Part 6 (1/2)

Arent you hateful! said Janet.

Not at all. Just appreciative. But now, if you havent any _other_ plan, well go back to bed.

It was half-past eight when we waked next morning. But there was nothing to wake up for. The old house was filled with the rain-noises that only such an old house knows. On the little windows the drops p.r.i.c.ked sharply; in the fireplace with the straight flue they fell, hissing, on the embers.

On the porch roofs the rain made a dull patter of sound; on the tin roof of the little attic over the kitchen it beat with flat resonance. In the big attic, when we went up to see if all was tight, it filled the place with a mult.i.tudinous clamor; on the sides of the house it drove with a fury that re-echoed dimly within doors.

Outside, everything was afloat. We visited the trees and viewed with consternation the torrents of rain-water pouring into the pails. We tried fastening pans over the spouts to protect them. The wind blew them merrily down the road. It would have been easy enough to cover the pails, but how to let the sap drip in and the rain drip outthat was the question.

It seems as if there was a curse on the syrup this year, said Janet.

The trouble is, I said, I know just enough to have lost my hold on the fools Providence, and not enough really to take care of myself.

Superst.i.tion! said Janet.

What do you call your idea of the curse? I retorted. Anyway, I have an idea! Look, Janet! Well just cut up these enamel-cloth table-covers here by the sink and everywhere, and tack them around the spouts.

Janets thrifty spirit was doubtful. Dont you need them?

Not half so much as the trees do. Come on! Pull them off. Well have to have fresh ones this summer, anyway.

We stripped the kitchen tables and the pantry and the milk-room. We got tacks and a hammer and scissors, and out we went again. We cut a piece for each tree, just enough to go over each pair of spouts and protect the pail. When tacked on, it had the appearance of a neat bib, and as the pattern was a blue and white check, the effect, as one looked down the road at the twelve trees, was very fresh and pleasing. It seemed to cheer the people who drove by, too.

But the bibs served their purpose, and the sap dripped cozily into the pails without any distraction from alien elements. Sap doesnt run in the rain, they say, but this sap did. Probably Hiram was right, and you cant tell. I am glad if you cant. The physical mysteries of the universe are being unveiled so swiftly that one likes to find something that still keeps its secretthough, indeed, the spiritual mysteries seem in no danger of such enforcement.

The next day the rain stopped, the floods began to subside, and Jonathan managed to arrive, though the roads had even less bottom to em than before. The sun blazed out, and the sap ran faster, and, after Jonathan had fully enjoyed them, the blue and white bibs were taken off. Somehow in the clear March suns.h.i.+ne they looked almost shocking. By the next day we had syrup enough to try for sugar.

For on sugar my heart was set. Syrup was all very well for the first year, but now it had to be sugar. Moreover, as I explained to Janet, when it came to sugar, being absolutely ignorant, I was again in a position to expect the aid of the fools Providence.

How much _do_ you know about it? asked Janet.

Oh, just what people say. It seems to be partly like fudge and partly like mola.s.ses candy. You boil it, and then you beat it, and then you pour it off.

Ive got more to go on than that, said Jonathan. I came up on the train with the Judge. He used to see it done.

Youve got to drive Janet over to her train to-night; Hiram cant, I said.

All right. Theres time enough.

We sat down to early supper, and took turns running out to the kitchen to try the syrup as it boiled down. At least we said we would take turns, but usually we all three went. Supper seemed distinctly a side issue.

Im going to take it off now, said Jonathan. Look out!

Do you think its time? I demurred.

Well know soon, said Jonathan, with his usual composure.

We hung over him. Now you beat it, I said. But he was already beating.

Get some cold water to set it in, he commanded. We brought the dishpan with water from the well, where ice still floated.

Maybe you oughtnt to stir so muchdo you think? I suggested, helpfully.