ANOTHER LIE
I had hidden myself among the lilacs but I could see quite plainly
across the veranda into the big living-room.
Dallas had sprung up and clutched the nearest person who happened to be
Big Chief carrying a pile of plates in his hand.
Smash! went the plates on the floor, and whack went Big Chief's empty
hands against Dallas' shoulders.
"What's the matter with you?" he exclaimed. "Are you crazy?"
"That yell," gasped Dallas. "Is someone drowning?"
"No, no," said Mr. Devering, "it's only Bolshy getting his bath."
White and ashamed, young Dallas had sunk back on the settle, and Mr.
Devering turned to his son.
"Tecumseh, my boy," he said good-naturedly, "it seems to me you were
laying rather violent hands on our guest."
His tone was not stern. I saw he was not a person to aggravate a boy
into revolt; however when Big Chief scowled and came to stare out in my
direction, both hands rammed sulkily into his pockets, his father
stepped after him.
"Your ugly humors are riding you to a fall," he said quietly. "Go
apologise to your cousin."
Big Chief gave him a quick look, then he went to Dallas and said
gruffly, "I hope I didn't hurt you, when I grabbed your shoulders."
"Not a bit," said Dallas; "but do tell me what that noise was."
I saw Big Chief's lips just forming a W that meant he was going to say
"Wolf." Then he changed his mind, for his father stood near him.
"It's a Russian," he said. "He fought in France, was wounded, came to
Canada as a stoker on a steamer, was arrested and put in a camp near
here. The war over, he was released. He didn't want to go to Russia. He
got lost in the woods. The game warden found him, and washes him and the
Russian yells."
"The warden is trying to make a good Canadian citizen out of him," said
Mr. Devering quietly.
By this time, the children were all standing by the table singing their
pretty grace before meat. When they sat down Cassowary called out, "Dad,
can't we take Cousin over to see the Russian? You'll like him, Dallas.
He's all hairy like a dog."
"Thank you," said my young master politely; "if he isn't getting hurt, I
should like to see him."
"We can take over the Russian blouse Mother is making for him," said the
girl, "and you can see for yourself, Dallas, how kind the warden and his
son are to him. But of course he must keep clean."
Dallas shuddered. He had great sympathy for anyone forced to go into
the water that cold morning.
"We'll go after breakfast," said Cassowary, "just the big kids."
At this, there was a howl from Sojer, Dovey and Big-Wig who were
evidently the little kids. Up here in the Canadian backwoods it was just
like the same old story as in cities--the big children were always
trying to get away from the little ones.
Mrs. Devering gave her husband a helpless look. By this time the cereal
had been put on the table by Big Chief and the children were busily
eating it and pouring on plenty of rich wonderful cream. Oh! how I
wished that some of the pale young children in cities could have such
cream.
"Daddy," said Mrs. Devering, "what are we going to do with these noisy
children? They are as full of sound as empty vessels."
"I don't know," said Mr. Devering. "I wonder whether it is because they
are growing so fast. They never yelled like this before."
"We've got to do something about it," his wife went on. "If their
grandmother should come up this summer, she would be deafened."
"It's nothing to worry about," he said, "only misdirected energy. The
trouble with young things is that they can't remember to remember. What
do they propose to do themselves about it?" and he glanced through the
doorway at his children.
My dear young master was going on eating quite comfortably. For once
this trouble was none of his. Whatever his faults might be he was no
yeller.
"Thpank the howlerths," cried little Big-Wig, who was the worst screamer
of all.
"Gate them," said Cassowary in a high-pitched voice.
"Fine them," called Champ.
"Send them to bed," exclaimed Sojer.
"Take away their toys," shrieked Dovey.
"And you Big Chief," said Cassowary pertly, "you with the brassiest
voice of all, what say you?"
He was finishing his oatmeal quickly, so he could get up and change the
plates, and he said in a thick voice, "Cut their grub."
Mrs. Devering smiled quite contentedly. "I think this expression of
opinion goes to prove that each child has mentioned the punishment most
disliked. Therefore if you baby don't stop screaming we'll spank you;
Jeanne will be put in bounds; Champlain fined, James sent to bed,
Marguerite deprived of her dolls and Tecumseh put on bread and water."
The children all shrieked with laughter at the neat way in which their
parents had trapped them, and I saw that there was good feeling in this
family even in the matter of punishments. Big Chief was the only naughty
one, and something would come to reform him I was sure, for he could not
be a bad boy at heart--with such parents.
The children were careful to speak in very even polite tones as they ate
their bacon and eggs and griddle cakes. I watched my young master's
face and was delighted to see it growing redder as he sat by the fire
and stuffed his young self with this good food. Soon he would be as
hardy as these children.
How he loved his uncle. He watched him as a cat would watch a mouse, and
ate everything he ate and drank whatever he drank---- No one had coffee
or tea, they had milk, cocoa, buttermilk, and cold water, which latter
the kiddies drank as if it had been something that would make them
super-children.
As soon as breakfast was finished Mrs. Devering looked round at the
squirming family and said, "Another reform--please get up quietly and
push your chairs in to the table, but don't rise till I do. I'm
hostess."
In two minutes there wasn't a child in sight. "Where have they gone?"
asked Dallas.
"All have tasks," said Mr. Devering. "When I was a boy I thought as a
boy who was a rich man's child. Servants waited on me. My children live
in a new age. They must learn to wait on themselves."
I could see the children flying about the place. Cassowary was carrying
food from the kitchen to the hen-house, Big Chief had gone to help clean
the stables, Sojer was sweeping the verandas, Dovey was putting seeds
and scraps on the wild bird tables about the lawn. It seems there
weren't enough birds about to kill the insect pests, so Mr. Devering was
giving extra food to attract more.
The curled darling Big-Wig was picking up scraps of paper and bits of
litter from the drive, and grumbling to his little aristocratic self as
he did so. He would be a regular small slave-driver with servants if he
had his head. Just as well there was a check-rein.
"And what shall I do?" asked Dallas eagerly.
"Come and see," said Mr. Devering, and to my delight he began to lead
the way to my cabin, first calling out, "Come from behind the lilacs,
you sly-boots."
That was I, and I bowed my head a great many times to propitiate him as
I joined them.
Oh! what a lesson he gave my young master on the proper way to take care
of a pony.
"Horses are true friends of man," he said, as he led the way past my
cabin and the barns up to the long horse stable on the hill. "Every boy
should know how to take care of them. There are two classes of
stables--town and country. We won't talk about the first to-day. This is
supposed to be a model country stable. It is not in a barn where if the
hay got on fire the horses might burn. It has a double row of stalls
with doors opening outward--you see the ground is high, well-drained,
and the stalls have an east and west exposure so all the horses can get
a bit of sunshine."
"Is it of stone?" asked Dallas.
"No, concrete with a hollow centre for a dead air space."
We walked inside the nice fresh-smelling stable and Dallas looked round
him. "Where are the horses?"
"Out to pasture--let us go down this main alleyway and I will explain
the lay-out to you."
My young master was intensely interested as his uncle talked to him
about the width of stalls, the size of windows, the proper kind of
concrete flooring which should have wooden stall racks, the ventilating
flues and rolling doors.
"Why didn't you bring my Prince Fetlar up to this grand stable?" asked
young Dallas, smiling at me as I thrust an inquiring muzzle over his
shoulder.
"Because we never assign a stall till we find out a horse's disposition.
If you went to boarding-school you wouldn't want to bed next a boy you
disliked."
"Not I," said my sensitive young master with a shiver. "It makes me sick
to be near people I don't care for."
"Well, ponies are almost as particular as boys. Now come over to this
side of the stable where the ponies face west. Here's your pet's stall
next Apache Girl's. She won't have every pony next her, but she will get
on with his amiable highness."
This was a compliment for me, so I licked a bit of this nice man's
shoulder in a caressing way, and he turned and gazed deep into what he
called my "soft and soulful" eyes.
"So you are to come up here, Prince Fetlar," said Dallas, stroking me
kindly. "Now I wonder what this big stall beyond yours is for. It looks
as if you could put a dozen ponies in it."
"That's the hospital stall," said his uncle. "See, there is a bed above
it for a man to sleep when a pony or horse requires to be watched at
night. A button by his bed enables him to turn on the light."
"I see you have lights all over the stable," said Dallas.
"Yes, the horse race likes cheerfulness as much as we do. Now let us
groom the Prince."
Didn't I step forward with alacrity when I heard this.
"He knows every word we say," remarked Mr. Devering. "I'm mighty glad I
chanced on so knowing a little fellow. Now, Dallas, a few words on
grooming. Indians use the bare hand and arm--utensils in common stable
use among us whites are the metal curry-combs, bristle body-brushes,
corn-brushes, rub rags, sponges, whisks and hoof picks. Do you know why
one grooms?"
"To keep horses clean, my Uncle."
"Exactly--horses shed particles of skin the way we do. One must remove
them. To begin with I may say that I do not permit in my stables any
metal curry-combs. Men are careless about filing the new ones and they
worry a horse. I use no metal brushes. Now here is a brush for you--no,
don't rub your Prince the right way of the hair--the reverse way to get
out the dandruff and dry dirt. Here let me show you. The body brush is
the one used to rub the hair the way it grows."
I stood quite still, very much amused at the feeble pawing little hand
of my young master, such a contrast to the steady firm one of the man.
Well, all young things have to learn.
Mr. Devering showed the boy how to do my tail and mane and hand-pick the
latter.
Young Dallas shone best on the use of the rub rag with which he gave me
a fine polish. Then, as I am a racer, his uncle showed him how to
massage me.
Dallas was delighted. "I never did this before for any animal," he said.
"Why it almost makes my dear Pony human."
"Ah! lad," said his uncle, "when one thinks of the state of uncleanness
in which animals are allowed to exist one is appalled."
"Don't nearly all our domestic animals come from wild ones?" asked
Dallas.
"Yes, my boy--and in a wild state they keep themselves clean, but when
domesticated they can't. I think myself there is too much housing of
dumb animals. Even in winter my creatures have their freedom for at
least a part of the day."
"It's pretty cold here in winter, isn't it?" asked Dallas.
Mr. Devering's black eyes twinkled. "Forty and fifty below zero."
"Why how do you keep warm?"
"It's all a question of food supply. We eat nourishing things and dress
warmly. You should see my children and animals disporting themselves in
the snow and on the ice--often icicles hanging to them, their breath
like steam. Nature provides them with coats of fat or extra hair."
"That is most interesting," said Dallas with a wise air, and putting
his head on one side.
Then he listened to his uncle who was singing four lines to him,
"And Nature, the old nurse, took
The child upon her knee
Saying, 'Here is a story book
Thy Father hath written for thee.'"
Dallas began to laugh merrily and said, "Uncle, I believe you are a
magician. Already I feel myself beginning to like this place and even to
look with a friendly eye upon the trees."
Mr. Devering showed every one of his strong white teeth in a pleased
smile, then he said, "Come and see one of the most useful things on the
farm."
"A vacuum cleaner for horses," exclaimed Dallas after we had crossed to
the horses' side of the stable. "I never heard of such a thing."
"Let's try it on the Prince," said Mr. Devering. "I see by the look in
the tail of his eye that he is acquainted with its use."
Then he passed over my back the soft rubber mouth with the high wind
inside it.
I liked it and did not wince. Then I listened to Mr. Devering who was
saying, "We use this cleaner for the work-horses only. I prefer that you
children rub down your ponies. Now I see a man from the sawmill out
there and you have had lesson enough for one morning. Let us go back to
the house."
Arrived there, the children all swept young Dallas down to the wharf. I
went along too, feeling as light as a feather after my good grooming
and vacuum cleaning.
"Have you ever been in a canoe?" Cassowary inquired of my young master.
"Oh! yes," he said quickly.
Poor little lad. I knew by his face that he was not telling the truth.
Oh! why would he lie? In the first place a pony or a child who lies is
usually found out, and if you're not found out you feel so like a little
fool that you lose self-respect.
Cassowary was doubtful and said shrewdly, "Where were you ever in a
canoe--not on the pond on Boston Common surely."
"On beaches," said Dallas boldly, "with John and Margie."
Now she had already found out that John and Margie were two elderly city
servants. It was most unlikely that they would entrust their old bones
to such skittish things as canoes. However she said nothing, but got out
her slim blue canoe, put a paddle in it, and casting a glance at Big
Chief, who was launching a larger canoe and calling out directions to
the younger children, who after all had been permitted to come.
"Champ, go to the bow," he was roaring. "I'll take the stern myself.
Sojer sit down. Dovey, if you wriggle, I'll pitch you out. No you shan't
take Sideways."
I turned around. Who was Sideways? Of all things--a common tortoiseshell
cat. Why in the name of cat sense would she want to go on the water?
Later on I found out all about her. One cat after another had been
electrocuted on this farm for hunting birds, and this was a case of the
survival of the fittest. She loved birds; she told me afterward; it was
perfectly delicious to feel a little feathery ball wiggling between your
claws, but she said, "I wanted to live, so I gave them up and as I just
had to hunt something, I got after the things that even my masters hunt,
namely fishes. I assure you I enjoy curling my claws in the water and
catching little silly minnows, and I have learned to wade, so I have no
fear of the water. I like sitting by a good fire and licking myself
dry!"
When I heard Cassowary speaking in a low voice to Dallas I turned from
the cat. I think she dropped her voice so Big Chief would not hear. "You
haven't been in a canoe before," she said. "You don't know how to get
in. Give me your hand. Step in the middle of the road. Now fold yourself
up like a jack-knife. So----"
Dallas looked confused, took her hand, stepped into the canoe,
over-balanced and went ker-splash! into the water and down under the
crib from which the canoes were being launched.
I waited two seconds, saw Cassowary drop like a loon after him, but she
did not bring him up. Then I galloped to the beach and wading out swam
carefully to the edge of the crib, thinking perhaps I could aid with
teeth or tail, for one of my water stunts is to bring ashore children
who pretend they are drowning.
Cassowary, who was almost as much at home under the water as on it, was
plunging about like a seal, and just as I arrived had brought Dallas to
the surface, and holding him by the collar with one hand and hanging on
to the crib with the other she gravely watched Champ and Big Chief
giving first aid to the drowning by putting my poor little master on his
face and pressing the water out of his lungs.
Mr. Devering came springing down the path like a boy, and when he saw
his dear lad, his face went white and he said irritably, "What does this
mean?"
Dallas by this time was sitting up and spitting out last mouthfuls of
water, so his uncle saw he was in no danger.
"Come here, Dad, please," said Cassowary.
Mr. Devering bent over his young daughter as she swayed herself idly to
and fro in the water, only her head and shoulders visible.
"Do you remember the picture," she said, "in the comic paper about the
six boys and girls going gaily to pick mushrooms and it was labelled,
'They thought they knew mushrooms'?"
"Yes, I remember it," he said impatiently.
She went on, "Then there was another picture of six little funerals
marked, 'But they didn't.'"
"Yes, I remember that too," he said. "Now do come out of the water and
go put on dry overalls."
"Dallas thought he knew canoes, but he didn't," she said as she accepted
her father's hand and climbed meekly out of the lake. Then she added,
"And Mother calls these frilly ankled things 'overettes,' not
'overalls.'"
I heard a sound of sly laughter in my ears as I stood shaking myself
and looking round saw Sideways the cat.
"Girls are queer," she said. "Cassowary is jealous of the new boy. She
has snubbed her father and praised her mother who does not pet the lad."
"You mind your own affairs," I said crossly. "There are too many animals
and humans watching my young master."
As if he heard me Mr. Devering turned round. "You water-monkey," he said
to me. "Champ, take him up to pony stall number 8 and dry and blanket
him, and above all tie him."
Then he went on helping my young master walk slowly to the house.
So I was led away to my pony stall and Dallas was put in his room stall
and kept there for some hours.
"Dad! Dad!" howled the younger children who were not at all impressed by
this accident, "aren't we going to see Bolshy?"
"Another time," he called. "How would you like to have a picnic supper
over there, and have Mother go?"
They made the welkin ring when they heard this proposal, and smiling
kindly on the little flock this patient man went on his way up to the
house.
I wondered what he would say to his nephew, but as it turned out he
never mentioned the affair till days later. He just sat by the fire with
Dallas, reading to him and trying to get his young mind off himself. The
lesson came when they were both with me.