CHAPTER VIII
THE NEW COMPANION
Miss Schuyler was a very active, industrious lady, and her time wasfully occupied. She had her house and grounds to attend to, her businessaffairs, her domestic duties, and her poor people--for paradise orfairy-land, whichever Phil chose to call his present abode, was notwithout its poor--and so, during the day, Lisa was mostly with Phil; buthe and Miss Rachel had always a pleasant chat after breakfast; and inthe evening many a long talk made known to Miss Rachel more of Phil'scharacter than he had any idea of; and the more she knew of the boy, thewarmer her heart became towards him, and the more thankful she was thatshe had been able to do for him just what was wanted, and just at theright time.
Already there was a little color in his pale cheeks, and an eagernessfor his meals. He could endure more fatigue, and he suffered less pain.Indeed, Dr. Smith, who lived half a mile off, had promised to send hisson, a lad of twelve, down to see Phil in his stead. "For," said he,"Graham does not know one bone from another, and will soon help Phil toforget all about his, or whether they ache or not."
And so Graham Smith, a ruddy-cheeked fellow, full of life and spirit,came to see Phil.
It was a warm June day when they first saw each other.
Phil was sketching, and Lisa was sitting beside him sewing. Joe wasPhil's model, standing patiently by the hour to be made into studies ofheads, arms, trunk, or the whole man.
Suddenly there was a loud bark of welcome from Nep, the Newfoundlanddog--who greeted tramps with growls--and Graham Smith came up the gardenpath, followed by Nep, leaping frantically upon and about him.
He nodded in a brusque way to Lisa and Phil, and without a word bentdown over the sketch, gave a long, low whistle, and said, "Isn't thatbully?"
"If I knew what bully meant, I could answer you, perhaps," repliedPhil, gazing up with admiration at the brown and red cheeks, the clearblue eyes, and the tough, hardy-looking frame of his new acquaintance.
"I'm not sure I can tell you; only you can beat all the boys I know atthis sort of work," said Graham. "Where did you learn how to do it?"
"Oh, I have not learned yet; I am only just beginning."
"Haven't you had any lessons?"
"No; it comes naturally to me to draw. I wish I could do it better,that's all," said Phil, with a little sigh.
"I wouldn't want to do any better than that," said Graham.
"Oh yes, you would," replied Phil, very much pleased, however, with suchheartfelt admiration of his drawing.
Just then Nep made another leap upon Graham, and the two, after afriendly tussle, had a race down to the lake, where Graham tossed astick, and sent the dog after it.
"That is something _I_ cannot do," said Phil, as the boy came up to himagain; "and yet you do it as easily as I draw."
"What--shy that stick off on the water? Then you don't play ball?"
"I don't even walk," said Phil.
Graham seemed both astonished and sorry, so he turned it off with, "Butyou are going to, you know, when you get well--and you can do more thanany of us now. Let's go out on the water. May we?" he asked, turning toLisa.
"Oh yes," said Lisa; and Joe was glad to get the _Flyaway_ ready for astart.
Phil was placed in the stern, where Graham promised to show him how tosteer. Phil was an apt scholar, and delighted to be of use. Joeaddressed Graham as "Captain," and complimented him on the finefeathering of his oar. The lad was a good oarsman, and made the boatrespond to her name.
"Where shall we go, mate?" asked Graham of Phil.
"The Captain must give orders," was Phil's reply.
"Have you been down to Point of Rocks?" asked Graham, directing Phil'seyes to a distant promontory.
"No, I have not been so far yet."
"There are lots of water-lilies there."
"Oh, do go there, then! I want some to copy."
"All right. Pull on your starboard oar, Joe; there, that will do. Now wewill soon reach it."
It was a lovely little nook where grew the lilies, after they had turnedaround the jutting stones which gave a name to the spot, and Phil soonhad his hands full of fragrant buds. The water was so clear that hecould see their long green stems away down to the black mud from whichthey sprang. They moored the boat, and Graham got out to ramble,returning with ferns and mosses and wild-flowers for Phil.
"Now," said he, "if you don't mind, I'm going to have a swim just aroundthe rocks here where the water is deeper and not so full of weeds. Iwish you could come."
"So do I," said Phil, watching with admiration every movement of hislively companion. Besides admiration, too, there was a twinge of envy,which he really did not know to be that hateful fault; but it passed ina moment, and he laughed loudly to see Graham's antics in the water.
The bath over, they turned homeward. Miss Rachel was entertaining guestsin the parlor. Lisa had gone off for a walk. Graham had to go home, butpromised frequent visits; and as Phil was tired, Joe carried him up andlaid him on his bed, putting his mosses on the table, and thewater-lilies in an oblong vase which was usually filled with fragrantflowers. The wind harp was there, too, and as Phil, with closed eyes,was resting in the half-twilight made by shut blinds, there came from ita little murmur, which grew into a long, sad monotone. He dared notmove, and would not speak, but between his eyelids, partly raised, hethought he saw the familiar little winged creature who had comforted andentertained him in his wretched city home.
"How little people know what they are doing when they pull up ferns andmosses in the woods!" said the soft voice. "I was sleeping soundly onthe nicest bed imaginable, having travelled far for just a whiff ofwater-lily odor that I thought might refresh a poor little hospitalpatient tossing with fever in the city, when with a violent wrench Ifound myself borne off from my sheltered and dusky resting-place, andtossed into a boat in the blinding glare of the sun. Fortunately, I hadwrapped myself in some broad grape-vine leaves, and was mistaken for amoth cocoon; else, dear Phil, I had not been here."
"I am so glad, so very glad, to see you again!" murmured Phil, softly.
"And I am so glad you are in the country! You could not have lived longin the city. What are you doing now?"
"Getting well, they tell me."
"Do you ever think of the ones who cannot do that?"
"No, I do not," said Phil, in some surprise.
"Ah, there are so many. I see them often--little creatures who arefriendless and helpless. You should not forget them."
"It is not that I forget, I do not think of them at all. I suppose Iwould if I saw them."
"Well, you must think of them, and do something for them. Oh yes, I knowyou do not believe you can, but the way will come if you try. All that Ido is to whisper soft songs in their ears, or give them a little waft ofsummer freshness, but it sometimes stops their painful tossing, andbrings sleep to their tired eyes."
"I will think; I will try," said Phil.
"That is right," replied the fairy. "Now I will call some of my friends,the flower fairies, hidden in these water-lilies, and you shall see themdance." She clapped her hands softly together, and out of each lilycrept a tiny shape of radiant whiteness and lily-like grace, so pure, soexquisite, that they did indeed seem to be the very essence and spiritof the flower. And now began another of those fantastic movements whichPhil had before witnessed. Now in wreaths, now apart, and again incouples, they swayed about in an ecstasy of mirth, and the wind harpgave out strains of wild and melodious sound. They nodded to each otherin their glee, and Phil could hardly tell whether they really werefairies or flowers, for they looked just as the flowers might when blownabout in a breeze. As he gazed, his eyelids began to droop. He was verytired. The music grew fainter and fainter. He seemed to be again in theboat, listening to the water lapping its sides, and Graham seemed to bewith him, reaching out for lilies; and then all faded, and Phil was fastasleep.