FOREBODINGS.—SHINGLING THE CABIN.
"MOTHER, you'll have to see to those boys," said the dwarf,
querulously. "They wouldn't accomplish anything if I didn't drive them
to it."
"He's fine at bossing," retorted Ferdie, "and that's about all he is
good for. Georgie and I work from morning till night. We don't sit
round directing other folks—do we, Georgie?"
"But Frankie likes that. Wonder if he intends to follow it for a
business," chimed in Georgie.
"Now, there's the roof needs shingling; and the stove must be moved
into the house. The weather is growing cool, and winter 'll be here
before we are half ready for it," continued the Hunchback, unheeding
their taunts.
"There isn't much winter in this climate," affirmed Ferdie, "and we
have plenty of time to prepare for it."
"Where 'd you get your information?" sharply questioned the Hunchback.
"All the settlers say so."
"But they are new comers, like ourselves. Mother, look here." And the
dwarf took down a school atlas, and pointing with his immature finger,
said, "You see we are in the same latitude as Burlington, Vermont,
where the winter is very severe."
"It's warmer west than east," urged Ferdie.
"Well," replied the Hunchback, "you can risk it if you wish, but you'll
be sorry for it when everything freezes up. Mother, hadn't these
youngsters better get ready in season?"
"Youngsters! Wonder what you nickname yourself—oldster?" returned
Ferdie. "One would think, to hear you talk, that you were Methuselah,
and I your youngest great-great-great-grandson, and that Georgie and I
were too lazy to pick our teeth after dinner, while you was a miracle
of industry, by whom the whole labor of the country is performed."
"Hush, Ferdinand," gently interposed the mother. "Frankie is worrying
lest we shall not be comfortable. He is not fitted for hard work. And
I agree with him that it is wiser to be early ready for winter than to
trust to having a mild season. And as there's only you two to depend
upon, it is the more necessary to take time by the forelock, as the old
saying is."
"I'd like to see the shingles, before I'm required to nail them on,"
said Georgie.
"We shall have to buy them," answered the dwarf.
"How far is it to the lumber-dealer's?" asked Georgie, donning his cap
with a comical grimace, and starting for the door.
"A Mr. Gregory, near L—, has them. He makes them by hand, and, as it is
a slow process, it will be necessary to go over and engage them ahead.
If you and Ferdie will put the horses in the wagon, I'll ride there
with you."
In front of a wretched loggery, open to wind and rain, sat the settler,
a stump of a black pipe in his mouth, leisurely manufacturing shingles.
An oak tree, straight-grained as can be had, is selected, cut down, and
with "cross-cut" sawed into segments shingle length. The huge blocks
are then split into smaller ones, and these in turn into thin parts,
with a heavy steel instrument cleaver-shaped. This last operation is
termed "riving out."
The dwarf inquired the price of the rough oaken shingles, and when he
could have some.
"When mought you be wantin' on 'em?" inquired the man.
"Soon as possible," answered the dwarf.
"Isn't your ruff kivered?" asked the manufacturer.
"Only boarded," said the Hunchback.
"No pertick'ler hurry, then, youngster, if it's boarded, as you say."
"We want them in two weeks, without fail," returned the dwarf.
"Well, jist ride over. Perhaps I ken 'comadate you to enough to begin
on."
"Why don't you tighten and shingle your own house?" asked Georgie,
gazing at the leaky structure.
"No need on't sich weather as this."
"But how do you manage when it storms?"
"Couldn't 'tend to it when it rains, no way you ken fix it."
So the easy frontiersman did not repair his shanty in pleasant weather,
because then it was not necessary, and in foul, he preferred not to
work in the wet.
"What do you use in your cabin—fireplace or stove?" he asked.
"Stove," promptly answered Georgie.
"Mebbe you don't want to trade for some funnel? Got some to spare."
"Old woman!" he bawled, entering the loggery and climbing into the
partly-floored attic. "Here, take this as I pass it."
The wife extended her arms as directed, and a shower of ashes and soot
saluted her head.
"Wall, if that wan't a miss-go!" exclaimed the husband. "Brush it off,
Roxanna!"
Georgie giggled outright as she rubbed her blackened face with her wet,
greasy apron.
"My wife don't look like a beauty just now," remarked her lord, "but
I've seen the time when she'd dance the cow-tillion with the best on
'em."
"What are these four lengths worth?" inquired the dwarf.
"They might be wuth more, and they might be wuth less. Give us fifty
cents, and we'll consider it a bargain."
"Put them in the wagon, Georgie," said the Hunchback, handing the man
the money.
"An' now, youngster, seein' you're flush, 'spose you take a turn round
the cabin, an' see if there's anything there wuth dickerin' for."
The dwarf smiled; for piled against the building were a number of
bundles of shingles.
"Them's engaged, but the man hasn't come for 'em accordin' to
agreement. Told him he'd have to be on hand to the minute. They are
yours if you've got the cash; if not, the next person that has gits
'em, whomsomedever he be."
"I'll take them," replied the Hunchback.
And the seller, tossing them on his brawny shoulders, piled them in the
wagon, and the lads left.
"But what is the matter?" suddenly asked Georgie. "You look dreadful
sick."
"Not much," answered the dwarf, his contracted brow, pallid cheeks, and
feeble utterance refuting his words.
"Yes, there is, too!"
"Please stop the team, and let me rest a moment," said the Hunchback;
"the motion hurts so."
Georgie checked the horses, and, alarmed, watched Frankie, who,
moaning, curled himself down on the leathern cushion.
"Georgie," said he at last, fixing his deep, sad gaze on his brother's
frightened face, and articulating with difficulty, "promise me you
won't tell mother of this."
"Why, she ought to know if you're sick, so that she may get you well."
"No, Georgie; it would worry her. And you know how she grieves now. It
isn't anything she can help."
"But where do you feel badly?"
"You will not mention it to her?"
"No," was the hesitating answer.
"Nor to Ferdie or aunt Esther?"
"No."
"It's all up and down my back. It seems, sometimes, as if I should
screech right out, every bone in my spine is so hot and raw. And here,"
placing his brother's hand against the "false" or "short" ribs, "it
hurts me there when I breathe. My stomach, too, is awful weak."
"You ought not to come over here, to-day," said Georgie, his eyes
blinded by tears.
"Yes, I had, Georgie. Perhaps I shan't live long, and the house must be
made comfortable for mother—she isn't used to roughing it. And now you
and Ferdie will shingle it right away—won't you? I'd help, but I can't.
I'm only trying to keep along till father comes."
"Father," cried Georgie; "do you expect to see him again?"
"Yes," returned the dwarf, "I 'feel' that I shall some time—perhaps,
though, it will be when I die," he softly added.
"Frankie," cried Georgie, dropping the rein and clasping him around the
neck, "'don't' talk so! I can't have you die, you're so good, and I
love you so dearly!" And the impulsive boy sobbed aloud.
"I am better now," said the dwarf; and a sadly-satisfied light played
over his features. "But look, the lines are dragging under the horses'
heels. Pick them up very carefully, Georgie, as not to set the span
running.
"Wait! I'll get them," he added, as he saw that Georgie's impetuosity
was disturbing the animals.
And leaning cautiously over the whipple-trees with the whipstock, he
gently raised the rein and deposited it in Georgie's hand, the latter
saying, enthusiastically,—
"You can do anything, Frankie!"
"It's because I stop to think," answered the dwarf.
The day following being fair, Ferdie and Georgie commenced work on the
roof.
Georgie, under the stimulus of his recent conversation with Frankie,
was foremost in the enterprise, and had a half row of shingles nailed
next to the ridge-pole, when Ferdie shouted,—
"What you doing there, chick? You've got the cart before the horse. In
shingling, they always lay the lower tier first, and lap the next upon
it, and so on till the top is reached."
"That's too bad!" ejaculated the disappointed young house-carpenter,
scrambling to the ground.
Ferdie, producing a ball of cord and a piece of chalk, telling Georgie
to hold an end of the twine; rubbed the chalk back and forth upon it.
Then, tacking a nail to one end of the roof near the edge, he tied the
twine to the nail, and stationing Georgie at the opposite side with
his end of the line the same number of inches from the edge, with his
finger and thumb, he quickly pulled upon the line and let it go again.
And Georgie saw that it left a perfectly straight white mark all the
way across.
"We must lay the shingles by this mark," explained Ferdie, "that we may
put them on evenly."
"How fast our carpenters get along!" remarked the mother, stepping out
to view their progress. "Don't fall, Georgie."
"No danger of that," he proudly replied.
And the hammers of the lads vied with each other, sinking the nails
into the tough wood.
Meanwhile, the dwarf had managed to cut a circular hole in a square
piece of sheet iron, and directing Ferdie where to make a similar
aperture in the roof-board, the iron collar was fastened over it, to be
subsequently covered by the shingles.
"That will prevent the stove-pipe from getting in contact with the
wood, and setting the cabin on fire," said the dwarf.
A fireboard also having been constructed, with which to close the
fireplace, and thus prevent the air from drawing down the wide-mouthed
chimney into the room, Ferdie and Georgie, with the assistance of the
women, moved the Great Western stove into the dwelling, and the funnel
Frankie bought was fitted together, and run up through the roof.
"Now," said the dwarf, "the fire will also warm the attic next winter."
But the Hunchback, Georgie saw, constantly suffered. And the latter
often checked his boyish mirth, or ceased his blithe whistling, to
marvel at and grieve over his drooping, deformed, uncomplaining brother.