THE SEWING CIRCLE.
So deeply engrossed was Aunt Nancy in the work of making ready for the
supper, that the indignities offered Louis by Bill Dean and his partners
passed almost unheeded for the time being.
It is true that now and then she would speak of what had been done,
announcing her intention of complaining again to Bill's father; but the
words would hardly be spoken before something in the culinary line
demanded her attention, and the subject would be dropped until a more
convenient season.
Jack labored most industriously, beating eggs, sifting flour, washing
pans, and keeping the fire roaring, thus doing his full share in the
important preparations.
Louis was forced to remain in the kitchen, despite his great desire to
get out of doors; and both Jack and the little woman kept strict watch
over him, but happily ignorant of the fact that hidden within the
friendly shelter of the alder-bushes were Bill Dean and his chums
watching another opportunity to get hold of the baby as before.
"The sewin' circle is goin' over to old Nancy's termorrer," Bill said in
a whisper, "an' we won't be smart if we don't get a chance to square off
with Hunchie."
"What do you count on doin'?" Sam Phinney asked.
"That's jest what we've got to fix up. The old woman will have her hands
full of company, an' it seems as if we might rig somethin' that'll pay.
Hunchie won't show himself outside the place, for he knows we're layin'
for him, an' our only show is to sneak in while the supper is goin' on."
"We can easy get in the shed an' wait for something to turn up," Jip
Lewis suggested; and the others thought this a very good idea.
"I'll cook up somethin' between now an' then," Bill said confidently.
"There ain't much chance they'll let that youngster out ag'in, so come,
go over on the hill an' see what the fellers there are doin'."
This had the effect of causing the party to adjourn without anything
having been accomplished save an agreement between the three that,
during the meeting of the sewing circle something should be done toward
settling matters with the boy who insisted upon remaining in town after
they had warned him to leave.
During the remainder of the day Aunt Nancy and Jack worked without
ceasing in the kitchen, and when night came the arrangements for the
company were so nearly completed that the little woman said with a sigh
of relief when she and her crooked-assistant were resting under the old
oak,--
"I declare, Jack dear, it is surprising how much we have done since
noon! I never could have gotten through without you, and don't
understand what I did before you came."
"I wish I could do more. It doesn't seem as if I worked half hard enough
to pay for what you've done to help Louis an' me."
"Bless you, child, I'd be paid a dozen times over if I had nothing more
than your company; and as for work, why, you've done twice as much as
Daniel Chick's daughter would in the same time, and I should have paid
her fifty cents, at least, if you hadn't been here."
"It doesn't seem very much anyhow; but if you're satisfied, why that
settles it, of course. I wonder if Bill Dean's crowd will try to get
hold of Louis again?"
"Not after I've seen his father, and that's just what I intend to do
when the circle meetin' is over. We had better get old crumple-horn in
the yard now so we can go to bed early, for I count on being at work by
sunrise to-morrow."
The chores were quickly done, the house searched once more for possible
intruders, the evening devotions concluded, and Jack went to his tiny
room happy in the thought that he had been of considerable assistance to
Aunt Nancy.
The finishing touches were completed by noon on the following day, and
the little woman was arrayed in all her antiquated finery to receive the
expected guests.
Jack had only the suit of clothes he had worn at the time of leaving the
"Atlanta," consequently very little could be done on his part toward
"dressing up"; but his face shone from repeated applications of soap and
water, his hair was combed until every portion of it looked as if it had
been fastened in place, and his shoes had a very high polish.
Louis's white frock had been washed and ironed, therefore he was, as
Aunt Nancy expressed it, "in apple-pie order, and as pretty a baby as
ever came into Maine."
"I suppose we shall have to put some of the horses in the stable, Jack
dear, for a good many of the people will ride, and the question is
whether you could unharness them?" Aunt Nancy said as she sat in the
"fore-room" awaiting the coming of the guests.
"I never did such a thing; but it can't be hard if a feller watches how
the harness comes off."
"You are smart enough to do almost anything. I'm certain there won't be
trouble," Aunt Nancy said in a tone of conviction, and then the rumble
of wheels on the lane told that the first of the "company" was coming.
The newcomer was Mrs. Souders, who drove a horse Jack felt confident he
could unharness; and as she alighted he stood by the head of the
venerable animal as he had seen regular grooms do in the city.
From that time until nearly three o'clock the hunchback was kept very
busy attending to the stable work.
Not less than ten horses were driven into the yard, and he was expected
to put them in a barn where were but two stalls, including the one it
would be necessary to reserve for old crumple-horn.
It was some time before he could solve the problem, but it was finally
done by hitching several to the fence outside, and standing the
remainder on the thrashing-floor.
The matter of harness and carriages troubled him considerably; but he
believed the owners of the same would be able to recognize their
property, therefore no attempt was made to keep them in regular order.
When the visitors ceased to arrive, and Aunt Nancy told him she did not
think any more were coming, he went to the pump for a thorough wash, and
while thus engaged heard a certain portion of the conversation which
came from the "fore-room" where the members of the circle were supposed
to be working very hard to relieve the poor and distressed by supplying
them with garments, each fashioned according to the fancy of its maker.
Not for a moment would Jack have thought of deliberately playing the
part of eavesdropper; but hearing reference made to Louis and himself,
it was only natural he should linger longer than was absolutely
necessary.
Mrs. Souders was speaking when he first came near the house, and he
heard her say quite sharply,--
"Why, Nancy Curtis, are you thinkin' of adoptin' a couple of children at
your time of life, an' one of 'em a worthless cripple that'll always be
a bill of expense? It seems as if you'd lived long enough in the world
to be more sensible."
"I'd like to know, Sarah Souders, why you think Jack is 'worthless'?"
the little woman asked in a tone of indignation.
"Because he can't be anything else. A hunchback isn't any better than a
reg'lar invalid, an' besides I've always heard it said they are terribly
conceited."
"Then this one is an exception. I never had a girl on the farm that
helped me as much as he does, and as for the baby--"
"That's it exactly," Mrs. Souders interrupted. "It seems that the
cripple isn't enough, but you are determined to make your cross heavier
by taking care of a baby, when it would be better to think of restin'
your old bones."
"If it is a pleasure to me, it would seem as if nothing should be said
against it," Aunt Nancy replied mildly. "I only wish it might be
possible for me to keep the little fellow as long as I live."
Then Jack heard that which told him Aunt Nancy was kissing the baby, and
he said to himself,--
"If these people think Aunt Nancy has no business to keep me here, I
s'pose they are right, an' I oughter go away."
"Of course you've the privilege of doing as you please, Nancy Curtis,"
Mrs. Souders continued, "but I must maintain that it is wrong for you to
be obliged to support two helpless children when it is hard work to make
both ends meet. I am only sayin' this for your own good, Nancy, an' both
Mrs. Hayes an' myself decided it was the duty of some one to talk with
you about it."
The little woman made no reply to this, and Jack was forced to leave the
pump, since his toilet had been completed.
"They've made her believe it," he said to himself as the tears would
persist in coming into his eyes, "an' it's my place to tell her I'll go.
Then she won't have any more trouble with Bill Dean's crowd."
He firmly believed it was necessary he and Louis should leave the farm,
and the knowledge that Aunt Nancy depended upon him during this day, at
least, was a positive pleasure.
It had been agreed he should wait upon the table.
Such dishes as could not well remain on the overladen board were to be
left in the small summer kitchen, and the little woman had arranged a
system of signals by which he could understand what she wanted.
Although it was yet too soon for supper, he went to his post of duty in
order to be ready at the earliest moment Aunt Nancy should require his
services, and there stayed, thinking mournfully of what he had heard.
In the mean while the stable was unguarded, for Jack had no idea danger
was to be apprehended from that quarter, and at about the same time he
entered the kitchen, Bill Dean said to his companions who had followed
him into the shed,--
"I did have a plan for some fun, fellers; but now there's a bigger show
than we ever struck. I don't reckon Hunchie knows very much about
harnessin' horses, an' even if he does we'll set him wild."
"How?" Sam asked in a whisper.
"It ain't likely anybody will go out to the barn till after supper, is
it?"
"Of course not."
"Then all we've got to do is to sneak around back of the stable. I know
how to get in from there, an' we'll mix them harnesses up in sich shape
that even Mike Crane himself couldn't put 'em together in less'n one
day."
"You're a brick, Bill, at fixin' things. Let's hurry, for it'll take
quite awhile."
With decidedly more care than was necessary, the conspirators crept out
of the shed, and, going around by the rear of the buildings, entered the
barn where Jack had left the harness.
There was not one in the party who would not have grumbled loud and long
had he been obliged to work as rapidly and hard as was necessary in
order to effect their purpose; but since it was mischief instead of
useful labor, neither so much as dreamed of complaining.
The harness belonging to the teams driven by Mrs. Souders and Mrs. Hayes
received the greater portion of their attention.
On them nearly every strap was shortened or lengthened, and other parts
interchanged, until one not thoroughly familiar with both could hardly
have recognized the original set.
Each in turn was overhauled, and when the mischief-makers left the barn
there was no question but that Jack would have great difficulty in
untangling the snarl, even if he should ever be able to do so.
"I reckon that will make all hands mad, an' Hunchie's the one who is
bound to get the blame," Bill said with a chuckle of satisfaction as
they stood for an instant at the rear of the barn. "Now where'll we
stay to watch the fun?"
"Out by the cow-yard. The grass is so tall nobody'll ever see us."
This appeared to be a good idea, and the three adopted it at once,
although all believed it must be several hours before Jack would be
called upon to harness the horses.
In the kitchen the deformed boy, with a heart so heavy it seemed as if
he could never smile again, waited patiently until a bustle from the
"fore-room" told that the guests were making preparations to discuss
Aunt Nancy's supper.
"They are getting ready to come," the little woman said excitedly, as
she entered the kitchen hurriedly. "Help me fill these plates with
biscuit, and then cover the rest over and leave them in the oven till
they are needed. I was afraid I should have bad luck with my bread; but
it seems to be all right."
"Them biscuit couldn't be better if the Queen of England had made 'em,"
Jack replied emphatically.
"I'm sure I don't know what kind of a breadmaker she may be; but I
wouldn't like to have it said that even a queen could do better than I,
taking it the whole year through, an' allowing for the trouble that
yeast will sometimes cause."
Aunt Nancy was ready to go into the main kitchen, which on this occasion
had been converted into a dining-room, and Jack followed close behind
with his hands full of plates.
It so chanced that the guests had not waited to be summoned, but came
from the "fore-room" under the pretence of assisting the little woman,
and Jack, who was walking quite rapidly, intent only on carrying the
dishes without accident, ran directly into Mrs. Souders.
That lady had never been celebrated for curbing her temper, and to-day
she appeared to be in a very ill-humor, probably because of something
which may have been said by her friends in the "fore-room."
Therefore, instead of treating the matter as an accident, and
acknowledging she had no business to be standing in the way of those who
were working, she wheeled suddenly and gave the cripple a resounding
blow on the ear, which sent him headlong, scattering plates and biscuit
in every direction.
"You little beggar!" she screamed, as her face grew crimson with rage.
"I didn't come here to have any of your low tricks played on me. If
Nancy Curtis hasn't got spirit enough to give you a lesson, I'll do it
myself."
She stepped quickly toward poor Jack, who stood silent and motionless
surveying the wreck of Aunt Nancy's best crockery, never for a moment
thinking the guest had any idea of inflicting further punishment, and
seized him by the coat collar.
Jack involuntarily threw up his arm to ward off the blow; but the heavy
hand descended twice in rapid succession, and then it was grasped from
behind as the little woman's voice, trembling with suppressed rage, was
heard,--
"Sarah Souders, aren't you ashamed to strike a cripple?"
"Indeed I'm not when it is one like this, whose place is at the poor
farm rather than in decent people's houses"; and the lady would have
repeated the blow but for the fact that Aunt Nancy clung to her with
nervous desperation.
"Don't you _dare_ strike that child again, Sarah Souders!" she cried. "I
am trying hard to rule my spirit, but the struggle may be too much for
my strength, and then I shall say that which would make me sorry
afterward."
"You should be sorry now when you reject the advice of your best
friends," Mrs. Souders replied; but she released her hold of Jack's
collar, and he began gathering up the fragments of crockery and bread.
"If you mean that I ought to throw these children, who have made my life
happier than it has been for many years, out on to a world of such
hard-hearted people as you, then it is time you tried to understand the
meaning of the word 'charity,'" the little woman said with a slight
tremor of the voice as she stepped back a few paces from her angry
guest. "The fault was yours, so far as his running into you was
concerned. He was doing his work, and you were in his way."
"I didn't suppose your foolishness had gone so far that you would uphold
the crooked little beggar when he deliberately insults one who has been
your best friend."
"He had no intention of insulting you, and I do not want him called a
beggar, for he isn't. Even though he was, I have yet to learn that
poverty is a crime."
"I see plainly this is no place for me. The most you can do now is to
turn me out of doors."
"I do not wish to do anything of the kind, but feel called upon to
advise that you think the matter over before speaking again."
"That is sufficient, Nancy Curtis, quite sufficient. Jane Hayes, will
you go with me, or do you prefer to remain?"
"I shall stay here," Mrs. Hayes replied; and with a fling of her skirts,
which was probably intended to express both indignation and injury
received, Mrs. Souders sailed out of the room.