CHAPTER XIII
A BENEFICENT BEE
If to be busy is a synonym for "bee" this one was well named. As theblacksmith further explained, while Dorothy hastened to fetch a chairfor Mrs. Calvert, who stood beside him, merrily smiling:
"It's a way country folks have of giving a neighbor a lift. We get up'bees' to raise a barn, help in somebody's belated haying or harvesting,and we've arranged one now to get Skyrie into a little better shape. Toomuch of a job for one man to undertake alone, and with your permission,we'll begin. Each man knows his part and your near neighbor, John Smith,is boss of the whole. His farm is next to this, he knows most aboutSkyrie. 'One year's seeding makes seven years' weeding,' you know, andpoor Skyrie has been running to weed-seeds far too long. _May_ webegin?"
Mother Martha could not speak, and Dorothy seemed all eyes and mouth,so widely they stared and gaped in her surprise; but father John foundvoice to falter:
"We are almost overcome. I shall never be able to return this kindness,and I don't, I can't quite understand----"
"No need you should, and as for returning kindnesses, all can find someway to do that if they watch out. I take it you are willing we should goahead. Therefore, John Smith! do your duty! and let every man hustle ashe never did before. By sunset and milking-time Skyrie must be thebest-ordered farm on the mountain! Hip, hip, hooray!"
What a cheer went up! With what honest pride did John Smith, the bestfarmer of them all, step to the fore and assign to each man his place!and with what scant loss of time did the fun begin!
Fun they made of it, in truth, though long untilled fields were stubbornin their yielding to plow or harrow, and unmown meadows were such atangle as tried the mettle of mowing machine and scythe.
Into the garden rushed a half-dozen workers, with plow, spade, rake, andseed bags, coolly forcing the staring Pa Babcock aside, at the risk ofbeing trampled in his own asparagus ditch. Also he, with equal coolness,resigned himself to having his task taken out of hand and repaired tothe side of his employers to rest. Was he not, also, one of the family?
Such a "bee" as that was had never before buzzed on that mountain, eventhough this was by no means the first one known there. It was of greaterproportions and more full of energy than could possibly have beenbrought to the mere raising of a barn or the gathering of a single crop.Dorothy's romantic history, added to the ex-postman's own pitiful story,would have been sufficient to win those warm-hearted country folk to therescue, even without the example of Seth Winters to rouse themeverywhere.
"My Cousin Seth calls himself a blacksmith, but he seems to be acarpenter as well. See? He is actually climbing the roof, to make sureevery old, worn-out shingle is replaced by a new one. Trust me, if Sethundertakes anything it will be well done. Your roof will never leakagain, as Dorothy said it did that stormy night," said Mrs. Cecil toMartha, while that astonished matron sat now beside her guest, watchingand wondering, unable to talk; till at last a sudden fear arose in herhousewifely breast, and she answered by asking:
"What shall I do with them? How feed them all? I can just remember sucha time when my grandfather had a lot of people come to help, and all thewomen in the house had to cook for days beforehand, it seems to me, forthe one dinner."
"O mother! We can't! Why, there aren't potatoes enough in the pantry forour own dinner, let alone so many people!" cried Dorothy, regretfullyregarding her small fingers, roughened now by that cutting of "seed.""Even if we'd saved all you got of Mrs. Smith they wouldn't have begunto go around. I might--do you suppose I could make biscuit enough, likeyou taught me for father's supper--if there was flour--and maybe butter,and there was time!"
Mrs. Cecil laughed and drew the girl close to her for a moment; then,rising, said:
"Don't worry, Mrs. Chester, nor Dolly dear. These folks haven't come tomake trouble but to save it. I see that the women are gathering in thatfar field that has already been mowed and raked. Herbert Montaigne isthere, with his horse-rake, and I'm curious to see if he can managesomething useful as easily as he does his own fast horse. Besides,country women are a bit shy, sometimes, and I want you to go among themwith me and get acquainted. Get your--Mrs. Chester a hat, my darling,and your own if you need it, Dorothy."
She spoke with a tone of authority, habitual enough, but she hadhesitated for an instant over the word "mother," and Martha's tender,jealous heart was quick to notice it and to assure herself that "she hastaken a notion to my girl and wants to adopt her from me. I know it. I'mas sure as if she'd said so outright. But she shan't. She shall not.Dorothy is not the kind of child to be handed from pillar to post, thatfashion. She's mine. She was sent to me and I shall keep her, even ifJohn did once say that a richer woman could do more for her than we can.I--I begin almost to--to hate Mrs. Cecil! And I'm glad I didn't borrowmoney of her instead of that nice old Friend."
By which reflections it seemed that poor, jealous mother Martha likenedherself to a "pillar" and the mistress of Deerhurst to a "post." It wasin that mood she followed the old lady down to that far field in whichthe group of women, aided by a few lads, seemed so strangely busy.
Busy, indeed! In a community accustomed to "picnics" conveniences forsuch were a matter of course; so in some of the wagons had been broughtwooden tressels, and the long boards that were laid upon these made thenecessary tables for the great feast to come.
In one corner of this field, fragrant now with the freshly cut grasswhich Herbert had raked into windrows, was a cluster of trees, giving acomfortable shade; and beneath these the helpful lads detailed for thetask set up the tressels and placed the boards in readiness; thenbrought from the wagons in the road outside such big baskets and somany, all so heavily laden with the best their owners could provide,that Dorothy could only clasp her hands and cry out in amazement:
"Why, this is far and away beyond anything we ever had at home! Even theSunday-school excursions down the Bay didn't have so many baskets! Iwish--how I wish that father was here!"
"Here he shall be!" cried Herbert, jumping from his seat upon the rakeand hurrying toward her. "I've gathered up all that's in this lot andI'll go fetch him. Goodness! If there isn't the little mother herself!Come to see if her precious son has overheated himself by doingsomething useful! Wait, Dorothy! Here's a lark! My mother wouldn't mixwith 'common folks'--I mean she wouldn't be let by Helena--but now sheshall. She has let her curiosity and her anxiety over her son andheir"--here the lad swept Dolly a profound bow which she as merrilyreturned by as profound a courtesy, each laughing as if no disagreementhad marked their last interview--"she has come to the 'Bee' and sheshall taste of its honey!"
Away he sped, scattering jests and laughter as he went, the farm-wiveswhom his friendliness had already propitiated looking after him withready approval, while more than one remarked on the absence of that"insolence" which had been attributed to him.
"The father and daughter may be terrible top-lofty, but there ain't nononsense in the boy, and the mother looks as if she'd like to beneighborly, if she dared to," said Mrs. Smith, advancing to meet Mrs.Calvert and Martha. "How-do, Mis' Cecil? It's the crownin' top-notch ofthe whole business, havin' you come, too. But I knowed you would. I saidto John, says I, 'Mis' Calvert's sure to be on hand if she can shake aleg, she ain't one to miss no doin's, she ain't,' I says, and I'mtickled to death to see you can, ma'am."
With this conclusion Mrs. Smith turned a triumphant eye upon herneighbors as if to show them how exceedingly familiar and intimate shewas with the greatest lady "up-mounting." Besides, as wife of thecommander of this expedition, she realized her own important position:and set to work at once to introduce everybody to Mrs. Chester, for Mrs.Calvert was already known to most and waited no introduction to thoseshe did not know.
"Now, boys, get them benches sot up right to once! wouldn't keepvisitin' ladies standing, would you?" ordered this mistress ofceremonies, herself setting the example by placing a bench under thevery shadiest tree and beside the head table. "Now, Mis' Calvert, Mis'Chester, Dolly, and yo
u, old Mis' Turnbull, step right up and se' down.Comfortable, be ye? All right, then, we'll have dinner ready in the jerkof a lamb's tail! Mis' Spencer, you set that cherry pie o' yourn on thisparticular spot an' figure of this table-cloth! I want Mis' Calvert totaste it, an' when she does she'll say she never knew before what cherrypie could be! Fact. Oh! you needn't wriggle an' try to make believe youdon't know it yourself, Sarah Spencer, so bein's you've took first prizefor pies at the county fair, three-four years hand-runnin'. Fit to setoff this very best table-cloth in the bunch--My! but it's fine! yet thelucky woman 'at owns it didn't think the best none too good for thishere joyful occasion. I tell you, isn't it a good thing the Lord sentus such a splendid day? Hot? Well, maybe, but need hot weather to makethe corn grow an' hay cure right. Now, if that don't beat the Dutch!here comes the boss himself! Bore right along like a king on his throne!Hurray!"
By the "boss," of course, it was Mr. Chester she meant: smiling as eventhat sunny-tempered gentleman had rarely smiled, and carried in a stoutchair upon the shoulders of two strong men, while waving them to thetune of his merry whistle, followed Herbert with the crutches.
"Coffee? Smell it! Fried chicken? Well, that's a smart trick. Wait tillI copy that over at the camp!" cried the lad, always a hungry chap butnever quite so hungry as now; and watching with admiration how deftlytwo women were deep-frying in a kettle, suspended by three crotchedsticks above a fire on the ground, the already prepared fowls which hadonce been the choicest of their flocks.
Plenty of other things there were, roasts and broils and brews, but Mrs.Smith's mandate had long before gone forth that: "Our men must havesomething hot with their dinner, and not all 'cold victuals.' John hecan get more work out of a hired man 'an anybody else I ever saw, an' hedoes it by feedin' 'em. He says, says he, in hayin' time when he wantsfolks to swing their scythes lively: 'Buttermilk an' whey, Draggin' allthe day; Ham an' eggs--Look out for your legs!' So I'm bound to havethat tried to Mr. Chester's 'Bee.'"
So not only figuratively but practically it was a case of "ham andeggs," and brimful of his enjoyment, master Herbert now deposited thecrutches within easy reach of their owner and hurried to the road, wherehis mother and sister sat amusedly watching in their phaeton. He madeone attempt to vault over the intervening wall, but it was so wide hefailed and struck the top in an ignominous heap, which set all the otherlads in the field into uproarious laughter--himself joining in it withperfect good humor. Even his mother, whose idol he was, looked at him insurprise, anticipating scowls instead of smiles; but the love andsympathy which had emanated from Seth Winters's big heart had touched,that day, the more selfish heart of many another--even the "spoiled"lad, Herbert's. Ah! the bliss of bestowing kindness! how it returns inan overflow of happiness!
"O son! Are you hurt?" cried Mrs. Montaigne, in alarm. How could anybodyfall upon stones in that way and not be injured? But "son" had reboundedfrom the impact like a rubber ball, or the best trained gymnast of hisschool, as he was.
Another leap brought him to the side of the carriage and to insistingthat his women should return with him to what he called "the festalboard," adding "it's literally such, though don't they look dainty?those rough planks covered with white linen? Oh! but they've got the'fixings' to make your mouth water. Please get out, mother, Helena, andcome. I'll help you over the wall. It's easy. Come!"
But Helena drew up with haughtiness, demanding:
"What can you be thinking of, Herbert Montaigne? The idea of mother or Imixing in such a crowd. If it suits you to play the fool----"
"No foolishness about what I did, I tell you! Why, child alive, I rakedthe hay together on three whole six-acre fields! I! yourgood-for-something brother! Think of that, then put it in your pipe andsmoke it!"
With that he began strutting up and down beside the phaeton with such acomical resemblance to a pouter pigeon that coachman James had to turnhis face aside, lest he should disgrace himself by a smile, while Mrs.Montaigne laughed aloud.
"Herbert, you dreadful boy! You use more shocking language every day.There's no need for you to suffer any further contamination by minglingwith such persons as are yonder. Don't go back. Ride home with us, andlet's go into Newburgh and pay visits upon somebody worth while," coaxedHelena, whose mission in life seemed to be the reconstruction of allwith whom she came in contact.
"Not much I go! I hate visits, and if you think you're going to drag meaway from Skyrie just the minute the real fun begins, you're mistaken,that's all. Besides, what would my friend Mrs. Calvert think if Ideserted her in this base fashion? Why, we've settled it that I'm to beher attendant at this famous dinner--I tell you it's going to makehistory, this busy bumble 'Bee'! It will be told of and held up as anexample of what can be done and should be done, sometimes. No, indeed, Ishan't miss it, and you won't unless you're a bigger--I mean more unwisethan I think you. Mother's coming anyway, to sit next to Mrs. Calvertand that pretty Dorothy. Huh! Talk about girls! She's a daisy, she is!Good deal more of one than that little-boy-calf of hers she's so fondof. That's right, mother! Have a will of your own or a will of mine,once in a lifetime!" commended this persuasive son.
Mrs. Montaigne loved both her children, said that she did so equally,and they both ruled her; Helena by fear, Herbert by love. Under all hisrollicking nonsense the deepest feeling of the lad's heart was love forthe timid little woman who was so ready to sacrifice herself to themall, and who he believed was also the superior of all. Once in a longwhile she acted with decision. She did so now. Whether the name ofCalvert had been one to conjure with, or because she was really anxiousto see what sort of people these were who had so evidently "bewitched"her son, she descended from the phaeton, laughingly demanding ifHerbert thought she "possibly could get over that dreadful wall, orshould they go further and through the gate?"
"Over it? Easy as breathing!"
She was a tiny woman and he a very strong lad: and before she knew whathe was about he had caught her over his back, sack-fashion, and leapedto the top of the wide wall. A couple of steps, and he had swung herdown upon the grass within the field, where she stood too amazed tospeak: though Mrs. Smith, observant from a distance, dramaticallyexclaimed:
"My soul and body! You could knock me down with a feather!"