THE OX-MONEY.
Perhaps the shock had some effect upon Willy's habits, for after this he
did not walk in his sleep for some time.
But one night, as the teamsters were drinking their cider, and talking
about the well-beloved "Kellup," wondering why he should take it into
his head to steal,--"as honest a man, they had always thought, as ever
trod shoe-leather,"--the bar-room door softly opened, and in glided
Willy, in his flannel night-dress.
The men were really glad to see him, and nodded at one another, smiling,
but, as usual, made no remark about the child. They knew he could not
hear, but it seemed as if he could, and they were a little careful what
they said before him.
"Yes," said Mr. Parlin, going on to speak of Caleb, "I considered him an
honest, God-fearing man, and trusted him as I would one of my own sons.
If there was any other way to account for that money, I should be glad,
I assure you,--as glad as any of you."
"Where has Kellup gone to?" asked Mr. Griggs.
"Gone to Bangor, they say."
All this while Willy had not seated himself in his little chair, but was
walking towards the bar. After muttering to himself a little while, he
went in and took from the shelf the old account-book. Mr. Parlin looked
at the teamsters, and put his finger on his lips as a hint for them to
keep still, and see what the child would do.
Willy felt in the account-book for the key, then glided along to the
money-drawer and opened it.
"There, now, it isn't here," said he, after he had fumbled about for a
while with his chubby fingers; "the book isn't here that had the
ox-money in it. Caleb mustn't have that money; it belongs to my father."
The men grew very much interested, and began to creep up a little
nearer, in order to catch every word.
"Money all gone," sighed Willy; and then, appearing to think for a
moment, added, "O, yes; but I know where I put it!"
Breathless with surprise, Mr. Parlin and his guests watched the child as
he pattered with bare feet across the floor to the west side of the
room, climbed upon a high stool, and opening the "vial cupboard," took
out from a chink in the wall, behind the bottles, a little old
singing-book.
It was only the danger of startling Willy too suddenly that prevented
the amazed father from snatching the book out of his hand.
"Yes, the ox-money is here," said Willy, patting the notes, which lay
between the leaves.
How _do_ you suppose he could see them, with his eyes fixed and vacant?
Then he seemed to be considering for a space what to do; but at last put
the singing-book back again in the chink behind the bottles, clambered
down from the stool, and taking his favorite seat in the red chair,
began to warm his little cold feet before the fire.
"Well, that beats all!" exclaimed Dr. Hilton, before any one else could
get breath to speak.
Mr. Parlin went at once to the cupboard, and took down the singing-book.
"The money is safe and sound," said he, as he looked it over,--"safe and
sound; and Caleb Cushing is an honest man, thank the Lord!"
"Three cheers for Caleb!" said Dr. Hilton.
"Three cheers for Kellup!" cried one of the teamsters.
And quite forgetting the sleeping child, the rest of the teamsters took
up the toast, and shouted,--
"Three cheers for Kellup Cushing! Hoo-ra-a-ay!"
Of course that waked Willy, and frightened him dreadfully. Imagine
yourself going to sleep in bed, and waking up in a chair in another
room, in a great noise. It was the first time the little fellow had ever
been roused from one of his "walking-spells," and they had to carry him
away to his mother to be comforted.
He did not know that night what had happened; but next morning they told
him that Caleb did not steal the money, and that papa had written a
letter to beg him to come back.
"And how think we found out that Caleb didn't steal?" asked Stephen.
Of course Willy had not the least idea.
"Because you stole the money yourself!" replied the hectoring Stephen.
"O, what a story!" exclaimed Willy, angrily. "'S if _I'd_ steal!"
"Ah, but you did, little man! I'll leave it to father if you didn't!"
Willy stamped and kicked. He had a high temper when it was aroused, and
his sister Love had to come and quiet him.
"You took the money in your sleep," said she. "You didn't mean to do it;
you are not a thief, dear; and we love you just as well as we did
before."
They all thought Willy must have had a dream about Caleb and the
ox-money, or he would never have gone and taken the singing-book out of
the drawer; but from that day to this he has never been able to
remember the dream.
Caleb cried for joy when he received the letter, and fell on his
knees,--so he afterwards told grandpa Cheever,--and thanked his heavenly
Father for bringing him out of the greatest trial he had ever had in his
life. He was very glad to go back to Mr. Parlin's, and everybody there
received him like a prince. King George the Third, coming in his own
ship from England, would not have been treated half so well; for the
Parlins despised him,--poor crazy monarch,--whereas they now thought
Caleb was the very pink of perfection. Even Seth begged pardon for his
hasty judgment. Mrs. Parlin gave him "election cake," for supper, and
some of her very best ginger preserves, and said she did not see how
they could make up for the pain of mind he had suffered.
Caleb confessed that he _had_ felt "kind o' bad; but it wasn't worth
speaking of now."
After this, when Willy told any improbable story, and insisted that it
was true, as children often will, his mother had only to remark,--
"Remember Caleb! You said he wanted your father's money. Is this story
any more reasonable than that?" and Willy would blush, and stammer
out,--
"Well, _perhaps_ it isn't true, mamma. I won't tell it for certain; but
I _think_ so, you know!"
* * * * *
I believe this was the only time that Willy ever did anything in his
sleep that is worth recording. The rest of his adventures occurred when
he was wide awake; so, you see, if he did wrong there was not so much
excuse for him.