SUPPERLESS TO BED.
Wade Brooks had no long history to be related. He was an orphan, but
not a foundling or any thing of that sort; and there is no chance of
his turning out to be the son of an English baronet or of an American
nabob. He was just what he seemed to be. His father had died a
miserable sot, six months before the peach-orchard was invaded, and was
buried at the expense of the town. Only a year before that event, his
mother had passed away, the victim of a hard lot. But she had not lived
in vain; for she was a good woman, and had left many good principles in
the mind of her son and only child. No stone marked her resting-place
in the churchyard, but her memory was preserved in the heart of her boy.
Midhampton consisted of a considerable village, with a large farming
territory. Not a few wealthy men who had made fortunes in the city had
homes within its limits, for it was not more than sixty miles from
New York City. On the river road were the residences of several such;
though, after the highway passed the hill, it was bordered by no more
handsome houses. The next dwelling was that of Philip Garlick, a
decided man, who believed that his own property belonged to him. The
next house was that of Obed Swikes, the father of Matthew Swikes. Matt
was a bad boy; but he came honestly by the evil in his nature, for his
father was the meanest man, by all odds, in the town of Midhampton.
Just beyond Swikes’s house, which was an old, black, and rickety
mansion, was the brook, by the side of which ran a lane down to the
river. At its mouth the little river widened out into quite a bay, at
the head of which were the ruins of the cabin in which Wade’s father
had lived and died. It had been set on fire by some bad boys, it was
thought, and had burned to the ground. It was owned by Obed Swikes,
who had not been able to find another tenant for the shanty in this
out-of-the-way place.
Wade’s father had been a loafer: he had spent all his time wandering
about the country on foot or in his boat, gunning and fishing for
his living. In this way he made a scanty living, for, when he sold
the product of his trips, he spent most of the money for liquor; and
Wade often had to pick up his own food after his mother died. The old
sail-boat which the sportsman used was still at the creek, as the place
was called. Anybody used it who wished to do so. It had been a good
boat in its day, and had a cuddy forward where the fisherman had often
slept in his wanderings.
After the death of Wade’s father, Obed Swikes had taken the boy into
his own family. The orphan was twelve years old; and Swikes kept him
at work so that he more than paid his keeping, for the keeping was
about as mean as ever a boy knew. Wade lodged in the garret; and, as
the house was badly out of repair, he was hardly sheltered from the
weather. In the winter he often slept in a snow-bank; and, as his
clothing was very meagre, he suffered a great deal from the cold.
After Wade parted with his companions, he went to the village to do
his errand. He hurried home, so as to make up the time he had lost in
the peach scrape. He took care to eat the three peaches before he went
into the village, for he knew that Lon and Matt would take them away
from him if they found them in his possession. They were going to the
village, and he might expect to meet them there.
“Where on airth have you been all this time, Wade Brooks?” demanded
Mrs. Swikes, as he entered the house on his return. “You’ve been gone
over an hour.”
“I couldn’t get back any sooner,” pleaded Wade; and, as the distance
to the village was two miles, he had made the four miles in very good
time, considering the time of which the bad boys had robbed him.
“Yes, you could! you’ve been stopping on the way,” continued the old
woman. “I’ve a great mind to give you a hiding for your laziness. We
have to board and clothe you, and you don’t airn your salt. You belong
in the poorhouse; and, if you don’t do better, we shall have to send
you there.”
But this was only a specimen of the abuse to which the boy was
subjected every day of his life; and, with poor food and little
clothing, he was almost disgusted with his efforts to get along in the
world. If Obed Swikes’s tongue was not as cutting as that of his wife,
he made it up by putting heavy burdens on the boy. He called him from
his bed at daylight in the morning, and kept him at work till into the
night on the farm and about the barn.
When he had done his errand, he was set to work without any delay, at
digging early potatoes in the garden, which Swikes was to take to the
village to sell in the morning. He worked till dark, and then he was
called to supper. He went into the house hungry as every growing boy
is, and seated himself at the table. The family, consisting of five
persons, had taken the meal an hour before; but Wade was required to
work as long as he could see.
Wade’s supper was a bowl of milk and a plate of brown bread,--very good
if there had only been enough of it, and if it had not been his diet
every night in the week. The boy did not complain of his food, for he
had often seen the time when he could not get even this.
“Have you seen any thing of Matthew?” asked Mrs. Swikes, as Wade seated
himself at table.
“Yes, marm: I saw him and Lon Trustleton as I was going over to the
village,” replied the weary boy; but he was careful not to say any
thing more. He knew it would cost him a pounding if he told the whole
truth.
“He hain’t been home to his supper yet,” added Mrs. Swikes. “Do you
know where he is, Wade?”
“No, marm. He didn’t tell me where he was going,” answered Wade.
But at this moment Matt came into the kitchen to speak for himself. He
was limping, and seemed to be very sore, as well he might be after such
a castigation as he had received.
“Where have you been, Matthew?” asked his mother, as the stealer of
peaches dragged himself into the room. “What ails you? What makes you
limp and squirm so?”
Matthew was the only boy of the family: the other children were all
girls; and, for this reason, his parents thought more of him than
of all the others, and did their best to spoil him, and succeeded
remarkably well. Mrs. Swikes was anxious when she saw that something
ailed her son; and her tones were quite tender, compared with those she
had used to Wade.
“Garlick has been licking me with a horsewhip,” moaned Matt, bursting
into tears, and breaking down completely in the presence of his mother.
“Lickin’ you! What on airth did he do that for?” demanded the indignant
mother.
“He said I stole his peaches,” sobbed Matt; “but I didn’t. It was Wade
Brooks that stole ’em, and laid it to Lon and me.”
Without waiting to investigate this statement, Mrs. Swikes, who was a
great raw-boned woman,--her husband had married her because he thought
she would be able to do a good deal of work,--seized poor Wade, and
dragged him from his chair at the table, upsetting his bowl of milk,
and pitched him on the floor. The boy was an infant in her grasp, and
he did not offer any resistance. The Amazon gazed at her prostrate
victim, while her eyes glowed with hate and rage; then, resorting to a
masculine accomplishment, she savagely kicked him in the ribs.
“I didn’t steal any peaches,” pleaded Wade, as humbly as the case
seemed to require: “I didn’t touch one of them.”
“Yes, he did, mother. He told Garlick we did it; and Garlick give him
three peaches for telling,” howled Matt, still blubbering like a baby.
“Mr. Garlick did give me three peaches, but it was because he licked me
when I did not deserve it,” pleaded Wade. “You can ask Mr. Garlick, and
he will tell you the same thing.”
“Ketch me asking Garlick any thing about it!” exclaimed Mrs. Swikes
furiously. “I’ll take it out of his hide for licking my boy.”
Wade was entirely willing she should do this, if she did not take it
out of his own hide, which she was more likely to do.
“He licked Lon Trustleton too; and, if you ask him, he will tell you
just what I say,” whined Matt.
Mrs. Swikes seized a green-hide, which was her husband’s wagon-whip,
and began to belabor poor Wade with it. It was a terrible instrument of
torture when applied to a boy’s skin, covered only with a pair of thin
overalls. The boy did not cry out with the pain, for he had found that
it did no good, and, the more he screamed, the worse he got it; but he
could not endure the blows, and he made a spring for the open door.
Mrs. Swikes followed him, and attempted to catch him; but, goaded by
the instinct of self-preservation, he succeeded in getting out of the
way.
“Stop, you rascal!” shouted the Amazon. “Do you mean to run away from
me? I’ll give you a double dose for this.”
“What’s the matter now?” demanded Mr. Swikes, coming in from the barn
at this point in the difficulty.
The angry woman told him what the matter was; and Wade rested while
she was doing so. He did not think it was prudent to run away. He felt
that Mrs. Swikes’s promise would be redeemed, and he wished to make the
penalty as light as possible. The father was as indignant as the mother
had been at the punishment bestowed upon the only male hope of that old
black house; but he was sometimes more reasonable than his wife. In a
low tone he told her she must not lick the boy with a green-hide: they
might have her up before the court for cruelty, as had been the case
with Ethan Small. He would punish the boy. Possibly he had a suspicion
that Wade told the truth, and Matt the lies. But Wade had been whipped
enough, even if the charge against him was true; and he escaped any
further beating, though he was sent to bed without his supper.
Matt ate his supper, which was a better meal than that provided for
the boy of all work, and he went to bed with a full stomach. The young
villain was not half so badly damaged as he pretended to be. His legs
did smart in the first of it, but he got over this before he reached
his father’s house.
But Wade’s complaining stomach did not allow him to sleep. He lay till
he thought the family were all asleep; and then he left his garret, and
crept down the stairs, which landed in the back room. All the family
slept on the first floor, and Wade paused at the foot of the stairs
to ascertain if any one was stirring. It was very dark in the back
room, but he heard sounds as of some one creeping across the room. He
retreated up two steps, and then saw the back-door opened. By the light
it let in, he saw Matt go out, and close the door.