_A Little Fun_
The year 1812 was closing with but small encouragement to the land
forces of the Americans. General Van Rensselaer having resigned, his
command was turned over to the bombastic Smyth, who was a veritable
windbag. His high-sounding proclamations, however, had some effect, for
they brought volunteers flocking to the front. But these found their
leader a man of words and not of deeds, for, after twice bringing them
to the very brink of an invasion into Canada, he recalled them, and
thereby brought down such jeers and threats upon his devoted head that
he at last retired to his home in Virginia.
Mr. Reyburn, like most of his comrades, chafed and fumed under all
these disappointments. Since his return he had been raised to the rank
of captain, and was now more away from home than ever. He and his son
never met, for Royal made a point of getting out of the way when he
saw his father coming. The young man felt somewhat embarrassed at the
position he was in as paroled prisoner in his father's house, and he
also felt somewhat aggrieved that his father had not acknowledged his
efforts in saving him from a savage enemy. On the other hand, Captain
Reyburn saw that Royal made a point of keeping out of his way, and he
made no advances.
"They are both entirely too proud," said Marianne to her mother. "I
think Royal might give in, because he is the younger, and he knows
father appreciates what he did for him; because I told Royal what
father said."
"It will all come right in time," her mother told her, "in the meantime
let us be thankful that we have them both so near. Your father
complains at the inaction, but I am thankful enough that it is so
quiet. Here comes the dear man now. Let us welcome him with cheerful
faces."
"Such management!" said Captain Reyburn, throwing off his cap, and
sitting down before the fire. "As if it were not enough to have
incompetent leaders, but some idiot must circulate the report among
the militia, that if they cross into Canada for military purposes,
they become liable for five years' service, becoming regulars in so
doing. Such talk! yet there is nothing but desertion and rioting to be
heard of. The only fighting the men seem to be able to do is that among
themselves, and their leaders are not any better. By George! I wish
I were back in Kentucky; there they are putting out real stuff, true
soldiers with William Henry Harrison at their head. I wish I were with
them. Ordered into winter quarters, when our force, if it had any grit
to back it, could knock out the British over on the other side in no
time! They don't begin to have the number of troops we have. Imagine!
brought to the very brink of an invasion, and then ordered back, the
regulars to winter quarters and the volunteers to their homes!"
Marianne brought her two hands smartly together. "Oh, then you are at
home for good! How glad I am! We knew that the expedition was given
up, but we heard there had been some fighting, and we were afraid that
there was more to come."
"I wish to Heaven there were more to expect. Yes, I am at home for a
time. It's a pretty poor outlook for our success, as things are now."
"We've given 'em some good licks on the sea," said Asa Peaslee, who had
come in and was listening to Captain Reyburn's report. "I've half a
mind to jine the marines myself. I ain't much of a climber, an' I dunno
's I wouldn't tumble kerflunk on deck, if I was to try to shinny up
them ropes, but I like to be on the winnin' side; and, seein' as there
ain't much glory to be had soldierin' around these parts, I dunno's I
won't light out and go where it's more excitin'. You're goin' to be at
home now, cap'n, and my days of usefulness so far's helpin' you out is
concerned, is most over."
"I thought you meant to fight only in self-defence, Asa," put in
Marianne.
"That's what I said; but I guess it'll be self-defence if I git a
sight of the enemy's weapons," he replied dryly. "S'long as they
ain't no Injun fightin', I kin stand it, but I would like to save
my scalp, seein' as I've kep' a-holt of it all these years. Injuns
ain't sea-farin' folks, and when a fellow hears of victories like the
_Constitution_ over the _Gareer_, and the _Wasp_ takin' the _Frolic_,
seems as if he'd like to be there. I guess I'll be hitchin' along in a
day or two, and see what gol-durned foolishness I'll be gittin' into
next. I don't seem to be able to keep from meddlin' somewheres. Used
to be always pokin' my fingers into the pies and cakes when I was a
youngster, and gittin' licked for it, so I guess it's inborn original
sin's the matter with me now that makes me just ache to be gittin' into
trouble."
True to his word, he started away one morning soon after, saying, at
parting: "You ain't rid of me for good, I guess. If I don't git blowed
up, or scalped, or hacked to pieces, like as not I'll be coming this
way ag'in, when there's anything goin' on. I'm the curiosest fellow you
ever did see; must be pokin' my nose into other folk's consarns, and
never can mind my own business."
Marianne watched him depart, having first loaded him down with
provisions. "I like the old fellow," she told Kate. "I suppose he may
be shrewd in driving a bargain, and doesn't always tell the exact
truth about his wares, but he is so good-hearted and brave, though he
pretends he is neither."
"He poses for an innocent," said Kate, "but he is really pretty smart,
and knows a heap more than he tells. Here come our brothers. Shall we
go and meet them?"
"You may, if you choose," replied Marianne, "but I've something better
to do."
Kate caught her around the waist, and laughing said: "You don't escape
this time. You always make that excuse. Do you really dislike poor Jack
so much?"
"You know I do," replied Marianne, struggling to get away.
"Just because he fought on the other side?"
"No, not that altogether, but you know he was very rude to me when he
first saw me, that time in the woods."
"When he pulled you out of the bog? Did you want to stay there?"
"Stop teasing, Kate. You know it wasn't that, but he made fun of me."
"He thought you a small child. He doesn't make fun of you now. I am
sure he is as polite as possible."
"Yes, but--it is really because he is on the enemy's side."
"So is your brother, but you don't dislike him."
"That is a very different thing. One ought not to hate her own brother;
and besides, Royal is fond of me."
"Then if Jack were fond of you, you'd be fond of him."
"How you do make one choose words. Let me go, Kate. I don't like him,
so there; I am sorry he is your brother, for you I love." She suddenly
broke away, then returned to throw her arms around Kate, and kiss her
over and over again, after which she ran into the house, without so
much as a look at the two coming up the walk.
Jack still limped a little, but he leaned on Royal's arm, and the two
were talking animatedly. "Where has Marianne run to?" Royal asked. "We
wanted to tell her the latest news."
"And what is that?" Kate asked. "Am I not to hear it?"
"It is reported that there is going to be trouble with the Indians on
the western frontier."
"O dear!" Kate looked distressed. "That is the worst thing to dread. I
wish I could see the right of this war, anyhow."
Jack shook his head. "You'd better not let Captain Reyburn or Marianne
hear you say that. They think there is righteous cause enough."
"Do you?" Kate asked quickly.
"Looking at it from their side, I think they have, maybe, though I
wouldn't confess it to any one else. I don't wonder that they got mad
at the impressment of their seamen; still, I've no doubt England would
have made that all right, and I think the States were too hasty in the
matter."
"Since I have been here," Kate returned, "I can see how they love
liberty beyond anything else, and that they believe the mother country
considers the United States only as a naughty child who has been too
impertinent, and that she wants them still to feel her power. I don't
much wonder that they resent that, and that they want to show her that
they can stand alone after their splendid fight for freedom in the
Revolution."
Jack laughed. "What would grandfather say to such a speech?"
"He would rage and rant, and call upon King George to witness that he
had always been loyal, no matter what views his descendants might hold.
Poor grandfather, I'm afraid he'll think we are entire renegades when
we go back."
"And when will that be?"
"As soon as we can."
"That's a very indefinite time. What's the use of going at all, when
I've given my word not to fight for so many months? Here's Royal,
declaring that he isn't going to stay at home because his father is
back again. I might get into just such a state of mind concerning
grandfather if I went back; and if one cannot be at home, he might as
well be in one place as another. I propose to stay."
"Why don't you say something, Royal?" Kate asked. "Shall we go or stay?"
"Stay," Royal answered. "The war can't last very long at this rate. You
see how utterly the States have failed in carrying the war into Canada,
and it will not be long before there will be peace."
"And are you really not going to live at home while your father is
here?"
"I am not. I am going to stay at Will Fenton's."
Kate looked at him wistfully. She wanted to tell him that she did not
think he was doing the best thing, but she hesitated. "You don't have
to meet your father, even if you stay at home," she said at last, "and
it would please your mother to have you stay."
Royal began to make fantastic figures in the path with the stick he
carried. "It's awkward enough as it is," he replied. "It has come to
such a pass now that my father just nods to me when we meet, and never
has a word to say if I am by. I don't want to spoil it for the rest,
and I think I'd better keep away and only come home when he is not
here."
Kate looked thoughtfully out into the winter sunlight, but made no
comment. "To return to the subject of our staying," she said, after a
pause. "I think I ought to go back, even if Jack is determined to stay.
I ought not to desert Sue any longer."
But when Marianne was told this, she declared against it. "Just as
winter is coming on, and there will be sleigh-rides and skating, and
all sorts of frolics, it would be too bad to leave and go over to that
stupid place where you will not have half the fun you would here. You
mustn't think of it." And forthwith she began to contrive a series
of amusement to keep her friend. She consulted Royal on the subject,
and found him quite ready to further her schemes. "We will show them,
Royal," she said, with a toss of her head, "we will show them that,
backwoodsmen though our father and grandfather were, we know how to
dance and entertain. The elegance of Monsieur Silverthorn, vieux, the
fine manners he pretends to have bequeathed to his grandson, I don't
find them after being with you and Victor, who can bow and dance with
the grace of a marquis. Bah! do you suppose that old withered Tory
over there can hold a candle to our grandfather Desvouges, of whom
grand'mère tells us? Such a gallant, he; so beautiful to behold in his
satins and velvets! Ah me! I wish we had satins and velvets to wear. In
homespun we will attire ourselves; yet we will not forget the graces of
our ancestors, even if some of our guests do despise us."
"All this, I suppose, is a tirade against Jack Silverthorn," said
Royal, coolly. "Why do you think he despises you? I am sure he has
never given you reason to think so, and it was but yesterday that Kate
said she had never seen a girl more graceful than you."
"Ah, Kate! yes, of course she would say that. She always is sweet and
lovely. I was not thinking of her. I wish to show Mr. Silverthorn that
I do not lack for partners in a dance, and do not have to go seeking
them among refugee Tories."
"Chut! Chut! Marianne, your tongue runs away with you at times. Yet I
should like the dance well enough. I suppose Kate and Jack would like
it, too, though perhaps we had better ask them."
"Nonsense, of course they will like it, and I do not want them to know
till it is all arranged. We will have it in the barn. A big, big place,
we want. It shall be a real frolic. We will have no lack of guests, I
assure you, for there are the military to draw upon. We will say it is
in Kate's honor, and we will have Long Joe to play for us, if we can
get him. I wish Victor were here, he dances so well; it is the one
thing that he does better than any one I know. Good old Victor, he
never lets me lack for a partner."
When all the arrangements were made for the dance, Kate and Jack were
told, and cheerfully accepted the arrangement; though Jack may have had
a passing thought that some other form of entertainment would be better
suited to a man with a weak ankle. Yet he offered his help with a good
grace.
At the suggestion of Captain Reyburn the affair resolved itself into
a husking-bee, followed by a dance. "In that way," said he, "I'll get
my work done, and you'll have your fun. Half the boys around are ready
for an invitation, and I think you'll have some difficulty in providing
partners for them all."
"I know a way out of that difficulty," said Marianne, patriotically.
"We will not invite any one of the men who have not been or who are not
in our army."
"Ho! Ho!" laughed her father. "That is a good way out of it. I've no
doubt we shall find the soldier lads eager enough for sport of that
kind."
"I'll leave you to choose which ones ought to be invited," said
Marianne, "and I think we can find girls enough, if we depend upon
Black Rock as well as Lewiston. My only anxiety is whether we can
supply sufficient refreshments."
"Trust your mother for that," replied her father. "Between my wife
and Jerusha, I reckon no one will go away hungry." And, indeed, for
days Mrs. Reyburn was in her element. She liked nothing better than to
provide a feast, and to show her skill in using her mother's famous
recipes. So there were great pasties of game, huge roasts of venison,
doughnuts rolled in maple sugar, pumpkin cake, and pies of many kinds
in turnover shape.
"My!" exclaimed Kate, when the last pie came from the oven. "I never
saw such a pile of goodies. That doesn't look much like war time, does
it?"
"They will eat it all," Mrs. Reyburn told her. "Every time my husband
comes in he tells me of some new guest he has invited, and we shall
soon have room for not another one."
Truly it was a goodly company which assembled on the evening selected.
The boys from the regiments now in winter quarters, Virginians,
Marylanders, Kentuckians, and New Yorkers, in motley uniforms; the
girls from the villages and the surrounding country, in homespun,
deerskin, or calico; a few Canadians, who had taken refuge on the
American side of the river, and all eager for a frolic.
The huge piles of Indian corn lay ready for the huskers; the table
groaned with its load of pasties, cakes, and pies; torches and
pine-knot fires were ready to be lighted; and Marianne viewed it all
with a pleased eye. "It will do," she said to Kate, "but it is neither
the husking nor the supper that I am looking forward to; it is the
dance. I long for the dance. Don't you, Kate?"
Kate hesitated, blushed, looked down. She could not bear to dampen
Marianne's ardor, and all this time she had failed to tell her.
"I--you see, I don't know much about it. Grandfather is such an
old Puritan--and--he never liked to have us--and so we--that is--I
have never learned." She looked helplessly at Marianne when she had
stammered out this piece of information.
Marianne stared at her in surprise, then she laughed merrily, but in
some embarrassment. "And I have given this frolic for you, and took it
for granted that you danced. What a stupid I am! Why didn't you tell
me?"
"Because I didn't want to spoil your fun. I saw that the dance was what
you liked the best. I can husk corn, you know, and I shall love to
watch the dancers."
"You shall do more. Where is Royal? Where is your brother? Ah, that
Victor were here to play the violin for us! He plays with much feeling,
that Victor." She darted out of the log building and came back with
her brother and Jack. "I am the most stupid!" she exclaimed. "I am a
selfish one, to be sure. I prepare an entertainment for my friends,
and behold, one does not dance, and the other cannot because of his
sprained ankle. Did you ever know such a stupid, Royal? But come, in
the little time that is before us we must teach Kate the figures. Come,
Mr. Jack, you must hobble through it somehow."
She extended her hand, and Jack led her out upon the rough floor.
"We'll have no music," he said.
Marianne gave him a little side glance, and drew from her pocket a
queer little instrument, upon which she began to play a quaint tune,
piping out the few notes with a sweet shrillness while she kept time
with her foot. Jack looked at her in wonder. "How unlike any other girl
you are," he said; "you are full of surprises. Where did you get that
curious little pipe?"
"Victor made it for me," Marianne told him, exhibiting the little pipe
with some pride.
"Has it a name? I never saw one like it before."
"No, it has no special name. You see it is neither a fife nor a horn
nor a whistle, though Victor and I usually call it the little horn. I
think he was very clever to make it. He taught me to play upon it while
he played his violin. Come now; one, two, three. Advance, Royal."
Royal led Kate toward her, they swung corners, balanced, bowed to
imaginary couples, represented by stalks of corn, and finally the dance
stopped. Marianne gave a nod to Kate, saying: "You will do. Royal will
see that you do not lack for partners who can guide you properly. As
for you, Mr. Jack, I am afraid you have already been kept too long on
your lame ankle."
"I suppose that this must be my last dance," said Jack, dejectedly.
"One does not feel very graceful, I imagine, dancing with a lame man."
Marianne gave a little shrug of her shoulders and walked away, saying:
"There are those who could make a more courteous speech, Mr. Jack,
and who would say I am not ungraceful at any time; but, of course, an
awkward little girl, as I am in your eyes, cannot be expected to show
grace, except under very fortunate circumstances."
"What a dolt I am!" Jack hastened to explain. "I didn't mean that; you
know I didn't. Why do you always try to twist my words into a wrong
meaning? Are you never going to forgive me for that unlucky first
meeting?"
"Oh, unlucky, of course, since otherwise I should, perhaps, never have
met you at all."
Jack hobbled up to her and looked down into the blue eyes, which met
his stonily. "I wish I knew whether you really hate me or whether you
merely try to tease me when you say such things."
"You cannot think I would take the trouble to tease you," Marianne
answered, moving away. "You know full well how I feel toward my
country's enemies." Whereupon Jack heaved a sigh and looked so
disconsolate that Kate fancied he was suffering, and solicitously came
over to him, begging him to find a place where he could be seated
comfortably.
"You shouldn't have tried the dance, Jack," she said.
"But I enjoyed it." His eyes were following Marianne, who was lighting
up the torches, which flared out from the dingy walls of the log
building.
"You look as if you were enjoying yourself now," Kate laughed. "I see,
Jack, that little tease has been saying something sharp. Don't mind
her; she doesn't mean half she says." And then the guests came trooping
in, glad to get under cover from the cold.