INTRODUCES WIDOW ROBERTSHAW
I have been having quite an exciting time lately. If you have never
lived in a small hamlet of a hundred souls or thereabouts, with smaller
tributary hamlets dropped down in the funniest and most unlikely places
within easy walking distance, you do not know how very full of
excitement life can be. Why, when I was living at No. 8 nobody
displayed very much emotion when the jeweller at the end of the street
suffered "the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune" as the result of
the undesired patronage of connoisseurs in diamonds; and even when we
learned that the poor man had been found gagged and bound to his office
chair and more dead than alive, the languid interest of the company was
sufficiently expressed in the "Hard luck!" of the gentlemen, and the
"What a shame!" of the ladies.
"That's the fire-engine," someone would remark, as the horses dashed
past to the clang of the warning bell; but we sent up our plates for a
second helping of boiled mutton with never a thought as to the
destination and fate of the brave fellows who might be about to risk
their lives in a grim struggle with flame and smoke.
Murders and assassinations and suicides were discussed, if they had
been conducted respectably, with the same air of commiseration as was
employed when a fellow-boarder complained of headache; if they were not
respectable we did not discuss them at all. It took a first-class
society scandal to really stir us, and then we gathered in groups and
became thoroughly interested--the women, I mean, of course. The men
were just as interested but not so ready to admit it, and professed to
be debating politics. I sometimes wonder if what the Psalmist said in
his haste might not have been affirmed more leisurely. However, that
is nothing to the point; ordinarily, there is no denying the fact that
we were bored, or perhaps I ought to adopt the modern expression and
say "blase."
Here in Windyridge that word and its significance are unknown.
When old Mrs. Smithies' sow had a litter of seventeen pigs we all threw
down our work and went across to congratulate her, and stopped each
other in the street to discuss the momentous event, and to speculate on
the difference it would make in that worthy lady's fortunes.
On the other hand, when old Woodman's dog, Caesar, was reported to have
gone mad, we were wildly excited for the space of one whole day, and
spent our time in telling each other what dreadful things _might_ have
happened if he had not been securely chained up from the moment the
symptoms became ominous; and recalling lurid and highly-imaginative
stories of men who, as the result of dog-bites, had foamed at the
mouth, and had to be roped down to their beds. Which reminded someone
else of the bull that old Green used to have, away yonder past Uncle
Ned's, which went mad one Whitsuntide, and tore along the road three
good miles to Windyridge, roaring furiously, and scattering the school
children, who were assembled for the treat, in all directions; and
badly goring this very dog Caesar, who had pluckily charged him.
This week's excitements began on Monday, when young Smiddles, who had
been "gas-acting," according to his mother, ran his fist through the
window-pane, and cut his arm very badly and even dangerously.
Smiddles' roaring must have rivalled that of old Green's bull, and,
supplemented by his mother's screams, it served to rouse the whole
village.
Smiddles' sister, a buxom young woman of plain appearance but sound
sense, threatened to box the sufferer's ears if he did not "stop that
din," and though much alarmed at the flow of blood, made some efforts
to staunch it with her apron.
I had already gained an ill-deserved reputation for surgery,
principally on account of the possession of a medicine chest and an
"Ambulance" certificate, and my services were speedily requisitioned by
the fleet-footed son of the next door neighbour, who bade me come at
once, as "Smiddles' lad" was "bleeding to death on t' hearthstone."
After I had prevented the realisation of this fatality by means of a
tight bandage, and made the patient as comfortable as a sling permits,
I despatched the mercuric youth to summon Dr. Trempest, as I was afraid
some stitches would be necessary, and went out to find the street
buzzing with excitement, and my humble self regarded as only slightly
less than super-human.
No sooner had this sensation died down than the village thermometer
rose, two days later, to fever heat on the report that little Willie
Jones had ventured to test the ice upon the huge water-butt which
occupied a slightly elevated position at the end of his father's house
and was "drownded dead for sure."
Not a soul in the village knew what course to pursue under the
circumstances, and every eager helper might have avowed with truth and
sincerity that he had done the things he ought not to have done, and
left undone the things he ought to have done; and it was fortunate for
poor little Willie that my First Aid lessons had qualified me for
dealing with an emergency of this kind.
Farmer Goodenough and I worked hard for an hour, and my arms ached with
the effort, but at length the reluctant engine began to move, throbbing
fitfully but with increasing strength; and hot flannels and heated
bricks, with judicious but energetic rubbing, completed the treatment
and brought life and colour back again, so that when the doctor arrived
there was little left to be done.
I believe I was excited myself when it was all over, and if my head had
not been fixed very solidly upon my shoulders it would certainly have
been turned that day by the ridiculous and extravagant eulogies of my
neighbours.
Then followed the great blizzard. I suppose our cousins across the
water would have small respect for such an unpretentious specimen as we
experienced, but to me it was a revelation of what old Mother Nature
can do when she clenches her teeth and puts her hand to it.
A bright but grey sky overhung the earth when I set out soon after
dinner for a brisk constitutional, and I never for a moment anticipated
any change in the conditions. For some weeks past we had had
alternations of frost and snow and thaw, and for several days the bare,
brown earth had been frozen hard, and the roadway was furrowed as a
field, with ice filling every rut and wrinkle.
It was an ideal day for a sharp walk, provided one's organs were sound
and one's limbs supple, and though a thousand needles pricked my cheeks
and hands, and my ears smarted with the pinching they got, my whole
body was soon aglow and I revelled in the encounter.
I took the downward road which winds slowly round to Marsland, and
tried to discover the heralds of spring. On such a day everybody
should be an optimist. I think I generally am as regards myself,
whatever the weather may be like, but I must admit that so far I have
had little cause for being anything else. It is only when I begin to
dwell on the miseries of other people, and the wrongs which it seems
impossible to put right, that the black mood settles upon me.
But on this particular day I felt on good terms with the world, and
thought of the sunny days which lay ahead, and of the coming morning,
when the heather bells would feel the warm breath of summer upon their
face, and open their eyes in loving response to her kiss.
And here and there in the shelter of the hedges, and by the banks of
the ice-bound stream where the bridge crosses it I found the heralds I
sought--tiny shoots of green pushing their way through the hard soil or
the warm coverlet of faded leaves. By and by the icy fingers will have
to relax their grasp, and the woods and hedgerows will be gay with the
little fairy creatures, who dress so daintily in colours of a hundred
hues for our enjoyment, and who smile, perhaps, to think what a limited
monarchy King Frost maintains after all.
I am well known by now, and every farmer's boy who passes me exchanges
greetings, sometimes with a half-hearted movement of the hand in the
direction of the cap, but oftener with the smile of recognition which
betokens comradeship. For our relations are on the most cordial
footing of strict equality; we are all workmen, each after his kind,
servants of one Master; and if God gives us grace to use our
opportunities as we ought we may all enter, even now, into the joy of
the Lord. There is a vast difference, as I have learned, between
servility and respectfulness, and I believe I am as much respected as
the squire, though with less reason: and nobody is unduly deferential
even to him.
The good women in the cluster of cottages down the lane waved their
hands as I passed, and a couple of maidens of tender years, one fair,
the other with raven locks, ran out and seized each an arm, and
escorted me a hundred yards along my way.
I sat on the bridge for a while at the foot of the hill, and it may
have been the network of trees in the little wood which hid from my
eyes the approaching storm. For with the suddenness of a panther it
sprang upon me. There had been a fairly stiff breeze at my back, which
had helped me along famously, taking toll of my ears for its fee, but
now, as if its playful humour had been changed to madness, it lashed me
mercilessly with knotted whips of frozen rain.
Expecting every minute to reach the shelter of a farm I hurried
forward, whilst the storm howled and raged behind and about me. It was
well for me that the storm was at my back, for my face was entirely
unprotected and the sleet was driven past me in straight, almost
horizontal lines, which obliterated the landscape in a moment, and
stung my neck so that I could have cried with pain. When I had rounded
the bend and climbed the stiff ascent my plight was worse. There was
no protection of any kind and my face suffered so terribly that I began
to be alarmed. To add to my difficulties every landmark had been
blotted out, and the road itself was becoming indistinguishable from
the low-lying edge of moor over which it wound.
Like ten thousand shrouded demons let loose to work destruction the
wind hissed and shrieked and roared, and tore across my path with a
force I could scarcely resist. Ten minutes after its commencement I
was treading ankle-deep in snow, and I could see that drifts were
beginning to form where the road had been brought below the level of
the rising and lumpy moor. I would have given much to have been
sitting by Mother Hubbard's side, listening to the click of the
needles, but I was indeed thankful that she had not accompanied me.
After the first sensation of alarm and dismay the novelty of the
situation began to appeal to me. One can get accustomed even to being
thrashed by the genii of the air, and I became conscious of a certain
exhilaration which was almost pleasant, even whilst I was ardently
longing for the sight of a friendly roof.
I know now that I missed the broad road, and took a narrower one which
sloped down at an acute angle, but I was unconscious of this at the
time, and was only grateful to find some protection from the high wall
upon my left. I know also that I had passed two or three farms where I
might have been hospitably received, but no fog could have proved a
thicker curtain than that impenetrable veil of driven snow, and I never
even guessed at their existence.
The moor now began to rise steeply upon my right, and as I stumbled
forward, holding my hat upon my head with both hands, I suddenly found
myself upon hard ground again, with scarcely a trace of snow to be
seen, and with a whole row of cottages on one side of the road, in
which blazing fires offered me a warm welcome. I could hardly realise
that I had found refuge.
The roadway was only wide enough to accommodate a good-sized dray, and
was separated from the houses by the narrowest of footpaths, and
flanked on the right by the bare side of the hill, which rose
precipitously from the ground, to be soon concealed in the mantle of
the storm. Seen indistinctly as I saw it then it appeared more like a
railway cutting than anything else, and I could only marvel at the
eccentricity of man in erecting houses in such an unpromising locality.
However, for the mariner in danger of shipwreck to criticise the
harbour of refuge in which he finds himself is mean ingratitude.
"Nay, to be sure!" The ejaculation came from the mouth of a comely
woman of considerable proportions who filled up the doorway of the
cottage opposite to which I was standing. She wore a brown skirt
protected by a holland apron, and surmounted by a paisley blouse
bearing a fawn design on a ground of crudest green. The sleeves of the
blouse buttoned and were turned back to the elbow, and as two hooks
were loose at the neck I felt justified in assuming that my new
acquaintance was an enemy of constraint. Her feet were encased in
carpet slippers of shameless masculinity, and a black belt encircled
her ample waist, which at this moment was partly hidden by the
outstretched fingers of her hands, as she stood, arms akimbo, in the
doorway.
Her face, plump, pleasant and rosy, had for its principal feature two
merry, twinkling eyes, which sparkled with humour as she gazed upon me;
and her hair, which was beginning to turn grey, was drawn tightly back
and coiled in one large plait upon the crown. Altogether she was a
very homely, approachable woman, who had seen, as I judged, some fifty
summers, and I hailed her appearance with joy.
"Nay, to be sure!" she repeated; "are ye Lot's wife? or has t' lads,
young monkeys, planted a snow man at my door? Here, bide a bit while I
brush ye down, an' then come inside wi' ye."
I laughed, and submitted to the operation, vigorously performed in the
street, and then followed my rescuer indoors.
All my explanations were greeted with the same expressive utterance.
"To be sures" came as thickly as currants in a Yorkshire tea-cake. We
were unknown to each other by sight--for I was now, I found, in
Marsland Gap, with the valley between me and Windyridge--but my fame
had preceded me.
"Well, to be sure! So you're t' young lady what takes fotygraphs up at
Windyridge. Why, bless ye, I can show ye t' very house ye live in, an'
t' glass place where I reckon ye take yer fotygraphs from this window
in t' scullery. Nay, to be sure! it's that wild ye cannot see an arm's
length. Well, well, let's hev yer wet things off, for ye're fair
steamin' afore that fire."
I protested in vain. My hat and coat had already been removed, and now
my hostess insisted that my dress skirt should be hung upon the
clothes-horse to dry. Oh, Rose, Rose! what would you not have given to
see me ten minutes later clad in a garment which was reasonable enough
as to length, but which had to be pinned in a great overlapping fold
half round my body? I looked at myself and roared, whilst the owner of
the dress shook her sides with merriment. All the same, I had found
the inn of the Good Samaritan, and my stay there did not even cost me
the two pence of the story.
What do you think we had for tea? Muffins, toasted cheese, home-made
jam and "spice cake"! I helped to "wash-up," and as the storm
continued with unabated fury I resigned myself cheerfully to the snug
rocking-chair and the glowing hearth. Thoughts of Mother Hubbard's
anxiety worried me a little, but I hoped she would realise that I had
found shelter.
"You have not told me your name yet," I began, when we were comfortably
settled, I with my hands idle upon my lap, and she with a heap of
"mending" upon her knee.
"Well, to be sure! so I haven't," she replied. "Maria Robertsha' 's my
name, an' it's a name I'm noan ashamed on. Not but what I'd change it
if someb'dy 'ud give me a better. It's all right livin' by yerself if
ye can't 'elp it; an' to be sure, when ye live by yerself ye know what
comp'ny ye keep; but them can 'ave it 'at likes for me."
"Then do you live here quite alone?" I inquired.
"Barring the cat, I do. I did 'ave a parrot one time, 'cos it's nasty
temper seemed to make it more 'omelike; but t' lads, young imps, taught
it all sorts o' indecent stuff, which made it as I 'ad to part wi' it,
an' it was nearly like losing a 'usband a second time. It used to be
that gruff an' masterful you wouldn't think! No, I reckon nowt o'
livin' by mysen."
"It is not good that man should be alone," I quoted.
"It's worse for woman," she said, "an' yet, to be sure, I don't know,
for a woman 'at is a woman can allus make shift somehow, an' doesn't
stand pullin' a long face an' cussin' providence. But men are poor
menseless creatures when they're left to theirsens; an' it allus caps
me to think 'at they call theirsens 'lords o' creation,' an' yet 'as to
fetch a woman to sew a gallus button on, an' 'ud let t' 'ouse get lost
i' muck afore they'd clean it. Suppose a man lived 'ere by hissen, do
you think this kitchen 'ud look like this?"
"I am very sure it would not," I replied, "and it wouldn't if some
women lived here."
"Well, anyway, it just goes to prove 'at men need women to look after
'em, but for all that it's bad enough for a woman to be alone. To be
sure, she's a poor sort 'at hasn't more about 'er nor a man, an' it
isn't 'at she's flayed o' bein' by hersen or can't manage for hersen,
or owt o' that. No, no. But there's summat short, for all that. Ye
can take it from me, miss, 'at Eve 'ud sooner have been driven out o'
Eden wi' her 'usband, nor have been left there to fend for hersen.
Women doesn't want to be t' boss: they want to be bossed, or anyway
they like t' man to think 'at he's bossin' 'em. An' they like 'im to
come in wi' his great dirty boots spreadin' t' muck all ovver t' floor,
an' puttin' 'em on t' scoured 'earthstone, so as they can 'call' 'im
an' clear up after 'im.
"Oh, aye, to be sure, an' they like to see 'im light his pipe an' then
fratch wi' 'im for fillin' t' 'ouse wi' smoke; an' even if he knocks ye
about a bit now an' then, he sidles up to ye at after, an' 'appen puts
'is arms round ye, an'--an' makes a fool of hissen; but ye feel t' want
on it when ye've been used to 't."
"But we cannot all have husbands," I objected; "there are not enough of
the other sex to go round."
"To be sure, that's so," she consented; "but that doesn't alter t' fact
'at we want 'em, does it? But I'd tax all t' men 'at isn't married,
the selfish beggars. The Almighty meant 'em to pair off. Two an' two
they went into t' ark, an' two an' two they should go yet if I'd my
way. It's nature. An' I never could see yet why t' wimmen should 'ave
to sit quiet an' wait for t' men to come an' ask for 'em. A woman
knows better by 'alf what man 'ud suit 'er, an' 'er 'im, than t' man
knows. She knows without knowing how she knows; whereas t' man just
sees a pretty face, an' some dainty little feet i' 'igh-heeled boots,
an' some frizzy 'air, 'at she's bought as like as not at a barber's,
an' there ye are! But where are ye in toathree years' time? Aye, to
be sure, where are ye then?"
"Perhaps if conventionality had permitted, your state might have been
changed again by now," I suggested slyly.
"Well, now, to be sure, Miss Holden," she replied, drawing her chair a
little nearer to mine, and laying one hand upon my lap for emphasis, "I
thought after Robertsha' died 'at it were a case of 'once bitten, twice
shy,' for there were odd times when he filled up the cup, so to speak.
But, ye know, I missed 'im; an' though it's twelve year sin' come
Shrove-tide, I miss 'im yet; an' if I had the askin' I've known for a
long time who it 'ud be 'at 'ud take his place; but ye see I 'aven't,
so I bide as I am."
I thought of the old fox, Simon Barjona, and laughed inwardly as well
as outwardly. Widow Robertshaw little realised that I knew her secret.
Outside the storm raged furiously. The snow lay thick upon the ground,
moist as it fell, but frozen in a moment, and to venture out seemed in
my case impossible. We held a council of ways and means which resulted
in the production of a young man of strong build from a cottage a few
doors away, who smiled at the storm and readily undertook, in exchange
for a shilling, coin of the realm--to convey a note to Mother Hubbard,
describing my predicament.
I enjoyed Widow Robertshaw's hospitality, perforce, for two days, and
when I returned home it was in Mr. Higgins' market cart, he having
called in the Gap "casual-like" to see how Mrs. Robertshaw was "going
on."