WHAT JINNIE FOUND ON THE HILL
The days rolled on and on, and the first warm impulses of spring
brought Jinnie, pale and thin, back to Lafe's side.
She was growing so strong that days when the weather permitted, Peg
put a wrap on her, telling her to breathe some color into her cheeks.
For a long time Jinnie was willing to remain quietly on the hut steps
where she could see the cobbler whacking away on the torn footwear.
She knew that if she looked long enough, he would glance up and smile
the smile which always warmed the cockles of her loving heart.
As she grew better, and therefore restless, she walked with Happy Pete
along the cinder path beside the tracks. Each day she went a little
further than the day before, the spirit of adventure beginning to live
again within her. The confines of her narrow world were no longer kept
taut by the necessity of selling wood, and to-day it seemed to broaden
to the far-away hill from whence the numberless fingers of shadow and
sunshine beckoned to the sentimental girl.
She wandered through Paradise Road with the little dog as a companion,
and finding her way to the board walk, strolled slowly along.
Wandering up above the city, she discovered a lonely spot snuggled in
the hills, and gathering Happy Pete into her arms, she lay down. Over
her head countless birds sang in the sunshine, and just below, in the
hollow, were squirrels, chattering out their happy existence.
Dreamily, through the leaves of the trees, Jinnie watched the white
clouds float across the sky like flocks of sheep, and soon the peace
of the surrounding world lulled her to rest.
When Happy Pete touched her with his slender tongue, Jinnie sat up,
staring sleepily around. At a sound, she turned her head and caught
sight of a little boy, whose tangled hair lay in yellow curls on his
head.
The sight of tears and boyish distress made Jinnie start quickly
toward him, but he seemed so timid and afraid she did not speak.
Suddenly, two slight, twig-scratched arms fluttered toward her, and
still without a word Jinnie took the trembling hands into hers. Happy
Pete crawled cautiously to the girl's side; then, realizing something
unusual, he threw up his black-tipped nose and whined. At the faint
howl, the boy's hands quivered violently in Jinnie's. He caught his
breath painfully.
"Oh, who're you? Are you a boy or a girl?"
His eyes were touched with an indefinable expression. Jinnie flushed
as she scanned for a moment her calico skirt and overhanging blouse.
Then with a tragic expression she released her hands, and ran her
fingers through her hair. With such long curls did she look like a
boy?
"I'm a girl," she said. "Can't you see I'm a girl?"
"I'm blind," said the boy, "so--so I had to ask you."
Jinnie leaned forward and scrutinized him intently.
"You mean," she demanded brokenly, "that you can't see me, nor Happy
Pete, nor the trees, nor the birds, nor the squirrels, skipping
around?"
The boy bowed his head in assent, but brightened almost instantly.
"No, I can't see those things, but I've got lots of stars inside my
head. They're as bright as anything, only sometimes my tears put 'em
out."
Then, as if he feared he would lose his new friend, he felt for her
hand once more.
Jinnie returned the clinging pressure. For the second time in her life
her heart beat with that strange emotion--the protective instinct she
had felt for her father. She knew at that moment she loved this little
lad, with his wide-staring, unseeing eyes.
"I'm lost," said the boy, sighing deeply, "and I cried ever so long,
but nobody would come, and my stars all went out."
"Tell me about your stars," she said eagerly. "Are they sky stars?"
"I dunno what sky stars are. My stars shine in my head lovely and I
get warm. I'm cold all over and my heart hurts when they go out."
"Oh!" murmured Jinnie. "I wish they'd always shine."
"So do I." Then lifting an eager, sparkling face, he continued,
"They're shinin' now, 'cause I found you."
"Where're your folks?" asked Jinnie, swallowing hard.
"I dunno. I lost 'em a long time ago, and went to live with Mag. She
licked me every day, so--I just runned away--I've been here a awful
long time."
Jinnie considered a moment before explaining an idea that had slipped
into her mind as if it belonged there. She would take him home with
her.
"You're going to Lafe's house," she announced presently. "Happy Pete
and me and Peg live at Lafe Grandoken's home. Peggy makes bully
soup."
"And I'm so hungry," sighed the boy. "Where's the dog I heard
barking?"
He withdrew his hands, moving them outward, searching for something.
The girl tried to push Pete forward, but the dog only snuggled closer
to her.
"Petey, dear, I'm ashamed of you!" she chided lovingly. "Can't you see
the little fellow's trying to feel you?"
Then Happy Pete, as if he also were ashamed, came within reach of the
wavering hands, and crouched low, to be looked over with ten slender
finger tips.
"He's awful beautiful!" exclaimed the boy. "His hair's softer'n silk,
and his body's as warm as warm can be."
Jinnie contemplated Happy Pete's points of beauty. Never before had
she thought him anything more than a homely, lovable dog, with squat
little legs, and a pointed nose. In lightninglike comparison she
brought to her mind the things she always considered beautiful--the
spring violets, the summer roses, that belt of wonderful color
skirting the afternoon horizon, and all the wonders of nature of which
her romantic world consisted. The contrast between these and the
shaking black dog, with his smudge of tangled hair hanging over his
eyes, shocked Jinnie's artistic sense.
"If----if you say he's beautiful, then he is," she stammered almost
inaudibly.
"Of course he is! What's your name?"
"Jinnie. Jinnie Grandoken... What's yours?"
"Blind Bobbie, or sometimes just Bobbie."
"Well, I'll call you Bobbie, if you want me to.... I like you awful
well. I feel it right in here."
She pressed the boy's fingers to her side.
"Oh, that's your heart!" he exclaimed. "I got one too! Feel it jump!"
Jinnie's fingers pressed the spot indicated by the little boy.
"My goodness," she exclaimed, "it'll jump out of your mouth, won't
it?"
"Nope! It always beats like that!"
"Where's your mother?" asked Jinnie after a space.
"I suppose she's dead, or Mag wouldn't a had me. I don't know very
much, but I 'member how my mother's hands feel. They were soft and
warm. She used to come to see me at the woman's house who died--the
one who give me to Mag."
"She must have been a lovely mother," commented Jinnie.
"She were! Mag tried to find her 'cause she said she was rich, and
when she couldn't, she beat me. I thought mebbe I'd find mother out in
the street. That's why I run away."
Jinnie thought of her own dead father, and the child's halting tale
brought back that one night of agony when Thomas Singleton died, alone
and unloved, save for herself. She wanted to cry, but instead she
murmured, "Happy in Spite," as Lafe had bidden her, and the melting
mood vanished. The cobbler and his club were always wonderfully
helpful to Jinnie.
"My mother told me onct," Bobbie went on, "she didn't have nothin' to
live for. I was blind, you see, and wasn't any good--was I?"
The question, pathetically put, prompted Virginia to fling back a
ready answer.
"You're good 'nough for me and Happy Pete," she asserted, "and Lafe'll
let you be his little boy too."
The blind child gasped, and the girl continued assuringly, "Peg'll
love you, too. She couldn't help it."
"Peg?" queried Bobbie.
"Oh, she's Lafe's wife. Happy Pete and me stay in her house."
The blind eyes flashed with sudden hope.
"Mebbe she'll love me a little! Will she?"
"I hope so. Anyway, Lafe will. He loves everybody, even dogs. He'll
love you; _sure_ he will!"
The boy shook his head doubtfully.
"Nobody but mothers are nice to blind kids. Well--well--'cept you. I'd
like to go to Lafe's house, though, but mebbe the woman wouldn't want
me."
Jinnie had her own ideas about this, but because the child's tears
fell hot upon her hands, the mother within her grew to greater
proportions. Three times she repeated softly, "Happy in Spite."
"Happy in Spite," she whispered again. Then she sat up with a
brilliant smile.
"Of course I'm going to take you to Lafe's. Here at Lafe's my heart's
awful busy loving everybody. Now I've got you I'm going to take care
of you, 'cause I love you just like the rest. Stand up and let me wipe
your nose."
"Let me see how you look, first," faltered the boy. "Where's your
face?... I want to touch it!"
His little hands reached and found Jinnie's shoulders. Then slowly the
fingers moved upwards, pressing here and there upon the girl's skin,
as they traveled in rhythmic motion over her cheeks.
"Your hair's awful curly and long," said he. "What color is it?"
"Color? Well, it's black with purple running through it, I guess.
People say so anyway!"
"Oh, yes, I know what black is. And your eyes're blue, ain't they?"
"Yes, blue," assented Jinnie. "I see 'em when I slick my hair in the
kitchen glass ... I don't think they're much like yours."
Bobbie paid no heed to the allusion to himself.
"Your forehead's smooth, too," he mused. "Your eyes are big, and the
lashes round 'em 're long. You're much prettier'n your dog, but then
girls 're always pretty."
A flush of pleased vanity reddened Jinnie's skin to the tips of her
ears, and she scrambled to her feet. Then she paused, a solemn
expression shadowing her eyes.
"Bobbie," she spoke soberly, "now I found you, you belong to me, don't
you?"
Bobbie thrust forth his hands.
"Yes, yes," he breathed.
"Then from now on, from this minute, I'm going to work for you."
Jinnie's thoughts were on the shortwood strap, but she didn't mention
it. Oh, how she would work for money to give Peg with which to buy
food! How happy she would be in the absolute ownership of the boy she
had discovered in the hills! Tenderly she drew him to her. He seemed
so pitifully helpless.
"How old 're you?" she demanded.
"Nine years old."
"You don't look over five," said Jinnie, surprised.
"That's because I'm always sick," explained the boy.
Jinnie threw up her head.
"Well, a girl sixteen ought to be able to help an awful little boy,
oughtn't she?... Here, I'll put my arm round you, right like this."
But the boy made a backward step, so that Jinnie, thinking he was
about to fall, caught him sharply by the arm.
"I'll walk if you'll _lead_ me," Bobbie explained proudly.
Thus rebuffed, Jinnie turned the blind face toward the east, and
together they made their way slowly to the plank walk.