Part 20 (2/2)

Gram sat and fanned herself, fast and hard. Our visitor folded the dress into a bundle and marched slowly and austerely out.

”Olive, I hope your conscience is clear,” Gram called after her severely.

”Ruth, I hope your conscience is as clear as mine,” the departing one called back in calm tones, from the yard outside.

She left an awkward silence behind her; breakfast had come to a standstill; and I improved the elemental sort of hush, to whisper to Theodora, who had been at the farm a year, and ask who this portentous disturber of the family credit really was.

”Oh, it is only 'Aunt Olive,'” Theodora whispered back. ”She comes here to help us every spring and fall.”

”Is she our actual aunt?” I asked in some dismay.

”No, she isn't our real, kindred aunt,” said Theodora, ”but folks call her Aunt Olive. She is a sister to Elder Witham; and they say she can quote more Scripture than the Elder himself.

”And I'm sort of glad that Gramp gave her the dollar,” Theodora added, in a still lower whisper. ”Maybe Gram did forget to pay her, once.”

But Gram was both incensed and humiliated. She resumed the interrupted coffee pouring and handed the Old Squire his cup, with a look of deep reproach.

Partly to change the unpleasant subject, perhaps, he said to us briskly, ”Boys, if we have good luck and get our haying work along, so we can, we will all make a trip over to Norridgewock and see Father Rasle's monument.

”Ruth, wouldn't you like to take a good long drive over to Norridgewock, after the grain is in?” he asked in pacificatory tones.

”Joseph!” replied Gram, ”you make me smile! You have been talking of driving over to Norridgewock to visit Father Rasle's monument, and of going to Lovewell's Pond, ever since I first knew you! But you never have been, and I haven't a thought that you ever will go!”

”Well, but something has always come up to prevent it, Ruth,” Gramp replied hastily.

”Yes, Joseph, and something will come up to prevent it this year, too.”

It was at this point that the second early caller had his arrival announced. Little Wealthy, who had stolen out to watch Aunt Olive's departure and then gone to the barn to see to her own small brood of chicks, came running in headlong and cried, ”Oh, Gram! Gram! a great big fox has got one of your geese--on his back--and is running away!”

”What!” exclaimed Gram, setting the heavy coffee-pot down again with a roiling b.u.mp. ”Oh, Lord, what a morning. Where, child, where?”

”Out beyond the west barn!” cried Wealthy; but by this time Addison, Halse and I were out of doors, in pursuit.

Beyond the west barn, there was a little hollow, or swale, where a spring issued; and a few rods below the spring, a dam had been constructed across the swale to form a goose-pond for Gram's flock. It was a muddy, ill-smelling place; but hither the geese would always waddle forth of a summer morning, and spend most of the day, wading and swimming, with occasional loud outcries.

As we turned the corner of the barn, we met the flock--minus one--beating a retreat to the goose-shed. But the fox was not in sight.

”Which way did he go, Wealth?” cried Addison, for Wealthy had run after us, full of her important news.

”Right across the west field,” she exclaimed. ”He had the old goose on his back, and it was trying to squall, but couldn't.”

”Get the gun, Halse!” exclaimed Addison. ”No, it isn't loaded! Bother!

But come on. The fox cannot run far with one of those heavy geese, without resting. He is probably behind the pasture wall.”

We set off at speed across the field and heard Gram calling out to us, ”Chase him, boys! Chase the old thief. You may make him drop it.”

Away through the gra.s.s, laden with dew and ”hopper spits,” we careered, and came on the trail of the fox where he had brushed off the dew as he ran. But the rogue was not behind the pasture wall.

<script>