“THE MOUNTAINS WITH SNOWY FOREHEADS”
It was something of a surprise the next morning to Danny’s companions,
to see a little maid, clothed and in her right mind, as Janet expressed
it, come shyly into the dining-room,—a little maid who bore a very
strong resemblance to the brown-eyed, curly-haired, whimpering little
lad of the day before. The black eyes of the Italian boy, Tony, widened,
and then, with a shy gleam of humor in their liquid depths, he nodded at
the little girl, crying under his breath, “Oh, Boy!” But the little maid
proved herself competent to manage the situation to her satisfaction, as
she quickly made a face at him, for which she was properly rebuked by
Nathalie, who, however, was on the verge of a laugh, while a ripple of
amusement gleamed in her mother’s eyes.
Jean, the Belgian refugee, stared with some perplexity at the small
girl, and did not comprehend the curious situation until the children
had left the breakfast-table, when Nathalie made it plain to him.
The girl found that the morning hours were well-occupied, as she started
right in to put her boys through their paces, as she called her
drilling, so as to prepare them not only for a very happy, but a useful,
summer’s stay. She had noticed, during the morning meal, that the
children, with ready sympathy for the maimed boy, had been rather
officious in trying to help him, and that his thin, sickly face had
flushed with embarrassment and over-sensitiveness at the fact that to
them he was an object of pity.
Instantly divining how she would have felt under like circumstances,
Nathalie managed to get Danny and Tony together, when Mrs. Page, whose
mother-heart had gone out to the boy, had taken him down to the barn to
show him where he could keep his dog, and Janet had taken possession of
the little maid.
In a few words she told them the tragic story of the Belgian, and, after
gaining their interest, made it clear to them how they themselves would
have felt if they had been different from their mates, and warned them
about being too open in their method of helping him. She suggested that
little acts of subtle kindness would be more appreciated, as they would
not offend his sensitiveness.
Danny was now installed, with a big apron tied around his waist, in
front of the kitchen sink, taking his first lesson in Nathalie’s method
of washing dishes, with Tony, the second helper, as the dish-dryer.
Divining that it would not only be better for Jean, the refugee, to have
employment so as to fill his mind with something besides his sad
experiences, and realizing that he would naturally want to do as the
other children, Nathalie made him her right-hand man, as she called it,
and showed him how he could assist her in a number of ways. In a few
moments he was laboriously carrying out, with one hand, the food to
Nathalie, who quickly placed it in the ice-box, or closet, while little
Sheila removed the soiled dishes to the kitchen, happy at being on the
job, as Danny said.
From dish-washing, preparing the vegetables for dinner, sweeping the
kitchen and shed, and dusting the dining-room, it was bed-making. Jean
was made captain of the Working Squad, eager to help by doing what he
could with his one hand, while seeing that the boys did their work as
Nathalie had instructed them.
Fortunately for Nathalie, she was a fair French scholar, and as the
Belgian lad had lived in one of the Walloon provinces, where French is
generally spoken, she had no difficulty in conversing with him. He could
speak a little English, but in a queer, hesitating way that made him shy
over it.
When the morning duties were finished, and they were not done with a
magician’s wand by any means, but with the exercise of great patience on
the part of their young instructor, and a good deal of drilling on the
children’s part, they all hurried out into the sunshine. Here they raced
about, enjoying the fresh air, the green trees and the flowers, and the
beautiful mountain views, and then they made the acquaintance of Sam,
who not only introduced them to the fascinations of the barn,—as the
cows, pigs, and chickens, the soft cooing doves who flittered over the
barn-roof,—but to the one dray-horse. This animal proved a source of
unfeigned joy to the boys, as Sam taught them how to harness it, and
then allowed each one to ride it bareback, even Jean, whose pale face
glowed with a strange joy, as he held the reins with his one hand, and
rode up and down on the road in front of the house.
From the barn there was an inspection of the farm, going down a green
slope to watch the sheep as they quietly browsed, and then on to the
orchard, where they had their fill of fruit, while in the vegetable
garden many hands proffered willing assistance to Nathalie, as she
gathered what was needed to replenish the vegetable larder. From here
they all trooped down to pay a visit to the farmerette, whereupon Janet
set them all to weeding. Strange to say, Jean pulled up the greatest
number, to Nathalie’s surprise, who, by this time, began to understand
that real industry, even if one-handed, can accomplish a good deal.
Finally Nathalie lined her charges up under the trees on the lawn at
attention, and undertook to teach them the military salute, but before
she was through she was somewhat puzzled as to whether she or the boys
was the instructor. After they had saluted the flag, which Sam had run
up on the top of the barn for that very purpose, and which was to be the
boys’ duty in the future, they had a little soldier’s drill.
A few words were then read, very softly, by Nathalie from the Bible. She
had concluded that this would be a good way to give them a bit of
religious instruction, especially for a beginning. She had begun the
reading by getting them interested in the book, on whose fly-leaf was
written the name, Philip Renwick, by telling them how she had found it
in a little room on the upper floor of the house. She then told them
about this boy who had left his mother to travel abroad, how he had
married, and had then come home, only to leave his mother and return to
Europe, never to be seen by her again. They were much interested in the
story, especially when she showed them the picture of the young man in
the library, and from that time onward the little Bible seemed to
possess a peculiar interest to them, and thus led them to become more
interested in the every-day Scripture lesson.
After the “Star-Spangled Banner” and several patriotic songs had been
sung, and the “Marseillaise” had been given with much spirit by the
boys, Janet, who had just come up from her farm, appeared, and
patriotically kept time with her rake. She became so interested in the
little singers that she volunteered, to Nathalie’s delight, to drill
them in the national anthems of the Allies.
Whereupon Jean, with a new eagerness in his bewildered eyes, up with his
hand, and made Nathalie understand that he could sing, too. Nathalie
smilingly encouraged him, and in a few moments the lad’s thin, quavering
voice, that grew deeper as he caught the spirit of the words, gave them
Belgium’s song of cheer. This inspired Tony, and he became the soloist,
and sang Italy’s national anthem.
There was a “do-as-you-please time” after dinner down on the lawn for an
hour or so, and then the boys were mustered in the bathroom and
initiated as to how to manipulate a tooth-brush, in a tooth-cleaning
drill, Nathalie having supplied herself with three new brushes in
anticipation of this procedure. Sheila, who was not one of the
drillers,—only three brushes having been provided,—looked with envious
eyes upon this performance, and, when Danny had finished, in a
plaintively aggrieved voice complained to their young teacher that he
would not let her have his brush so that she could clean her teeth, too.
Explanations were now in order. Nathalie smiling amusedly at the idea of
loaning a tooth-brush, and then they were all made as presentable as
possible, considering their ragged clothes, which had begun to prey upon
Mrs. Page’s mind, as well as Nathalie’s. But the clothes part was
something that had not presented itself to the girl when she had planned
the boys’ coming, and she was at a loss to remedy the trouble.
Certainly something must be done to do away with Tony’s old velveteen
embroidered vest, his greatest treasure, and Jean’s soiled white shirt,
which seemed to be the only one he possessed. Danny’s clothes, although
they had been queerly darned and glaringly patched, and were miles too
small for him, _were clean_, and he did have a change of underclothing,
to Nathalie’s relief.
However, the general shabbiness of the boys’ apparel had not affected
their merry spirits, the girl decided, as she sat knitting on the
veranda, and heard the happy, joyous voices that floated up from the
lawn, as they played leap-frog, ran races, and turned handsprings. Even
Jean, caught by the contagion of the moment, turned a somersault, to her
breathless amazement.
She was beginning to realize what Mrs. Van Vorst meant when she spoke of
what the glorious wonders of these mountains would mean to the half-fed,
sickly little waifs of humanity from the East Side of New York. Yes, it
meant a new world, with no more squalid, stifling two-by-two rooms, or
damp, moldy cellars. No more nauseating smells, odors from the backyard
garbage-can, the rattlety-bang of heavy trucks and milk-wagons, or the
jarring creak of the Elevated. For, as Sheila expressed it, they were in
a “big green world, with high blue walls, with flower stars a-peepin’ at
’em from the grass, and little teeny birds a-singin’ and rockin’ their
babies to sleep in tall trees, that nodded to ’em with a swishy
whisper.”
Suddenly the serenity of Nathalie’s cogitations received a shock, as a
horrible swear-word came, no, not floating, but yelling, its way across
the green. The girl jumped up and rushed down under the trees, to see
Tony, with his soft, appealing ways, and Danny, with the blue eyes that
she had already begun to trust for the frankness of their gaze, rolling
on the lawn, locked in a vice-like grip, as they pommeled and pounded
each other in a way that made Nathalie gasp.
Sheila, with squeals of delighted glee, was circling about the
combatants, piping shrilly. “Give ’im a plug in the snoot, Danny! Pound
’im in the mug!” to the accompaniment of big, forceful oaths that rolled
from the mouths of the fighting boys. As the little maid sighted
Nathalie, she ejaculated, with a broad grin, “Ain’t them kids fierce!”
which caused poor Nathalie to gasp again.
“Oh, boys, you mustn’t fight!” the agonized girl cried, as she reached
down and tried to separate the young pugilists, with her limbs all of a
tremble. But her efforts were useless, and, regardless of her screams
and expostulations, the punching and scratching continued, punctuated by
defiant yells, and such horrifying language that the girl shivered.
As she stared as if fascinated by this new and revolting experience, she
saw a little trickle of blood oozing down Danny’s face, for Tony, who
was the underdog, was an expert at nail-digging. It was a _fearsome_
sight, and Nathalie, appalled by the thought that he might dig out an
eye or so in his blinded wrath, in frenzied horror screamed, “Oh, Tony,
you’re killing Danny!” But the only result of her cry was, “Yer bet yer
life he ain’t!” and the hair continued to fly, as Danny yelled
triumphantly, “Gee! I knew I could lick yer wid one hand!” and the gory
battle continued.
Then, in sheer desperation, hopelessly wringing her hands, she started
in the direction of the house to call her mother. Suddenly she stopped.
Oh, no; her mother would send them away, and then—O dear! Ah, she knew
what she would do. Terror speeded her feet, and two minutes later she
reappeared on the lawn, and with one swing of her arm there came a
terrific “Clang! Clang!” as the girl, with big excited eyes, thrust the
still clanging bell between the faces of the boys.
The effect was magical, for the lads, with screams of terror, unlocked
their arms, hands, and legs, and rolled apart, while gazing with dilated
eyes, as if they had heard the crack of doom, at the bell that Nathalie
had thrust into their faces.
A few moments later, almost unclothed, dust-begrimed, blood-besmeared,
and both sniffling from nerve-shock, but still breathing out dire
vengeance one upon the other, Nathalie led her two charges up-stairs and
thrust one into the bathroom and the other into a dark closet. Jan, at
this moment, appeared in the hall, and the girl excitedly dragged her
into her bedroom, and, in a hushed, nervous whisper, made known the
proceedings of the last few moments.
But Jan, who at home was a district nurse, and had witnessed many slum
fights, burst into a peal of laughter. And then, with her face still red
with mirth and laughter, demanded, “Well, young lady, what else did you
expect if you will take ragamuffins and street Arabs to your bosom?”
Nevertheless Janet’s sympathies were aroused, for Nathalie, if not for
the boys, and in a few moments the two girls were industriously making
the boys presentable once more.
And then Nathalie led the culprits into a chamber apart, and began to
upbraid them, trying to impress their young minds with the enormity of
the wrong-doing of which they had been guilty.
But the spirit of the cave-dweller was not yet subdued, and,
notwithstanding the girl’s persuasiveness, and her pleading attitude in
her endeavor to make them see the error of their way, they kept up a
wrangling duet of recriminations, each one accusing the other of
punching him first, while stubbornly crying, “Now, ye didn’t lick me.”
Presently Nathalie, under the strain of overwrought nerves, and the
sudden realization of the unforeseen responsibility of her position,
burst into tears. Lo, to her amazement, her tears acted like oil on
troubled waters, for the next instant a grimy hand tugged at her sleeve,
as Danny, with troubled eyes, in a sudden wave of contrition, cried:
“Oh, Miss Natty, don’t take on like that. Sure and I’m never goin’ to
fight no more.”
Meanwhile Tony’s black eyes, in dumb entreaty, grew bigger and bigger,
until he, too, in sudden repentance, began to stroke her hand
caressingly as his soft, musical voice pleaded, “Please Mees Natta,
Tonee, he lova you—he fighta no more.”
Peace was making its way into each heart, when the purr of an automobile
was heard, and as Nathalie hurried to the window, she saw Mr. Banker
whirling under the porte-cochère. As the boys, paroled on their honor, a
little later hung around the car, discussing its many merits, they were
duly presented to the newcomer. That gentleman evidently liked small
boys, for he immediately made arrangements to call for them some day,
and take them to Littleton for an all-day good time.
The following afternoon Nathalie, holding Sheila by the hand, with Jean
by her side, and the two boys in front of her, started to show them the
mountains. At the post-office at Sugar Hill village Jean, who had been
delegated to act as postman the coming week, was duly initiated into the
business of opening the mail-box, an office he accepted with a sudden
lighting of his dazed eyes, which Nathalie began to fancy were already
losing some of their fear-haunted expression.
A short visit was paid to the Sweet-Pea ladies, where they were treated
to some maple sugar, Mona very earnest in her endeavors to show sympathy
for the little refugee, and her admiration for Sheila. As they hurried
away, a bunch of sweet peas was seen on each little breast, pinned there
by that gentle lady.
A walk on the long, curving board-walk up the hill, with a rest on one
of the benches under the maples, to Hotel Look-off, now followed. The
three boys were anxious to start that very minute to climb Iron
Mountain, but were soon persuaded that it was too warm a day for a
mountain hike. From the long veranda of the hotel they were lured to
admiration of the hilly, wide-spreading green sward, and the magnificent
views of the mountains, as they rose and fell, receded and advanced,
with their jutting pinnacles of rock, gloomed with the green of mountain
forest.
After slacking their thirst at the little spring-house in the grove,
they sauntered down the board-walk to the Sunset Hill House, and as they
interestedly watched the golfers in their bright-colored coats on the
velvety green links, Danny proudly informed them that he knew how to
caddy. But their enthusiasm grew tense when they stood on the little
observation tower in front of the hotel, and Nathalie pointed out the
Presidential Range, with Mount Washington towering six thousand feet up
among the clouds.
She then showed them the Franconia Range, explaining that the great
mountains were divided into clefts, or notches, from which flowed four
long rivers and many smaller ones, several of them being named after the
Indians, who, in the early times, lived on the mountain passes.
With the help of the chart they soon learned that Lafayette was the
highest peak of this smaller range, and that Pemigewasset, seemingly the
nearest peak to the hotel, had been named after a great Indian
chieftain. The adjoining peaks, as the Kinsman and the Three Graces,
proved of interest; also Cannon, or Profile Mountain, when the young
girl explained that it not only had a stone, shaped like a cannon, on
its top, but that from one of its sides a great stone face was to be
seen.
Nathalie now told her young listeners how the mountains were first seen,
over four hundred and fifty years ago, a cluster of snowy peaks, by John
Cabot, from the deck of his ship when sailing along the New England
coast. They were called Waumbekket-meyna, the White Hills, and sometimes
“The mountains with the snowy foreheads,” by the Indians.
The first white man to ascend these heights, she related, was an
Irishman named Field, who, two hundred years after they had been seen by
Cabot, with a few white companions, climbed to the topmost crag of the
highest peak. “Field found a number of shiny crystals which he thought
were costly gems,” laughed the girl merrily, “but, alas, they proved to
be only beautiful white stones, but, on account of this occurrence, the
mountains came to be called Crystal Hills.
“The Indian guides who had accompanied Field part way up the mountains,”
continued Nathalie, “refused to go any farther, for fear that the Great
Spirit, who they believed lived in a magnificent palace on the highest
peak, would destroy them if they ventured too near him. They were so
surprised to see Field return in safety a few hours later that they
decided he was a god, for during his absence a great storm had arisen,
which they believed had been sent by the Indian Manitou to kill him. The
redmen not only believed that the Great Spirit sent forth the frost and
snow, as well as the rain and fire,—the lightning—but declared that
the thunder was his voice.”
The Indian legend of Pawan was eagerly listened to, as Nathalie told how
the Indians asserted that when the earth was covered with water and
every one was drowned, he and his wife, carrying a hare, had ascended to
the highest peak. When the waters began to abate, Pawan sent forth the
hare, and when it did not return he and his wife descended to the earth
and dwelt there in safety, for the waters had dried up from off the
land. From this man, the Indians declared, every one on the earth had
descended.
During the recital of these stories, Sheila’s red-brown eyes darkened to
black, and every mountain peak assumed a weird and wonderful personality
to her imaginative mind, fed, as it had been, by stories of fairies,
pixies, and gnomes, as told to her by Danny, when playing the little
mother.
But the tourists now found that their appetites had been whetted by the
keen mountain air, and gladly started on their homeward way to enjoy the
supper that awaited them. After tea they gathered on the veranda, and
Tony entertained them by playing on his violin. Nathalie soon discovered
that he not only played with considerable skill, but that Danny could
whistle like a bird, while Jean and Sheila could pipe forth snatches of
song in clear, childish trebles.
The boys were rendered exuberantly happy a few days later at the
unexpected arrival of Mr. Banker, who had come to give them a day’s
outing at Littleton. Morning chores, military tactics, and other
occupations were quickly forgotten, as Nathalie and her mother made them
tidy for the trip, Danny, by the way, having kindly washed Jean’s one
shirt the day before,—a housewifely occupation that he had become
proficient in, from sheer necessity,—and Nathalie had ironed it.
It was long past tea-time when the boys returned from their pleasure
jaunt, and told in high good spirits of the “bully” time they had had,
what they had seen at the movies, and many other sights. Nathalie’s joy
almost equaled the boys’ when they descended from the car, and she saw
three smartly equipped lads, each one in a khaki suit, with brown shoes,
a brimmed hat, a knapsack, and, the most prized possession of all, a
gun! The girl’s eyes filled with tears, and she had rather a tremulous
time of it as she thanked Mr. Banker for his kindness, and especially
for those _much-needed clothes_.
Nathalie, with her brown-suited boys,—Tony with his violin and his
embroidered vest, as he had soon discarded his khaki suit, Jean with his
empty sleeve, and yellow-brown terrier,—and Sheila, in a pink
sunbonnet, soon became familiar objects on the mountain roads. They were
always greeted with pleasant smiles and nods from the passing tourists,
Jean being regarded with more than the usual curiosity, as his story had
been rumored about.
Many of them would stop and give him money, until he had so many silver
coins that Nathalie had to make him a bag to keep them in, as he had
declared that he was going to save them to take him back to France, so
he could find his father. It was not long before they had not only
become hardy mountaineers, but familiar with all the near-by walks in
and around Franconia and Sugar Hill. Jean, too, had begun to show a
decided improvement, not only having gained flesh and color, but having
a brighter and more cheerful expression in his eyes.
And so the sunny days passed, cementing the bond between Nathalie and
her charges, and each one learning something that would be of help in
the days to come. And then, one day, Nathalie had an inspiration!