Part 14 (1/2)
”I think that's a very nice way of getting acquainted. Won't you let me kiss you good-night when you get sleepy.”
She looked at me with a doubtful smile, and said, ”I'm afraid thy mustache will tickle me.”
The birds were singing in the orchard near, but there was not a note that to my ear was more musical than Miss Warren's laugh. I stooped down before the little girl as I said:
”Suppose we see if a kiss tickles you now, and if it don't now, you won't mind it then, you know.”
She came hesitatingly to me, and gave the coveted salute with a delicious mingling of maidenly shyness and childish innocence and frankness.
”Ah!” I exclaimed, ”Eden itself contained nothing better than that. To think that I should have been so honored--I who have written the records of enough crimes to sink a world!”
”Perhaps if you had committed some of them she wouldn't have kissed you.”
”If I had to live in a ninety-nine story tenement-house, as so many do, I think I would have committed them all. Well, I may come to it. Life is a risky battle to such as I, but I'm in heaven now.”
”You do seem very happy,” she said, looking at me wistfully.
”I am very happy. I have given myself up wholly to the influences of this day, letting them sway me, lead me whithersoever they will. If this is a day of destiny, no stupid mulishness of mine shall thwart the happy combination of the stars. That the Fates are propitious I have singular reason to hope. Yesterday I was a broken and dispirited man.
This evening I feel the influence of all this glad June life. Good Mrs.
Yocomb has taken me in hand. I'm to study topography with a teacher who has several other b.u.mps besides that of locality, and Zillah is going to show us the garden of Eden.”
”Is this like the garden of Eden?” the little girl asked, looking up at me in surprise.
”Well, I'm not sure that it's just like it, but I'm more than content with this garden. In one respect I think it's better--there are no snakes here. Now, Zillah, lead where you please, I'm in the following mood. Do you know where any of these birds live? Do you think any of them are at home on their nests? If so, we'll call and pay our respects. When I was a horrid boy I robbed a bird's nest, and I often have a twinge of remorse for it.” ”Do you want to see a robin's nest?”
asked Zillah excitedly.
”Yes, indeed.”
”Then come and walk softly when I do. There's one in that lilac-bush there. If we don't make a noise, perhaps we can see mother robin on the nest. Sh--, sh--, very softly; now lift me up as father did--there, don't you see her?”
I did for a moment, and then the bird flew away on a swift, silent wing, but from a neighboring tree the paternal robin clamored loudly against our intrusion. Nevertheless, Zillah and I peeped in.
”Oh, the queer little things!” she said, ”they seem all mouth and swallow.”
”Mrs. Robin undoubtedly thinks them lovely. Miss Warren, you are not quite tall enough, and since I can't hold you up like Zillah, I'll get a box from the tool-house. Isn't this the jolliest housekeeping you ever saw? A father, mother, and six children, with a house six inches across and open to the sky. Compare that with a Fifth Avenue mansion!”
”I think it compares very favorably with many mansions on the Avenue,”
she said, after I returned with a box and she had peered for a moment into the roofless home.
”I thought you always spoke the truth,” I remarked, a.s.suming a look of blank amazement.
”Well, prove that I don't.”
”Do you mean to say that you think that a simple house, of which this nest is the type, compares favorably with a Fifth Avenue mansion?”
”I do.”
”What do you know about such mansions?”
”I have pupils in some of the best of them.”