Added Upon Part 11

The man moved off, but turned again. "Have you had any supper?" he asked.

"No; but I do not care for anything to eat, thank you."

"Strange tramp, that," said the man to himself, "not to want anything to eat. Well, go into the shanty and warm yourself, anyway."

In the shanty, Rupert found an old stove glowing with a hot fire, by the side of which he seated himself. The night was chilly in that high alt.i.tude, and Rupert spread out his palms to the warmth. Inside the house, he heard the rattle of dishes and the voices of women. Then strains of songs floated out to him, and he became an intent listener.

Soon from out the humming came two sweet voices, singing. Rupert sat as one spellbound, as the song seemed to melt into his soul:

"O my Father, thou that dwellest In the high and glorious place!

When shall I regain thy presence, And again behold thy face?

In thy holy habitation, Did my spirit once reside; In my first primeval childhood, Was I nurtured near thy side.

"For a wise and glorious purpose Thou hast placed me here on earth, And withheld the recollection Of my former friends and birth; Yet ofttimes a secret something Whispered, You're a stranger here; And I felt that I had wandered From a more exalted sphere.

"I had learned to call thee Father, Through thy Spirit from on high; But until the Key of Knowledge Was restored, I knew not why.

In the heavens are parents single?

No; the thought makes reason stare.

Truth is reason; truth eternal Tells me I've a mother there.

"When I leave this frail existence, When I lay this mortal by, Father, mother, may I meet you In your royal courts on high?

Then, at length, when I've completed All you sent me forth to do, With your mutual approbation Let me come and dwell with you."

The door opened, and a young woman came out with a small tin pail in her hand. At sight of Rupert she gave a startled cry and backed to the door.

Just then the young farmer pa.s.sed through the shanty and explained that it was only a "traveler" warming himself. The young woman looked steadily at Rupert. The fire shone out from the open door of the stove, and the light danced on the rough board walls, throwing a halo of red around the girl.

"What a sweet picture," instantly thought Rupert.

Then she slowly advanced again, and, instead of pouring the contents of the pail into a larger dish as was her errand, she placed it on the table by Rupert, and said, smilingly:

"Vil you have a drink of varm milk?"

"Thank you, thank you."

Then she went back.

Warm milk! What could be more delicious? Rupert sipped the sweet fluid.

How it invigorated him and surcharged him with new life. And given by such hands, with such a smile! It was a glimpse of past glories.

In the morning Rupert was asked if he wanted a job.

"Yes," was the answer.

"Can you work on a farm?"

"I've been a farmer all my life," was the reply. "I'm not a tramp, as you understand that term."

"Well, stay around today and I'll see what I can do. I want some help, but I cannot pay high wages."

"Never mind the wages," said Rupert, "we'll agree on that after a while."

The young farmer saw that he had no common tramp to deal with, although he looked rough and travel-stained.

"I have been sick for the past few days," explained Rupert, "and if you can trust me, I should like to rest up a bit before I go to work. I'm too weak to do you much good yet."

"That'll be all right," was the answer. "I see you need something to eat this morning, even if you weren't hungry last night. Come with me to the house."

So Rupert Ames remained with the farmer and did the ch.o.r.es around the house until he became stronger, when he helped with the harder work. He was treated kindly by them all, and it was not long before he mingled freely with the family.

During this time Rupert realized that his right senses, as he called them, were coming back to him, and every night he thanked G.o.d in vocal prayer for his deliverance from a dark pit which seemed to have yawned before him.

The Jansons were newcomers in the West, and had much to learn about farming. Mr. Janson was a Swede who had been in the country twenty years. His wife and her cousin were from Norway, the former having been in the country long enough to become Americanized; it was two years only since the latter had emigrated from her native land, so she spoke English with a foreign accent. Her name was Signe Dahl (first name p.r.o.nounced in two syllables, Sig-ne). She attracted Rupert's attention from the first. She had a complexion of pink and white, blue eyes, soft, light hair; but it was not her peculiar beauty alone that attracted him.

There was something else about her, an atmosphere of peace and a.s.surance which Rupert could feel in her presence. Naturally, she was reticent at first, but on learning to know Rupert, which she seemed to do intuitively, she talked freely with him, and even seemed pleased with his company.

Two weeks went by, and Rupert proffered to remain with Mr. Janson and help him with his harvesting. The latter gladly accepted the offer, for he had by this time learned that Rupert Ames could give him many practical lessons in farming.

The song that Rupert heard that first evening continually rang in his ears. He remembered some of the words, and, as he thought of them, strange ideas came to him. One evening they were all sitting around the fire in the living room. Rupert had been telling them some of his history, and when the conversation lagged, he asked the two cousins to sing that song about "O my Father." They readily consented.

"A most beautiful song," said Rupert at its close; "and so strange. It seems to bring me back for an instant to some former existence, if that were possible. What does it mean:

'In thy holy habitation, Did my spirit once reside; In my first primeval childhood Was I nurtured near thy side.'

"What does it mean?"

"Signe, you explain it," said Mr. Janson. "You know, you're a better preacher than I am."

Signe made no excuses, but went to the little bookshelf and took from it two books, her English and her Norwegian Bibles. She read for the most part from the English now, but she always had the more familiar one at hand to explain any doubtful pa.s.sage.

"I vill do wat I can, Mr. Ames. I cannot read English good, so you must do de reading." She opened the book and pointed to the fourth verse of the thirty-eighth chapter of the book of Job. Rupert read:

"Where wast thou when I laid the foundation of the earth?

declare, if thou hast understanding. * * * When the morning stars sang together and all the sons of G.o.d shouted for joy?"

"Yes," said the reader, "that is a great question, indeed. Where was Job? Why, he was not yet born."

"Who are de sons of G.o.d?" asked Signe.

"I suppose we--all of us, in a sense."

"Of course; and ve all shouted for joy when G.o.d He laid de foundation of de earth; so, ve must have been der, and known someting about it."

"Yes, but how could we? We were not yet born."

"No; not in dis world; but ve lived as spiritual children of our Fader in heaven."

"I don't know about that," remarked Rupert, doubtfully.

"Of course you don't. Dat's why I tell you."