BEN OUTWITTED, AND UNCLE ISAAC ASTONISHED.
Sally and Ben now began to make preparations for housekeeping. She had
a little money, earned by her labor, and she persuaded Ben to go in a
schooner that was bound to Salem, and make some purchases for her. No
sooner was Ben out of sight, than Sally started for Uncle Isaac’s. She
found him alone in the barn.
“Uncle Isaac,” said she, “will you do something for me?”
“Anything in reason, Sally.”
“Could you get me over to Elm Island, and not any soul know it?”
“I suppose I might.”
“Well, will you?”
“But what do you want to go there for?”
“I’ll tell you. I’m determined to live there, and be contented and
happy, and make my husband happy; but I know it will be very different
from anything that I have ever seen, or can imagine.”
“You’ll find it a rough place, Sally.”
“I’m afraid that when I go on with Ben I might be kind of surprised,
and by looks, if nothing else, show it, and hurt Ben’s feelings.”
“That you might burst out crying?”
“Yes.”
“Well, you go down to the point, and hide in the bushes till I come.”
In a short time Uncle Isaac came. Sally got in, and lay down in the
bottom of the boat; he covered her over with spruce boughs, and pulled
for the island. It was a bright, sunshiny morning. He rowed right into
the mouth of the brook, and on to the beach. As Sally felt the boat
touch the bottom, she flung off the covering, and, rising up, looked
around her.
“What a beautiful spot!” was her involuntary exclamation, as she gazed,
enraptured, upon the dense foliage of the maple and birch, rich with
all the tints of autumn, and listened to the ripple of the brook that
fell over the rocks before her. Then, clapping her hands, she burst
into a clear, ringing laugh, as her eye rested upon the house--her
future home. Uncle Isaac was confounded. At first he thought it was
an hysterical affection, and concealed grief and disappointment; but,
as he looked into her eyes, he saw that it was heartfelt. He was
in the position of a sailor, who, having braced his yards to meet a
squall, is caught aback by the wind coming in an opposite direction.
All the way to the island he had been preparing himself for the task of
consolation, and arranging his arguments for that purpose,--never for a
moment doubting but Sally, with all her resolution, would at first be
somewhat disheartened.
“Uncle Isaac,” cried Sally, “did that house grow there? See, the bark
is on it. What on earth is the chimney made of?”
Then she burst out again into peals of laughter, so joyous that Uncle
Isaac joined with her, and laughed till his sides ached.
“Why, Uncle Isaac, Ben told me it was a most desolate-looking place,
all woods and rocks; that the house was right on the shore, and that
in great storms the sea roared awfully, and the spray would fly on to
the windows. He never said a word about the brook. I do love brooks so
much! I mean to have my wash-tub, in summer, right under that yellow
birch; you see if I don’t. Such a nice place to spread out linen thread
and cloth to bleach; and things look so much whiter when they are
spread on the grass! Why, here is a piece of grass almost large enough
for a field; such a sunny, sheltered spot, too! the woods and the hill
break off every bit of wind. What a nice place, under that ledge, to
plant early potatoes, peas, and beans, and have currant bushes! But I’m
dying to see the house; do let us go in; what a nice doorstep this is!”
As they opened the door and went in, Uncle Isaac watched Sally’s face
in vain to detect any trace of disappointment or sorrow.
She is fire-proof, just like her grandmother, thought he.
“I supposed log houses were stuffed between the logs with clay and
moss; mother said so; but I couldn’t put the point of my scissors
between these logs.”
“So they were,” said he; “but this is an improved one. Ben means, when
he is able, to make this room into two, and have a fireplace in each;
and a couple of nice rooms they will make.”
“I am glad he didn’t do any more. Now, I want to see the kitchen; I
care the most about that. This is a splendid one; what nice dressers
and drawers! but where is the oven? Why, it’s stone; ain’t it a beauty;
how smooth it is!” said she, putting in her head and shoulders, and
feeling all around it with her hands. “I don’t see how folks can make
such nice things of stone. I wish we had a candle.”
She was, if possible, more delighted with the chamber than anything
else.
“How high it is!” she said; “what a capital place this would be to spin
and weave in! Well, now I’ve seen the whole.”
“No, you haven’t;” and here he opened the door in the side of the
chimney, and let her look in.
“Why, what in the world is this for?”
“This is a smoke-house; you see it’s on one side of the chimney, so
that there won’t be heat enough go in there to melt the hams or fish.
All you have to do, when you want to smoke anything, is to hang it up
on these lug-poles, and the common fire you have every day will smoke
it. It’ll be a nice place for Ben, when he has an ox-yoke, wooden bowl,
or shovel to season or toughen. Now I want you to see the cellar.”
He pulled from his pocket a horn filled with tinder, and striking a
spark into it with a flint and steel, kindled a piece of pitch-wood,
and they went down.
“O, my! if here isn’t an arch; what a nice place that will be to keep
my milk, when I get it.”
“Now we’ve got a light, let’s look into the oven.”
“I know that oven will bake well,” said Sally; “it looks as though it
would. Now, I think this is a real nice place, and that Ben has made a
good trade; and, if we have our health, we can pay for it well enough.
Only think how much we’ve saved by living in this house, which is good
enough for young folks just beginning, and better than many have. Why,
it ain’t a month since the trees were growing, and now it’s all done.
Didn’t he make a good trade, Uncle Isaac?”
“He made a better one when he got you, you little humming-bird,” said
Uncle Isaac, who was brim full, and could no longer restrain himself;
patting her on the head, “you would suck honey out of a rock.”
“I’m much obliged to you, you good old man. I’ll tell you what we’ll do
(that is, when we are able); you shall come over here with Aunt Hannah,
and bring all your tools, and we’ll part off the front rooms, and have
a front entry, ceil up the kitchen, have Uncle Sam to build fireplaces
in the front rooms, and Joe Griffin to make fun for us. I’ll make you
some of those three-cornered biscuit and custard puddings you like so
well. In the evenings we’ll have a roaring fire; you can tell stories,
and we will sit and listen, and knit. Ben says this is the greatest
place for gunning that ever was; and you can bring on your float and
gun, and you and Uncle Sam can gun to your heart’s content. Ain’t I
building castles in the air?” cried Sally, with another laugh, that
made the house ring; “but we must go off, or we shall be caught.”
A little breeze had sprung up, and Uncle Isaac putting up a bush for a
sail, they landed on the other side without detection.
He said he never wanted to tell anything so much in his life, as he
did to tell Ben how much Sally was delighted with the island; but he
resolutely kept it to himself.
As it would be difficult getting off in the winter, Ben carried on
provisions, hay for a cow, and for oxen that he might get occasionally.
He put the hay in a stack out of doors. He bought the hay of Joe
Griffin’s father, and Joe was to deliver it on the island. Being
disappointed in respect to the man who was engaged to help him, he took
old Uncle Sam Yelf, as better than nobody. There was a long easterly
swell; the scow rolled a good deal, and, the hay hanging over the side
and getting wet, she began to fill. At some distance from them Sydney
Chase and Sam Hadlock were fishing. “Shall I holler, Mr. Griffin?”
said Yelf, who was terribly frightened, and had a tremendous voice.
“Yes.”
“What shall I holler?”
“Holler fire.”
“Fire! fire! fire!” screamed Yelf.
As their neighbors rowed up, they could not help laughing to see two
men up to their waists in water, and one of them crying fire.
“I thought,” said the old man, “I’d holler what I could holler the
loudest.”