OLD LADY NUMBER 31

BY LOUISE FORSSLUND

AUTHOR OF "THE STORY OF SARAH, " "THE SHIP OF DREAMS, " ETC. 

1909

TO MY MOTHER

CONTENTS

 I. THE TEA-TABLE

 II. "GOOD-BY"

 III. THE CANDIDATE

 IV. ONE OF THEM

 V. THE HEAD OF THE CORNER

 VI. INDIAN SUMMER

 VII. OLD LETTERS AND NEW

 VIII. THE ANNIVERSARY

 IX. A WINTER BUTTERFLY

 X. THE TURN OF THE TIDE

 XI. MENTAL TREATMENT

 XII. "A PASSEL OF MEDDLERS"

 XIII. THE PRODIGAL'S DEPARTURE

 XIV. CUTTING THE APRON-STRINGS

 XV. THE "HARDENING" PROCESS

 XVI. "A REG'LAR HOSS"

 XVII. THE DESERTER

XVIII. SAMUEL'S WELCOME

 XIX. EXCHANGING THE OLIVE-BRANCH

 XX. THE FATTED CALF

 XXI. "OUR BELOVED BROTHER"

I

THE TEA-TABLE

Angeline's slender, wiry form and small, glossy gray head bent over thesquat brown tea-pot as she shook out the last bit of leaf from thecanister. The canister was no longer hers, neither the tea-pot, nor eventhe battered old pewter spoon with which she tapped the bottom of thetin to dislodge the last flicker of tea-leaf dust. The three had beensold at auction that day in response to the auctioneer's inquiry, "Whatam I bid for the lot?"

Nothing in the familiar old kitchen was hers, Angeline reflected, exceptAbraham, her aged husband, who was taking his last gentle ride in theold rocking-chair--the old arm-chair with painted roses blooming asbrilliantly across its back as they had bloomed when the chair was firstpurchased forty years ago. Those roses had come to be a source ofperpetual wonder to the old wife, an ever present example. 

Neither time nor stress could wilt them in a single leaf. When Abe tookthe first mortgage on the house in order to invest in an indefinitelylocated Mexican gold-mine, the melodeon dropped one of its keys, but theroses nodded on with the same old sunny hope; when Abe had to take thesecond mortgage and Tenafly Gold became a forbidden topic ofconversation, the minute-hand fell off the parlor clock, but the flowerson the back of the old chair blossomed on none the less serenely. 

The soil grew more and more barren as the years went by; but still theroses had kept fresh and young, so why, argued Angy, should not she? Ifold age and the pinch of poverty had failed to conquer their valiantspirit, why should she listen to the croaking tale? If they bloomed onwith the same crimson flaunt of color, though the rockers beneath themhad grown warped and the body of the chair creaked and groaned everytime one ventured to sit in it, why should she not ignore the stiffnesswhich the years seemed to bring to her joints, the complaints which herbody threatened every now and again to utter, and fare on herself, ahardy perennial bravely facing life's winter-time?

Even this dreaded day had not taken one fraction of a shade from theglory of the roses, as Angeline could see in the bud at one side ofAbraham's head and the full-blown flower below his right ear; so whyshould she droop because the sale of her household goods had beensomewhat disappointing? _Somewhat?_ When the childless old couple, stillsailing under the banner of a charity-forbidding pride, becamepractically reduced to their last copper, just as Abe's joints were"loosenin' up" after a five years' siege of rheumatism, and decided tosell all their worldly possessions, apart from their patched andthreadbare wardrobes and a few meager keepsakes, they had depended uponraising at least two hundred dollars, one half of which was to secureAbe a berth in the Old Men's Home at Indian Village, and the other halfto make Angeline comfortable for life, if a little lonely, in the OldLadies' Home in their own native hamlet of Shoreville. Both institutionshad been generously endowed by the same estate, and were separated by adistance of but five miles. 

"Might as waal be five hunderd, with my rheumatiz an' yer weak heart, "Abraham had growled when Angy first proposed the plan as the onlydignified solution to their problem of living. 

"But, " the little wife had rejoined, "it'll be a mite o' comforta-knowin' a body's so near, even ef yer can't git tew 'em. "

Now, another solution must be found to the problem; for the auction wasover, and instead of two hundred dollars they had succeeded in raisingbut one hundred dollars and two cents. 

"That air tew cents was fer the flour-sifter, " inwardly mourned Angy, "an' it was wuth double an' tribble, fer it's been a good friend ter mefer nigh on ter eight year. "

"Tew cents on the second hunderd, " said Abe for the tenth time. "I'vecounted it over an' over. One hunderd dollars an' tew pesky pennies. An'I never hear a man tell so many lies in my life as that air auctioneer. Yew'd 'a' thought he was sellin' out the Empery o' Rooshy. Hy-guy, itsounded splendid. Fust off I thought he'd raise us more 'n we expected. An' mebbe he would have tew, Angy, " a bit ruefully, "ef yew'd 'a' let meadvertise a leetle sooner. I don't s'pose half Shoreville knows yit thatwe was gwine ter have a auction sale. " He watched the color rising inher cheeks with a curious mixture of pride in her pride and regret atits consequences. "It's no use a-talkin', Mother, Pride an' Povertymakes oneasy bed-fellers. "

He leaned back in the old chair, creaking out a dismal echo to theauctioneer's, "Going, going, gone!" while the flush deepened in Angy'scheek. Again she fastened her gaze upon the indomitable red rose whichhung a pendant ear-ring on the right side of Abraham's head. 

"Yew wouldn't 'a' had folks a-comin' here ter bid jest out o' charity, would yew?" she demanded. "An' anyhow, " in a more gentle tone, --thegently positive tone which she had acquired through forty years ofliving with Abraham, --"we hain't so bad off with one hunderd dollars an'tew cents, an'--beholden ter nobody! It's tew cents more 'n yew need tergit yew inter the Old Men's, an' them extry tew cents'll pervide fer mejest bewtiful. " Abraham stopped rocking to stare hard at his resourcefulwife, an involuntary twinkle of amusement in his blue eyes. Withincreased firmness, she repeated, "Jest bewtiful!" whereupon Abe, scenting self-sacrifice on his wife's part, sat up straight and snapped, "Haow so, haow so, Mother?"

"It'll buy a postage-stamp, won't it?"--she was fairly aggressivenow, --"an' thar's a envelop what wa'n't put up ter auction in thecupboard an' a paper-bag I kin iron out, --ketch me a-gwine ter theneighbors an' a-beggin' fer writin'-paper--an' I'll jest set daown an'write a line ter Mis' Halsey. Her house hain't a stun's throw from theOld Men's; an' I'll offer ter come an' take keer o' them air young 'unso' her'n fer my board an' keep an'--ten cents a week. I was a-gwine tersay a quarter, but I don't want ter impose on nobody. Seein' that theyhain't over well-ter-do, I would go fer nothin', but I got ter havesomethin' ter keep up appearances on, so yew won't have no call ter feelashamed of me when I come a-visitin' ter the hum. " Involuntarily, as shespoke, Angy lifted her knotted old hand and smoothed back the hair fromher brow; for through all the struggling years she had kept a certain, not unpleasing, girlish pride in her personal appearance. 

Abraham had risen with creaks of his rheumatic joints, and was nowwalking up and down the room, his feet lifted slowly and painfully withevery step, yet still his blue eyes flashing with the fire of indignantprotest. 

"Me a-bunkin' comfortable in the Old Men's, an' yew a-takin' keer o'them Halsey young 'uns fer ten cents a week! I wouldn't take keer o' 'emfer ten cents a short breath. Thar be young 'uns an' young 'uns, " heelucidated, "but they be tartars! Yew'd be in yer grave afore the fustfrost; an' who's a-gwine ter bury yer--the taown?" His tone becamegentle and broken: "No, no, Angy. Yew be a good gal, an' dew jest as wecalc'lated on. Yew jine the Old Ladies'; yew've got friends over thar, yew'll git erlong splendid. An' I'll git erlong tew. Yer know"--throwinghis shoulders back, he assumed the light, bantering tone so familiar tohis wife--"the poorhouse doors is always open. I'd jest admire ter gothar. Thar's a rocking-chair in every room, and they say the grub is ANo. 1. " He winked at her, smiling his broadest smile in his attempt todeceive. 

Both wink and smile, however, were lost upon Angy, who was busydividing the apple-sauce in such a way that Abe would have the largershare without suspecting it, hoping the while that he would not noticethe absence of butter at this last home meal. She herself had neverbelieved in buttering bread when there was "sass" to eat with it; butAbe's extravagant tastes had always carried him to the point of desiringboth butter and sauce as a relish to his loaf. 

"Naow, fur 's I'm concerned, " pursued Abe, "I hain't got nothin' aginthe poorhouse fer neither man ner woman. I'd as lief let yew go thar'stid o' me; fer I know very well that's what yew're a-layin' out ferter do. Yes, yes, Mother, yew can't fool me. But think what folks wouldsay! Think what they would say! They 'd crow, 'Thar's Abe a-takin' hiscomfort in the Old Men's Hum, an' Angeline, she's a-eatin' her heart outin the poorhouse!'"

Angeline had, indeed, determined to be the one to go to the poorhouse;but all her life long she had cared, perhaps to a faulty degree, for"what folks would say. " Above all, she cared now for what they had saidand what they still might say about her husband and this final ending tohis down-hill road. She rested her two hands on the table and lookedhard at the apple-sauce until it danced before her eyes. She could notthink with any degree of clearness. Vaguely she wondered if their supperwould dance out of sight before they could sit down to eat it. So manyof the good things of life had vanished ere she and Abe could touchtheir lips to them. Then she felt his shaking hand upon her shoulder andheard him mutter with husky tenderness:

"My dear, this is the fust chance since we've been married that I've hadto take the wust of it. Don't say a word agin it naow, Mother, don'tyer. I've brought yer ter this pass. Lemme bear the brunt o' it. "

Ah, the greatest good of all had not vanished, and that was the lovethey bore one to the other. The sunshine came flooding back intoMother's heart. She lifted her face, beautiful, rosy, eternally young. This was the man for whom she had gladly risked want and poverty, thedispleasure of her own people, almost half a century ago. Now at lastshe could point him out to all her little world and say, "See, he givesme the red side of the apple!" She lifted her eyes, two bright sapphiresswimming with the diamond dew of unshed, happy tears. 

"I'm a-thinkin', Father, " she twittered, "that naow me an' yew bea-gwine so fur apart, we be a-gittin' closer tergether in sperit than we've ever been afore. "

Abe bent down stiffly to brush her cheek with his rough beard, and then, awkward, as when a boy of sixteen he had first kissed her, shy, ashamedat this approach to a return of the old-time love-making, he seatedhimself at the small, bare table. 

This warped, hill-and-dale table of the drop-leaves, which had beenbrought from the attic only to-day after resting there for ten years, had served as their first dining-table when the honeymoon was young. Abethoughtfully drummed his hand on the board, and as Angy brought thetea-pot and sat down opposite him, he recalled:

"We had bread an' tea an' apple-sass the day we set up housekeeping dewyew remember, Angy?"

"An' I burned the apple-sass, " she supplemented, whereupon Abe chuckled, and Angy went on with a thrill of genuine gladness over the fact that heremembered the details of that long-ago honeymoon as well as she: "Yewdon't mind havin' no butter to-night, dew yer, Father?"

He recalled how he had said to her at that first simple home meal: "Yewdon't mind bein' poor with me, dew yer, Angy?" Now, with a silent shakeof his head, he stared at her, wondering how it would seem to eat attable when her face no longer looked at him across the board, to sleepat night when her faithful hand no longer lay within reach of his own. She lifted her teacup, he lifted his, the two gazing at each other overthe brims, both half-distressed, half-comforted by the fact that Lovestill remained their toast-master after the passing of all the years. Ofa sudden Angy exclaimed, "We fergot ter say grace. " Shocked andcontrite, they covered their eyes with their trembling old hands andmurmured together, "Dear Lord, we thank Thee this day for our dailybread. "

Angy opened her eyes to find the red roses cheerfully facing her fromthe back of the rocking-chair. A robin had hopped upon the window-silljust outside the patched and rusty screen and was joyfully caroling toher his views of life. Through the window vines in which the bird wasalmost meshed the sunlight sifted softly into the stripped, bare, andlonely room. Angy felt strangely encouraged and comforted. The rosesbecame symbolical to her of the "lilies of the field which toil not, neither do they spin"; the robin was one of the "two sparrows sold for afarthing, and one of them shall not fall to the ground without yourFather"; while the sunlight seemed to call out to the little old ladywho hoped and believed and loved much: "Fear ye not therefor. Ye are ofmore value than many sparrows!"

II

"GOOD-BY"

When the last look of parting had been given to the old kitchen and thecouple passed out-of-doors, hushed and trembling, they presented anincongruously brave, gala-day appearance. Both were dressed in theirbest. To be sure, Abraham's Sunday suit had long since become his only, every-day suit as well, but he wore his Sabbath-day hat, a beaver ofancient design, with an air that cast its reflection over all hisapparel. Angeline had on a black silk gown as shiny as the freshlypolished stove she was leaving in her kitchen--a gown which testifiedfrom its voluminous hem to the soft yellow net at the throat thatAngeline was as neat a mender and darner as could be found in Suffolkcounty. 

A black silk bonnet snuggled close to her head, from under its brimpeeping a single pink rose. Every spring for ten years Angeline hadrenewed the youth of this rose by treating its petals with the tenderred dye of a budding oak. 

Under the pink rose, a soft pink flush bloomed on either of the oldlady's cheeks. Her eyes flashed with unconquerable pride, and hersquare, firm chin she held very high; for now, indeed, she was filledwith terror of what "folks would say" to this home-leaving, and it was abright June afternoon, too clear for an umbrella with which to hideone's face from prying neighbors, too late in the day for a sunshade. 

Angy tucked the green-black affair which served them as both under herarm and swung Abe's figured old carpet-bag in her hand with the mannerof one setting out on a pleasant journey. Abe, though resting heavily onhis stout, crooked cane, dragged behind him Angy's little horsehairtrunk upon a creaking, old, unusually large, toy express-wagon which hehad bought at some forgotten auction long ago. 

The husband and wife passed into the garden between borders of boxwood, beyond which nodded the heads of Angy's carefully tended, out-door"children"--her roses, her snowballs, her sweet-smelling syringas, herwax-like bleeding-hearts, and her shrub of bridal-wreath. 

"Jest a minute, " she murmured, as Abe would have hastened on to thegate. She bent her proud head and kissed with furtive, half-ashamedpassion a fluffy white spray of the bridal-wreath. Now overtopping thehusband's silk hat, the shrub had not come so high as his knee when theytwo had planted it nearly a half-century ago. 

"You're mine!" Angy's heart cried out to the shrub and to every growingthing in the garden. "You're mine. I planted you, tended you, loved youinto growing. You're all the children I ever had, and I'm leaving you. "

But the old wife did not pluck a single flower, for she could neverbear to see a blossom wither in her hand, while all she said aloud was:"I'm glad 't was Mis' Holmes that bought in the house. They say she's agreat hand ter dig in the garden. "

Angy's voice faltered. Abe did not answer. Something had caused aswimming before his eyes which he did not wish his wife to see; so helet fall the handle of the express-wagon and, bending his slow back, plucked a sprig of "old-man. " Though he could not have expressed hissentiments in words, the garden brought poignant recollections of thehopes and promises which had thrown their rose color about the youngdays of his marriage. His hopes had never blossomed into fulfilment. His promises to the little wife had been choked by the weeds of his owninefficiency. Worse than this, the bursting into bloom of seeds ofselfish recklessness in himself was what had turned the garden of theirlife into an arid waste. And now, in their dry and withered old age, heand Angy were being torn up by the roots, flung as so much rubbish bythe roadside. 

"Mother, I be dretful sorry ter take yew away from your posies, "muttered Abraham as he arose with his green sprig in his hand. 

With shaking fingers, Angy sought a pin hidden beneath her basque. "Father, shall I pin yer 'old-man' in yer buttonhole?" she quavered. Then as he stooped for her to arrange the posy, she whispered: "Iwouldn't care, 'cept fer what folks must say. Le' 's hurry before anyone sees us. I told everybody that we wa'n't a-gwine ter break up tillter-morrer mornin'. "

Fortunately, there was a way across lots to the Old Ladies' Home, anunfrequented by-path over a field and through a bit of woodland, whichwould bring the couple almost unobserved to a side gate. 

Under ordinary circumstances, Angeline would never have taken this path;for it exposed her carefully patched and newly polished shoes toscratches, her fragile, worn silk skirt and stiff, white petticoat tobrambles. Moreover, the dragging of the loaded little wagon was moredifficult here for Abraham. But they both preferred the narrower, rougher way to facing the curious eyes of all Shoreville now, thepitying windows of the village street. 

As the couple came to the edge of the woodland, they turned with oneaccord and looked back for the last glimpse of the home. Blazinggold-red against the kitchen window flamed the afternoon sunlight. 

"Look a' that!" Angy cried eagerly, as one who beholds a promise in theskies. "Jest see, Father; we couldn't 'a' made out that winder this furat all ef the sun hadn't struck it jest so. I declar' it seems almost asef we could see the rocker, tew. It's tew bad, Abe, that we had ter letyer old rocker go. D'yew remember--?" She laid her hand on his arm, andlifted her gaze, growing clouded and wistful, to his face. "When webought the chair, we thought mebbe some day I'd be rocking a leetle babyin it. 'T was then, yew ricollec', we sorter got in the habit of callin'each other 'father' an' 'mother. ' I wonder ef the young 'uns had come--"

"Le' 's hurry, " interrupted Abe almost gruffly. "Le' 's hurry. "

They stumbled forward with bowed heads in silence, until of a suddenthey were startled by a surprised hail of recognition, and looked up tofind themselves confronted by a bent and gray old man, a villagecharacter, a harmless, slightly demented public charge known as"Ishmael" or "Captain Rover. "

"Whar yew goin', Cap'n Rose?"

The old couple had drawn back at the sight of the gentle vagabond, andAngy clutched at her husband's arm, her heart contracting at the thoughtthat he, too, had become a pauper. 

"I'm a-takin' my wife ter jine the old ladies over thar ter the Hum, "Abe answered, and would have passed on, shrinking from the sight ofhimself as reflected in poor Ishmael. 

But the "innocent" placed himself in their path. 

"Yew ain't a-goin' ter jine 'em, tew?" he bantered. 

Abe forced a laugh to his lips in response. 

"No, no; I'm goin' over ter Yaphank ter board on the county. "

Again the couple would have passed on, their faces flushed, their eyeslowered, had not Ishmael flung out one hand to detain them while heplunged the other hurriedly into his pocket. 

"Here. " He drew out a meager handful of nickels and pennies, his vacantsmile grown wistful. "Here, take it, Cap'n Rose. It's all I got. I can'tcount it myself, but yew can. Don't yew think it's enough ter set yew upin business, so yew won't have ter go ter the poorhouse? The poorhouseis a bad place. I was there last winter. I don't like the poorhouse. "

He rambled on of the poorhouse. Angy, panting for breath, one handagainst the smothering pain at her heart, was trying, with the other, todrag "Father" along. "Father" was shaking his head at Ishmael, at theproffered nickels and pennies--shaking his head and choking. At lengthhe found his voice, and was able to smile at his would-be benefactorwith even the ghost of a twinkle in his eye. 

"Much obliged, Cap'n Rover; but yew keep yer money fer terbaccy. I ain'tso high-toned as yew. I'll take real comfort at the poorhouse. S' long;thank yer. S' long. "

Ishmael went on his way muttering to himself, unhappily jingling hisrejected alms; while Angy and Abe resumed their journey. 

As they came to the gate of the Old Ladies' Home, Angy seized hold ofher husband's arm, and looking up into his face pleaded earnestly:

"Father, let's take the hunderd dollars fer a fambly tombstun an' go terthe poorhouse tergether!"

He shook her off almost roughly and lifted the latch of the gate. 

"Folks'd say we was crazy, Mother. "

There was no one in sight as he dragged in the express-cart and laiddown the handle. Before him was a long, clean-swept path endingapparently in a mass of shrubbery; to the left was a field of sweet cornreaching to the hedge; to the right a strong and sturdy growth of polelima beans; and just within the entrance, beneath the sweeping plumes ofa weeping-willow tree, was a shabby but inviting green bench. 

Abe's glance wandered from the bench to his wife's face. Angy could notlift her eyes to him; with bowed head she was latching and unlatchingthe gate through which he must pass. He looked at the sun andthoughtfully made reckon of the time. There were still two hours beforehe could take the train which--

"Lef 's go set deown a spell afore--" he faltered--"afore we saygood-by. "

She made no answer. She told herself over and over that she must--simplymust--stop that "all-of-a-tremble" feeling which was going on inside ofher. She stepped from the gate to the bench blindly, with Abe's hand onher arm, though, still blindly, with exaggerated care she placed hiscarpet-bag on the grass beside her. 

He laid down his cane, took off his high hat and wiped his brow. Helooked at her anxiously. Still she could not lift her blurred eyes, norcould she check her trembling. 

Seeing how she shook, he passed his arm around her shoulder. Hemurmured something--what, neither he nor she knew--but the love of hisyouth spoke in the murmur, and again fell the silence. 

Angy's eyes cleared. She struggled to speak, aghast at the thought thatlife itself might be done before ever they could have one hour togetheragain; but no words came. So much--so much to say! She reached out herhand to where his rested upon his knee. Their fingers gripped, and eachfelt a sense of dreary cheer to know that the touch was speaking whatthe tongue could not utter. 

Time passed swiftly. The silent hour sped on. The young blades of corngossiped gently along the field. Above, the branches of the willowswished and swayed to the rhythm of the soft, south wind. 

"How still, how still it is!" whispered the breeze. 

"Rest, rest, rest!" was the lullaby swish of the willow. 

The old wife nestled closer to Abraham until her head touched hisshoulder. He laid his cheek against her hair and the carefully preservedold bonnet. Involuntarily she raised her hand, trained by the years ofpinching economy, to lift the fragile rose into a safer position. Hesmiled at her action; then his arm closed about her spasmodically and heswallowed a lump in his throat. 

The afternoon was waning. Gradually over the turmoil of their heartsstole the garden's June-time spirit of drowsy repose. 

They leaned even closer to each other. The gray of the old man's hairmingled with the gray beneath Angeline's little bonnet. Slowly his eyesclosed. Then even as Angy wondered who would watch over the slumbers ofhis worn old age in the poorhouse, she, too, fell asleep. 

III

THE CANDIDATE

The butcher's boy brought the tidings of the auction sale in at thekitchen door of the Old Ladies' Home even while Angy and Abe werelingering over their posies, and the inmates of the Home were waiting toreceive the old wife with the greater sympathy and the deeper spirit ofwelcome from the fact that two of the twenty-nine members had known herfrom girlhood, away back in the boarding-school days. 

"Yop, " said the boy, with one eye upon the stout matron, who wascritically examining the meat that he had brought. "Yop, the auction'sover, an' Cap'n Rose, he--Don't that cut suit you, Miss Abigail? Youwon't find a better, nicer, tenderer, and more juicier piece of shoulderthis side of New York. Take it back, did you say? All right, ma'am, allright!" His face assumed a look of resignation: these old ladies madehis life a martyrdom. He used to tell the "fellers" that he spent onehalf his time carrying orders back and forth from the Old Ladies' Home. But now, in spite of his meekness of manner, he did not intend to takethis cut back. So with Machiavellian skill he hastened on with hisgossip. 

"Yop, an' they only riz one hundred dollars an' two cents--one hundreddollars an' a postage-stamp. I guess it's all up with the cap'n an' theOld Men's. I don't see 'em hangin' out no 'Welcome' sign on the strengthof that. "

"You're a horrid, heartless little boy!" burst forth Miss Abigail, and, flinging the disputed meat on the table, she sank down into the chair, completely overcome by sorrow and indignation. "You'll be old yerselfsome day, " she sobbed, not noticing that he was stealthily edging towardthe door, one eye on her, one on to-morrow's pot-roast. "I tell yew, Tommy, " regaining her accustomed confiding amiability, as she lifted thecorner of her apron to wipe her eyes, "Miss Ellie will feel some kind o'bad, tew. Yer know me an' her an' Angy all went ter school tergether, although Miss Ellie is so much younger 'n the rest o' us that we callher the baby. Here! Where--"

But he was gone. Sighing heavily, the matron put the meat in theice-box, and then made her slow, lumbering way into the front hall, orcommunity-room, where the sisters were gathered in a body to await thenew arrival. 

"Waal, say!" she supplemented, after she had finished telling herpitiably brief story, "thar's trouble ernough ter go 'round, hain'tthar?"

Aunt Nancy Smith, who never believed in wearing her heart on her sleeve, sniffed and thumped her cane on the floor. 

"Yew young folks, " she affirmed, herself having seen ninety-ninewinters, while Abigail had known but a paltry sixty-five, "yew allers goan' cut yer pity on the skew-gee. I don't see nothin' ter bawl an'beller erbout. I say that a'ny man what can't take kere o' himself, notter mention his wife, should orter go ter the poorhouse. "

But the matriarch's voice quavered even more than usual, and as shefinished she hastily bent down and felt in her deep skirt-pocket for hersnuff-box. 

Now the Amazonian Mrs. Homan, a widow for the third time, made sturdyretort:

"That's jest like yew old maids--always a-blamin' the men. Yew kin jestbet I never would have let one of my husbands go ter the poorhouse. Itwould have mortified me dretful. It must be a purty poor sort of awoman what can't take care of one man and keep a roof over his head. Why, my second, Oliver G. , used ter say--"

"Oh!" Miss Ellie wrung her hands, "can't we do somethin'?"

"I could do a-plenty, " mourned Miss Abigail, "ef I only had been savin'. Here I git a salary o' four dollars a month, an' not one penny laidaway. "

"Yew fergit, " spoke some one gently, "that it takes consid'able terdress a matron proper. "

Aunt Nancy, who had been sneezing furiously at her own impotence, nowfound her speech again. 

"We're a nice set ter talk erbout dewin' somethin'--a passel o' poor olecritters like us!" Her cackle of embittered laughter was interrupted bythe low, cultivated voice of the belle of the Home, "Butterfly Blossy. "

"We've _got_ to do something, " said Blossy firmly. 

When Blossy spoke with such decision, every one of the sisters prickedup her ears. Blossy might be "a shaller-pate"; she might arrange thegolden-white hair of her head as befitted the crowning glory of a younggirl, with puffs and rolls and little curls, and--more than one sistersuspected--with the aid of "rats"; she might gown herself elaborately inthe mended finery of the long ago, the better years; she might dress herlovely big room--the only double bedchamber in the house, for which shehad paid a double entrance fee--in all sorts of gewgaws, littleornaments, hand-painted plaques of her own producing, lace bedspreads, embroidered splashers and pillow-shams; she might even permit herself asuitor who came twice a year more punctually than the line-storms, toask her withered little hand in marriage--but her heart was in the rightplace, and on occasion she had proved herself a master hand at "fixin'things. "

"Yes, " said she, rising to her feet and flinging out her arms with aneloquent gesture, "we've got to do something, and there's just one thingto do, girls: take the captain right here--here"--she brought her handsto the laces on her bosom--"to our hearts!"

At first there was silence, with the ladies staring blankly at Blossyand then at one another. Had they heard aright? Then there came murmursand exclamations, with Miss Abigail's voice gasping above the others:

"What would the directors say?"

"What do they always say when we ask a favor?" demanded Blossy. "'Howmuch will it cost?' It won't cost a cent. "

"Won't, eh?" snapped Aunt Nancy. "How on arth be yew goin' ter vittlehim? I hain't had a second dish o' peas this year. "

"Some men eat more an' some less, " remarked Sarah Jane, as ill-favored aspinster as ever the sun shone on; "generally it means so much grub terso much weight. "

Miss Abigail glanced up at the ceiling, while Lazy Daisy, who hadrefused to tip the beam for ten years, surreptitiously hid an appleinto which she had been biting. 

"Le' 's have 'em weighed, " suggested a widow, Ruby Lee, with a pretty, well-preserved little face and figure, "an' ef tergether they don't comeup to the heartiest one of us--"

Miss Abigail made hasty interruption:

"Gals, hain't yew never noticed that the more yew need the more yew git?Before Jenny Bell went to live with her darter I didn't know what Ishould dew, for the taters was gittin' pooty low. Yew know she used tereat twenty ter a meal an' then look hungry at the platter. An' then efold Square Ely didn't come a-drivin' up one mornin' with ten bushel inthe farm wagon! He'd been savin' 'em fer us all winter fer fear wemight run short in the spring. Gals, thar's one thing yew kin depend on, the foresightedness of the Lord. I hain't afraid ter risk a-stretchin'the board an' keep o' thirty ter pervide ample fer thirty-one. Naow, haow many of yew is willin' ter try it?"

Every head nodded, "I am"; every eye was wet with the dew of mercifulkindness; and Mrs. Homan and Sarah Jane, who had flung plates at eachother only that morning, were observed to be holding hands. 

"But haow on arth be we a-goin' ter sleep him?" proceeded the matronuneasily. "Thar hain't a extry corner in the hull place. Puttin' tewpeople in No. 30 is out of the question--it's jest erbout the size of aCinderella shoebox, anyhow, an' the garret leaks--"

She paused, for Blossy was pulling at her sleeve, the real Blossy, warmhearted, generous, self-deprecating. 

"I think No. 30 is just the coziest little place for one! Do let me takeit, Miss Abigail, and give the couple my great big barn of a room. "

Aunt Nancy eyed her suspiciously. "Yew ain't a-gwine ter make a fool o'yerself, an' jump over the broomstick ag'in?" For Blossy's old suitor, Samuel Darby, had made one of his semiannual visits only that morning. 

The belle burst into hysterical and self-conscious laughter, as shefound every glance bent upon her. 

"Oh, no, no; not that. But I confess that I am tired to death of thisperpetual dove-party. I just simply can't live another minute without aman in the house. 

"Now, Miss Abigail, " she added imperiously, "you run across lots andfetch him home. "

IV

ONE OF THEM

Ah! but Abraham slept that night as if he had been drawn to rest underthe compelling shelter of the wings of all that flock which in happierdays he had dubbed contemptuously "them air old hens. " Never afterwardcould the dazed old gentleman remember how he had been persuaded to comeinto the house and up the stairs with Angeline. He only knew that in themidst of that heart-breaking farewell at the gate, Miss Abigail, all outof breath with running, red in the face, but exceedingly hearty ofmanner, had suddenly appeared. 

"Shoo, shoo, shoo!" this stout angel had gasped. "Naow, Cap'n Abe, yewneedn't git narvous. We 're as harmless as doves. Run right erlong. Yewwon't see anybody ter-night. Don't say a word. It's all right. Sssh!Shoo!" And then, lo! he was not in the County Almshouse, but in abeautiful bright bedchamber with a wreath of immortelles over themantel, alone with Angy. 

Afterward, it all seemed the blur of a dream to him, a dream which endedwhen he had found his head upon a cool, white pillow, and had felt glad, glad--dear God, how glad!--to know that Angy was still within reach ofhis outstretched hand; and so he had fallen asleep. But when he awoke inthe morning, there stood Angeline in front of the glass taking her hairout of curl papers; and then he slowly began to realize the tremendouschange that had come into their lives, when his wife committed theunprecedented act of taking her crimps out _before_ breakfast. Herealized' that they were to eat among strangers. He had become the guestof thirty "women-folks. " No doubt he should be called "Old GalThirty-one. " He got up and dressed very, very slowly. The bewilderedgratitude, the incredulous thanksgiving of last night, were as far awayas yesterday's sunset. A great seriousness settled upon Abe's lean face. At last he burst forth:

"One to thirty! Hy-guy, I'm in fer it!" How had it happened, hewondered. They had given him no time to think. They had swooped downupon him when his brain was dulled with anguish. Virtually, they hadkidnapped him. Why had they brought him here to accept charity of awomen's institution? Why need they thus intensify his sense of shame athis life's failure, and, above all, at his failure to provide forAngeline? In the poorhouse he would have been only one more derelict;but here he stood alone to be stared at and pitied and thrown asickly-satisfying crumb. With a sigh from the very cellar of his being, he muttered:

"Aye, Mother, why didn't yew let me go on ter the County House? Thatair's the place fer a worn-out old hull like me. Hy-guy!" he ejaculated, beads of sweat standing out on his forehead, "I'd ruther lay deown an'die th'n face them air women. "

"Thar, thar!" soothingly spoke Angy, laying her hand on his arm. "Thar, thar, Father! Jest think haow dretful I'd feel a-goin' deown withoutyer. "

"So you would!" strangely comforted. "So you would, my dear!" For hersake he tried to brighten up. He joked clumsily as they stood on thethreshold of the chamber, whispering, blinking his eyes to make up forthe lack of their usually ready twinkle. 

"Hol' on a minute; supposin' I fergit whether I be a man er a woman?"

Her love gave inspiration to her answer: "I'll lean on yer, Abe. "

Just then there came the loud, imperative clanging of thebreakfast-bell; and she urged him to hurry, as "it wouldn't dew" forthem to be late the first morning of all times. But he only answered bygoing back into the room to make an anxious survey of his reflection inthe glass. He shook his head reprovingly at the bearded countenance, asif to say: "You need not pride yourself any longer on looking likeAbraham Lincoln, for you have been turned into a miserable old woman. "

Picking up the hair-brush, he held it out at arm's length to Angy. "Won't yew slick up my hair a leetle bit, Mother?" he asked, somewhatshamefacedly. "I can't see extry well this mornin'. "

"Why, Abe! It's slicked ez slick ez it kin be naow. " However, the oldwife reached up as he bent his tall, angular form over her, andsmoothed again his thin, wet locks. He laughed a little, self-mockingly, and she laughed back, then urged him into the hall, and, slipping ahead, led the way down-stairs. At the first landing, which brought them intofull view of the lower hall, he paused, possessed with the mad desire torun away and hide, for at the foot of the stairway stood the entireflock of old ladies. Twenty-nine pairs of eyes were lifted to him andAngy, twenty-nine pairs of lips were smiling at them. To the end of hisdays Abraham remembered those smiles. Reassuring, unselfish, and tender, they made the old man's heart swell, his emotions go warring together. 

He wondered, was grateful, yet he grew more confused and afraid. Hestared amazed at Angeline, who seemed the embodiment of self-possession, lifting her dainty, proud little gray head higher and higher. She turnedto Abraham with a protecting, motherly little gesture of command for himto follow, and marched gallantly on down the stairs. Humbly, tremblingat the knees, he came with gingerly steps after the little old wife. Howunworthy he was of her now! How unworthy he had always been, yet neverrealized to the full until this moment. He knew what those smiles meant, he told himself, watching the uplifted faces; they were to soothe hissense of shame and humiliation, to touch with rose this dull gray colorof the culmination of his failures. He passed his hand over his eyes, fiercely praying that the tears might not come to add to his disgrace. 

And all the while brave little Angy kept smiling, until with a trulyglad leap of the heart she caught sight of a blue ribbon painted in goldshining on the breast of each one of the twenty-nine women. A pale blueribbon painted in gold with--yes, peering her eyes she discovered thatit was the word "WELCOME!" The forced smile vanished from Angeline'sface. Her eyes grew wet, her cheek white. Her proud figure shrank. Sheturned and looked back at her husband. Not for one instant did sheappropriate the compliment to herself. "This is for _you_!" her spiritcalled out to him, while a new pride dawned in her working face. 

Forty years had she spent apologizing for Abraham, and now sheunderstood how these twenty-nine generous old hearts had raided him tothe pedestal of a hero, while she stood a heroine beside him. Angy itwas who trembled now, and Abe, gaining a manly courage from that, tookhold of her arm to steady her--they had paused on a step near the footof the stairs--and, looking around with his whimsical smile, he demandedof the bedecked company in general, "Ladies, be yew 'spectin' thePresident?"

Cackle went the cracked old voices of the twenty-nine in a chorus ofappreciative laughter, while the old heads bobbed at one another as ifto say, "Won't he be an acquisition?" And then, from among the groupthere came forward Blossy--Blossy, who had sacrificed most that thisshould come to pass; Blossy, who had sat till midnight painting thegold-and-blue ribbons; Blossy, the pride and beauty of the Home, in adelicate, old, yellow, real lace gown. She held her two hands gracefullyand mysteriously behind her back as she advanced to the foot of thestairs. Looking steadily into Abraham's eyes, she kept a-smiling untilhe felt as if the warmth of a belated spring had beamed upon him. 

"The President!" Her mellow, well-modulated voice shook, and she laughedwith a mingling of generous joy and tender pity. "Are we expecting thePresident? You dear modest man! We are welcoming--_you_!"

Abe looked to Angy as if to say, "How shall I take it?" and behold! themiracle of his wife's bosom swelling and swelling with pride in him. Heturned back, for Blossy was making a speech. His hand to his head, hebent his good ear to listen. In terms poetical and touching shedescribed the loneliness of the life at the Home as it had been with noman under the roof of the house and only a deaf-and-dumb gardener, whohated her sex, in the barn. Then in contrast she painted life as it mustbe for the sisters now that the thirty tender vines had found a stanchold oak for their clinging. "Me?" queried Abraham of himself and, withanother silent glance, of Angy. 

But what was this? Blossy, leading all the others in a resounding callof "Welcome!" and then Blossy drawing her two hands from behind herback. One held a huge blue cup, the other, the saucer to match. Sheplaced the cup in the saucer and held it out to Abraham. He trudged downthe few steps to receive it, unashamed now of the tears that courseddown his cheeks. With a burst of delight he perceived that it was amustache cup, such as the one he had always used at home until it hadbeen set for safe-keeping on the top pantry shelf to await the auction, where it had brought the price of eleven cents with half a paper oftacks thrown in. 

And now as the tears cleared away he saw also, what Angy's eyes hadalready noted, the inscription in warm crimson letters on the shiningblue side of the cup, "To Our Beloved Brother. "

"Sisters, " he mumbled, for he could do no more than mumble as he tookhis gift, "ef yew'd been gittin' ready fer me six months, yew couldn'thave done no better. "

V

THE HEAD OF THE CORNER

Everybody wore their company manners to the breakfast-table--the firsttime in the whole history of the Home when company manners had gracedthe initial meal of the day. Being pleasant at supper was easy enough, Aunt Nancy used to say, for every one save the unreasonablycantankerous, and being agreeable at dinner was not especiallydifficult; but no one short of a saint could be expected to smile ofmornings until sufficient time had been given to discover whether onehad stepped out on the wrong or the right side of the bed. 

This morning, however, no time was needed to demonstrate that everybodyin the place had gotten out on the happy side of his couch. Even thedeaf-and-dumb gardener had untwisted his surly temper, and as Abrahamentered the dining-room, looked in at the east window with aconciliatory grin and nod which said as plainly as words:

"'T is a welcome sight indeed to see one of my own kind around thisestablishment!"

"Why don't he come in?" questioned Abe, waving back a greeting as wellas he could with the treasured cup in one of his hands and the saucer inthe other; whereupon Sarah Jane, that ugly duckling, explained that thefellow, being a confirmed woman-hater, cooked all his own meals in thesmokehouse, and insisted upon all his orders being left on a slateoutside the tool-house door. Abe sniffed disdainfully, contemplating herhomely countenance, over which this morning's mood had cast a notunlovely, transforming glow. 

"Why, the scalawag!" He frowned so at the face in the window that itimmediately disappeared. "Yew don't mean ter tell me he's sot ag'in' yewgals? He must be crazy! Sech a handsome, clever set o' women I never didsee!"

Sarah Jane blushed to the roots of her thin, straight hair and sat down, suddenly disarmed of every porcupine quill that she had hidden underher wings; while there was an agreeable little stir among the sisters. 

"Set deown, all hands! Set deown!" enjoined Miss Abigail, flutteringabout with the heaviness of a fat goose. "Brother Abe, --that 's whatwe've all agreed to call yew, by unanimous vote, --yew set right here atthe foot of the table. Aunt Nancy always had the head an' me the foot;but I only kept the foot, partly becuz thar wa'n't no man fer the place, an' partly becuz I was tew sizable ter squeeze in any-whar else. Seein'as Sister Angy is sech a leetle mite, though, I guess she kin easy makeroom fer me t' other side o' her. "

Abe could only bow his thanks as he put his gift down on the table andtook the prominent place assigned to him. The others seated, there wasa solemn moment of waiting with bowed heads. Aunt Nancy's tremblingvoice arose, --the voice which had jealously guarded the right of sayinggrace at table in the Old Ladies' Home for twenty years, --not, however, in the customary words of thanksgiving, but in a peremptory "BrotherAbe!"

Abraham looked up. Could she possibly mean that he was to establishhimself as the head of the household by repeating grace? "Brother Abe!"she called upon him again. "Yew've askt a blessin' fer one woman fermany a year; supposin' neow yew ask it fer thirty!"

Amid the amazement of the other sisters, Abe mumbled, and muttered, andmurmured--no one knew what words; but all understood the overwhelminggratitude behind his incoherency, and all joined heartily in the Amen. Then, while Mrs. Homan, the cook of the week, went bustling out into thekitchen, Aunt Nancy felt that it devolved upon her to explain heraction. It would never do, she thought, for her to gain a reputation forself-effacement and sweetness of disposition at her time of life. 

"Son, I want yew ter understand one thing naow at the start. Yew treatus right, an' we'll treat yew right. That's all we ask o' yew. MissEllie, pass the radishes. "

"I'll do my best, " Abe hastened to assure her. "Hy-guy, that coffeesmells some kind o' good, don't it? Between the smell o' the stuff an'the looks o' my cup, it'll be so temptin' that I'll wish I had the neckof a gi-raffe, an' could taste it all the way deown. Angy, I be afraidwe'll git the gout a-livin' so high. Look at this here cream!"

Smiling, appreciative, his lips insisting upon joking to cover thenatural feeling of embarrassment incident to this first meal among thesisters, but with his voice breaking now and again with emotion, whilefrom time to time he had to steal his handkerchief to his old eyes, Abepassed successfully through the--to him--elaborate breakfast. And Angysat in rapt silence, but with her face shining so that her quiet was thestillness of eloquence. Once Abe startled them all by rising stealthilyfrom the table and seizing the morning's newspaper which lay upon thebuffet. 

"I knowed it!" caviled Lazy Daisy _sotto voce_ to no one in particular. "He couldn't wait for the news till he was through eatin'!" But Abe hadfolded the paper into a stout weapon, and, creeping toward the window, despatched by a quick, adroit movement a fly which had alighted upon thescreen. 

"I hate the very sight o' them air pesky critters, " he explained halfapologetically. "Thar, thar's another one, " and slaughtered that. 

"My, but yew kin git 'em, can't yew?" spoke Miss Abigail admiringly. "Them tew be the very ones I tried ter ketch all day yiste'day; I kinsee as a fly-ketcher yew be a-goin' ter be wuth a farm ter me. Setdeown an' try some o' this here strawberry presarve. "

But Abe protested that he could not eat another bite unless he shouldget up and run around the house to "joggle deown" what he had alreadyswallowed. He leaned back in his chair and surveyed the family: on hisright, generous-hearted Blossy, who had been smiling approval andencouragement at him all through the repast; at his left, and justbeyond Angy, Miss Abigail indulging in what remained on the dishes nowthat she discovered the others to have finished; Aunt Nancy keenlywatching him from the head of the board; and all the other sisters"betwixt an' between. "

He caught Mrs. Homan's eye where she stood in the doorway leading intothe kitchen, and remarked pleasantly: "Ma'am, yew oughter set up apancake shop in 'York. Yew could make a fortune at it. I hain't had secha meal o' vittles sence I turned fifty year o' age. "

A flattered smile overspread Mrs. Homan's visage, and the other sisters, noting it, wondered how long it would be before she showed her claws inAbraham's presence. 

"Hy-guy, Angy, " Abe went on, "yew can't believe nothin' yew hear, kinyer? Why, folks have told me that yew ladies--What yew hittin' my footfer, Mother? Folks have told me, " a twinkle of amusement in his eye atthe absurdity, "that yew fight among yerselves like cats an' dogs, when, law! I never see sech a clever lot o' women gathered tergether in allmy life. An' I believe--Mother, I hain't a-sayin' nothin'! I jest wantter let 'em know what I think on 'em. I believe that thar must be threehunderd hearts in this here place 'stid o' thirty. But dew yew know, gals, folks outside even go so fur's ter say that yew throw plates atone another!"

There was a moment's silence; then a little gasp first from one and thenfrom another of the group. Every one looked at Mrs. Homan, and from Mrs. Homan to Sarah Jane. Mrs. Homan tightened her grip on the pancaketurner; Sarah Jane uneasily moved her long fingers within reach of asturdy little red-and-white pepper-pot. Another moment passed, in whichthe air seemed filled with the promise of an electric storm. ThenBlossy spoke hurriedly--Blossy the tactician, clasping her handstogether and bringing Abe's attention to herself. 

"Really! You surprise me! You don't mean to say that folks talk about uslike that!"

"Slander is a dretful long-legged critter, " amended Miss Abigail, smiling and sighing in the same breath. 

"Sary Jane, " inquired Mrs. Homan sweetly, "what 's the matter with thatpepper-pot? Does it need fillin'?"

And so began the reign of peace in the Old Ladies' Home. 

VI

INDIAN SUMMER

Miss Abigail had not banked in vain on the "foresightedness of theLord. " At the end of six months, instead of there being a shortage inher accounts because of Abe's presence, she was able to show thedirectors such a balance-sheet as excelled all her previous commendablerecords. 

"How do you explain it?" they asked her. 

"We cast our bread on the waters, " she answered, "an' Providence jestkept a-handin' out the loaves. " Again she said, "'T was grinnin' thatdone it. Brother Abe he kept the gardener good-natured, an' the gardenerhe jest grinned at the garden sass until it was ashamed not terflourish; an' Brother Abe kept the gals good-natured an' they wa'n't so_niasy_ about what they eat; an' he kept the visitors a-laughin' jestter see him here, an' when yew make folks laugh they want ter turnaround an' dew somethin' fer yew. I tell yew, ef yew kin only keep griternough ter grin, yew kin drive away a drought. "

In truth, there had been no drought in the garden that summer, butalmost a double yield of corn and beans; no drought in the gifts sent tothe Home, but showers of plenty. Some of these came in the form of freshfish and clams left at the back door; some in luscious fruits; some inbarrels of clothing. And the barrels of clothing solved another problem;for no longer did their contents consist solely of articles of feminineattire. "Biled shirts" poured out of them; socks and breeches, derbyhats, coats and negligees; until Aunt Nancy with a humorous twist to herthin lips inquired if there were thirty men in this establishment andone woman. 

"I never thought I'd come to wearin' a quilted silk basque with tosselson it, " Abe remarked one day on being urged to try on a handsomesmoking-jacket. "Dew I look like one of them sissy-boys, er jest adude?"

"It's dretful becoming, " insisted Angy, "bewtiful! Ain't it, gals?"

Every old lady nodded her head with an air of proud proprietorship, asif to say, "Nothing could fail to become _our_ brother. " And Angy noddedher head, too, in delighted approval of their appreciation of "ourbrother" and "my husband. "

Beautiful, joy-steeped, pleasure-filled days these were for the couple, who had been cramped for life's smallest necessities so many meageryears. Angy felt that she had been made miraculously young by the birthof this new Abraham--almost as if at last she had been given the son forwhom in her youth she had prayed with impassioned appeal. Her old-wifelove became rejuvenated into a curious mixture of proud mother-love andyoung-wife leaning, as she saw Abe win every heart and become thecenter of the community. 

"Why, the sisters all think the sun rises an' sets in him, " Angy wouldwhisper to herself sometimes, awed by the glorious wonder of it all. 

The sisters fairly vied with one another to see how much each could dofor the one man among them. Their own preferences and prejudices weremagnanimously thrust aside. In a body they besought their guest to smokeas freely in the house as out of doors. Miss Abigail even traded some ofher garden produce for tobacco, while Miss Ellie made the old gentlemana tobacco-pouch of red flannel so generous in its proportions that on apinch it could be used as a chest-protector. 

Then Ruby Lee, not to be outdone by anybody, produced, from no one everdiscovered where, a mother-of-pearl manicure set for the delight andmystification of the hero; and even Lazy Daisy went so far as to cutsome red and yellow tissue-paper into squares under the delusion thatsome time, somehow, she would find the energy to roll these into spillsfor the lighting of Abe's pipe. And each and every sister from time totime contributed some gift or suggestion to her "brother's" comfort. 

It "plagued" the others, however, to see that none of them could getahead of Blossy in their noble endeavors to make Abraham feel himself alight and welcome burden. She it was who discovered that Abe'scontentment could not be absolute without griddle-cakes for breakfastthree hundred and sixty-five times a year; she it was who first bakedhim little saucer-cakes and pies because he was partial to edges; andBlossy it was who made out a list of "Don'ts" for the sisters to followin their treatment of this grown-up, young-old boy. 

"Don't scold him when he leaves the doors open. Don't tell him to wipehis feet. Don't ever mention gold-mines or shiftless husbands, " etc. , etc. 

All these triumphs of Blossy's intuition served naturally to spur theothers on to do even more for Brother Abe than they had already done, until the old man began to worry for fear that he should "git sp'ilt. "When he lay down for his afternoon nap and the house was dull and quietwithout his waking presence, the ladies would gather in groups outsidehis door as if in a king's antechamber, waiting for him to awaken, saying to one another ever and again, "Sh, sh!" He professed to scoff atthe attentions he received, would grunt and growl "Humbug!" yetnevertheless he thrived in this latter-day sunlight. His old bones tookon flesh. His aged kindly face, all seamed with care as it had been, filled out, the wrinkles turning into twinkles. Abraham had grown youngagain. With the return of his youth came the spirit of youth to the OldLadies' Home. Verily, verily, as Blossy had avowed from the first, theyhad been in sore need of the masculine presence. The ancient coat andhat which had hung in the hall so long had perhaps served its purposein keeping the burglars away, but this lifeless substitute had notprevented the crabbed gnomes of loneliness and discontent from stealingin. Spinster, wife, and widow, they had every one been warped by thetesty just-so-ness of the old maid. 

Now, instead of fretful discussions of health and food, recriminationsand wrangling, there came to be laughter and good-humored chatter allthe day long, each sister striving with all her strength to preserve thenew-found harmony of the Home. There were musical evenings, when MissAbigail opened the melodeon and played "Old Hundred, " and Abraham wasencouraged to pick out with one stiff forefinger "My Grandfather'sClock. " "Hymn tunes" were sung in chorus; and then, in answer to Abe'sappeal for something livelier, there came time-tried ditties and old, old love-songs. And at last, one night, after leaving the instrumentsilent, mute in the corner of the parlor for many years, Aunt NancySmith dragged out her harp, and, seating herself, reached out herknotted, trembling hands and brought forth what seemed the very echo, sofaint and faltering it was, of "Douglas, Douglas, Tender and True. "

There was a long silence after she had finished, her head bowed on herchest, her hands dropped to her sides. Abraham spoke first, clearing histhroat before he could make the words come. 

"_I_ wish I could git a husband fer every one of yer, " said he. 

And no one was angry, and no one laughed; for they all knew that he wasonly seeking to express the message conveyed by Nancy's playing--themessage of Love, Love triumphant, which cannot age, which over the yearsand over Death itself always hath the victory. 

VII

OLD LETTERS AND NEW

Blossy left the room without a word, and went stealing up the stairs tothe little cupboard where she now slept, and where was hung on the wall, in a frame of yellow hollyhocks, painted by her own hand, a photographof Captain Samuel Darby, the man who had remained obstinately devoted toher since her days of pinafores. 

The picture betrayed that Captain Darby wore a wig designed for a largerman, and that the visage beneath was gnarled and weather-beaten, markedwith the signs of a stubborn and unreasonable will. 

Even now the aged belle could hear him saying: "Here I be, come eroundter pop ag'in. Ready ter hitch?"

Samuel's inelegant English had always been a source of distress toBlossy; yet still she stared long at the picture. 

Six months had passed since his last visit; to-morrow would be the dateof his winter advent. 

Should she give the old unvarying answer to his tireless formula?

She glanced around the tiny room. Ashamed though she was to admit iteven to herself, she missed that ample and cozy chamber which she had sofreely surrendered to Abraham and his wife. She missed it, as she feltthey must crave their very own fireside; and the thought that theymissed the old homestead made her yearn for the home that she might havehad--the home that she still might have. 

Again she brought her eyes back to the portrait; and now she saw, notthe characteristics which had always made it seem impossible for her andSamuel to jog together down life's road, but the great truth that theface was honest and wholesome, while the eyes looked back into hers withthe promise of an unswerving care and affection. 

The next morning found Blossy kneeling before a plump, little, leather-bound, time-worn trunk which she kept under the eaves of thekitchen chamber. The trunk was packed hard with bundles of old letters. Some her younger fingers had tied with violet ribbon; some they hadbound with pink; others she had fastened together with white silk cord;and there were more and more bundles, both slim and stout, which Blossyhad distinguished by some special hue of ribbon in the long ago, eachtint marking a different suitor's missives. 

To her still sentimental eye the colors remained unfaded, and each wouldbring to her mind instantly the picture of the writer as he had been inthe golden days. But save to Blossy's eye alone there were no longer anyrainbow tints in the little, old trunk; for every ribbon and every cordhad faded into that musty, yellow brown which is dyed by the passing ofmany years. 

Abraham discovered her there, too engrossed in the perusal of one ofthe old letters to have heeded his creaking steps upon the stairs. 

"Didn't see yer, till I 'most stumbled on yer, " he began apologetically. "I come fer the apple-picker. Thar's a handful of russets in the orchardyit, that's calc'latin' ter spend Christmas up close ter heaven;but--Say, Blossy, " he added more loudly, since she did not raise herhead, "yew seen anythin' o' that air picker?"

Blossy glanced up from her ragged-edged crackly _billet-doux_ with astart, and dropped the envelop to the floor. 

For the moment, so deep in reminiscence was she, she thought CaptainDarby himself had surprised her; then, recognizing Abe and recallingthat Samuel's winter visits were invariably paid in the afternoon, shebroke into a shamefaced laugh. 

"Oh, is that you, Brother Abe? Don't tell the others what you found medoing. These, " with a wave of her delicate, blue-veined hands over thetrunk and its contents, "are all old love-letters of mine. Do you thinkI'm a silly old goose to keep them cluttering around so long?"

"Wa'al, "--Abe with an equally deprecatory gesture indicated Angy'shorsehair trunk in the far corner of the loft, --"yew ain't no morefoolisher, I guess, over yer old trash 'n me an' Angy be a-keepin' thatair minin' stock of mine. One lot is wuth 'bout as much as t'other. "

Recovering the envelop that she had dropped, he squinted at thesuperscription. "Not meanin' ter be inquisitive or personal, SisterBlossy, " a teasing twinkle appearing in his eye, "but this looks dretfulfamilitary, this here handwritin' does. When I run the beach--yew'veheard me tell of the time I was on the Life-savin' Crew over ter BleakHill fer a spell--my cap'n he had a fist jest like that. Useter make outthe spickest, spannest reports. Lemme see, " the twinkle deepening, "didn't the gals say yew was a 'spectin' somebody ter-day? Law, I ain'tsaw Cap'n Sam'l fer ten year or more. I guess on these here poppin'trips o' his'n he hain't wastin' time on no men-folks. But, Blossy, yewbetter give me a chance ter talk to him this arternoon, an' mebbe I'llspeak a good word fer yer. "

Blossy, not always keen to see a joke, and with her vanity now in theascendant, felt the color rise into her withered cheek. 

"Oh, you needn't take the trouble to speak a good word for me. Any manwho could ever write a letter like this doesn't need to be coaxed. Justlisten:

"The man you take for a mate is the luckiest dog in the whole roundworld. I'd rather be him than king of all the countries on earth. I'drather be him than strike a gold-mine reaching from here to China. I'drather be him than master of the finest vessel that ever sailed bluewater. That's what I would. Why, the man who couldn't be happy with youwould spill tears all over heaven. "

Blossy's cheek was still flushed, but no longer with pique. Her voicequavered, and broke; and finally there fell upon the faded page of theletter two sparkling tears. 

Abraham shuffled uncomfortably from one foot to the other; then, muttering something about the "pesky apple-hook, " went scuffing acrossthe floor in the direction of the chimney. 

Blossy, however, called him back. "I was crying, Brother Abe, becausethe man I did take for a mate once was not happy, and--and neither wasI. I was utterly wretched; so that I've always felt I never cared tomarry again. And--and Samuel's wig is always slipping down over one eye, and I simply cannot endure that trick he has of carrying his head to oneside, as if he had a left-handed spell of the mumps. It nearly drives mefrantic. 

"Brother Abe, now tell me honestly: do you think he would make a goodhusband?"

Abe cleared his throat. Blossy was in earnest. Blossy could not belaughed at. She was his friend, and Angy's friend; and she had come tohim as to a brother for advice. He too had known Samuel as man to man, which was more than any of the sisters could say. 

Stroking his beard thoughtfully, therefore, he seated himself upon aconvenient wooden chest, while Blossy slipped her old love-letter in andout of the envelop, with that essentially feminine manner of weighingand considering. 

"Naow, " began Abe at length, "this is somep'n that requires keerfuldebatin'. Fust off, haowsomever, yew must remember that wigs an' waysnever made a man yit. Ez I riccollec' Sam'l, he was pooty good ez mengo. I should say he wouldn't be any more of a risk tew yew than I wastew Angy; mebbe less. He's got quite a leetle laid by, I understand, an'a tidy story-an'-a-half house, an' front stoop, an', by golly, can't hecook! He's a splendid housekeeper. "

"Housewifery, " remarked Blossy sagely, as she began to gather hermissives together, "is an accomplishment to be scorned in a younghusband, but not in an old one. They say there hasn't been a womaninside Samuel's house since he built it, but it's as clean as soap andsand can make it. "

"I bet yer, " agreed Abe. "Hain't never been no fly inside it, neither, I warrant yer. Fly can't light arter Sam'l's cleanin' up nohaow; he'sgot ter skate. "

"He says he built that little house for me, " said the old lady, as sheclosed down the lid of the trunk. There was a wistful note in Blossy'svoice, which made Abraham declare with a burst of sympathy:

"'T ain't no disgrace ter git married at no time of life. Sam'l's a goodpervider; why don't yew snap him up ter-day? We'll miss yew a lot;but--"

"Here's the apple-picker right over your head, " interrupted Blossytartly, and Abe felt himself peremptorily dismissed. 

Scarcely had he left the attic, however, than she too hastened down thesteep, narrow stairs. She spent the remaining hours before train-time indonning her beautiful lace gown, and in making the woman within it asyoung and ravishing as possible. And lovely, indeed, Blossy looked thisday, with a natural flush of excitement on her cheek, a new sparkle inher bright, dark eyes, and with her white hair arranged in a fashionwhich might have excited a young girl's envy. 

The hour for the train came and went, and, lo! for the first time in thehistory of twenty years Captain Darby did not appear. 

Blossy pretended to be relieved, protesting that she was delighted tofind that she would now have an extra hour in which to ponder thequestion. But the second train came and went, and still no CaptainDarby. 

All the afternoon long Blossy wore her lace gown, thinking althoughthere were no more trains from the eastward that day, that Samuel wouldstill find his way to her. He might drive, as he usually did in June, orhe might even walk from his home at Twin Coves, she said. 

At night, however, she was obliged to admit that he could not be coming;and then, quivering with honest anxiety for her old friend, Blossydipped into her emergency fund, which she kept in the heart of a littlepink china pig on a shelf in her room, --a pink china pig with a lid madeof stiff black hair standing on edge in the middle of his back, --andsent a telegram to Captain Darby, asking if he were sick. 

The answer came back slowly by mail, to find Blossy on the verge of anervous collapse, under the care of all the women in the house. 

That letter Blossy never showed to Brother Abe, nor to any one else. Neither did she treasure it in the sentimental trunk beneath the atticeaves. The letter ran:

DEAR BETSY ANN: I never felt better in my life. Ain't been sick aminute. Just made up my mind I was a old fool, and was going to quit. Ifyou change your intentions at any time, just drop me a postal. As ever, SAM'L DARBY, ESQ. 

"This, Captain Darby, makes your rejection final, " vowed Blossy toherself, as she tore the note into fragments and drowned them in thespirits of lavender with which the sisters had been seeking to sootheher distracted nerves. 

VIII

THE ANNIVERSARY

About this time Blossy developed a tendency to draw Brother Abrahamaside at every opportunity, convenient or inconvenient, in order to putsuch questions as these to him:

"Did you say it is fully thirty-five years since you and Captain Darbywere on the beach together? Do you think he has grown much older? Had helost his hair then? Did he care for the opposite sex? Was he verybrave--or would you say more brave than stubborn and contrary? Isn't ita blessing that I never married him?"

Fearful of the ridicule of the sisters, Blossy was always careful toconduct these inquiries in whispers, or at least in undertones with agreat observance of secrecy, sometimes stopping Abe on the stairs, sometimes beckoning him to her side when she was busy about herhousehold tasks on the pretense of requiring his assistance. On oneoccasion she even went so far as to inveigle him into holding a skein ofwool about his clumsy hands, while she wound the violet worsted into aball, and delicately inquired if he believed Samuel spoke the truth whenhe had protested that he had never paid court to any other woman. 

Alas, Blossy's frequent tete-a-tetes with the amused but sometimesimpatient Abraham started an exceedingly foolish suspicion. When, askedthe sisters of one another, did Abe ever help any one, save Blossy, shell dried beans or pick over prunes? When had he ever been known tohold wool for Angy's winding? Not once since wooing-time, I warrant you. What could this continual hobnobbing and going off into corners mean, except--flirtation?

Ruby Lee whispered it first into Aunt Nancy's good ear. Aunt Nancyindulged in four pinches of snuff in rapid succession, sneezed anamazing number of times, and then acridly informed Ruby Lee that she wasa "jealous cat" and always had been one. 

However, Aunt Nancy could not refrain from carrying the gossip to MissEllie, adding that she herself had been suspicious of Abe's behaviorfrom the start. 

"Oh, no, no!" cried the shocked and shrinking spinster. "And Angy socheerful all the time? I don't believe it. "

But whisper, whisper, buzz, buzz, went the gossip, until finally itreached the pink little ears at the side of Miss Abigail's generouslyproportioned head. The pink ears turned crimson, likewise the adjoiningcheeks, and Miss Abigail panted with righteous indignation. 

"It all comes of this plagued old winter-time, " she declared, sharplybiting her thread, for she was mending a table-cloth. "Shet the winderson summer, an' yew ketch the tail of slander in the latch every time. Naow, ef I hear one word about this 'tarnal foolishness comin' toAngy's ears, or Brother Abe's, or Blossy's either, fer that matter, we'll all have to eat off'n oil-cloth Sundays, the same as weekdays, until I see a more Christian sperit in the house. "

She gave the Sunday damask across her lap a pat which showed she was inearnest; and the rebuked sisters glanced at one another, as if to say:

"Suppose the minister should walk in some Sabbath afternoon and findoil-cloth on the table, and ask the reason why?"

They one and all determined to take Aunt Nancy's advice and "sew abutton on their lips. "

Fortunately, too, the February thaws had already set in, and theremainder of the winter passed without any severe strain on the"buttonholes. " And at length the welcome spring began to peep forth, calling to the old folks, "Come out, and grow young with the youngyear!"

With the bursting forth of the new springtide the winter's talk seemedto drop as a withered and dead oak-leaf falls from its winter-boundbranches; and Abe stood once more alive to the blessings of renewedapproval. 

Angy went out of doors with Miss Abigail, and puttered around among theflowers as if they were her own, thanking God for Abe's increasingpopularity in the same breath that she gave thanks for the new buds ofthe spring. 

The anniversary of the Roses' entrance into the Home drew nearer, andBlossy suggested that the best way to celebrate the event would be bymeans of a "pink tea. "

Neither Angy nor Abe, nor in fact half the sisters, had any clearconception of what a tinted function might be; but they one and allseized upon Blossy's idea as if it were a veritable inspiration, and forthe time jealousies were forgotten, misunderstandings erased. 

Such preparations as were made for that tea! The deaf-and-dumb gardenerwas sent with a detachment of small boys to fetch from the wayside andmeadows armfuls of wild roses for the decorations. Miss Abigail madepink icing for the cake. Ruby Lee hung bleeding-hearts over thedining-room door. Aunt Nancy resurrected from the bottom of her trunk awhite lace cap with a rakish-looking pink bow for an adornment, andfastened it to her scant gray hairs in honor of the occasion. Blossyturned her pink china pig, his lid left up-stairs, into a sugar-bowl. 

Pink, pink, pink, everywhere; even in Angy's proud cheeks! Pink, andpink, and pink! Abe used to grow dizzy, afterward, trying to recall thevarious pink articles which graced that tea. 

But most delightful surprise of all was his anniversary gift, which wasslyly slipped to his place after the discussion of the rose-coloredstrawberry gelatin. It was a square, five-pound parcel wrapped in pinktissue-paper, tied with pink string, and found to contain so muchVirginia tobacco, which Blossy had inveigled an old Southern admirerinto sending her for "charitable purposes. "

After the presentation of this valuable gift, Abraham felt that the timehad come for him to make a speech--practically his maiden speech. 

He said at the beginning, more suavely at his ease than he would havebelieved possible, secure of sympathy and approbation, with Angy'sglowing old eyes upon her prodigy, that all the while he had been at theHome, he had never before felt the power to express his gratitude forthe welcome which had been accorded him--the welcome which seemed towear and wear, as if it were all wool and a yard wide, and could neverwear out. 

The old ladies nodded their heads in approval of this, every facebeaming; but as the speech went on the others perceived that Abe hadsingled out Blossy for special mention, --blind, blind Abraham!--Blossy, who had first proposed admitting him into this paradise; Blossy, who hadgiven up her sunny south chamber to his comfort and Angy's; Blossy, whohad been as a "guardeen angel" to him; Blossy, who as a fitting climaxto all her sisterly attentions had given him to-day this wonderful, wonderful pink tea, and "this five hull pound o' Virginny terbaccer. "

He held the parcel close to his bosom, and went on, still praisingBlossy, --this innocent old gentleman, --heedless of Angy's gentle tug athis coat-tail; while Blossy buried her absurdly lovely old face in thepink flush of a wild-rose spray, and the other old ladies stared fromhim to her, their faces growing hard and cold. 

When Abraham sat down, aglow with pride over his oratorical triumphs, his chest expanded, his countenance wrinkled into a thousand guileless, grateful smiles, there was absolute silence. 

Then Blossy, her head still bowed as if in shy confusion, began to clapher hands daintily together, whereat a few of the others joined herhalf-heartedly. A sense of chill crept over Abraham. Accustomed as arule to deferential attention, did he but say good-morning, by no meansaware that his throne had toppled during the winter, he was stillforced to perceive that something had gone amiss. 

As always when aught troubled his mind, "Father" turned to Angy; butinstead of his composed and resourceful little wife he found ascared-faced and trembling woman. Angy had suddenly become conscious ofthe shadow of the green-eyed monster. Angy's loyal heart was crying outto her mate: "Don't git the sisters daown on yer, Abe, 'cuz then, mebbe, yew'll lose yer hum!" But poor Angeline's lips were so stiff with terrorover the prospect of the County House for her husband, that she couldnot persuade them to speech. 

Abraham, completely at sea, turned next to her whom he had called hisguardian angel; but Blossy was rising from her seat, a baffling smileof expectancy on her face, the rose spray swinging in her delicate handas if to the measure of some music too far back in youth for any oneelse to hear. Blossy had worn that expectant look all day. She mighthave been delightedly hugging to herself a secret which she had notshared even with the trusted Abraham. She was gowned in her yellow lace, the beauty and grace of which had defied the changing fashions asBlossy's remarkable elegance of appearance had defied the passing of theyears. 

"Brother Abe, "--in her heedlessness of the mischief she had wrought, Blossy seemed almost to sing, --"I never shall forget your speech as longas I live. Will you excuse me now?"

She swept out of the door, her skirts rustling behind her. 

Abe collected himself so far as to bow in the direction she had taken;then with lamblike eyes of inquiry met the exasperated glances cast uponhim. 

Not a sister moved or spoke. They all sat as if glued to their chairs, in a silence that was fast growing appalling. 

Abe turned his head and looked behind his chair for an explanation; butnothing met his eye, save the familiar picture on the wall of two whitekittens playing in the midst of a huge bunch of purple lilacs. 

Then there broke upon the stillness the quavering old voice of AuntNancy, from her place opposite Abe's at the head of the board. The ageddame had her two hands clasped before her on the edge of the table, vainly trying to steady their palsied shaking. Her eyes, bright, piercing, age-defying, she fixed upon the bewildered Abraham with a lookof deep and sorrowful reproach. Her unsteady head bobbed backward andforward with many an accusing nod, and the cap with its rakish pink bowbobbed backward and forward too. Abe watched her, fascinated, unconsciously wondering, even in the midst of his disquietude, why thecap did not slide off her bald scalp entirely. To his amazement, sheaddressed not himself, but Angy. 

"Sister Rose, yew kin leave the room. " Implacable purpose spoke in AuntNancy's tone. Angy started, looked up, going first red and then white;but she did not move. She opened her lips to speak. 

"I don't want ter hear a word from yew, nor anybody else, " sternlyinterposed Aunt Nancy. "I'm old enough ter be yer mother. Go up-stairs!"

Angy's glance sought Miss Abigail, but the matron's eyes avoided hers. The little wife sighed, rose reluctantly, dropped her hand doubtfullyreassuring on Abe's shoulder, and then went obediently to the door. 

From the threshold she looked wistfully back; but an imperious wave fromAunt Nancy banished her altogether, and Abe found himself alone--notwith the sisters whom he loved, but with twenty-eight hard-visagedstrangers. 

IX

A WINTER BUTTERFLY

"Cap'n Rose, " began Aunt Nancy. Brother Abe pricked up his eats at theformal address. "Cap'n Rose, " she repeated, deliberately dwelling on thetitle. "I never believe in callin' a man tew account in front of hiswife. It gives him somebody handy ter blame things on tew jest like oleAdam. Naow, look a-here! What I want is ter ask yew jest one question:Whar, whar on 'arth kin we look fer a decent behavin' ole man ef not ina Old Ladies' Hum? Would yew--" she exhorted earnestly, pointing hercrooked forefinger at him. "Would yew--"

Abraham caught his breath. Beads of sweat had appeared on his brow. Hebroke in huskily:

"Wait a minute, Aunt Nancy. Jest tell me what I've been an' done. "

The ladies glanced at one another, contemptuous, incredulous smiles ontheir faces, while Aunt Nancy almost wept at his deceitfulness. 

"Cap'n Rose, " she vowed mournfully, "I've lived in this house fer many, many years, an' all the while I been here I never hearn tell o' a breatho' scandal ag'in' the place until yew come an' commenced ter kick up yerheels. "

Lazy Daisy, who had long been an inmate, also nodded her unwieldy headin confirmation, while a low murmur of assent arose from the others. Abraham could only pass his hand over his brow, uneasily shuffle hismaligned heels over the floor and await further developments; for he didnot have the slightest conception as to "what they were driving at. "

"Cap'n Rose, " the matriarch proceeded, as in the earnestness of herindignation she arose, trembling, in her seat and stood with her palsiedand shaking hands on the board, "Cap'n Rose, yer conduct with this hereMis' Betsey Ann Blossom has been somethin' _ree_diculous! It's beendisgraceful!"

Aunt Nancy sat down, incongruously disreputable in appearance, her pinkbow having slipped down over her right ear during the harangue. Overthe culprit's countenance light had dawned, but, shame to tell! it was alight not wholly remorseful. Then silent laughter shook the old man'sshoulders, and then--could it be?--there crept about his lips and eyes asmile of superbly masculine conceit. The sisters were fighting over him. Wouldn't Mother be amused when he should tell her what all this fuss wasabout. 

Now, kindly, short-sighted Miss Abigail determined that it was time forthe matron's voice to be heard. 

"Of course, Brother Abe, we understand perfectly that yew never stoppedter take inter consideration haow susceptible some folks is made. "

There being plain evidence from Abe's blank expression that he did notunderstand the meaning of the word, Ruby Lee hastened to explain. 

"Susceptible is the same as flighty-headed. Blossy allers was a foolover anything that wore breeches. "

Abe pushed his chair back from the table and crossed his legscomfortably. For him all the chill had gone out of the air. Suppose thatthere was something in this? An old, old devil of vanity came back tothe aged husband's heart. He recalled that he had been somewhat of abeau before he learned the joy of loving Angy. More than one Long Islandlassie had thrown herself at his head. Of course Blossy would "get over"this; and Angy knew that his heart was hers as much as it had been theday he purchased his wedding-beaver; but Abe could not refrain from achuckle of complacent amusement as he stroked his beard. 

His very evident hardness of heart so horrified the old ladies that theyall began to attack him at once. 

"Seems ter me I'd have the decency ter show some shame!" grimly avowedSarah Jane. 

Abe could not help it. He sputtered. Even Miss Abigail's, "Yew were astranger an' we took yew in" did not sober him. 

"Ef any one o' my husbands had acted the way you've acted, Abe Rose, "began Mrs. Homan. 

"Poor leetle Angy, " broke in the gentle Miss Ellie pityingly. "She must'a' lost six pounds. "

Abraham's mobile face clouded over. 

"Angy?" he faltered. "Yew don't mean that Angy--" Silence again fell onthe group, while every glance was fastened on Abraham. "See here, " heflashed his faded blue eye, "Angy's got more sense than that!"

No one answered, but there was a significant shrugging of shoulders andlifting of eyebrows. Abraham was distressed and concerned enough now. Rising from his place he besought the sisters:

"Yew don't think Angy's feelin's have been hurt--dew yew, gals?"

Their faces softened, their figures relaxed, the tide of feeling changedin Abraham's favor. Miss Ellie spoke very softly:

"Yew know that even 'the Lord thy God is a jealous God. '"

Abraham grasped the back of his chair for support, his figure growinglimp with astonishment. "Mother, jealous of me?" he whispered tohimself, the memory of all the years and all the great happenings of allthe years coming back to him. "Mother jealous of me?" He remembered howhe had once been tormented by jealousy in the long, the ever-so-longago, and of a sudden he hastened into the hall and went half-running upthe stairs. He took hold of the latch of his bedroom door. It did notopen. The door was locked. 

"Angy!" he called, a fear of he knew not what gripping at his heart. "Angy!" he repeated as she did not answer. 

The little old wife had locked herself in out of very shame of the raretears which had been brought to the surface by the sisters' crueltreatment of Abraham. When she heard his call she hastened to the bluewash-basin and began hurriedly to dab her eyes. He would be alarmed ifhe saw the traces of her weeping. Whatever had happened to him, for hissake she must face it valiantly. He called again. Again she did notanswer, knowing that her voice would be full of the telltale tears. Abewaited. He heard the tramp of feet passing out of the dining-room intothe hall. He heard Blossy emerge from her room at the end of the passageand go tripping down the stairs. The time to Angy, guiltily bathing herface, was short; the time to her anxious husband unaccountably long. The sound of wheels driving up to the front door came to Abe's ears. Still Angy made him no response. 

"Angy!" he raised his voice in piteous pleading. What mattered if thesisters gathered in the lower hall heard him? What mattered if thechance guest who had just arrived heard him also? He had his peace tomake with his wife and he would make it. "Angy!"

She flung the door open hastily. The signs of the tears had not beenobliterated, and her face was drawn and old. Straightway she put herhand on his arm and searched his face inquiringly. 

"What did the gals say ter yew?" she whispered. "Abe, yew made a mistakewhen yew picked out Bl--"

"Poor leetle Mother!" he interrupted. "Poor leetle Mother!" a world ofremorseful pity in his tone. "So yew been jealous of yer ole man?"

Angeline, astonished and indignant, withdrew her hand sharply, demandingto know if he had lost his senses; but the blinded old gentleman slippedhis arm around her and, bending, brushed his lips against her cheek. "Thar, thar, " he murmured soothingly, "I didn't mean no harm. I can'thelp it ef all the gals git stuck on me!"

Before Angy could make any reply, Blossy called to the couple softly butinsistently from the foot of the stairs; and Angy, wrenching herselffree, hastened down the steps, for once in her life glad to get awayfrom Abe. He lost no time in following. No matter where Angy went, hewould follow until all was well between her and him again. 

But what was this? At the landing, Angy halted and so did Abe, for inthe center of the sisters stood Blossy with her Sunday bonnet perched onher silver-gold hair and her white India shawl over her shoulders, andbeside Blossy stood Captain Samuel Darby with a countenance exceedinglyradiant, his hand clasped fast in that of the aged beauty. 

"Oh, hurry, Sister Angy and Brother Abe!" called Blossy. "We werewaiting for you, and I've got some news for all my friends. " She waitedsmilingly for them to join the others; then with a gesture whichincluded every member of the household, she proceeded: "The pink tea, Iwant you all to know, had a double significance, and first, of course, it was to celebrate the anniversary of Brother Abe's sojourn with us;but next it was my farewell to the Home. " Here Blossy gurgled and gavethe man at her right so coy a glance that Samuel's face flamed red andhe hung his head lower to one side than usual, like a little boy thathad been caught stealing apples. "I left the tea a trifle early--youmust forgive me, Brother Abe, but I heard the train-whistle. " Abe stoodbeside Angeline, rooted in astonishment, while Blossy continued toaddress him directly. "You gave Samuel so many good recommendations, dear brother, that when the time approached for his June visit, I feltthat I simply could not let him miss it as he did in December. Lastyear, on the day you entered, he was here through no desire of mine. To-day he is here at my request. My friends, " again she included theentire Home in her glance, "we'll come back a little later to sayGood-by. Now, we're on the way to the minister's. "

The pair, Samuel tongue-tied and bewildered by the joy of his finallywon success, moved toward the door. On the threshold of the Home Blossyturned and waved farewell to the companions of her widowhood, whileSamuel bowed in a dazed fashion, his face still as red as it wasblissful. Then quickly the two passed out upon the porch. No one movedto see them off. Abe looked everywhere yet nowhere at all. Not a wordwas spoken even when the carriage was heard rolling down the drive; butthe sound of the wheels seemed to arouse Angy from her stupor ofamazement; and presently Abraham became conscious of a touch, --a touchsympathetic, tender and true, --a touch all-understanding--the touch ofAngy's hand within his own. 

X

THE TURN OF THE TIDE

From time immemorial the history of the popular hero has ever been thesame. To king and patriot, to the favorite girl at school and the smallboy who is leader of the "gang, " to politician, to preacher, to actorand author, comes first worship then eclipse. The great Napoleon did notescape this common fate; and the public idol who was kissed onlyyesterday for his gallant deeds is scorned to-day for having permittedthe kissing. Oh, caprice of the human heart! Oh, cry of the race for theunaccustomed!

From that first anniversary of his entrance into the Home, Abraham felthis popularity decrease--in fact more than decrease. He saw theweather-vane go square about, and where he had known for three hundredand sixty-five days the gentle, balmy feel of the southwest zephyr, hefound himself standing of a sudden in a cold, bleak northeast wind. Thechange bewildered the old man, and reacted on his disposition. As he hadblossomed in the sunshine, so now he began to droop in the shade. Feeling that he was suspected and criticized, he began to growsuspicious and fault-finding himself. His old notion that he had noright to take a woman's place in the Institution came back to his brain, and he would brood over it for hours at a time, sitting out on theporch with his pipe and Angy. 

The old wife grieved to think that Father was growing old and beginningto show his years. She made him some tansy tea, but neither herpersuasions nor those of the whole household could induce him to takeit. He had never liked "doctoring" anyway, although he had submitted toit more or less during the past year in unconscious subservience to hisdesire to increase his popularity; but now he fancied that where once hehad been served as a king by all these female attendants, he was simplybeing "pestered" as a punishment for his past behavior with Blossy. Ah, with its surprising ending that had been a humiliating affair; and hefelt too that he would be long in forgiving Mrs. Darby for not havingconfided to him her actual intentions. Now he was afraid to be decentlycourteous to one of the sisters for fear that they might accuse him oflight dalliance again; and he scarcely ever addressed the new member whocame to take Blossy's little room, for he had been cut to the quick byher look of astonishment when she was told that he belonged there. 

In his mental ferment the old man began to nag at Angy. Sad though it isto confess of a hero honestly loved, Abraham had nagged a little all hismarried life when things went wrong. And Angeline, fretted and nervous, herself worried almost sick over Father's condition, was guilty once ina while out of the depths of her anxiety of nagging back again. So dowe hurt those whom we love best as we would and could hurt no other. 

"I told yer I never could stand it here amongst all these drattedwomen-folks, " Abe would declare. "It's all your fault that I didn't go tothe poorhouse in peace. "

"I notice yew didn't raise no objections until yew'd lived here a year, "Angy would retort; but ignoring this remark, he would go on:

"It's 'Brother Abe' this an' 'Brother Abe' that! as ef I had thirtywives a-pesterin' me instid of one. I can't kill a fly but it's 'BrotherAbe, lemme bury him fer yew. ' Do yer all think I be a baby?" demandedthe old gentleman with glaring eye. "I guess I'm able ter do somethin'fer myself once in a while. I hain't so old as some folks might think, "he continued with superb inconsistence. "I be a mere child compared withthat air plagued Nancy Smith. "

It took very little to exhaust Angy's ability for this style ofrepartee, and she would rejoin with tender but mistaken efforts tosoothe and comfort him:

"Thar, thar, Father! don't git excited neow. Seems ter me ye 're aleetle bit feverish. Ef only yew 'd take this here tansy tea. "

Abraham would give one exasperated glance at the tin cup and mutter intothe depths of his beard:

"Tansy tea an' old women! Old women an' tansy tea! Tansy tea be durned!"

Abe failed perceptibly during the summer, grew feebler as the autumnwinds blew in, and by November he took to his bed and the physician ofthe Home, a little whiffet of a pompous idiot, was called to attend him. The doctor, determined at the start to make a severe case of the oldman's affliction in order that he might have the greater glory in theend, be it good or bad, looked very grave over Abraham's tongue andpulse, prescribed medicine for every half-hour, and laid especial stressupon the necessity of keeping the patient in bed. 

"Humbug!" growled the secretly terrified invalid, and in an excess ofbravado took his black silk necktie from where it hung on the bedpostand tied it in a bow-knot around the collar of his pink-stripednightshirt, so that he would be in proper shape to receive any of thesisters. Then he lay very still, his eyes closed, as they came tiptoeingin and out. Their tongues were on gentle tiptoe too, although not sogentle but that he could hear them advising: one, a "good, stiff mustardplaster"; one, an "onion poultice"; another, a "Spanish blister"; whileAunt Nancy stopped short of nothing less than "old-fashioned bleeding. "Abe lay very still and wondered if they meant to kill him. He wasprobably going to die anyhow, so why torment him. Only when he was dead, he hoped that they would think more kindly of him. And so surrounded yetalone, the old man fought his secret terror until mercifully he went tosleep. 

When he awoke there were the sisters again; and day after day theyspent their combined efforts in keeping him on his back and forcing himto take his medicine, the only appreciable good resulting therefrombeing the fact that with this tax upon their devotion the old ladiescame once more to regard Abe as the most precious possession of theHome. 

"What ef he should die?" they whispered among themselves, repentantenough of their late condemnation of him and already desolate at thethought of his leaving this little haven with them for the "great haven"over there; and the whisper reaching the sickroom, Abe's fever wouldrise, while he could never lift his lashes except to see the specter ofhelpless old age on one side of the bed and death upon the other. 

"What's the matter with me?" he demanded of the doctor, as one who wouldsay: "Pooh! pooh! You're a humbug! What do you mean by keeping me inbed?" Yet the old man was trembling with that inner fear. The physician, a feminine kind of a bearded creature himself, took Abe's hand inhis--an engaging trick he had with the old ladies. 

"Now, my friend, do not distress yourself. Of course, you are a verysick man; I cannot deceive you as to that; but during my professionalcareer, I have seen some remarkable cases of recovery and--"

"But what's the matter with me?" broke in Abe, by this time fairly whitewith fear. The doctor had assured him that all his organs were sound, so he could only conclude that he must have one of those unusualdiseases such as Miss Abigail was reading about in the paper yesterday. Maybe, although his legs were so thin to-day, he was on the verge of anattack of elephantiasis!

"What's the matter with me?" he repeated, his eyes growing wilder andwilder. 

What the doctor really replied would be difficult to tell; but out ofthe confusion of his technicalities Abe caught the words, "nerves" and"hysteria. "

"Mother, yew hear that?" he cried. "I got narvous hysterics. I told yersomethin' would happen ter me a-comin' to this here place. All them oldwoman's diseases is ketchin'. Why on 'arth didn't yer let me go to thepoorhouse?"

He fell back on the pillow and drew the bedclothes up to his ears, whileAngy followed the doctor out into the hall to receive, as Abe supposed, a more detailed description of his malady. He felt too weak, however, toquestion Angy when she returned, and stubbornly kept his eyes closeduntil he heard Mrs. Homan tiptoe into the room to announce in hushedtones that Blossy and Samuel Darby were below, and Samuel wanted to knowif he might see the invalid. 

Then Abe threw off the covers in a hurry and sat up. "Sam'l Darby?" heasked, the strength coming back into his voice. "A man! Nary a womanner a doctor! Yes--yes, show him up!"

Angy nodded in response to Mrs. Homan's glance of inquiry; for had notthe doctor told her that it would not hasten the end to humor thepatient in any reasonable whim? And she also consented to withdraw whenAbe informed her that he wished to be left alone with his visitor, as itwas so long since he had been face to face with a man "an' no petticoata-hangin' 'round the corner. "

"Naow, be keerful, Cap'n Darby, " the little mother-wife cautioned at thedoor, "be very keerful. Don't stay tew long an' don't rile him up, ferhe's dretful excited, Abe is. "

XI

MENTAL TREATMENT

Little Samuel Darby paused at the foot of the bed and stared at Abewithout saying a word, while Abe fixed his dim, distressed eyes on hisvisitor with a dumb appeal for assistance. Samuel looked a verydifferent man from the old bachelor who used to come a-wooing every sixmonths at the Home. Either marriage had brought him a new growth ofhair, or else Blossy had selected a new wig for him--a modest, close, iron-gray which fitted his poll to perfection. Marriage or Blossy hadalso overcome in Samuel that tendency to hang his head "to starb'd";and now he lifted his bright eyes with the manner of one who would say:

"See! I'm king of myself and my household! Behold what one woman hasdone for me!" And in turn Abe's unstrung vigor and feeble dependencecried out as loudly: "I haven't a leg left to stand on. Behold what toomuch woman has done for me!"

"Ain't yew a-goin' ter shake hands?" inquired Abraham at last, wonderingat the long silence and the incomprehensible stare, his fearsaccentuated by this seeming indication of a supreme and hopeless pity. "Ain't yew a-goin' ter shake hands? Er be yew afeard of ketchin' it, tew?"

For a moment longer Samuel continued to stare, then of a sudden heroared, "Git up!"

"Huh?" queried Abe, not believing his own ears. "Why, Cap'n Sam'l, don'tyew know that I'm a doomed man? I got the 'narvous hysterics. '"

"Yew got the pip!" retorted Captain Darby contemptuously, and trottingquickly around to the side of the bed, he seized Abe by the shouldersand began to drag him out upon the floor, crying again, "Git up!"

The sick man could account for this remarkable behavior in no way exceptby concluding that his old captain had gone into senile dementia--oh, cruel, cruel afflictions that life brings to old folks when life isalmost done! Well, thought Abe, he would rather be sick and die in hisright mind than go crazy. He began to whimper, whereupon Samuel threwhim back upon his pillows in disgust. 

"Cryin'! Oh, I swan, he's cryin'!" Darby gave a short laugh pregnantwith scorn. "Abe Rose, dew yew know what ails yew?" he demanded fixinghis eyes fiercely upon the invalid. "Dew yew know what'll happen tew yewef yew don't git out o' this bed an' this here house? Either yerbeard'll fall out an' yew'll dwindle deown ter the size o' a baby oryew'll turn into a downright old woman--Aunt Abraham!--won't that soundnice? Or yew'll die or yew'll go crazy. _Git out er bed!_"

The patient shook his head and sank back, closing his eyes, moreexhausted than ever. And he himself had heard Angy warn this man in awhisper not to "rile him up!" Remorselessly went on the rejuvenatedDarby:

"Hain't a-goin' ter git up, heh? Yew old mollycoddle! Yew baby! Old Lady31! Kiffy calf! But I hain't a-blamin' yew; ef I had lived in this hereplace a year an' a half, I'd be stark, starin' mad! Leetletootsie-wootsie! _Git up_!"

Abe had opened his eyes and was once more staring at the other, his mindslowly coming to the light of the realization that Samuel might be moresane than himself. 

"That's what I told Angy all along, " he ventured. "I told her, I says, says I, 'Humbug! Foolishness! Ye 're a-makin' a reg'lar baby of me. Why, ' I says, 'what's the difference between me an' these herewomen-folks except that I wear a beard an' smoke a pipe?'"

"Then why don't yew git up?" demanded the inexorable Samuel. "Git up an'fool 'em; or, gosh-all-hemlock! they'll be measurin' yew fer yer coffinnext week. When I come inter the hall, what dew yew think these heresisters o' yourn was a-discussin'? They was a-arguin' the p'int as towhether they'd bury yew in a shroud or yer Sunday suit. "

Abraham put one foot out of bed. Samuel took hold of his arm and withthis assistance the old man managed to get up entirely and stand, thoughshaking as if with the palsy, upon the floor. 

"Feel pooty good, don't yew?" demanded Samuel, but with less severity. 

"A leetle soft, a leetle soft, " muttered the other. "Gimme my cane. Thar, ef one o' them women comes in the door I'll--I'll--" Abrahamraised his stick and shook it at the innocent air. "Whar's my pipe? Mis'Homan, she went an' hid it last week. "

After some searching, Samuel found the pipe in Abe's hat-box underneaththe old man's beaver, and produced from his own pocket a package oftobacco, whereupon the two sat down for a quiet smoke, Samuel chucklingto himself every now and again, Abe modestly seeking from time to timeto cover his bare legs with the skirt of his pink-striped night-robe, not daring to reach for a blanket lest Samuel should call him namesagain. With the very first puff of his pipe, the light had come backinto the invalid's eyes; with the second, the ashen hue completely lefthis cheek; and when he had pulled the tenth time on the pipe, Abe wasready to laugh at the sisters, the whole world, and even himself. 

"Hy-guy, but it's splendid to feel like a man ag'in!"

The witch of Hawthorne's story never gazed more fondly at her"Feathertop" than Samuel now gazed at Abraham puffing away on his pipe;but he determined that Abraham's fate should not be as poor"Feathertop's. " Abe must remain a man. 

"Naow look a-here, Abe, " he began after a while, laying his hand on theother's knee, "dew yew know that yew come put' nigh gittin' swamped inthe big breakers? Ef I hadn't come along an' throwed out the life-line, yew--"

"Sam'l, " interrupted the new Abraham, not without a touch of asperity, "whar yew been these six months? A-leavin' me ter die of apron-stringsan' doctors! Of course I didn't 'spect nuthin' o' yew when yew was jista bachelor, an' we'd sort o' lost sight er each other fer many a year, but arter yew got connected with the Hum by marriage sorter--"

"Connected with the Hum by marriage!" broke in Samuel with a snort ofindignant protest. "Me!" Words failed him. He stared at Abe with burningeyes, but Abe only insisted sullenly:

"Whar yew an' Blossy been all this time?"

"Dew yew mean ter tell me, Abe Rose, that yew didn't know that AuntNancy forbid Blossy the house 'cause she didn't go an' ask herpermission ter git spliced? Oh, I fergot, " he added. "Yew'd goneup-stairs ter take a nap that day we come back from the minister's. "

Abraham flushed. He did not care to recall Samuel's wedding-day. Hehastened to ask the other what had decided him and Blossy to come to-day, and was informed that Miss Abigail had written to tell Blossy that ifshe ever expected to see her "Brother Abe" alive again, she must comeover to Shoreville at the earliest possible moment. 

"Then I says ter Blossy, " concluded Captain Darby, "I says, says I, 'Jest lemme see that air pore old hen-pecked Abe Rose. I'll kill him ercure him!' I says. Here, yer pipe 's out. Light up ag'in!"

Abe struck the match with a trembling hand, unnerved once more by thespeculation as to what might have happened had Samuel's treatment workedthe other way. 

"I left Blossy an' Aunt Nancy a-huggin' an' a-kissin' down-stairs. "

Abe sighed: "Aunt Nancy allers was more bark than bite. "

"Humph! Barkin' cats must be tryin' ter live with. Abe, " he tapped theold man's knee again, "dew yew know what yew need? A leetle vacation, achange of air. Yew want ter cut loose from this all-fired old ladies'shebang an' go sky-larkin'. " Abe hung on Samuel's words, his eyesa-twinkle with anticipation. "Yes--yes, go sky-larkin'! Won't we makethings hum?"

"Thar's hummin' an' hummin', " objected Abe, with a sudden show ofcaution. "Miss Abigail thinks more o' wash-day than some folks does o'heaven. Wharabouts dew yew cak'late on a-goin'?"

"Tew Bleak Hill!"

Abraham's face lost its cautious look, his eyes sparkled once more. Goback to the Life-saving Station where he had worked in his lustyyouth--back to the sound of the surf upon the shore, back to the pinesand cedars of the Beach, out of the bondage of dry old lavender to thegoodly fragrance of balsam and sea-salt! Back to active life among men!

"Men, men, nawthin' but men!" Samuel exploded as if he had read theother's thought. "Nawthin' but men fer a hull week, that's myperscription fer yew! Haow dew yew feel naow, mate?"

For answer Abe made a quick spring out of his chair, and in his barefeet commenced to dance a gentle, rheumatic-toe-considering breakdown, crying, "Hy-guy, Cap'n Sam'l, you've saved my life!" While Darby clappedhis hands together, proud beyond measure at his success as theemancipator of his woman-ridden friend. 

Neither heard the door open nor saw Angy standing on the threshold, halfparalyzed with fear and amazement, thinking that she was witnessing themad delirium of a dying man, until she called out her husband's name. At the sound of her frightened voice, Abe stopped short and reached forthe blanket with which to cover himself. 

"Naow don't git skeered, Mother, don't git skeered, " he abjured her. "I'm all right in my head. Cap'n Sam'l here, he brung me some wonderfulmedicine. He--"

"Blossy said you did!" interrupted Angy, a light of intense gratitudeflashing across her face as she turned eagerly to Darby. "Lemme see thebottle. "

"I chucked it out o' the winder, " affirmed Samuel without winking, andAbe hastened to draw Angy's attention back to himself. 

"See, Mother, I kin stand as good as anybody; hain't got no fever; Ikin walk alone. Yew seen me dancin' jest naow, tew. An' ef I had thatpesky leetle banty rooster of a doctor here, I'd kick him all the waydeown-stairs. Cap'n Sam'l's wuth twenty-five o' him. "

"Yew kept the perscription, didn't yer, cap'n?" demanded Angy. "Naow efhe should be took ag'in an'--"

Samuel turned away and coughed. 

"Mother, Mother, " cried Abe, "shet the door an' come set deown er allthe sisters'll come a-pilin' in. I've had a invite, I have!"

Angy closed the door and came forward, her wary suspicious eye trailingfrom the visitor to her husband. 

"Hy-guy, ain't it splendid!" Abe burst forth. "Me an' Cap'n Sam'l hereis a-goin' over ter Bleak Hill fer a week. "

"Bleak Hill in December!" Angy cried, aghast. "Naow, see here, Father, "resolutely, "medicine er no medicine--"

"He's got ter git hardened up, " firmly interposed Dr. Darby; "it'll bethe makin' o' him. "

Angy turned on Samuel with ruffled feathers. 

"He'll freeze ter death. Yew shan't--"

Here Abe's stubborn will, so rarely set against Angy's gentlepersistence, rose up in defiance:

"We're a-gwine on a reg'lar A No. 1 spree with the boys, an' nowomen-folks is a-goin' ter stop us neither. "

"When?" asked Angy faintly, feeling Abe's brow, but to her surprisefinding it cool and healthy. 

"Ter-morrer!" proclaimed Samuel; whereupon Abe looked a little dubiousand lifted up his two feet, wrapped as they were in the blanket, todetermine the present strength of his legs. 

"Don't yer think yer'd better make it day after ter-morrer?" heventured. 

"Or 'long erbout May er June?" Angy hastily amended. 

Samuel gave an exasperated grunt. 

"See here, whose spree is this?" Abe demanded of the little old wife. 

She sighed, then resolved on strategy:

"Naow, Abe, ef yew be bound an' possessed ter go ter the Beach, yew go;but I'm a-goin' a-visitin' tew, an' I couldn't git the pair o' us readyinside a week. I'm a-goin' deown ter see Blossy. She ast me jist naow, pendin', she says, Cap'n Sam'l here cures Abe up ernough ter git himoff. I thought she was crazy then. "

Samuel knocked the ashes out of his pipe against the window-sill andarose to go. 

"Waal, " he said grudgingly, "make it a week from ter-day then, rainshine, snow er blow, er a blizzard. Ef yer ever a-goin' ter githardened, Abe, naow's the time! I'll drive over 'long erbout ten o'clockan' git somebody ter sail us from here; er ef the bay freezes over'twixt naow an' then, ter take us in a scooter. "

A "scooter, " it may be explained, is an ice-boat peculiar to the GreatSouth Bay--a sort of modified dingy on runners. 

"Yes--yes, a scooter, " repeated Samuel, turning suddenly on Abe with thesharp inquiry: "Air yew a-shiverin'? Hain't, eh? Waal then, a week fromter-day, so be it!" he ended. "But me an' Blossy is a-comin' ter see yewoff an' on pooty frequent meanstwhile; an', Abe, ef ever I ketch yewa-layin' abed, I'll leave yew ter yer own destruction. "

XII

"A PASSEL OF MEDDLERS"

Angy's secret hope that Abe would change his mind and abandon theprojected trip to the Beach remained unfulfilled, in spite of the factthat cold weather suddenly descended on the South Side, and the baybecame first "scummed" over with ice, and then frozen so solid that allits usual craft disappeared, and the "scooters" took possession of thefield. 

Abe and Samuel held stubbornly to their reckless intentions; and thesisters, sharing Angy's anxiety, grew solicitous almost to the point ofactive interference. They withheld nothing in the way of counsel, criticism, or admonition which could be offered. 

"Naow, " said Mrs. Homan in her most commanding tones at the end of afinal discussion in the big hall, on the evening before the date set fordeparture, "ef yew're bound, bent, an' determined, Brother Abe, to runin the face of Providence, yew want tew mind one thing, an' wear yerbest set of flannels ter-morrer. "

"Sho, thar hain't no danger of me ketchin' cold, " decried Abe. 

"I didn't say yer thickest set of flannels; I said yer best. When a mangits throwed out onto the ice ker flump, the thickness of his clo'esain't goin' to help him much. The fust thing I allus taught my husbandswas to have everything clean an' whole on, when thar was any likelihoodof a sudden death. "

"Yew 'spect me tew go an' prink up fer a sudden death?" thunderedAbraham. "I hain't never heard tell on a scooter a-killin' nobody yit;it's them plagued ice-boats up State what--"

"That's all very well, " persisted Mrs. Homan, not to be diverted fromher subject; "but when old Dr. Billings got run over by the train atMastic Crossin' on Fourth o' July eight year ago, his wife told me withher own lips that she never would git over it, cuz he had his hull bigtoe stickin' out o' the end of his stockin'. I tell yew, these dayswe've got tew prepare fer a violent end. "

The patient Angy somewhat tartly retorted, that during the last weekshe had spent even more time upon Father's wardrobe than she had uponher own; while Abe inwardly rejoiced to think that for seven days tocome--seven whole days--he and Angy would be free from the surveillanceof the sisters. 

Mrs. Homan, in no way nonplussed, boomed on:

"Thar, I most fergot about his necktie. 'Course, they don't dress upmuch at the Station; but jest the same that air tie o' yourn, BrotherAbe, is a disgrace. I told yew yew'd spile it a-wearin' it tew bed. Naow, I got a red an' green plaid what belonged to my second stepson, Henry O. He never would 'a' died o' pneumony, either, ef he'd a-took myadvice an' made himself a newspaper nightcap last time he substitutedwith the 'Savers. An' yew kin have that necktie jest as well as not. Naow, don't say a word; I'm better able to part with it 'n yew be not totake it. "

No one ever attempted the fruitless task of stopping Mrs. Homan oncefully launched; but when at last she permitted her back to rest againsther chair, folding her arms with the manner of one who makes a sacrificein a worthy cause, Abe broke into an explosive protest. 

If any one fretted him in his somewhat fretful convalescence, it wasthis grenadier member of the household, who since Blossy's marriage hadendeavored to fill the vacant post of "guardeen angel. "

"Mis' Homan, " he sputtered, rising to his feet, "I wouldn't wear a redan' green plaid tie to a eel's funeral!"

Then with a somewhat ungracious "good-night" to the company in general, he trudged across the hall and up the stairs, muttering something tohimself about a "passel of meddlers. "

Well-meaning Miss Abigail, who had been nodding half asleep, rousedherself to call after him, and he paused unwillingly to heed. 

"Naow, don't yew lose no sleep ter-night, " she admonished, "a-worryin'erbout the change in yer vittles. I told Cap'n Sam'l that hardtack an'sech like wouldn't never do fer yer weak stummick, an' he promised mefaithful he'd send somebody tew the mainland every day fer milk. "

"Dew yew think I be a baby?" shouted Abraham, turning on his heel. "Iknow now what makes my teeth so sore lately, " mumbling to himself; "it'sfrom this here arrer-root an' all these puddin'y messes. They needhardenin', tew. "

XIII

THE PRODIGAL'S DEPARTURE

Abraham was up betimes in the morning to greet a day crisp and cold, quiet, yet with sufficient breeze stirring the evergreens in the yardoutside to make him predict a speedy voyage. 

The old man was nervous and excited, and, in spite of his buoyantanticipations, somewhat oppressed, now that the day had actually come, with a sense of timidity and fear. Still, he put on a bold face whileAngeline fastened his refractory collar and tied his cravat. 

This was neither Mrs. Roman's offering nor Abe's own old, frayed tie, but a new black one which had mysteriously been thrust through the crackunder the door during the night. 

So, the last finishing touches having been put upon his toilet, and Angyhaving made ready by lamplight for her own trip, even before the old manwas awake, there seemed nothing left to be done until the breakfast bellshould ring. 

Abe sat down, and looking hard at his open carpet-bag wondered audiblyif they had "everythin' in. " The last time they two had packed Abe'swardrobe for a visit to Bleak Hill had been many years ago, when SamuelDarby, though somewhat Abe's junior, was keeper of the Life-savingStation, and Abe was to be gone for a whole season's duty. Then all ofhis possessions had been stowed in a long, bolster-like canvas bag forthe short voyage. 

Both Angy and her husband recalled that time now--the occasion of theirfirst, and almost of their last, real separation. 

"A week'll pass in no time, " murmured Angy very quickly, with a catch inher voice. "Lookin' ahead, though, seven days seems awful long when yerold; but--Oh, law, yes; a week'll pass in no time, " she repeated. "Onlydew be keerful, Abe, an' don't take cold. "

She perched herself on her little horsehair trunk which she had packedto take to Blossy's, looking in her time-worn silk gown like a rustyblackbird, and, like a bird, she bent her head first to one side andthen the other, surveying Abe in his "barrel clothes" with a criticalbut complimentary eye. 

"Wonder who made that necktie?" she questioned. "I'll bet yer 't wasAunt Nancy; she's got a sharp tongue, but a lot of silk pieces an' atender spot in her heart fer yew, Abe. Ruby Lee says she never thoughtyew'd bring her around; yew're dretful takin' in yer ways, Father, thar's no use a-talkin'. "

Abraham glanced at himself in the glass, and pulled at his beard, hiscountenance not altogether free from a self-conscious vanity. 

"I hain't sech a bad-lookin' feller when I'm dressed up, be I, Mother? Idunno ez it's so much fer folks ter say I look like Abe Lincoln, afterall; he was dretful humbly. "

"Father, " Angy said coaxingly, "why don't yer put some o' that air'sweet stuff' Miss Abigail give yer on yer hair? She'll feel real hurtef she don't smell it on yer when yew go down-stairs. "

Abe made a wry face, took up the tiny bottle of "Jockey Club, " andrubbed a few drops on his hands. His hands would wash, and so he couldfind some way of removing the odor before he reached the stationand--the men. 

"I'll be some glad ter git away from these here fussy old hens fer aspell, " he grumbled, as he slammed the vial back on the bureau; but Angylooked so reproachful and grieved that he felt ashamed of hisingratitude, and asked with more gentleness:

"Yew goin' ter miss me, Mother?"

Then the old wife was ashamed to find herself shaking of a sudden, andgrown wretchedly afraid--afraid of the separation, afraid of the"hardening" process, afraid of she knew not what. 

"I'm glad 't ain't goin' ter be fer all winter this time, " she saidsimply; then arose to open the door in order that he might not see therush of tears to her foolish, old eyes. 

According to the arrangement, Captain Darby was to drive over from TwinCoves with his hired man, and Ezra, after taking the two old men to thebay, was to return to the Home for Angy and her little trunk. 

When Samuel drove up to the front door, he found Abe pacing the porch, his coat-collar turned up about his neck, his shabby fur cap pulled overhis brow, his carpet-bag on the step, and, piled on the bench at theside of the door, an assortment of woolen articles fully six feet high, which afterward developed to be shawls, capes, hoods, comforters, wristlets, leggings, nubias, fascinators, guernseys, blankets, andcoats. 

Abe was fuming and indignant, scornful of the contributions, and vowingthat, though the sisters might regard a scooter as a freightocean-liner, he would carry nothing with him but what he wore and hiscarpet-bag. 

"An' right yer be, " pronounced Samuel, with a glance at the laden benchand a shake of his head which said as plainly as words, "Brother, fromwhat am I not delivering thee?"

The sisters came bustling out of the door, Mrs. Homan in the lead, Angysubmerged in the crowd, and from that moment there was such a fuss, somuch excitement, so many instructions and directions for the twoadventurers, that Abraham found himself in the carriage before he hadkissed Angy good-by. 

He had shaken hands, perhaps not altogether graciously, with every oneelse, even with the deaf-and-dumb gardener who came out of hishiding-place to witness the setting-out. Being dared to by all theyounger sisters, he had waggishly brushed his beard against Aunt NancySmith's cheek, and then he had taken his place beside Samuel without atouch or word of parting to his wife. 

He turned in his seat to wave to the group on the porch, his eyesresting in a sudden hunger upon Angeline's frail, slender figure, as heremembered. She knew that he had forgotten in the flurry of hisleave-taking, and she would have hastened down the steps to stop thecarriage; but all the old ladies were there to see, and she simplystood, and gazed after the vehicle as it rolled away slowly behind thejog trot of Samuel's safe, old calico-horse. She stood and looked, holding her chin very high, and trying to check its unsteadiness. 

A sense of loneliness and desolation fell over the Home. Piece by piecethe sisters put away all the clothing they had offered in vain to Abe. They said that the house was already dull without his presence. MissAbigail began to plan what she should have for dinner the day of hisreturn. 

No one seemed to notice Angy. She felt that her own departure wouldcreate scarcely a stir; for, without Abraham, she was only one of agroup of poor, old women in a semi-charity home. 

Slowly she started up the stairs for her bonnet and the old brocheshawl. When she reached the landing, where lay the knitted mat of thethree-star pattern, the matron called up to her in tragic tones:

"Angy Rose, I jest thought of it. He never kissed yew good-by!"

Angy turned, her small, slender feet sinking deep into one of thewoolly stars, her slim figure encircled by the light from the upper hallwindow. She saw a dozen faces uplifted to her, and she answered withquiet dignity:

"Abe wouldn't think of kissin' me afore folks. "

Then quickly she turned again, and went to her room--their room--whereshe seated herself at the window, and pressed her hand against her heartwhich hurt with a new, strange, unfamiliar pain, a pain that she couldnot have shown "afore folks. "

XIV

CUTTING THE APRON-STRINGS

The usual hardy pleasure-seekers that gather at the foot of Shore Lanewhenever the bay becomes a field of ice and a field of sport as wellwere there to see the old men arrive, and as they stepped out of thecarriage there came forward from among the group gathered about the fireon the beach the editor of the "Shoreville Herald. "

Ever since his entrance into the Old Ladies' Home, Abe had never stoppedchafing in secret over the fact that until he died, and no doubtreceived a worthy obituary, he might never again "have his name in thepaper. "

In former days the successive editors of the local sheet had beenwilling, nay, eager, to chronicle his doings and Angy's, whether Abe'sold enemy, rheumatism, won a new victory over him or Angy's secondcousin Ruth came from Riverhead to spend the day or--wonder indeed torelate!--the old man mended his roof or painted the front fence. Nomatter what happened of consequence to Captain and Mrs. Rose, Mr. Editorhad always been zealous to retail the news--before the auction sale oftheir household effects marked the death of the old couple, and of Abeespecially, to the social world of Shoreville. What man would care toread his name between the lines of such a news item as this?

The Old Ladies' Home is making preparations for its annual quiltingbee. Donations of worsted, cotton batting, and linings will begratefully received. 

Mr. Editor touched his cap to the two old men. He was a keen-faced, boyish little man with a laugh bigger than himself, but he always wore aworried air the day before his paper, a weekly, went to press, and hewore that worried look now. Touching his hand to his fur cap, heinformed Samuel and Abe that news was "as scarce as hens' teeth"; thenadded: "What's doing?"

"Oh, nawthin', nawthin', " hastily replied Samuel, who believed that hehated publicity, as he gave Abe's foot a sly kick. "We was jest a-gwineter take a leetle scooter sail. " He adjusted the skirt of his coat inan effort to hide Abe's carpet-bag, his own canvas satchel, and a hugemarket-basket of good things which Blossy had cooked for thelife-savers. "Seen anythink of that air Eph Seaman?" Samuel added;shading his eyes with his hand and peering out upon the gleaming surfaceof the bay, over which the white sails of scooters were darting like aflock of huge, single-winged birds. 

"Eph's racing with Captain Bill Green, " replied the newspaper man. "Captain Bill's got an extra set of new runners at the side of hisscooter and wants to test them. Say, boys, " looking from one to theother of the old fellows, "so you're going scootering, eh? Lively sport!Cold kind of sport for men of your age. Do you know, I've a good mindto run in to-morrow an article on 'Long Island and Longevity, ' Takinghead-line, eh? Captain Rose, " turning to Abe as Samuel would do no morethan glower at him, "to what do you attribute your good health at yourtime of life?"

Abe grinned all over his face and cleared his throat importantly, butbefore he could answer, Samuel growled:

"Ter me! His health an' his life both. I dragged him up out of adeathbed only a week ago. "

The editor took out his note-book and began scribbling. 

"What brought you so low, Captain Rose?" he inquired without glancingup. Again, before Abe could answer, Samuel trod on his toe. 

"Thirty mollycoddling women-folks. "

Abe found his voice and slammed the fist of one hand against the palm ofthe other. 

"If you go an' put that in the paper, I'll--I'll--"

Words failed him. He could see the sisters fairly fighting for thepossession of the "Shoreville Herald" to-morrow evening, as they alwaysscrambled each for the first glance at the only copy taken at the Home, and he could hear one reading his name aloud--reading of the blackingratitude of their brother member. 

"Jest say, " he added eagerly, "that the time fer old folks ter stickhome under the cellar-door has passed, an' nobody is tew old ter goa-gallivantin' nowadays. An' then yew might mention"--the old man'sface was shining now as he imagined Angy's pleasure--"that Mis' Rose isgone deown ter Twin Coves ter visit Mis' Sam'l Darby fer a week, an'Cap'n Darby an' Cap'n Abraham Rose, " his breast swelling out, "isa-goin' ter spend a week at Bleak Hill. Thar, hain't that Cap'n Epha-scootin' in naow? I guess them air new runners o' Bill Green's didn'twork. He hain't nowhere in sight. He--"

"Le' 's be a-gwine, Abe, " interrupted Samuel, and leaving the editorstill scribbling, he led the way down the bank with a determined trudge, his market-basket in one hand, his grip in the other, and his lipsmuttering that "a feller couldn't dew nuthin' in Shoreville withoutgittin' his name in the paper. " But a moment later, when the two werewalking gingerly over the ice to the spot where Eph had drawn hisscooter to a standstill, Samuel fell into a self-congratulatory chuckle. 

"He didn't find out though that I had my reasons fer leavin' home tew. Women-folks, be it only one, hain't good all the time fer nobody. I cometer see Blossy twict a year afore we was married reg'lar; an' naow, Icak'late ter leave her twict a year fer a spell. A week onct every sixmonths separate an' apart, " proceeded the recently made benedict, "iswhat makes a man an' his wife learn haow ter put up with one another inbetween-times. "

"Why, me an' Angy, " began Abe, "have lived tergether year in an' yearout fer--"

"All aboard!" interrupted Captain Eph with a shout. "It's a fair wind. Ibet on making it in five minutes and fifty seconds!"

Seven minutes had been the record time for the five-mile sail over theice to Bleak Hill, but Samuel and Abe, both vowing delightedly that theskipper couldn't go too fast for them, stepped into the body of the boatand squatted down on the hard boards. They grinned at each other as thescooter started and Eph jumped aboard--grinned and waved to the peopleon the shore, their proud old thoughts crying:

"I guess folks will see now that we're as young as we ever was!"

They continued to grin as the boat spun into full flight and wentwhizzing over the ice, whizzing and bumping and bouncing. Both theirfaces grew red, their two pairs of eyes began to water, their teethbegan to chatter; but Samuel shouted at the top of his voice in defianceof the gale:

"Abe, we've cut the apron-strings!"

"Hy-guy!" Abe shouted in return, his heart flying as fast as the sail, back to youth and manhood again, back to truant-days and thevacation-time of boyhood. "Hy-guy, Sam'l! Hain't we a-gwine ter have areg'lar A No. 1 spree!"

XV

THE "HARDENING" PROCESS

The Life-saving Station was very still. Nos. 3 and 5 had gone out on theeight-o'clock patrol. The seventh man was taking his twenty-four hoursoff at his home on the shore. The keeper was working over his report inthe office. The other members of the crew were up-stairs asleep, and Abeand Samuel were bearing each other company in the mess-room. 

Abe lay asleep on the carpet-covered sofa which had been dragged out ofthe captain's room for him, so that the old man need not spend the nightin the cold sleeping-loft above. He was fully dressed except for hisboots; for he was determined to conform to the rules of the Service, andsleep with his clothes on ready for instant duty. 

"Talk erbout him a-dyin'!" growled Samuel to himself, lounging wearilyin a chair beside the stove. "He's jest startin' his life. He's areg'lar hoss. I didn't think he had it in him. "

Samuel's tone was resentful. He was a little jealous of the distinctionwhich had been made between him and Abe; and drawing closer to the fire, he shivered in growing distaste for the cot assigned to him with thecrew up-stairs, where the white frost lay on the window-latches. 

What uncomfortable chairs they had in this station! Samuel listened tothe mooing of the breakers, to the wind rattling at the casements, --andwondered if Blossy had missed him. About this time, she must be sittingin her chintz-covered rocker, combing out the ringlets of hergolden-white hair in the cheery firelight. 

Now, that would be a sight worth seeing! Abe opened his mouth and beganto snore. What disgusting, hideous creatures men were, reflected Samuel. Six months' living with an unusually high-bred woman had insensiblyraised his standards. 

Why should he spend a week of his ever-shortening life with suchinferior beings, just for Abraham's sake--for Abraham's sake, and tobear out a theory of his own, which he had already concluded a mistake?

Abe gave a snort, opened his eyes, and muttered sleepily: "This is whatI call a A No. 1 spree. Naow, ter-morrer--" But mumbling incoherently herelapsed into slumber, puffing his lips out into a whistling sound. 

Samuel reached for a newspaper on the table, folded it into a missile, and started to fling it into the innocent face of the sleeper. But, fortunately for Abraham, it was Captain Darby's custom to count tenwhenever seized by an exasperated impulse, and at the ninth number heregretfully dropped the paper. 

Then he began to count in another way. Using the forefinger of his righthand as a marker, he counted under his breath, "one" on his left thumb, then after a frowning interval, "two" on his left forefinger, "three" onthe middle digit, and so on, giving time for thought to each number, until he had exhausted the fingers of his left hand and was ready tostart on the right. 

Count, count, went Samuel, until thrice five was passed, and he began tobe confused. 

Once more Abe awoke, and inquired if the other were trying to reckon thenumber of new wigwags and signals which the Service had acquired sincethey had worked for the government; but on being sharply told to "Shetup!" went to sleep again. 

What the projector of the trip was really trying to recall was how manytimes that day he had regretted saving Abe from the devastating clutchesof the old ladies. 

"Him need hardenin'?" muttered Samuel blackly. "Why, he's harder now 'nnails an' hardtack!"

Again he ran over on his fingers the list of high crimes andmisdemeanors of which Abe had been guilty. 

First, --thumb, left hand, --Abe had insisted on extending their scootersail until he, Samuel, had felt his toes freezing in his boots. 

Second, --forefinger, left hand, --on being welcomed by the entire forceat Bleak Hill and asked how long they expected to stay, Abe had blurtedout, "A hull week, " explaining that Samuel's rule requiring at leastseven days of exile from his wife every six months barred them fromreturning in less time. 

The keeper was a widower, all the other men bachelors. How could theybe expected to understand? They burst into a guffaw of laughter, andAbe, not even conscious that he had betrayed a sacred confidence, sputtered and laughed with the rest. 

Samuel had half a mind to return to-morrow, "jest to spite 'em. " Let'ssee, how many days of this plagued week were left? Six. Six wholetwenty-four hours away from Blossy and his snug, warm, comfortable nest. 

She wasn't used to keepin' house by herself, neither. Would she rememberto wind the clock on Thursday, and feed the canary, and water theabutilon and begonias reg'lar?

Grimly Samuel took up offense No. 3. Abraham had further told the menthat he had been brought over here for a hardening process; but he waswilling to bet that if Samuel could keep up with him, he could keep upwith Samuel. 

Then followed offense on offense. Was Samuel to be outdone on his ownone-time field of action by an old ladies' darling? No!

When Abe sat for a half-hour in the lookout, up in the freezing, coldcupola, and did duty "jest to be smart, " Samuel sat there on top of hisown feet, too. 

When Abe helped drag out the apparatus-cart over the heavy sands for thedrill, Samuel helped, too. And how tugging at that rope brought back hislumbago!

When Abe rode in the breeches-buoy, Samuel insisted on playing the solesurvivor of a shipwreck, too, and went climbing stiffly and lumberinglyup the practice-mast. 

Abraham refused to take a nap after dinner; so did Samuel. Abe went downto the out-door carpenter-shop in the grove, and planed a board just forthe love of exertion. Samuel planed two boards and drove a nail. 

"We've got two schoolboys with us, " said the keeper and the crew. 

"Ef I'd a-knowed that yew had more lives 'n my Maltese cat, " Samuel wasmuttering over Abe by this time, "I'd--"

Count, count went Captain Darby's fingers. He heard the keeper rattlingpapers in the office just across the threshold, heard him say he wasabout to turn in, and guessed Samuel had better do likewise; but Samuelkept on counting. 

Count, count went the arraigning fingers. Gradually he grew drowsy, butstill he went over and over poor Abe's offenses, counting on until of asudden he realized that he was no longer numbering the sins of hiscompanion; he was measuring in minutes the time he must spend away fromBlossy and Twin Coves, and the begonias, and the canary, and the cat. 

What would Blossy say if she could feel the temperature of the room inwhich he was supposed to sleep? What would Blossy say if she knew howhis back ached? Whatever would Blossy do to Abe Rose if she couldsuspect how he had tuckered out her "old man?"

"He's a reg'lar hoss, " brooded Samuel. "Oh, my feet!" grabbing at hisright boot. "I'll bet yer all I got it's them air chilblains. That'swhat, " he added, unconsciously speaking aloud. 

Abe's lids slowly lifted. He rubbed his eyes and yawned. He turned hishead on his hard, blue gingham-covered pillow, and stared sleepily atthe other. 

"Yew been noddin', Sam'l? Ain't gittin' sleepy a'ready, are yer?" Heglanced at the clock. "Why, it's only half past nine. Say, what's thematter with me an' yew goin' west ter meet No. 5? Leetle breath o' freshair 'll make us sleep splendid. "

He started up from the couch, but dropped back, too heavy with wearinessto carry off his bravado. Samuel, however, not noticing the discrepancybetween speech and action, was already at the door leading up-stairs. 

"Yew don't drag me out o' this station ter-night, Abe Rose. Yew 're areg'lar hoss; that 's what yew be. A reg'lar hoss! A reg'lar--areg'lar--"

He flung open the door and went trudging as fast as his smarting feetcould carry him up the steep and narrow steps, wherein the passing ofother feet for many years had worn little hollows on either side. 

Abraham limped from the couch to the door himself, and called after him:

"Sam'l, don't yew want tew sleep by the fire? Yew seem a leetle softerthan I be. Let me come up-stairs. "

There was no answer beyond the vicious slamming of Samuel's boots uponthe floor above. 

Abe raised his voice again, and now came in answer a roar of wrath fromthe cot next to Samuel's. 

"Go to bed!" shouted No. 6, a burly, red-headed Irishman. "Go to bed, wid ye! Th' young folks do be nadin' a little schlape!"

XVI

"A REG'LAR HOSS"

Abe flung himself back on his hard couch, drew the thick, gray blanketover him, and straightway fell into a deep, childlike slumber from whichhe was aroused by the rough but hearty inquiry:

"Say, Cap, like to have some oyster-stew and a cup of coffee?"

Abe sat up, rubbing his eyes, wondering since when they had begun toserve oyster-stew for breakfast on the Beach; then he realized that hehad not overslept, and that it was not morning. 

The clock was striking twelve, the midnight patrol was just going out, and the returning "runners" were bidding him partake of the food theyhad just prepared to cheer them after their cold tramp along the surf. 

The old man whiffed the smell of the coffee, tempted, yet withheld bythe thought of Angy's horror, and the horror of the twenty-nine sisters. 

"Cap'n Abe"--Clarence Havens, No. 5, with a big iron spoon in his handand a blue gingham apron tied around his bronzed neck, put him on hismettle, however--"Cap'n Abe, I tell yew, we wouldn't have waked no otherfellow of your age out of a sound sleep. Cap'n Darby, he could snoozetill doomsday; but we knowed you wouldn't want to miss no fun a-going. "

"Cap'n Sam'l does show his years, " Abe admitted. "Much obliged fer yewa-wakin' me up, boys, " as he drew on his boots. "I was dreamin' I washungry. Law, I wish I had a dollar apiece fer all the eyester-stews I'veet on this here table 'twixt sunset an' sunrise. "

Under the stimulus of the unaccustomed repast, Abe expanded and began totell yarns of the old days on the Beach--the good old days. His cheeksgrew red, his eyes sparkled. He smoked and leaned back from the table, and ate and drank, smoked and ate again. 

"A week amongst yew boys, " he asserted gaily, "is a-goin' tew be themakin' of me. Haow Sam'l kin waste so much time in sleep, I can'tunderstand. "

"I don't think he is asleep, " said No. 3. "When I was up-stairs jestnow fer my slippers, I heard him kind o' sniffin' inter his piller. "

The laugh which followed brought the keeper out of the office in hiscarpet slippers, a patchwork quilt over his shoulders. His quick eyestook in the scene--the lamp sputtering above the table, the emptydishes, the two members of the crew sleepily jocular, with their blueflannel elbows spread over the board, the old man's rumpled bed, and hisbrilliant cheeks and bright eyes. 

"Boys, you shouldn't have woke up Cap'n Rose, " he said reprovingly. "I'mafraid, sir, " turning to Abraham, "that you find our manners prettyrough after your life among the old ladies. "

Abe dropped his eyes in confusion. Was he never to be rid of thoseapron-strings:

"Well, there's worse things than good women, " proceeded the captain. "Iwish we had a few over here. " He sighed with the quiet, dull manner ofthe men who have lived long on the Beach. "Since they made the rule thatthe men must eat and sleep in the station, it's been pretty lonely. That's why there's so many young fellows in the Service nowadays;married men with families won't take the job. "

"Them empty cottages out thar, " admitted Abe, pointing to the window, "does look kind o' lonesome a-goin' ter rack an' ruin. Why, the winter Iwas over here, every man had his wife an' young 'uns on the Beach, 'cept me an' Sam'l. "

Again the keeper sighed, and drew his coverlid closer. "Now, it's justmen, men, nothing but men. Not a petticoat in five miles; and I tellyou, sometimes we get mad looking at one another, don't we, boys?"

The two young men had sobered, and their faces also had taken on thatlook engendered by a life of dull routine among sand-hills at the edgeof a lonely sea, with seldom the sound of a woman's voice in their earsor the prattle of little children. 

"For two months last winter nobody came near us, " said Havens, "and wecouldn't get off ourselves, either, half the time. The bay broke up intoporridge-ice after that big storm around New Year's; yew dasn't risk ascooter on it or a cat-boat. Feels to me, " he added, as he rose to hisfeet, "as if it was blowin' up a genuwine old nor'-easter again. "

The other man helped him clear the table. "I'm goin' to get married inJune, " he said suddenly, "and give up this here blamed Service. "

"A wife, " pronounced Abe, carrying his own dishes into the kitchen, "isdretful handy, onct yew git used to her. "

The keeper went into the office with a somewhat hurried "Good-night, "and soon Abe found himself alone again, the light in the kitchen beyond, no sound in the room save that of the booming of the surf, the rattlingof the windows, and now and again the fall of a clinker in the stove. 

The old man was surprised to find that he could not fall back into thatblissful slumber again. Not sleeping, he had to think. He thought andthought, --sober night thoughts, --while the oysters "laid like a log inhis stummick" and the coffee seemed to stir his brain to greateractivity. 

"Suppose, " said the intoxicated brain, "another big storm should swoopdown upon you and the bay should break up, and you and Samuel should beimprisoned on the beach for two or three months with a handful ofmen-folks!"

"Moo! Moo!" roared the breakers on the shore. "Serve you right forfinding fault with the sisters!"

Come to think of it, if he had not been so ungracious of Miss Abigail'sconcern for him, he would now be in possession of a hop pillow to lullhim back to sleep. Well, he had made his bed, and he would have to lieon it, although it was a hard old carpet-covered lounge. Having no hoppillow, he would count sheep--

One sheep going over the fence, two sheep, three--How tired he was! Howhis bones ached! It's no use talking, you can't make an old dog do thetricks of his puppy days. What an idiot he had been to climb thatpractice-mast! If he had fallen and broken his leg?

Four sheep. Maybe he was too old for gallivanting, after all. Maybe hewas too old for anything except just to be "mollycoddled" by thoughtfulold ladies. Now, be honest with yourself, Abe. Did you enjoy yourselfto-day--no, yesterday? Did you? Well, yes and--no! Now, if Angy had beenalong!

Angy! That was why he could not go to sleep! He had forgotten to kissher good-by! Wonder if she had noticed it? Wonder if she had missed himmore on account of that neglect? Pshaw! What nonsense! Angy knew hewa'n't no hand at kissin', an' it was apt to give him rheumatism to benddown so far as her sweet old mouth. 

He turned to the wall at the side of the narrow lounge, to the emptinesswhere her pillow should be. "Good-night, Mother, " he muttered huskily. Mother did not answer for the first time in nights beyond the counting. Mother would not be there to answer for at least six nights to come. Aweek, thought this old man, as the other old man had reflected a fewhours before, is a long time when one has passed his threescore yearsand ten, and with each day sees the shadows growing longer. 

Abraham put out his hard time-shrunken hand and touched in thought hiswife's pillow, as if to persuade himself that she was really there inher place beside him. He remembered when first he had actually touchedher pillow to convince himself that she was really there, too awed andtoo happy to believe that his youth's dream had come true; and heremembered now how his gentle, strong hand had crept along the linenuntil it cupped itself around her cheek; and he had felt the cheek growhot with blushes in the darkness. She had not been "Mother" then; shehad been "Dearest!" Would she think that he was growing childish if heshould call her "Dearest" now?

Smiling to himself, he concluded that he would try the effect of thetender term when he reached home again. He drew his hand back, whispering once more, "Good-night, Mother. " Then he fancied he couldhear her say in her soft, reassuring tone, "Good-night, Father. " Fatherturned his back on the empty wall, praying with a sudden rush ofpassionate love that when the last call should come for him, it would beafter he had said "Good-night, Mother, " to Angy and after she had said"Good-night, Father, " to him, and that they might wake somewhere, somehow, together with God, saying, "Good-morning, Mother, ""Good-morning, Father!" And "Fair is the day!"

XVII

THE DESERTER

At dawn the Station was wide-awake and everybody out of bed. Samuelcrept down-stairs in his stocking-feet, his boots in his hand, his eyesheavy with sleeplessness, and his wig awry. He shivered as he drew closeto the fire, and asked in one breath for a prescription for chilblainsand where might Abe be. Abe's lounge was empty and his blankets neatlyfolded upon it. 

The sunrise patrol from the east, who had just returned, made replythat he had met Captain Abe walking along the surf to get up anappetite for his griddle-cakes and salt pork. Samuel sat down suddenlyon the lounge and opened his mouth. 

"Didn't he have enough exercise yist'day, for marcy's sake! Put' nighkilled me. I was that tired las' night I couldn't sleep a wink. Ideclar', ef 't wa'n't fer that fool newspaper a-comin' out ter-night, I'd go home ter-day. Yer a-gwine acrost, hain't yer, Havens?"

Havens laughed in response. Samuel glowered at him. 

"I want home comforts back, " he vowed sullenly. "The Beach hain't whatit used ter be. Goin' on a picnic with Abe Rose is like settin' yerteeth into a cast-iron stove lid covered with a thin layer o' puddin'. I'm a-goin' home. "

The keeper assured him that no one would attempt to detain him if hefound the Station uncomfortable, and that if he preferred to leaveAbraham behind, the whole force would take pleasure in entertaining themore active old man. 

"That old feller bates a phonograph, " affirmed the Irishman. "It's goodter hear that he'll be left anyhow for comp'ny with this storm a-comin'up. "

Samuel rushed to the window, for up-stairs the panes had been too frostyfor him to see out. A storm coming up? The beach did look gray anddesolate, dun-colored in the dull light of the early day, with thewinter-killed grass and the stunted green growth of cedar and holly andpine only making splotches of darkness under a gray sky which was filledwith scurrying clouds. The wind, too, had risen during the night, andthe increased roar of the surf was telling of foul weather at sea. 

A storm threatening! And the pleasant prospect of being shut in at thebeach with the cast-iron Abraham and these husky life-savers for theremainder of the winter! No doubt Abe would insist upon helping the menwith the double duties imposed by thick weather, and drag Samuel out onpatrol. 

"When dew yew start, Havens?" demanded Samuel in shaking tones. "Le' 'sget off afore Abe gits back an' tries ter hold me. He seems ter be soplagued stuck on the life over here, he'll think I must be tew. "

But, though Havens had to wait for the return of the man who had goneoff duty yesterday morning, still Abe had not put in an appearance whenSamuel and the life-saver trudged down the trail through the woods tothe bay. As he stepped into the scooter, Samuel's conscience at lastbegan to prick him. 

"Yew sure the men will look arter the old fellow well an' not let himover-dew?"

But the whizz of the flight had already begun and the scooter's nose wasset toward Twin Coves, her sail skimming swiftly with the ring of thesteel against the ice over the shining surface of the bay. 

"Law, yes, " Samuel eased his conscience; "of course they will. Theycouldn't hurt him, anyhow. I never seen nobody take so kindly terhardenin' as that air Abe. "

XVIII

SAMUEL'S WELCOME

The shore at Twin Coves was a somewhat lonely spot, owing to stretchesof marshland and a sweep of pine wood that reached almost to the edge ofthe water. 

Samuel, however, having indicated that he wished to be landed at thefoot of a path through the pines, found himself on the home shorescarcely ten minutes after he had left Bleak Hill--Havens alreadyspeeding toward his home some miles to the eastward, the bay seeminglydeserted except for his sail, a high wind blowing, and the snowbeginning to fall in scattered flakes. 

Samuel picked up his grip, trudged through the heavy sand of the narrowbeach, and entered the sweet-smelling pine wood. He was stiff with coldafter the rough, swift voyage; his feet alone were hot--burning hot withchilblains. Away down in his heart he was uneasy lest some harm shouldcome to Abe and the old man be caught in the approaching storm on theBeach. But, oh, wasn't he glad to be home!

His house was still half a mile away; but he was once more on good, solid, dry land. 

"I'll tell Blossy haow that air Abe Rose behaved, " he reassured himself, when he pictured his wife's astonished and perhaps reproachful greeting, "an' then she won't wonder that I had ter quit him an' come back. "

He recollected that Angy would be there, and hoped fervently that shemight not prove so strenuous a charge as Abraham. Moreover, he hopedthat she would not so absorb Blossy's attention as to preclude a wifelyministering to his aching feet and the application of "St. Jerushy Ile"to his lame and sore back. 

The torture of the feet and back made walking harder, too, than he hadbelieved possible with the prospect of relief so near. As he limpedalong he was forced to pause every now and again and set down thecarpet-bag, sometimes to rub his back, sometimes to seat himself on astump and nurse for a few moments one of those demon-possessed feet. Could he have made any progress at all if he had not known that athome, no matter if there was company, there would at least be no AbeRose to keep him going, to spur him on to unwelcome action, to force himto prove himself out of sheer self-respect the equal, if not thesuperior, in masculine strength?

Abe had led him that chase over at the Station, Samuel was convinced, "a-purpose" to punish him for having so soundly berated him when he laya-bed. That was all the thanks you ever got for doing things for "somefolks. "

Samuel hobbled onward, his brow knit with angry resentment. Did ever ahalf-mile seem so long, and had he actually been only twenty-three hoursfrom home and Blossy? Oh, oh! his back and his feet! Oh, the weight ofthat bag! How much he needed sleep! How good it would be to have Blossytuck him under the covers, and give him a hot lemonade with a stick ofginger in it!

If only he had hold of Abe Rose now to tell him his opinion of him!Well, he reflected, you have to summer and winter with a person beforeyou can know them. This one December day and night with Abe had beenequal to the revelations of a dozen seasons. The next time Samuel triedto do good to anybody more than sixty-five, he'd know it. The next timehe was persuaded into leaving his wife for over night, he'd know that, too. Various manuals for the young husband, which he had consulted, tothe contrary notwithstanding, the place for a married man was at home. 

Samuel sat down on a fallen tree which marked the half-way point betweenhis place and the bay. The last half of the journey would seem shorter, and, at the end, there would be Blossy smiling a welcome, for he neverdoubted but that Blossy would be glad to see him. She thought a gooddeal of him, nor had she been especially anxious for that week ofseparation. 

His face smoothed its troubled frowns into a look of shininganticipation--the look that Samuel's face had worn when first he usheredBlossy into his tidy, little home and murmured huskily:

"Mis' Darby, yew're master o' the vessel naow; I'm jest fo'castle hand. "

Forgetting all his aches, his pains, his resentments, Samuel took apeppermint-lozenge out of his pocket, rolled it under his tongue, andwalked on. Presently, as he saw the light of the clearing through thetrees, he broke into a run, --an old man's trot, --thus provingconclusively that his worry of lumbago and chilblains had been merely awrongly diagnosed case of homesickness. 

He grinned as he pictured Abe's dismay on returning to the Station tofind him gone. Still, he reflected, maybe Abe would have a better timealone with the young fellows; he had grown so plagued young himself allof a sudden. Samuel surely need not worry about him. 

More and more good-natured grew Samuel's face, until a sociable rabbit, peeping at him from behind a bush, decided to run a race with the oldgentleman, and hopped fearlessly out into the open. 

"Ah, yew young rascal!" cried Samuel. "Yew're the feller that eat up allmy winter cabbages. "

At this uncanny reading of his mind, Mr. Cottontail darted off into thewoods again to seek out his mate and inform her that their guilt hadbeen discovered. 

Finally, Samuel came to the break in the woodland, an open field of rye, green as springtime grass, and his own exquisitely neat abode beckoningacross the gray rail-fence to him. 

How pretty Blossy's geraniums looked in the sitting-room windows! Evenat this distance, too, he could see that she had not forgotten to waterhis pet abutilon and begonias. How welcome in the midst of this flurryof snow--how welcome to his eye was that smoke coming out of thechimneys! All the distress of his trip away from home seemed worth whilenow for the joy of coming back. 

Before he had taken down the fence-rail and turned into the path whichled to his back door, he was straining his ears for the sound ofBlossy's voice gossiping with Angy. Not hearing it, he hurried thefaster. 

The kitchen door was locked. The key was not under the mat; it was notin the safe on the porch, behind the stone pickle-pot. He tried the dooragain, and then peered in at the window. 

Not even the cat could be discerned. The kitchen was set in order, thebreakfast dishes put away, and there was no sign of any baking orpreparations for dinner. 

He knocked, knocked loudly. No answer. He went to a side door, to thefront entrance, and found the whole house locked, and no key to bediscovered. It was still early in the morning, earlier than Blossy wouldhave been likely to set out upon an errand or to spend the day; andthen, too, she was not one to risk her health in such chilly, dampweather, with every sign of a heavy storm. 

Samuel became alarmed. He called sharply, "Blossy!" No answer. "Mis'Rose!" No answer. "Ezra!" And still no sound in reply. 

His alarm increased. He went to the barn; that was locked and Ezranowhere in sight. By standing on tiptoe, however, and peeping through acrack in the boards, he found that his horse and the two-seated surreywere missing. 

"Waal, I never, " grumbled Samuel, conscious once more of all hisphysical discomforts. "The minute my back's turned, they goa-gallivantin'. I bet yer, " he added after a moment's thought, "I betyer it's that air Angy Rose. She's got ter git an' gad every second sameas Abe, an' my poor wife has been drug along with her. "

There was nothing left for him to do but seek refuge in his shop andawait their return. Like nearly every other bayman, he had a one-roomshanty, which he called the "shop, " and where he played at buildingboats, and weaving nets, and making oars and tongs. 

This structure stood to the north of the house, and fortunately had anold, discarded kitchen stove in it. There, if the wanderers had nottaken that key also, he could build a fire, and stretch out before it ona bundle of sail-cloth. 

He gave a start of surprise, however, as he approached the place; forsurely that was smoke coming out of the chimney!

Ezra must have gone out with the horse, and Blossy must be entertainingAngy in some outlandish way demanded by the idiosyncrasies of the Rosetemperament. 

Samuel flung open the door, and strode in; but only to pause on thethreshold, struck dumb. Blossy was not there, Angy was not there, norany one belonging to the household. But sitting on that very bundle ofcanvas, stretching his lean hands over the stove, with Samuel's cat onhis lap, was the "Old Hoss"--Abraham Rose!

XIX

EXCHANGING THE OLIVE-BRANCH

The cat jumped off Abe's lap, running to Samuel with a mew ofrecognition. Abe turned his head, and made a startled ejaculation. 

"Sam'l Darby, " he said stubbornly, "ef yew've come tew drag me back tothat air Beach, yew 're wastin' time. I won't go!"

Samuel closed the door and hung his damp coat and cap over a suit of oldoilskins. He came to the fire, taking off his mittens and blowing on hisfingers, the suspicious and condemnatory tail of his eye on Abraham. 

"Haow'd yew git here?" he burst forth. "What yew bin an' done with mywife, an' my horse, an' my man, an' my kerridge? Haow'd yew git here?What'd yew come fer? When'd yew git here?"

"What'd yew come fer?" retorted Abe with some spirit. "Haow'd yew githere?"

"None o' yer durn' business. "

A glimmer of the old twinkle came back into Abe's eye, and he began tochuckle. 

"I guess we might as waal tell the truth, Sam'l. We both tried to be soall-fired young yesterday that we got played out, an' concludedunanermous that the best place fer a A No. 1 spree was ter hum. "

Samuel gave a weak smile, and drawing up a stool took the cat upon hisknee. 

"Yes, " he confessed grudgingly, "I found out fer one that I hain't nospring lamb. "

"Ner me, nuther, " Abe's old lips trembled. "I had eyester-stew an' drunkcoffee in the middle o' the night; then the four-o'clock patrol wakes meup ag'in. 'Here, be a sport, ' they says, an' sticks a piece o' hotmince-pie under my nose. Then I was so oneasy I couldn't sleep. DaybreakI got up, an' went fer a walk ter limber up my belt, an' I sorterwandered over ter the bay side, an' not a mile out I see tew men withone o' them big fishin'-scooters a-haulin' in their net. An' I walked aways out on the ice, a-signalin' with my bandana han'kercher; an' artera time they seen me. 'T was Cap'n Ely from Injun Head an' his boy. Haowthem young 'uns dew grow! Las' time I see that kid, he wa' n't knee-hightew a grasshopper. 

"Waal, I says tew 'em, I says: 'Want ter drop a passenger at TwinCoves?' 'Yes, yes, ' they says. 'Jump in. ' An' so, Sam'I, I gradooatedfrom yer school o' hardenin' on top a ton o' squirmin' fish, more erless. I thought I'd come an' git Angy, " he ended with a sigh, "an' yerhired man 'd drive us back ter Shoreville; but thar wa' n't nobody humbut a mewin' cat, an' the only place I could git inter was this hereshop. Wonder whar the gals has gone?"

No mention of the alarm that he must by this time have caused at theStation. No consciousness of having committed any breach against thelaws of hospitality. But there was that in the old man's face, in hisworn and wistful look, which curbed Samuel's tongue and made himunderstand that as a little child misses his mother so Abe had missedAngy, and as a little homesick child comes running back to the place heknows best so Abe was hastening back to the shelter he had scorned. 

So, with an effort, Samuel held his peace, merely resolving that as soonas he could get to a telephone he would inform their late hosts of Abe'ssafety. 

There was no direct way of telephoning; but a message could be sent tothe Quogue Station, and from there forwarded to Bleak Hill. 

"I've had my lesson, " said Abe. "The place fer old folks is with oldfolks. "

"But"--Samuel recovered his authoritative manner--"the place fer an oldman ain't with old hens. Naow, Abe, ef yew think yew kin behave yerselfan' not climb the flagpole or jump over the roof, I want yer to stayright here, yew an' Angy both, an' spend yer week out. Yes, yes, " as Abewould have thanked him. "I take it, " plunging his hand into his pocket, "yew ain't stowed away nothin' since that mince-pie; but I can't offeryer nothin' to eat till Blossy gits back an' opens up the house, 'ceptthese here pepp'mints. They're fine; try 'em. "

With one of those freakish turns of the weather that takes the conceitout of all weather-prophets, the snow had now ceased to fall, the sunwas struggling out of the clouds, and the wind was swinging around tothe west. 

Neither of the old men could longer fret about their wives being caughtin a heavy snow; but, nevertheless, their anxiety concerning thewhereabouts of the women did not cease, and the homesickness which Abefelt for Angy, and Samuel for Blossy, rather increased than diminishedas one sat on the roll of canvas and the other crouched on his stool, and both hugged the fire, and both felt very old, and very lame, andvery tired and sore. 

Toward noontime they heard the welcome sound of wheels, and on rushingto the door saw Ezra driving alone to the barn. He did not note theirappearance in the doorway of the shop; but they could see from the lookon his face that nothing had gone amiss. 

Samuel heard the shutting of the kitchen door, and knew that Blossy wasat home, and a strange shyness submerged of a sudden his eagerness tosee her. 

What would she say to this unexpected return? Would she laugh at him, orbe disappointed?

"Yew go fust, " he urged Abe, "an' tell my wife that I've got thechilblains an' lumbago so bad I can't hardly git tew the house, an' Ihad ter come hum fer my 'St. Jerushy Ile' an' her receipt fer frostedfeet. "

XX

THE FATTED CALF

Abe had no such qualms as Samuel. He wanted to see Angy that minute, andhe did not care if she did know why he had returned. 

He fairly ran to the back door under the grape arbor, so that Samuel, observing his gait, was seized with a fear that he might be that youngAbe of the Beach, during his visit, after all. 

Abraham rushed into the kitchen without stopping to knock. "I'm back, Mother, " he cried, as if that were all the joyful explanation needed. 

She was struggling with the strings of her bonnet before thelooking-glass which adorned Blossy's parlor-kitchen. She turned to himwith a little cry, and he saw that her face had changedmarvelously--grown young, grown glad, grown soft and fresh with a newexcited spirit of jubilant thanksgiving. 

"Oh, Father! Weren't yew s'prised tew git the telephone? I knowed yew'dcome a-flyin' back. "

Blossy appeared from the room beyond, and slipped past them, knowingintuitively where she would find her lord and master; but neither ofthem observed her entrance or her exit. 

Angy clung to Abe, and Abe held her close. What had happened to her, theundemonstrative old wife? What made her so happy, and yet tremble so?Why did she cry, wetting his cheek with her tears, when she was sopalpably glad? Why had she telephoned for him, unless she, too, hadmissed him as he had missed her?

Recalling his memories of last night, the memories of that long-agohoneymoon-time, he murmured into his gray beard, "Dearest!"

She did not seem to think he was growing childish. She was not evensurprised. At last she said, half between sobbing and laughing:

"Oh, Abe, ain't God been good to us? Ain't it jist bewtiful to be rich?Rich!" she cried. "Rich!"

Abe sat down suddenly, and covered his face with his hands. In a flashhe understood, and he could not let even Angy see him in the light ofthe revelation. 

"The minin' stock!" he muttered; and then low to himself, in an awedwhisper: "Tenafly Gold! The minin' stock!"

After a while he recovered himself sufficiently to explain that he hadnot received the telephone message, and therefore knew nothing. 

"Did I git a offer, Mother?"

"A offer of fifteen dollars a share. The letter come last night fer yew, an' I--"

"Fifteen dollars a share!" He was astounded. "An' we've got fivethousand shares! Fifteen dollars, an' I paid ninety cents! Angy, ef everI ketch yew fishin' yer winter bunnit out of a charity barrel ag'in, I'll--Fifteen dollars!"

"But that ain't the best of it, " interrupted Angy. "I couldn't sleep awink, an' Blossy says not ter send word tew yew, 'cuz mebbe 't was ajoke, an' to wait till mornin' an' go see Sam'l's lawyer down ter InjunHead. That's whar we've jest come from, an' we telephoned ter QuogueStation from thar. An' the lawyer at fust he didn't 'pear tew think verymuch of it; but Blossy, she got him ter call up some broker feller in'York, an' 'Gee whizz!' he says, turnin' 'round all excited from the'phone. 'Tenafly Gold is sellin' fer twenty dollars on the Curb rightthis minute!' An' he says, says he: 'Yew git yer husband, an' bring thatair stock over this arternoon; an', ' says he, 'I'll realize on it feryer ter-morrer mornin'. '"

Abe stared at his wife, at her shining silk dress with its darns andcareful patches, at her rough, worn hands, and at the much mended laceover her slender wrists. 

"That mine was closed down eighteen years ago; they must 'a' opened itup ag'in"; he spoke dully, as one stunned. Then with a sudden burst ofenergy, his eyes still on his wife's figure: "Mother, that dress o'yourn is a disgrace fer the wife of a financierer. Yew better git a newsilk fer yerself an' Miss Abigail, tew, fust thing. Her Sunday onehain't nothin' extry. "

"But yer old beaver, Abe!" Angy protested. "It looks as ef it come outo'the Ark!"

"Last Sunday yew said it looked splendid"; his tone was absent-mindedagain. He seemed almost to ramble in his speech. "We must see thatIshmael gits fixed up comfortable in the Old Men's Home; yew rememberhaow he offered us all his pennies that day we broke up housekeepin'. An' we must do somethin' handsome fer the Darbys, tew. Ef it hadn't beenfer Sam'l, I might be dead naow, an' never know nothin' erbout this herestreak o' luck. Tenafly Gold, " he continued to mutter. "They must 'a'struck a new lead. An' folks said I was a fool tew invest. "

His face lightened. The weight of the shock passed. He threw off the aweof the glad news. He smiled the smile of a happy child. 

"Naow, Mother, we kin buy back our old chair, the rocker with the redroses onto it. Seems ter me them roses must 'a' knowed all the timethat this was a-goin' ter happen. They was jest as pert an' sassy thatlast day--"

Angy laughed. She laughed softly and with unutterable pride in herhusband. 

"Why, Father, don't yer see yew kin buy back the old chair, an' the oldplace, too, an' then have plenty ter spare?"

"So we kin, Mother, so we kin"; he nodded his head, surprised. Heplunged his hands into his pockets, as if expecting to find them filledwith gold. "Wonder ef Sam'l wouldn't lend me a dollar or so in smallchange. Ef I only had somethin' ter jingle, mebbe I could git closer tothis fac'. " He drew her to him, and gave her waist a jovial squeeze. "Hy-guy, Mother, we're rich! Hain't it splendid?"

Their laughter rang out together--trembling, near-to-tears laughter. The old place, the old chair, the old way, and--plenty! Plenty to mendthe shingles. Aye, plenty to rebuild the house, if they chose. Plentywith which to win back the smiles of Angy's garden. The dreadful dreamof need, and lack, and want, of feeding at the hand of charity, was goneby. 

Plenty! Ah, the goodness and greatness of God! Plenty! Abe wanted to cryit out from the housetops. He wanted all the world to hear. He wishedthat he might gather his wealth together and drop it piece by pieceamong the multitude. To give where he had been given, to blossom withabundance where he had withered with penury!

The little wife read his thoughts. "We'll save jest enough fer ourselvester keep us in comfort the rest of our lives an' bury us decent. "

They were quiet a long while, both sitting with bowed heads as if inprayer; but presently Angy raised her face with an exclamation ofdismay:

"Don't it beat all, that it happened jest tew late ter git in thisweek's 'Shoreville Herald'!"

"Tew late?" exclaimed the new-fledged capitalist. "Thar hain't nothin'tew late fer a man with money. We'll hire the editor tew git out anotherpaper, fust thing ter-morrer!"

XXI

"OUR BELOVED BROTHER"

The services of the "Shoreville Herald, " however, were not required tospread the news. The happiest and proudest couple on Long Island sawtheir names with the story of their sudden accession to wealth in agreat New York daily the very next morning. 

A tall, old gentleman with a real "barber's hair-cut, " a shining, newhigh hat, a suit of "store clothes" which fitted as if they had beenmade for him, a pair of fur gloves, and brand-new ten-dollar boots; anda remarkably pretty, old lady in a violet bonnet, a long black velvetcape, with new shoes as well as new kid gloves, and a big silver-foxmuff--this was the couple that found the paper spread out on the halltable at the Old Ladies' Home, with the sisters gathered around it, peering at it, weeping over it, laughing, both sorrowing and rejoicing. 

"This'll be good-by ter Brother Abe, " Aunt Nancy had sniffed when thenews came over the telephone the day before; and though Miss Abigail hadassured her that she knew Abe would come to see them real often, thematriarch still failed to be consoled. 

"Hain't you noticed, gals, " she persisted, "that thar hain't been adeath in the house sence we took him in? An' I missed my reg'lar spello' bronchitis last winter an' this one tew--so fur, " she added dismally, and began to cough and lay her hands against her chest. "That was allusthe way when I was a young 'un, " she continued after a while; "I neverhad a pet dog or cat or even a tame chicken that it didn't up an' runerway sooner or later. This here loss, gals, 'll be the death o' me!Naow, mark my words!"

Then followed a consultation among the younger sisters, the result ofwhich was that they met Abe in the morning with a unanimous petition. They could neither ask nor expect him to remain; that was impossible, but--

"Hip, hooray! Hip, hip, hooray!" cried Abe, waving an imaginary flag ashe entered. "Sam'l dropped us at the gate. Him an' Blossy went on tersee Holmes tew dicker erbout buyin' back the old place. Takes Blossy an'Sam'l tew dew business. They picked out my clothes between them yist'dayarternoon deown ter Injun village, in the Emporium. Haow yew like 'em?Splendid, eh? See my yaller silk handkerchief, tew? We jest dropped inter git our things. We thought mebbe yew'd want ter slick up the rooman' git ready fer the new--"

He was allowed to say no more. The sisters, who had been kissing andhugging Angy one by one, now swooped upon him. He was hugged, too, withwarm, generous congratulation, his hands were both shaken until theyached, and his clothes and Angy's silently admired. But no one said aword, for not one of the sisters was able to speak. Angy, thinking thatshe divined a touch of jealousy, hastened to throw off her wrap anddisplay the familiar old worn silk gown beneath. 

"I told Abe I jest wouldn't git a new silk until you each had one madetew. Blossy sent for the samples. Blossy--"

"All I need's a shroud, " interrupted Aunt Nancy grimly. 

Angy and Abe both stared at her. She did look gray this morning. She didseem feeble and her cough did sound hollow. The other sisters glancedalso at Aunt Nancy, and Sarah Jane took her hand, while she nudged Mrs. Homan with her free elbow and Mrs. Homan nudged Ruby Lee and Ruby Leeglanced at Lazy Daisy and Lazy Daisy drawled out meaningly:

"Miss Abigail!"

Then Miss Abigail, twisting the edge of her apron nervously, spoke:

"Much obliged to you I be in behalf o' all the sisters, Brother Abe an'ter Angy tew. We know yew'll treat us right. We know that yew, " restingher eyes on Abe's face, "will prove ter be the 'angel unawares' that webeen entertainin', but we don't want yew ter waste yer money on acart-load o' silk dresses. All we ask o' yew is jest ernough tew allowus ter advertise fer another brother member ter take yer place. "

Who could describe the expression that flashed across Abe's face?--hurtastonishment, wounded pride, jealous incomprehension. 

"Ter take my place!" he glanced about the hall defiantly. Who dared toenter there and take his place?--_his place_!

"This is a old ladies' home, " he protested. "What right you got a-takin'in a good-fer-nuthin' old man? Mebbe he'd rob yew er kill yew! When mengit ter rampagin', yew can't tell what they might dew. "

Sarah Jane nodded her head knowingly, as if to exclaim:

"I told yer so!"

But Miss Abigail hurriedly explained that it was a man and wife thatthey wanted. She blushed as she added that of course they would nottake a man without his wife. 

"No, indeed! That'd be highly improper, " smirked Ruby Lee. 

Then Abe went stamping to the stairway, saying sullenly:

"All right. I'll give yew all the money yew want fer advertisin', an'yew kin say he'll be clothed an' dressed proper, tew, an' supplied withterbaccer an' readin'-matter besides; but jest wait till the directorsread that advertisement! They had me here sorter pertendin' ter beunbeknownst. Come on, Angy. Let 's go up-stairs an' git our things. Let's--"

Aunt Nancy half arose from her chair, resting her two shaking hands onthe arms of it. 

"Brother Abe, " she called quaveringly after the couple, "I guess yewkin afford ter fix up any objections o' the directors. "

Angy pressed her husband's arm as she joined him in the upper hall. 

"Don't yer see, Abe. They don't realize that that poor old gentleman, whoever he may be, won't be yew. They jest know that _yew_ was _yew_;an' they want ter git another jest as near like yew as they kin. "

Abe grunted, yet nevertheless went half-way down-stairs again to callmore graciously to the sisters that he would give them a reference anytime for knowing how to treat a man just right. 

"That feller'll be lucky, gals, " he added in tremulous tones. "I hopehe'll appreciate yew as I allers done. "

Then Abe went to join Angy in the room which the sisters had given tohim that bitter day when the cry of his heart had been very like unto:

"_Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani_!"

After all, what was there of his and Angy's here? Their garments theydid not need now. They would leave them behind for the other old couplethat was to come. There was nothing else but some simple gifts. He tookup a pair of red wristlets that Mrs. Homan had knit, and tucked them inhis new overcoat pocket. He also took Abigail's bottle of "Jockey Club"which he had despised so a few days ago, and tucked that in hiswatch-pocket. When he bought himself a watch, he would buy a new clockfor the dining-room down-stairs, too, --a clock with no such asthmaticstrike as the present one possessed. All his personal belongings--everyone of them gifts--he found room for in his pockets. Angy had even lessthan he. Yet they had come practically with nothing--and compared withthat nothing, what they carried now seemed much. Angy hesitated over thepillow-shams. Did they belong to them or to the new couple to come? Abegazed at the shams too. They had been given to him and Angy lastChristmas by all the sisters. They were white muslin with white cambricfrills, and in their centers was embroidered in turkey-red cotton, "Mother, " on one pillow, "Father, " on the other. Every sister in theHome had taken at least one stitch in the names. 

Father and Mother--not Angy and Abe! Why Father and Mother? A year agono one could have foreseen the fortune, nor have prophesied thepossession of the room by another elderly couple. 

Angy drew near to Abe, and Abe to Angy. They locked arms and stoodlooking at the pillows. He saw, and she saw, the going back to the oldbedroom in the old home across the woods and over the field--the goingback. And in sharp contrast they each recalled the first time that theyhad stepped beneath that roof nearly half a century ago, --the firsthome-coming, --when her mother-heart and his father-heart had been filledwith the hope of children--children to bless their marriage, children tocomplete their home, children to love, children to feed them with lovein return. 

"Let's adopt some leetle folks, " said Angy, half in a whisper. "I'mafeard the old place'll seem lonesome without--"

"Might better adopt the sisters"; he spoke almost gruffly. "I allers didthink young 'uns would be the most comfort tew yew after they growedup. "

"A baby is dretful cunnin', " Angy persisted. "But, " she added sadly, "Idon't suppose a teethin' mite would find much in common with us. "

"Anyway, " vowed Abe, suddenly beginning to unfasten the pillow-shams, "these belong ter us, an' I'm a-goin' ter take 'em. "

They went down-stairs silently, the shams wrapped in a newspapercarried under his arm. 

"Waal, naow, "--he tried to speak cheerfully as they rejoined the others, and he pushed his way toward the dining-room, --"I'll go an' git my cupan' sasser. "

But Miss Abigail blocked the door, again blushing, again confused. 

"That 'Tew-our-Beloved-Brother' cup, " she said gently, her eyes notmeeting the wound in his, "we 'bout concluded yew'd better leave herefer the one what answers the ad. Yew got so much naow, an' him--"

She did not finish. She could not. She felt rather than saw the blazingof Abe's old eyes. Then the fire beneath his brows died out and a mistobscured his sight. 

"Gals, " he asked humbly, "would yew ruther have a new 'belovedbrother'?"

For a space there was no answer. Aunt Nancy's head was bowed in herhands. Lazy Daisy was openly sobbing. Miss Ellie was twisting herfingers nervously in and out--she unwound them to clutch at Angy's armas if to hold her. At last Miss Abigail spoke with so unaccustomed asharpness that her voice seemed not her own:

"Sech a foolish question as that nobody in their sound senses wouldask. "

Abe sat down in his old place at the fireside and smiled a thousandsmiles in one. He smiled and rubbed his hands before the blaze. Theblaze itself seemed scarcely more bright and warm than the light fromwithin which transfigured his aged face. 

"Gals, " he chuckled in his old familiar way, "I dunno how Sam'l Darby'lltake it; but if Mother's willin', I guess I won't buy back no more ofthe old place, 'cept'n' jest my rockin'-chair with the red roses ontoit; an' all the rest o' this here plagued money I'll hand over ter thedirectors, an' stay right here an' take my comfort. "

Angy bent down and whispered in his ear: "I'd ruther dew it, tew, Father. Anythin' else would seem like goin' a-visitin'. But yew don'twant ter go an' blame me, " she added anxiously, "ef yew git all riled upan' sick abed ag'in. "

"Pshaw, Mother, " he protested; "yew fergit I was _adopted_ then; naow Ibe _adoptin_'. Thar's a big difference. "

She lifted her face, relieved, and smiled into the relieved and radiantfaces of Abe's "children, " and her own.