Rose O'Paradise

  CHAPTER XIV

  "HE'S COME TO LIVE WITH US, PEGGY"

  They trailed along in silence, the girl watching the birds as flockafter flock disappeared in the north woods. Now and then, when Jinnielooked at the boy, she felt the pride which comes only withpossession. She was going to work for him, to intercede with Peg, toallow the foundling to join that precious home circle where thecobbler and his wife reigned supreme.

  As they reached the plank walk, the boy lagged back.

  "I'm tired, girl," he panted. "I've walked till I'm just near dead."

  He cried quietly as Jinnie led him into the shadow of a tree.

  "Sit here with me," she invited. "Lay your head on my arm."

  And this time he snuggled to her till the blind eyes and the purseddelicate mouth were hidden against her arm.

  "I told you, Bobbie," Jinnie resumed presently, "I'd let you be Lafe'slittle boy, didn't I?"

  "Yes, girl," replied the boy, sleepily.

  "Now wasn't that awful good of me?"

  "Awful good," was the dreamy answer. "My stars're glory bright now."

  "And most likely Lafe'll help you see with your eyes, just like HappyPete and me!" Jinnie went on eagerly. "All the trees and hundreds ofbirds, some of 'em yellow and some of 'em red, an' some of 'em solittle and cunning they could jump through the knothole in Peg'skitchen.... Don't you wish to see all that?"

  The small face brightened and the unseeing eyes flashed upward.

  "I'd find my mother, then," breathed Bobbie.

  "And you'd see a big high tree, with a robin making his nest in it!...Have y' ever seen that?"

  Jinnie was becoming almost aggressive, for, womanlike, with a point tomake, each argument was driven home with more power.

  "No," Bobbie admitted, and his voice held a certain tragic littlenote.

  "And you've never seen the red running along the edge of the sky, justwhen the sun's going down?"

  Again his answer was a simple negative.

  "And hasn't anybody tried to show you a cow and her calf in thecountry, nipping the grass all day, in the yellow sunshine?"

  Jinnie was waxing eloquent, and her words held high-sounding hope. Theinterest in the child's face invited her to go on.

  "Now I've said I'd let my folks be yours, and didn't I find you, andhave you got any one else? If you don't let me help you to Lafe's, howyou going to see any of 'em?" She paused before delivering her bestpoint, which was addressed quite indifferently to the sky. "And justthink of that hot soup!"

  This was enough. Bobbie struggled up, flushed and agitated.

  "Put your arm around me, girl," which invitation Jinnie quicklyaccepted.

  Then they two, so unlike, went slowly down the walk toward the tracksto Lafe Grandoken's home.

  Jinnie's heart vied with a trip-hammer as they turned into ParadiseRoad. She did not fear the cobbler, but the thought of Peggy's harshvoice, her ruthless catechizing, worried her not a little.Nevertheless, she kept her arm about the boy, steadily drawing him on.When they came to the side door of the house, the girl turned thehandle and walked in, leading her weary companion.

  Resolutely she passed on to the kitchen, for she wanted thedisagreeable part over first. She fumbled in hesitation with the knobof the door, and Peg, hearing her, opened it. At first, the woman sawonly Jinnie, with Happy Pete by her side. Then her gaze fell upon theother child, whose blind, entreating eyes were turned upward insupplication.

  "This is Bobbie," announced Jinnie, "and he's come to live with us,Peggy."

  Poor Peggy stared, surprised to silence. She could find no words tofit the occasion.

  "He hasn't any home!" Jinnie gasped for breath in her excitement."Mag, a woman somewhere, beat him and he ran away and I found 'im. Sohe belongs to us now."

  She was gaining assurance every moment. She hoped that Peggy wassilently acquiescing, for the woman hadn't uttered a word; she wasmerely looking from one to the other with her characteristically blankexpression.

  "I'm going to give him half of Lafe, too," confided Jinnie, noddingher head toward the waiting child.

  Then Peggy burst forth in righteous indignation. She demanded to knowhow another mouth was to be fed, and clothes washed and mended; wherethe brat was to sleep, and what good he was anyway.

  "Do you think, kid," she stormed at Jinnie, "you're so good yourselfwe're wantin' to take another one worser off'n you are? Don't believeit! He can't stay here!"

  Jinnie held her ground bravely.

  "Oh, I'll start right out and sell wood all day long, if you'll lethim stay, Peg."

  A tousled lock of yellow hair hung over Bobbie's eyes.

  "Oh, Peggy, dear, Mrs. Good Peggy, let me stay!" he moaned, swaying."I'm so tired, s'awful tired. I can't find my mother, nor no place,and my stars're all out!"

  Sobbing plaintively, he sank to the floor, and there the childishheart laid bare its misery. Then Jinnie, too, became quite limp, andforgetting all about "Happy in Spite," she knelt alongside of hernewly acquired friend, and the two despairing young voices rose to thewoman standing over them. Jinnie thrust her arms around the littleboy.

  "Don't cry, my Bobbie," she sobbed. "I'll go back to the hills withyou, because you need me. We'll live with the birds and squirrels, andI'll sell wood so we c'n eat."

  When she raised her reproachful eyes to Peg, and finished with a swipeat her offending nose with her sleeve, she had never looked morebeautiful, and Peggy glanced away, fearing she might weaken.

  "Tell Lafe I love him, and I love you, too, Peggy. I'll come every dayand see you both, and bring you some money."

  If she had been ten years older or had spent months framing a speechto fit the need of this occasion, Jinnie could not have been moreeffective, for Peg's rage entirely ebbed at these words.

  "Get up, you brats," she ordered grimly. "An' you listen to me, JinnieGrandoken. Your Bobbie c'n stay, but if you ever, so long as you live,bring another maimed, lame or blind creature to this house, I'll kickit out in the street. Now both of you climb up to that table an' eatsome hot soup."

  Jinnie drew a long breath of happiness. She had cried a little, shewas sorry for that. She had broken her resolve always to smile--to be"Happy in Spite."

  "I'll _never_ bring any one else in, Peg," she averred gratefully.

  Then she remembered how sweeping was her promise and changed it atrifle.

  "Of course if a kid was awful sick in the street and didn't have ahome, I'd have to fetch it in, wouldn't I?"

  Peggy flounced over to the table, speechless, followed by the twochildren.