XII.

  _UNCLE RUTHVEN'S WORK._

  DOLLY, quite tired out with pain, had sunk into a restless sleep;and Mr. and Mrs. Stanton were sitting on the rocks outside the door,waiting till Mr. Bradford should return, when a sweet, clear whistle,like a bird-call, rang through the wood. It was repeated again, andyet again, and was plainly some signal. Each time it came nearer,and at the third sounded close at hand; and the next instant Lemsprang round a point of the rock. As he caught sight of the lady andgentleman before the hovel door, he started, and, after staring atthem for one instant, turned to run away.

  But Mr. Stanton's voice stopped him.

  "Do not run off again," he said, kindly; "your sister is very sick,and lying here in the house. Come and see her."

  Lem stood a moment, half doubtful; then rushed past the gentlemaninto the house. He came out again presently, his eyes wide open withastonishment and alarm.

  "What you been a doin' to her?" he said, fiercely.

  "We found her lying upon the rocks, unable to move," said Mr. Stanton,not heeding the angry tone, "and so brought her here in this chair. Wehave sent to Mrs. Porter for some things to make a bed for her, but nobed can be kept fit for her unless it is quite dry; and I fear thisroof of yours is not water-tight. I wonder if you and I could not makeit so. Do you know where you can buy some straw?"

  "Know where there's plenty of straw for them as can pay for it,"answered Lem.

  "Oh, well," said Mr. Stanton, cheerfully, "you find the straw, andI'll do the paying. There; bring as many bunches as they will giveyou for that," and he put fifty cents into Lem's hand.

  The boy gazed at the money open-mouthed,--probably he had never inhis life had so much, honestly come by, in his hands at once,--turnedit over, stared at Mr. Stanton, and then again at the money. That anyone should trust him with money, or with any thing that had the leastvalue, was something so new that he could scarcely believe his ownsenses.

  "They'll say I didn't come by it fair, and won't give me no straw," hesaid at last, thrusting the money back upon Mr. Stanton.

  The gentleman knew this was only too likely, and too well deserved;and, taking a pencil and slip of paper from his pocket-book, he wrotea few words, and handed the paper to Lem.

  Lem could neither read nor write, but he was no fool; and he knew thatthose few black marks would do more for him than any amount of talkingon his own part; but he was even yet a little suspicious. He stoodhesitating for a moment, looking back into the house, where his sisterlay moaning in her uneasy sleep, then darted away into the path whichled down the mountain.

  "Do you think he is to be trusted, Ruthven?" said Mrs. Stanton. "Willhe come back?"

  "I think so," replied her husband; "any way, I thought I would try it.It may give me some hold upon him."

  In less time than could have been thought possible by one who knew thedistance he had to go, Lem was back; but a good deal had been done inthe mean time. Mr. Bradford had returned with Starr and John Porter,bringing a straw bed and pillow, a coarse but clean pair of sheets,and a blanket. Good old Mrs. Porter came too, full of pity for theforlorn, sick child, and carrying a kettle of tea, ready milked andsugared.

  The bed had been made,--upon the floor, to be sure: there was no otherplace to put it,--Dolly had been given some medicine, her feveredface and hands washed, and she laid in the bed. A fire had beenkindled without, and the tea warmed afresh; and when Lem came backwith the straw, Mrs. Porter was just offering Dolly a drink. She tookit eagerly; but, although she knew Lem, she would not speak to him,and soon sank again into an uneasy sleep or stupor. Lem had broughtsix bundles of straw; and, throwing them down, he handed Mr. Stantonsome change, saying the man from whom he had bought them could let himhave no more, and had given him back that money.

  Mr. Stanton privately asked John Porter how much the straw should havecost, and found that Lem had brought him the right change. So here wassomething gained: the boy had been true to his trust for once.

  "Now we will go to work," said Mr. Stanton to Lem; and he told him tofollow him deeper into the woods, where he soon cut down a dozen or soof tall, slender saplings, and bade Lem strip them of their leavesand branches.

  When these were finished, some long strips of birch bark were cutby Mr. Stanton, while Lem stood looking on, and wondering if itwere possible the gentleman could be taking so much trouble for himand Dolly, and what in the world he could be going to do with thosethings. That was soon seen. When all had been made ready and carriedto the hut, Mr. Stanton made Lem climb upon the low roof, and,directing him how to lay the straw so as to cover the worst part,bound it in its place with the saplings, and tied them down with thestrips of birch. Lem wondered and admired as the strong, firm fingerstwisted and knotted, making all close and tight, and at last broke outwith,--

  "I say, mister, was you brought up to roof-mending?"

  "Not exactly," replied Mr. Stanton, with a smile; "but I have had tocontrive many a strange roof for myself and others. What should yousay to a roof made of a single leaf, large enough to shelter twelvemen from a scorching sun? Or to one of snow; ay, to roof, walls,floor, all of snow,--making a warm, comfortable home too?"

  "Are you the fellow they tell about that's hunted lions and tigers andwild beasts?" asked Lem, gazing with new interest at the gentleman.

  "I am the man," said Mr. Stanton.

  "And never got ate up?" questioned Lem, eagerly.

  "I am here to answer for that, though I have been pretty near it onceor twice. Should you like to hear some of my adventures some time?"

  "Wouldn't I, though! I s'pose you couldn't tell a feller now?"

  "Not now," said Mr. Stanton, "we have done the best we can for theroof, and I must go home; but I shall come over again this afternoonto see Dolly, and I will tell you the story of a tiger hunt then.But"--looking about him,--"this is not a very nice place to sit downand tell a story in, with all these bones, ashes, and bits of old ironlying about."

  "I'll fix it up, fustrate," exclaimed Lem; "but now, I say, mister,"and Lem hitched up his ragged pantaloons, scratched his head, and dughis bare toes into a patch of moss in an unwonted fit of shame.

  "Well," said Mr. Stanton, kindly.

  "I didn't take little Shiny-hair's cup, now, I didn't; and I wish youwouldn't think it."

  "I do not think it, Lem. The cup is found, and I do not believe youtook it."

  "Don't you, now?" said Lem, looking up; "well, I thought may be youdidn't when you gi' me the money for the straw."

  "I am glad to know that I may trust you, Lem," said Mr. Stanton.

  Mr. Bradford, Mrs. Stanton, and the Porters had long since gone away,leaving Mr. Stanton to finish the roof. He walked slowly homeward,wondering if he had that morning really gained any hold on thesewretched children; or if, as so many others had proved, his pains hadall been labor thrown away. When he reached the fireplace, he foundthat the rest of the party had gone home; for the mending of the roofhad been a good two hours' work, and it was now nearly Mrs. Porter'searly dinner hour.

  When Mr. Bradford left Lem's hovel, and joined his wife and children,he found his little girls very eager for news of Dolly. He told themof all that had been done, and then said,--

  "Bessie, I have a pleasant surprise for you. Can you guess what it maybe?"

  "I know what I would _like_ it to be, papa, but I suppose it couldn't;and mamma said it was not best to wish for things that cannot be."

  "Well," said Mr. Bradford, "suppose you let me hear what you wouldlike it to be."

  "Papa, I would like it to be my cup; but if it was, I would be _too_surprised and _too_ glad for any thing, and I try not to think toomuch about it."

  Mr. Bradford put his hand into his pocket, and, pulling out thebeloved cup, held it before the delighted eyes of his little daughter.She gave a glad cry, and the next moment both small hands were holdingfast the recovered treasure, and clasping it to her breast. She evenkissed it in her joy and thankfulness. Then papa was asked when andhow he had found
it, and told the whole story. Maggie and Bessie werevery glad to hear that it was probably the pedler who had taken thecup; for since they had been trying to act and feel kindly towards Lemand Dolly, they were anxious to believe as much good and as little illof them as possible.

  "For you see, papa," said Maggie, "you see the pedler is quite astranger to us, and we know Lem and Dolly a little. It's a pretty poorkind of a way to be acquainted, to be sure; but then we are prettyinterested about them, and we like to think they did not do this onebad thing. And I think it would be rather astonishing if Dolly wasnot mad when Lem was shut up, and she knew he had not taken Bessie'scup. I would have been, if some one had shut up Fred or Harry, and I'mafraid I would have wanted to return them a little evil; so now it isa little easier to forgive her about our gardens."

  "And she said she was sorry about the gardens," said Bessie; "maybe itwas her sorriness that made her tell where my cup was. Oh, my dear,dear cup! I am so glad it has come back."

  And now the cup must have a good washing in the spring; after which,Bessie took a long drink from it. Not that she was in the leastthirsty, but it was such a pleasure to drink once more from thebeloved cup, and she thought no water had ever tasted so delicious.Then each one of her friends was obliged to take a drink, and to sayhow very nice it was; and for the rest of the day, she was every fiveminutes asking some one if they were not thirsty, and if she couldpersuade them to say yes, she would run and fill the cup. So muchwater did she and Maggie find it necessary to drink, and so much didthey persuade, and even bribe, Frankie to take, that mamma was obligedto put a stop to the fun lest they should make themselves sick.

  When Mr. Stanton and Mr. Bradford went up to the hut that afternoon,they found that Lem had been as good as his word. All the old bonesand feathers, bits of rusty iron, half-burnt sticks, and ashes, hadbeen picked up, and put out of sight. Lem had even made a poor broomout of some dry birch twigs and a stick, and with this he had triedto sweep off the broad slab of rock on which the house stood. It wasnot half done, to be sure; Lem was not used to sweeping, or to makingthings tidy; but he thought he had made the place very fine for hisnew friends, and they did not fail to praise and admire. Moreover,Lem had washed his face, for the first time perhaps in many weeksor months; and, although he had left his cheeks all streaked andchannelled, it was at least an attempt at something better, and, sofar, even this was promising.

  Dolly was awake, but quite wild, and talked in a rambling way ofsilver cups and angels, of gardens and music, of the Ice Glen and thedark, dark night. Her fever was very high, and her poor head rolledfrom side to side; but, in spite of her restlessness, she could notmove hand or foot, for the terrible pains which racked her and madeher cry out on the slightest motion.

  "She's awful sick, aint she?" said Lem, as he stood beside the twogentlemen, and saw with what grave faces they watched his sister.

  "She is very sick, Lem," said Mr. Bradford; "too sick to be left herealone with you. I must go and see if I can find some one to come andtake care of her to-night;" and, after saying a few words in French tohis brother-in-law, Mr. Bradford walked away.

  Mr. Stanton stayed behind. He had brought with him the upper half ofan old window-sash which he had begged from Mr. Porter, a hammer, andsome large nails; and he now told Lem they must go to work again, andhe would tell the promised story as they worked. The sash was toolarge for the square hole in the side of the house which served fora window; but Mr. Stanton made it answer for the time, hanging it bystrips of leather, nailed at one end to the sash, at the other to theboards above the window. This now served the purpose, since it couldbe raised or let down as might be needed. Then the crazy door wastaken down, and hung anew on its two hinges; and, as the old latch wasquite worn out and useless, Mr. Stanton fashioned a wooden button bywhich it might be fastened.

  Meanwhile he told in low tones, that Dolly might not be disturbed, thestory of a famous tiger hunt. Lem listened eagerly,--listened withears, eyes, and mouth, if such a thing could be; for the two latterwere so wide open that he seemed to be drinking in the tale by theseas well as by the proper channel. But Mr. Stanton soon found he wasnot to be depended upon for work. Accustomed to an idle, lazy life,Lem could not fix his attention and employ his hands at the sametime. If Mr. Stanton reminded him of his work, he would hammer or cutaway for one moment; the next his hands would be clasping his knees inan ecstasy of delight and wonder at the strange but true tale he waslistening to.

  The gentleman let it pass, however. Lem's help was not of much accountat the best; and his object just now was to gain a hold on the boy,and interest him. Teaching, advice, or reproof might come by and by,when he had made Lem feel he meant to be a friend to him.

  Nevertheless, Lem had not the least idea that he had not done his ownshare of the work; and when the door and make-shift window were bothin their places he exclaimed,--

  "We did fix it up fustrate; didn't we mister?"

  "I am glad you like it," said Mr. Stanton, looking about him. "Whathave you there, Lem?" and he pointed to four small rustic boxesstanding at the side of the hut. They were made of twigs and bits ofwood curiously woven together, and were filled with earth. Two ofthese held nothing else, in each of the others grew two scraggy littleplants.

  "Oh, them!" said Lem, "them's nothing but Doll's pots. She made 'emat odd times, always had a knack that way; and them things growin' in'em is marygools, I guess. She picked up a paper with some seeds init, on the road one day, and nothin' would serve her but to plant 'em.So she made the pots for 'em and stuck 'em in, but none of 'em cometo nothin', only them two. I tell her there's lots of better lookin'things in the woods, to be had for the pickin'; but somehow she sets aheap by them old things, and waters 'em every day.

  "Then you must take care of them for her, while she is sick; won'tyou?" said Mr. Stanton.

  "S'pose so," said Lem; "but they'll never be no good."