A BATH AND--
Scipio started and looked up as a joyous greeting from the children
outside warned him of the approach of a visitor. He was rather glad of
the interruption, too. He found the Bible offered him such an enormous
field of research. It was worse than enormous; it was overwhelming.
The Bible was really more than he could study in the few minutes he
had allowed himself. As yet he had not found even one single mention
of the few subjects he still retained a vague recollection of.
As he glanced at the doorway it was darkened by a familiar figure.
Sunny Oak, as ragged, disreputable and unclean as usual, smiled
himself into the room.
"Howdy, Zip?" he greeted genially. "Guessed I'd git around, seem' it
was Sunday. Y'see, folks don't work any Sunday. I'd sure say it's a
real blessin' folks is 'lowed to rest one day in seven. Talkin' o'
work, I heerd tell you've took a pardner to your claim. Wild Bill's
smart. He ain't bluffed you any?"
The loafer seated himself in the other chair with an air of utter
weariness. He might just have finished a spell of the most arduous
labor, instead of having merely strolled across the dumps. Scipio
smiled faintly.
"He hasn't bluffed me any," he said gently. "Seems to me he wouldn't
bluff me. Yes, he's in on ha'f my claim. Y'see, he thinks ther's gold
in sight, an'--an' I know ther' ain't. That's what's troubling me. I
kind of feel mean some."
Sunny yawned luxuriously.
"Don't you worry any," he said easily. "Bill's mighty wide. If he's
come in on your claim he's--needin' to bad. Say--"
He broke off and turned alertly to the door. A sound of voices reached
them, and a moment later Sandy Joyce and Toby stood grinning in the
doorway.
"Gee!" cried Sunny. "Gettin' quite a party."
"I'm real pleased you folks come along," Scipio declared warmly. He
stood up and looked round uncertainly. "Say," he went on, his pale
face flushing a little ruefully, "come right in, boys. I don't see
jest where you're goin' to sit. Maybe the table's good an' strong.
This chair'll do for one."
But Toby would have none of it.
"Set you down, Zip," he cried. "I got this doorway. Guess the table'll
fit Sandy. He's kind o' high in his notions. I jest see Bill comin'
along up from the river. Looked like he was comin' this way. How's the
kids?"
"Why, bully," said Scipio amiably. "Y'see, I got 'em fixed right all
right since Sunny wrote out those regulations for me. Those
regulations are jest dandy, and I'm desperate obliged to him. A feller
would need to be a bum sort of fool, anyhow, who couldn't fix kids
right with it all set out so careful. There sure are things set down
there I'd never have thought of--an' I'm their father, too." He paused
and glanced nervously round at the friendly faces. Then, with evident
anxiety, he hurried on. "I was just thinkin'," he exclaimed, "maybe
some hot coffee wouldn't come amiss. Y'see, I ain't no rye. Guess I'll
make that coffee right away. I got water cooking on the stove. I was
goin' to use it for bathin' the kids, but--"
His visitors exchanged swift glances, and Sunny broke in. "Don't do
it, Zip," he said with an amiable grin. "These boys don't figger to
unpickle their vitals with no sech truck as coffee. Say"--his eyes
wandered to where his carefully written regulations were posted,
"talkin' o' baths, have you physicked the kids right?"
Scipio, feeling somewhat relieved, returned to his chair and lodged
himself upon its edge. He could not settle himself at his ease.
Somehow he felt that these men were entirely his superior in all those
things which count for manhood; and the kindness of such a visit
rather overwhelmed him. Then, too, he was sincerely regretting his
inadequate hospitality. Now he became nervously enthusiastic.
"I sure did," he cried eagerly. "Those physics were real elegant. If
you'll tell me what they cost you, Sunny, I'll square up now. How--"
He pulled out some money, but the loafer waved it aside with
ridiculous dignity.
"Thievin' doctors needs pay. I ain't no bum doc. What you give
'em--the kids?"
Scipio bundled his money back into his pocket, flushing at the thought
that he had unintentionally insulted his benefactor.
"Well," he said thoughtfully, "I didn't give 'em no corn cure. Y'see,"
he added apologetically, "I couldn't find no corns on 'em to speak of.
But," he went on more hopefully, "I give 'em the cough cure. They
ain't got no coughs, neither of 'em, but, seein' they was to take a
bath, I guessed it 'ud be a kind of precaution. Then there were them
powders. How were they called? Why--Lick--Lick--well, they were called
Lick--something. Anyways, I give 'em one each. They didn't take 'em
easy, an' was nigh sick, but they got 'em down after awhile. Then,
seein' they got bruises on their legs, playin', I rubbed 'em good with
hoss lin'ment. After that I give 'em some o' that tonic--quinine an'
something. An' then, seein' they couldn't eat food this mornin', an'
had got sick headaches, I give 'em one o' them fizzy Seidlitz fellers
between 'em. Jamie bein' the smallest I give him the thin white
packet, an' the other, the blue one, I give to Vada. That seemed to
fix them good, an I guess they're most ready fer their baths by now."
"I guessed you'd treat 'em right," approved Sunny seriously. "Ther'
ain't nothin' like physic. You're sure a wise guy, Zip."
Sandy Joyce agreed, too.
"You was dead right," he said impressively. "It don't never do takin'
chances with kids o' that age. Chances is bum things, anyway. Y'see,
kids ken ketch such a heap o' things. Ther's bile, an' measles, an'
dropsy, an' cancer, an' hydryfoby, an' all kinds o' things. They's
li'ble to ketch 'em as easy as gettin' flies wi' molasses. An' some o'
them is ter'ble bad. Ever had hydryfoby? No? Wal, I ain't neither, but
I see a feller with it oncet, an' he jest went around barkin' like a
camp dog chasin' after swill bar'ls, an' was scared to death o'
water--"
"Some folks don't need hydryfoby fer that," put in Toby, with a grin.
"Ther' ain't no call fer you buttin' in," flashed Sandy angrily.
"Guess I'm talkin' o' things you ain't heerd tell of. You ain't out o'
your cradle yet."
He turned back to his host and prepared to continue his list of
horrors, but Sunny forestalled him.
"Talkin' o' water," he said, "you ain't bathed the kids yet?"
Scipio shook his head.
"The water's cookin'."
"Cookin'?" Toby whistled.
Sunny sat up, all interest.
"Hot bath?" he inquired, with wide eyes. "You ain't givin' 'em a _hot_
bath?" he exclaimed incredulously.
A troubled look came into Scipio's pale eyes. He doubted his purpose
in face of his friends' astonishment.
"Why, yes. That's how I _was_ thinking," he said weakly. "Y'see, I
guessed it would soften the dirt quicker, and make it easy wipin' it
off."
"But ain't you scared o' them--peelin'?" inquired Sandy, refusing to
be left out of the discussion.
Scipio looked perplexed.
"Peelin'?" he said. "I--I don't think I get you."
"Why," explained Sandy readily, "peelin' their skins off 'em. You
allus sets potatoes in b'ilin' water to git their skins peeled quick.
Same with hogs. Same with most anything. I call that a fool chance to
take."
Scipio's perplexity merged into a mild smile.
"I wouldn't jest set 'em into boilin' water," he explained; "kind of
warm, with a bit o' soda."
Sunny approved.
"That sure don't sound too bad," he declared. "But wot about 'em
gettin' cold? Takin' all that dirt off sudden, y'see--"
"He's dosed 'em wi' cough cure," broke in Toby.
"Sure," agreed Sunny. "I'd fergot--Say"--he turned to the doorway and
craned towards it--"here's--here's Wild Bill coming along."
Toby promptly scrambled up from the door-sill and made way for the
Trust president. He strode into the room with a quick glance round and
a short, harsh "Howdy?" for the lesser members of his corporation. His
manner towards Scipio was no less unbending.
And, curiously enough, his coming silenced all further discussion.
Scipio had nothing to say whatever, and the others felt that here was
their leader from whom they must take their cue.
Nor was it long in coming. Scipio rose and offered his chair to the
newcomer, but the gambler promptly kicked the proffered seat aside,
and took up his position on the fuel-box. He glared into the little
man's face for a few seconds, and then opened his lips.
"Wal?" he drawled.
Scipio stirred uneasily.
"I'm real glad to see you, Bill," he managed to mumble out. "I ain't
got no rye--"
"Rye--hell!" The gambler was not a patient man, and the laws of
hospitality interested him not in the least. "Say"--he pointed at the
open Bible on the table beside Sandy--"takin' on psalm-smitin'?"
Scipio hurled himself into the breach.
"It's them regulations Sunny give me for raisin' the kids. They need a
Bible talk after their bath. I bin readin' up some."
A momentary twinkle flashed into the gambler's eyes.
"Have you give 'em their bath?" he demanded.
Scipio pointed at the stove, on which the water was already boiling.
"The water's cookin'," he said. "Guess it's most ready." The gambler
glanced round the room severely.
"Then why the devil is you'se fellers settin' around? Wher's the
tub?"
"Down at the creek. It's the wash-tub," Scipio explained, bestirring
himself. The other men stood up ready.
There was no doubt that Bill had taken possession of the situation. He
always seemed to dominate his fellows. Now he caught Scipio's eye and
held him.
"Jest gather the things up quick," he said authoritatively, "an' we'll
get busy."
And as Scipio heaped up the necessary articles for the bath on the
table, he looked on with the keenest interest. Finally the little man
paused beside the heap, holding in his hand the box of water-softener,
which he was eyeing somewhat doubtfully. Bill's eyes still twinkled.
"Wot's that?" he demanded in his savage way, as though he had never
seen the box before.
"That? Why, that's for bathin'," said Scipio doubtfully. "Y'see, it's
a fixin' swell ladies in Noo York an' such places use for makin' their
baths soft an' dandy. Sunny brought it along last night. He guessed it
would be elegant for the kids. Y'see, his mother sent it a present to
him. He didn't reckon he had use for it, seein' he took his bath in
the creek every mornin'. He guessed natural water was best for him."
Bill snorted.
"Sunny's a bright lad," he said, while Toby softly exploded with
laughter in the doorway.
But the gambler was bent on the purpose in hand, and promptly
dismissed the loafer's fairy-story from his mind.
"Here, get around and bear a hand," he cried, indicating the pile on
the table. "You, Toby, quit laffin' an' git a holt on them clean
laundry. An' say, don't you muss 'em any. Sunny, you best pile up them
washin' fixin's--that hand-scrubber, the soap, that wash-flannel an'
the towels. Guess that's the nighest you'll ever come to bathin'
yourself. Sandy Joyce ken carry the hot water, an', if Zip's yaller
pup gets around, see you don't scald him any. Guess I'll handle these
yer dippers. That way Zip'll be free to take the kids along. After
they're bathed they ken set around in the sun, while Zip gives 'em a
real elegant Bible talk."
The whole thing was simplicity itself in the capable hands of a man of
Bill's energy. But for his advent the bath might have been delayed
until the water on the cookstove had boiled away. What with Sandy's
love of debate and Sunny's indolence, the visit of these men might
have been prolonged for hours. As it was, in five minutes after Bill's
appearance upon the scene the cortege was ready to set out for the
water's edge; and not only ready, but more than willing to submit the
all-unconscious twins to the combination of their inexperienced
efforts in matters ablutionary. The one saving clause for the poor
little creatures was the presence of their father and a man of
practical intelligence such as the gambler. How they might have fared
at the hands of the others is a matter best not contemplated too
closely.
At a word from Wild Bill the procession set out. Scipio headed it,
with a child clinging to each hand, doddling along at his side all
blissfully unconscious, but delighted at going whither their elders
led them. Vada babbled with delight, and kept up a fire of chattering
questions in a truly feminine manner, while little Jamie, stolid but
no less joyous, devoured everything with hungry, thoughtful eyes, and
punctuated his sister's remarks with characteristic grunts, and an
occasional emphatic ejaculation and protest at the yellow pup, who
would lick his dirty legs.
Behind these came Sandy Joyce, the picture of absurd dignity, as he
vainly strove to carry the boiler of water without scalding himself.
Toby came immediately behind him, with the bundle of laundry, a
tumbled mass in his arms, crushed firmly to his stout chest, lest, by
any ill-fate, he should drop any of the strange garments, which looked
so absurdly small in his ignorant eyes.
Next came Sunny with the cleansing properties, which he carried
gingerly, as though the very nature of them were repugnant to him, and
the labor of carrying them an offense to his creed of life. The soap
particularly troubled him. Its slippery nature made him drop it
several times, till it seemed almost as though it resented him
personally, and was trying to escape from the insult of such
association. Wild Bill brought up the rear of the column, bearing the
bright tin dippers, which clattered violently as they swung together
on their string loops. He suggested nothing so much as a herder
driving before him his unusual flock by the aid of a violent rattling
on tin cans.
Solemnly the procession wound its way down the hill. Only the voices
of the children, the yapping of the pup and the clatter of tinware
enlivened the journey. The men's minds were engrossed with their
various charges. It was serious--desperately serious. But then, a bath
in any form, much less a bath of two small children, was an affair of
the gravest importance to these men. Then, too, there was nervousness
with it. Everybody felt responsible, from the father to the desperate
instigator of what was, in their minds, something almost amounting to
an outrage.
However, the windings and roughnesses of the path, as it twisted its
way through the scrubby bushes lining the creek bank, were finally
negotiated more or less satisfactorily. The mishaps were not as great
as might have been anticipated. Sandy only scalded himself twice, and
his curses had to be stifled by a sharp reprimand from the gambler.
Toby skidded down the slope once, and only saved the laundry at the
personal expense of a torn shirt and a grazed elbow. Sunny, except for
his difference of opinion with the soap, enjoyed no other mishap, and
Bill's only transgression was to send one of the dippers, amidst a
volley of curses, hurtling at the yellow pup, who at one time
threatened to upset all Sandy's dignity, and incidentally the boiling
water, by getting mixed up with that worthy widower's legs.
The halt was made beside the wash-tub, and childish curiosity promptly
asserted itself.
"You ain't washin' more clothes, poppa?" demanded Vada, with wide
questioning eyes. "Ain't this Sunday?"
"Pop-pa wash tothes," mumbled Jamie.
Sunny took it upon himself to put the matter right in the small minds.
He beamed upon the children.
"Poppa's going to wash _you_," he said, with unction.
"Wot for?" demanded Vada. "We ain't done nothin'."
"'Cos you needs it," replied the loafer, uncomfortably avoiding the
blandly questioning eyes.
"Ugh!" interjected Jamie.
"We ain't as dirty as you," said Vada, after a thoughtful pause.
Sunny busied himself laying out the utensils on the grassiest spot he
could find. Toby glanced round after depositing the laundry
department. He guffawed loudly, and went on with his work. Sunny's
face went a dirty scarlet, but he refrained from retort. And promptly
little Vada went on.
"I don't want bath," she protested plaintively. And Jamie chorused in
with a grunt of agreement, while he busied himself trying to climb up
the sides of the tub.
Scipio snatched him away, and looked round weakly for support. It came
in a sharp command from Bill, who had seated himself on a fallen
tree-trunk.
"Git busy," he ordered. "Set that doggone water in the tub, an' Sunny
ken dip the boiler full of cold. You boys ken do that while Zip gets
the kids ready. Guess he'll likely know best wher' the strings an'
buttons is."
His orders were silently executed by the men. But the children had no
awe of the gambler, and their protests were many and querulous.
However, the tub was filled satisfactorily, and Scipio finally
succeeded in fumbling the clothes off the children.
It was a curious scene. Scipio moved about with an air of the mildest
perplexity. Sunny slouched through his work as though it were the
hardest of labor, although he was really enjoying himself. Toby was
grinning all over his face with huge enjoyment, while Sandy performed
his share with such an aspect of care that his labors might have been
of an absolutely epoch-making nature. Bill suggested simple authority.
The "kids" must be bathed, and he was going to see it done.
When all preparations had been made, Scipio became the chief operator,
and each man took up his position where best he could witness the
process. There was something so mildly stimulating to these ruffians
in observing the clumsy lavering of two small children. They all
appreciated cleanliness in theory; it was only the practice that they
were unaccustomed to, and here it was being demonstrated before their
interested eyes. They watched Scipio's efforts for some moments in
silence, while he, with gentle persuasion, overcame each childish
protest. He did it in such a kindly, patient way that very soon these
small atoms of humanity, sitting facing each other cross-legged in the
tub, gained ample confidence, and gave expression to infantile delight
by splashing each other with water, and incidentally treating their
father to an even less welcome bath.
They laughed and crowed and chattered while their father plied the
house-flannel, and only were their piping voices quiet at such moments
as their small round faces were smothered with soapsuds, or lost in
the embracing folds of the none too savory cloth.
But on the part of the spectators, their interest would not permit of
long silence. And it was Sandy Joyce, quite irrepressible where advice
was concerned, who found it necessary to interfere.
"Ain't you rubbin' 'em too hard?" he questioned, after prolonged
cogitation.
Scipio turned to reply in the midst of swabbing Jamie's lower limbs.
He was holding one foot dangerously high in the air, and the movement
caused him to upset the child's balance, so that his upper part
promptly disappeared beneath the frothing suds. A wild splashing and
yell from Vada warned her father of the threatened tragedy, and Jamie
was hauled up, coughing and spluttering. The little man, with scared
face, sought at once to pacify the frightened child, while Sunny
withered the interfering widower with a few well-chosen words.
"Say, you'd butt in an' tell folk they wasn't nailin' up your coffin
right," he cried angrily. "Will you kep that instrument o' foolishness
o' yours quiet fer ten minutes?"
Sandy flushed.
"They ain't got hides like hogs," he grumbled. "They needs handlin'
easy. Say, jest look what he's doin' now. What's--"
He broke off, and all eyes watched Scipio's movements as he turned
Jamie over, and, supporting his dripping body in the crook of his arm,
plied the flannel upon the boy's back. The moment was a tense one.
Then a sigh of relief went up as the child dropped back in the water
with a splash.
"I ain't never see kids handled that way," cried the disgusted Sandy,
unable to keep silence any longer. Then, as no one seemed inclined to
question his statement, he went on, "Wot I sez is, kids needs
women-folk to do they things right. Zip's handlin' 'em like raw beef."
Then he turned on Sunny, whose rebuke was still rankling. "Guess
you'll say he ain't--bein' contrary. Now, ef I was washin' 'em,
I'd--"
"Shut up," cried Wild Bill harshly. Then he added, with biting
sarcasm, "I ain't surprised you're a widder-man."
Toby made no attempt to disguise his laughter, and it maddened the
unfortunate Sandy; and if a look could have killed, Sunny would have
died grinning. However, the widower sheltered himself in the silence
demanded of him until the children were lifted out of the tub and
dried by their patient father. Nor did he even attempt to further
interfere while their parent struggled them into their little woolen
undershirts.