One Saturday, shortly after, everybody was early afoot in preparation for a picnic up the River. Bobby had on clean starched1 brown linen3 things, and his hair was parted on one side and very smoothly4 brushed across his forehead. His mother had been somewhat inclined to the dark green velvet5 suit with the lace collar, but to his great relief his father had intervened.
"Give the boy a chance," said he, "He'll want to eat peaches and go down in the engine room, and perhaps catch sunfish."
At the wharf6, built along the front of the river at the foot of Main Street, they could see, when they turned the corner at the engine-house, the single sturdy stack of the _Robert O_ pouring forth7 a cloud of gray smoke, while in front of it fluttered the white of the women's dresses.
"We're going to be late," danced Bobby.
"I guess they'll wait for us," replied Mr. Orde easily. "They know what's in this," he smiled, patting the hamper8 he was carrying.
At the wharf they were greeted by a chorus of exclamations10 from a large group of people. Mr. and Mrs. Taylor were there, the latter sweet and dainty in one of the very latest creations in muslin; Mr. and Mrs. Fuller with Tad and Clifford; young Mr. Carlin from the bank; Mr. and Mrs. Proctor, and their young-lady daughter wearing a marvellous "waterfall"; Angus McMullen, alone, his father detained professionally; Mrs. Cathcart and Georgie; young Bradford carrying his banjo, his wonderful raiment and his air of vast leisure; Welton, the lumberman, red-faced, jolly, popular and ungrammatical. The women guarded baskets. All greeted the Ordes with various degrees of hilarity11. When the noise had died down, a massive and impressive lady, heretofore unnamed, stepped forward. She held a jewelled arm straight before her, the hand drooping12 slightly, so that, although she was in reality of but medium stature13, she gave the impression of condescending14 from a height.
"Good morning, Mrs. Owen," greeted Mrs. Orde, shaking the proffered15 hand.
"Good morning, my dear," replied Mrs. Owen regally. She swept slowly sideways to reveal a woman and a little girl of seven or eight years, immediately behind her. "Allow me to present to you my very dear friend, Mrs. Carleton. Mrs. Carleton is from the city, staying at the Ottawa for a few weeks, and I knew you would like the chance to show her some of our beautiful River." Mrs. Carleton, a pretty, modish16 woman, with the ease of city manner, bowed quietly and murmured her pleasure. The little girl looked half bashfully through a wealth of natural curls at the grown-ups to whom she was presented in the off-hand method one employs with children. She was altogether a charming little girl. Her hair was of the colour of ripe wheat; her skin was of the light smooth brown peculiar17 to an exceptional blonde complexion18 tanned in the sun; her mouth was full and whimsical; and her eyes, strangely enough in one otherwise so light, were so black as to resemble spots. Her dress was very simple, very starched, very white. A big leghorn hat with red roses half hid her head. She was shy, that was easily to be seen; but shyness was relieved from the awkwardness so usual and so painful in children of her age by the results of what must have been a careful training. She answered when she was spoken to, directly and to the point; and yet it could not but be evident that her spirit fluttered.
The combination was charming; and Mrs. Orde fell to it at once.
"Celia, my dear," she said kindly21, "come with me, we're going to have a nice day together; and I have a little boy named Bobby who will show you everything."
But now the _Robert O_ gave two impatient toots. Everybody ceased greeting everybody else, and began to pile the shawls and lunch baskets aboard. The thick strong gunwale of the _Robert O_ was a foot or so below the chute level from the wharf. The women were helped aboard soberly by the men. Miss Proctor, however, slipped little slips and screamed little screams, while young Mr. Carlin, Bradford and Welton, with galvanized beaming smiles, all attempted to help her. Mrs. Owen marched down the chute, waited calmly and without impatience22 until all the available men were at hand, and then stepped down majestically23 with dignity unimpaired.
Long before this, Bobby had quit the altogether uninteresting wharf. The _Robert O_ he had seen many times from a distance, and once of twice near at hand lying at the cribs and piers24, but this was his first chance to explore. Accordingly he dropped down to her deck, and, with the natural instinct to see as far ahead as possible, marched immediately to the very prow25. The deck proved to slope up-hill strangely, which, in its unlikeness to any floor Bobby had ever walked on, was in itself a pleasure. The hawser26 around the bitt interested him; and the glimpse he had of the sparkling river slipping toward him from the yellow hills up stream. He could just rest his chin on the rail to look.
Then he turned his gaze aft; and encountered the amused scrutiny27 of a man leaning on a wheel in a little house. The house had big windows, and on top was an iron eagle with spread wings. Two steps led up to a door on each side; and Bobby without hesitation28 entered one of these doors.
The inside of the house he found different from any house he had ever been in before; and possessed29 of a strange fascination30. There was the wheel, with projecting handles to every spoke20, and above it, racks containing spyglasses, black pipes, tobacco-tins. At hand projected a speaking-tube like that in the back hall at home, and two or three handles connected with wires. Behind the wheel was a broad leather seat; and clothes on nails; and a chart; and a pilot's licence, of which Bobby understood nothing, but admired the round gold seals.
"Well, Bobby, what do you think of it?" asked the man.
Bobby had not had time to look at the man. He did so now and liked him. The first thing he noticed was the man's eyes, which were steady and unwavering and as blue as the sky. Then he surveyed in turn gravely his heavy bleached31, flaxen moustache; his hard brown cheeks; the round barrel of his blue-clad body; and his short sturdy legs.
"Think you'd like to run a tug32?" inquired this man.
"I don't know," replied Bobby; "what is your name?"
"I'm Captain Marsh33," replied the man. He glanced out the open door at the group on the wharf. "If they're going up past the bend to-day, they'll have to get a move," he remarked. "Here, Bobby, want to blow the whistle?"
He lifted the boy up in the hollow of one arm. "There, that's it; that handle. Pull down on it, and let go."
Bobby did so and his little heart almost stopped at the shock of the blast, so loud was it, and so near.
"Now again," commanded Captain Marsh.
Bobby recovered and obeyed. The passengers began to embark34.
Captain Marsh watched until the last was safely aboard; then he set Bobby gently to the floor.
"If you want to see out, go sit on the bunk35 back there," he advised.
Somebody cast off the lines. Captain Marsh pulled the other handle. A sharp tinkling36 bell struck somewhere far in the depths of the craft. Immediately Bobby felt beneath him the upheaval37 and trembling of some mighty38 force. The wharf seemed to slip back. In another moment at a second tinkle39 of the bell the tug had gathered headway, and the little boy was watching with delight the sandhills and buildings on one side and the other slipping by in regular succession.
Captain Marsh stood easily staring directly ahead of him, and paying no more attention to the child. Bobby sat very straight in his absorption. New impressions were coming to him so fast that he had no desire to move. The slow turn of the great wheel; the throb40 of the engine; the swift passing of water; the orderly procession of the river banks; the feeling of smooth, resistless motion--these sufficed. How long he might have sat there if undisturbed, it would be hard to say; but at the end of a few moments Angus McMullen looked in at the door.
"What you stayin' here for, Bobby?" he inquired with contemptuous wonder. "Come on out and see the big waves we're making."
Outside Bobby found all the grown-ups gathered forward of the pilot house. The older people were seated on folding camp chairs, the equilibrium41 of which they found some difficulty in maintaining on the sloping deck. Bradford, Carlin, Welton and Miss Proctor, however, had established themselves in the extreme bow. Miss Proctor perched on the bitts, while the men stood or leaned near at hand. Occasionally, as the tug changed course, Miss Proctor would utter a little exclamation9 and thrust her arms out aimlessly, as though uncertain. All three of the men thereupon assured her balance for her. With the group Bobby saw the little girl with light hair.
"Not up there," advised Angus. "This way." A very narrow passage ran between the thick gunwale and the deck-house. It sloped down and then gradually up toward the stern. At its lowest point it seemed to Bobby fearfully near the river; and as he descended42 to that point he discovered that indeed the displacement43 of rapid running appeared to force the water even above the level of the deck. Bits of chip, sawdust and the like shot swiftly by in the smooth, oily curve of the liquid. The wet smell of it came to Bobby's eager nostrils44, the subtle cool aroma45 of the river.
But, from a little door level with the deck, smoking a pipe, leaned a negro who greeted them jovially46. He dwelt in a narrow place down in the hull47, filled with machinery48 and the glow of a furnace. The boys hung in the opening fascinated by the regular rise and fall of the polished rods; savouring the feel of heavy heated air and the clean smell of oil. In a moment the negro flung open an iron door whence immediately sprang glowing light and a blast of heat. Into this door he thrust two or three long slabs49 which he took from the deck on the other side of the tug; and shut it to with a clang.
After gazing their fill, the boys continued their way back. The deck-house ended. They found themselves on the broad, flat, spoon-shaped after-deck occupied by the strong towing-bitts and coils of cable.
"Isn't this great?" asked Angus.
They joined the Fuller boys hanging eagerly over the stern. Here the wake boiled white and full of bubbles from the action of the powerful propeller50 necessary to a towing-tug. Along the edges it was light green shot with blue; and the central line of its down-section waved from side to side like a snake. On either side long, slanting51 waves pushed aside by the bow surged smoothly away; behind followed other round waves in regular and diminishing succession. Over them the chips and bark rode with a jolly, dancing motion.
Shortly, however, the younger people discovered the possibilities of the after-deck. Miss Proctor leaned her back against the low gunwale astern. The men disposed themselves about her. They talked with a great deal of laughter; but Bobby did not find their conversation amusing. Finally they began to entreat52 Mr. Bradford to play his banjo. That young gentleman became suddenly afflicted53 with shyness.
"I don't play much," he objected. "Honestly I don't--just picked up a few chords by ear."
"Oh, Mr. _Bradford_," cried Miss Proctor, "I've heard you play _beautifully_. _Do_ get it."
Mr. Bradford objected further; and was further cajoled by Miss Proctor. Bobby wondered why he had brought the banjo along, if he didn't want to play on it. The other men did none of the persuading. Finally Mr. Bradford procured54 the instrument. He took some time to tune55 it; and had something to say concerning damp air and the strings56. Finally he played the "Spanish Fandango," to the enthusiasm of Miss Proctor and the polite attention of the other men. This he followed by a song called "Listen to the Mocking Bird," the chorus to which consisted of complicated gurgling whistling supposed to represent the song of the mocking bird, though it is to be doubted if that performer would have recognized himself in it. Miss Proctor approving of this, Bradford next played a trick piece, in the course of which he did acrobatics57 with his instrument, but without missing a note.
Carlin and Welton finally strolled away unnoticed. The lumberman offered the other a cigar.
"Ain't no use buckin' the funny man with the banjo, Tommy," he observed with a rueful grin.
Mr. Bradford now put two pennies under the bridge.
"Makes it sound like a guitar," he explained; and drifted into thrillingly sentimental58 selections. He sang three in so low a voice that Bobby began to think it useless to listen any more; when a loud and prolonged whistle from the tug drowned all other sounds. Mr. Bradford looked savage59; but the boys were delighted.
"Going to pass the drawbridge!" shrieked60 Angus.
They raced away to the bow in order to watch the imminence61 of the great structure over their heads; to see the smokestack dip back on its hinges as they passed beneath; and to gloat over the smash of their waves against the piling of the bridge's foundation. Here Bobby was captured by Mrs. Orde.
"Here, Bobby," said she, "This is Celia Carleton, and I want you to be nice to her."
With that she left them staring at each other.
"How do you do?" remarked Bobby gravely.
"How do you do?" said she.
They were no further along.
"I got a new knife," blurted62 out Bobby, in desperation.
"That's nice," said Celia politely. "Let's see it."
"I haven't got it with me," confessed Bobby. He was ashamed to say that he was not yet permitted to use it.
He glanced at her sideways. Somehow he liked the fresh clean stiffness of her starched, skirts, and the biscuit brown of her complexion. He desired all at once that she think well of him.
"I can jump off our high-board fence to the ground," he boasted.
Celia seemed impressed.
"My knife's nothing," said Bobby, "My father's got a razor that can cut anything. He lets me take it whenever I want it. It's awful sharp. If I had it here I could cut this boat right in two with it."
"My!" said Celia, "But I wouldn't want to cut it in two. Would you?"
"Oh, I don't know," said Bobby, his legs apart, his head on one side. He was sure now that he liked this new acquaintance; she seemed pleasantly to be awestricken. "Come on, let's go in the back part of the boat" he suggested, "and I'll show you things."
"All right," said she.
Bobby led her past the scornful Angus to the narrow deck.
"This is the engine room," he announced out of his new knowledge.
But Celia did not care for it.
"It's awfully64 dirty," said she.
This was a new point of view; and Bobby marvelled65. However, she was delighted with the after-deck, and the wake, and the attendant waves. Bobby showed them off to her as though they had been his private possessions. This was the first little girl he had ever known. The novelty appealed to him; the daintiness of her; the freshness and cleanness; the dependence66 of her on Bobby's ten years of experience--all this brought out the latent and instinctive67 male admiration68 of the child. He remained heedless of the other three boys hanging awkwardly in the middle distance. All his small store of knowledge he poured out before her--he told her everything, without reservation--of Duke, and the sand-hills, and the fort, and Sir Thomas Malory, and the booms, and the Flobert Rifle, and the "Dutchmen" on the side street. She found it all interesting. They became very good friends.
In the meantime Mr. Bradford had long since laid aside the banjo, and was basking69 in Miss Proctor's unshared attention. The pleased smile never left his face; the lean of his head bespoke70 deep deference71; the curve of his body respectful devotion. He talked in a low voice, and every moment or so Miss Proctor would giggle72, or exclaim, "Oh, Mr. _Bradford_!" in a pleased and reproving voice.
In the meantime the tug was going rapidly up river; and yet, with the exception of an occasional glance from some isolated73 individual, and the sporadic74 attention of the boys, no one saw what was passing. All were absorbed by the people, the little happenings and the talk aboard the craft. So without comment they swept past the tall yellow sand-hills with their fringe of crested75 trees on the left; and the wide plain on the right. Only Bobby remarked the deep bayou in the bosom76 of the hills where dreamed in the peace and mystery of an honourable77 old age the hulks of a dozen vessels78 rotting in the sun. The shipyards and the mills the other side the drawbridge nobody saw, for at that time even Bobby was absorbed in his new acquaintance.
But beyond that, the boy having offered and the girl received the first burst of confidence, the children turned their attention to things passing. They saw the wide marshes79 of rushes and cat-tails, with their bayous and channels wherein swam the white-billed mud-hens; and the long booms to the left filled with brown logs. From this level, low to the water, these things seemed to them wonderful and vast. After a little the _Robert O_ whistled again. They passed the swing at the upper end of the booms. Old man North stood, in the doorway80 of his hut, smoking his short black pipe upside down. Bobby was astonished to see how different the hut looked from this point of view. He would hardly have recognized it were it not for the swing-tender, who waved his pipe at Bobby when the tug passed.
"I know him," said Bobby proudly to Celia.
The _Robert O_ swept through, and the long slanting waves, and the round following waves sucked up and down among the piles.
"Now we're going around the Bend!" cried Bobby excitedly. "I never been around the Bend!"
But Celia suddenly arose.
"I'm going back to mamma and the rest," she announced.
"Why?" asked Bobby astonished. "Come on; stay here and see what there is around the Bend."
Celia stood on one foot, her black eyes wide and speculative81, staring past Bobby into some fair realm of feminine caprice. She shook her head, slowly, so that first a curl on one side, then on the other fell across her eyes. After a long deliberate moment she turned and went forward, followed at a distance by the grieved and puzzled Bobby. In the bow she sidled up to her mother, against whom she leaned lightly, her head on one side, her eyes dreamy, her hand slipped into one of her mother's open palms. Bobby, shut out, made his way to the prow, where he rested his chin on the rail, and rather glumly82 contemplated83 the surprises of "around the Bend."
But over the prow the little boy was the first--except for Captain Marsh--to see from afar the landing, first as a glimmering84 shadow under the reflection of the elms; then as a vague ill-defined form above the River's glassy surface; finally as a wide, low, T-shaped platform wharf, reaching its twenty feet from the grassy85 banks to shimmer86 in the heat above its own wavering reflection.
The tug sidled alongside with a great turmoil87 of white-and-green bubble-shot water drifting around in eddies88 from her labouring propeller. Captain Marsh, after one prolonged jingle89 of his bell emerged from his pilot-house, seized a heavy rope, and sprang ashore90. The end of the rope he cast around a snubbing-pile.
But some inset of current or excess of momentum91 made it impossible to hold her. The rope creaked and cried as it was dragged around the smooth snubbing-pile. Finally the end was drawn92 so close that Captain Marsh was in danger of jamming his hands. At once, with inconceivable dexterity93 and quickness, he cast loose, ran forward, wrapped the line three times around another pile farther on and braced94 his short, sturdy legs against the post for a trial of strength. Here the heavy, slow surge of the tug was effectually checked. Captain Marsh turned his wide grin of triumph toward his passengers. Everybody laughed, and prepared to disembark.
Between the gunwale and the wharf's edge could be seen a narrow glinting strip of very black water. The _Robert O_ slowly approached and receded95 from the dock; and this strip of water correspondingly widened and narrowed. Over it every one must step; and the anxieties and precautions were something tremendous. Bobby came toward the last, and was lifted bodily across, his sturdy legs curling up under like a crab's.
The wharf he found broad and square and shady, with a narrow way leading ashore. In the middle of it were piled, awaiting shipment on the _Lucy Belle_, three tiers of the old-fashioned, open-built, pail-shaped peach-baskets containing the famous Michigan fruit. Each was filled to a gentle curve above the brim, and over the top was wired pink mosquito netting. This at once protected the fruit from insects; added to the brilliancy and softness of its colouring; and lent to the rows of baskets a gay and holiday appearance. The men examined them attentively96, talking of "cling stones," "free stones," "Crawfords," and other technicalities which Bobby could not understand. When the last lunch basket had been passed ashore, all crossed to the bank of the river and the grove97 of elms, leaving the _Robert O_ and Captain Marsh and the engineer.
In the grove the boys immediately scattered98 in search of adventure. All but Bobby. He remained with the older people, wishing mightily99 to take Celia with him; but suddenly afraid to approach her with the direct request. So he contented100 himself with expressive101 gestures, which she, close to her mother, chose to ignore.
Two of the men disappeared up the path, one carrying an empty pail. The others went busily about collecting wood, building a fire, smoothing out a place to spread the rugs which would serve as a table. All the women fluttered about the lunch baskets examining the contents, discussing them, finally distributing them in accordance with the mysterious system considered proper in such matters. Bobby, left alone, without occupation on the one hand, nor the desire for his companions' amusements on the other, was then the only one at leisure to look about him, to observe through the alders102 that fringed the bank the hide-and-seek glint of the River; to gaze with wonder and a little awe63 on the canopy103 of waving light green that to his childish sense of proportion seemed as far above him as the skies themselves; to notice how the sunlight splashed through the rifts104 as though it had been melted and poured down from above; to feel the friendly warmth of summer air under trees; to savour the hot springwood-smells that wandered here and there in the careless irresponsibility of forest spirits off duty. This was Bobby's first experience with woods; and his keenest perceptions were alive to them. The tall trunks of trees rising from the graceful105, fragile, half-translucence of undergrowth; little round tunnels to a distant delicate green; lights against shadows, and shadows against lights; the wing-flashes of birds hidden and mysterious; and above all the marvellous green transparence of all the shadows, which tinted106 the very air itself, so that to the little boy it seemed he could bathe in it as in a clear fountain--all these came to him at once. And each brought by the hand another wonder for recognition, so that at last the picnic party disappeared from his vision, the loud and laughing voices were hushed from his ears. He stood there, lips apart, eyes wide, spirit hushed, looking half upward. The light struck down across him.
The picnic party went about its business unaware107 of the wonderful thing transacting108 in their very presence. Men do not grow as plants, so many inches, so many months. The changes prepare long and in secret, without visible indication. Then swiftly they take place. The qualities of the soul unfold silently their splendid wings.
After a moment the boys ran whooping109 through the woods from one direction demanding food; the two men came shouting from the other carrying a pail of water and an open basket of magnificent peaches. Bobby shivered slightly, and looked about him, half dazed, as though he had just awakened110. Then quietly he crept to a tree near the table and sat down. For perhaps a minute he remained there; then with a rush came the reaction. Bobby was wildly and reprehensibly naughty.
Once in a while, and after meals, Mrs. Orde allowed him a single piece of sponge-cake; no more. But now, Bobby, catching111 the eye of Celia upon him, grimaced112, pantomimed to call attention, and deliberately113 _broke_ off a big chunk114 of Mrs. Owen's frosted work of art and proceeded to devour115 it. Celia's eyes widened with horror; which to Bobby's depraved state of mind was reward enough. Then Mrs. Orde uttered a cry of astonishment116; Mrs. Owen a dignified117 but outraged118 snort; and Bobby was yanked into space.
After the storm had cleared, he found himself, somewhat dishevelled, aboard the _Robert O_, entrusted119 to Captain Marsh, provided with three bread-and-butter sandwiches, and promised a hair-brush spanking120 for the morrow.
Mrs. Orde was not only mortified121, but shocked to the very depths of her faith.
"I don't know how to explain it!" she said again and again. "Bobby is always so good about such things! I've brought him up--and _deliberately_. My dear Mrs. Owen, such a beautiful frosting, and to have it ruined like that!"
But Mrs. Fuller, fat, placid122, perhaps slightly stupid, here rose to the heights of what her husband always admiringly called "horse sense."
"Now, Carroll," she said, "stop your worrying about it. You'll get yourself all worked up and spoil your lunch and ours, all for nothing. Children will be naughty sometimes. I was naughty myself. So were you, probably. That's human nature. Just don't worry about it and spoil the good time."
Mrs. Orde thereupon fell silent, for she was a sensible woman and could see the point as to lessening123 the other's enjoyment124. Little by little she cooled off, until at last she was able to join in the fun; although always in the background of her mind persisted the necessity of knowing a _reason_ for such an outbreak.
The flurry over, Welton insisted that they all admire the peaches.
"Best Michigan produces," he boasted. "Every one big as a coffee-cup; and perfect in shape, colour and flavour. Freestone, too. Nothing exceptional about them either. Millions more just like 'em. Can't match them anywhere in the world."
"Saw by the paper this spring that the peach crop was ruined by the frost," marvelled Carlin.
Taylor laughed.
"My dear fellow, the Michigan peach crop is destroyed regularly _every_ spring. Seem to be enough peaches by August, however."
They fell to on the lunch. When they had eaten all they could, there still remained enough to have fed four other picnics of the same size as their own.
Bobby remained not long cast down, however.
"Been at it, have you?" observed Captain Marsh after the irate125 parent had departed. "What was it this time?"
"I ate a piece of cake," replied Bobby.
"H'm! That doesn't sound very bad."
"It was Mrs. Owen's cake," supplemented Bobby.
"I see," said the Captain gravely in enlightenment. "What are you going to do now?"
"I'm going to eat my lunch," Bobby informed him, showing the three bread-and-butter sandwiches.
"H'm. So'm I," said the Captain. "Better join me."
They entered the pilot-house and established themselves facing each other on the wide leather seat. The Captain produced a tin dinner-pail with a cupola top such as Bobby had often seen men carrying, and which he had always desired to investigate. This came apart in the middle. The top proved to contain cold coffee all sugared and creamed. The bottom had a fringed red-checked napkin, two slabs of pie, two doughnuts, and four thick ham sandwiches made of coarse bread. They ate. Captain Marsh insisted on Bobby's accepting a doughnut and a piece of pie. Bobby did so, with many misgivings126; but found them delicious exceedingly because they were so different from what he was used to at home.
"Now," said the Captain, brushing away the crumbs127 with one comprehensive gesture, "what do you want to do now? You got to stay aboard, you know?"
"Can't we fish?" suggested Bobby timidly.
The Captain looked about him with some doubt.
"Well," he decided128 at last, "we might try. The time of day's wrong, and the place don't look much good; but there's no harm trying."
Two long bamboo poles fitted with lines, hooks, and sinkers were slung129 alongside the deck-house. Captain Marsh produced worms in a can. The two sat side by side, dangling130 their feet over the stern, the poles slanting down toward the dark water, silent and intent. In not more than two minutes Bobby felt his pole twitch131. Without much difficulty he drew to the surface a broad flat little fish that flashed as he turned in the water.
"Hi!" cried Bobby, "there _are_ fish here!"
"Oh, that's a sunfish," said Captain Marsh.
Bobby looked up.
"Aren't sunfish good?" he inquired anxiously.
Captain Marsh opened his mouth to reply, caught Bobby's apprehensive132 and half-disappointed expression, and thought better of it.
"Why, sure!" said he. "They're a fine fish."
At the end of an hour Bobby had acquired a goodly string. Captain Marsh early drew in his line, saying he preferred to smoke. Bobby had an excellent time. He was very much surprised at the return of the picnic party. The period of punishment had not hung heavy.
By the time all had embarked133, the steam pressure was up. The _Robert O_ swung down stream for home.
But now Celia, forgetting her earlier caprice of indifference134, watched Bobby constantly. After a little he became aware of it, and was flattered in his secret soul, but he attempted no more advances, nor did he vouchsafe135 her the smallest glance. Soon she sidled over to him shyly.
"What made you do it?" she asked in a whisper.
"Do what?" pretended Bobby.
"Break Mrs. Owen's cake."
"'Cause I wanted to."
"Didn't you know 't was very bad?"
"'Course."
Celia contemplated Bobby with a new and respectful interest. "I wouldn't dare do it," she acknowledged at last. In this lay confession136 of the reason for her change of whim19; but Bobby could not be expected to realize that. With masculine directness he seized the root of his grievance137 and brought it to light.
"Why were you so mean this noon?" he demanded.
She made wide eyes.
"I wasn't mean. How was I mean?"
"You went away; and you wouldn't look at me or talk to me."
"I didn't care whether I talked to you or not," she denied. "I wanted to be with my mamma."
So on the return trip, too, Bobby had a good time. The wharf surprised him, and the flurry of disembarkation prevented his saying formal good-bye to Celia. He waved his hand at her, however, and grinned amiably138. To his astonishment she gave him the briefest possible nod over her shoulder; and walked away, her hand clasping that of her mother, even yet a dainty airy figure in her mussed white dress still flaring139 with starch2, her slim black legs, and her wide leghorn hat with the red roses.
The hurt and puzzle of this lasted him to his home, and caused him to forget the spanking in prospect140. He ate his supper in silence, quite unaware of his mother's disapproval141. After supper he hunted up Duke and sat watching the sunset behind the twisted pines on the sandhills. He did much cogitating142, but arrived nowhere.
"Bobby!" called his mother. "Come to bed."
He said good night to Duke, and obeyed.
"Now, Bobby," said Mrs. Orde, "I don't like to do this, but you have been a very naughty boy to-day. Come here."
Bobby came. The hair brush did its work. Usually in such case Bobby howled before the first blow fell, but to-night he set his lips and uttered no sounds. _Slap!_ _slap!_ _slap!_ _slap!_ with deliberate spaces between. Bobby was released. He climbed down, his soul tense, with agony, but his face steady--and laughed!
It was not much of a laugh, to be sure, but a laugh it was. Mrs. Orde, shocked, scandalized, outraged and now thoroughly143 angry, yanked her son again across her knees.
"Why! I never heard of anything like it!" she cried. "You naughty, _naughty_ boy! I don't see what's got into you to-day. I'll teach you to laugh at my spankings144!"
Bobby did not laugh at this spanking. It was more than a stone could have borne. After the fifth well-directed and vigorous smack145, he howled.
Later, when the tempest of sobs146 had stilled to occasional gulps147, Mrs. Orde questioned him about it. They were rocking back and forth in the big chair, the twilight148 all about them. Bobby said he was sorry and his mamma had cuddled him and loved him, and all was forgiven.
"Now, Bobby, tell mamma," soothed149 Mrs. Orde. "Why were you such a bad little boy as to laugh at mamma when she spanked150 you just now?"
"I wasn't bad," protested Bobby, "I was trying to be good. You told me not to cry when I got hurt, but to jump up and laugh about it."
"Oh, my baby, my poor little man!" cried Mrs. Orde between laughter and tears.
They rocked some more.
"Now, Bobby, tell mamma," insisted Mrs. Orde gently. "Why did you break Mrs. Owen's cake? Were you as hungry as all that?"
"No ma'am," replied Bobby.
"Why did you do it, then?"
"I don't know."
Mr. Orde laughed uproariously when told of Bobby's attempt to be brave under affliction.
"The little snoozer!" he cried. "Guess I'll go up and see him."
Bobby loved to have his father lie beside him on the bed. They never said much; but the little boy lay, looking up through the dimness, bathed in a deep comfortable content at the man's physical presence.
To-night they lay thus in silence for at least five minutes. Then Bobby spoke.
"Papa," said he "don't you think Celia Carleton is pretty?"
"Very pretty, Bobby."
Another long silence.
"Papa," complained Bobby at last, "why does Celia be nice to me; and then not be nice to me; and change all the while?"
Mr. Orde chuckled151 softly to himself.
"That's the way of 'em, Bobby," said he. "There's no explaining it. All little girls are that way--and big girls, too," he added.
So long a pause ensued that Mr. Orde thought his son must be asleep, and was preparing softly to escape.
"Papa," came the little boy's voice from the darkness, "I like her just the same."
"Carroll," said Mr. Orde to his wife as blinking he entered the lighted sitting room, "you can recover your soul's equanimity152. I've found out why he broke into the cake."
"Why?" asked Mrs. Orde eagerly.
"He was showing off before that little Carleton girl," replied Mr. Orde.
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1
starched
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| adj.浆硬的，硬挺的，拘泥刻板的v.把（衣服、床单等）浆一浆( starch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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starch
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| n.淀粉；vt.给...上浆 | |
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linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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smoothly
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| adv.平滑地，顺利地，流利地，流畅地 | |
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velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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wharf
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| n.码头，停泊处 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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hamper
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| vt.妨碍，束缚，限制；n.(有盖的)大篮子 | |
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exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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exclamations
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| n.呼喊( exclamation的名词复数 )；感叹；感叹语；感叹词 | |
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hilarity
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| n.欢乐；热闹 | |
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drooping
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| adj. 下垂的，无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
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stature
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| n.（高度）水平，（高度）境界，身高，身材 | |
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condescending
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| adj.谦逊的,故意屈尊的 | |
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proffered
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| v.提供，贡献，提出( proffer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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modish
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| adj.流行的，时髦的 | |
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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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complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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whim
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| n.一时的兴致，突然的念头；奇想，幻想 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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majestically
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| 雄伟地； 庄重地； 威严地； 崇高地 | |
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piers
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| n.水上平台( pier的名词复数 )；（常设有娱乐场所的）突堤；柱子；墙墩 | |
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prow
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| n.(飞机)机头，船头 | |
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hawser
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| n.大缆；大索 | |
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scrutiny
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| n.详细检查，仔细观察 | |
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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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fascination
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| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
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bleached
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| 漂白的，晒白的，颜色变浅的 | |
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tug
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| v.用力拖(或拉)；苦干；n.拖；苦干；拖船 | |
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marsh
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| n.沼泽，湿地 | |
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embark
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| vi.乘船，着手，从事，上飞机 | |
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bunk
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| n.(车、船等倚壁而设的)铺位；废话 | |
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tinkling
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| n.丁当作响声 | |
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upheaval
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| n.胀起，(地壳)的隆起；剧变，动乱 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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tinkle
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| vi.叮当作响；n.叮当声 | |
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40
throb
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| v.震颤，颤动；(急速强烈地)跳动，搏动 | |
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equilibrium
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| n.平衡，均衡，相称，均势，平静 | |
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42
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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displacement
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| n.移置，取代，位移，排水量 | |
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nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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aroma
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| n.香气，芬芳，芳香 | |
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jovially
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| adv.愉快地，高兴地 | |
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hull
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| n.船身；(果、实等的)外壳；vt.去(谷物等)壳 | |
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machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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slabs
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| n.厚板，平板，厚片( slab的名词复数 )；厚胶片 | |
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propeller
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| n.螺旋桨，推进器 | |
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slanting
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| 倾斜的，歪斜的 | |
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entreat
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| v.恳求，恳请 | |
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afflicted
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| 使受痛苦，折磨( afflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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54
procured
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| v.（努力）取得， （设法）获得( procure的过去式和过去分词 )；拉皮条 | |
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55
tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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56
strings
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| n.弦 | |
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57
acrobatics
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| n.杂技 | |
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58
sentimental
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| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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59
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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60
shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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61
imminence
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| n.急迫，危急 | |
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62
blurted
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| v.突然说出，脱口而出( blurt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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63
awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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64
awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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65
marvelled
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| v.惊奇，对…感到惊奇( marvel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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66
dependence
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| n.依靠，依赖；信任，信赖；隶属 | |
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67
instinctive
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| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
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68
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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69
basking
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| v.晒太阳，取暖( bask的现在分词 )；对…感到乐趣；因他人的功绩而出名；仰仗…的余泽 | |
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70
bespoke
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| adj.（产品）订做的；专做订货的v.预定( bespeak的过去式 )；订（货）；证明；预先请求 | |
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71
deference
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| n.尊重，顺从；敬意 | |
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72
giggle
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| n.痴笑，咯咯地笑；v.咯咯地笑着说 | |
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73
isolated
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| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
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74
sporadic
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| adj.偶尔发生的 [反]regular；分散的 | |
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75
crested
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| adj.有顶饰的，有纹章的，有冠毛的v.到达山顶（或浪峰）( crest的过去式和过去分词 )；到达洪峰，达到顶点 | |
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76
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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77
honourable
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| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
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78
vessels
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| n.血管( vessel的名词复数 )；船；容器；（具有特殊品质或接受特殊品质的）人 | |
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79
marshes
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| n.沼泽，湿地( marsh的名词复数 ) | |
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80
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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81
speculative
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| adj.思索性的，暝想性的，推理的 | |
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82
glumly
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| adv.忧郁地，闷闷不乐地；阴郁地 | |
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83
contemplated
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| adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
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84
glimmering
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| n.微光，隐约的一瞥adj.薄弱地发光的v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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85
grassy
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| adj.盖满草的；长满草的 | |
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86
shimmer
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| v./n.发微光，发闪光；微光 | |
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87
turmoil
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| n.骚乱，混乱，动乱 | |
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88
eddies
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| （水、烟等的）漩涡，涡流( eddy的名词复数 ) | |
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89
jingle
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| n.叮当声，韵律简单的诗句；v.使叮当作响，叮当响，押韵 | |
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90
ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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91
momentum
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| n.动力，冲力，势头；动量 | |
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92
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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93
dexterity
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| n.(手的)灵巧，灵活 | |
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94
braced
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| adj.拉牢的v.支住( brace的过去式和过去分词 )；撑牢；使自己站稳；振作起来 | |
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95
receded
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| v.逐渐远离( recede的过去式和过去分词 )；向后倾斜；自原处后退或避开别人的注视；尤指问题 | |
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96
attentively
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| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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97
grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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98
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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99
mightily
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| ad.强烈地；非常地 | |
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100
contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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101
expressive
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| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
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102
alders
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| n.桤木( alder的名词复数 ) | |
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103
canopy
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| n.天篷，遮篷 | |
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104
rifts
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| n.裂缝( rift的名词复数 )；裂隙；分裂；不和 | |
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105
graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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106
tinted
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| adj. 带色彩的 动词tint的过去式和过去分词 | |
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107
unaware
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| a.不知道的，未意识到的 | |
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108
transacting
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| v.办理（业务等）( transact的现在分词 )；交易，谈判 | |
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109
whooping
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| 发嗬嗬声的，发咳声的 | |
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110
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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111
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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112
grimaced
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| v.扮鬼相，做鬼脸( grimace的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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113
deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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114
chunk
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| n.厚片，大块，相当大的部分（数量） | |
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115
devour
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| v.吞没；贪婪地注视或谛听，贪读；使着迷 | |
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116
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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117
dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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118
outraged
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| a.震惊的，义愤填膺的 | |
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119
entrusted
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| v.委托，托付( entrust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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120
spanking
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| adj.强烈的，疾行的；n.打屁股 | |
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121
mortified
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| v.使受辱( mortify的过去式和过去分词 )；伤害（人的感情）；克制；抑制（肉体、情感等） | |
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122
placid
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| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
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123
lessening
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| 减轻，减少，变小 | |
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124
enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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irate
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| adj.发怒的，生气 | |
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126
misgivings
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| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕；疑虑，担心，恐惧( misgiving的名词复数 )；疑惧 | |
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127
crumbs
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| int. (表示惊讶)哎呀 n. 碎屑 名词crumb的复数形式 | |
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128
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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129
slung
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| 抛( sling的过去式和过去分词 )； 吊挂； 遣送； 押往 | |
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130
dangling
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| 悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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131
twitch
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| v.急拉，抽动，痉挛，抽搐；n.扯，阵痛，痉挛 | |
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132
apprehensive
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| adj.担心的，恐惧的，善于领会的 | |
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133
embarked
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| 乘船( embark的过去式和过去分词 )； 装载； 从事 | |
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134
indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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135
vouchsafe
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| v.惠予，准许 | |
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confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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137
grievance
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| n.怨愤，气恼，委屈 | |
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138
amiably
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| adv.和蔼可亲地，亲切地 | |
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139
flaring
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| a.火焰摇曳的，过份艳丽的 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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141
disapproval
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| n.反对，不赞成 | |
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142
cogitating
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| v.认真思考，深思熟虑( cogitate的现在分词 ) | |
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143
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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144
spankings
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| n.打屁股( spanking的名词复数 ) | |
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145
smack
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| vt.拍，打，掴；咂嘴；vi.含有…意味；n.拍 | |
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146
sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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gulps
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| n.一大口（尤指液体）( gulp的名词复数 )v.狼吞虎咽地吃，吞咽( gulp的第三人称单数 )；大口地吸（气）；哽住 | |
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148
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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149
soothed
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| v.安慰( soothe的过去式和过去分词 )；抚慰；使舒服；减轻痛苦 | |
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150
spanked
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| v.用手掌打( spank的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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151
chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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152
equanimity
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| n.沉着，镇定 | |
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