CHAPTER IX
MRS. PERKINS'S TURN
Tell you what I like the best Long about knee-deep in June ... Some afternoon Just to git out and rest And not work at nothing else.
_----James Whitcomb Riley._
OUT in the poplar grove behind the house, on a fine, sunshinySaturday, afternoon, Pearl Watson and Billy were busy making ahammock under Aunt Kate's directions. They had found an old barrel inthe scrub, and Aunt Kate was showing them how, with the staves, theycould make the loveliest hammock by boring two auger holes in eachend and running ropes thro' the holes.
When the hammock was completed and swung between two big trees, Pearlran into the house for her mother.
"Ma," she said, "we've made this hammock mostly for you, and you'reto get in first." She took a quilt and pillow off one of the beds andbrought her mother out to the hammock, which was now held down by thefour youngest boys. By a quick movement Pearl spilled them out on thegrass and, spreading the quilt on the staves, soon made her mothercomfortable.
"Now, Ma, here's where you're to come every after-noon," she said."Aunt Kate'll see that you do it when I'm not here to watch you; but,anyway, I know I can trust you. Look up to the clouds and listen tothe birds and think of the nicest things you ever heard, and forgetthat there ever comes holes in the little lads' pants, and forgetthat you ever had to wash for other people, and just remember we've afarm of our own and the crops' growin', and so is the garden just asfast as if you was up watchin' it."
Aunt Kate, standing by, looked in wonder at her little niece.
"Faith, Pearlie, you have quare ways," she said. "Ye're as much likeyer Uncle Bill as if ye belonged to him. He'd have taken greatcomfort out of you and yer quare speeches if he was here, porefellow."
"He's in a better place, Katie, dear," said Mrs. Watson piously.
After a pause, Pearl said: "You see, Ma, a person has to get soakedfull of sunshine and contented feelings to be able to stand things.You've just got to lay in a stock of them, like a squirrel does thenuts for the winter, and then when trouble comes you can go back andthink over all the good times you've had, and that'll carry ye overtill the trouble passes by. Every night here there'll be a lovelysunset, all blue and gold, like the streets of heaven. That ought tohelp some, and now the leaves are comin' and new flowers every daynearly, and the roses'll be here in June, and the cherry blossomswill be smellin' up the place before that, and at night ye'll hearthe wild ducks whizzin' by up in the air. They'll all keep usheartened up more'n we need just now, but we better be settin' itaway to use when we need it."
"Look! Who's yon?" Aunt Kate asked, looking down the road.
A quaint-looking, stout old lady was walking toward them.
"That'll be Mrs. Perkins comin' to see us," Mrs. Watson said, inalarm. "Let me out o' this, Pearlie. It's a lazy trollop she'll thinkI am if she ketches me lyin' here."
"Lie where you are, Ma," Pearl said firmly. "It'll do her good to seesome one restin' easy. I know her, Ma, she's Martha's mother, andthey're great workers."
When Mrs. Perkins arrived, Pearl went forward and introduced her toher mother and Aunt Kate, with due ceremony.
Mrs. Perkins was a short, stout woman, whose plump figure was muchlike the old-fashioned churn, so guiltless was it of modern formimprovers. Mrs. Perkins's eyes were gray and restless, her hair wasthe colour of dust, and it was combed straight back and rolled at theback of her neck in a little knob about the size and shape of ahickory nut. She was dressed in a clean print dress, of that good oldcolour called lilac. It had little white daisies on a striped groundand was of that peculiar shade that people call "clean looking." Itwas made in a plain "bask" with buttons down the front, and a plain,full skirt, over which she wore a white, starched apron, with a rowof insertion and a flounce of crocheted lace.
Pearl brought out chairs.
"Well, now, you do look comfortable,"' said Mrs. Perkins, with just ashadow of reproach in her voice that did not escape Pearlie. "It mustbe nice to have nothin' to do but just laze around."
"She's done a big day's work already," Pearl said, quickly. "Sheworked all her life raisin' us, and now she's goin' to take a restonce in a while: and watch us rustle."
"Well, upon my word, you can talk some, can't you?" Mrs. Perkinssaid, not altogether admiringly. Aunt Kate gallantly interposed onPearl's behalf by telling what a fine help the was to her mother, andsoon the conversation drifted into an amiable discussion of whetheror not peas should be soaked before they are planted.
Then Pearl and Mary went into the house and prepared the best mealthat the family supply of provisions permitted. They boiled eggshard, and spiced them the way Pearl had seen Camilla do. Pearl slicedup some of Aunt Kate's home-made bread as thin as she could, andbuttered it; she brought out, from the packing box that they werestill in, one of the few jars of peaches, and then made the tea. Sheand Mary covered the table with a clean white flour-sack; they filleda glass jar with ferns and anemones for a centre-piece and set thetable as daintily as they could, even putting a flower beside eachpate.
"Land alive!" Mrs. Perkins exclaimed, when they carried the table outunder the trees, where she sat with Aunt Kate and Mrs. Watson. "Ihaven't et outside since we used to have the picnics in Millford inold Major Rogers's time. I mind the last one we had. I seen old Mrs.Gilbert just fillin' the stuff into her basket, and I do believe shetuk more home than she brought, though I ain't the one to say it,because I do not like to talk against a neighbour, though there aresome as say it right out, and don't even put a tooth on it."
"Don't you go to the Pioneers picnics, now?" Pearl asked, as shepoured the tea.
"No; I haven't gone since Mrs. Burrell came. I don't like her. Sheisn't what I think a minister's wife ought to be, mind you; she saidan awful queer thing at our place the very first time she was there.She was askin' me why we didn't get out to church, and I was tellin'her about all the chores we had to do, milkin' and feedin' the stock,and that, and she didn't say much, but when she got down to praybefore she left, she started off all right, and I wasn't reallynoticin' what she was sayin' until I hears her say: 'Lord, take awaythe cows and the pigs and the hens from these people, if it is thepigs and the cows and hens that's keepin' them from attendin' church,for it is better for them to do without milk or butter or eggs alltheir lives than to be eternally lost.' Them was just her words.Well, it just about made me faint to think of losin' all that, and Isays: 'Take that back, and we'll go'; I was so flustered. And now,some of us has been drivin' down once a day; but, mind you, I don'tfeel real easy when I'm near her. The idea of her plottin' harmagainst innocent critturs that never done her any harm!"
Pearl said to Mary when they went back into the kitchen, "Mary, thatwoman hasn't got the right idea of things. It don't do you a bit ofgood to eat outside if you're thinkin' hard of anybody. It'll takea queer old lot of blue sky and fresh air and singin' birds andcherry-blossoms to soak all that out of her; but of course it'llhelp some."
Mrs. Perkins stirred her tea with pleasure. She found it a realdelight to have good listeners who did not interrupt her. All herlife she had had to tell her stories against a counter-attraction,that is, if her husband was present, for he was always telling one ofhis own at the same time, and that sort of thing wears on thestoutest nerves.
"You'll soon have a real nice place here, Mrs. Watson," she said,looking around. "Poor Mrs. Cavers would have had things nice if shehad had her own way. She was the greatest woman for makin' littlefixin's--she and my Martha were always doin' something--dear me, theway she'd stick up for that man, and make excuses for him! 'Mr.Cavers has a headache,' or 'Mr. Cavers is quite tired out.' Mr.Cavers, mind you. Oh, I tell you, she was fetched up different. Anyone could see that. When I saw her first she was as pretty a girl asyou'd see, and Bill was a fine-lookin' man, too. We never knew hewould drink, and I don't think he ever did until Sandy Braden got hislicense and opened up a bar. I'll never forget the first night hecame home drunk. She came runnin' over to our house an
d told us shewas afraid he was dyin'. Pa and I went over with her, and I told herright out, plump and plain, what was wrong with him just as soon as Isaw him. I'll never forget the way she backed up from me, givin'queer little screeches, and then she came back quick, her eyesjust blazin', and says she, grabbin' me by the shoulders, 'Idon't--believe--it,' just as slow as that, and then she begged me toforgive her, the pore lamb, and straightened right up as stiff as apoker, but all white and twitchy, and from that day to this she hasnever let on to a livin' soul about him drinkin', but she's just asnice to him as if he was a good man to her."
Pearl listened to this story with sympathetic interest. She had knownthis all the time--the beads on the cretonne had told the story.
"And when her little Georgie died, if ever a woman was tried sore itwas her. She sent Bill for the doctor, and he fell in with athreshin' gang and forgot to come home; yes, and that poor woman wasalone with little George choking with croup. Libby Anne ran over forme, but he was too far gone. Bill came home in the mornin' so drunkwe couldn't make him understand that the child was dead, and he keptaskin' us all the time how little Georgie was now. I came home in themornin' to help to milk, and Martha went over to stay with her.Martha can't ever forget the sad sight she saw when she went in. Billwas on the lounge drunk. Little George lay on the bed dead, and shewas sittin' there makin' the shroud, and even then she made excusesfor Bill to Martha, and said he'd been up all night, and was tired."
When Pearl went back into the kitchen she reported progress to Mary.
"She's talkin' kinder now, Mary. The fresh air and the wind throughthe trees is beginnin' to tell on her. Give me another cup of tea forher."
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