Running to Waste: The Story of a Tomboy

  CHAPTER XI.

  BECKY BEARDS THE LION IN HIS DEN.

  With the burning of the mill, Becky’s march towards independence wasstayed for a while by the failure of supplies. There was a dispositionon the part of Cleverly folks to lionize the young girl for the bravedeed she had accomplished. Much to her surprise, people who had beforeshunned her took particular pains to call and thank her for the heroismshe had displayed. Deacon Procter’s wife--a woman who, in the tomboydays, had caught her among the melons, who had told her she was on thebroad road to destruction--smiled upon her kindly, patted her cheek,and called her a brave, good girl, and the pride of the town. ParsonArnold, who before had pulled his hat over his eyes, and stepped oneside, when he met her, now benevolently laid his hand upon her head,with a blessing. Even the boys--Teddy’s cronies--gathered about thehouse, and, on her appearance at the door or the window, testifiedtheir approbation of her conduct by loud and prolonged cheering; whilebuxom Mrs. York visited the house regularly every day for a week, toclasp Becky in her arms with such a strength of gratitude that the girlreally feared the breath would be driven from her body.

  All this was a source of wonder to her. She had felt a glow of pleasurewhen she saw the flush on her mother’s cheek, the tears standing in hereyes, and a faint smile upon her lips. There was something very warmingto her heart, when Aunt Hulda said, with a shake of the head,--

  “What did I tell you? She’s a brave, good girl; and I knew she’d comeout strong when she did come;” with a defiant glance at an invisiblesomebody, who might be inclined to doubt her.

  Mrs. Thompson’s warm kiss of approval; Harry’s loud “Well done, pet!I’m proud of you!” all these were very gratifying to her. But theseoutward demonstrations seemed to her something to which she was notentitled, and so dismayed her that she took every opportunity possibleto hide herself on the appearance of visitors.

  The destruction of the mill was a bitter disappointment to her. She hadset her heart on earning a hundred dollars. She had reached ninety, andthe opportunity had vanished in fire and smoke. Not all the praise ofCleverly could compensate her for this loss. But though disappointed,she was not disheartened; and leaving the ninety safely locked, likethe good woman in the Scriptures, she went searching about to discoverthe missing ten.

  October came, and school opened once more, Mr. Drinkwater in his place,and Becky and Teddy among his pupils. For a time the young master,with his lively interest in their studies and out-door pastimes, hisoriginal way of making the most laborious duties pleasant, was missed;but Mr. Drinkwater was an earnest teacher, a kind and honorable man,methodical in his course of training, and under his charge the schoolprospered.

  Harry Thompson was still an inmate of Mr. Drinkwater’s house, chafingunder the restraint of inaction, yet obedient to the wishes of themother to whom he owed his education, whose loving heart couldnot harbor the thought of a long absence, and whose faith in thereconciliation that would place her son in his home was still strong.How it was to be brought about, she knew not; but this separation wasunnatural; it must have an end. Only have patience, and the perfectworker, in God’s good time, would mend the broken threads.

  One cold November afternoon, Mrs. Thompson, with her knitting needlesbusily plying, sat in the sitting-room of the little brown house, nowmade very comfortable by the zealous workers. A miniature bonfirecrackled and blazed in the broad fireplace, bountifully supplied byHarry Thompson, who lazily lounged in a rocking-chair before it, anddivided his attention between a frequent piling of sticks and thecontents of a portfolio in his lap.

  Into this cosy retreat, with a rush of cold air, burst Becky Sleeper,in her usual dashing style, flinging her books on the sofa, her hat inone corner, her cloak in another, her gloves on the mantel-piece, andherself into a chair.

  “There, Aunt Rebecca! I’ve stood this just as long as I’m a going to.I must earn money somehow. That hateful ten got into two of my sumsto-day, and completely ruined them. It haunts me. Master Drinkwaterasked me how many straight lines there were in a dollar mark, and Isaid ten; how many senses there were, and I said ten; and I got welllaughed at. It’s no use. I never can succeed in anything more until Iearn that ten dollars. So don’t oppose me, for I’m determined to getwork at the woolen mill.”

  Having emphatically launched this alarming threat, Becky appliedherself to the task of raising the temperature of that truthfulthermometer,--her nose,--which indicated a state of the weather butlittle above zero. This she did by a brisk application of her hand,with her eyes fastened upon her companions.

  “Take care, Becky; you’ll rub it off. It’s very tender, and there’sbut little of it,” said Harry, with a laugh. “Woolen mill, indeed! Youcan’t get up a blaze there; it’s brick.”

  “Don’t think of such a thing, child. There’s no necessity for yourearning money,” said Mrs. Thompson.

  “Necessity or not, I mean to try. To-morrow morning I shall go there,and ask for work,” replied Becky; “so don’t try to stop me, for I knowit’s right for me to do all I can for the support of the family.”

  “Earn money in the woolen mill! Nonsense! Why, there’s talent enough inthis portfolio to give you a handsome living, independent of the dustand dirt of an ugly, noisy mill.”

  “In that portfolio?” said Becky. “What do you mean, Harry?”

  “Why, didn’t you know, Becky, that men have made fortunes by theirskill with the pencil and brush?”

  “Men! Men can do anything; but girls can’t.”

  “Don’t be so sure of that Becky. I know a young lady who earns twice asmuch as you ever did in the paper mill, by the use of a pencil.”

  “You know a young lady?” said Becky, with a flush. “Who--where? What’sher name?”

  Harry laughed.

  “Ah, now you’re getting inquisitive, Miss Becky.”

  “I know who it is, Becky,” said Mrs. Thompson. “He’s told me all aboutit, and I’ll tell you.”

  “Mother, mother,” said Harry, with much sternness, “secrets are sacred.You must not tell.”

  Becky began to feel decidedly uncomfortable. Here was a young lady shehad never heard of. There was a secret, and it must not be told. O,dear! somebody was coming between Harry and herself. She covered hereyes with her hand; her face was burning.

  “What a silly goose!” she thought, and fell to rubbing her nose again,which now indicated a very high degree of temperature.

  “No matter, Becky,” said Harry, noticing her confusion; “I’ll makea clean breast of it, and let you into the secret. When I was atCambridge, I boarded with a widow who had one daughter. She was aboutyour age, and her name was Alice. Nice name--isn’t it!”

  “I don’t know. Yes--yes,” said Becky; “of course. Didn’t she have anyother name?”

  “Certainly--Alice Parks. But Alice is such a pretty name, it’s a pityit didn’t stand alone, and have no parks about it. Alice--Alice. I dolike that name!”

  “Why, Harry, what are you thinking of?” asked Mrs. Thompson, insurprise.

  “Thinking of Alice, of course,” said Becky, with a little snap oftemper. “I don’t see what that’s got to do with a pencil.”

  “Then we’ll come to the point--of the story, not the pencil,” saidHarry, who was evidently enjoying the confusion of Becky. “Well, youmust know, I took a great fancy to this girl, she was so pretty, andso gentle and obliging. They were poor people, and found it hard tokeep up a respectable appearance, and make their home comfortable, andtable inviting. But they did it; and it was just the nicest, cosiestplace in all the world, except home.” Harry sobered here, and lookedat his mother. “Well, Alice had a talent for painting and drawing, andamused herself in her leisure moments with making sketches and watercolors, with which to adorn their rooms. I was very grateful to themfor their kindness to me; and one day I purloined some of Alice’sdrawings, and took them into Boston. I had often played cricket withan Englishman,--John Woodfern,--who, I knew, was one of the bestengravers in America. I took
the sketches to him, told my story, andasked him to do something for the girl. He took a fancy to the drawingsat once. He had a fancy for me already; and, fortunately, he had justtaken a contract to supply a children’s magazine, then in successfuloperation. He sent for Alice, took a fancy to her, too, and at once sether to work. She is now a successful artist. So you see, Becky, what ayoung girl can do, when she has a smart, enterprising man to help her.Ahem!”

  “Do you think I could do that too?” asked Becky, with sparkling eyes.

  “Of course you could. John Woodfern could never refuse such convincingproofs as are packed away in this portfolio.”

  “O, isn’t that splendid! I know I should like that work,” cried Becky,jumping up and clapping her hands. “I’ll go to Boston at once!”

  “Hold on, hold on, aspiring genius!” exclaimed Harry. “You go toBoston--one hundred and twenty miles! Nonsense! You will stay at home,and go to school; and when the term is over, we’ll see what can bedone.”

  “But I can’t wait. I must have work. O, let me go. I can find the way,and Mr. John Woodfern, too.”

  “No, no; I won’t aid you unless you strictly conform to my wishes. Am Inot right, mother?”

  “Yes, Harry,” said Mrs. Thompson; “it’s best that Becky give herattention to home and school this winter. Be patient, Becky. Harry hasopened an agreeable field of labor to you, where you shall work in goodtime.”

  “Yes, Becky, I’ve discovered the mine where lie concealed treasuresof wealth, which you shall pick with the point of a pencil. Only waituntil I give you the word.”

  Discovered a mine? Ah, Master Harry, you’ve reared a mine of anothersort, and laid a train, and put the match into the hands of aquick-witted girl. Look out for a speedy explosion.

  This new idea so bewitched Becky, that the haunting figures ten werequickly rubbed out of existence in her day-dreams, to give place to theUtopian vision of fame and fortune, which Harry had conjured for herespecial benefit. Mother and son departed. The girl sat and gazed intothe fire, with mingled feelings of hope and disappointment. There wasa bright prospect in the future for her. Harry had said she had thetalent; her own heart told her she had the power to accomplish thisnew undertaking. But he had put the attempt a long way off, and badeher be patient. Patience, indeed! Wait until the end of the term--sixmonths. In that time what an immense sum could be added to her store!No; she would act at once. Patience, as yet, was no prominent qualityin her volatile disposition; and now, when so easy a victory over thecrushing despot, dependence she so loathed was at her will, she couldnot heed its voice. She would act at once. And then the thought of thedear friends she must disappoint by her disobedience checked her. Butagain the ambitious fever raged, and into her musings crept Miss AliceParks; Alice, of whom Harry was so fond! She would go. She would seethis paragon, and know why he raved so about her. And so, two desiresmingled in her meditations, the one born of a healthy ambition toachieve independence, the other springing from a jealous affection, toomischievous to be the happy tenant of a young girl’s heart.

  For three days duty and inclination struggled with Becky for themastery. In the afternoon of the fourth day she took from her box thecarefully hoarded sum she had earned at the paper mill, and set out forschool.

  That afternoon Captain Thompson, as was his usual custom, was seatedat his desk in the corner of the sitting-room, making up his accountsfor the day. He was alone; his good wife, as was _her_ usual afternooncustom, was at Mrs. Sleeper’s--a proceeding of which the pepperycaptain took not the least apparent notice. But he knew all that hadhappened during the year; knew what was happening now--the dailymeetings of his wife and son; the reformation of Becky; his son’s bravedeed in the dam; the girl’s heroism at the burning mill. But he nevermade any comments, and to all seemed an uninterested man, wrapped inship-building and monetary speculations.

  But one single thread connected him with any interest in the Sleeperaffairs. He and Teddy Sleeper had become warm friends. Teddy hadwandered into the ship-yard one day, had watched the ship upon thestocks, and the men at work, and, desiring some information, had coollywalked up to Captain Thompson, and asked a question. The captain lookedat him in surprise, then kindly answered him, found he was interestedin the ship, and, to the astonishment of everybody, sat down, and toldhim all about it. From that time Teddy’s out-door life was passed inthe ship-yard. After school found him there, and the captain expectinghim. They drove about town together; and people said the boy had gotthe right side of the captain, and his fortune would be made.

  But not a word of home dropped from Teddy’s lips. The captain neverasked questions in that direction; and Teddy was too shrewd to periltheir friendship by treading on forbidden ground. This day Teddy hadnot put in an appearance, and for that or some other reason the captainwas in his unhappiest mood. He blotted his ledger, spilled his ink,hitched about in his chair, and puffed and worried, until he workedhimself into a steaming mood, that required frequent applications ofhis handkerchief. In his highest state of excitement came a knock atthe front door.

  “Here, you, Silly, you silly thing! where are you?” he shouted. “Seewho’s at the door.”

  There was a “clap-clap-clap” in the next room, and Silly York made herappearance.

  “Do you want me, captain?”

  “No, I don’t want you. Somebody’s at the door. If they want you,they’re welcome to you.”

  “Do you want me to go to the door?”

  “Of course I do. What else are you here for? Start yourself, quick!”

  Silly stepped across the room, and opened a door, and passed into thefront entry.

  “Here, you! mind! I’m busy, and don’t want to see anybody. Shut thatdoor!”

  Silly slammed the door after her. Then the captain heard a scream, andSilly’s voice.

  “O, you dear little thing! I must hug you! Come right in.”

  The door flew open.

  “Didn’t I tell you I wouldn’t see anybody?” shouted the captain.

  “You don’t know who it is. You wouldn’t shut her out--would you? Shesaved my sister!”

  “Hang your sister! She--” And then he stopped, for in the room stoodSilly, and the last one he ever expected to meet in his house--BeckySleeper.

  The captain looked at her in astonishment. He knew her well. They hadnever spoken to each other since that first day at school--but he hadwatched her since then--was well informed as to her progress. And yet,the bright, young, well-dressed, graceful girl, with a smile on herface, standing before him, took him by surprise, and made a _gentle_man of him at once.

  “I hope I do not interrupt you, Captain Thompson,” said Becky, verygently; “but I have a little business with you; and if you would kindlygive me five minutes, I should be very much obliged.”

  The captain got up from his chair, and made a low bow. It surprised himas soon as it was done; but he couldn’t help it.

  “Certainly, Miss Becky, if I can be of service to you,--Silly, youneedn’t stop.”

  “But I want to,” said Silly. “She saved my sister.”

  Becky laughed.

  “I’ll come out and see you before I go,” she said. “You’re not afraidto trust me alone with the captain--are you?”

  Silly looked at the captain and then at Becky, evidently believing thatit was her duty to stay and protect Becky.

  “Here; you start your boots--quick!”

  The captain mounted his high horse, and Silly started for the kitchenin a hurry.

  “Now, Miss Becky, what have you to say?”

  The captain sat at his desk, and motioned Becky to a chair. She did notobey his motion, but came to his side.

  “Captain Thompson, I’ve been wanting to come to you, to thank you forbeing so kind to us all, for helping--no, not helping, for you havedone everything. You have given us food and clothing; and without youraid I don’t know what would have become of us.”

  “O, pshaw!” said the captain. “Is that all you came for?”

/>   “No. I came to beg your pardon for being so much trouble to you when Iwas a wild tomboy. I was young then; didn’t know how wrong it was. I’molder now, and see my error.”

  The captain looked at her with increasing wonder. Could this be thetomboy who had snatched his whip from his hand, stolen his horse, andgiven him such a chase--this little woman, with her sweet voice andpenitent air? Or was this some new trick?

  “Well,” said he at last, gruffly; “is that all you came for?”

  “No,” answered Becky. “When I found that we were indebted to you forfood and clothing, when I began to be a better girl, I felt it was meanto let you do everything, and I, strong and active, doing nothing; so Iwent to work in the paper mill. You know how it was destroyed.”

  “Yes; and how a brave girl, at the risk of her own life, saved a weakand helpless companion,” burst out the captain. “O, I know it!”

  “Yes,” said Becky, with heightened color, “the mill was burned. I hadsaved ninety dollars. O, I did so want to make it a hundred! But Icouldn’t. I meant to bring it to you, to pay you in part for what youhad done for me and mine. But I’ve brought you the ninety.” And Beckysuddenly laid upon the desk before the eyes of the astonished captainher savings.

  The captain started, then stared at the little pile of money very hard,then harder still at Becky, and back at the money again, until tearsbegan to drop from his eyes, when, without any further ceremony, hepulled out his handkerchief, and blubbered like a big school-boy. Itwas now Becky’s turn to be surprised.

  “O, captain, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I only wantedto repay you just a little for your kindness. I didn’t mean anyharm--indeed I didn’t.”

  “Becky Sleeper, you’re a little angel, and I’m an ugly old brute. Pickup your money. I don’t want it. To think that I’ve been abusing you allthis time, and you coming in this way to pour coals of fire on my head.I’m an old fool! Take your money--quick!”

  “No, captain, don’t ask me to do that. If you knew what a temptationthat money has been to me, you would never ask me--never.”

  “Temptation! What do you mean?”

  “I’ll tell you, captain, a secret. You must not tell, not even AuntRebecca. You won’t--will you?” Becky smiled at the captain. “Honorbright.”

  The captain smiled at Becky. It was a good-humored smile. They weregetting on famously.

  “I’ll keep your secret, Becky, when I get it.”

  “Well, then, you must know that I’ve just learned of a very nice way tomake money, one I should like very much. To get it in this nice way, itis necessary to make a journey to Boston, to see a certain man, and hewould give me drawing, for engravings. Aunt Rebecca--no, Harry--told meof it; your Harry.”

  The captain did not stop her at the mention of that name, a nameforbidden to be spoken in that house. There was a little more color inhis face; but he looked steadily at her.

  “I had the money to take me there, and I was tempted to use it;tempted, O, so hard! till at last I remembered it was your money; and,to put the temptation from me, I brought it to you. I didn’t want tountil I had the hundred. Now I’m glad I did. Had I gone, I should havedisobeyed Aunt Rebecca, and--Harry.”

  “Why disobeyed Aunt Rebecca?” said the captain, quietly dropping theother party.

  “Because _they_,” said Becky, not relishing the dropping game, “forbademy going until the expiration of the school term.”

  “How? _She_ forbid you! It’s a good idea; a nice way of earning money;and you want to go still?”

  “O, indeed I do, if only it was right.”

  “Right? Of course it’s right,” said the captain, roused at a chance foropposition. “_She’s_ no right to prevent you, and I should like to seeher do it. You want to go to Boston. You shall go.”

  Becky flushed with pleasure.

  “O, if could only go! I know I could succeed. But what would AuntRebecca and--”

  “Hang Aunt Rebecca!” shouted the captain, cutting in to prevent theaddition of the other name. “I’ve just as much right to direct youractions as she has. I’m going to Boston to-morrow morning. You shall gowith me.”

  Before the appearance of Becky, the captain had no intention of takinga journey.

  “O, that will be splendid--if I only could.”

  “You can, and shall. Go home, get ready, and to-morrow morning atfive o’clock meet me at the school-house. Phil shall drive us over toFoxtown. We’ll take the cars there, and be in Boston at one. Here, takeyour money;” and the captain swept it from the desk, and put it in herhand. “When I want it, I’ll ask for it.”

  “But how can I ever pay you?”

  “By shaking hands, and being friends with the old man. You may add akiss if you like.”

  “A dozen!” cried Becky, throwing her arms about the captain’s neck.“You dear, good, kind, noble old captain!”

  “Now, good by, little one. Be sure and be on time to-morrow morning atfive.”

  “When the clock strikes, you’ll find me there. Good by.”

  Becky ran home with a happy heart, bounced into the sitting room, andtold them all about it--Mrs. Thompson and Harry; then ran to hermother’s room, and told her; then to the kitchen, and told Aunt Hulda.And such a surprised household it would be hard to find.

  Harry Thompson frowned, and was inclined to put a stop to the journey;but his mother looked happy.

  “Our little witch has caught the captain. Do not interfere, for out ofthis friendship I foresee a happy day for you and me. ‘Let patiencehave her perfect work.’”