There was that about Gloria which compelled a close scrutiny5, under the brim of her hat seemed the very point of vantage, while Tom—one would hate to scrutinize6 Tom. Even the friendliest notice would seem rude if too closely given. He was not bashful, really, nor was he in any way stupid, on the contrary, his alert mind that only flashed out in moments of unchecked enthusiasm was the magnet that held Gloria Doane to his companionship, ever since they had both toddled7 off to their first battle with learning, in the back room of Miss Mary Drake’s Fancy Store. But few others understood Tom, they were generally too busy condemning8 Gloria’s lack of discrimination in her selection of such a companion.
Besides those shadowy blue eyes Tom also had freckles—a real saddle of them across his nose; splendid, healthy, ginger9 brown freckles. They were rather unfair to the nose, however, destroying what might have been an aristocratic outline; but freckles are like that—ruthless when once they get a footing. Being tall, having freckles and possessing a musically liquid voice, gave Tom his chief claim to personality, but his own mother called him Tommy-lad and declared he was a fine, upstanding little youngster.
Just as Gloria Doane had a father and no mother, so Tom Whitely had a mother and no father. This similarity of parental10 privation may have forged the bond of companionship stronger; at any rate, Gloria and Tom were chums.
All the joys of country life ever piped in poet’s tunes11 would be flat and monotonous12 if unshared by a chum. You may talk of the music of the birds and the magic of the running brook13, even of the glory of wild daisy fields and the beauty of sovereign sunsets, but to youth, to the eager young and even to childhood, these would be all rather stupid in solitude14. There is no solitude in the city—that can be said in its favor. Even a sick boy or girl may be shut up in narrow quarters there, but somehow the hum of companionship will reach in and sometimes cheer. But in the country it is very different.
Without a chum would be like being without a roof, or even without a family dog. That life around a fishing village is not apt, however, to be so solitary15 as is found inland, and it was in the seaside town of Barbend that our interesting little friends lived.
Vacation had been particularly merry; picnics, lawn parties, launch trips and even city scouting16 parties filled the days with continual change and thrilling variety. Tom had earned more than ever before in any vacation, and Gloria felt like a pinwheel revolving17 in golden sprayed breezes of good times and surprise adventures. Only a few weeks remained now, then the new adventure of fresh school days, with brand new programmes and mysterious possibilities in new teachers (two were due at Barbend this year), these delights, in spite of dreaded18 routine and perhaps hated studies, beckoned19 every girl and boy in the township; to say nothing of the hurried last stitches being put in new blouses for the boys and into new dresses for the girls, by anxious mothers.
The launch Finnan-Laddie was lapping the dock just after Gloria had stepped ashore20, and Tom happened to be passing from the swamp with a great basket of pond lilies for his next day’s sales. Automatically they fell into step, if that could be said of their peculiar21 motion, Gloria sort of easing into Tom’s shuffle22 with a queer little grace note trick that kept the tempo23 going.
No greetings were exchanged. Would one say hello to the sun, or to the moon or even to some familiar star?
“How did you make out?” asked Gloria, eagerly.
“All right,” replied Tom.
“Sure.”
“It’s a wonder you weren’t killed.”
Tom grinned. “That wasn’t anything.”
“It wasn’t!” Gloria’s voice boomed. “Well, if it wasn’t, then I don’t ever want to see another bicycle spill.”
“Not even at the races?”
“You saw my basket go, didn’t you?”
“I should say I did. I thought it would never stop bumping over the stones until it went straight into the brook. But, Tom, honest, you ought to be more careful.”
“Oh, listen who’s talking!”
“Just the same, I never ride over that hill with a clothes basket full of pond lilies and an arm full of papers.”
“But you do ride over there with trees full of blossoms—”
“Oh, well. That was only when we had to get the school decorated—”
“And this was only when I had a big order—”
They laughed, gave in and changed the subject.
“What if your mother finds out?” persisted Gloria.
“She won’t.”
“A lot of folks saw you. They were down waiting for the launch.”
“Well, ’twasn’t anything.”
“Tom Whitely! You almost rolled over on the railroad track and Mrs. Trivett nearly had a heart spell.”
“Oh, Mrs. Trivett!”
“But she talks more than half of the town.”
“Who listens to her?”
“Folks can’t help it. She’s so—pesky.” Gloria dropped a spray of golden rod.
“My mother never bothers with her.”
“But you know, Tom, others listen to her, and then—then. Just suppose someone tells your mother you rolled down that hill when the Flyer was whistling—”
“Say, Glo. Who’s been stringing you?”
“Tom Whitely, that’s no way to talk.” Gloria’s nose seemed to sniff26 her hat brim, and her black eyes flashed at the willows27 they were passing.
“Oh, I didn’t mean it.” Tom’s voice was caressing28 now. His eyes blinked and he changed his big basket to the other arm in spite of Gloria’s blue gingham dress and her own armful of sweet-flag roots being on that side. There was plenty of room now, however, for she had edged off toward the stone wall.
The road turned at the creek—Tom would go one way and Gloria the other, but before they separated they had made up the momentary29 difference. Just as it began it ended. Neither boy nor girl was subject to any nonsensical apologies or explanations over such silly little trifles.
“If I were you, Tom, just the same, I’d tell my mother I had a spill and that your bike is broken. Then—”
“Oh, yes, I know, Gloria. That’s easy enough to say. But you don’t know my mother.”
“I do so.”
“I mean, like I know her.”
“Of course I don’t know her as well as you do.”
“Then you can’t know how she fusses. I don’t want her to know I had that spill, Gloria, and if you hear folks talking about it just hush30 them up. I didn’t get hurt—”
“You did, too, Tom Whitely!”
“Just the same, I’ll bet you don’t swim for a week.”
“I don’t have to.”
“All right,” conceded Gloria with a show of impatience32. “Of course you don’t have to—”
“Say, Glo!” Again Tom’s voice mellowed33. “You know I’m not—not forgetting your kindness. I always count on that,” he said a little awkwardly. “But you see how it is. If mother ever hears I spilled I’ll have the awfullest time getting her to believe that I don’t spill every day just for fun, you know. Mother’s a brick, but gosh! She can stew34.”
“I know, Tom, and you’re just a brick, too, trying to save her.” Gloria always talked very slowly when a parent was under discussion. “I know how it is with my dad—”
“Oh, you’re dad is a peach.”
“He sure is. A perfect peach.” Every word was beautifully rounded and just rolled from Gloria’s lips like solid balls of tone. “I often think how your mother has to be father and mother, and my dad has to be both, just the same.” She stopped and almost sighed, but Gloria Doane was not the sighing kind. “Anyhow, Tom, we’ve got a wonderful pair between us,” she boomed.
“That’s right.” Tom shifted the basket again and the effect of the much discussed spill was not completely hidden in the frown that scattered35 with the effort, his freckles. “That’s why, Glo, I hate to worry mother.”
“Then take my advice.” Gloria laughed that she should indulge in advice. “Tell her about it.” Tom attempted to speak but the girl hurried on. “That is, tell her something about it.”
“Well, maybe.”
“And, Tom,” her sweet-flag roots were shedding their damp grains of earth over her checked gingham, “how are you going to get the bike fixed?”
“Got to wait—till I earn it, extra.”
“Then you’ll have to walk.”
“That’s nothing.”
“It will take twice as long.”
“I know. But the chain’s broke.”
“Where is it?”
“Up at Nash’s.”
“How much will it cost?”
“How much do you think?”
“I couldn’t guess. Millie had hers overhauled36 and the bill was ten dollars.”
“Gee whiz! Glad mine won’t be that much. But it will be three dollars,” said Tom ruefully.
“I’ll tell you, Tom. I’ve got five dollars—”
“As if I’d borrow money from a girl!”
“It isn’t borrowing. I’m just offering it to you till you earn it,” insisted Gloria. “It doesn’t make one bit of difference to me.”
Tom looked thoughtfully far ahead—clear past the blackberry clump37. He needed that wheel. He was earning something worth while. He carried all the orders for the vegetable store in his handle-bar basket. Gloria saw his indecision and eagerly followed it.
“Go ahead, Tom. This is my own money—”
“Oh, I know that. You wouldn’t offer anyone else’s.”
“And I’ve just got it along with me. The folks who had our launch out just paid—”
“Wouldn’t that be your dad’s?”
“No. He owes it to me and said I was to collect it.”
“Of course, I know,” agreed Tom affably.
“But I can earn it—”
“If you don’t take it, Tom, perhaps you will never get another chance to refuse.”
“Why? Going up in the air?”
“No, not up in the air—but perhaps,” Gloria’s face suddenly became a mysterious casket of secrets, “I’ve got a big thing to tell you.”
Tom looked at his companion eagerly. It was as if his boyish sense of alarm had sounded a gong some place around his indefinite heart. “Going away?” he asked very slowly.
“It’s more than that.” Girls love to tease boys. “But I won’t tell you one word now. Are you going to take this money?”
She was holding out her brown hand; on its palm rested two green bills.
Tom set his basket down and looked very serious. He kicked his sneakers into the soft earth, he swung his uninjured arm like a pendulum38, he opened and closed his lips a number of times. Then he put out his hand and took the money over.
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1
freckles
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| n.雀斑，斑点( freckle的名词复数 ) | |
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meek
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| adj.温顺的，逆来顺受的 | |
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floppy
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| adj.松软的，衰弱的 | |
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quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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scrutiny
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| n.详细检查，仔细观察 | |
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scrutinize
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| n.详细检查，细读 | |
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toddled
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| v.（幼儿等）东倒西歪地走( toddle的过去式和过去分词 )；蹒跚行走；溜达；散步 | |
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8
condemning
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| v.（通常因道义上的原因而）谴责( condemn的现在分词 )；宣判；宣布…不能使用；迫使…陷于不幸的境地 | |
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9
ginger
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| n.姜，精力，淡赤黄色；adj.淡赤黄色的；vt.使活泼，使有生气 | |
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parental
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| adj.父母的；父的；母的 | |
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tunes
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| n.曲调，曲子( tune的名词复数 )v.调音( tune的第三人称单数 )；调整；（给收音机、电视等）调谐；使协调 | |
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monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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13
brook
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| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
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solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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scouting
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| 守候活动，童子军的活动 | |
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revolving
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| adj.旋转的，轮转式的；循环的v.（使）旋转( revolve的现在分词 )；细想 | |
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18
dreaded
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| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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beckoned
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| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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shuffle
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| n.拖著脚走，洗纸牌；v.拖曳，慢吞吞地走 | |
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23
tempo
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| n.(音乐的)速度；节奏，行进速度 | |
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24
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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gulp
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| vt.吞咽，大口地吸（气）；vi.哽住；n.吞咽 | |
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26
sniff
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| vi.嗅…味道；抽鼻涕；对嗤之以鼻，蔑视 | |
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27
willows
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| n.柳树( willow的名词复数 )；柳木 | |
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28
caressing
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| 爱抚的，表现爱情的，亲切的 | |
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momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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30
hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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31
scoffed
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| 嘲笑，嘲弄( scoff的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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32
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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33
mellowed
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| （使）成熟( mellow的过去式和过去分词 )； 使色彩更加柔和，使酒更加醇香 | |
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34
stew
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| n.炖汤，焖，烦恼；v.炖汤，焖，忧虑 | |
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35
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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overhauled
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| v.彻底检查( overhaul的过去式和过去分词 )；大修；赶上；超越 | |
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37
clump
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| n.树丛，草丛；vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
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38
pendulum
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| n.摆，钟摆 | |
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