Christmas gold, p.467
Christmas Gold, page 467
"But she is resolved not to permit any visiting. To be sure, time may soften this condition; yet, if Florence goes, she ought to abide by her promise."
"Yes," answered the child meekly.
"It does seem a remarkable opportunity. I do not know as it would be wise to refuse."
Ah, if one could know what was for the best! The days flew by so rapidly, there was so much talking, but never any coming to a conclusion. Joe was loudly on Florence's side. So was Hal, for that matter; but from more thoughtful motives. And Granny was too conscientious to stand in the way of the child's advancement, much as she loved her, and longed to keep her.
Then, on Friday evening they sat on the old stone doorstep, a sad group, going over the subject in low, sad tones, the pain of parting already in their voices. Granny's vehemence had subsided. Hal had Florence's soft hand in his, Kit's head was in her lap, and Charlie sat at her feet.
Should she go? When all the mists and glamor of desire cleared away, as they did now in the calm star-light, with God watching up above, she felt that it would be nobler and truer to remain with them, and share the poverty and the trials. For to have them ill, dying perhaps, without looking upon their dear faces, with no last words or last kisses to remember, was more than she could bear. Would it not seem selfish to go off to luxury and indolence, when they must struggle on with toil and care and poverty?
"Oh!" she exclaimed, going to Granny's arms, with a sob. "I believe I cannot leave you when it comes to absolute parting. We have been happy, in spite of the troubles and wants. I should miss you all so much! And, if I could get to be a teacher, I might help a little."
Granny held her to her heart, and kissed the wet face again and again.
"My dear darling, God bless you!" she said brokenly.
Flossy thought herself a very heroic girl. There was a great lump in her throat, and she could not utter another word. It was a born princess turning her back on the palace.
Hal and Joe eyed each other inquisitively. It was the noblest thing she could do, but would it be the wisest?
Chapter XI.
Out of the Old Home-Nest
Table of Contents
But then it all looked so different by daylight! The old rickety house, the noisy children, the general shabbiness, and the life of hard work and dissatisfaction, stretching out interminably. For, to the eyes of fifteen, it seems a long way to fifty; and roses are so much more tempting than thorns!
Hal found her out in the garden crying.
"Dear Flossy," he began tenderly, "I think you had better go, after all. When the parting is over, Granny will be reconciled, and understand that it is for the best."
"But I ought to stay at home and help," she sobbed. "If I could do both"—
"That is not possible;" and Hal tried to smile away the tears in his eyes.
"It looks so—so foolish not to be able to make up one's mind."
"It is a hard case, and there is so much on Mrs. Osgood's side."
"Hal, what would you do?" and Florence glanced up earnestly.
"My darling, I think you want to go, and that you would always be unhappy and regretful if you staid. We can't help all our feelings and wants and tastes; and it seems as if you were born for a lady. That is natural too."
"But I do love you all, and dear Granny"—
"We shall never doubt that," he answered re-assuringly. "We shall often sit on the old doorstep, and talk about you, and try to imagine you in the beautiful house, with the pictures and the piano, and all the nice things you will be learning. It will be just lovely for us too. Then you can write every summer."
"And perhaps I shall come back when I am a woman!"
At this Florence brightened wonderfully, but after a moment said, "You don't think it very selfish, Hal?"
"My dear, no," replied brave little Hal. "I am sure it would be a great trial for me to give up any thing so splendid."
"If you would only tell Granny—again."
Hal nodded; for he couldn't say any more just then.
Granny wiped the tears out of her old eyes with the corner of her checked apron, and trod upon the cat, stretched out upon the floor, who added her pathetic howl to the fund of general sorrow.
So it came to pass, when Mrs. Osgood made her appearance, Florence was quite elegant and composed. The lady was very, very gracious. She expatiated on the great advantage this step would be to Florence, the pleasure to her, and the relief to Granny to know that one of her flock was provided for. Of course, she understood it was hard to part with her; but they had so many left, that in a little while they would hardly miss her. Then they would hear about her, and no doubt come to rejoice in her good fortune.
Indeed, by the time Mr. Howard arrived, she had talked them into quite a reasonable frame of mind. She promised to treat her like a daughter, educate her handsomely; so that, in case of her death, Florence would be able to take care of herself. If, at the end of the first year, she should feel unwilling to remain, Mrs. Osgood would not oppose her return.
Granny was calm, but very grave, while these preliminaries were being discussed. Hal kept swallowing over great sobs that wrenched his heart at every breath. The agreement was concluded and signed.
"Now, my dear, put on your hat," said Mrs. Osgood in her sweetest tone. "Brief partings are the kindest; are they not, Mr. Howard? I am much obliged for your assistance in this matter; and you must permit me to offer you a small donation for your pretty little church."
Granny's tears streamed afresh; but Hal managed her with delicate tenderness. Florence kissed them all many times. Dot wanted to go in the "boofer wagon;" while Kit and Charlie looked on, with tearful, wondering eyes, not half understanding the importance of the step.
Then—she was driving away. One last, long look. Was that the waving of her pretty white hand? Their eyes were too dim to see.
"It seems to me that she will come back to the old house some time," said Hal, breaking the sad silence.
Granny turned away, and shut herself in the best room. For a long while they heard nothing of her. But God was listening to the heart-broken prayer, which he answered in his own time and his own way.
"So Flossy's gone!" exclaimed Joe soberly that night. "I can't make it seem a bit real. Air-castles don't generally turn into the substantial. After the king's ball I guess she will come home in glass slippers, and we will have her giving us loads of good advice. It is so sure to be true, Granny, that we can afford to take a little comfort meanwhile."
Granny did not laugh as usual. Kit chewed his thumb vigorously, and saw piles of violins in the distance.
But they confessed to being very lonesome on Sunday. Charlie declined wearing Flossy's second-best hat; for she insisted that she "felt it in her bones" that Florence would return, which Joe declared was incipient rheumatism, and that she must take a steam-bath over the spout of the tea-kettle. Yet secretly in his heart he had greater faith in the mythical sea-captain who was to take him off with flying colors.
About a month afterwards they received a letter from Mrs. Osgood. Joe displayed the handsome monogram in great triumph, and begged Mr. Terry to let him run home with it at noon. They all crowded round him with eager eyes.
"It's Granny's letter," he said, handing it to her.
"Read it, Hal," she rejoined tremulously.
Mrs. Osgood gave a delightful account of Florence; declaring that she already loved her as a mother, and, the homesickness being over, she was studying industriously. There was no doubt but that she would make a very fine musician; and it was extremely fortunate that such talent could be rescued in time to make the most of it. Then Florence added a few words, to say that she was very happy, and that it seemed like fairy-land, every thing was so beautiful. She enclosed a gift for them all, and said good-by until next year.
They felt then how surely they were divided; yet they all rejoiced in Flossy's good fortune. Mr. and Mrs. Howard were very kind; but I think Hal's tender love did more towards comforting Granny than all the rest. She kept telling herself that it was foolish to grieve; yet there was a dumb ache way down in the poor old heart, an empty corner where one birdling had flown out of the home-nest.
The affair had created quite an excitement in Madison. Joe pictured it in the most gorgeous style, and made Mrs. Osgood an actual fairy godmother. Mrs. Van Wyck, who still held a little grudge against her, insisted that it was not half as grand as the Kenneths represented it.
"Now, Mr. Howard," she said at one of the parsonage gatherings, "is it really true? Did this woman adopt that flyaway Kenneth girl, or only take her as a sort of servant? And is she so very rich?"
"Mrs. Osgood is a lady of means and position, and is connected with some of the most reliable people in New York. She has legally adopted Florence, and I was a witness to the agreement. It certainly was a rather remarkable event."
"Well, she's nothing but a bunch of vanity, anyhow. She'll make one of the high-flyers, without a grain of sense, and I dare say elope with the coachman. I wish the woman joy of her bargain;" and Mrs. Van Wyck set her cap-streamers in violent motion.
Autumn came on apace. Poor Granny was grievously perplexed when she entered the clothing-campaign. Florence's fertile brain and handy fingers were sorely missed. Granny did her best; but the tasty touches the child was wont to add, that transformed the commonest garb into certain prettiness, were lacking now. Still, Charlie thought it a godsend to have so many clothes all at once, having fallen heir to Flossy's discarded heritage.
"Granny!" exclaimed Hal, rushing in breathless one afternoon, "Mr. Kinsey says he will take all my chickens to market! Isn't that splendid? He is going on Friday, and again next Tuesday; and he showed me how to make a crate to pack them in. Now is the very time, he says."
"But we'll have to kill 'em, Hal!" exclaimed Granny aghast.
"To be sure: that's the hard part of it, isn't it;" and Hal looked sober.
"They seem a'most like human beings. They patter round after Dot, and talk to her in their queer fashion, and eat out of her hand. But, then, we couldn't keep them all through the winter."
"We shall save the pets. There are some that I could not spare. But you must not grow chicken-hearted, Granny;" and he laughed softly at her.
"Deary me! Somehow I can't bear to part with any thing any more. What a foolish old cretur!"
"The dearest old creature in the world!" and Hal kissed her. "I wouldn't have you changed a mite, except, that, when you were almost a hundred, I'd like to set you back so that we could keep you always."
"I sha'n't be worth it, Hal;" and she shook her head.
"I shall have to stay home from school on Tuesday. I am quite anxious to know what our fortune will be, and whether it has paid."
For Hal had gone back to school, as there seemed no business opening for him. Mr. Terry had raised Joe's wages; and, one way and another, they managed to get along quite comfortably. Hal tried to make up for the absence of Florence, and comforted Granny in many tender, girlish ways. He would pull her cap straight, and find her glasses and her thimble, two things that were forever going astray. Then he borrowed books from one and another to read aloud evenings; and, though Granny sat in the chimney-corner and nodded, she always declared that it was the loveliest thing in the world, and that she didn't believe but Hal would write a book some day himself, he was so powerful fond of them.
To Charlie and Kit this was a great enjoyment. Indeed, it seemed as if in most things they listened more readily than they ever had to Florence. Dear, sweet-souled Hal! Your uses and duties in the world were manifold. And yet it tries our faith to see such fine gold dropped into the crucible. Is it those whom the Lord loveth?
They had a great time on Thursday. Joe was up early in the morning, as he thought there was some fun in making an onslaught upon the army of chickens; so when Hal and Granny stepped over the threshold, they saw a great pile of decapitated fowls.
"Why, Hal, you'll make a mint of money!" exclaimed Joe. "I suppose you mean to put it in government bonds."
Hal only laughed.
But he and Granny were busy as bees all day. About four o'clock Mr. Kinsey came over to see how the packing progressed.
"There are just two dozen," said Hal; "and I shall have two dozen again next week."
"They're beauties too! Why, I believe they go ahead of mine. You've plucked them nicely. Poultry's pretty high this year; retailing at twenty-five and twenty-eight, I heard."
They weighed them, and then laid them snugly in the crate; plump and yellow, looking almost good enough to eat without a pinch of salt, Mr. Kinsey said.
"Now I shall send them all over to the station, and they'll go through in the freight-train. Jim will soon be here with the wagon."
Joe and Hal counted up the possible profit that evening. They had raised, with all their broods, sixty-five chickens. The actual outlay for food had been seventeen dollars; and Hal had sold eggs to the value of two dollars and a half.
"It's better than keeping store, I do believe!" ejaculated Joe. "Hal, you have a genius for farming."
"Does raising chickens prove it?"
"If a hundred of corn-meal costs two fifty, what will the biggest chanticleer in the lot come to? There's a question for you, Granny."
"Why, it would depend on—how much he weighed," said Granny cautiously.
"Oh, no! it would depend on how you cooked him. In my kitchen he'd come to pot-pie, according to the double rule of a good hot fire."
"You won't sell 'em all, Hal?" said Charlie anxiously.
"No: we will have a little Thanksgiving for ourselves."
Granny sighed. They all knew of whom she was thinking,—a sweet, fair face dropped out of the circle. Now that Flossy was gone, they remembered only her pleasant qualities; and it seemed as if Joe did not care half so much for making a noise when she was not here to be teased.
Mr. Kinsey did not return until Saturday, but he came over with a smiling face.
"Royal luck for you, Hal!" he said in his hearty tone. "I've half a mind to make you guess, and keep all that is over."
"But I might guess high;" and a bright smile brought sunshine into the boy's face.
"Try it, then."
"Thirty dollars," ventured Hal, rather hesitatingly. "Though I don't believe it is as much as that."
"Thirty-two dollars; and the same man has spoken for your next lot. They were about the handsomest chickens in the market."
"Oh! isn't that splendid?" said Hal. "Why, I can hardly believe it!"
"There's the money. I've always observed that there's no eye-salve like money;" and Mr. Kinsey laughed.
"You ought to have something for your trouble."
"No, my fine little fellow. I shall only take out the freight. I'm glad to see you so energetic; and I do hope you will prosper as well in every thing you undertake."
Hal thanked Mr. Kinsey again and again, and insisted that he should come over and do some work for the farmer; but that gentleman only laughed.
"Have your second lot ready on Tuesday evening," said he, as he wished them good-day.
The next was still more of a success, for they netted thirty-four dollars. Hal was overjoyed.
"That certainly is 'bully!' our dear Flossy to the contrary," declared Joe. "Why, I'm so glad that I could stand on my head or the tip of my little finger. What will you do with it all? Granny, was there ever so much money in this old house? It's lucky that I have a pistol to keep guard."
Granny smiled, but a tear crept to the corner of her eye.
"Now let us reckon it all up," said Hal. "Here is my book."
Every item had been put down in the most systematic manner. They made a list of the expenses, and added the column, then subtracted it from the whole sum.
"Forty-seven dollars!"
"All that clear!" asked Granny in amaze.
"Yes. Isn't it wonderful?"
Joe could hold in no longer; but took a tour over the chairs, as if they had been a part of the flying trapeze. Hal's eyes were as large as saucers,—small ones.
"I wouldn't a' believed it! But you've been very ekernomical, Hal, and used every thing, and raised so much corn"—
"And the buckwheat-field was so nice for them! If we can only keep them comfortable through the winter, and have them lay lots of eggs!"
"It's astonishing how contrary they are when eggs are scarce," said Joe gravely. "What do you suppose is the reason, Charlie?"
"Forty-seven dollars!" said Charlie, loftily ignoring the last remark.
"Enough to buy me a fiddle," Kit remarked.
"It will have to buy a good many things," said Hal. "I am so very, very thankful for it."
Granny insisted that Hal should have a suit of clothes, and finally persuaded him into buying a complete outfit. That took twenty-three dollars. Then some boots for Kit, shoes for Charley, a pretty dress for Dot, a barrel of flour, and there was very little of it left.
"But it was really magnificent!" said Hal with a sigh of pleasure. "I shall try it again next year, if you don't mind the trouble, Granny."
Granny said that she should not.
Their Christmas festival was quiet compared to the last one. Flossy had helped make them gay then, and there had been the wonderful shoe. Would any thing ever be quite as brilliant again?
"It almost seems as if Flossy was dead, doesn't it?" Hal said softly to granny. "And yet I suppose she has had lots of presents, and is—very—happy."
"God keep her safely," answered Granny.
Before spring some changes came to Madison. Grandmother Kinsey died, having reached a good old age; and Mr. Kinsey resolved to put his pet project into execution,—removing to the West, and farming on a large scale. Everybody was very sorry to have them go. It seemed to Granny as if she were losing her best friend. Ah! by and by the world would look very wide and desolate.
But the Kenneths had a little recompense for their loss. In casting about for a parting gift to Hal, fortune seemed to put an excellent one right in his way. In having some dealings with Farmer Peters, he took the small piece of land that Hal had made so profitable, and deeded it to the boy.
"It is not much," he said; "but it may help along a little. I only wish you were going out West with me. That's the place for boys!"
"Yes," answered the child meekly.
"It does seem a remarkable opportunity. I do not know as it would be wise to refuse."
Ah, if one could know what was for the best! The days flew by so rapidly, there was so much talking, but never any coming to a conclusion. Joe was loudly on Florence's side. So was Hal, for that matter; but from more thoughtful motives. And Granny was too conscientious to stand in the way of the child's advancement, much as she loved her, and longed to keep her.
Then, on Friday evening they sat on the old stone doorstep, a sad group, going over the subject in low, sad tones, the pain of parting already in their voices. Granny's vehemence had subsided. Hal had Florence's soft hand in his, Kit's head was in her lap, and Charlie sat at her feet.
Should she go? When all the mists and glamor of desire cleared away, as they did now in the calm star-light, with God watching up above, she felt that it would be nobler and truer to remain with them, and share the poverty and the trials. For to have them ill, dying perhaps, without looking upon their dear faces, with no last words or last kisses to remember, was more than she could bear. Would it not seem selfish to go off to luxury and indolence, when they must struggle on with toil and care and poverty?
"Oh!" she exclaimed, going to Granny's arms, with a sob. "I believe I cannot leave you when it comes to absolute parting. We have been happy, in spite of the troubles and wants. I should miss you all so much! And, if I could get to be a teacher, I might help a little."
Granny held her to her heart, and kissed the wet face again and again.
"My dear darling, God bless you!" she said brokenly.
Flossy thought herself a very heroic girl. There was a great lump in her throat, and she could not utter another word. It was a born princess turning her back on the palace.
Hal and Joe eyed each other inquisitively. It was the noblest thing she could do, but would it be the wisest?
Chapter XI.
Out of the Old Home-Nest
Table of Contents
But then it all looked so different by daylight! The old rickety house, the noisy children, the general shabbiness, and the life of hard work and dissatisfaction, stretching out interminably. For, to the eyes of fifteen, it seems a long way to fifty; and roses are so much more tempting than thorns!
Hal found her out in the garden crying.
"Dear Flossy," he began tenderly, "I think you had better go, after all. When the parting is over, Granny will be reconciled, and understand that it is for the best."
"But I ought to stay at home and help," she sobbed. "If I could do both"—
"That is not possible;" and Hal tried to smile away the tears in his eyes.
"It looks so—so foolish not to be able to make up one's mind."
"It is a hard case, and there is so much on Mrs. Osgood's side."
"Hal, what would you do?" and Florence glanced up earnestly.
"My darling, I think you want to go, and that you would always be unhappy and regretful if you staid. We can't help all our feelings and wants and tastes; and it seems as if you were born for a lady. That is natural too."
"But I do love you all, and dear Granny"—
"We shall never doubt that," he answered re-assuringly. "We shall often sit on the old doorstep, and talk about you, and try to imagine you in the beautiful house, with the pictures and the piano, and all the nice things you will be learning. It will be just lovely for us too. Then you can write every summer."
"And perhaps I shall come back when I am a woman!"
At this Florence brightened wonderfully, but after a moment said, "You don't think it very selfish, Hal?"
"My dear, no," replied brave little Hal. "I am sure it would be a great trial for me to give up any thing so splendid."
"If you would only tell Granny—again."
Hal nodded; for he couldn't say any more just then.
Granny wiped the tears out of her old eyes with the corner of her checked apron, and trod upon the cat, stretched out upon the floor, who added her pathetic howl to the fund of general sorrow.
So it came to pass, when Mrs. Osgood made her appearance, Florence was quite elegant and composed. The lady was very, very gracious. She expatiated on the great advantage this step would be to Florence, the pleasure to her, and the relief to Granny to know that one of her flock was provided for. Of course, she understood it was hard to part with her; but they had so many left, that in a little while they would hardly miss her. Then they would hear about her, and no doubt come to rejoice in her good fortune.
Indeed, by the time Mr. Howard arrived, she had talked them into quite a reasonable frame of mind. She promised to treat her like a daughter, educate her handsomely; so that, in case of her death, Florence would be able to take care of herself. If, at the end of the first year, she should feel unwilling to remain, Mrs. Osgood would not oppose her return.
Granny was calm, but very grave, while these preliminaries were being discussed. Hal kept swallowing over great sobs that wrenched his heart at every breath. The agreement was concluded and signed.
"Now, my dear, put on your hat," said Mrs. Osgood in her sweetest tone. "Brief partings are the kindest; are they not, Mr. Howard? I am much obliged for your assistance in this matter; and you must permit me to offer you a small donation for your pretty little church."
Granny's tears streamed afresh; but Hal managed her with delicate tenderness. Florence kissed them all many times. Dot wanted to go in the "boofer wagon;" while Kit and Charlie looked on, with tearful, wondering eyes, not half understanding the importance of the step.
Then—she was driving away. One last, long look. Was that the waving of her pretty white hand? Their eyes were too dim to see.
"It seems to me that she will come back to the old house some time," said Hal, breaking the sad silence.
Granny turned away, and shut herself in the best room. For a long while they heard nothing of her. But God was listening to the heart-broken prayer, which he answered in his own time and his own way.
"So Flossy's gone!" exclaimed Joe soberly that night. "I can't make it seem a bit real. Air-castles don't generally turn into the substantial. After the king's ball I guess she will come home in glass slippers, and we will have her giving us loads of good advice. It is so sure to be true, Granny, that we can afford to take a little comfort meanwhile."
Granny did not laugh as usual. Kit chewed his thumb vigorously, and saw piles of violins in the distance.
But they confessed to being very lonesome on Sunday. Charlie declined wearing Flossy's second-best hat; for she insisted that she "felt it in her bones" that Florence would return, which Joe declared was incipient rheumatism, and that she must take a steam-bath over the spout of the tea-kettle. Yet secretly in his heart he had greater faith in the mythical sea-captain who was to take him off with flying colors.
About a month afterwards they received a letter from Mrs. Osgood. Joe displayed the handsome monogram in great triumph, and begged Mr. Terry to let him run home with it at noon. They all crowded round him with eager eyes.
"It's Granny's letter," he said, handing it to her.
"Read it, Hal," she rejoined tremulously.
Mrs. Osgood gave a delightful account of Florence; declaring that she already loved her as a mother, and, the homesickness being over, she was studying industriously. There was no doubt but that she would make a very fine musician; and it was extremely fortunate that such talent could be rescued in time to make the most of it. Then Florence added a few words, to say that she was very happy, and that it seemed like fairy-land, every thing was so beautiful. She enclosed a gift for them all, and said good-by until next year.
They felt then how surely they were divided; yet they all rejoiced in Flossy's good fortune. Mr. and Mrs. Howard were very kind; but I think Hal's tender love did more towards comforting Granny than all the rest. She kept telling herself that it was foolish to grieve; yet there was a dumb ache way down in the poor old heart, an empty corner where one birdling had flown out of the home-nest.
The affair had created quite an excitement in Madison. Joe pictured it in the most gorgeous style, and made Mrs. Osgood an actual fairy godmother. Mrs. Van Wyck, who still held a little grudge against her, insisted that it was not half as grand as the Kenneths represented it.
"Now, Mr. Howard," she said at one of the parsonage gatherings, "is it really true? Did this woman adopt that flyaway Kenneth girl, or only take her as a sort of servant? And is she so very rich?"
"Mrs. Osgood is a lady of means and position, and is connected with some of the most reliable people in New York. She has legally adopted Florence, and I was a witness to the agreement. It certainly was a rather remarkable event."
"Well, she's nothing but a bunch of vanity, anyhow. She'll make one of the high-flyers, without a grain of sense, and I dare say elope with the coachman. I wish the woman joy of her bargain;" and Mrs. Van Wyck set her cap-streamers in violent motion.
Autumn came on apace. Poor Granny was grievously perplexed when she entered the clothing-campaign. Florence's fertile brain and handy fingers were sorely missed. Granny did her best; but the tasty touches the child was wont to add, that transformed the commonest garb into certain prettiness, were lacking now. Still, Charlie thought it a godsend to have so many clothes all at once, having fallen heir to Flossy's discarded heritage.
"Granny!" exclaimed Hal, rushing in breathless one afternoon, "Mr. Kinsey says he will take all my chickens to market! Isn't that splendid? He is going on Friday, and again next Tuesday; and he showed me how to make a crate to pack them in. Now is the very time, he says."
"But we'll have to kill 'em, Hal!" exclaimed Granny aghast.
"To be sure: that's the hard part of it, isn't it;" and Hal looked sober.
"They seem a'most like human beings. They patter round after Dot, and talk to her in their queer fashion, and eat out of her hand. But, then, we couldn't keep them all through the winter."
"We shall save the pets. There are some that I could not spare. But you must not grow chicken-hearted, Granny;" and he laughed softly at her.
"Deary me! Somehow I can't bear to part with any thing any more. What a foolish old cretur!"
"The dearest old creature in the world!" and Hal kissed her. "I wouldn't have you changed a mite, except, that, when you were almost a hundred, I'd like to set you back so that we could keep you always."
"I sha'n't be worth it, Hal;" and she shook her head.
"I shall have to stay home from school on Tuesday. I am quite anxious to know what our fortune will be, and whether it has paid."
For Hal had gone back to school, as there seemed no business opening for him. Mr. Terry had raised Joe's wages; and, one way and another, they managed to get along quite comfortably. Hal tried to make up for the absence of Florence, and comforted Granny in many tender, girlish ways. He would pull her cap straight, and find her glasses and her thimble, two things that were forever going astray. Then he borrowed books from one and another to read aloud evenings; and, though Granny sat in the chimney-corner and nodded, she always declared that it was the loveliest thing in the world, and that she didn't believe but Hal would write a book some day himself, he was so powerful fond of them.
To Charlie and Kit this was a great enjoyment. Indeed, it seemed as if in most things they listened more readily than they ever had to Florence. Dear, sweet-souled Hal! Your uses and duties in the world were manifold. And yet it tries our faith to see such fine gold dropped into the crucible. Is it those whom the Lord loveth?
They had a great time on Thursday. Joe was up early in the morning, as he thought there was some fun in making an onslaught upon the army of chickens; so when Hal and Granny stepped over the threshold, they saw a great pile of decapitated fowls.
"Why, Hal, you'll make a mint of money!" exclaimed Joe. "I suppose you mean to put it in government bonds."
Hal only laughed.
But he and Granny were busy as bees all day. About four o'clock Mr. Kinsey came over to see how the packing progressed.
"There are just two dozen," said Hal; "and I shall have two dozen again next week."
"They're beauties too! Why, I believe they go ahead of mine. You've plucked them nicely. Poultry's pretty high this year; retailing at twenty-five and twenty-eight, I heard."
They weighed them, and then laid them snugly in the crate; plump and yellow, looking almost good enough to eat without a pinch of salt, Mr. Kinsey said.
"Now I shall send them all over to the station, and they'll go through in the freight-train. Jim will soon be here with the wagon."
Joe and Hal counted up the possible profit that evening. They had raised, with all their broods, sixty-five chickens. The actual outlay for food had been seventeen dollars; and Hal had sold eggs to the value of two dollars and a half.
"It's better than keeping store, I do believe!" ejaculated Joe. "Hal, you have a genius for farming."
"Does raising chickens prove it?"
"If a hundred of corn-meal costs two fifty, what will the biggest chanticleer in the lot come to? There's a question for you, Granny."
"Why, it would depend on—how much he weighed," said Granny cautiously.
"Oh, no! it would depend on how you cooked him. In my kitchen he'd come to pot-pie, according to the double rule of a good hot fire."
"You won't sell 'em all, Hal?" said Charlie anxiously.
"No: we will have a little Thanksgiving for ourselves."
Granny sighed. They all knew of whom she was thinking,—a sweet, fair face dropped out of the circle. Now that Flossy was gone, they remembered only her pleasant qualities; and it seemed as if Joe did not care half so much for making a noise when she was not here to be teased.
Mr. Kinsey did not return until Saturday, but he came over with a smiling face.
"Royal luck for you, Hal!" he said in his hearty tone. "I've half a mind to make you guess, and keep all that is over."
"But I might guess high;" and a bright smile brought sunshine into the boy's face.
"Try it, then."
"Thirty dollars," ventured Hal, rather hesitatingly. "Though I don't believe it is as much as that."
"Thirty-two dollars; and the same man has spoken for your next lot. They were about the handsomest chickens in the market."
"Oh! isn't that splendid?" said Hal. "Why, I can hardly believe it!"
"There's the money. I've always observed that there's no eye-salve like money;" and Mr. Kinsey laughed.
"You ought to have something for your trouble."
"No, my fine little fellow. I shall only take out the freight. I'm glad to see you so energetic; and I do hope you will prosper as well in every thing you undertake."
Hal thanked Mr. Kinsey again and again, and insisted that he should come over and do some work for the farmer; but that gentleman only laughed.
"Have your second lot ready on Tuesday evening," said he, as he wished them good-day.
The next was still more of a success, for they netted thirty-four dollars. Hal was overjoyed.
"That certainly is 'bully!' our dear Flossy to the contrary," declared Joe. "Why, I'm so glad that I could stand on my head or the tip of my little finger. What will you do with it all? Granny, was there ever so much money in this old house? It's lucky that I have a pistol to keep guard."
Granny smiled, but a tear crept to the corner of her eye.
"Now let us reckon it all up," said Hal. "Here is my book."
Every item had been put down in the most systematic manner. They made a list of the expenses, and added the column, then subtracted it from the whole sum.
"Forty-seven dollars!"
"All that clear!" asked Granny in amaze.
"Yes. Isn't it wonderful?"
Joe could hold in no longer; but took a tour over the chairs, as if they had been a part of the flying trapeze. Hal's eyes were as large as saucers,—small ones.
"I wouldn't a' believed it! But you've been very ekernomical, Hal, and used every thing, and raised so much corn"—
"And the buckwheat-field was so nice for them! If we can only keep them comfortable through the winter, and have them lay lots of eggs!"
"It's astonishing how contrary they are when eggs are scarce," said Joe gravely. "What do you suppose is the reason, Charlie?"
"Forty-seven dollars!" said Charlie, loftily ignoring the last remark.
"Enough to buy me a fiddle," Kit remarked.
"It will have to buy a good many things," said Hal. "I am so very, very thankful for it."
Granny insisted that Hal should have a suit of clothes, and finally persuaded him into buying a complete outfit. That took twenty-three dollars. Then some boots for Kit, shoes for Charley, a pretty dress for Dot, a barrel of flour, and there was very little of it left.
"But it was really magnificent!" said Hal with a sigh of pleasure. "I shall try it again next year, if you don't mind the trouble, Granny."
Granny said that she should not.
Their Christmas festival was quiet compared to the last one. Flossy had helped make them gay then, and there had been the wonderful shoe. Would any thing ever be quite as brilliant again?
"It almost seems as if Flossy was dead, doesn't it?" Hal said softly to granny. "And yet I suppose she has had lots of presents, and is—very—happy."
"God keep her safely," answered Granny.
Before spring some changes came to Madison. Grandmother Kinsey died, having reached a good old age; and Mr. Kinsey resolved to put his pet project into execution,—removing to the West, and farming on a large scale. Everybody was very sorry to have them go. It seemed to Granny as if she were losing her best friend. Ah! by and by the world would look very wide and desolate.
But the Kenneths had a little recompense for their loss. In casting about for a parting gift to Hal, fortune seemed to put an excellent one right in his way. In having some dealings with Farmer Peters, he took the small piece of land that Hal had made so profitable, and deeded it to the boy.
"It is not much," he said; "but it may help along a little. I only wish you were going out West with me. That's the place for boys!"
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