THE DANCE AT BEAR FORKS
The interesting events which crowded each other, day after day, in this
western life, so engrossed the girls that Bob forgot her vow to send a
telegram for return money to Chicago. She even forgot to write to Mrs.
Maynard at Newport, or to any of her society friends, until Anne
reminded her of a duty to her parents.
Tuesday following their first Sunday at Pebbly Pit, a rancher's wife
called just before noon, to deliver invitations.
"Ah heer'd tell how you-all had comp'ny this summer?" were the words
with which she greeted Mrs. Brewster.
"Yes, a few young people. Will you be seated, Mrs. Halsey?" said Mrs.
Brewster, placing a chair on the vine-shaded porch.
"Ah come t' ast you-all--say, you, Sally, stop pickin' them flowers!
Mis' Brewster'll lick yuh!" The visitor interrupted herself to shout at
her little girl who proved to be a naughty one.
"Ez Ah was sayin', Ah come t' leave an invite fer th' hop at Bear
Forks. We-all is glad t' see Anne Stewart, which was a school-teacher
some time back, an' it was fit t' celebrate her friendship, in some
way. Don't cha think a dance jes' th' thing?" As the visitor spoke she
rocked violently back and forth.
"I'm sorry my visitors are not here to thank you themselves, but I feel
sure they will be delighted to attend the dance," replied Mrs.
Brewster, shaking her head rebukingly at the small boy who stood on the
rockers of his mother's chair, and gripped hold of the back, and so was
roughly swayed back and forth with the rocking.
"See har, yuh Jim Henderson Halsey--git down from thar! Ef Ah ketch
yuh, Ah'll skin yer face fer the hop--that Ah will!" threatened the
mother, trying to reach her young hopeful.
But Jim Henderson Halsey knew from dire experiences just what to expect
did his mother succeed in catching him, so he dodged and ran away.
"Did you-all say the gals would be in shortly?" asked the caller.
"No, I said they were _not_ in. They are at the corral this morning."
"Laws me! What a place t' spend th' mornin'. Ah reckon they'll be along
any time, then."
"They left here just before you came and they are practicing on our
western horses before taking any long trips," explained Mrs. Brewster,
looking regretfully at the flower-beds where the two willful children
were destroying the fruits of her planting.
Mrs. Halsey followed her hostess's glance and jumped up. "Ef yuh two
varmints don't quit that, an' come right t' me, Ah'll--Ah'll shet yuh
up in a boogy-hole!" shrilled the irate mother.
Sary heard the familiar voice and instantly ran from the kitchen to
assist in entertaining the morning visitor. The two bad youngsters,
left to their own devices, began throwing the whitewashed stones that
encircled Mrs. Brewster's roundels.
"How-dy, Miss Halsey?" was Sary's greeting, her large hand extended in
cordial comradeship.
"Oh, it's Sary Dodd! How-dee, Sary? Ah recommember now that you-all
come t' live wid Miss Brewster. How'd you-all like th' place?"
The visitor's frankness lost none of its curiosity as she eagerly
waited to hear all about the Brewster family with the mistress still
present, but ignored.
Sary was in her glory and made the most of it. She had just reached the
point where she intended asking the "gossip" to stop to have dinner,
when a crash interrupted the enlivening Yellow Jacket Pass conversation.
"Sary, run and see what those children have done!" cried Mrs. Brewster,
mentally thanking her stars for the timely intervention.
Soon the ladies heard Jim Henderson Halsey bawling loudly, and his
sister backing away from the buttery while she continued making faces
at the angry help. The little girl's protruded tongue made Sary rush at
her with uplifted palm, but both youngsters were so accustomed to
dodging these attacks, that they reached the haven of Mrs. Halsey's
presence without a painful encounter.
"The ol' thing shook me till my teeth rattled!" wailed Jim Henderson,
etc.
"Sarves yuh right! What cha be'n up t', any way?" retorted Mrs. Halsey,
the hope of dinner still lingering, but growing dim as Sary did not
return.
Fortunately, for the general peace of all concerned, Mr. Brewster drove
up to the porch, on his way to Oak Creek. His wife's beseeching look
appealed to him understandingly.
"Good morning, Mrs. Halsey. Ah hear you-all are inviting folks to the
dance at the school house. Want me to give you a lift to Jamison's
ranch--he hasn't been invited yet!"
"Why, Ah figgered goin' thar after dinner. Be you-all goin' off before
yuh eat?"
"Ah am not sure when we will have dinner to-day, the young ladies are
so engaged with riding, you see."
The moment the Halsey scions heard mention of "dinner" they clung to
their mother's skirts and whined: "We-all wanta stay to dinnerr! Don't
cha go widdout dinnerr!"
"Why not give the children some cake, mother, and then Mrs. Halsey can
have a bite with Jamison. He can lift her on to the next ranch, too,"
suggested Mr. Brewster.
Mrs. Brewster instantly acquiesced and ran to cut three generous
triangles of cake, while her husband came up and lifted Sally up into
the deep wagon. Before any of the Halsey family could protest, he had
turned, lifted Jim Henderson up beside his sister and then asked the
visitor if he could help her up to the seat.
The cake was distributed, and the vexed but vanquished morning caller
jabbed a hat-pin through her rusty toque and pulled her jet-trimmed
shoulder cape tightly over her back, before bowing haughtily to Mrs.
Brewster.
Not until the ranch-wagon turned the edge of Rainbow Cliffs did Mrs.
Brewster permit herself to leave the post of watching and slump down
into the porch rocker with a sigh of gratitude.
Half an hour later the sound of wheels caused her to spring up in
dread, but her husband's cheery laugh relieved her fears.
"Ah saw your difficulty and did the only sensible thing; but we-all
must keep this trick a secret. If Sary gets hold of it, my reputation
in Bear Forks, or Yellow Jacket Pass, is gone," confided Sam Brewster
to his wife, as he glanced fearfully about for Sary.
The horn for dinner sounded shortly after the master's return and, at
the table, the girls were told of the visitor and her invitation to the
dance, but no word of her form of departure was mentioned.
"It's lucky we have evening-dresses," remarked Barbara.
"Do folks dress up at these parties?" asked Eleanor.
"I should say we do!" declared Polly.
Mrs. Brewster and Anne were talking in low tones and did not hear the
question and answer, so they did not explain what Polly meant by
"dressing up."
The days intervening between the Tuesday and the Friday set down for
the hop passed quickly. Polly and her mother washed and renovated the
dotted swiss dress made for the school-commencement, and to Polly's
delight Anne added a blue sash and hair ribbons.
Anne had a simple flowered-silk gown she proposed wearing. And the city
girls had elaborate dresses--Barbara's very much in the latest mode and
Eleanor's flounced and furbelowed, but modestly high in the neck as
became a girl not yet "out."
Sary had bewailed her fate the day preceding the eventful one. Eleanor
pacified her by presenting her with a net-lace collar to enliven her
rusty black alpaca.
An early supper was planned, as the ride to Bear Forks school would
take more than an hour, and every one wanted to be there for the grand
march. For several hours before supper-time, Barbara locked herself in
the bed-room and began her toilette. She dressed her hair, massaged,
and rouged and penciled her eyebrows, until she quite tired herself out.
Eleanor and Anne rapped again and again for admission, but Barbara was
obdurate about her right of possession. When she finally opened the
door for her room-mates, they stared at her in amused surprise.
"Your hair looks all sizzly, Bob," said Eleanor.
"Oh, Bob, remove some of that carmine from your lips!" advised Anne.
"Why?" demanded Barbara.
"Too much of it, that's all!" giggled Eleanor.
But Anne and Eleanor had their own toilettes to make and paid no
further attention to Barbara. She managed to remove some of the
carmine, and pat down her hair, hot she could not do things as the
French maid generally did them to add to her beauty. Feeling
dissatisfied with her appearance made Barbara irritable, but she
remained in the room criticizing everything the two other girls did or
said. Then just before the horn sounded for supper, a knock came at the
door.
"Come in!" called Anne, buttoning her white suede boots.
"'S onny me. Ah jes' wanta ast you-all ef it is right in city sassiety,
fur a widder of six months' standin' t' go t' a party whar onny old
frien's will be. Thar won't be no sky-larkin' er high-jinks, yo' know!"
Sary's anxious tone expressed her eagerness for a favorable reply to
her query on widowhood. Eleanor looked at Anne to answer, so she took
the initiative.
"Certainly, Sary--come right along and enjoy yourself."
Barbara was shocked. "The help's not going--surely!"
"Humph! Miss Halsey ast me afore she mentioned you-all!" snapped Sary,
quite able to defend herself against Barbara's pride.
"Oh, Bob doesn't mean it that way, Sary," said Eleanor, giving her
sister a backward kick for silence.
"Of course not! Bob means that your mourning might prevent your
attending the dance. But seeing we are all old friends from ranches
round about, it will be like meeting your family," added Anne, the
pacifist.
"Wall, then, Ah'll go," sighed Sary, as if loath to join a merry
throng. "But Ah hez t' have a smitch of somethin' like-ez-how Miss Bob
hez fer her shoulders, cuz my neck's gettin' scrawny now."
Barbara had draped chiffon over her neck and dress, and at Sary's
request, she turned angrily. "The very idea! This chiffon is two
dollars a yard!"
"I've got the very thing you need, Sary. You can wear second mourning
now, I suppose!" exclaimed Eleanor, sending a look at her sister.
She hurried to the closet and took a long flat box from the upper
shelf. As she carried it over to Sary, Barbara stared.
"Eleanor Maynard! _What_ are you giving her?"
"Something I never will need this summer, and Sary can use it very
nicely to furbish up that black dress."
Sary was too excited to wait and open the box in her own room, so she
tore off the paper at once. A lovely rainbow-tinted chiffon scarf lay
revealed, the predominating colors being violet.
"Ah-h-h! Ah'm clean locoed, Miss Nolla! Not a soul'll ever know that
rusty black alpacky is th' same dress Miss Pearson mourned her husband
in fer five years before Ah got it given me!"
"What nonsense! As if that dainty scarf will hide your outlandish dress
and mountainous figure!" came insultingly from Barbara.
But nothing could spoil the joy of possessing such a heavenly wisp of
angel's robe as that scarf seemed to be to Sary. She was deaf to all
else, as she tenderly hugged the box to her ample bosom and backed from
the room.
When all were seated about the table, which was spread in the living
room for that night, Mr. Brewster smiled at Polly in her gala attire.
Anne looked sweet and lovely in her simple dress, but the host could
not quite make out the style the city girls wore. He was not accustomed
to boudoir gowns of filmy lace and thin silk, and he thought they were
a new style of party dress. Had he known _what_ Barbara proposed
wearing, he would have asked her to remain at home.
As Sary passed the bread to Eleanor she leaned over and beamed: "Miss
Nolla, Ah tried that on, an' you-all woulden' know me! Ah'm shore he'll
pick me fer a lanciers! Mebbe that scarf'll give him spine enough to
speak!"
"Sary, I know right well he will!" declared Eleanor, not dreaming the
mischief she wrought in Sary's soul at that.
Sary pranced back to the kitchen, but her flighty thoughts were
swinging corners in the quadrille with Jeb, and the fried potatoes were
gracefully shot into the coal-scuttle as the pan was waved aloft in
imitation of dancers she had envied in days gone by.
"Sary, hurry with the coffee-pot, please!" called Polly.
And Sary grabbed up the stone jug of vinegar from the back of the stove
where she had placed it, and ran in to pour the beverage into cups. The
combined cries of every one at the table failed to bring her to her
senses, so Mrs. Brewster told her to go quickly and dress for the dance.
Then wagon wheels sounded on the gravel road and Jeb yelled: "Air
you-all ready?"
Sary gave a last lingering look in the tiny mirror over her combination
wash-stand, and realized what charms she had when rainbow chiffon
adorned her person. She then snuffed out the tiny lamp-wick and hurried
forth to meet her fate.
Jeb was dressed regardless of all censorship. A great flaming peony in
his coat-lapel reflected its scarlet on his ruddy face. His tie was a
riot of colors and detracted somewhat from his purple socks and tan
shoes. He wore a figured near-silk vest won at an Oak Creek raffle, and
large checked trousers said to be the latest fashion some years back,
when he squandered his money on them. With his face scoured until it
shone, and his hair greased so that it was plastered down neatly, Jeb
felt he could woo and win the prettiest gal in the country-side. He
forgot there was a "female widow" about.
The Brewster party reached the school-house later than was their wont,
and the cloak-room was well-filled with ranchers' wives and daughters
all waiting to pass judgment on the strangers from Pebbly Pit.
Mrs. Brewster and Polly entered first, shaking hands with friends and
acquaintances. Anne followed smiling benignly on all. Barbara came
next, casting disdainful looks at the ordinary women she found present.
Eleanor delighted in the novel experience and was anxious to meet them
all.
Once in the small room, the new-comers began to remove their dust-coats
and wraps. The ranchers' parties then went out to make room. Barbara
turned to Anne and whispered:
"Where can I find the maid?"
"Maid! We haven't one here, you know."
"No maid to help me? Goodness, what shall I do?"
"You're supposed to dress at home; besides, these people do not powder
or rouge, so they need no mirror or maid, you see," explained Eleanor,
taking delight in shocking Barbara.
"Then I suppose I will have to go out without a look at myself. Do I
look all right to you, Anne?"
As she spoke, Barbara dropped her evening cloak from her shoulders and
pivoted for Anne's benefit. Her gown of rose-pink net, trimmed with
elaborate gold embroidery, was extremely decollete, with narrow gold
bands over the shoulders performing the double duty as sleeves and to
hold the lower section of the dress up in place!
Barbara turned slowly and attracted the attention of Mrs. Brewster,
Polly, and a few strangers lagging behind to watch the visitors. Just
then Sary hurried in from the dance-hall. She gasped at the sight
before her and quickly came to the rescue.
"Shet yer eyes--every one! The poor dear! Ah'll cover her up whiles
some one finds her basque!" And Sary caught up Mrs. Halsey's
jet-trimmed cape and wound it quickly about Barbara's bare neck and
shoulders.
"Child, how come yuh t' fergit the basque? Er what hez happened to it?"
cried Sary, sympathetically, while Barbara struggled vainly to wrench
herself free from the ill-smelling wrap that generally hung in Halsey's
kitchen.
"Ah hev it! Polly, git the box Nolla gave me. Ah'll let Miss Bob wear
my scarf!"
This meant supreme sacrifice for Sary, but she willingly offered the
one and only treasure to serve a betrayed friend. Still she was at a
loss to understand where that basque could be!
Finally Barbara squirmed free and Mrs. Brewster managed to say:
"Sary, Bob has on one of her most modern evening gowns. They are made
without tops, you know!"
Sary gasped and suddenly collapsed upon the chair. Her strained
expression, as she took a covert look at the dress, spoke volumes.
"Glory be, Miss Brewster," whispered Sary, hoarsely. "You-all don' mean
it fer trut', do yuh?"
"Yes, Sary, it is a very expensive and stylish robe."
"An' kin you-all let her march brazen-like, like that, in front of the
men!" shrilled Sary, holding both wide hands over her heart.
"I never heard or dreamed there was such ignorance in the world, as I
have found in Colorado!" now flared Barbara, turning and leaving the
cloak-room.
Sary waited but a second, then she cried, "Ah cain't 'low Jeb t' see
sech sights--an' he a good bachelor-man!"
Sary rushed out to spare her prey any shocks, and the other members of
the party gazed at each other doubtfully.
"Oh, well, it's not our funeral, Potty!" said Eleanor.
"Shall we join the dancers?" asked Anne.
"Yes, but I fear Bob will be ostracized," said Mrs. Brewster.
"Serve her right! Anne and I told her not to dress like that, but she
_would_, you know. She wanted to show folks the style," explained
Eleanor, taking silent Polly by the arm and leading her out to the main
hall.
As they left the cloak-room, the girls heard the fiddler shout: "Git
yer pardners fer the Grand March!"
And from that time on to midnight, the three girls had the best fun
ever. But poor Barbara stood near the cloak-room as isolated as the
plague, for the ranchers dared not even look at a gown without a top,
let alone dance with the doubtful thing.