Part 11 (1/2)
”Say, Miss Nancy, what do you think of this here purple to set me off?”
asked Mr. Spain, as he held up the garment of his wife's desire. ”Betty says it'll match out her dimity, and I 'low to match Betty as long as I can.”
”It'll be the very thing, Mr. Spain,” I said, as I controlled my horror at the flaring-colored coat and reminded myself that harmony of domestic relations is greater than any harmony of art.
”Now, pick your coats and slip 'em on, all of you, so Nancy can judge you,”
commanded the general. In a very short time each man had got out of his overall jumper and into his heart's desire.
A stalwart, comely, clean-eyed group of American men they were as they stood on parade, clothed for the most part in seemly raiment, chosen with Uncle Silas's quiet taste, except in the case of Mr. Spain, where he had let his experience of the past lead his taste.
”Please, dear G.o.d, don't let them ever have to be put into khaki,” I prayed with a quick breath, for I knew, though they did not seem to recognize the fact, that this rally of the rural districts in the city hall was a part of the great program of preparedness that America was having forced upon her. I knew that the speech of the governor would be about the State militia and I knew that Evan Baldwin would talk to them about the mobilization of their stocks and crops. Quick tears flooded across my eyes, and I stretched out my hands to them.
”You all look good to me,” I faltered in some of Matthew's language, because I couldn't think of anything else to say but the prayer in my heart, and I didn't want to repeat that to them.
”Now, you have all pa.s.sed your city examinations, so you can get back to work. Remember, that day after to-morrow is the junket, and one day won't be any too much to bank up your fires to run until you come back,” said Aunt Mary in the way of dismissal.
”Talk about vanity in women folks? The first peac.o.c.k hatched out was of the male persuasion,” she remarked as we stood at the emporium door and watched the men dispersing, their bundles under their arms, each one making direct for his own front door. ”Every woman in Riverfield will have to put down needle and fry-pan and b.u.t.ter-paddle to feed them so plum full of compliments that they'll strut for a week. Bless my heart, honeybunch, we have all got to turn around twice in each track to get ready, and as I'm pretty hefty I must begin right now.” With this remark, Aunt Mary departed from the back door to her house on the hill and sent me out the front to Elmnest opposite.
”I thought that there was some reason why Pan and I both chose to wear Roycroft clothes. Mr. and Mrs. Spain are in love after eight children,” I remarked to myself happily. ”I am in agony in any shoes Pan doesn't make. I wonder if any woman ever before was as much in love with a man about whom she knew so little--and so much as I do about Adam.”
”I don't want to know about him--I want to love him,” I answered myself as I walked up the long elm avenue. Afterwards I recalled those words to myself, and they were bitter instead of sweet.
CHAPTER X
Friday, the twenty-first of April, I shall always remember as the busiest day of my life, for, as Aunt Mary had said, it takes time to bank fires enough to keep a farm alive a whole half day even if it is not running. I did all my usual work with my small folk, and then I measured and poured out in different receptacles their existence for the last half of the next day. After breakfast on Sat.u.r.day I finally decided upon Uncle Cradd as the most trustworthy person of the three ancients, one of whom I was obliged to depend upon for subst.i.tution. Rufus, I felt sure, would compromise by feeding every ration to the hogs, and I knew that he could persuade father to do likewise, but Uncle Cradd, I felt, would bring moral force to bear upon the situation.
”Now, Uncle Cradd, here are all the different feeds in different buckets, each plainly marked with the time to give it. Please, oh, please, don't let father lead you off into Egypt or China and forget them,” I said as I led him to the barn and showed him the mobilization of buckets that I had shut up in one of the empty bins.
”Why not just empty it all out on the ground in front of the barn, Nancy, my dear, and let them all feed together in friendly fas.h.i.+on. I am afraid you take these pretty whims of yours too seriously,” he said as he beamed affectionately at me over his large gla.s.ses.
”Because p.e.c.k.e.rwood Pup would eat up the Leghorn babies, and it would be extermination to some and survival to the most unfit,” I answered in despair. ”Oh, won't you please do it by the directions?”
”I will, my child, I will,” answered Uncle Cradd, as he saw that I was about to become tearful. ”I will come and sit right here in the barn with my book.”
”Oh, if you only will, Uncle Cradd, they will remind you when they are hungry. Mr. G. Bird will come and peck at you when it is time to feed his family, and the lambs and Mrs. Ewe will lick you, and p.e.c.k.e.rwood Pup will chew you, so you can't forget them,” I exclaimed in relief.
”That will be the exact plan for action, Nancy. You can always depend upon me for any of the small attentions that please you, my dear.”
”I can depend on the fur and feathers and wool tribes better than I can on you, old dear,” I said to myself, while I beamed on him with a dutiful, ”Thank you, sir.”
Then as Bud Corn-ta.s.sel had arrived to begin to hitch up the moth-eaten steeds to the ark, I ascended to my room to shed my farmer smocks, for the first time since my incarnation into them, and attire myself for the world again. The only garb of fas.h.i.+on I possessed, having sold myself out completely on my retirement, was the very stylish, dull-blue tailor suit in which I had traveled out the Riverfield ribbon almost three months before.
But as that had been mid-February, it was of spring manufacture, and I supposed would still be able to hold its own.
”It's perfectly beautiful, but it feels tight and hampering,” I said as I descended to enter the coach Bud had driven around to the front door.
”Will you give me a guarantee that you aren't just a dream lady I'll lose again in the city, Miss Nancy?” asked Bud, as he handed me into the Grandmother Craddock coach with great ceremony. Gale Beacon couldn't have done any better on such short notice.
”I'll be in smocks at feeding-time in the morning, Bud, just as you will be in overalls,” I answered laughingly.