by Unknown
He tucked his napkin under his chin. When pa had returned thanks, he began to eat. "You're a good cook, Maryanne," he said to ma. "Learned that from your ma, no doubt."
He looked across the table at me. "You watch and listen to your ma, and you'll be a good cook, too. Mebbe I'll come and eat with you one day." He chuckled and turned his full attention to his supper.
I questioned ma later when we did the dishes. "One minute Grandpa Hobbs thinks you're Myra, and then later he knows who you are. How can he forget so soon?"
His mind goes back and forth between now and years ago," ma replied. "Sometimes when people get old, they become confused about time. Often they can remember things that happened in the past better than what happens today. If he calls me Myra, or calls pa Ed, don't worry about it. As long as he stays well and happy, it doesn't matter which year he's living in."
The days went by, and grandpa seemed settled in and happy. Part of the time he knew he was visiting the O'Dells. Other times he thought he was at home, or even back in Canada. He could remember good stories, and many evenings he entertained us with tales of the early days before he came to Michigan.
"Grandpa Hobbs," Roy said one evening. "Did you see a lot of wild animals when you were young?"
"Yes, indeed," grandpa replied. "Lots that you don't see hereabouts. Caribou, and wolves, big brown bears and a few black ones. Now that's a critter you want to stay away from. Especially them as has cubs. You heard anyone ever say 'mean as a bear with a sore paw'?"
We nodded.
"That's not mean at all, compared to a bear with cubs," grandpa declared. "That old she-bear will attack anything in sight to protect her family. You just steer a wide path around her when you see her next time, you hear?"
"We're not likely to see any, grandpa. There aren't any black bears in our woods anymore," Reuben told him. "Pa says he hasn't seen one for years."
"I saw one yesterday when I was following the river up north of here," grandpa said. "I went right on by and let her be."
We knew that grandpa hadn't left the house yesterday, but we didn't question him. We just enjoyed listening to his tales.
Thanksgiving approached, and he was still with us. The boys and I came home early the day before the vacation began. Grandpa was dozing by the fire, and ma looked up in surprise.
"What are you doing here so soon? Is someone sick?"
"Oh, no, ma. Who would get sick the day before Thanksgiving?" Reuben teased her. "Miss Gibson let us leave early today as long as we promised to do some extra work this weekend."
"That's nice. What do you have to do?"
"Every class is different," Roy told her. "I have to do a geography map."
"And I have a mathematics puzzle to solve," Reuben put in.
"What about you, Mabel? Did your class get an assignment?"
"We got the best one of all," I assured her. "We have to learn some lines from Shakespeare!"
Ma looked impressed. "I declare. That will be something. What lines are they?"
"Here, I'll show you," I said, and ran over to my books. "I put the paper right in here."
I opened the book I thought contained the lines, but the paper wasn't there. After shaking each book in turn, I knew I had forgotten it.
"Oh, no!" I wailed. "I left the paper at school! Now what will I do? I'll have a failing mark if I don't learn it, ma."
The commotion awakened grandpa. He peered over at me, curious why I was shaking the books so frantically.
"Eh? What's this?" he inquired.
"Mabel has some lines from Shakespeare to learn for school. She seems to have left them there, grandpa," ma explained to him.
"What were they about, Mabel?" ma asked me. "I probably don't know them, but Reuben might."
"Not me," Reuben declared. "I can't remember Shakespeare any longer than it takes to learn it."
"It was about a good name, ma," I said. "I just read it once."
Then a most unusual thing happened. Grandpa's voice rose clear and strong.
Good name, in man or woman, dear my lord, Is the immediate jewel of their souls.
Who steals my purse, steals trash; 'tis something, nothing;
'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands;
Robs me of that which not enriches him, And makes me poor indeed.
We all turned and stared at grandpa. When he had finished, I shouted, "That was it, ma! Oh, please write it down quickly before grandpa forgets it."
Grandpa chuckled. "Not likely to forget that, child. I learned that when I was a boy in school."
"Do you remember any other poetry, grandpa?" ma asked him. "That was amazing."
"Well, yes," grandpa answered modestly. "Know lots of poems. Lots of Bible, too. Can recite the whole Book of Philippians."
"Can you really? The whole book?" I asked.
"Yep. When you have time to listen, I'll recite it to you. Got to have my nap now though. Bible's a good thing to know." He sat up straight again. "You know that God told Job he'd make his mind clearer than the noonday when he got old. Well, he did that for me, too. Pays to trust the Lord."
With that, grandpa put his head back and was soon asleep.
"Can you believe that, ma?" Reuben said.
"I think I can," ma replied. "Grandpa Hobbs had a keen mind when he was a young man. There's no reason he shouldn't have it now. Just because he confuses the past with the present, doesn't mean all his knowledge is gone. We can still learn a lot from him."
I watched Grandpa Hobbs as he slept by the fire. When he woke up, he might think that pa was his son Ed. But he wouldn't have forgotten what he knew about the Bible.
"I'm glad the Lord has promised to be with us, even down to old age. That's a comforting thought to me," ma said with a twinkle in her eye. "Someday I may be old, too!"
The Spelling Bee
SOMETIMES WHEN I was visiting grandma, my things seemed to disappear. My sweater. My coloring box and crayons. Nothing seemed to be where I could find it.
"Grandma," I called as I was getting dressed one Saturday morning, "did you see my blue sweater anywhere?"
Grandma came to my bedroom door. "Did you put it away? It should be there in the drawer."
I showed her that it was not where it belonged. In fact, it was nowhere in the house.
Later, Uncle Roy came in from the barn, carrying the sweater. "I wonder if this belongs to anyone in here? It doesn't fit me."
"It's mine, Uncle Roy," I said. "I must have left it out there yesterday."
"You must have left your coloring book and crayons on the porch, too," grandma informed me. "Last night's rain didn't do much to improve them. The sooner you learn the habit of `A place for everything and everything in its place,' the happier you'll be."
"I just forget, grandma. Especially when I'm in a hurry to do something else."
"Maybe I should help you remember the way pa helped us," grandma suggested. "It didn't start out as the most pleasant lesson I ever had, but it certainly was effective."
"What was it, grandma? Tell me, and see if I'd like it."
"I'm sure you wouldn't like it anymore than I did—to begin with," she replied. "But I'll tell you about it....
Ma was getting breakfast one morning as I came into the kitchen.
"Are you all ready for school, Mabel?" she asked. "If you are, you can pack the dinner pails for me. Everything is ready there on the cupboard."
I went to do as ma instructed, and she bent over the woodbox to get more fuel for the fire.,
"For goodness' sake, Mabel," she sputtered.
"I almost put your speller in the stove! What in the world is it doing in the woodbox?"
"I must have left it there last night," I confessed. "I was studying by the stove."
"What if everyone in the house dropped things right where they were using them?" ma scolded. "We'd soon have nothing but chaos around here. Not that it doesn't come close to that anyway," she added. "Seems to me I spend half my time picking up aft
er you children."
"I'm sorry, ma. I'll try to do better."
Pa and the boys came in for breakfast. Pa pulled out his chair and sat down. Then just as quickly he jumped up again.
"Who spilled something on my chair?" he howled, clutching the seat of his overalls. The boys looked at each other.
"I think you sat on my science project, pa," Roy said. He looked at the overturned jar and wet moss on the chair. "Ruined it, too," he added. "I'll have to go back to the creek for more tadpoles."
"Tadpoles!" ma shrieked. "Where are the ones you had in the jar?"
"Pa squashed them, I expect," Roy answered.
Ma looked grim. "You just clean that mess up before you eat breakfast. Why would you leave something like that on the chair?"
"I guess I just forgot it," Roy answered. "I'm sure I would have remembered it when I got ready to go to school."
"I'm not," pa said. "If I hadn't sat on it, it could have stayed here until frogs were leaping around the kitchen. Don't you have anywhere in your room to keep your school doings?"
"Yes, sir," Roy replied. "But I just don't seem to get them there."
"Try," pa said, "before I have to confiscate everything I see lying around."
"What does confiscate mean, pa?" I asked. "It means that when I find something out of place, I'll take it."
I thought about this as I ate breakfast. That could amount to quite a loss if it happened to be my property he found. After prayer, we gathered our books to leave for school, and pa started out to the field. I thought I had better get something straight before he left.
"Pa, would you give it back?"
"Give what back?"
"Whatever you confiscated."
"I'll have to think about that," he said. "If you don't leave your belongings around, you won't have to know, will you?"
On the way to school, I talked it over with Sarah Jane.
"Do you think your pa would really do that?" she asked.
"I'm sure of it," I replied. "He doesn't say stuff unless he intends to do it. Once he told me that if I slammed the door one more time, he'd teach me how to close it."
"Did you slam it again?"
I nodded. "And he taught me how to close it. I opened and shut the back door for half an hour. I don't think I've slammed it since."
"Half an hour!" Sarah Jane exclaimed. "I would have cried until he let me stop."
"Then you'd still be doing it if you had my pa," I told her. "He thinks you should cry because you're sorry you did it, not because you're being punished. He can tell the difference, too!"
"I guess you'd better be careful where you put your things," Sarah Jane advised me. "You might lose something you can't live without."
I agreed, and for some time I took particular care to pick up my books and toys and clothing, and keep them out of pa's sight. The boys were careful, too, and ma was delighted.
"My, it's nice to open a drawer and not find someone's slate pencil in among my tableware," she said. "If the suggestion works that well, we may never have to try it."
Ma was too optimistic. Unfortunately, I was the first offender.
One of the big evenings of the school year came at the end of the spring term. Parents and school board members gathered to hear reports of what had been learned during the year.
Those who excelled in mathematics worked different problems for the visitors. The best science students prepared exhibits. There was a spelldown to choose the best speller for the year, and there were readings and recitations.
Excitement ran high the last month of school as we prepared our part of the program. This year I was to be in the spelling competition as well as give a recitation. As usual, I was concerned about what I would wear.
"Ma, do you think I could have a new dress for the program?" I asked. "I'll do extra dishes and help you if you could make me one."
"I think I saved some dimity that would make a nice dress," she said. "We'll look after supper."
The cloth was white with a small blue flower. When the dress was finished—with a ruffle on the neck and yoke—I thought it was the prettiest thing I had.
"We'll try to find a blue to match the flowers 'for a sash," ma said. "I think you have the right color hair ribbons."
"Oh, ma, it's beautiful," I sighed. "No one is going to look as pretty as I do."
"I hope you sound as good as you look. Remember, beauty is as beauty does. You can ruin the most gorgeous dress in the world by being haughty about it."
On Saturday we found the sash, and my dress was complete for the following Friday night.
As ma brushed my hair that evening, we, talked about the program. "Do you know your piece?" she asked.
"Oh, sure, ma. I've known it for weeks. Do you want me to say it for you?"
She nodded, and I recited the poem I had learned for the occasion.
"That's fine," she said when I had finished. "If you do your best in the spelling bee, Miss Gibson will be pleased with your work. And so will we.... How do your good shoes look? And did the sash match your ribbons?"
I ran to my room to get the sash and ribbons. When I picked up my shoes, I noticed a loose button on one of them.
"That sash is a good match," ma said when I returned to the kitchen. "If you'll put those back and bring me a needle and thread, I'll fix this button. I'm glad you noticed it."
I dashed out to get what she needed. While ma worked on my shoe, I sat down at the table to read.
"It's all finished," ma announced. "Don't forget to take these things back to your room."
"I won't, ma," I assured her. "I'm almost through with this story."
I was still reading when the boys came out to the kitchen.
"We would like to get our baths if you don't mind, your highness," Reuben said. "How about going to your own room now?"
"I don't have a lamp in my room," I protested. "I only have two more pages. Can't I finish while you get your bath ready?"
"Go ahead," Reuben answered. "But be quick about it. And don't forget to take your stuff with you when you go."
"Thanks, Reuben," I said, and went back to my book. I was through in a few moments. Tucking my book under my arm, I hurried off to bed. I didn't remember my clothes until I was snuggled down under the covers.
I can't get them now, I thought. I'll do it the first thing in the morning. And I promptly fell asleep.
The next day was sunny and beautiful. I sang to myself as I dressed for church. After I had fastened my one shoe, I felt around under the bed with my foot for the other shoe. Suddenly I recalled where I had left it. Quickly I hopped to the kitchen door.
"Ma, would you please hand me my shoe?" Ma looked up from the stove. "Where did you leave it?" she asked quietly.
I looked at the chair I had been sitting on the night before. The shoe was not under it. My heart sank.
"Did pa confiscate my things?" I asked timidly.
"Yes, he did," said a voice behind me. It was pa.
"But, pa, this is Sunday!" I pleaded. "I'm aware of that."
"I can't go to church with one shoe on!"
"Why, no," pa said. "I wouldn't make you do that. You'll have to wear your school shoes to church."
My mouth dropped open in disbelief. "Ma!" I wailed. "I can't wear my everyday shoes to church!"
"You haven't much choice," ma replied. "You only have one good shoe."
I turned and raced back to my room, sobbing loudly. I wouldn't even go to church. In fact, I wouldn't eat breakfast with the family. The boys would laugh, and everyone at church would see my old shoes.
By the time ma called me for breakfast, I had decided not to add disobedience to my other errors. I came quietly to the table—with my school shoes on.
I ate silently, an occasional tear dripping into my bowl. Surprisingly, the boys were sympathetic.
"Pa, did you think about whether you'd give back our things if you found them?" Roy asked.
"Yes," pa nodded. "I thought about it. I decided
I'd return them to you on your birthday."
My spoon dropped with a clatter. "But, pa!
My birthday isn't until June! What about the program?"
"I'm sorry, Mabel," pa said gently. "But you were reminded, weren't you?"
I nodded. I had been reminded at least three times.
"Do you think I should go back on my word?"
I shook my head miserably. I was upset, but I knew pa was being fair. I cried a lot that week, especially when I remembered that I wouldn't be able to wear my new dress, either, because pa had my sash and ribbon.
On Friday evening, we dressed for the program before supper. Ma put a big towel around my neck while I ate.
"Just a precaution," she explained. "You are getting better about spilling."
I was nervous about the evening, and chattered more than I ate. When prayers were over, I began to help ma clear the table.
"Mabel," pa said, "come here, please."
Surprised, I went over to stand in front of him.
"I'm going to give you your shoe and sash so you may wear your new dress tonight." I couldn't have been more astounded. I had never known pa to go back on his word. "But, why, pa?"
"Because I love you," he said simply. "I want you to know that there is a time for justice and a time for mercy. God doesn't give us the blessings of life because we deserve them, but because he loves us. Could I do less for my little daughter?"
"Oh, pa!" I cried, and threw my arms around his neck.
He hugged me tightly for a moment. "Here, here," he said, "we haven't much time. Roy, let me work on your hair, and, Reuben, you hitch up Nellie, please."
We all hurried to finish getting ready. That evening was as nice as any I can remember.
The Prettiest House in the County
GRANDMA, UNCLE ROY, and I were sitting around the kitchen table in the old farmhouse. We had just sampled some gingerbread, hot from the oven, and I was listening to grandma and her brother as they talked about the farm.
"The house really could stand some paint, Roy," grandma said. "How long since it's been done?"
Uncle Roy's eyes twinkled as he replied. "It's been painted since the barn has."