CHAPTER SEVEN THE BLESSING UNDISGUISED
The two girls ran out to meet their most welcome guest, the new teacher.Ken, who for the moment had stepped behind the massive trunk of one ofthe great old pine trees to hide, then appeared, and Carol gave a shoutas she said: "Why, Ken Martin, if you haven't got a little pig! Oh-o,don't let it get away. I'm terribly scared of pigs."
No one, looking at the shining, freckled face of the boy, would havedreamed that only an hour before that same face had been the picture ofmisery.
"It's that blessing in disguise, Dix," Ken said, as he triumphantly heldup a rather skinny and very young member of the porcine family.
"Why, Kentucky Martin, wherever did you get that pig?" the older sisterinquired. "I didn't know you had one penny left after you'd bought yourhigh-topped boots."
"I didn't buy him, Dix," Ken declared. "I had him given to me."
Here was indeed an astonishing statement, for pigs were valuable. Thisone, though, was an unusually skinny-looking specimen. The boy,believing that he had sufficiently aroused the curiosity of the girls,went on to inform them:
"Well, as I was going up toward the inn I heard an awful squealing overin Ira Jenkins's pen, and I ran to see what was the matter. Seems thattheir old sow had always disliked this little pig, and wouldn't let itnurse with the others, and so Mrs. Jenkins had been keeping it in thehouse behind the stove; but the blacksmith tripped over it this morning,and he said it would have to go back in the pen where it belonged, evenif the mother-sow ate it up, bones and all. Ira had just put it in thepen when I came along, but the old sow had made for it and in anothermoment the little pig would have been dead, certain-sure. Ira justleaned over the fence doing nothing, and I said, 'Aren't you going tosave that little pig's life?' And he answered: 'No. What's the use? Itcan't live in our house, and it seems like it can't live in its own, soit might as well be dead.' Then he grinned and said, like he thought Iwouldn't dare, 'If you can save that little pig, you can have it.'"
Dixie's eyes were wide. "Ken Martin, I hope you didn't get right intothat pen where an angry old sow was. Don't you know they will turn on aboy just as quick as anything?"
Ken nodded, and then looked down at his overalls that plainly showedthat he had not escaped without a muddying.
"Yes, I know," he said, "but I took a chance, and I'm glad I did, fornow we own a pig. I've always wanted one, and, oh, Dix, I'm almost gladwe didn't sell the apples." Then, as he held the squealing littlecreature up to be admired, the boy added, "I've named him already."
Carol sniffed. "I shouldn't think a pig would need a name," she said.
Ken chuckled. "I've named him 'Blessing,' and now if you'll excuse me,Miss Bayley, I'll go and build him a place to live. Carol, will you comealong and hold him while I'm putting up a fence for his pen?"
"Me, hold him? I should say not!" and the dainty little girl held backher skirts as though the very thought of touching the creature wascontaminating.
"Maybe I can help," Miss Bayley surprised them all by announcing. "Inever _did_ hold a pig,--we don't have very many of them in NewYork,--but there's always a first time for everything."
The boy's eyes plainly showed his admiration, and down toward the barnthese two went, while the girls returned to the house to put thefinishing touches on the lunch. Half an hour later Carol called from thedoor, and a returning shout from Ken carried the message, "Come on down,first, and see the pen."
Hand in hand Carol and Dixie darted down the path, and how they laughedwhen they looked over into the very small yard that Ken had fenced off.Too, there was a large box, open at one side, with fresh straw on thebottom, that would make a fine bed.
The skinny little pig looked up, almost fearfully, at the four laughingfaces that were peering over the top rail at him. "After lunch let's getsome apples and feed him," Carol suggested.
Suddenly Dixie thought of something. "Why, Ken Martin, we can't feedyour little pig apples yet; he's still taking milk."
"That's so," said the boy, snapping his fingers. Then he added: "I say,Dix, couldn't you find the bottle Jimmy-Boy used to have? I can feed himwith that, like as not."
"I believe I know just where it is," the little mother said, "but comenow or the apple pudding will be done too much." And so, promising thesmall pig that he would soon return, Ken leaped the fence and they allwent up to the cabin.
A merry lunch it was, and the apple pudding was done to a turn. Indeed,never before had the old stove baked so well, and it seemed to shinewith pride. Miss Bayley declared, and she meant it, too, that she couldnot remember when she had so enjoyed being guest at a luncheon party,and when, at last, she announced that she must go, as there was a letterto be written before the stage came, they all trooped with her to thetop of the canyon road.
When they were home again, Dixie declared: "There now, Ken, you saidthis morning that you couldn't think of anything to celebrate about, andjust see what a wonderful day we've had. It's always that way, I dobelieve. When a person feels gloomy, if he'd just up and prepare tocelebrate, even if there's nothing to celebrate about, something willturn up, certain-sure."
"You're right, Dix. You always are," her brother declared warmly. "Twothings turned up, the pig and Miss Bayley."
But a harder problem to solve than that of a poor apple-crop was justahead of brave little Dixie.
Dixie Martin, the Girl of Woodford's Cañon Page 8