Sweetapple Cove

by George Van Schaick

  CHAPTER VI

  _From Miss Helen Jelliffe to Miss Jane Van Zandt_

  _Dearest Auntie_:

  During these long evenings there is absolutely nothing for me to doexcept to inflict long epistles upon you. Dear Daddy seems to be makingup for some of the lost sleep of his youth, and is apt to begin early theunmusical accompaniment to his slumbers.

  We are now able to dispense with the nice old mariner who watched him soeffectively the first night. Daddy said the competition was too great forhim to stand, and explained that he wanted a monopoly. You will bedelighted to hear that as far as we can tell the poor leg is doingnicely; at any rate the doctor seems to be pleased. I had no idea thatour patient would be so easily resigned to his fate. He is just as goodas good can be.

  To console you for reading about the hardships I must tell you that I hadone of the times of my life to-day. An ultimate analysis of it wouldreduce itself to a trip from a dirty shore, in a dirty boat, to a dirtyisland, at least that part of it that was not daily scrubbed by theAtlantic billows. Of course this may be somewhat exaggerated, but theplaces one departs from and arrives at are somewhat trying to sensitivenoses.

  That young doctor I spoke of is the responsible party, aided and abettedby Daddy. Between them they just bundled me away, under some sillypretense that I needed fresh air. It is possible, after all, that theymay have been right.

  We went down to the fish-houses and flakes that crop out like queermushrooms on stilts all over the edges of the cove, and it was a shakydamsel who shuddered over the passing of a wobbly plank. The crew of twowaited below in the boat, and smiled encouragingly, so that I had to tryand show more bravery than I really felt. I had no desire to intrudeamong the squids; one sees them dimly through the clear water and theyimpress one, as they move about, as resembling rather active rats. Thecod are more partial to them than I ever shall be. Then there was arather rickety ladder down which I scrambled. I am sure the crew hadnever seen silk stockings before, but their heads were politely turnedaway. A large, exuberantly whiskered Frenchman in picturesque rags gaveme his hand and helped me down with a manner worthy of assorted dukes andcounts; and there was a little boy who sat on a thwart and lookedwistfully at me.

  "De leetle bye, heem want go, if mademoiselle heem no mind," said theFrenchman, bashfully, with a very distinct look of appeal.

  The little fellow also sought my eyes, and held his ragged little cap inhis hands. He was simply the curliest darling, clad in a garment of manycolors made of strange remnants and sewed by hands doubtless acquaintedwith a sailor's palm but unfamiliar with ordinary stitching.

  Naturally I bent down and lifted him up and put him on my knees,recognizing in this infant the nicest discovery I have yet made on thisamazing island. His little pink face and golden curls imperativelydemanded a kiss. He is just the sweetest little fellow you ever saw, andlooks altogether out of place among the sturdy urchins of the Cove. ThenI had to put him down, because of course I had flopped down in the wrongplace. I notice that in small boats one always does. The child took hiscap off again and said "merci," and I had to smile at Yves, theFrenchman, whose grin distinctly showed that the way to his heart liesthrough that kiddy.

  We were off at once, and I sat astern near the ancient. Yves had goneforward and the doctor, after the usual totally unnecessary concern as torugs and either useless things, followed him and appeared to practice hisFrench on the sailor.

  "That there Frenchy," Captain Sammy confided to me, "is most crazy overth' young 'un. I never did see sich a thing in all me born days."

  "He must be awfully proud of such a dear little son," I answered.

  "There's them as says it ain't the son o' he," replied Sammy. "He don'tnever talk about the bye. They says he jist picked him up somewheres,jist some place or other. You would hardly think what a plenty they is ashave fathers or mothers neither, along th' coast."

  This opened to me a vista of troops of kiddies wandering up and down thecliffs, wailing the poor daddies that will never be given back by therough sea, and the mothers who found life harder than they could bear,and it saddened me. You always said I must beware of my imagination,but I think there was a funded reality in that vision. Then I wascompelled to look about me, for we were passing through headlands at thenarrow mouth of the cove, the long lift of the open sea bore us up anddown again, softly, like an easy low swing. That terrible reek of fishhad disappeared and the air was laden with the delightful pungency ofclean seaweed and the pure saltiness of the great waters. North and southof us extended the rocky coastline all frilled, at the foot of the greatledges, with the pearly spume of the long rollers.

  It was very early when we arrived in the _Snowbird_, and I was not ondeck very long. It didn't seem nearly so beautiful then, and I had noidea that it would be like this.

  "It is perfectly marvelous," I told Captain Sammy. "But it is a terriblecoast. How do you ever manage to get back in storms and fogs? The mouthof the cove is nothing but a tiny hole in the face of the cliffs."

  "Times when they is nought but fog maybe we smells 'un," he replied, withthe most solemn gravity.

  "I hadn't thought of such an obvious thing," I replied, laughing. "Itseems quite possible. But how about gales?"

  "They is times when we has to run to some o' the bays north or south ofus fer shelter," he answered. "I've allers been able to fetch 'un."

  "But what if you were carried out to sea?"

  "Then likely I'd git ketched, like so many others has, ma'am."

  And then, Aunt Jennie dear, in spite of the shining of the bright sunupon the glittering water and the softness of the air that was caressingmy face, I felt very sad for a moment. It looked like a very cruel worldfor all of its present smiling. On this coast the elements seem always tobe waiting for their prey, just as, in the shelter of ledges deep beneathour keel, unspeakable slimy things with wide glaucous eyes are lying inwatch, with tentacles outspread.

  "It all seems very dreadful to me," I said.

  But the old fellow, though he nodded civilly in assent, had notunderstood me in the least. This was clearly the only world withwhich he was acquainted; the one particular bit of earth whereuponfate had dropped him, as fertilizing seeds are dropped by wanderingbirds. I daresay he is unable to realize any other sort of existence,excepting perhaps in some such vague way as you and I may think ofthose canal-diggers of Mars. Close to us, to port, we passed a big rockthat was jutting from the water and over which the long smooth seaswashed, foaming with hissing sounds.

  "He nigh ketched us, day I fetched doctor back to yer father," Sammyinformed me. "Ye mind t'were a bit rough that day, and ye couldn't tellyer hand afore yer face, hardly, t'were that thick, and tide she'd drawedus furder inshore 'n I mistrusted. The wind he were middlin' high an'gusty, too. I don't mind many sich hard times a-makin' th' cove. We wassure glad enough ter get in."

  "I never thought of it in that way," I exclaimed. "It certainly was anawful afternoon, and it must have been horribly dangerous."

  "I telled 'un afore startin' as how t'were a bit of a job, an' he asks mekin I make it, an' I says I expect I kin, like enough, wid luck. Then hetells me ter think o' th' old woman an' th' children, an' I says it's allright. Frenchy he were willin' too, so in course we started."

  Then, perhaps for the first time, I took a real long look at that doctor,who was sitting forward, perched on the head of a barrel. He was laughingwith Frenchy, and held the boy on his lap. I decided that he belongs to aclass that is familiar to us. You know his kind, Aunt Jennie, keen ofeye, full of quiet determination, and always moving forcibly, even ifslowly, towards success. We have seen lots of them on the footballfields, at Corinthian yacht races, wherever big chaps are contending andcare but little for the safety of their necks as long as they are playingthe game.

  To me the strangest thing about this man is that he appears to bethoroughly adapted to these surroundings, and yet would be equally athome in what we choose to call our set, just like that dear woman Mrs.Barnett. I c
an't help wondering what he is doing here, I mean apart fromhis obvious work which, in all conscience, appears to be hard enough.

  He was pointing out something to the little boy, in the distance, so thatI stared also and caught a puff of vapor above the water.

  "It's a whale, isn't it?" I asked.

  "Yis, ma'am," replied Sammy. "It's one o' they big sulphur-bottoms. Themlittle whaling steamers is mighty glad to get hold o' that kind. Theygrows awful big. I've seed some shockin' big fellows."

  "I'd like to see one caught. It must be ever so exciting," I said.

  "There ain't no whalin' stations in these parts, but they tells me someof 'em 'll tow them little steamers miles and miles, even wid' enginehalf speed astern. Then other times they gits 'em killed first shot outo' the gun."

  After this I looked around again. I know you don't care for small boats,but it is delightful to be so close to the water, and it gives one asense of keen pleasure one often misses in bigger ships. They seem to beso much more alive.

  I must acknowledge that after a time I began to observe the doctor again.I presume it is a fault of our present education, Aunt Jennie, that weyoung girls are not much used to being neglected by young men. This onewas really paying little attention to me. Even when a man's daily garbincludes a flannel shirt one expects him to be attentive, if he is nice.Of course I don't suppose any one here knows how to starch and iron whiteshirts and collars, so that the doctor can't help his raiment, which isbetter adapted to the local fashions. You must not think that he seems tobe restrained by a sense of respectful deference especially due to thedaughter of one whom the silly papers are fond of referring to asbelonging to the tribe of magnates. His manners are perfectly civil andcourteous, showing that he has been accustomed to move among nice people.He took the trouble to ask whether I were comfortable, to suggest a rugwhich I declined and to ask if there was anything else he could do. Butafter that he went forward to practise his French on Yves, who frequentlygrinned with pleasure. Nor has he seemed to be particularly elated at theprivilege of attending a rich yacht owner, who may represent a decentfee. I know perfectly well that he takes a great deal more interest inthe fisherman we went to see.

  The island towards which we were sailing was rising from the sea, andSammy pointed it out to me, in the distance, faintly azure in the slighthaze. We were sailing with a fair wind, our little sails drawing steadilyand the forefoot casting spray before it in pearly showers.

  "Won't you let me take her?" I asked.

  Sammy opened astonished eyes and doubtfully relinquished the tiller tome. Isn't it queer how people of our sort are always deemed to be quitehelpless with their hands? I may boast of the fact that the ancientmariner was soon satisfied that his craft was in fairly competent ones. Ihad to use just a little more strength than I had expected to, and tostand and brace myself against the pull. But it was glorious and made mefeel to its full extent the delight of the sea. In a moment I felt thatmy cheeks were red enough to satisfy Daddy himself, who is always astrenuous advocate of robustious femininity. He has no use for thewilted-flower effect in girls. My locks, of course, were disportingthemselves as they pleased, and I am sure that I began there and then tostrew the bottom of our ship with hairpins.

  Then I got the one great genuine compliment of my youthful existence.

  "_La belle dame qui gouverne_!" exclaimed Yves' little boy.

  Of course the other two turned at once to behold the beautiful lady whowas governing, as the Gallic language calls steering. I shall give thatinfant a supply of chocolate which will make his big blue eyes openwidely. Such a talent for discrimination should be encouraged. That pardof a Frenchman was smiling in approval, and the doctor was evidentlytaking notice. When a girl wears a white jersey and blue skirt, and shehas a picturesque cap, and is engaged in the occupation of steering,which brings out many of one's best points, she has a right to expect alittle admiration. It worked and presently the doctor was sitting at myside, which goes to show that he is but a weak male human after all.

  "They are splendid little boats, are they not?" he said.

  "Yes, indeed. The rig reminds me of some of the sharpies they use on theConnecticut coast. But these are regular sea-going craft, and must beatup to windward nicely."

  "You are quite a sailor," was his obviously indicated remark.

  "I've done a good deal of small-boat sailing on the Sound," I informedhim, "out of Larchmont and those places, and in Great South Bay. Isuppose I've been a good deal of a tomboy."

  "You've been a fine, strong, healthy girl, and you still are," hereplied, quietly.

  It was only such approval as Harry Lawrence, for instance, might havebestowed on a blue-ribbon pointer. The man considers me as a rather nicespecimen and, with all due modesty, I am inclined to agree with him.

  By this time we were rapidly nearing the island. As far as I could see itwas nothing but a rough mass of rocks better suited to the tenancy ofsea-gulls than human beings. Everywhere the waves were breaking at thefoot of the cliffs and monstrous boulders. A great host of sea-birds wasrising from it and returning; in the waters near us the dear littlepetrels dotted the surface with black points, while slow-flying gannetstraveled sedately and active terns rioted in the air. Coots and othersea-ducks rose before our boat and, from time to time, the little roundheads of harbor seals, with very human-looking eyes, bobbed on the seas.

  "Isn't it perfectly delightful," I cried. "I could never weary ofwatching all these things, and what is that big duck, or is it a goose,traveling all alone and flying straight as an arrow?"

  "It is just a big loon. The Great Northern Diver, you know."

  "I don't think I ever saw them flying. I shall always recognize oneagain. They are regular double-enders, pointed at both ends. Is it thesame sort of loon that we see on the Maine and Adirondack lakes?"

  "The very same," he replied. "I dare say you are well acquainted with itsvoice."

  "Indeed I am; it used to give me goose-flesh when I first heard it, everso long ago. It's a dreadfully shivery sound."

  The man smiled, as if he thought this a pretty fair description.

  "It is rather spooky," he admitted, "but I love it as a typical sound ofthe wilderness. It is just redolent with memories of the scented smoke ofcamp-fires, of game-tracked swamps and big forests mirrored in deep, calmwaters all aglow with the lights of the setting sun."

  This interested me. It is evident that this doctor is not simply a fairlywell educated dispenser of pills and a wielder of horrid instruments.There is some tincture of sentiment in his make-up.

  "How do you enjoy the practice of your profession in Sweetapple Cove?" Isuddenly asked him, rather irrelevantly.

  "I have an idea that it is a sort of practice for which I am fairly wellfitted," he answered, slowly, and still looking at the birds. "A fellowcan never be sure that he would make a success in the larger places. Hereyou will admit that the critical sense of the population must be easilysatisfied. I have no reason to doubt that I am at least the half a loafthat is better than no bread."

  Of course I could only smile. He had said a lot, very pleasantly, withoutgiving me the slightest bit of information. To-morrow I intend to go andhave a chat with Mrs. Barnett and pump her dry. I notice that I am rathera curious young person.

  "Jist keep her off a bit now," advised Sammy. "They is a big tide settin'in."

  A slight pressure on the tiller was enough, and Yves loosened the sheetsjust a little. On our port side we could see the cliffs, dark and rathermenacing, which as yet failed to show the slightest indenture withinwhich a boat might lie.

  "I think I will give you the tiller now," I told Sammy.

  "If you'll not be minding," he answered.

  I am discovering that these people have an inborn sense of courtesy.Their broad accent, which is a mixture of Scotch and Irish and otherNorth British sounds, is rather a pleasant one. It was quite evident thatI was to suit myself in the matter of steering the boat. If I objected torelinquishing the tiller o
wing to a preference for running up on therocks I was entirely welcome, as far as I could judge from Sammy's words.I am beginning to love the old man.

  He took the helm and I swung my arms against my sides, for my musclesfelt just a little bit sore.

  "I'd like to do this often," I informed him. "It is fine for one's arms."

  "It's sure fine fer the pretty face of yer," he asserted, rather timidly."The color on it an' the shinin' in yer eyes is real good to see."

  "You are very complimentary," I laughed.

  Then the old man looked at me, quite soberly, and I could see that amisgiving had made its way in his dear old soul.

  "I mistrust I doesn't jist know what that means," he said, ratherworried. "Ef it's anythin' bad I'm a-beggin' yer pardon."

  "You are a perfect dear, Captain Sammy," I told him. "Indeed it meanssomething very nice."

  Profound relief appeared upon his countenance. I am discovering that inSweetapple Cove one must limit one's vocabulary. The old man wouldprobably not appreciate chocolates, but he deserves them.

  We were dashing on, at a safe distance from the rocks, and suddenly therewas an opening in the cliffs, with a tiny bay within. Yves pulled in thesheets a little and we sailed into the deep, clear water of the tinycove.

  There was a small beach of rolling shingle and, beyond this, clinginglike barnacles to the rocky hillside, were a couple of decrepit houses.Some big flakes and a fish-house were built over the water, on spiderylegs. A few children, very stolid of face and unkempt, watched ourarrival and stared at me. A man, in half-bared arms dotted about thewrists with remnants of what they call gurry-sores, stood at the water'sedge, waiting to lend a hand. There appears to be no anchorage in thisdeep hole. The sails were quickly wrapped around the masts and ourforefoot gently grated against the pebbles. Then all the men jumped outand dragged the boat up, using some rollers.

  "She'll do now," announced Sammy. "Tide's on the ebb, anyways."

  There was no lack of hands to help me jump out on the little beach.Frenchy's small boy had clambered out like a monkey and, like myself, wasan object of silent curiosity to the local urchins. The scent of fishprevailed, of course, but it was less pronounced than at Sweetapple Cove,very probably for the unfortunate reason that very few fish had beencaught, of late. Indeed, it was a fine drying day and yet the poor flakeswere nearly bare.

  "Bring up the barrel, Sammy," said the doctor. "I'm going up to thehouse. I don't think I'll keep you waiting very long, Miss Jelliffe."

  He hastened up, scrambling up the rocky path, and entered the house. Ifollowed him, perhaps rather indiscreetly. This queer atmosphere ofpoverty had affected me, I think, and I suddenly became eager to seewhether I could not be of some help.

  A woman had met him at the door, with an effort at a smile upon her thin,seamed face, that was pale with scanty food and haggard from longwatching at night.

  "Un do be sayin' as th' arm be better a lot," she informed him. Then shestared at me, just for a moment, and smiled again.

  "That's fine," said the doctor. "We'll have another look at it directly.You can come in if you wish to, Miss Jelliffe."

  There was nothing but just one fairly large room. The patient was lyingon a bed built of planks and his right arm was resting on a pillow,wrapped up in an enormous dressing.

  "You sure is a sight fer sore eyes ter see," said the man.

  "I hope I'm one for sore arms too," said the doctor, cheerfully. Then heturned to me.

  "It would perhaps be best for you to leave for a few minutes, MissJelliffe," he said. "It won't take long."

  But I didn't feel that I could leave, and he began to cut throughbandages and dressings. Oh! Aunt Jennie dear! I didn't realize thatpeople could have such dreadful things the matter with them. It made mejust a little faint to look at it, and I had to turn away. There was buta slight injury at first, I was told, and it had become awful for lack ofproper treatment and care. Dr. Grant, I was also informed by old Sammy,was confronted at first with the horrible problem of either taking fairchances for the man's life by an amputation which would have meantstarvation for the family, or of assuming the risk of trying to save thatarm upon which the woman and her little ones were depending. Such thingsmust surely try a man's soul, Aunt Jennie. The doctor told me that he hadgone out of the house and sat on a rock, to think it over, and had lookedat the flakes with their pitiful showing. The kiddies were ravenous andthe wife exhausted with care. Then he had stared at the other old house,now abandoned by a family that had been unable to keep body and soultogether in the place.

  And so he had been compelled to decide upon this great gamble and spentthree nights and days in watching, in a ceaseless struggle to save thatarm, using every possible means of winning his fight, knowing that thepenalty of failure was death. It was no wonder that he looked happy nowthat he knew he had won.

  I suppose that such things happen often, Auntie dear, but we have neverseen things like these, and they make an awfully strong impression.

  Dr. Grant was working away, looking well pleased, and I handed him a fewthings he needed.

  "That's fine!" he declared, after he had completed a fresh dressing. "Youare well enough now to come back with me to the Cove, Dick, because thatarm must be attended to every day and I can't come here so often. Youwill be able to stand the trip all right and I'll send you back as soonas you are well."

  "I sure kin stand anythin' so long as yer says I kin," answered the man.His eyes were full of a confidence one usually sees only in happychildren.

  For a few minutes the wife had gone out of the house, and she returned,breathlessly.

  "They is all laughin' down ter th' beach," she announced. "They isFrenchy's little bye, all wid' yeller curls, a-playin' wid our laddies,and Sammy Moore he've brung a barrel o' flour, and a box wid pork, andthey is more tea and sugar. What d' yer think o' that?"

  She was much excited, and looked from her husband to us, nervously, as iffearing to awaken from a dream.

  "That ere trader he said I couldn't have no more, afore I sent him a fewquintals o' fish," said Dick, "I don't see how it come."

  "You had to have it," said the doctor, just a little bit gruffly. "Youcan pay me back after you get to work again."

  The woman grabbed his arm, and made him wince, and then she returned tothe beach again and brought back the box.

  "Beggin' yer pardon, ma'am," she said. "Jist set down still fer a minnit.I kin bile th' kittle now an' you'll be havin' a dish o' tea."

  "Thank you ever so much," I answered, as pleasantly as I could. "I don'twant to give you so much trouble, and we are going back at once."

  The woman looked sorely disappointed.

  "It's awful good tea," she pleaded. "Th' kind as comes in yellerpackages, and they is sugar too."

  I turned to Dr. Grant. A nearly imperceptible smile and nod from himshowed me that I had better accept. It was evident that the poor creaturecould not understand how any one could refuse tea, the only luxury of herhard life.

  "I'll change my mind, if you will let me," I said. "I really think Iwould enjoy it very much."

  Then she smiled again, and went up to the little stove, and I followedher. Dr. Grant had gone out for a moment.

  "Doctor un' says Dick goes back wid' un," she said. "He be th' best manin the whole world, ma'am. Says he'll take pay when fishing gets better.I mistrust he'll be waitin' a long spell. It must be most twelve dollars,all the things he've brung."

  For a moment the prospect of this huge debt sobered her, and a tear randown her cheek.

  "And what about the doctor's pay?" I asked.

  "I doesn't know," she answered, helplessly. "It's sure a turrible world."

  From this I judge that the financial returns of Dr. Grant's practice mustbe more than meager. If I had had any money with me I would have given itto this poor creature, but I had no pockets and had never thought of theneed of a vanity bag and purse for a visit to Will's Island.

  The woman looked out of the door, and saw that t
he doctor had gone downto the beach and was talking to the men, apparently engaged in makingsome arrangement at the bottom of the boat whereon to lay his patient.

  "I doesn't know what we'll do," she said again, hurriedly. "But therenever was a good man the like o' he. You ain't got a man yet, has you,ma'am?"

  "No, I'm a spinster yet," I declared, smiling.

  "He's sure the best ever was. Mebbe he might go to courtin' you, ma'am,and what a happy woman ye'd be."

  I don't think I blushed, Aunt Jennie, or showed any particularembarrassment. I think I simply recognized a tribute of adorationrendered by the poor soul to one who, in her weary, red eyes, deservednothing less than worship.

  "I am quite sure he is a splendid man," I answered, quietly. "He isalso taking care of my father, who broke his leg on the rocks, whilesalmon-fishing."

  "Oh! I knows yer now," said Mrs. Will. "Sammy he told us how you come inthat white steam schooner, wi' brass shinin' all over."

  "Yes," I replied.

  She began to stare at me, much interested.

  "Sich a bonnie lass ye be! I wisht he'd take a fancy ter ye!" sheexclaimed. "Ye'd sure never find a better man nowheres an' ye look asgood as he do. I mistrust ye'd make an awful fine woman fer he."

  I could only smile again. Fancy my meeting with matchmakers in this rockydesert. The poor thing meant well, of course, and I could make no furtheranswer, for Dr. Grant was returning. He packed all his things away in hisbag, and I went over to the fisherman's bed.

  "I am so glad that you are getting along so much better," I told him.

  "Thank yer kindly, ma'am," he answered. "I'se sure a whole lot better an'now we has grub too."

  You know how sweet the fields are after a storm, Aunt Jennie. Here italso looked as if some dreadful black cloud had lifted, so that the sunshone down again on this desolate place and made it beautiful to the sickman.

  Then I had to swallow some strong tea, without milk, which I abhor. Itrust I managed it with fortitude. The doctor also had to submit.

  "The day is fast approaching when I shall perish from an aggravated caseof tea-poisoning," he confided to me. "Everywhere, under penalty ofseeing long faces, I am compelled to swallow it in large doses. I lieawake nights seeking vainly for some sort of excuse that will be acceptedwithout breaking hearts."

  "I hope that when you feel the symptoms coming you will hasten back tothe security of civilization," I told him.

  "Even that is open to question," he answered.

  And so we brought the poor man home, Aunt Jennie, and I'm beginning tofeel dreadfully sleepy, so I'll say _au revoir_.