Baffled
In the general consciousness Nature is regarded as feminine, and even
those who love her most will have to adopt Mrs. Mumpson's oft-expressed
opinion of the sex and admit that she is sometimes a "peculiar female."
During the month of March, in which our story opens, there was scarcely
any limit to her varying moods. It would almost appear that she was
taking a mysterious interest in Holcroft's affairs; but whether it was
a kindly interest or not, one might be at a loss to decide. When she
caught him away from home, she pelted him with the coldest of rain and
made his house, with even Mrs. Mumpson and Jane abiding there, seem a
refuge. In the morning after the day on which he had brought, or in a
sense had carted, Mrs. Wiggins to his domicile, Nature was evidently
bent on instituting contrasts between herself and the rival phases of
femininity with which the farmer was compelled to associate. It may
have been that she had another motive and was determined to keep her
humble worshiper at her feet, and to render it impossible for him to
make the changes toward which he had felt himself driven.
Being an early riser he was up with the sun, and the sun rose so
serenely and smiled so benignly that Holcroft's clouded brow cleared in
spite of all that had happened or could take place. The rain, which
had brought such discomfort the night before, had settled the ground
and made it comparatively firm to his tread. The southern breeze which
fanned his cheek was as soft as the air of May. He remembered that it
was Sunday, and that beyond feeding his stock and milking, he would
have nothing to do. He exulted in the unusual mildness and thought,
with an immense sense of relief, "I can stay outdoors nearly all day."
He resolved to let his help kindle the fire and get breakfast as they
could, and to keep out of their way. Whatever changes the future might
bring, he would have one more long day in rambling about his fields and
in thinking over the past. Feeling that there need be no haste about
anything, he leisurely inhaled the air, fragrant from springing grass,
and listened with a vague, undefined pleasure to the ecstatic music of
the bluebirds, song-sparrows, and robins. If anyone had asked him why
he liked to hear them, he would have replied, "I'm used to 'em. When
they come, I know that plowing and planting time is near."
It must be admitted that Holcroft's enjoyment of spring was not very
far removed from that of the stock in his barnyard. All the animal
creation rejoices in the returning sun and warmth. A subtle, powerful
influence sets the blood in more rapid motion, kindles new desires, and
awakens a glad expectancy. All that is alive becomes more thoroughly
alive and existence in itself is a pleasure. Spring had always brought
to the farmer quickened pulses, renewed activity and hopefulness, and
he was pleased to find that he was not so old and cast down that its
former influence had spent itself. Indeed, it seemed that never before
had his fields, his stock, and outdoor work--and these comprised Nature
to him--been so attractive. They remained unchanged amid the sad
changes which had clouded his life, and his heart clung more
tenaciously than ever to old scenes and occupations. They might not
bring him happiness again, but he instinctively felt that they might
insure a comfort and peace with which he could be content.
At last he went to the barn and began his work, doing everything
slowly, and getting all the solace he could from the tasks. The horses
whinnied their welcome and he rubbed their noses caressingly as he fed
them. The cows came briskly to the rack in which he foddered them in
pleasant weather, and when he scratched them between the horns they
turned their mild, Juno-like eyes upon him with undisguised affection.
The chickens, clamoring for their breakfast, followed so closely that
he had to be careful where he stepped. Although he knew that all this
good will was based chiefly on the hope of food and the remembrance of
it in the past, nevertheless it soothed and pleased him. He was in
sympathy with this homely life; it belonged to him and was dependent on
him; it made him honest returns for his care. Moreover, it was
agreeably linked with the past. There were quiet cows which his wife
had milked, clucking biddies which she had lifted from nests with their
downy broods. He looked at them wistfully, and was wondering if they
ever missed the presence that he regretted so deeply, when he became
conscious that Jane's eyes were upon him. How long she had been
watching him he did not know, but she merely said, "Breakfast's ready,"
and disappeared.
With a sigh he went to his room to perform his ablutions, remembering
with a slight pang how his wife always had a basin and towel ready for
him in the kitchen. In the breaking up of just such homely customs, he
was continually reminded of his loss.
On awakening to the light of this Sabbath morning, Mrs. Mumpson had
thought deeply and reasoned everything out again. She felt that it
must be an eventful day and that there was much to be accomplished. In
the first place there was Mrs. Wiggins. She disapproved of her
decidedly. "She isn't the sort of person that I would prefer to
superintend," she remarked to Jane while making a toilet which she
deemed befitting the day, "and the hour will assuredly come when Mr.
Holcroft will look upon her in the light that I do. He will eventually
realize that I cannot be brought in such close relationship with a
pauper. Not that the relationship is exactly close, but then I shall
have to speak to her--in brief, to superintend her. My eyes will be
offended by her vast proportions and uncouth appearance. The floor
creaks beneath her tread and affects my nerves seriously. Of course,
while she is here, I shall zealously, as befits one in my responserble
position, try to render useful such service as she can perform. But
then, the fact that I disapprove of her must soon become evident. When
it is discovered that I only tolerate her, there will be a change. I
cannot show my disapproval very strongly today for this is a day set
apart for sacred things, and Mrs. Viggins, as she called herself,--I
cannot imagine a Mr. Viggins for no man in his senses could have
married such a creature,--as I was saying, Mrs. Viggins is not at all
sacred, and I must endeavor to abstract my mind from her till tomorrow,
as far as posserble. My first duty today is to induce Mr. Holcroft to
take us to church. It will give the people of Oakville such a pleasing
impression to see us driving to church. Of course, I may fail, Mr.
Holcroft is evidently a hardened man. All the influences of his life
have been adverse to spiritual development, and it may require some
weeks of my influence to soften him and awaken yearnings for what he
has not yet known."
"He may be yearnin' for breakfast," Jane remarked, completing her
toilet by tying her little pigtail braid with something that had once
been a bit of black ribbon, but was now a string. "You'd better come
down soon and help."
"If Mrs. Viggins cannot get breakfast, I would like to know what she is
here for" continued Mrs. Mumpson loftily, and regardless of Jane's
departure. "I shall decline to do menial work any longer, especially on
this sacred day, and after I have made my toilet for church. Mr.
Holcroft has had time to think. My disapproval was manifest last night
and it has undoubtedly occurred to him that he has not conformed to the
proprieties of life. Indeed, I almost fear I shall have to teach him
what the proprieties of life are. He witnessed my emotions when he
spoke as he should not have spoken to ME. But I must make allowances
for his unregenerate state. He was cold, and wet, and hungry last
night, and men are unreasonerble at such times. I shall now heap coals
of fire upon his head. I shall show that I am a meek, forgiving
Christian woman, and he will relent, soften, and become penitent. Then
will be my opportunity," and she descended to the arena which should
witness her efforts.
During the period in which Mrs. Mumpson had indulged in these lofty
reflections and self-communings, Mrs. Wiggins had also arisen. I am
not sure whether she had thought of anything in particular or not. She
may have had some spiritual longings which were not becoming to any day
of the week. Being a woman of deeds, rather than of thought, probably
not much else occurred to her beyond the duty of kindling the fire and
getting breakfast. Jane came down, and offered to assist, but was
cleared out with no more scruple than if Mrs. Wiggins had been one of
the much-visited relatives.
"The hidee," she grumbled, "of 'avin' sich a little trollop round
hunder my feet!"
Jane, therefore, solaced herself by watching the "cheap girl" till her
mother appeared.
Mrs. Mumpson sailed majestically in and took the rocking chair,
mentally thankful that it had survived the crushing weight imposed upon
it the evening before. Mrs. Wiggins did not drop a courtesy. Indeed,
not a sign of recognition passed over her vast, immobile face. Mrs.
Mumpson was a little embarrassed. "I hardly know how to comport myself
toward that female," she thought. "She is utterly uncouth. Her manners
are unmistakerbly those of a pauper. I think I will ignore her today.
I do not wish my feelings ruffled or put out of harmony with the sacred
duties and motives which actuate me."
Mrs. Mumpson therefore rocked gently, solemnly, and strange to say,
silently, and Mrs. Wiggins also proceeded with her duties, but not in
silence, for everything in the room trembled and clattered at her
tread. Suddenly she turned on Jane and said, "'Ere, you little
baggage, go and tell the master breakfast's ready."
Mrs. Mumpson sprang from her chair, and with a voice choked with
indignation, gasped, "Do you dare address my offspring thus?"
"Yer vat?"
"My child, my daughter, who is not a pauper, but the offspring of a
most respecterble woman and respecterbly connected. I'm amazed, I'm
dumfoundered, I'm--"
"Ye're a bit daft, hi'm a-thinkin'." Then to Jane, "Vy don't ye go an'
hearn yer salt?"
"Jane, I forbid--" But it had not taken Jane half a minute to decide
between the now jarring domestic powers, and henceforth she would be at
Mrs. Wiggins' beck and call. "She can do somethin'," the child
muttered, as she stole upon Holcroft.
Mrs. Mumpson sank back in her chair, but her mode of rocking betokened
a perturbed spirit. "I will restrain myself till tomorrow, and then--"
She shook her head portentously and waited till the farmer appeared,
feeling assured that Mrs. Wiggins would soon be taught to recognize her
station. When breakfast was on the table, she darted to her place
behind the coffeepot, for she felt that there was no telling what this
awful Mrs. Wiggins might not assume during this day of sacred
restraint. But the ex-pauper had no thought of presumption in her
master's presence, and the rocking chair again distracted Mrs.
Mumpson's nerves as it creaked under an unwonted weight.
Holcroft took his seat in silence. The widow again bowed her head
devoutly, and sighed deeply when observing that the farmer ignored her
suggestion.
"I trust that you feel refreshed after your repose," she said benignly.
"I do."
"It is a lovely morning--a morning, I may add, befitting the sacred
day. Nature is at peace and suggests that we and all should be at
peace."
"There's nothing I like more, Mrs. Mumpson, unless it is quiet."
"I feel that way, myself. You don't know what restraint I have put
upon myself that the sacred quiet of this day might not be disturbed.
I have had strong provercation since I entered this apartment. I will
forbear to speak of it till tomorrow in order that there may be
quietness and that our minds may be prepared for worship. I feel that
it would be unseemly for us to enter a house of worship with thoughts
of strife in our souls. At precisely what moment do you wish me to be
ready for church?"
"I am not going to church, Mrs. Mumpson."
"Not going to church! I--I--scarcely understand. Worship is such a
sacred duty--"
"You and Jane certainly have a right to go to church, and since it is
your wish, I'll take you down to Lemuel Weeks' and you can go with
them."
"I don't want to go to Cousin Lemuel's, nor to church, nuther," Jane
protested.
"Why, Mr. Holcroft," began the widow sweetly, "after you've once
harnessed up it will take but a little longer to keep on to the meeting
house. It would appear so seemly for us to drive thither, as a matter
of course. It would be what the communerty expects of us. This is not
our day, that we should spend it carnally. We should be
spiritually-minded. We should put away things of earth. Thoughts of
business and any unnecessary toil should be abhorrent. I have often
thought that there was too much milking done on Sunday among farmers.
I know they say it is essential, but they all seem so prone to forget
that but one thing is needful. I feel it borne in upon my mind, Mr.
Holcroft, that I should plead with you to attend divine worship and
seek an uplifting of your thoughts. You have no idea how differently
the day may end, or what emotions may be aroused if you place yourself
under the droppings of the sanctuary."
"I'm like Jane, I don't wish to go," said Mr. Holcroft nervously.
"But my dear Mr. Holcroft,"--the farmer fidgeted under this
address,--"the very essence of true religion is to do what we don't
wish to do. We are to mortify the flesh and thwart the carnal mind.
The more thorny the path of self-denial is, the more certain it's the
right path. I've already entered upon it," she continued, turning a
momentary glare upon Mrs. Wiggins. "Never before was a respecterble
woman so harrowed and outraged; but I am calm; I am endeavoring to
maintain a frame of mind suiterble to worship, and I feel it my bounden
duty to impress upon you that worship is a necessity to every human
being. My conscience would not acquit me if I did not use all my
influence--"
"Very well, Mrs. Mumpson, you and your conscience are quits. You have
used all your influence. I will do as I said--take you to Lemuel
Weeks'--and you can go to church with his family," and he rose from the
table.
"But Cousin Lemuel is also painfully blind to his spiritual interests--"
Holcroft did not stay to listen and was soon engaged in the morning
milking. Jane flatly declared that she would not go to Cousin Lemuel's
or to church. "It don't do me no good, nor you, nuther," she sullenly
declared to her mother.
Mrs. Mumpson now resolved upon a different line of tactics. Assuming a
lofty, spiritual air, she commanded Jane to light a fire in the parlor,
and retired thither with the rocking chair. The elder widow looked
after her and ejaculated, "Vell, hif she haint the craziest loon hi
hever 'eard talk. Hif she vas blind she might 'a' seen that the master
didn't vant hany sich lecturin' clack."
Having kindled the fire, the child was about to leave the room when her
mother interposed and said solemnly, "Jane, sit down and keep Sunday."
"I'm going to help Mrs. Wiggins if she'll let me."
"You will not so demean yourself. I wish you to have no relations
whatever with that female in the kitchen. If you had proper
self-respect, you would never speak to her again."
"We aint visitin' here. If I can't work indoors, I'll tell him I'll
work outdoors."
"It's not proper for you to work today. I want you to sit there in the
corner and learn the Fifth Commandment."
"Aint you goin' to Cousin Lemuel's?"
"On mature reflection, I have decided to remain at home."
"I thought you would if you had any sense left. You know well enough
we aint wanted down there. I'll go tell him not to hitch up."
"Well, I will permit you to do so. Then return to your Sunday task."
"I'm goin' to mind him," responded the child. She passed rapidly and
apprehensively through the kitchen, but paused on the doorstep to make
some overtures to Mrs. Wiggins. If that austere dame was not to be
propitiated, a line of retreat was open to the barn. "Say," she began,
to attract attention.
"Vell, young-un," replied Mrs. Wiggins, rendered more pacific by her
breakfast.
"Don't you want me to wash up the dishes and put 'em away? I know how."
"Hi'll try ye. Hif ye breaks hanythink--" and the old woman nodded
volumes at the child.
"I'll be back in a minute," said Jane. A moment later she met Holcroft
carrying two pails of milk from the barnyard. He was about to pass
without noticing her, but she again secured attention by her usual
preface, "Say," when she had a somewhat extended communication to make.
"Come to the dairy room, Jane, and say your say there," said Holcroft
not unkindly.
"She aint goin' to Cousin Lemuel's," said the girl, from the door.
"What is she going to do."
"Rock in the parlor. Say, can't I help Mrs. Wiggins wash up the dishes
and do the work?"
"Certainly, why not?"
"Mother says I must sit in the parlor 'n' learn Commandments 'n' keep
Sunday."
"Well, Jane, which do you think you ought to do?"
"I think I oughter work, and if you and Mrs. Wiggins will let me, I
will work in spite of mother."
"I think that you and your mother both should help do the necessary
work today. There won't be much."
"If I try and help Mrs. Wiggins, mother'll bounce out at me. She shook
me last night after I went upstairs, and she boxed my ears 'cause I
wanted to keep the kitchen fire up last night."
"I'll go with you to the kitchen and tell Mrs. Wiggins to let you help,
and I won't let your mother punish you again unless you do wrong."
Mrs. Wiggins, relying on Jane's promise of help, had sat down to the
solace of her pipe for a few minutes, but was about to thrust it
hastily away on seeing Holcroft. He reassured her by saying
good-naturedly, "No need of that, my good woman. Sit still and enjoy
your pipe. I like to smoke myself. Jane will help clear away things
and I wish her to. You'll find she's quite handy. By the way, have you
all the tobacco you want?"
"Vell, now, master, p'raps ye know the 'lowance down hat the poor-us
vasn't sich as ud keep a body in vat ye'd call satisfyin' smokin'. Hi
never 'ad henough ter keep down the 'ankerin'."
"I suppose that's so. You shall have half of my stock, and when I go
to town again, I'll get you a good supply. I guess I'll light my pipe,
too, before starting for a walk."
"Bless yer 'art, master, ye makes a body comf'terble. Ven hi smokes,
hi feels more hat 'ome and kind o' contented like. An hold 'ooman like
me haint got much left to comfort 'er but 'er pipe."
"Jane!" called Mrs. Mumpson sharply from the parlor. As there was no
answer, the widow soon appeared in the kitchen door. Smoking was one
of the unpardonable sins in Mrs. Mumpson's eyes; and when she saw Mrs.
Wiggins puffing comfortably away and Holcroft lighting his pipe, while
Jane cleared the table, language almost failed her. She managed to
articulate, "Jane, this atmosphere is not fit for you to breathe on
this sacred day. I wish you to share my seclusion."
"Mrs. Mumpson, I have told her to help Mrs. Wiggins in the necessary
work," Holcroft interposed.
"Mr. Holcroft, you don't realize--men never do--Jane is my offspring,
and--"
"Oh, if you put it that way, I shan't interfere between mother and
child. But I suppose you and Jane came here to work."
"If you will enter the parlor, I will explain to you fully my views,
and--"
"Oh, please excuse me!" said Holcroft, hastily passing out. "I was just
starting for a walk--I'm bound to have one more day to myself on the
old place," he muttered as he bent his steps toward an upland pasture.
Jane, seeing that her mother was about to pounce upon her, ran behind
Mrs. Wiggins, who slowly rose and began a progress toward the irate
widow, remarking as she did so, "Hi'll just shut the door 'twixt ye and
yer hoffspring, and then ye kin say yer prayers hon the t'other side."
Mrs. Mumpson was so overcome at the turn affairs had taken on this day,
which was to witness such progress in her plans and hopes, as to feel
the absolute necessity of a prolonged season of thought and soliloquy,
and she relapsed, without further protest, into the rocking chair.