Happy House Part 17

They haven't paid enough attention to the small farmers. Of course, they try out some good things and publish bulletins, but the farmers ought to _know_ how, by certain scientific changes, the productiveness of the land can be doubled! Take Judson, here. He's been farming this whole place just the way his grandfather did before him! He's read about new-fangled things, but he's afraid to try them--he doesn't know how to begin! Think how many Judsons there are all over the world! So I'm trying to show him by actually working out some experiments I've tested. If it's a success, if his account at the bank at North Hero shows it at the end of the season--why, there isn't anything Judson will be afraid to try. And think what it would mean to this country if it had a million farmers like Judson! And see how easily they can be shown!"

Nancy's face was alight with enthusiasm. With her vivid imagination she pictured a glorious army of Peter Hydes going out over the land, rescuing the poor farmers, putting new weapons into their hands!

"It's wonderful! And it's--brave!" she added, "because it isn't as if you went off with a whole lot of others with bands and flags flying!"

She was suddenly struck with remorse that she had, in her heart, so wronged Peter Hyde! She had thought him a slacker when he had shouldered the harder task! Something in the earnestness still reflected on his face made her own her guilt.

"I can't be glad _enough_ you've told me all this! I didn't know! I never lived in the country. I just thought things to eat grew up any old way. And all this time I have been thinking horrid things about you because I thought you hadn't gone to war! I thought, maybe, you were way off up here to escape the feeling everyone had for slackers!

You can imagine, now, when I see what you really _are_ doing, how ashamed I feel! Will you forgive me?"

Peter's frank amus.e.m.e.nt made Nancy feel very uncomfortable and small.

But then she deserved it! He held out his hand as a sign of his forgiveness. There was still laughter in his eyes as he regarded her.

"I suppose that was very natural! Most of the young fellows you know must have gone over!" he said, seriously enough.

She wanted very much to tell him of her father--how he had followed the men over the top; how he had worked day after day getting the stories back to the people at home and spent night after night tracing the "missing," or writing letters for the boys who never got further back than the first dressing-stations and who wanted mothers and fathers and sweethearts to know that they'd had their chance and had made the most of it! But she couldn't, for she was supposed to be Anne and Anne's father had died when she was a little girl.

She told him of a few of the college men she had known, who had gone, eagerly, at the first call.

"They didn't even want to wait to get commissions! _They_ just wanted to fight!"

The revelation of Peter Hyde made her think of Claire's brother. She told him about Claire and Anne--she called Anne, vaguely, "another girl." "Claire's a darling and we just love her, but we can't _abide_ her brother! Of course it's not reasonable, because we've never laid eyes on him, but we've heard enough from Claire to know just what he's like. I suppose the war made a few like him--he was brave enough over there and lucky to have all his recommendations recognized, but it made him _so_ conceited! He came back here and just strutted around, everywhere. Claire says her mother's friends used to have _teas_ for him--he'd go to them and speak and show his medals! Claire was mad over him. She was so disappointed because I came here instead of going to Merrycliffe. But I couldn't see myself spending my time petting her beloved Lion! I knew I'd be rude and say just what I thought."

Nancy and Peter were sitting upon the stump of a tree near the cliff.

Peter suddenly rose and walked to the edge--his back square to Nancy.

After a moment he turned.

"Thought I heard something down there," he explained, at her questioning glance. "Don't blame you for disliking that sort--like Claire's brother! They're a rummy kind! I had a friend a lot like him. But--maybe, it wasn't all his fault--about the teas and things!

Maybe his mother got 'em started and he didn't want to hurt her!"

It was like Peter Hyde, so gentle with children and animals, to stand up now for even Barry Wallace's kind.

"You're just like Dad," Nancy cried warmly, then stopped, a little frightened. But of course Peter had not been in Freedom long enough to know anything about the Leavitts.

He bowed with great ceremony, one hand over his heart.

"If Dad's like daughter, I thank you for the compliment. Now, if you will linger longer with me I'd like to show you Mrs. Sally and her babies. Sally is my experimental pig. I've built a piggery for her with a plunge and a sunken garden, and if you don't declare that Sally enjoys such improved surroundings, I'll know my whole summer's work's a failure."

Nancy walked over the rough ground toward the barns with a light heart.

She had a delightful sense of being "pals" with this new Peter Hyde--who, while the Barry Wallaces were swaggering around with their medals, was up here in an out-of-the-way corner of the nation, fighting a new sort of a fight! He actually _wanted_ her approval of his new piggery!

CHAPTER XVI

PETER LENDS A HAND

It was quite natural that Nancy should take her problems to Peter Hyde.

More correctly, she did not take them--Peter Hyde discovered them when, a few days later, he found Nancy alone in her Bird's-nest, completely surrounded by sheets of paper, a frown wrinkling her entire face, furiously chewing one end of her pencil.

There had, of course, to be some explanation of the ma.n.u.script. Nancy told him of the play she was writing, how she had really come to North Hero to finish it!

"I thought I'd have hours and hours to work. And I was so glad when I found this hiding place. I've been here, now, weeks and weeks, and have done scarcely a thing!"

"Is it because the Muse will not come?" asked Peter, eying the scattered sheets with awe.

"Oh, it would _come_--if it had a chance! My head's just bursting with things I want to write and I dream about them in my sleep. But--it sounds silly--I'm so busy. Maybe the things I do don't seem important but I just can't escape them."

She made room for Peter on the seat beside her. Then she told him of Aunt Milly; of that first trip to the orchard, how it had been the beginning of a new life for the little woman.

"I bring her downstairs every day now, right after breakfast, and she's one of the family. I'm going to coax Webb to make another sort of a chair; one she can wheel herself--I've seen them. She's learned to knit beautifully; she's so proud because she's working on a sock for the Belgian children--she says it's the first time she's _ever_ felt useful! She helps B'lindy, too. It makes you want to cry to see how happy she is. But with all her independence she wants me all the time.

When I start to leave her there's something in the way she looks at me that is just as though she reached out and caught me by the hand!"

Nancy described, too, how B'lindy was constantly finding little tasks for her that would keep her in the kitchen or on the back porch within sound of her voice.

"You see talking's the joy of B'lindy's life and my ears are new--they haven't heard all the things she has to say. Just when I think I can escape she begins telling me of the cake her mother baked for Miss Sabrina's mother the day the Governor of Vermont came to Happy House--or something like that!"

Anxious that Peter should understand everything Nancy made a vivid word-picture of Miss Sabrina and of the difficulties she had had in winning her. "I believe she's fond of me now, but she just doesn't know _how_ to show it! She's never displayed one bit of affection in her whole life, I'm sure. She's stone. But sometime she's going to break--I'm doing my best to make her! I know she enjoys having dear little Aunt Milly around, but do you think she'd say so? Goodness no.

But there's a lot of good in Aunt Sabrina and I'm bound to know it all, so I make it my duty to sit with her just so long each day while she tells me about the Leavitts and the other families of this Island. And there _is_ something heroic about them all!

"So here I am, just tingling to finish the last act of my play and not a moment to myself! If it isn't precious Aunt Milly or Aunt Sabrina or B'lindy or even dear old Jonathan, it's Nonie or Davy or----"

"Or me," finished Peter Hyde, glancing significantly at the neglected work. "Your hands _are_ full!"

Nancy went on earnestly. "And it all seems so worth while! Look at Nonie--she's a different creature already. I don't believe she pretends as much, either--her little body is catching up with her spirit. And Davy doesn't hang his head when he looks at you!"

Peter Hyde could understand her feeling toward the children. They had planned together to bring something more into those two starved young lives. Like Nancy, he was delighted at the results already apparent.

It _was_ work too worth while to be abandoned--for anything.

"Nonie fairly eats up the books I give her but she always wants to read them with me--it's so that she can ask questions. And the questions she asks! Every new thing she learns she immediately adapts to her own life. We've begun 'Little Women' and of course she plays Amy! Poor little flower, sometimes I think of old Dan'l and Liz and wonder from where on earth the child got her gift. And what a precious blessing it is to her!"

Recalling Davy's contempt for his sister's "actin' lies," they both laughed.

"How could _anyone_ think bad things of Davy," cried Nancy, indignantly. "He's the soul of truth and honor! But up here he won't have a chance."

"Oh, yes, he will!" Peter contradicted. "If I'm any good reading character in a ten-year-old he'll _make_ a chance. He's a leader, now.

Look at the way the other boys follow his slightest suggestion!"

Davy's "club" was flouris.h.i.+ng. The attractions that Peter and Nancy had added to its program had made it boom. Several new "fellars" had come in. The meetings were even more frequent than Liz cleaned the meeting-house, and now, because it had become known that Miss Sabrina's niece was a member of the club, no lickings awaited the members upon their return, rather impatient mothers eager to hear "what that girl at Happy House was up to now." There was some talk about turning the club into a Boy Scout troop; Mr. Peter had promised to organize them and train them.

"Oh, dear," Nancy sighed, perplexed and torn, "it's like having a dream you've dreamed crumble all to pieces! I wanted to have my play done before my--I mean, I wanted to finish it up here and then send it straight to Theodore Hoffman himself. Of course you don't know him.

He's one of the greatest dramatists and play producers in the world. I know it's daring in me and maybe he won't even give a minute to my little insignificant effort, but--whatever he may say, I'll know it is the best criticism I can get!"

To Nancy's surprise Peter displayed a considerable knowledge of plays and actors, critics and producers. He could see her problem, too--how she was torn between the claims of Happy House and her beloved work.

Nancy was grateful for his sympathy and because he did not laugh at her. But of course, why should anyone who could find music in waving corn not understand her own dreams!