A DISASTER.
Not for several moments was Aunt Nancy able to decide what should be
done, and then, as the song died away leaving only the deacon's words to
mingle with the reverberation of the surf, she said in a voice which
sounded strained and harsh,--
"It must be done. You shall bring him here, and I will tell the story
myself. When he comes, take Louis and walk down by the beach for a
while."
The little woman could say no more, for at that moment Deacon Downs
asked in his blandest tones,--
"Do you think it would be possible to make a leetle more coffee, Sister
Curtis?"
Aunt Nancy had never been known to refuse a request which involved only
her own discomfort or labor, and on this occasion there was no exception
to the rule.
"It will be ready in a few minutes, Deacon," she replied in a trembling
voice, at the same time keeping her face turned from the party lest
they should see the tears in her eyes.
Jack understood there was no necessity of any further conversation,
therefore walked slowly away, feeling very much like a fellow who
voluntarily goes to receive unmerited punishment.
He now had no fear of Bill Dean and his friends. The present trouble was
so much greater than any they could cause him that it was as if this
particular trio of boys never existed.
Not until he had walked to and fro for half an hour did he begin to
realize it might not be possible to find the farmer amid the throng.
Each succeeding train brought additional worshippers or visitors to the
grove, and the walks were so densely lined with people that he might
have passed within ten feet of Mr. Pratt without seeing him.
Having made up his mind to that which he considered a sacrifice, he was
impatient to have it finished, and walked rapidly until the afternoon
was more than half spent; but all in vain.
It seemed more than probable he had gone home, or at least Jack so
argued to himself, and returned to the tent looking as if suffering from
some grievous disappointment.
Aunt Nancy was at the flap of the canvas house with an expression of
anxiety on her face, but the baby was nowhere to be seen.
"Where's Louis?" Jack asked in alarm.
"Mrs. Hayes is taking care of him. I thought it best he shouldn't be
seen when Mr. Pratt came. Will he be here soon?"
"I couldn't find him; he must have gone home."
The little woman's face lighted up wonderfully as she cried,--
"O Jack dear, I know it is wicked to say, but I am _so_ glad! It is only
right I should bear the burden I myself have caused; but the thought of
losing you and the baby almost broke my heart."
Then she kissed him on both cheeks, and again did he feel the moisture
of her tears.
"Well, Aunt Nancy, you haven't lost us yet awhile, an' if Mr. Pratt has
gone home that settles the matter for a while."
"Yes, Jack dear, but the sin is yet to be atoned for; it is only a
postponement of the evil day."
"Any way there's no need of worryin' about it now. If, when we get home,
you feel that he should know the truth, it won't be much of a job for me
to walk over to his house, an' then," Jack added with a feeble attempt
at a smile, "they won't have so far to carry me when I'm taken to the
poor farm."
"Don't talk in such a manner, my dear, for I am hoping it won't ever
come to pass."
Jack made no reply.
He felt quite confident the farmer would insist on his going to the home
for paupers, but no good could be done by further distressing the little
woman.
"I declare I'd entirely forgotten you and I have had no dinner," she
suddenly said with a nervous laugh. "I'll get some cold meat and bread,
if there is any left; but it is astonishing how strong people's
appetites are at the seashore, especially during camp-meeting time. We
must get along without coffee, for the deacon fairly swam in that second
pot I made."
"I don't feel so terribly hungry," Jack replied; "but I'll sit down for
the sake of seeing you eat. As to the coffee, that don't trouble me;
water is good enough for boys."
"It is more wholesome I admit; but there's nothing good enough for a
dear heart like yours."
Then the little woman bustled around as Jack had seen her do at home,
and in a few moments a most appetizing lunch was spread, the amount of
food contradicting her fears that all the provisions had been consumed.
The two made a hearty meal, considering all their troubles, and when it
was concluded Jack helped Aunt Nancy set the tent to rights generally,
so when the remainder of the party returned from afternoon services
everything was in proper order.
Mrs. Hayes brought Louis with her, and after delivering him to Jack she
said with a sigh of relief,--
"I declare, Sister Curtis, it is a real pleasure to come to camp meeting
with you. It takes the care off of one entirely. I only wish I had your
knack at going ahead. Now look at me; I'm almost worn out looking after
the baby, and don't feel as if I could do a stitch toward getting
supper."
The other ladies in the party appeared to be in the same condition of
prostration, and the little woman, tired though she was from the labor
of preparing and serving dinner for so many, meekly replied that she was
perfectly willing to give them a rest by performing all the work.
Jack heard the compliment paid by Mrs. Hayes, and understood that it had
been given only for the purpose of getting the little woman to continue
on while the others enjoyed their leisure.
"I'm goin' to help you, Aunt Nancy," he said in a low tone as he went
toward the stove where she was making ready to bake some biscuit. "It's
too bad for you to do all this work while the others are havin' a good
time."
"Oh, I don't mind it, dear, so long as I can be of service to some one.
We are put in this world to help others, and it should be a pleasure."
"But you're doin' all instead of helpin'. Now tell me what I can do, if
you're bound to wait on the whole crowd."
"Take care of the baby, that will be enough."
"He'll stay around here all right," Jack replied as he placed the little
fellow on the grass, giving him some smooth stones to play with.
Then he set about assisting Aunt Nancy, working so industriously that
Deacon Downs said in a tone of faint approbation,--
"That there little hunchback seems right handy if he wants to, an' if he
wasn't so given to fightin' it might be a good thing for Aunt Nancy to
have him around; but when once a boy gets as quarrelsome as this one, it
ain't much use trying to make anything out of him."
The majority of the party were of the same opinion, and from that time
forth it was believed, at least by those who were present when the
deacon spoke, that Jack was a boy who would fight under the slightest
provocation.
Not until the bell had rung as a signal that the evening services were
about to begin did Jack and Aunt Nancy cease their labors.
The other occupants of the tent had already departed, and the little
woman and her assistant were so tired it seemed almost too great an
exertion to walk to the auditorium.
"Why not go to bed?" Jack asked. "I'll take care of Louis until he gets
sleepy, an' then bring him to you."
"No, it would be wrong to remain here when so many truths will be
presented, simply because I chance to be tired."
"Then we'll all go"; and Jack lifted Louis in his arms.
Aunt Nancy enjoyed the services so much that Jack was very glad she had
come; but as for himself he believed the time would have been quite as
profitably spent in sleeping.
On the following morning at daybreak Deacon Downs aroused the hunchback
with a harshly spoken command to build the fire and awaken Aunt Nancy
when it was burning.
"Are you goin' to make her do all the work?" Jack asked as he started to
his feet.
"Don't be impudent!" the deacon said sternly, raising his cane
threateningly. "Learn to do as you are bidden, and in silence."
Jack made no reply, but felt that the little woman whom he loved so
dearly was being imposed upon.
As for Aunt Nancy, she appeared to have no such idea.
Jack awakened her as he had been told, and she arose from the bed of
straw on which she had lain without undressing, uttering no word of
protest.
"I would have let you sleep till noon, but the deacon told me to, an'
was kinder mad when I asked if you'd got to do all the work," Jack said,
his tones proving there was yet anger in his heart.
"You shouldn't have said anything about it, my dear, for it is a
pleasure to me."
"You try to think it is, but I know it's nothin' more than hard work,
while the others are enjoying a long nap."
"We won't say any more about it, Jack dear. Don't you think you could
get me some water?"
"Of course I can"; and Jack labored with a will, relieving the
tired-looking little woman whenever it was possible.
The second day at camp meeting was spent by these two in much the same
manner as the first, as regards work, and Louis received very little
attention.
Jack, in obedience to Aunt Nancy's request, looked again for Mr. Pratt,
but with no better success than before; and after dinner he washed the
dishes in order that the little woman might attend the afternoon
services.
It was a decided relief to him when the day came on which they were to
return home.
He knew Aunt Nancy had worked too hard, and the bustle and confusion
tired him almost as much as the labor.
Gladly he helped gather up the empty baskets, and when the three were on
the cars being whirled rapidly toward home, the little woman said with a
sigh of relief,--
"What a comfort it will be to find ourselves on the farm once more, Jack
dear! I believe I am getting too old to go to such places, and a week's
rest wouldn't be too much to make me feel like myself again."
"If you had gone alone, without tryin' to run a boardin'-house for them
who didn't care whether you had any fun or not, it would have been
different."
"You don't look at the matter in the proper light, my child. They've
always been accustomed to having Aunt Nancy go at such times, and I
couldn't disappoint them as long as I was able to hold up my head."
Jack realized it was useless to continue this conversation, so far as
convincing the little woman that she had been imposed upon was
concerned, and he remained silent.
Never before had the farm looked so beautiful, either to Jack or the
little woman, as when they arrived home that night, and during the
evening devotions Aunt Nancy's thankfulness was made apparent by the
fervently spoken words.
The hunchback's first care, after opening the house, was to visit the
barn to assure himself old crumple-horn had been well taken care of; but
he could not gain much information in the darkness.
The animal was lying in her stall, and appeared to be in good condition.
Notwithstanding the fact that the house had been closed four days, the
search for burglars was made before retiring, and then Jack, after
seeing Louis tucked snugly in Aunt Nancy's bed, went to his cosey little
room feeling confident he would never again have any desire to attend
another camp meeting.
When the morning came he went out with a light heart to milk the cow,
but to his great surprise still found her lying down.
All in vain did he urge her to get up; she refused to move, nor would
she pay any attention to the tempting lunch of sweet clover he placed
in front of her.
Running back to the house he summoned Aunt Nancy, and both spent fully
an hour alternately coaxing and petting the animal.
"She is very sick, Jack dear, there can be no question about that," the
little woman said as her eyes filled with tears. "It would grieve me if
she should die, for I have owned her a long while."
"How many years?"
"I hardly know; but it can't be less than eighteen."
"Then she must be dying of old age."
"I will go right over to Daniel Chick's and ask him to come here. He's a
master hand at doctoring animals."
Then before Jack could offer to go in her steady Aunt Nancy started down
the lane bareheaded, which showed how deeply she felt the possible loss
of her pet.
In a short time Mr. Chick arrived with the little woman, and his verdict
brought no relief to Aunt Nancy's heart.
"All you can do is to knock her in the head, for she'll never get up
again. It's kinder tough on you, I'll admit, for that cow has been a
powerful help, 'specially when the summer boarders are here; but it
won't do any good to fret."
Aunt Nancy made no reply, but walked slowly to the house as if desirous
of being alone.
"She feels mighty bad I allow," Mr. Chick continued, speaking to Jack.
"I've said many times I didn't know how Aunt Nancy would get along if it
wasn't for the cow, an' now I reckon she'll be eatin' her bread without
butter."
"What will she do when the boarders come?"
"That's what I don't know"; and Mr. Chick walked away as if he had no
further concern in the matter.
Jack sat down where he could watch crumple-horn and at the same time
think over this disaster which had come to the little woman.
While he was trying to form some plan, the poor old cow laid her head on
the sweet-scented clover, gave a few short gasps, and ceased breathing
as if from sheer weariness.
Jack stood over her a moment, and then returned to the house, arriving
there just as Aunt Nancy was emerging with Louis in her arms.
"I wouldn't go out there"; and he motioned toward the barn.
Aunt Nancy looked at him an instant, appearing to understand what he
meant, for she re-entered the house, leaving Jack on the doorstep in a
profound study.
He could hear Louis's voice from the "fore-room" now and then, therefore
it was not necessary to tell him the little woman had gone there to hide
her grief.
"I must do something" he said to himself, "an' what I first thought of
seems to be the only show."
Then going to the door of the "fore-room" and knocking gently, he said
in a low tone,--
"Aunt Nancy, could you spare me a little while?"
"Where are you bound, Jack?"
"I'd like to run down to Treat's store if you don't care."
Aunt Nancy opened the door, and Jack noticed her eyes were red from
weeping.
"What is your idea of going there?" she asked in surprise.
"I've got some business that I'd rather not explain till I get back."
"There's nothing to prevent, my child, and I can trust you not to do
anything wrong."
"I should hope you could," Jack replied emphatically. "You shall know
all about it when I come home."
"Don't try to walk too fast, but return as soon as your business is
finished."
Jack promised to do so, and was hurrying up the lane when the little
woman stopped him with these words:--
"I wish you would call at Daniel Chick's and tell him what has happened.
It will be necessary to bury poor old crumple-horn, and he must attend
to it."
"I'll ask him to come over right away"; and Jack resumed his journey,
wondering whether he was on the point of doing that for which Aunt Nancy
would censure him.
"It doesn't make any difference whether she does or not," he said to
himself. "If I told her she wouldn't let me go, so this is the only way
to fix it."