Anxious Hours
One day, a strange white dog appeared at the Davenports'. No one knew
whence she came. Perhaps Duke enticed her to the house. He tried to
bespeak Beth's interest by barking vigorously and jumping up and down
wildly, as if begging the child to keep her.
At first, it was hard for Beth to feel any interest in the dog. It was
fearfully thin, and always acted as if it expected to be kicked. It
had one redeeming feature in that its eyes were very beautiful. They
were large and brown, with a mildly pathetic look that appealed to
Beth's soft heart so that she decided to keep the dog.
For the first few days the newcomer sneaked under the house when any
one was around. When she saw, however, that she was left unmolested,
she gained courage. Duke was all devotion, and the white dog thrived
under such attention. She freshened up so well that Beth wondered how
she ever thought the dog ugly. Kindness and good food work wonders
with dogs as well as with people. The days of her stay lengthened into
months.
One morning, Beth came running in from the barn, her eyes brilliant
from excitement.
"Mamma, mamma," she called, "what do you think? White dog"--they had
never given her a name--"has seven of the cutest little puppies you
ever saw. Duke took me out and showed them to me."
"Duke took you out?"
"Yes, mamma. When I went out to play with him this morning he caught
hold of my dress and tried to pull me towards the barn. I thought he
was just playing; but when he did it the second time, I followed him,
and he led me to white dog and the puppies. Oh, they're the cutest
things you ever saw."
[Illustration: "The cutest things you ever saw."]
Beth watched the growth of the puppies with great interest. She was
delighted when their eyes opened, and when they began to run around she
was almost too happy for words.
That night she said to her papa: "I've been thinking about Mr. Brown.
He must miss Duke awfully. He wasn't such a horrid man after all, or
he wouldn't have let me keep Duke."
Mr. Davenport smiled. "Beth, a man was talking to me about him to-day.
The man said Brown was trying to reform; that he hadn't taken any
liquor for some time past. I was very glad to hear it."
Beth pondered a minute or two, then asked:
"Do you think if he had a dog now he'd be nice to it?"
"Yes, I believe he would. Brown wasn't half bad except when he drank.
But you're not thinking of giving Duke back to him, are you?"
Beth shook her head very vigorously. "I couldn't do that, papa. I
love Duke too much."
She said no more but got out paper and pencil. She was backward in all
schooling at this time, and could only print. However, she sat down at
the table beside her father and went to work. It proved a very
difficult task to her, but she persevered until she finished. Most of
the correctly spelled words she learned from her father.
This is what she wrote:
"To dukes master duke has puppies wood you like a pup i havent thanked
you for duke but i love duke very much and think you a nice man to give
duke to me
"your little friend
"Beth davenport."
She put the note in an envelope and sealed it. Then she said to her
father:
"Papa, will you give this to Mr. Brown? He's to have one of Duke's
puppies if he wants it."
Mr. Davenport delivered the note as desired.
The next afternoon, Beth saw a buggy turn in at their place, and
presently she discerned Mr. Brown within it. She waited, half-bashful,
until he drove up.
He leaped from the buggy and raised his hat. Beth was delighted
because in every way he seemed so much improved.
"I've come for the puppy."
"It's in the barn, I'll get it for you," cried Beth, running there as
fast as she could.
Duke was playing with the puppies. When Beth appeared and took one he
followed her out, but at sight of his former owner, he stopped still.
Mr. Brown, however, called out pleasantly:
"Hello, Duke, I'm not going to take you away. Won't you come to me?
Come, nice dog."
Duke must have felt the transformation in his former master, for he
allowed Mr. Brown to pat him. Beth did not say a word, but held out
the puppy. Mr. Brown took it, and said a little brokenly:
"I'm not used to making nice speeches to little girls, but you're very
good to give this puppy to me."
"Why, it's nothing at all. Didn't you give me Duke?" murmured Beth.
He hesitated an instant. "But it means a great deal to me. It shows
that you trust me. Missy, I promise never to strike this one as long
as I have him. Good-bye."
Thereupon he jumped into the buggy and drove away.
Beth returned to the barn with Duke. January as usual was idling. He
had his fiddle and was playing "Dixie." Beth sat down on the hay near
him, while the dog family frolicked around her. She was happy, so
happy that from sheer light-heartedness she began to sing.
Duke pricked up his ears. White dog cocked her head to one side, and
the six puppies followed their parents' example. Duke uttered a low
deep howl that chimed in with Beth's singing. White dog howled in a
high soprano and the six little dogs did likewise, but in shriller
tones. Beth was so surprised that she stopped singing, and the dogs
immediately ceased howling, evidently waiting for Beth to lead them.
She began to sing again, and the dogs began to howl, swaying their
heads from side to side.
Their howling was so funny that Beth had to laugh, January joining in.
Beth then ran into the house for Mrs. Davenport.
"Mamma, come and hear the concert," she cried.
"What concert?"
"Come with me and you'll see, if they'll do it again. It's the
funniest singing you ever heard."
Beth led her mother to the barn.
"Where are the singers?" asked Mrs. Davenport.
"Wait," answered Beth, calling the dogs to her. Then she began singing
and the dogs began howling, holding their heads high in the air. Duke,
however, proved lazy. He would come in only once in a while with his
deep bass, but this made the effect more funny.
Mrs. Davenport laughed over the performance until her sides ached.
That afternoon Beth and the dogs had another concert for the benefit of
Mr. Davenport and Marian. In the evening the Gordons and the Bakers
called, and, hearing of the wonderful concert, they insisted upon a
repetition of it. The lantern was brought in, therefore, and, with
Beth heading the procession, the party adjourned to the barn. The dogs
were asleep, but at the first sound of Beth's shrill little voice, they
all, even to the smallest pup, pricked up their ears, and then howled
in concert. After that Beth's concert became famous. People drove out
from Jacksonville to see and hear the canine musicale. After a time
Beth trained the dogs so that they would sit up in a row on their hind
legs while they sang. They were apparently carried away by the music,
and appeared quite human in their vanity, swaying their bodies and
rolling their eyes in a very ludicrous manner, while howling an
accompaniment to Beth's singing.
[Illustration: January with his perpetual laugh and fiddle.]
Duke greatly endeared himself to the Davenports by his wonderful
sagacity. He could almost talk. One of the very smartest things he
ever did happened in this wise:
Beth had a sudden attack of fever.
"We must have a doctor," said Mrs. Davenport.
Beth overheard the remark. Since her experience of the stitches under
her nose, she hated all doctors; so she declared:
"I don't want any horrid doctor. I'll get well without one. Really I
will."
Mrs. Davenport laid a cooling hand on her head, and said soothingly:
"Can't you trust mamma to do what is best?"
Thereupon she gave private instructions to Mr. Davenport to get a
doctor as soon as possible, after which she neglected all work, trying
to keep Beth quiet.
Two little kittens, brothers of those brought by Gustus in the winter,
crawled up on the lounge ready for play. Even their antics tired Beth.
When the doctor came, he looked serious over the child's condition.
"She must be put to bed immediately," was his first order.
"I'll have her carried up-stairs," said Mrs. Davenport.
The doctor was a very blunt man and declared plainly:
"She's too sick to be moved. Have a bed brought in here if you can."
Without arguing the question, Mrs. Davenport ordered the servants to
bring down an iron cot. Her commands were carried out quietly and with
haste, and soon Beth was undressed and in bed. She was delirious by
this time, and did not even note that a doctor was present.
He studied the case silently for a few minutes. He was a well-meaning
man, but a doctor of the old school. He believed that if medicine was
a good thing, the more one took the better. Also, if dieting was good,
semi-starvation was better.
He therefore wrote out five or six prescriptions, all of very strong
drugs. He also ordered that she should be fed only on gruels.
Duke seemed to grieve over Beth's illness extremely. He would not play
with the puppies, and would eat hardly anything. At first, he walked
into the room where Beth was and lay down beside her cot. When he saw
he was in the way there, he took up his position on the piazza outside
the door, and could hardly be induced to move. Even white dog failed
to entice him away.
Anxious times followed for the Davenports. The fear of losing Beth
made each member of the family realize, as never before, how very dear
the little, mischievous child was to them. She was mischievous no
longer, however. She was so patient that Mrs. Davenport feared more
than ever that she would die. Often Beth would smile so beatifically
that her mother thought she must be thinking of angels and heaven.
"Dearie, of what are you thinking?" she once asked.
Beth's face was illumined with a more heavenly light than ever as she
drew a long breath and answered:
"Oh mamma, I was thinking how good some Bologna sausage, or anything
besides horrid old gruel, would taste."
The truth of the matter was that the child was half-starved. Still the
doctor insisted that she should have nothing but mutton or rice gruel,
and those only in very small quantities. Under such treatment she
wasted to a mere shadow of her former chubby self.
She proved a tyrant in one respect, in that she would have no one but
her mother to watch her. If Mrs. Davenport left the room when Beth was
awake, Beth at once worried herself into a high fever. The strain was
telling upon Mrs. Davenport, but so great was her anxiety that she
would hardly take needed rest.
One day Beth was asleep, and Maggie tip-toed into the room and
whispered to Mrs. Davenport:
"Dear Miss Mary, won't yo' please let dis ole mammy watch de honey lamb
for jes' a little while. Yo' knows I lub her wid all my heart, an' I
wouldn't let nuffin harm de pet for de world. Yo' go into de odder
room an' rest awhile. If de precious lamb wants yo', I'll call right
away, honest."
Thus urged, Mrs. Davenport decided to grant Maggie's request, and she
left the room without disturbing Beth's slumbers.
Maggie sat down by the cot. The sight of Beth so emaciated melted
Maggie almost to tears. She thus soliloquized:
"Dat horrid ole medicine man, he jes' ought to be made to live on
gruels de rest of his life, so he ought. It's jes' ter'ble to starve
de chile de way he does. I'd like to be her doctah awhile. I'd order
chicken and possum, an'----"
Suddenly Beth's eyes opened. "Maggie, what did you cook for dinner
to-day?"
Maggie confided to her husband afterwards:
"Law, Titus, does yo' tink I could sit up dar an' tell dat precious
chile we had chicken when I knew her little stomack was jes' groanin'
for chicken? No, 'deed. Do I am deaconess, I'd rather be burned for a
lie. So I jes' answers as pert-like as pos'ble. 'Law, honey, we jes'
had mutton like yo'r brof is made of.'"
Beth, however, was not to be deceived. Her senses had grown unusually
acute during her sickness. She pointed her finger at Maggie and said:
"Maggie, that's not true. You had chicken and biscuits, for I smelled
them. Oh, I'm so hungry."
Maggie sighed sympathetically. "Law, honey, would yo' like some brof?"
"Broth," repeated Beth almost in tears. "I hate broth. I'll starve
before I eat any more. I want chicken. Please, please get me some."
The appeal melted Maggie completely. She arose and called Duke from
the doorway.
"Duke," she said, pointing to the cot, "don't yo' let any one come near
missy till I come back. Do yo' understand?"
The delighted dog wagged his tail, and Maggie left the room.
Duke's first impulse was to rush up to the cot, and show his joy in
true dog fashion. He longed to cover Beth's face and hands with
kisses. He knew, however, that excitement was bad for her. He
therefore walked quietly up to the cot and laid his head down beside
his little playmate as if inviting a caress. She put a weak little
hand on his head.
"Yes, Dukie, I know you love me."
Maggie re-entered the room. In her hand was a plate, and on that plate
was a large slice of white chicken meat. Beth's eyes glistened at
sight of it.
"Dar, honey chile, dey jes' shan't starve yo' to death. Here am a
whole lot ob chicken for yo'."
Beth grabbed the plate. "Oh, Maggie, it's--it's heavenly."
Suddenly, Maggie heard Mrs. Davenport approaching. Her eyes rolled
tragically.
"Law, honey, it's yo'r maw. Hide de chicken under yo'r pillow. I'll
get rid of her, an' den yo' can eat de chicken in peace. Quick, honey,
or she'll take it away from yo'."
Beth put the plate with the chicken under her pillow. Maggie tried to
look unconcerned.
Mrs. Davenport entered the room. "Well, my dearie is awake, is she?"
"Oh, mamma, I'm so hungry. I do wish I could have a piece of chicken."
"No, no, dearie, that would never do. I'll get you some lovely mutton
broth."
Tears rose in Beth's eyes. "I don't want broth."
"Oh, yes, you do, dearie." Mrs. Davenport left the room to get the
broth. Maggie went to the bed and drew out the chicken.
"Quick, honey, yo' eat it while she's gone and she need neber know."
Beth's eyes feasted on the chicken for a second or two. She halfway
put out a hand for it, but quickly drew it back again.
"No, Maggie, it wouldn't be honorable."
"Law, child, yo'd bettah eat it. Yo'r maw'll find me with it, and den
she'll blame me."
Beth held out her hand for the plate. She looked at the chicken very
longingly, and Maggie thought that she had made up her mind to eat it.
She did take up the meat, but she held it out to Duke, saying:
"It'll be honorable for you to eat it. Duke, and then mamma'll never
blame Maggie. It was very nice of you, Maggie, to get it for me, but I
couldn't deceive mamma."
Duke gulped the meat down at one swallow much to the envy of Beth. She
held out the empty plate to Maggie.
"Take it away, Maggie. The smell of it makes me so dreadfully hungry."
Maggie took it and left the room, muttering:
"It's a ter'ble shame, a ter'ble shame."
Mrs. Davenport came in with the steaming broth.
"Here, dearie, is your broth."
Beth burst into tears. "I can't eat it. I just can't touch the horrid
stuff. Please take it away."
Her mother did not attempt to argue the question. That afternoon, when
the doctor came, she asked:
"Isn't there something else we can feed her on, doctor?"
He pondered for a moment. "Well, she seems to be improving a little,
and if we could get a bird or a rabbit we might make her some broth out
of that."
"I think rabbit broth would be delicious," cried Beth rapturously.
Mrs. Davenport said:
"We'll send January to town to see if we can get a rabbit or a quail."
An hour later January returned and reported: "Dere ain't no rabbit or
no bird in de market, Miss Mary."
Beth was very much disappointed, but was pacified, however, by the
assurance that darkies would be sent out to hunt rabbits in the
morning. She even consented to take a little rice gruel, cheered by
the prospects of having something better on the morrow.
In the morning, when the darkies were ready for hunting rabbits, Mrs.
Davenport said to Duke:
"Go with them, old fellow. Perhaps you can chase a rabbit down for
your little mistress. She wants a rabbit very, very much."
He seemed to understand, for he rose and went with the hunters. Rabbit
hunting was his favorite pastime. Therefore he displayed the first
signs of joy that he had shown since Beth's sickness. He bounded
lightly across the fields, sniffing the ground expectantly.
At first the darkies were encouraged by his manner, and followed him on
and on. When, however, they had gone many miles, and most of the
forenoon passed without Duke's scaring up a single rabbit for them,
they became discouraged. In fact, they returned to the house and
reported their ill-luck to Mrs. Davenport.
"I reckon dis ain't time for rabbits. We didn't see a single one all
dis time."
"Where is Duke?" asked Mrs. Davenport.
The darkies grinned. "Oh, dat fool dog, he ain't no sense at all. We
tried to get him to come wid us, but he went on sniffin' as if he was
jes' bound to have a rabbit, even when dar ain't none."
"Well," said Mrs. Davenport, with feeling, "I only wish you had half
the perseverance of Duke. If he could understand like you, he would go
until he dropped before he'd give up."
She therefore had to go to Beth and report their failure. The poor
child cried and cried, she was so very much disappointed.
"I'll--I'll starve, and I'm so terribly hungry," she moaned.
"Dearie, if you'll only take some gruel, I'll get you the most
beautiful doll you ever saw, or a ring, or anything you wish."
At the moment, even this promise failed in appealing to Beth. She
desired rabbit more than anything else in the world.
"Won't you please try some gruel, dear? Won't you, to please me?"
"I'll--I'll try, but I don't believe I can swallow a bit of the nasty
stuff. I want rabbit."
Mrs. Davenport hurried away to get the gruel.
Left to herself, Beth continued to cry.
"I don't believe God cares for me, or He'd have sent me a rabbit. I
asked Him last night when I prayed. Miss Smith"--her Sunday-school.
teacher--"says God always answers prayer if it is good for one, and I'm
sure rabbit is good for me."
The tears came a little faster.
"She says, though, one must ask awfully hard. Perhaps I don't ask hard
enough. I'll ask again."
Beth folded her hands and closed her eyes.
"Dear God, I can't eat gruel any more. I'll die if I have to eat
gruel, and I don't want to die. I want rabbit."
It would seem that the days of miracles had not passed; for even while
she prayed, she felt two paws rest on her cot. She opened her eyes and
there was Duke waiting impatiently for her to notice him. She could
hardly believe her eyes, for in his mouth he held a little live rabbit
as if for her to take it. To make sure she was not dreaming, she
stretched forth her hand for the rabbit. Duke let her take it without
offering the least resistance. In fact, he looked at her as much as to
say:
"I heard them say that my little mistress wanted a rabbit. I was bound
she should have a rabbit, and here it is."
Mrs. Davenport entered the room. "Here is your broth, dear."
"Take it away," cried Beth exultingly. "I'm going to have a rabbit.
God sent Duke to bring me one. Wasn't he good not to eat it
himself--he always used to eat them when he caught them, and God was so
good to me, too."
The speech appeared a little ambiguous to Mrs. Davenport, but it was
all very plain to the child.
Never did a stew seem more delicious to any one than did that rabbit
stew to Beth. In fact, it proved a turning point with her, the fever
subsiding thereafter very rapidly.