Part 39 (2/2)
As David Eby measured the days before his departure he felt grateful to Mother Bab for refraining from long homilies of advice. Her whole life was a living epistle of truth and n.o.bility and she was wise enough to discern that what her son wanted most in their last days together was her customary cheerfulness--although he knew that at times the cheerfulness was a bit bluffed!
News travels fast, even in rural communities. The people on the Metz farm soon learned of David's loss of money and of his desire to enter the navy.
”Why didn't you tell me about the stock?” Phbe chided him.
”I couldn't. It knocked me out--it changed some of my plans. I knew you'd despise me and I couldn't stand that too that day.”
”Despise you! How foolish to think that. Of course it's better to earn your money, but I think you learned your lesson.”
”I have. I'll never try to get rich quick.”
”And you're going to war!” The words were almost a cry. ”What does Mother Bab say? How dreadful for her!”
”Dreadful?” he asked gently. ”Phbe, think a minute--would you rather be the mother of a soldier or sailor than the mother of a slacker?”
”I would,” she cried. ”A thousand times rather!” She clutched his sleeve in her old impetuous manner. ”I see now what it means, what war must mean to us! We must serve and be glad to do it. Your going is making it real for me. I'm proud of you and I know Mother Bab must be just about bursting with pride, for she always did think you are the grandest son in the wide world.”
”Phbe, you always stroke me with the grain.”
”That sounds as if you were a wooden p.u.s.s.y-cat,” she said merrily. ”But you are just being funny to hide your deeper feelings. I know you, David Eby! Bet your heart's like lead this minute!”
”'I have no heart,'” he quoted. ”'The place where my heart was you could roll a turnip in.'”
She laughed, then suddenly grew sober. ”I've been horribly selfish,” she said. ”Having fine clothes and a good time and dreaming of fame through my voice have taken all my time during the past winter. I have taken only the husks of life and discarded the kernels. I'm ashamed of myself.”
”You mustn't condemn yourself too much. It's natural to pa.s.s through a period when those things seem the greatest things in the world, but if we do not shake off their influence and see the need of having real things to lay hold on we need to be jolted. I was money-mad, but I had my jolt.”
”Then we can both make a fresh beginning. And we'll try hard to be worthy of Mother Bab, won't we, David?”
David was mute; he could merely nod his head in answer. Worthy of Mother Bab--what a goal! How sweet the name sounded from Phbe's lips! Should he tell her of his love for her? He looked into her face. Her eyes were like clear blue pools but they mirrored only sisterly affection, he thought. Ah, well, he would be unselfish enough to go away without telling of the hope of his heart. If he came back there would be ample time to tell her; it was needless to bind her to a long-absent lover. If he came back crippled--if he never came back at all---- Oh, why delve into the future!
CHAPTER x.x.x
THE FEAST OF ROSES
IN the little town of Greenwald there is performed each year in June an interesting ceremony, the Feast of Roses.
The origin of it dates back to the early colonial days when wigwam fires blazed in many clearings of this great land and Indians, fas.h.i.+oned after the similitude of bronze images, stole among the stalwart trees of the primeval forests. In those days, about the year 1762, a tract of land containing the present site of the little town of Greenwald fell into the hands of a German, who was so charmed by the fertility and beauty of the fields encircled by the winding Chicques Creek that he laid out a town and proceeded to build. The erection of those early houses entailed much labor. Bricks were imported from England and hauled from Philadelphia to the new town, a distance of almost one hundred miles.
Some time later the founder built a gla.s.s factory in the new town, reputed to have been the first of its kind in America. Skilled workmen were imported to carry on the work, and marvelously skilful they must have been, as is proven by the articles of that gla.s.s still extant. It is delicately colored, daintily shaped, when touched with metal it emits a bell-like ring, and altogether merits the praise accorded it by every connoisseur of rare and beautiful gla.s.s.
Tradition claims that the founder of that town was of n.o.ble birth, but his right to a t.i.tle is not an indisputable fact. It is known, however, that he lived in baronial style in his new town. His red brick mansion was a treasure house of tapestries, tiles and other beautiful furnis.h.i.+ngs.
However, whether he was a baron or an unt.i.tled man, he merits a share of admiration. He was founder of a gla.s.s factory, builder of a town, founder of iron works, religious and secular instructor of his employees and citizens, and earnest philanthropist.
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