JACK-OF-ALL-TRADES.
Sleighing was good that year, till the middle of March. Before the
season was past, Captain Argent paid a flying visit on his way to the
hunting grounds, as usual, and on his return found something so pleasant
in the household at Cedar Creek, that he remained many days.
They were all old acquaintances, to be sure, and had many subjects of
interest in common. Mr. Wynn the elder, who, perhaps, was imbued with a
little of the true Briton's reverence for aristocracy, was pleased to
entertain his former neighbour, Lord Scutcheon's son, especially when
that young officer himself was endowed with such a frank, genial bearing
as rendered him almost a universal favourite.
Had there ever been more than mere pleasant acquaintanceship between
him and Miss Wynn? Rightly or wrongly, Sam Holt fancied it the case. He
heard many allusions to former times and incidents, not knowing that
as children they had been playmates. The gallant captain's present
admiration was pretty plain; and the young lady was amused by it after
the manner of her sex. Being very downright himself, Mr. Holt had no
idea how much admiration is required to fill the measure of a proposal
of marriage in a red-coat's resolve, or how much harmless coquetry lies
dormant in the sweetest woman.
The precipitate gentleman leaped to sundry conclusions, gathered himself
and his fur robes into his cutter, and left on the third day of Captain
Argent's visit. In her secret heart, I imagine that Linda knew why.
But an engrossing affair to her at this period was the concealment from
their visitor of the decidedly active part she took in household duties.
Innocent Captain Argent was unaware that the faultless hot bread at
breakfast was wrought by her hands; that the omelets and ragouts at
dinner owned her as cook; that the neatness of the little parlour was
attributable to her as its sole housemaid. The mighty maiden called
Liberia had enough to do in other departments, outdoor as well as
indoor, besides being rather a ponderous person for a limited space.
And so, when Captain Argent one morning pushed open the parlour door
long before he ought to have left his apartment, he beheld a figure with
short petticoats, wrapt in a grey blouse, and having a hood of the same
closely covering her hair, dusting away at the chairs and tables and
shelves, with right goodwill.
'Now, Georgie, you know that you can't sit here till I have quite
finished,' said the figure, without turning its head. 'Like a good boy,
ask Libby to come and build up the fire: ask gently, remember, or she'll
not mind you.'
The noiseless manner of closing the door caused her first to doubt the
identity of the person spoken to, and a very vivid crimson dyed her
cheeks, when, Liberia coming in, her blacksmith arms laden with logs,
she threw them down with resounding clatter, and said, 'Wal, ef that
ain't the nicest, soft speakin'est gentleman I ever see! He asked me as
perlite for the wood, as he couldn't be perliter ef I war Queen Victory
herself.'
'How fortunate that I didn't turn round my head!' thought Linda, her
first confusion over; 'for of all horridly unbecoming things, showing no
hair about one's face is the worst.'
Whence it will be seen that Miss Wynn was not exempt from female vanity.
To the cat thus let out of the bag, Captain Argent made no further
allusion than was involved in a sudden fondness for the nursery tale of
Cinderella. Every subject of conversation introduced for the morning
was tinged by that fairy legend, which tinged Linda's countenance also,
rose-colour. Mr. Wynn the elder was slightly mystified; for the topics
of promotion by purchase in the army, and the emigration of half-pay
officers, seemed to have no leading reference to the above world-famed
story.
The dear old gentleman! he did the honours of his small wooden cottage
at Cedar Creek as finely as if it had been his own ancestral mansion of
Dunore. Their delf cups might have been Dresden, the black ware teapot
solid silver, the coarse table-cloth damask--for the very air which he
spread around the breakfast arrangements. One might have fancied that he
infused an orange-pekoe flavour into the rough muddy congou for which
Bunting exacted the highest price. He did not know that the coffee,
which he strongly recommended to his guest, was of native Canadian
growth, being to all intents and purposes dandelion roots; for you see
they were obliged to conceal many of their contrivances from this grand
old father. I doubt if he was aware that candles were made on the
premises: likewise soap, by Liberia's energetic hands. The dandelion
expedient was suggested by thrifty Mrs. Davidson, who had never bought a
pound of coffee since she emigrated; and exceedingly well the substitute
answered, with its bitter aromatic flavour, and pleasant smell. If
Captain Argent had looked into the little house closet, he would have
seen a quantity of brownish roots cut up and stored on a shelf. Part of
Linda's morning duty was to chop a certain quantity of these to the size
of beans, roast them on a pan, and grind a cupful for breakfast. They
cost nothing but the trouble of gathering from among the potato heaps,
when the hills were turned up in autumn, and a subsequent washing and
spreading in the sun to dry.
Mrs. Davidson would also fain have introduced peppermint and sage tea;
but even Zack's bad congou was declared more tolerable than those herb
drinks, which many a settler imbibes from year to year.
'Throth an' there's no distinction o' thrades at all in this counthry,'
said Andy; 'but every man has to be a farmer, an' a carpinther, an'
a cobbler, an' a tailor, an' a grocer itself! There's Misther Robert
med an iligant shute o' canvas for the summer; an' Misther Arthur is
powerful at boots; an' sorra bit but Miss Linda spins yarn first-rate,
considherin' she never held a distaff before. An' the darlin' Missus
knits stockins; oh mavrone, but she's the beautiful sweet lady intirely,
that ought to be sitting in her carriage!'
News arrived from Dunore this spring, which Linda fancied would sorely
discompose Andy. The Wynns kept up a sort of correspondence with the old
tenantry, who loved them much. In an April letter it was stated that the
pretty blue-eyed Mary Collins, Andy's betrothed, had been base enough to
marry another, last Shrovetide. But the detaching process had gone on
at this side of the Atlantic also. Linda was amazed at the apathy with
which the discarded lover received the intelligence. He scratched his
red head, and looked somewhat bewildered; indulged in a few monosyllable
ejaculations, and half an hour afterwards came back to the parlour to
ask her 'if she was in airnest, to say that over agin.'
'Poor fellow! he has not yet comprehended the full extent of his loss,'
thought the young lady compassionately. She broke the news to him once
more, and he went away without a remark.
When Arthur came in, she would beg of him to look after the poor
suffering fellow. The request was on her lips at his appearance, but
he interrupted her with,--
'What do you think of that scamp, Andy, proposing for Libby in my
hearing? The fellow told her that his heart was in her keeping, and that
she was the light of his life, and grew quite poetical, I assure you; in
return for which, he was hunted round the wood-yard with a log!'
And Linda's sympathy expired.