More Jonathan Papers Part 5

As we rose, Janet said, Lets go out before we do the dishes. And to humor her I agreed. We lighted the lantern and stepped out on the back porch. It was quite dark, and as we looked off toward the fireplace we saw gleams of red.

How funny! I murmured. I didnt think there was so much fire left.

We felt our way over, through the yielding mud of the orchard, and as I raised the lantern we stared in dazed astonishment. The pan was a blackened ma.s.s, lit up by winking red eyes of fire. I held the lantern more closely. I seized a stick and pokedthe crisp black stuff broke and crumbled into an empty and blackening pan. A curious odor arose.

It couldnt have! gasped Janet.

It couldntbut it has! I said.

It was a matter for tears, or rage, or laughter. And laughter won. When we recovered a little we took up the black sh.e.l.l of carbon that had once been syrup-froth; we laid it gently beside the oven, for a keepsake. Then we poured water in the pan, and steam rose hissing to the stars.

Does it leak? faltered Janet.

Leak! I said. I was on my knees now, watching the water stream through the parted seam of the pan bottom, down into the ashes below.

The question is, I went on as I got up, did it boil away because it leaked, or did it leak because it boiled away?

I dont see that it matters much, said Janet. She was showing symptoms of depression at this point.

It matters a great deal, I said. Because, you see, weve got to tell Jonathan, and it makes all the difference how we put it.

I see, said Janet; then she added, experimentally, Why tell Jonathan?

Why, Janet, you know better! I wouldnt miss telling Jonathan for anything. What is Jonathan _for!_

Wellof course, she conceded. Lets do dishes.

We sat before the fire that evening and I read while Janet knitted.

Between my eyes and the printed page there kept rising a visiona vision of black crust, with winking red embers smoldering along its broken edges.

I found it distracting in the extreme.

At some time unknown, out of the blind depths of the night, I was awakened by a voice:

Its beginning to rain. I think Ill just go out and empty whats near the house.

Janet! I murmured, dont be absurd.

But it will dilute all that sap.

There isnt any sap to dilute. It wont be running at night. After a while the voice, full of propitiatory intonations, resumed:

My dear, you dont mind if I slip out. It will only take a minute.

I do mind. Go to sleep!

Silence. Then:

Its raining harder. I hate to think of all that sap

You dont _have_ to think! I was quite savage. Just go to sleepand let me! Another silence. Then a fresh downpour. The voice was pleading:

_Please_ let me go! Ill be back in a minute. And its not cold.

Oh, wellIm awake now, anyway. _Ill_ go. My voice was tinged with that high resignation that is worse than anger. Janets tone changed instantly:

No, no! Dont! Please dont! Im going. I truly dont mind.

_Im_ going. I dont mind, either, not at all.

Oh, dear! Then lets not either of us go.

That was my idea in the first place.

Well, then, we wont. Go to sleep, and I will too.

Not at all! Ive decided to go.

But its stopped raining. Probably it wont rain any more.

Then what are you making all this fuss for?

I didnt make a fuss. I just thought I could slip out

Well, you couldnt. And its raining very hard again. And Im going.

Oh, dont! Youll get drenched.

Of course. But I cant bear to have all that sap diluted.

It doesnt run at night. You said it didnt.

You said it did.

But I dont really know. You know best.

Why didnt you think of that sooner? Anyway, Im going.

Oh, dear! You make me feel as if Id stirred you up

You have, I interrupted, sweetly. I wont deny that you _have_ stirred me up. But now that you have mentioned itI felt for a matchnow that you have mentioned it, I see that this was the one thing needed to make my evening complete, or perhaps its morningI dont know.

We found the dining-room warm, and soon we were equipped in those curious compromises of vesture that people adopt under such circ.u.mstances, and, with lantern and umbrella, we fumbled our way out to the trees. The rain was driving in sheets, and we plodded up the road in the yellow circle of lantern-light wavering uncertainly over the puddles, while under our feet the mud gave and sucked.

Its diluted, sure enough, I said, as we emptied the pails. We crawled slowly back, with our heavy milk-can full of sap-and-rain-water, and went in.

The warm dining-room was pleasant to return to, and we sat down to cookies and milk, feeling almost cozy.

Ive always wanted to know how it would be to go out in the middle of the night this way, I remarked, and now I know.