CHAPTER VII
JUST A JEW
When the cobbler was at work again, Virginia, after picking up a fewnails and tacks scattered on the floor, sat down.
"Would you like to hear something about me and Peggy, lassie?" heinquired, "an' will you take my word for things?"
Jinnie nodded trustfully. She had already grown to love the cobbler,and her affection grew stronger as she stated:
"There isn't anything you'd tell me, cobbler, I wouldn't believe!"
With slow importance Lafe put down his hammer.
"I'm a Israelite," he announced.
"What's that?" asked the girl, immediately interested.
The cobbler looked over his spectacles and smiled.
"A Jew, just a plain Jew."
"I don't know what a Jew is either," confessed Jinnie.
Lafe groped for words to explain his meaning.
"A Jew," he ventured presently, "is one of God's----chosen----folks. Imean one of them chose by Him to believe."
"Believe what?"
"All that God said would be," explained Lafe, reverently.
"And you believe it, cobbler?"
"Sure, kid; sure."
The shoemaker saw a question mirrored in the depths of the violeteyes.
"And thinking that way makes you happy, eh, Mr. Lafe? Does it make yousmile the way you do at girls without homes?"
As she put this question sincerely to him, Jinnie reminded the cobblerof a beautiful flower lifting its proud head to the sun. In hisexperience with young people, he had never seen a girl like this one.
"It makes me happier'n anything!" he replied, cheerfully. "Thewonderful part is I wouldn't know about it if I hadn't lost my legs.I'll tell you about it, lass."
Jinnie settled back contentedly.
"A long time ago," began Mr. Grandoken, "God led a bunch of Jews outof a town where a king was torturin' 'em----"
The listener's eyes darkened in sympathy.
"They was made to do a lot of things that hurt 'em; their babies andwomen, too."
Jinnie leaned forward and covered the horny hand with her slenderfingers.
"Have you ever had any babies, Lafe?" she ventured.
A perceptible shadow crossed the man's face.
"Yes," said he hesitatingly. "Me and Peggy had a boy--a little fellowwith curly hair--a Jew baby. Peggy always let me call him a Jew baby,though he was part Irish."
"Oh!" gasped Jinnie, radiantly.
"I was a big fellow then, kid, with fine, strong legs, an' nights,when I'd come home, I'd carry the little chap about."
The cobbler's eyes glistened with the memory, but shadowed almostinstantly.
"But one day----" he hesitated.
The pause brought an exclamation from the girl.
"And one day--what?" she demanded.
"He died; that's all," and Lafe gazed unseeingly at the snow-coveredtracks.
"And you buried him?" asked Virginia, softly.
"Yes, an' the fault was mostly mine, Jinnie. I ain't had no way tomake it up to Peggy, but there's lots of to-morrows."
"You'll make her happy then?" ejaculated the girl.
"Yes," said Lafe, "an' I might a done it then, but I wouldn't listento the voices."
A look of bewildered surprise crossed the girl's face. Were theyspirit voices, the voices in the pines, of which Lafe was speaking?She'd ask him.
"God's voices out of Heaven," said he, in answer to her query. "Theycome every night, but I wouldn't listen, till one day my boy was took.Then I heard another voice, demandin' me to tell folks what was whatabout God. But I was afraid an' a--coward."
The cobbler lapsed into serious thought, while Virginia moved a smallnail back and forth on the floor with the toe of her shoe. Shewouldn't cry again, but something in the low, sad voice made herthroat ache. After the man had been quiet for a long time, she pressedhim with:
"After that, Lafe, what then?"
"After that," repeated the cobbler, straightening his shoulders,"after that my legs went bad an' then--an' then----"
Virginia, very pale, went to the cobbler, and laid her head againsthis shoulder.
"An' then, child," he breathed huskily, "I believed, an' I know, aswell as I'm livin', God sent his Christ for everybody; that in thelovin' father"--Lafe raised his eyes--"there's no line drawed 'tweenJews an' Gentiles. They're all alike to Him. Only some're goin' oneroad an' some another to get to Him, that's all."
These were quite new ideas to Virginia. In all her young life no onehad ever conversed with her of such things. True, from her hill homeon clear Sunday mornings she could hear the church bells ding-dongtheir hoarse welcome to the farmers, but she had never been inside thechurch doors. Now she regretted the lost opportunity. She wished tograsp the cobbler's meaning. Noting her tense expression, Grandokencontinued:
"It was only a misunderstandin' 'tween a few Jews when they nailed theChrist to the cross. Why, a lot of Israelites back there believed in'im. I'm one of them believin' Jews, Jinnie."
"I wish I was a Jew, cobbler," sighed Jinnie. "I'd think the same asyou then, wouldn't I?"
"Oh, you don't have to be a Jew to believe," returned Lafe. "It's aseasy to do as 'tis to roll off'n a log."
This lame man filled her young heart with a deep longing to help himand to have him help her.
"You're going to teach me all about it, ain't you, Lafe?" sheentreated presently.
"Sure! Sure! You see, it's this way: Common, everyday folks--them withnarrer minds--ain't much use for my kind of Jews. I'm livin' here in amess of 'em. Most of 'em's shortwood gatherers. When I found out aboutthe man on the cross, I told it right out loud to 'em all. ... You'reone of 'em. You're a Gentile, Jinnie."
"I'm sorry," said the girl sadly.
"Oh, you needn't be. Peg's one, too, but she's got God's mark on hersoul as big as any of them women belongin' to Abraham, Isaac andJacob----I ain't sure but it's a mite bigger."
The speaker worked a while, bringing the nails from his lips in rapid,even succession. Peg was the one bright spot that shone out of hiswonderful yesterdays. She was the one link that fastened him securelyto a useful to-morrow.
Virginia counted the nails mechanically as they were driven into theleather, and as the last one disappeared, she said:
"Are you always happy, Lafe, when you're smiling? Why, yousmile--when--even when--" she stammered, caught her breath, andfinished, "even when Mrs. Peggy barks."
An amused laugh came from the cobbler's lips.
"That's 'cause I know her, lass," said he. "Why, when I first foundout about the good God takin' charge of Jews an' Gentiles alike, Itold it to Peg, an', my, how she did hop up an' down, right in themiddle of the floor. She said I was meddlin' into things that had tookmen of brains a million years to fix up.
"But I knew it as well as anything," he continued. "God's love isright in your heart, right there----" He bent over and gently touchedthe girl.
She looked up surprised.
"I heard He was setting on a great high throne up in Heaven," shewhispered, glancing up, "and he scowled dead mad when folks werewicked."
Lafe smiled, shook his head, and picked up his hammer.
"No," said he. "No, no! He's right around me, an' He's right aroundyou, an' everything a feller does or has comes from Him."
Virginia's thoughts went back to an episode of the country.
"Does He help a kid knock hell out of another kid when that kid isbeating a littler kid?"
Her eyes were so earnest, so deep in question, that the cobblerlowered his head. Not for the world would he have smiled at Virginia'soriginal question. He scarcely knew how to answer, but presentlysaid:
"Well, I guess it's all right to help them who ain't as big asyourself, but it ain't the best thing in the world to gad any one."
"Oh, I never licked any of 'em," Jinnie assured him. "I just wanted tofind out, that's all."
"What'd you do when other kids beat the littler ones?" demanded thecobbler.
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p; "Just shoved 'em down on the ground and set on 'em, damn 'em!"answered Jinnie.
Lafe raised his eyes slowly.
"I was wonderin' if I dared give you a lesson, lass," he began in alow voice.
"I wish you would," replied Virginia, eagerly. "I'd love anythingyou'd tell me."
"Well, I was wonderin' if you knew it was wicked to swear?"
Like a shot came a pang through her breast. She had offended herfriend.
"Wicked? Wicked?" she gasped. "You say it's wicked to swear,cobbler?"
Lafe nodded. "Sure, awful wicked," he affirmed.
Virginia took a long breath.
"I didn't know it," she murmured. "Father said it wasn't polite, butthat's nothing. How is it wicked, cobbler?"
Lafe put two nails into position in the leather sole and drove themdeep; then he laid down the hammer again.
"You remember my tellin' you this morning of the man with angels,white angels, hoverin' about the earth helpin' folks?"
"Yes," answered Virginia.
"Well, He said it was wicked."
An awe-stricken glance fell upon the speaker.
"Did He tell you so, Lafe?"
"Yes," said Lafe. "It ain't a question of politeness at all, but justbein' downright wicked. See, kid?"
"Yes, cobbler, I do now," Jinnie answered, hanging her head. "Nobodybut Matty ever told me nothing before. I guess she didn't know muchabout angels, though."
"Well," continued Lafe, going back to his story, "God give his littleboy Jesus to a mighty good man an' a fine woman--as fine as Peg--tobring up. An' Joseph trundled the little feller about just as I did mylittle Lafe, an' bye-an'-bye when the boy grew, He worked as hisFather in Heaven wanted him to. The good God helped Joseph an' Mary tobring the Christ down face to face with us--Jews an' Gentiles alike."
"With you and me?" breathed Virginia, solemnly.
"With you an' me, child," repeated the cobbler in subdued tones.
Virginia walked to the window and drummed on the pane. Through mereforce of habit the cobbler bent his head and caught the tacks betweenhis teeth. He did it mechanically; he was thinking of the future. Inthe plan of events which Lafe had worked out for himself and Peg,there was but one helper, and each day some new demonstration came tomake his faith the brighter. In the midst of his meditation, Jinniereturned to her seat.
"Cobbler, will you do something I ask you?"
"Sure," assented Lafe.
"Get busy trusting Peg'll get the two dollars to-night."
"I have long ago, child, an' she's goin' to get it, too. That's oneblessin' about believin'. No one nor nobody can keep you from gettin'what's your own."
"Mrs. Peggy doesn't think that way," remarked Virginia, with keenmemories of Mrs. Grandoken's snapping teeth.
"No, not yet, but I'm trustin' she will. You see how 'tis in thisshop. Folks is poor around here. I trust 'em all, Jews and Gentilesalike, but Peg thinks I ought to have the money the minute the work'sdone. But I know no man can keep my money from me, so I soothe herdown till she don't whine any more. That's how I know her bark'sworser'n her bite. Didn't I tell you about the biscuit?"
"Yes," replied Virginia, "and I hope it'll only be bark about themoney; what if she didn't get it?"
"She'll get it," assured Lafe, positively.
Just before bed time Lafe whispered in Jinnie's ear, "Peggy got thetwo! I told you she would. God's good, child, and we've all got Him inus alike."
And that night, as the air waxed colder and colder, VirginiaSingleton, daughter of the rich, slept her tired sleep amid thefighters of the world.