Happy House Part 24

"For Heaven's sake, stop! When all my life I've been looking for a girl with brown hair that looks sort of red and freckles--about three thousand of them!"

"Peter!" Nancy sprang precipitously to her feet. "Look--there is a storm coming!"

B'lindy's threatened storm was approaching swiftly. The black cloud that had been piling up behind them now overspread the whole western sky. "What a shame--to have it spoil our day! This has been such fun.

I'll never forget it, after I've gone." Then, hastily, "Gather up the napkins and the baskets; I promised B'lindy I'd bring them home! Isn't there a short cut home? I'm really dreadfully afraid of lightning."

But she had caught something in the expression of Peter Hyde's face that frightened her more than the threatened storm.

"Let's hurry," she cried, running unceremoniously to the automobile.

CHAPTER XXI

DAVY'S GIFT

Real need recognizing no distinction of cla.s.s, it had been Liz Hopworth who had been summoned to the Hopkins home when Mrs. Hopkins "dropped off" in the middle of the night, leaving ten children motherless.

Over Dan'l's late breakfast Liz, wan-eyed from loss of sleep, but dignified by a new importance, related all the sad circ.u.mstances of poor Sarah Hopkins' pa.s.sing. "Who'd a' _thought_," she exclaimed as she vigorously beat her pan-cake batter, "yesterday when I see the poor woman out a hangin' her clothes that this blessed night I'd a' been called in to straighten her limbs and do for those poor young 'uns!"

To Nonie and Davy death was a strangely mysterious thing which they took for granted; dogs and cats and calves died; frequently there was a burial in the village cemetery. These had always had an element of excitement which even stirred the Hopworth home, detached though it was from the village life. They looked at Liz, now, with wide eager eyes.

To have "straightened poor Sarah Hopkins' limbs" seemed to have transformed her--her tone was kinder, something almost tender gleamed in her tired eyes, and she was making pan-cakes for their breakfast!

"Just fetch that grease, Nonie. Step spry, too--there's a lot to be done before this day's over. Lordy, I thought to myself last night, that the Lord strikes hard--leavin' those ten children that haven't done no wrong without any mother to manage and Timothy Hopkins sittin'

there as helpless like he'd been hit over the head, he's that stunned.

And scarcely a bite in the house."

Old Dan'l had long since gotten past the day of worrying over the ways of the Lord. Nor to him was there anything particularly startling in a lack of food. His had always been a philosophy that believed that from somewhere or other Providence would provide, and if it didn't--

"Scarcely a bite, and all steppin' on one another, there's so many of 'em, and then when I think o' Happy House and the plenty there's there, well, 's I say, the Lord's ways are beyond _me_! Eat up your breakfast, Nonie. You gotta do up the work here, for I told that poor man I'd come back quick as ever I could. There's no end of work to be done 'fore that place will look fit for folks to come and see her."

"Can I go, too, Liz?" asked Davy. "Mebbe I can help."

Normally Liz would have made a sharp retort. Now she considered a moment.

"Mebbe you can. You can play with the baby so's Jennie can help me sweep and dust. Sarah Hopkins would turn over if she thought folks was goin' to see the muss and litter. Hurry along."

All that Liz had said of the house of mourning had been true. Davy found the muss and litter; the poor smithy wandering helplessly around and the "young 'uns" stepping on one another. He shut his eyes tight so that he would not have to catch the tiniest glimpse of poor Sarah Hopkins lying very still in the bedroom off the kitchen. He was glad when Liz, in a strangely brisk tone, bade Jennie, the oldest Hopkins girl, give the baby over to Davy.

"He's come 'long to mind the baby, so's you can help. Take him outside, Davy, and keep him out from under foot. Take up these dishes!

Sure's I'm livin' I see Mrs. Sniggs comin' up the road this blessed minit."

Davy, gathering up his charge, retreated hastily. In fact, his pace did not slacken until he was well away from the Hopkins home. Then he put his burden down under a tree and stared at it.

The baby, blissfully unconscious of its loss, cooed ecstatically to express his joy at the unusual attention. He reached out tiny hands to Davy. "Go----go!" he gurgled, coaxingly.

"You sit right there! I gotta think," was Davy's scowling answer.

And Davy was thinking--hard. Liz' story, over the breakfast, had sunk deep into his soul. _He_ knew what it was to live in a household where there was no mother and not much food!

It did not take Davy very long to make up his mind. Then, with determination written in every wrinkle of his frowning face, he lifted the baby and hurried to his home. An hour later, still carrying the baby, he trudged doggedly up the road to Happy House, through the gate, along the path to the door. Only for a moment did he pause on the threshold; then, softly opening the door, he entered, and came out again, empty-armed.

The oppressiveness of the day had decidedly ruffled the atmosphere of Happy House. Miss Sabrina had taken the news of Nancy's flight with a disapproving grunt; B'lindy had sharply come to Nancy's defense. She "guessed girls had to be girls anyways, though she'd a feelin' in her bones that somethin' might happen and one never could tell 'bout them pesky machines."

Then Miss Sabrina, taller and straighter than ever, had walked haughtily away as far as the sitting room, when a shriek brought B'lindy running.

Miss Sabrina had dropped breathless into a chair and at her feet sat the Hopkins baby sucking its thumb.

"B'lindy--what--what is it? I liked to fall over it!"

"Land a' goshen--a _baby_! A _real_ live baby!" B'lindy leaned over cautiously. "Crawled in here like a caterpillar! As I live, here's a note, Miss Sabrina!" She unpinned a piece of paper from the baby's dress.

"Ples kep this child there ante enuf food fer so meny Hopkins Liz sez and she sez the Lord never ment any body to go hungry she sez your hous is big enuf fer a dusen and lots of food I gues you don't no thet ther ar so meny Hopkins and you will like to kepe this one I no how it hurts to be hungry so ples don't send this baby bak. Yours truly, Davy."

B'lindy, after reading the note aloud, stared at the baby.

"Sarah Hopkins' young 'un--I swan!" With her ap.r.o.n she wiped a tear from her eye. "No one to do for it now."

Miss Sabrina snorted.

"Of all the nerve--bringing it here--for me to break my neck on!"

From above came Miss Milly's voice plaintively calling.

"Take it away. Milly's calling--she's got to know what the excitement's about. I'll _never_ get over my fright," and Miss Sabrina, still trembling, rose to go to her sister. The baby puckered his face preparatory to a long wail. "Take it _out_," commanded Miss Sabrina, "it's going to cry--_give_ it something quick."

B'lindy s.n.a.t.c.hed the baby and flew to the kitchen. She could not bear to think that any living thing in Happy House was hungry. However, the threatened squall pa.s.sed when B'lindy, after carefully shutting her doors, produced a bowl and a s.h.i.+ny spoon.

It had not been alone Miss Sabrina's shriek that had frightened Miss Milly. She had heard a rumble of thunder. She was lying back among her pillows deadly pale. She clutched Miss Sabrina's hand and begged her to stay with her.

"I know I'm foolish," she whispered plaintively, "but it's so oppressive. It's hard--for me--to breathe."

Sabrina sat down grimly beside her--no thunder storm came to North Hero that it did not bring unpleasant memories to them both.

"Is it--going to be--very bad?" Miss Milly asked plaintively. "I wish Nancy--was home."

"Maybe it'll go around," a.s.sured her sister with as much tenderness as she was capable of showing.

At that moment the door opened slowly and B'lindy, a strangely softened look on her old face tip-toed in, carrying in her arms the baby, sound asleep.

"I just brought it up for Miss Milly to see, it's that cute!" she explained, in a whisper.

"The poor little thing," Aunt Milly timidly touched the moist chubby hand. B'lindy, with the air of having accomplished some great feat, laid the baby carefully upon the couch.

"Fed its _poor_ little stomick and it dropped right off to sleep--it'll forget things now," she said proudly.

With a different feeling in each of their hearts the three women stared for a moment at the sleeping baby. Miss Sabrina spoke first. Her voice was cold and crisp.

"Take that baby right out of here, B'lindy, and get Jonathan to carry it back where it came from."