Part 8 (1/2)
David handed Barnabas his pipe and gave Jud a letter which he opened wonderingly, uttering a cry of pleasure when he realized the contents.
”It's an order on Harkness to let me pick out any rifle in his store.
How did he know? Did you tell him, Dave?”
”Yes,” was the quiet reply.
”Thank you, Dave. I'll ride right down and get it, and we'll go to the woods this afternoon and shoot at a mark.”
”All right,” agreed David heartily.
The atmosphere was now quite cleared by the proposed expenditure of ammunition, and M'ri experienced the sensation as of one beholding a rainbow.
David then turned his undivided attention to his own big package, which contained twelve books, his name on the fly-leaf of each.
Robinson Crusoe, Swiss Family Robinson, Andersen's Fairy Tales, Arabian Nights, Life of Lincoln, Black Beauty, Oliver Twist, A Thousand Leagues under the Sea, The Pathfinder, Gulliver's Travels, Uncle Tom's Cabin, and Young Ranchers comprised the selection. His eyes gleamed over the enticing t.i.tles.
”You shall have some book shelves for your room, David,” promised M'ri, ”and you can start your library. Joe has made a good foundation for one.”
His eyes longed to read at once, but there were still the two packages, marked ”Uncle Larimy” and ”Miss Rhody,” to deliver.
”I can see that Uncle Larimy has a fis.h.i.+ng rod, but what do you suppose he has sent Rhody?” wondered M'ri.
”A black silk dress. I told him she wanted one.”
”Take it right over there, David. She has waited almost a lifetime for it.”
”Let me take Uncle Larimy's present,” suggested Jud, ”and then I'll ask him to go shooting with us this afternoon.”
David amicably agreed, and went across fields to Miss Rhody's.
”Land sakes!” she exclaimed, looking at the parcel. ”M'ri ain't a-goin' to hev another dress so soon, is she?”
”No, Miss Rhody. Some one else is, though.”
”Who is it, David?” she asked curiously.
”You see Joe Forbes sent some presents from Chicago, and this is what he sent you.”
”A calico,” was her divination, as she opened the package.
”David Dunne!” she cried in shrill, piping tones, a spot of red on each cheek. ”Just look here!” and she stroked lovingly the l.u.s.trous fold of s.h.i.+ning silk.
”And if here ain't linings, and thread, and sewing silk, and hooks and eyes! Why, David Dunne, it can't be true! How did he know--David, you blessed boy, you must have told him!”
Impulsively she threw her arms about him and hugged him until he ruefully admitted to himself that she had Jud ”beat on the clutch.”
”And say, David, I'm a-goin' to wear this dress. I know folks as lets their silks wear out a-hangin' up in closets. Don't get half as many cracks when it hangs on yourself. I b'lieve as them Episcopals do in lettin' yer light s.h.i.+ne, and I never wuz one of them as b'lieved in savin' yer best to be laid out in. Oh, Lord, David, I kin jest hear myself a-rustlin' round in it!”
”Maybe you'll get a husband now,” suggested David gravely.
”Mebby. I'd orter ketch somethin' with this. I never see sech silk.