A Heart-warming Welcome
"Mumsy, here comes Cousin Ann!"
"There you are at it again, Judith. I say shame on you for calling
people cousin who don't even know they are related."
"Anyhow, here comes Cousin Ann!"
"Comes where? Along the pike? I don't see that that is anything to get
excited over."
"But it is not along the pike. She is coming here--here in our home.
Old Billy has stopped the horses and is down off his box and has
opened the door and is unpacking the luggage. After a little while he
will come to Cousin Ann.
"Do you know what that means, Mumsy? It means that we are to be taken
into the bosom of the family, as it were. Cousin Ann only visits
relations. I reckon I'm a snob but I can't help being glad that I am
to belong. I won't let anybody but you know that, Mumsy, but I'm going
to be just as nice and kind to poor Cousin Ann as can be. You will
too, won't you, dear Mumsy?"
"Well, I guess I know how to treat company," bridled Mrs. Buck.
Miss Ann sat, dazed and wondering, while Billy pulled out the luggage
and piled it up by the white picket fence. She did not know where the
old coachman had brought her. She wondered vaguely if it could be the
home of Cousin David's oldest daughter whose married name had escaped
her. Could she have slept a whole day?
Suddenly a red-haired girl in a blue dress came running down the walk
and before Billy could get his mistress unpacked this girl had sprung
into the coach and putting her arms around Miss Ann's neck kissed her
first on one cheek and then on the other.
"Mother and I are real glad to see you and we hope you and Uncle Billy
will stay with us just as long as you are comfortable and happy," said
Judith. "Howdy, Uncle Billy!"
"Howdy, missy!" Great tears were coursing down the old brown face.
"The guest chamber is all ready, except for being sheeted and that
won't take me a minute. Just bring the things right in, Uncle Billy.
Here, I'll help and then Miss Ann can get out."
"Cousin Ann, child! I am your Cousin Ann Peyton." Miss Ann spoke from
the depths of the coach. And then Mrs. Buck, having hastily tied on a
clean apron, came down the walk and was introduced to the visitor,
greeting her with shy hospitality.
"I'm pleased to meet you. Judith and I'll be right glad of your
company."
How long had it been since anybody had said that to Miss Ann? The old
lady flushed with pleasure.
"You are my cousin-in-law, but I don't know your name."
"Prudence--Prudence Knight was my maiden name."
"Ah, then, Cousin Prudence! It is very kind of you and your daughter
to greet me so cordially. I hope Billy and I will not be much trouble
during our short stay with you. Are you certain it is convenient to
have us?"
Now be it noted that in all of the long years of visiting Miss Ann
Peyton had never before asked whether or not her coming was
convenient. Hitherto she had simply come and stayed until it suited
her to move on.
"Indeed it is convenient," cried Judith. "Mother and I are here all
alone and we have loads of room."
When Mr. and Mrs. Ezra Knight broke up housekeeping in New England
they moved every stick of furniture they possessed to their new home.
This furniture had been in the family for generations. There were old
highboys of polished mahogany and chaste design, four-poster beds and
gate-legged tables, a Sheraton sideboard and Chippendale chairs, a
claw-footed secretary with leaded glass doors and secret drawers.
There were hooked rugs and patchwork quilts of intricate and wonderful
design, hand woven bedspreads of a blue seldom seen and Chinese
cabinets and strange grotesque brasses, no doubt brought to New
England by the Norse sailor man who had left his mark on the family
according to Mrs. Buck.
Miss Ann Peyton felt singularly at home from the moment she entered
the front door. The guest chamber, where old Dick Buck had made it
convenient to spend the last years of his life, was so pleasant one
hardly blamed the old man for establishing himself there. A
low-pitched room it was, with windows looking out over the meadow and
furnished with mahogany so rare and beautiful it might have graced a
museum.
"Now, Cousin Ann, please make yourself absolutely at home. If you want
to unpack immediately there is a dandy closet here, and here is a
wardrobe and here is a highboy and here a bureau. Uncle Billy can
take your trunks to the attic when you empty them. I wish I could help
you, but Mumsy and I are up to our necks canning peaches and we can't
stop a minute. If you want to come help peel we'd be delighted. We are
on the side porch and it is lovely and cool out there," and Judith was
gone.
Help peel peaches! Why not? Miss Ann smiled. Nobody ever asked her to
help. It was a new experience for her. She decided not to unpack
immediately, but donned an apron and hastened to the side porch.
It was pleasant there. Mrs. Buck was peeling laboriously, anxious not
to waste a particle of fruit. She stopped long enough to get a paring
knife and bowl for the visitor.
"Judith has gone to show your servant where to put the carriage and
horses and then to open up the house in the back for him. It was the
old house the Bucks had before my father bought this place--a good
enough house with furniture in it. Judith gives it a big cleaning now
and then and I reckon the old man can move right in."
Old Billy was in the seventh heaven of delight. A stable for Cupid and
Puck, with plenty of good pasture land, a carriage house for the
coach, shared with Judith's little blue car, but best of all, a house
for himself!
"A house with winders an' a chimbly an' a po'ch wha' I kin sot cans er
jewraniums an' a box er portulac! I been a dreamin' 'bout sech a house
all my life, Miss Judy. Sometimes when I is fo'ced ter sleep in the
ca'ige, when Miss Ann an' me air a visitin' wha' things air kinder
crowded like, I digs me up a little flower an' plants it in a ol' can
an' kinder makes out my coachman's box air a po'ch. Miss Judy, it air
a sad thing ter git ter be ol' an' wo' out 'thout ever gittin' what
you wanted when you wa' young an' spry."
"Yes, Uncle Billy, I know how you feel, but now you have a little
house and you can live in it as long as it suits you and grow all the
flowers you've a mind to. Nobody has lived in it for years and years
but I used to play down here when I was a little girl and had time to
play. Every now and then I give it a good cleaning, though, and you
won't have to do much to start with."
It was a rough, two-roomed cabin, with shabby furniture, but it seemed
like a palace to the old darkey.
"I reckon I'll put me up a red curtain," he sighed. "I been always a
wantin' a red curtain, an' bless Bob, if they ain't already a row of
skillets an' cookin' pots by the chimbly. I am moughty partial ter a
big open fiah place wha' you kin make yo' se'f a ol' time ash cake."
"Can you cook, Uncle Billy?"
"Sho' I kin cook, but I ain't git much chanct ter cook, what with
livin' roun' so much."
"Well, you can help me sometimes when I get pushed for time," and
Judith told the old man of the task she had undertaken of feeding the
motormen.
"Sholy! Sholy!" he agreed and then the thought came to him as it had
to Miss Ann--When before had he been asked to help?
Judith found the two ladies busily engaged in paring peaches. She was
amused to discover that Miss Ann was quicker than her mother and more
expert. The old lady's fingers were nimble and dainty and she handled
her knife with remarkable skill.
"My goodness! You go so fast I can begin to can," cried Judith. Miss
Ann's face beamed with happiness as she watched her young cousin
weighing sugar and fruit and then lighting the kerosene stove which
stood behind a screen in the corner of the porch.
Judith kept up a lively chatter as she sterilized glass jars and
dipped out the cooked fruit. Miss Ann worked faster and faster and
even Mrs. Buck hurried in spite of herself. Uncle Billy's amazement
was ludicrous when he came upon his mistress making one of this busy
family group. But in an instant the old man was helping, too.
The morning was gone but the peaches were all canned, the table filled
with amber-colored jars. Billy must carry them to the storeroom and
place them on the shelves. He ran back and forth looking like a little
brown gnome and actually skipping with happiness. Miss Ann smiled
contentedly while Mrs. Buck gathered up the peach skins and stones
which she had saved with a view to making marmalade, although Judith
assured her that the peach crop was so big that year there would be no
use in such close economy.
"Now, we'll have luncheon and then everybody must take a nap,"
commanded Judith and everybody was very glad to, after the strenuous
morning's work, but first Billy slipped out to the carriage house and
pulled the corn cob out of the bumble bees' hole.
"There now, you po' critters! I reckon you kin call this home too an'
jes' buzz aroun' all you'se a min' ter," the old man whispered
happily.