The Second Chance
CHAPTER IV
SOMETHING MORE THAN GESTURES
Wanting is--what? Summer redundant, Blueness abundant. Where is the blot?
_----Robert Browning._
PEARLIE WATSON, the new caretaker of the Milford school, stood broomin hand at the back of the schoolroom and listened. Pearlie's facewas troubled. She had finished the sweeping of the other three rooms,and then, coming into Miss Morrison's room to sweep it, she foundMaudie Ducker rehearsing her "piece" for the Medal Contest. MissMorrison was instructing Maudie, and Mrs. Ducker would have told youthat Maudie was doing "beautifully."
Every year the W. C. T. U. gave a silver medal for the best reciter,and for three consecutive years Miss Morrison had trained the winner;so Mrs. Ducker was naturally anxious to have Maudie trained by sosuccessful an instructor. Miss Morrison had studied elocution and"gesturing." It was in gesturing that Maudie was being instructedwhen Pearlie came in with her broom.
It was a pathetic monologue that Miss Morrison had chosen for Maudie,supposed to be given by an old woman in a poorhouse. Her husband haddied a drunkard and then her only son, "as likely a lad as you eversaw," had also taken to "crooked ways and left her all alone." Oneday a man came to visit the poorhouse, and poor "old Nan," glad ofany one to talk to, tells all her story to the sympathetic stranger,asking him at last wouldn't he try to find and save her poor Jim,whom she had never ceased to pray for, and whom she still believed inand loved. Then she discovered the man to be in tears, and of coursehe turns out to be the long-lost Jim, and a happy scene follows.
It is a common theme among temperance reciters, but to Pearlie it wasall new and terrible. She could not go on with her sweeping--she wasbound to the spot by the story of poor old Nan and her woes.
Miss Morrison was giving Maudie instruction on the two lines:
"It is the old, sad, pitiful story, sir, Of the devil's winding stair."
Neither of them had time to think of the meaning--they were soanxious about the gestures. Maudie did a long, waving sweep withthree notches in it, more like a gordon braid pattern than a stair,but it was very pretty and graceful, and Miss Morrison was pleased.
"And men go down and down and down To darkness and despair."
Maudie scalloped the air three times evenly to indicate the downgrade.
"Tossing about like ships at sea With helm and anchor lost."
Maudie certainly gave the ships a rough time of it with her willowyleft arm. Miss Morrison said that to use her left arm to toss theships would add variety.
"On and on thro' the surging waves, Not caring to count the cost."
Maudie rose on the ball of her left foot and indicated "distance"with the proper Delsarte stretch.
* * *
It was dark when Pearl got home. "Maudie Ducker has a lovely piece,"she began at once; "but she spoils it--she makes a fool of it."
The family were just at supper, and her mother said reprovingly, "OPearlie! now, sure Miss Morrison is teaching her, and they do besayin' she's won three medals herself.'"
"Well," Pearlie said, unconvinced, "them kind of carrin's-on may dofine for some pieces, but old women wid their hearts just breakin'don't cut the figger eight up in the air, and do the Dutch-roll, andkneel down and get up just for show--they're too stiff, for onething. Ye can't listen to the story the way Maudie carries on, she'sthat full of twists and turnin's. Maudie and Miss Morrison don't carea cent for the poor owld woman."
"Tell us about it, Pearlie," the young Watsons cried. "Well," Pearlbegan, as she hung up her thin little coat behind the door, "this Nanwas a fine, purty girl, about like Mary there, only she didn't have agood pa like ours; hers used to come home at night, full as ye plaze,and they were all, mother, too, scairt to death purty near. Under thebed they'd go, the whole bilin' of them, the minute they'd hear himcomin' staggerin' up to the cheek of the dure, and they'd have towait there 'ithout no supper until he'd go to sleep, and then outthey'd come, the poor little things, eyes all red and hearts beatin',and chew a dry crust, steppin' aisy for fear o' wakin' him."
"Look at that now!" John Watson exclaimed, pausing with his knifehalf way to his mouth.
"That ain't all in the piece," Pearl explained; "but it's understood,it says something about 'cruel blows from a father's hand when rumhad crazed his brain,' and that's the way poor Nan grew up, and Iguess if ever any girl got a heart-scald o' liquor, she did. But shegrew up to be a rale purty girl, like Mary Barrier, I think, and oneday a fine strappin' fellow came to town, clerkin in a store, steadyenough, too, and he sees Nan steppin' out for a pail of water one dayand her singin' to herself, and sez he to himself: 'There's the girlfer me!' and he was after steppin' up to her, polite as ye plaze(Pearl showed them how he did it), and says he: 'Them pails is heavyfor ye, miss, let me have them."
"And after that nothin' would do him but she must marry him, and hewas as fine a lookin' upstandin' fellow as you'd see any place, andsure Nan thought there had never been the likes of him. After thatshe didn't mind the old man's tantrums so much, for she was thinkin'all the time about Tom, and was gittin' mats and dish-towels made.And they had a fine weddin', with a cake and a veil and rice, and theold man kept straight and made a speech, and it was fine. And now,Ma, here's the part I hate to tell yez--it seems so awful. Theyhadn't been married long before Tom began to drink, too."
"The dirty spalpeen!" John angrily.
"Ye may well say that, Pa, after all she had to stand from the oldman. But that's what the piece said:
"But Tom, too, took to drinkin'; He said 'twas a harmless thing; So the arrow sped and my bird of hope Came down with a broken wing."
The Watson family were unanimous that Tom was a bad lot!
"Tom cut up worse than the old man, and she used to have to get someof the neighbours to come in and sit on his head while she tuk hisboots off, and she'd have clean give up if it hadn't been for herlittle boy, like Danny there; but if I ever thought that our Dannywould go back on us the way that young Jim went back on his ma, Idon't know how I'd stand it."
"What did he do, Pearlie?" Mary asked.
"Soon as he got big enough nothin' would do him but he'd drink too,and smoke cigarettes and stay out late, and one day stole somethin',and had to scoot, and she says so pitiful:
'I've never seen my poor lost boy From that dark day to this.'
Then the poorwoman goes to the poorhouse, mind you!"
"God help us!" cried Mrs. Watson, "did it come to that?"
"Yes, Ma; but what d'ye think? One day a finelookin' man came in tosee all the old folks, silk hat and kid gloves on him and all that,and this poor woman got talkin' to him, and didn't she up and tellhim the whole story, same as I'm tellin' you, only far more pitiful,and sure didn't she end up by beggin' him to be kind to her poorJimmy if he ever comes across him; and tellin' him how she alwaysprays for him and knows he'll be saved yet. She never held it againstthe young scamp that he never writ back even the scratch of a pen,just as full of excuses for him as Ma would be if it was one of youlads," and Pearl's voice quivered a little.
"But sure, now, it is wonderful how things turn out!" Pearlie wenton, after she had wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her checked apron,"for wasn't this Jim all the time forninst her, and her not knowin'it, and didn't he grab her in his arms and beg her to forgive him;and he cried and she cried, and then he took her away with him, andshe had a good time at last."
The next day Pearl borrowed the book from Maudie Ducker and learnedthe words, and for several evenings recited them to her admiring andtearful family. Then, to make it more interesting, Pearl let theyoung Watsons act it. Jimmy spoke right up and says he: "I bo'r to bethe old man, and come home drunk," but as this was the star part,Jimmy had to let Tommy and Billy have it sometimes.
The first scene was the father's spectacular homecoming. The nextscene was the wedding, and Jimmy made the speech after Pearl hadcoached him, and in most feeling terms he warned his son-in-lawagainst the flowing bowl, and told what a good
girl his little Nancywas, and what a bad pa he'd been; and then he broke down and criedreal tears, which Pearl said was "good actin'." The third scene waswhere Tom came home drunk. It was somewhat marred by Mary, who wasplaying the part of the broken-hearted bride, and was supposed toburst into tears when she saw the condition of her husband, and say:
"So the arrow has sped and my bird of hope Comes down with a broken wing."
Now Mary had her own ideas of how intemperate husbands should bedealt with, and she had provided herself with a small, flat stick asshe sat waiting in what was supposed to be joyful anticipation forher liege lord's homecoming. When she discovered his condition shecut out the speech about the "bird of hope," and used the stick withso much vigour that it seemed he was in more danger than the bird ofhope of having a broken wing. Billy, the bridegroom, was naturallyindignant, but his father was disposed to approve of Mary's methods."Faix, I'm thinkin'," he said, "there'd be less of it if they gotthat every time they cum home that way."
Scene IV was the young son (Patsey) fleeing from the hands ofjustice. Pearlie hid him behind the flour-barrel until the twosleuths of the law, Danny and Tommy, passed by, and then he wassupposed to do his great disappearing act through the cellar window.
Scene V was the most important of all. It was the poorhouse, andrequired a good deal of stage-setting. All evidences of wealth had tobe carefully eradicated. The cloth was taken from the table, and theone mat lifted off the floor. Newspapers were pinned over thewindows, and the calendars were turned with their faces to the wall.The lamp with the cracked chimney was lighted instead of the "goodlamp," and then Pearlie, with her mother's old black shawl around hershoulders, ceased to be Pearlie Watson and became poorhouse Nan,widowed, deserted, old as the world itself, with heartbreak andtears.
John Watson sat and listened to her with a growing wonder in hisheart, but as the story went on even he forgot that it was Pearl, andshed many unashamed tears over the sorrows of poorhouse Nan.
Camilla came in one night and heard Pearl recite it all through.
The morning of the contest an emergency meeting of the W. C. T. U.was hurriedly called at the home of Mrs. Francis. What was to bedone? Maudie Ducker and Mildred Bates had the measles, and could notrecite, which left only four reciters. They could do with five, butthey could not go on with four. The tickets were sold, the hallrented, the contest had been advertised over the country! Who couldlearn a recitation in a day? Miss Morrison was sent for. She said itwas impossible. A very clever pupil might learn the words, but notthe gestures, and "a piece" was nothing without gestures. Mrs. Whiteagain exclaimed: "_What shall we do?_"
Mrs. Francis said: "We'll see what Camilla says."
Camilla came and listened attentively while the woes of the W. C. T.U. were told her. It was with difficulty that she restrained anexclamation of delight when she heard that they were short ofreciters. "Pearl Watson knows Maudie's selection," she said quietly,"and recites it very well, indeed!'
"Impossible!" Miss Morrison exclaimed. "She has had no lessons."
"I think she watched you training Maudie," Camilla ventured.
"Only once," Miss Morrison replied, "and she can not possibly knowthe gestures; but we will be glad to have any one fill in. Peoplewill not expect her to do very well when she has had no training,"she added charitably.
When Camilla returned to the kitchen she was smiling gently. "There'sa surprise coming to little Miss Morrison," she said.
* * *
That night the hall was full to the door, and people stood in theaisles. Everybody loves a contest. Pearl and the other fourcontestants sat in a front seat. The latter were beautifully dressedin white net over silk, with shoes and stockings of white, andnumerous bows of ribbon.
By the draw that Miss Morrison made, Pearl came last on theprogramme, and Miss Morrison kindly asked the chairman to explainthat Pearl had had no training whatever, and that she had only knownthat she was going to recite that morning Miss Morrison wished to bequite fair!
Camilla sat beside Pearl. She had dressed Pearl for the occasion, andfelt rather proud of her work as she sat beside Contestant No. 5.Pearl's brown hair was parted and brushed smoothly back, and tiedwith two new bright red ribbons--Camilla's gift. It did not occur toPearl that she was in the race for the medal. She was glad of achance to fill in and help the contest along.
John Watson, Mrs. Watson, and all the little Watsons were present,and filled two side seats. Mr. Francis had heard something fromCamilla that caused him to send tickets to the whole Watson family,and even come himself, which was an unprecedented event.
Lucy Bates was the first contestant, and made her parents and manyadmiring relatives very proud of the a flutter of lace.
Maude Healy--the star reciter of the Hullett neighbourhood--recited"How Father Signed the Pledge," in a good, clear, ringing voice, andthe Hullett people thought they were just as sure of the medal as ifthey saw the chairman pinning it on Maude.
Two other girls recited, with numerous gestures, selections of thesame class; in which wayward sons, stormy nights, and railwayaccidents figured prominently.
Then the chairman made the explanation in regard to Pearl'sappearance, and asked her to come forward and recite. Camilla gaveher hand an affectionate little squeeze as she left the seat, and,thus fortified, Pearlie Watson faced the sea of faces unflinchingly.Then came that wonderful change--the little girl was gone, and an oldwoman, so bowed, so broken, began to tell her story, old enough tomost of us, but strong always in its gripping pathos--the story of achild cheated of her birthright of happiness because some men willgrow rich on other men's losses and fatten on the tears of littlechildren. The liquor traffic stood arraigned before the bar of God asthe story went on, unfolding darker and darker chapters in thewoman's life. It had been the curse that had followed her always, hadbeaten and bruised her, never merciful.
The people saw it in its awfulness, and the pity of it rolled overthem as they listened to that sad, old, cracked voice.
When she came to the place where she begged the well-dressed strangerto try and save her boy, and, clasping her trembling hands besoughtthe God of Heaven to bear with her Jim a little longer, and let hersee the desire of her heart, her son redeemed and forgiven, there wasan audible sob from some one in the back of the hall, and many a boyaway from home, careless and forgetful of his own mother, rememberedher now with sudden tenderness. The words of the prayer were stiffand unnatural, but when did the Spirit of God depend upon felicity ofexpression? It can abound wherever there is the honest heart, andwhen Pearl, with tears flowing down her cheeks, but with voice steadyand clear, thanked the God of all grace for sending her the answer toher prayers, even the dullest listener got a glimmering of the truththat there is "One behind the shadows who keeps watch above His own."
When Pearl had finished, the audience sat perfectly motionless, andthen burst into such a tornado of applause that the windows rattledin their casings.
John Watson sat still, but his heart was singing within him "Pearlie,Pearlie, God bless her!"
When the judges met for their decision it was found that they hadforgotten to mark Pearl as to memory, gesture, pronunciation, etc.,as their rules required them to do.
Father O'Flynn, the little Irish priest, wiping his eyessuspiciously, said: "Gentlemen, my decision is for Number 5." Theother two nodded.
And so it came about that Pearlie Watson was once more called to facethe large and cheering audience, while Father O'Flynn, with many kindwords, presented her with the W. C. T. U. oratorical prize.
Miss Morrison went home that night disturbed in spirit, wondering if,after all, there might not be something more in it than gestures,voice, memory, and articulation.