Susan Clegg and Her Friend Mrs. Lathrop Read online

  II

  MISS CLEGG'S ADOPTED

  It was an evening in early October,--one of those first frosty nightswhen a bright wood fire is so agreeable to contemplate and so morethan agreeable to sit in front of. Susan Clegg sat in front of hers,and doubtless thoroughly appreciated its cheerful warmth, but itcannot be said that she took any time to contemplate it, for her gazewas altogether riveted upon the stocking which she was knitting, andwhich appeared--for the time being--to absorb completely thatpersevering energy which was the dominant note of her character.

  But still the beauty and brilliancy of the leaping flames were notaltogether lost upon an unseeing world, for there was another presentbeside Susan, and that other was full to overflowing with the power ofsilent admiration. Her little black beady eyes stared at the dancinglights that leapt from each burning log in a species of raptabsorption, and it was only semi-occasionally that she turned themback upon the work which lay upon her lap. Mrs. Lathrop (for of courseit was Mrs. Lathrop) was matching scraps for a "crazy" sofa-pillow,and there was something as touchingly characteristic in the calmnessand deliberation of her matching as there was in the wild whirl whichSusan's stocking received whenever that lady felt the moment had cometo alter her needles. For Susan, when she knit, knit fast andfuriously, whereas Mrs. Lathrop's main joy in relation to labor lay inthe sensation that she was preparing to undertake it. The sofa-pillowhad been conceived--some eighteen months before--as a crazy-quilt, butall of us who have entertained such friends unawares know that thesize of their quilts depended wholly upon the wealth of ourscrap-bags, and in the case of Mrs. Lathrop's friends their silk andsatin resources had soon forced the reduction of her quilt into asofa-pillow, and indeed the poor lady had during the first weeks felta direful dread that the final result would be only a pin-cushion. Shehad begun the task with the idea of keeping it for "pick-up" work, andduring the eighteen months since its beginning she had picked it up sorarely that after a year and a half of "matching" it was not yetmatched. It goes without saying that Miss Clegg had very littlesympathy with her friend's fancy-work and despised the slowness of itsprogress, but her contempt had no effect whatever upon Mrs. Lathrop,whose friendship was of that quality the basis of which knows not thesensation of being shaken.

  So the older woman sat before the fire, and sometimes stared long uponits glow, and sometimes thoughtfully drew two bits of silk from herbag and disposed them side by side to the end that she might calmlyand dispassionately judge the advisability of joining them togetherforever, while the younger woman knit madly away without an instant'sloss or a second's pause.

  Mrs. Lathrop was thinking very seriously of pinning a green stripe toa yellow polka-dotted weave which had once formed part of Mrs. Macy'smother's christening-robe, when Susan opened her lips and addressedher. The attack was so sudden that the proprietor of the crazy-workstarted violently and dropped the piece of the christening-robe; butthe slight accident had no effect upon her friend.

  "It does beat me, Mrs. Lathrop," she began, "how you can potter overthat quilt year in and year out. I sh'd think you'd be so dead-sick o'the sight o' them pieces 't you'd be glad to dump the whole in thefire. I don't say but the idea is a nice one, an' you know 's well asI do that when they're too frayed to wear every one's nothin' but gladto save you their bonnet-strings, but all the same my own feelin' inthe matter is 't a thing that ain't come to sewin' in two years ain'tnever goin' to come to bindin' in my lifetime, an' naturally that 'dleave you to finish your quilt some years after you was dead. I don'tsee how you're goin' to get a quilt out o' them pieces anyhow. Thistown ain't give to choppin' up their silk in a way that's likely toleave you many scraps, 'n' I know 's far 's I'm concerned 't if I hadany good silk I sh'd certainly save it to mend with, 'n' I'm a richwoman too."

  "I ain't tryin' for a quilt," said Mrs. Lathrop mildly, "I'm only--"

  "_Mrs. Lathrop_"--Susan's tone was emphatically outraged--"Mrs.Lathrop, do you mean to say that after all this givin' you ain't goin'to do your share? 'N' me lettin' you have the inside of the top offather's hat, 'n' Mrs. Fisher savin' you all her corners jus' on yoursimple askin'. You _said_ a quilt, 'n' we give for a quilt, 'n' ifyou've changed your mind I must say I want the inside o' the hat againto polish my parlor lookin'-glass with."

  "I ain't got enough for the quilt," said Mrs. Lathrop; "it's asofa-pillow I'm--"

  "Oh," said Susan, much relieved, "well--I'm glad to hear it. Icouldn't hardly believe it of you, Mrs. Lathrop, 'n' yet if you can'tbelieve what a person says of themselves who can you believe when itcomes to talkin' about anybody? I'm glad to know the truth, though,Mrs. Lathrop, for I was more upset 'n I showed at the notion o' losin'faith in you. You know what I think of you, 'n' I called you overto-night to ask your advice about suthin' as has been roamin' my headfor a long time, 'n' you can mebbe understand 's it didn't over-pleaseme to have your first remark one as I couldn't in reason approve of. Awoman as 'll begin a quilt 'n' trade hen's eggs 'n' all but go aroun'town on her bended knees to get the old ties of other women's lawfulhusbands, jus' to give up in the end has got no advisin' stuff for meinside o' her. I wouldn't like to hurt your feelin's, Mrs. Lathrop,'n' as long as you say it's a sofa-pillow o' course there's no harmdone, but still it _was_ a shock 'n' I can't deny it."

  Mrs. Lathrop appeared most regretful, withdrew her gaze from the fireand the yellow polka-dots and directed its entire volume at Susan.

  The latter altered her needles with a fierce fling, and thencontinued:

  "However, now 's all is made clear I will go on 'n' tell you what's onmy mind. I'd be a fool not to tell you, havin' got you over here justfor the purpose o' bein' told, 'n' yet I've sat here a good hour--'n'you know I ain't over-give to sittin', Mrs. Lathrop--tryin' to decidewhether after all I would tell you or not. You see this subjeck isn'tnowise new to me, but it'll be new to you, 'n' bein' new to you Ican't see how anythin' 's goin' to be got out o' askin' you f'radvice. It ain't likely 't any one first go-off c'n think of things 'tI ain't thought of already, 'n' you know yourself, Mrs. Lathrop, howlittle you ever have to say to me compared to what I say to you.Besides, 's far's my observation 's extended no one don't ask f'radvice 'nless they've pretty well made up their mind not to take it,if so be 's it suits 'em better untook, 'n' when I make up my mind I'mgoin' to do a thing anyhow so there ain't much use in me askin' you 'ranybody else what they think about it. A woman 's rich 's I be don'tneed to take no one else's say-so nohow--not 'nless she feels soinclined, 'n' the older I get the less I incline."

  Mrs. Lathrop sighed slightly, but did not alter her position by ahair. Susan whirled her stocking, took a fresh breath, and went on:

  "It's a subjeck 't I've been lookin' straight in the face, 's well 'supside down 'n' hind end to, f'r a good long time. I 'xpeck 't it'llmebbe come in the nature of a surprise to the c'mmunity in general,'n' yet, to tell you the truth, Mrs. Lathrop, I was thinkin' o' thisvery thing away back las' spring when Mrs. Shores eloped. I was eventhinkin' of it that very minute, f'r I was one o' them 's was in thesquare when Johnny come runnin' from the station with the telegram.Everybody 's see Johnny's face thought 's two trains had smashed onhis a'count somewhere, 'n' I recolleck Mr. Kimball's sayin' 's hecouldn't 'a' looked more miserable 'f he'd been the man 's had runaway with her. It was too bad you wasn't there, Mrs. Lathrop,--Mrs.Macy always says 't she'll regret to her dyin' day 's she thought o'comin' to town that mornin' to get the right time f'r her clock 'n'then decided to wait 'n' set it by the whistle. Gran'ma Mullins wasthere--she was _almost_ in front o' Mr. Shores' store. I've heard hersay a hunderd times 't, give her three seconds more, 'n' she'd 'a'been right in front; but she was takin' her time, 'n' so she jus'missed seein' Johnny hand in the telegram. I was standin' back to theband-stand, tellin' Mrs. Allen my receipt for cabbage pickle, so Inever felt to blame myself none f'r not gettin' nearer quicker. Thefirst thing I recolleck was I says, ''N' then boil the vinegar again,''n' Mrs. Allen give a scream 'n' run. Then I turned 'n' see every onerunnin', 'n' Mr. Sho
res in the lead. They do say 's he was so crazy 'tfirst 't he seemed to think he c'd catch the Knoxville Express bytearin' across the square. But he give out afore he reached JudgeFitch's, 'n' Johnny 'n' Hiram Mullins had to carry him home. Well, itwas a bad business at first, 'n' when she kidnapped the baby 't wasworse. I was down in the square the day 't Johnny come with thattelegram too. I remember Mrs. Macy 'n' me was the only ones there'cause it was Monday. I wasn't goin' to wash 'cause I only had anightgown 'n' two aprons, 'n' the currants was ripe 'n' I'd gone downto get my sugar, 'n' Johnny come kitin' up fr'm the station, 'n' Mrs.Macy 'n' me didn't put on no airs but just kited right after him. Mrs.Macy always says she learned to see the sense in Bible miracles thatday, f'r she had n't run in years then, 'n' she's walked with a stickever since, but she run that day, 'n' Johnny bein' tired 'n' Mrs. Macy'n' me fresh--she was a little fresher 'n me f'r I 'd been talkin'--weall three come in on Mr. Shores together. Seems like I c'n see himnow. He sort of shivered all over 'n' says, 'Ah--a telegram!' 'n'Johnny says, 'Jus' come,' 'n' then we all waited. Well, Mrs. Lathrop,I guess I've told you before how he jus' sort o' went right up in theair!--it said, 'We have took the child,' 'n' he bounced all over likea rat that ain't good caught 'n' then he out 'n' away 'n' we rightafter him. He kept hollerin', 'It's a lie--it's a lie,' but when hegot home he found out 't Mrs. Shores had kep' her word 's usual. Mrs.Macy put cold water to his head 'n' I mixed mustard plasters 'n' put'em on anywhere 't he was still enough, but all the same they had tolace him to the ironin' board that night. I hear lots o' folks says 'she's never really knowed which end up he was walkin' since, but Iguess there's more reasons f'r that 'n her takin' the baby. My ownview o' the matter is 't he misses his clerk full 's much 's he misseshis family, f'r he's got to tend both sides of the store at once 'n'he don't begin to be as spry 's that young feller was. He can't hopback 'n' forth over the counter like he used to; he's got to go wayback through the calicoes every time or else climb up in thewindow-seat over that squirrel 't he keeps there in a cage advertisin'fur-lined mitts 'n' winter nuts. Mr. Kimball 's forever makin' one o'them famous jokes of his over him, 'n' sayin' 't he never looks acrossthe square without he sees Shores tryin' to rise above his troubles'n' his squirrel together, but I don't see nothin' funny in any of itmyself. I think it's no more 'n' what he might of 'xpected. He got thesquirrel himself 'n' his wife too, 'n' she never did suit him. He wasall put out at first over her takin' it so to heart 't he wore a wig,'n' then he was clean disgusted over the baby 'cause he wanted a boy't he could name after himself. They said he all but cried, 'n' shecried dreadful, f'r she didn't know nothin' about babies 'n' thoughtit was goin' to be bald always, jus' like him. But what did he marryfor if he did n't want trouble?--That was what I said to theminister's wife. She come to call right in the first of it, 'n' I mustsay 't if she hadn't come mebbe a good many things might o' beendifferent, for my mind was about made up then, an' I was thinkin' veryserious o' mebbe sayin' suthin' to you that very night. But she put meat outs with the whole thing--not as I won't admit 't there ain't adifference between one 'n' nine, f'r any one c'n work _that_ out ontheir fingers fast enough."

  Mrs. Lathrop assented to this statement by moving her head in a slowacquiescent rhythm as she rocked.

  "But her talk was certainly awful discouragin'. She was tryin' tospeak o' Mr. Shores, but she kep' trailin' back to herself, 'n' whenshe said 't she'd never had time to crimp her hair since her weddin'day she jus' broke right down. I cheered her up all I could. I toldher she couldn't with a clear conscience blame any one but herself 'n'she'd ought to say her prayers of gratitude 't she hadn't got eightherself, same 's him. She sort o' choked 'n' said she couldn't haveeight 'cause she had n't been married but one year. 'Well,' I says, 'Idon't see no great sense in that; he had eight the day he was married's far 's that goes, did n't he?' She jus' rocked back 'n' forth 'n'said 't no one in the whole wide world had any notion how many eightchildren was till they turned aroun' from the altar 'n' see 'em strungout in the pew 's is saved for the family. I told her 't as far 's myobservation 'd 'xtended quite a number o' things looked differentcomin' down from the altar, 'n' it was in my heart to tell her 't ifI'd let any man get so much the better o' me 's to marry me, myself-respeck would certainly shut my mouth up tight afterwards. Aslong 's a woman 's single she's top-dog in the fight 'n' can say whatshe pleases, but after she's married a man she'll keep still 'f she'swise, 'n' the wiser she is the stiller she'll keep, for there's nosense in ever lettin'folks know how badly you've been fooled.--But Ididn't say all that to the minister's wife, for she didn't look likeshe had strength to listen, 'n' so I made her some tea instead.--'N'_then_ it come out 't after all what she come for was to borrow myclo'es-wringer! Well, Mrs. Lathrop, I certainly didn't have no blamef'r myself at feelin' some tempered under them circumstances,--me _so_sympathetic--'n' the tea--'n' all."

  Mrs. Lathrop shook her head in calm and appreciative understanding.

  "Did you lend--" she asked.

  "--'N' there are folks just like that in this world too," Susancontinued, "'n' it beats me what the Lord makes 'em so for, forthey'll talk 'n' talk 'n' wander all over every subjeck in Creation tocome 'n' never even begin to get around to the point till you're cleangi'n out with listenin'. 'F the minister's wife hadn't come that day'n' hadn't talked as she did, I might 'a' been left less wore out and,as a consequence, have told you that night what I ain't never told youyet, for it was strong in my mind then 'n' it's strong in my mind now,'n' bein' one o' them 's wastes no words, I'll state to you at once,Mrs. Lathrop, 't before Mrs. Shores run away--'n' after she run awaytoo, f'r that matter--I was thinkin' very seriously o' adoptin' ababy."

  "A--" said Mrs. Lathrop, opening her eyes somewhat.

  "A baby," repeated Susan. "I feel you ought to be the first one toknow it because, 's much 's I'm out, you'll naturally have the care ofit the most of the time."

  Mrs. Lathrop clawed feebly among her pieces and seemed somewhatbewildered as she clawed.

  "Mrs. Shores' ba--" she queried.

  Susan screamed.

  "_Mrs. Lathrop!_"--she stopped knitting so that she might concentrateher entire strength into the extreme astonishment which she desired torender manifest in those two words--"Mrs. Lathrop!--Me!--adopt Mrs.Shores' baby! Adopt the baby of a woman as 'd gone off 'n' left it!"

  Mrs. Lathrop looked deeply apologetic.

  "I didn't know--" she ventured.

  "Well, you'd ought to of," said Susan, "'n' if you didn't I'd neverown to it. Such a idea never entered my head, 'n' I can't conceivewhen nor how it entered yours. Only I'm free to confess to one thing,Mrs. Lathrop, 'n' that is 't 'f _I_ was give to havin' ideas 'ssenseless 's yours often are, I'd certainly keep my mouth shut 'n' letpeople 's knows more do the talkin'."

  Mrs. Lathrop swallowed the rebuke and remained passively overcome bythe after-clap of her astonishment.

  Susan began to knit again.

  "I wasn't thinkin' o' Mrs. Shores' baby 'n' I wasn't thinkin' o' nobaby in particular. I never said I was thinkin' of any baby--I said Iwas thinkin' of _a_ baby. I sh'd think you could 'a' seen thedifference, but even if you can't see it there is a difference justthe same. My sakes alive! it's a serious enough matter decidin' toadopt some one for good 'n' all without hurryin' the doin' of it any.If you was 's rich 's I be, Mrs. Lathrop, you'd understand thatbetter. 'N' if you was 's rich 's I be, you might not be in no more ofa hurry 'n I am. I ain't in a hurry a _tall_. I ain't in a hurry 'n' Idon't mean to be in a hurry. I'm only jus' a-gettin' on towards makin'up my mind."

  Mrs. Lathrop slowly and meditatively drew a piece of sky-blue farmer'ssatin from her bag and looked at it absent-mindedly. Susan twirled herstocking and went on.

  "'S long 's I've begun I may 's well make a clean breast of the wholenow. O' course you don't know nothin', Mrs. Lathrop, but, to put thewhole thing in a shell, this adoptin' of a child 's a good deal toconsider. When a woman 's married, it's the Lord's will 'n' out o' theBible 'n' to be took without no murmurin' 's to
your own feelin's inthe matter. Every one 's sorry for married people, no matter how theirchildren turn out, because, good or bad, like enough they done theirbest, 'n' if they didn't it was always the other one's fault; butthere ain't no one goin' to lay themselves out to try 'n' smooth mychild's thorns into a bed o' roses for me. Every one 's jus' goin' toup 'n' blame me right 'n' left, 'n' if it has a pug-nose or turns outbad I can't shoulder none of it onto the Lord, I'll jus' have thewhole c'mmunity sayin' I've got myself 'n' no one else to thank. Now,when you know f'r sure 't you can't blame nobody else but jus'yourself, you go pretty slow, 'n' for that very reason I'm thinkin'this subjeck well over afore I decide. There's a good many questionsto consider,--my mind 's got to be made up whether boy or girl 'n' age'n' so forth afore I shall open my lips to a livin' soul."

  Mrs. Lathrop appeared to be slowly recovering from the effects of hersurprise.

  "Would you take a small--" she asked, perhaps with some mentalreference to the remark that dowered her with the occasional charge ofthe future adopted Clegg.

  "Well, I d'n' know. That's a very hard thing that comes up first ofall every time 't I begin thinkin'. When most folks set out to adopt ababy, the main idea seems to be to try 'n' get 'em so young 't theycan't never say for sure's you ain't their mother."

  Mrs. Lathrop nodded approval, mute but emphatic, of the wisdom of herfriend's views.

  "But I ain't got none o' that foolish sort o' notions in me. Iwouldn't be its mother, 'n' 'f there was n't no one else to tell it soMr. Kimball 'd rejoice to the first time I sent it down town alone.It's nigh to impossible to keep nothin' in the town with Mr. Kimball.A man f'rever talkin' like that 's bound to tell everythin' sooner orlater, 'n' I never was one to set any great store o' faith on atalker. When I don't want the whole town to know 't I'm layin' inrat-poison I buy of Shores, 'n' when I get a new dress I buy o'Kimball. I don't want my rats talked about 'n' I don't mind my dress.For which same reason I sh'll make no try 't foolin' my baby. I'll becontent if it cooes. I remember Mrs. Macy's sayin' once 't a baby wassweetest when it cooes, 'n' I don't want to miss nothin', 'n' we ain'tnever kep' doves for me to be dead-sick o' the noise, so I want thecooin' age. I think it'll be pleasant comin' home days to hear thebaby cooin', 'n' 'f it cooes too loud when I'm away you c'n alwayscome over 'n' see if it's rolled anywhere. I c'n see that, generallyspeaking, it's a wise thing that folks jus' have to take 'em as theycome, because when it's all for you to choose you want so much 't like's not I can't be suited after all. It's goin' to be pretty harddecidin', 'n' when I've done decidin' it's goin' to be pretty hardfindin' a baby that's all 't I've decided; 'n' then, _if_ I findit,--then comes the raisin' of it, 'n' I espect that 'll be suthin'jus' awful."

  "How was you goin' to find--" Mrs. Lathrop asked.

  "Well, I've got to go to town to look at winter coats, 'n' I thought't when I'd found what I wanted I'd jus' glance through two or threeorphan asylums afore comin' home."

  Mrs. Lathrop pinned the purple to the yellow and shut one eye so as tojudge of the combination from the single standpoint of the other. Sheseemed to be gradually regaining her normal state of abnormalcalmness.

  "I thought 't your coat was pretty good," she said mildly, as Susanaltered her needles. The stocking started violently.

  "Pretty good! It's most new. My heavens alive, Mrs. Lathrop, don't youknow 's well 's I do 't I ain't had my new coat but four years 'n'then only to church!"

  "You _said_ 't you was goin' to get--" Mrs. Lathrop remarked, unpinningthe purple as she spoke and replacing it in the bag.

  "_Mrs. Lathrop_! 'f you don't beat anythin' 't I ever saw for puttin'words 't I never even dreamed of into other folks's mouths! 'S if Ishould ever think o' buyin' a new coat 'n' the price-tag not evendirty on the inside o' mine yet! I never said 't I was goin' to buy acoat,--I never thought o' goin' to buy a coat,--what I did say was 'tI was goin' to _look at_ coats, an' the reason 't I'm goin' to look atcoats is because I'm goin' to cut over the sleeves o' mine. I thoughtall last winter 't it was pretty queer for a woman 's rich 's I be towear old-fashioned sleeves--more particularly so where I c'n easy cuta new sleeve crossways out o' the puffs o' the old ones. 'N' _that's_why I want to look at coats, Mrs. Lathrop, for I ain't in the habit o'settin' my shears in where I can't see my way out."

  Mrs. Lathrop fingered a piece of rusty black silk and made no comment.

  "When I get done lookin' at coats, lookin' 't orphans 'll be jus' anice change. If I see any 't I think might suit I'll take theirnumbers 'n' come home 'n' see about decidin', 'n' if I don't see any't I like I'll come home jus' the same."

  The clock struck nine. Mrs. Lathrop rose and gathered up her bag ofpieces.

  "I mus' be goin' home," she said.

  "I was thinkin' that very same thing," said Susan, rising also. "It'sour thinkin' so much the same't keeps us friends, I guess."

  Mrs. Lathrop sought her shawl and departed.

  * * * * *

  It was about a week later that the trip to town took place. The daywas chosen to suit the opening of a most unprecedented Fire-Sale. MissClegg thought that the latest styles in coat-sleeves were likely tobloom broadcast on so auspicious an occasion, and Mrs. Lathrop herselfwas sufficiently infected by the advertising in the papers to dare tointrust her friend with the whole of a two-dollar bill to bejudiciously invested if bargains should really run as wildly rife aswas predicted.

  Susan departed very early and did not get back till very late--so latein fact that her next-door neighbor had the time to become more than alittle anxious as to the possibilities of some mischance havingbefallen her two-dollar bill.

  But towards eight o'clock signs of life next door appeared to theanxious watcher in the Lathrop kitchen window, and one minute latershe was on her way across. She found the front door, which wascommonly open, to be uncommonly shut, and was forced to rap loudly andwait lengthily ere the survivor of the Fire-Sale came to let her in.

  Then when the door did open the figure which appeared in the openingwas such as to startle even the phlegmatically disposed chewer ofclover.

  "My heavens alive, Susan, whatever is the matter with--"

  Susan backed faintly into the hall so as to allow the other to enter.

  "I'm worn to a frazzle--that's all!" she said weakly and wearily.

  They turned into the parlor, where the lamp was burning, and Mrs.Lathrop gave a little frightened scream:

  "Susan! why, you look half--"

  Miss Clegg collapsed at once heavily upon the haircloth-covered sofa.

  "I guess you'd better make me some tea," she suggested, and shut hereyes.

  Mrs. Lathrop had no doubt whatever on the subject. Hurrying out to thekitchen, she brewed a cup of the strongest possible tea in the fewestpossible moments, and brought it in to the traveller. The latter drankwith satisfaction, then leaned back with a sigh.

  "It was a auction!" she said in tones that gasped.

  Mrs. Lathrop could restrain her anxiety no longer.

  "Did you get anything with my--" she asked.

  "Yes; it's out in the hall with my shawl."

  "What did--"

  "It's a parrot," said Susan.

  "A parrot!" cried Mrs. Lathrop, betraying as much feeling as it was inher to feel.

  "Without any head," Susan added wearily.

  "Without any head!"

  Then Miss Clegg straightened up in her seat and opened her eyes.

  "There ain't no need o' bein' so surprised," she said in that peculiartone with which one who has spent another's money always defends hispurchase,--"it's a stuffed parrot without any head."

  "A stuffed parrot without any head!" Mrs. Lathrop repeated limply, andher tone was numb and indescribable.

  "How much did it--" she asked after a minute.

  "I bid it in for one dollar 'n' ninety-seven cents,--I was awfulscared f'r fear it would go over your two dollars, an' it wasn'tnothin' that I'd ever want, so I couldn't 'a' taken it off your handsif it _had_ gone over yo
ur money."

  "I wonder what I can do with it," her neighbor said feebly.

  "You must hang it in the window so high 't the head don't show."

  "I thought you said it didn't have no head."

  Miss Clegg quitted the sofa abruptly and came over to her own chair;the tea appeared to be beginning to take effect.

  "It _hasn't_ got no head! If it had a head, where would be the sensein hangin' it high a _tall_? It's your good luck, Mrs. Lathrop, 't ithasn't got no head, for the man said 't if it had a head it would 'a'brought four or five dollars easy."

  Mrs. Lathrop got up and went out into the hall to seek her parrot.When she brought it in and examined it by the light of the lamp, herexpression became more than dubious.

  "What did _you_ get for your--" she asked at last.

  "I didn't get nothin'. I didn't see nothin' 't I wanted, 'n' I learnedlong ago 't an auction 's generally a good place f'r buyin' things 'tyou don't want after you've bought 'em. Now take that parrot o'yours!--I wouldn't have him 'f you was to offer him to me for a gift;not to speak o' his not havin' no head, he looks to me like he hadmoths in him,--you look at him by daylight to-morrow 'n' see if itdon't strike you so too."

  Mrs. Lathrop was silent for a long time. Finally she said:

  "Did you go to the Orphan Asylum?"

  "Well--no--I did n't. I would 'a' gone only I got on the wrong car 'n'ended in a cemetery instead. I had a nice time there, though, walkin'roun' 'n' readin' ages, an' jus' as I was goin' out I met a monumentman 't had a place right outside the gate, 'n' he took me to look athis things, 'n' then I remembered father--two years dead 'n' not astone on him yet!"

  Mrs. Lathrop laid the parrot aside with a heavy sigh and concentratedall her attention upon her friend's recital.

  "The man was about 's pleasant a man 's ever I met. When I told himabout father, he told me he took a interest in every word, whether Ibought a monument of him or not. He said he'd show me all he had 'n'welcome 'n' it was no trouble but a joy. Then he took me all throughhis shop 'n' the shed behind, 'n' really I never had a nicer time. Isee a lamb lyin' down first, 'n' I thought 't that would be nice f'r alittle, but the further back we went the finer they got. The manwanted me to take a eagle grippin' a pen 'n' writin' father's name ona book 't he's sittin' on to hold open while he writes. I told him 'fI bought any such monument I cert'nly would want the name somewhereelse than up where no one but the eagle could read it. He said 't Icould have the name below 'n' let the eagle be writin' 'Repose inPeace,' but I told him 't father died of paralysis after bein' in bedfor twenty years 'n' that his idea o' Heaven wasn't reposin' inpeace,--he always looked forward to walkin' about 'n.' bein' prettylively there. Then the man said 't maybe suthin' simple would be moreto my taste, 'n' he took me to where there was a pillow with a wreathof roses on it, but--my gracious, I'd never be so mean 's to put apillow anywhere near father after all them years in bed, 'n' as to theroses they'd be jus' 's bad or worse, for you know yourself how theygive him hay-fever so 's we had to dig up all the bushes years ago.

  "But I'll tell you, Mrs. Lathrop, what I _did_ see that nobody on thewide earth c'd help wishin' was on top o' their grave the minute theylaid eyes on it. It's a lion--a weepin' lion--kind o' tryin' to wipehis eyes with one paw. I tell you I never saw nothin' one quarter sohandsome over no one yet, 'n' if I wasn't thinkin' o' adoptin' a childI'd never rest until I'd set that lion on top of father. But o'course, as it is, I can't even think how it might look there; thelivin' has rights over the dead, 'n' my child can't go without thenecessaries of life while my father gets a weepin' lion 't when youcome right square down to it he ain't got no more use for 'n' a cathas for two tails. No, I'm a rich woman, but all incomes has theiroutside fence. 'F a man 's got a million a year, he can't spend twomillion, 'n' I can't start in child raisin' 'n' tombstone father allin the same year. Father 'll have to wait, 'n' he got so used to itwhile he was alive 't he ought not to mind it much now he's dead. ButI give the man my address, 'n' he give me one o' his cards, 'n' when Igo to the Orphan Asylum I may go back 'n' see him, an' maybe if I tellhim about the baby he'll reduce the lion some. The lion is awfulhigh--strikes me. He's three hunderd dollars, but the man says that 'sbecause his tail 's out o' the same block. I asked him if he couldn'ttake the tail off, but he said 't that would hurt his reputation. Hesaid 'f I'd go up the ladder to his second floor 'n' look down on thelion I'd never talk about sawin' off his tail, 'n' he said 't anyhowcuttin' it off would only make it cost more because it was cut on inthe first place. I saw the sense o' that, 'n' I remembered, too, 'teven 'f folks in the cemetery never can see the tail, father 'll haveto look at it from higher up 'n the ladder to the monument man's shed,'n' I don't want him to think 't I economized on the tail of histombstone. I tell you what, Mrs. Lathrop, I cert'nly do want thatlion, but I can't have it, so I've decided not to think of it again.The man c'd see I wanted it, 'n' I c'd see 't he really wanted me tohave it. He felt so kind o' sorry for me 't he said he'd do me aweepin' fox for one hunderd 'n' fifty, if I wanted it, but I didn'twant no fox. Father didn't have nothin' like a fox--his nose was broad'n' kind o' flat. He hadn't nothin' like a lion, neither, but I'd liketo have the only lion in the cemetery ours."

  Mrs. Lathrop nodded her head sympathetically.

  Miss Clegg sighed and looked pensive for a moment, but it was soonover.

  "'N' I've decided about my child too," she continued briskly,--"I'vedecided to have a boy. I decided goin' in on the train to-day. I'dbeen sorter thinkin' that I'd leave it to chance, but ordinary folkscan't do no more 'n' that, 'n' where 's the good o' me bein' so open'n' above-board 'f I dunno whether it'll be a boy or girl, after all?I might 's well 's married the minister, 'n' Lord knows Mrs. Shores'stroubles ought to be warnin' enough to no woman in this community notto marry no man, f'r one while, at any rate. If Mrs. Shores hadn'tmarried Mr. Shores, she c'd easy 'a' married his clerk when she fellin love with him. No woman that 's goin' to fall in love ever ought tobegin by marryin' another man first. It mixes everythin' all up. ButMrs. Shores was a fool or she never would 'a' married him to beginwith. I told him that the first time 't I see him after she was gone.I thought 't if it was any comfort to him to know that there was oneperson in the c'mmunity 't looked on his wife as a fool he was welcometo the knowin'. So I told him, 'n' I used those very self-same wordstoo,--'n' I cert'nly did ache to tell him that he was jus' 's big afool himself to 'a' ever married her, but I didn't think 't that wouldbe jus' polite.

  "But all that was right in the first of it--before she took the baby.I'm free to confess 't I think he c'd 'a' stood anythin' 'f she hadn'ttook the baby. It was the baby as used him all up. 'N' that seems kindo' queer too, for seems to me, 'f my wife run away, I'd be glad tomake a clean sweep o' her 'n' hers 'n' begin all afresh; I'd neverhave no injunctions 'n' detectives drawin' wages for chasin' no wife'n' baby 't left o' their own accord. But that's jus' like a man, 'n'I must say 't I'm dead glad 't no man ain't goin' to have no right tointerfere with my child. I c'n take it 'n' go anywhere 't I please 'n'never be afraid o' any subpenny comin' down on me. 'S far 's I'mconcerned, I only wish 't she'd send back 'n' abduct him too, 'n' thenthe community 'd have some peace on the Shores subjeck. There ain'tnothin' left to say, 'n' every one keeps sayin' it over 'n' over fromdawn to dark. I must say, Mrs. Lathrop, 't when I c'nsider how muchfolks still find to say o' Mrs. Shores 'n' it all, I'm more 'n proudthat I ain't never been one to say nothin' a _tall_."

  Mrs. Lathrop did not speak for some time. Then she took up her parrotagain and looked thoughtfully at its feet.

  "What made you decide on a b--" she asked at last.

  "I didn't decide. I c'u'd n't decide, 'n' so I shook a nickel forheads 'n' tails."

  "'N' it came a boy."

  "No, it came a girl, 'n' the minute 't I see 't it was a girl I knew't I'd wanted a boy all along, so, 's the good o' me bein' free to act's I please is 't I do act 's I please, I decided then 'n' there on aboy."

  Mrs. Lathrop turned the parrot over.<
br />
  'F you was so set on a boy, why did you--"

  "What do folks ever toss up for? To decide. Tossin' up always showsyou jus' how much you didn't want what you get. Only, as a generalthing, there's some one else who does want it, an' they grab it 'n'you go empty-handed. The good o' me tossin' is I c'n always takeeither side o' the nickel after I've tossed. I ain't nobody'sfool--'n' I never was--'n' I never will be. But I guess I've got toask you to go home now, Mrs. Lathrop. I've had a hard day 'n' I'm'most too tired to pay attention to what you say any longer. I want toget to bed 'n' to sleep, 'n' then to-morrow maybe I'll feel liketalkin' myself."

  * * * * *

  The third morning after Miss Clegg's trip to town she astonished herneighbor by tapping on the latter's kitchen window at the early hourof seven in the morning. Mrs. Lathrop was getting breakfast, and hersurprise caused her to jump unduly.

  "Well, _Susan_!" she said, opening the door, "what ever is the--"

  "Matter! Nothin' ain't the matter, only I've had a letter from themonument man. It come last night, 'n' the minister took it out o' thepost-office 'n' sent it over by little 'Liza Em'ly when she come withthe milk this mornin'. I dunno whether to thank the minister for bein'so kind or whether to ask him to mind his own business. It's got'Important' on the corner, 'n' sometimes I don't go to the post-officefor two days at a time, but jus' the same it strikes me 't I ain'taltogether in favor o' the minister's carryin' my mail home with himany time he feels so inclined. If I'd 'a' married him, I never 'd 'a'allowed him to interfere with my affairs, 'n' 's long 's I didn'tmarry him I don't see no good reason for his doin' so now."

  Susan paused and looked at the letter which she held in her hand. Mrs.Lathrop slid one of the kitchen chairs up behind her, and she satdown, still looking at the letter.

  "It's from the monument man," she said again, "'n' I don't know whatever I shall do about it, I'm sure."

  Mrs. Lathrop was all attention.

  "It's about the lion. He says 't he's been 'n' took some black chalk'n' marked around under him 'Sacred to the memory of Blank Clegg,' 'n'he says 't it looks so noble 't he's had an offer for the monument 'n'he wants me to come in 'n' see it afore he sells it to--to some oneelse."

  There was a short silence, broken at last by Mrs. Lathrop.

  "Your father's name wa'n't 'Blank,'" she said; "it was 'Henry.'"

  Susan knit her brows.

  "I know, 'n' that's one thing 't 's been troublin' me. It's writtenout in good plain letters--'Blank Clegg'--'n' I've been tryin' 'n'tryin' to think what I could 'a' said to 'a' made him suppose 't itcould 'a' been 'Blank.' That 'd be the last name in the wide world foranybody to name anybody else, I sh'd suppose, 'n' I can't see for thelife o' me why that monument man sh'd 'a' hit on it for father. I'mcert'nly mighty glad that he's only marked it on in black chalk 'n'not chopped it out o' the bottom o' the lion. O' course 'f he 'dchopped it out I'd 'a' had to 'a' taken it an' it'd jus' made me thelaughin'-stock o' the whole community. I know lots o' folks 't areplenty mean enough 's to say 't that lion was weepin' because I didn'tknow my own father's name."

  Mrs. Lathrop looked sober.

  "So I guess I've got to go to town by to-day's ten o'clock. I ain't nointention o' takin' the lion, but I _shall_ like to stand off a littleways 'n' look at the part o' the name 't 's spelt right. Later maybeI'll visit a few asylums--I ain't sure. But anyway I thought I'd jus'run over 'n' let you know 't I was goin', 'n' ask you if there'sanythin' 't I can get f'r you while I'm in town."

  "No, there isn't," said Mrs. Lathrop with great firmness.

  Susan rose to go.

  "I'm thinkin' o' buyin' the Shores baby outfit," she said. "I guessMr. Shores 'll be glad to sell it cheap. They say 't he can't bear tobe reminded o' the baby, 'n' I don't well see what else the crib 'n'the baby carriage can remind him of."

  "I wonder if the sewing-machine reminds him o' Mrs. Shores," said Mrs.Lathrop. "I'd be glad to buy it if it did 'n' 'f he was wantin' tosell it cheap."

  "I dunno why it sh'd remind him o' Mrs. Shores," said Susan; "shenever sewed on it none. She never did nothin' 's far 's I c'd make outexcept to sit on the front porch 'n' talk to his clerk. My, but I sh'dthink he 'd hate the sight o' that front porch. If it c'd be got off,I 'd like to buy that of him too. My front porch 's awful old 'n'shaky 'n' I 'll need a good porch to wheel baby on. He c'd take myporch in part payment. It's bein' so old 'n' shaky wouldn't matter tohim I don't suppose, for I 'll bet a dollar he 'll never let no otherwife o' his sit out on no porch o' his, not 'ntil after he's dead 'n'buried anyway; 'n' as for sittin' on a porch himself, well, all is Iknow 't if it was me it 'd scorch my rockers."

  "What time do you think 't you '11 get back?" asked Mrs. Lathrop.

  "I ain't sure. 'F I should get real interested huntin' orphans, Imight stay until it was too dark to see 'em good. I can't tell nothin'about it, though. You 'd better watch for the light in the kitchen,'n' when you see it burnin' I wish 't you'd come right over."

  Mrs. Lathrop agreed to this arrangement, and Miss Clegg went home toget ready for town.

  * * * * *

  She returned about five o'clock, and the mere general aspect of herapproaching figure betokened some doing or doings so well worthy ofneighborly interest that Mrs. Lathrop left her bread in the oven andflew to satisfy her curiosity.

  She found her friend warming her feet by the kitchen stove, and onelook at her radiant countenance sufficed.

  "You found a baby!"

  Susan upraised supremely joyful eyes.

  "No," she replied, "but I've bought the weepin' lion!"

  Mrs. Lathrop sat suddenly down.

  "You never saw anythin' so grand in all your life! He rubbed the'Blank' off with a wet cloth 'n' wrote in the 'Henry' with me standin'right there. I never see anythin' that went right through me that waybefore. Puttin' on 'Henry' seemed to bring the lion right into thefamily, an'--well, you can believe me or not jus' as you please, Mrs.Lathrop, but I up 'n' begin to cry right then 'n' there. The monumentman made me sit down on a uncut block 'n' lean my back up against aNo-Cross-no-Crown, 'n' while I sat there he chalked in father's birth'n' death 'n' 'Erected by his devoted daughter Susan,' 'n' at that Istood right up 'n' said 't I 'd take it, 'n' it wasn't no hastydecision, neither, f'r after I 'd made up my mind I couldn't see nogood reason for continuin' to sit there 'n' draw frost out o' granite'n' into my shoulder-blades jus' for the looks o' the thing."

  "But about the ba--" said Mrs. Lathrop.

  "Oh, the baby 'll have to go. I told you all along 't it had to be oneor t' other an' in the end it's the lion as has come out on top. Iguess I was n't cut out to be a mother like I was a daughter. I know't I never wanted a baby for myself half like I 've wanted that lionfor my dead 'n' gone father. Do you know, Mrs. Lathrop, I do believe't I had a persentiment the first time I ever see that lion. Suthin'sort o' crep' right up my back, 'n' I 'm jus' sure 't folks 'll comefrom miles roun' to see it. I guess it's the Finger o' Fate. When youcome to think o' it, it 's all for the best jus' the way 't it 's comeout. The baby 'd 'a' grown up an' gone off somewhere, an' the lion 'llstay right where you put him, for he 's so heavy that the monument mansays we 'll have to drive piles all down aroun' father. Then, too,maybe I could n't 'a' managed a boy an' I can scour that lion all Iwant to. 'N' I will scour him too,--nobody need n't suppose 't I'vepaid three hunderd dollars f'r anythin' to let it get mossy. I'veinvited the monument man 'n' his wife to come 'n' visit me while he'sgettin' the lion in place, 'n' he says he's so pleased over me 'n'nobody else gettin' it 't he's goin' to give me a paper sayin' 't whenI die he'll chop my date in f'r nothin'. I tell you what, Mrs.Lathrop, I certainly am glad 't I've got the sense to know when I'mwell off, 'n' I cert'nly do feel that in this particular case I'mmighty lucky. So all 's well 't ends well."

  Mrs. Lathrop nodded.