JACK'S MISCHIEF
One of the first results of the new prosperity which had dawned upon the
Hardings, was Jack's removal from the street to the school. While his
father was out of employment, his earnings seemed necessary; but now
they could be dispensed with.
To Jack, the change was not altogether agreeable. Few boys of the
immature age of eleven are devoted to study, and Jack was not one of
these few. The freedom which he had enjoyed suited him, and he tried to
impress it upon his father that there was no immediate need of his
returning to school.
"Do you want to grow up a dunce, Jack?" said his father.
"I can read and write already," said Jack.
"Are you willing to enter upon life with that scanty supply of
knowledge?"
"Oh, I guess I can get along as well as the average."
"I don't know about that. Besides, I want you to do better than the
average. I am ambitious for you, if you are not ambitious for yourself."
"I don't see what good it does a feller to study so hard," muttered
Jack.
"You won't study hard enough to do you any harm," said Aunt Rachel, who
might be excused for a little sarcasm at the expense of her mischievous
nephew.
"It makes my head ache to study," said Jack.
"Perhaps your head is weak, Jack," suggested his father, slyly.
"More than likely," said Rachel, approvingly.
So it was decided that Jack should go to school.
"I'll get even with Aunt Rachel," thought he. "She's always talking
against me, and hectorin' me. See if I don't."
An opportunity for getting even with his aunt did not immediately occur.
At length a plan suggested itself to our hero. He shrewdly suspected
that his aunt's single blessedness, and her occasional denunciations
of the married state, proceeded from disappointment.
"I'll bet she'd get married if she had a chance," he thought. "I mean
to try her, anyway."
Accordingly, with considerable effort, aided by a school-fellow, he
concocted the following letter, which was duly copied and forwarded
to his aunt's address:
"DEAR GIRL: Excuse the liberty I have taken in writing to you;
but I have seen you often, though you don't know me; and you are
the only girl I want to marry. I am not young--I am about your age,
thirty-five--and I have a good trade. I have always wanted to be
married, but you are the only one I know of to suit me. If you think
you can love me, will you meet me in Washington Park, next Tuesday,
at four o'clock? Wear a blue ribbon round your neck, if you want to
encourage me. I will have a red rose pinned to my coat.
"Don't say anything to your brother's family about this. They may not
like me, and they may try to keep us apart. Now be sure and come.
DANIEL."
This letter reached Miss Rachel just before Jack went to school one
morning. She read it through, first in surprise, then with an appearance
of pleasure.
"Who's your letter from, Aunt Rachel?" asked Jack, innocently.
"Children shouldn't ask questions about what don't concern 'em," said
his aunt.
"I thought maybe it was a love letter," said he.
"Don't make fun of your aunt," said his father, reprovingly.
"Jack's question is only a natural one," said Rachel, to her brother's
unbounded astonishment. "I suppose I ain't so old but I might be married
if I wanted to."
"I thought you had put all such thoughts out of your head long ago,
Rachel."
"If I have, it's because the race of men are so shiftless," said his
sister. "They ain't worth marrying."
"Is that meant for me?" asked the cooper, good-naturedly.
"You're all alike," said Rachel, tossing her head.
She put the letter carefully into her pocket, without deigning any
explanation.
"I suppose it's from some of her old acquaintances," thought her
brother, and he dismissed the subject.
As soon as she could, Rachel took refuge in her room. She carefully
locked the door, and read the letter again.
"Who can he be?" thought the agitated spinster. "Do I know anybody of
the name of Daniel? It must be some stranger that has fallen in love
with me unbeknown. What shall I do?"
She sat in meditation for a short time. Then she read the letter again.
"He will be very unhappy if I frown upon him," she said to herself,
complacently. "It's a great responsibility to make a fellow being
unhappy. It's a sacrifice, I know, but it's our duty to deny ourselves.
I don't know but I ought to go and meet him."
This was Rachel's conclusion.
The time was close at hand. The appointment was for that very afternoon.
"I wouldn't have my brother or Martha know it for the world," murmured
Rachel to herself, "nor that troublesome Jack. Martha's got some blue
ribbon, but I don't dare to ask her for it, for fear she'll suspect
something. No, I must go out and buy some."
"I'm goin' to walk, Martha," she said, as she came downstairs.
"Going to walk in the forenoon! Isn't that something unusual?"
"I've got a little headache. I guess it'll do me good," said Rachel.
"I hope it will," said her sister-in-law, sympathetically.
Rachel went to the nearest dry-goods store, and bought a yard of blue
ribbon.
"Only a yard?" inquired the clerk, in some surprise.
"That will do," said Rachel, nervously, coloring a little, as though the
use which she designed for it might be suspected.
She paid for the ribbon, and presently returned.
"Does your head feel any better, Rachel?" asked Mrs. Harding.
"A little," answered Rachel.
"You've been sewing too steady lately, perhaps?" suggested Martha.
"Perhaps I have," assented Rachel.
"You ought to spare yourself. You can't stand work as well as when you
were younger," said Martha, innocently.
"A body'd think I was a hundred by the way you talk," said Rachel,
sharply.
"I didn't mean to offend you, Rachel. I thought you might feel as I do.
I get tired easier than I used to."
"I guess I'll go upstairs," said Rachel, in the same tone. "There isn't
anybody there to tell me how old I am gettin'."
"It's hard to make Rachel out," thought Mrs. Harding. "She takes offense
at the most innocent remark. She can't look upon herself as young, I am
sure."
Upstairs Rachel took out the letter again, and read it through once
more. "I wonder what sort of a man Daniel is," she said to herself. "I
wonder if I have ever noticed him. How little we know what others think
of us! If he's a likely man, maybe it's my duty to marry him. I feel I'm
a burden to Timothy. His income is small, and it'll make a difference of
one mouth. It may be a sacrifice, but it's my duty."
In this way Rachel tried to deceive herself as to the real reason which
led her to regard with favoring eyes the suit of this supposed lover
whom she had never seen, and about whom she knew absolutely nothing.
Jack came home from school at half-past two o'clock. He looked roguishly
at his aunt as he entered. She sat knitting in her usual corner.
"Will she go?" thought Jack. "If she doesn't there won't be any fun."
But Jack, whose trick I am far from defending, was not to be
disappointed.
At three o'clock Rachel rolled up her knitting, and went upstairs.
Fifteen minutes later she came down dressed for a walk.
"Where are you going, Aunt Rachel?" asked Jack.
"Out for a walk," she answered, shortly.
"May I go with you?" he asked, mischievously.
"No; I prefer to go alone," she said, curtly.
"Your aunt has taken a fancy to walking," said Mrs. Harding, when her
sister-in-law had left the house. "She was out this forenoon. I don't
know what has come over her."
"I do," said Jack to himself.
Five minutes later he put on his hat and bent his steps also to
Washington Park.