CHAPTER III — ANDY AND HIS MOTHER

 The house in which the Widow Burke and her daughter lived was a very humble¹ one. It had not been painted for many years, and the original coat had worn off, leaving it dark and time-stained. But when Mrs. Burke came to town, a short time before, it was the only dwelling² she could hire that was held at a rent within her means. So she and Mary, who was now eleven years old, had moved in their scanty³ furniture and made it look as much like a home as possible.

 

Mrs. Burke had not always been as poor as now. She was the daughter of an Irish tradesman, and had received quite a good education. In due time she married a small farmer, who was considered to be in fair circumstances, but there came a bad year, and misfortunes of various kinds came together. The last and heaviest of all was fever, which prostrated⁴ her husband on a bed of sickness. Though his wife watched over him night and day with all the devotion of love, it was all of no avail. He died, and she found herself left with about a hundred pounds—after his debts were paid. She was advised to go to America with her two children, and did so. That was five years before. They had lived in various places—but the little sum she had left over, after the passage of the three was paid, had long since melted away, and she was forced to get a living as she could.

 

Since she had come to Crampton, leaving Andy at work for a farmer in the place where they had last lived, she had obtained what sewing she could from the families in the village, and had besides obtained a chance to help about the ironing at Colonel Preston's. Washing was too hard for her, for her strength was not great.

 

At the time of our introduction she was engaged in making a shirt, one of half a dozen which she had engaged to make for Dr. Plympton, the village doctor. She had no idea that Andy was so near, having heard nothing of his having left his place, but it was of him she was speaking.

 

"I wish I could see Andy," she sighed, looking up from her work.

 

"So do I, mother."

 

"The sight of him would do my eyes good, he's such a lively lad, Andy is—always in good spirits."

 

"Shure, he's got a good heart, mother dear. It wouldn't be so lonely like if he was here."

 

"I would send for him if there was anything to do, Mary; but we are so poor that we must all of us stay where we can get work."

 

"When do you go to Colonel Preston's, mother? Is it to-morrow?"

 

"Yes, my dear."

 

"I'm always lonely when you are away."

 

"Perhaps you would come with me, Mary, dear. Mrs. Preston wouldn't object, I'm thinkin'."

 

"If Andy was at home I wouldn't feel so lonely."

 

While she was speaking Andy himself had crept under the window, and heard her words. He was planning a surprise, but waited for the last moment to announce himself. He waited to hear what reply his mother would say.

 

"I think we'll see him soon, Mary, dear."

 

"What makes you say so, mother?"

 

"I don't know. I've got a feeling in my bones that we'll soon meet. The blessed saints grant that it may be so."

 

"Your bones are right this time, mother," said a merry voice.

 

And Andy, popping up from his stooping position, showed himself at the window.

 

There was a simultaneous scream from Mary and her mother.

 

"Is it you, Andy?" exclaimed Mary.

 

"It isn't nobody else," said Andy, rather ungrammatically.

 

"Come in, Andy, my darling—come in, and tell me if you are well," said his mother, dropping the shirt on which she was at work, and rising to her feet.

 

"I'll be with you in a jiffy," said Andy.

 

And, with a light leap, he cleared the window sill, and stood in the presence of his mother and sister, who vied with each other in hugging the returned prodigal⁵.

 

"You'll choke me, Sister Mary," said Andy, good-humoredly. "Maybe you think I'm your beau."

 

"Don't speak to her of beaux, and she only eleven years old," said his mother. "But you haven't told us why you came."

 

"Faith, mother, it was because the work gave out, and I thought I'd pack my trunk and come and see you and Mary. That's all."

 

"We are glad to see you, Andy, dear, but," continued his mother, taking a survey of her son's appearance for the first time, "you're lookin' like a beggar, with your clothes all in rags."

 

Andy laughed.

 

"Faith, it's about so, mother. There was no one to mend 'em for me, and I'm more used to the hoe than the needle."

 

"I will sew up some of the holes when you're gone to bed, Andy. Are you sure you're well, lad?"

 

"Well, mother? Jist wait till you see me atin', mother. You'll think I've got a healthy appetite."

 

"I never thought, Andy. The poor lad must be hungry. Mary, see what there is in the closet."

 

"There's nothing but some bread, mother," said Mary.

 

Indeed bread and potatoes were the main living of the mother and daughter, adopted because they were cheap. They seldom ventured on the extravagance of meat, and that was one reason, doubtless, for Mrs. Burke's want of strength and sometimes feeling faint and dizzy while working at her needle.

 

"Is there no meat in the house, Mary?"

 

"Not a bit, mother."

 

"Then go and see if there's an egg outside."

 

The widow kept a few hens, having a henhouse in one corner of the back yard. The eggs she usually sold, but Andy was at home now, and needed something hearty⁶, so they must be more extravagant⁷ than usual.

 

Mary went out, and quickly returned with a couple of eggs.

 

"Here they are, mother, two of them. The black hen was settin' on them, but I drove her away, and you can hear her cackling. Shure, Andy needs them more than she does."

 

"Will you have them boiled or fried, Andy?" asked his mother.

 

"Any way, mother. I'm hungry enough to ate 'em raw. It's hungry work walkin' ten miles wid a bundle on your back, let alone the fightin'."

 

"Fighting!" exclaimed Mrs. Burke, pausing in drawing out the table.

 

"Fightin', Andy?" chimed in Mary, in chorus.

 

"Yes, mother," said Andy.

 

"And who did you fight with?" asked the widow, anxiously.

 

"With a boy that feels as big as a king; maybe bigger."

 

"What's his name?"

 

"I heard his father call him Godfrey."

 

"What, Godfrey Preston?" exclaimed Mrs. Burke in something like consternation⁸.

 

"Yes, that's the name. He lives in a big house a mile up the road."

 

"What made you fight with him, Andy?" inquired his mother, anxiously.

 

"He began it."

 

"What could he have against you? He didn't know you."

 

"He thought as I only was an Irish boy he could insult me, and call me names, but I was too much for him."

 

"I hope you didn't hurt him?"

 

"I throwed him twice, mother, but then his father came up and that put a stop to the fight."

 

"And what did his father say?"

 

"He took my part, mother, when he found out how it was, and scolded his son. Shure, he's a gentleman."

 

"Yes, Colonel Preston is a gentleman."

 

"And that's where he isn't like his son, I'm thinkin'."

 

"No. Godfrey isn't like his father. It's his mother he favors."

 

"Faith, and I don't call it favoring," said Andy. Is the old lady as ugly and big-feelin' as the son?"

 

"She's rather a hard woman, Andy. I go up to work there one day every week."

 

"Do you, mother?" said Andy, not wholly pleased to hear that his mother was employed by the mother of his young enemy.

 

"Yes, Andy."

 

"What is it you do?"

 

"I help about the ironing. To-morrow's my day for going there."

 

"I wish you could stay at home, and not go out to work, mother," said Andy, soberly. "You don't look strong, mother, dear. I'm afraid you're not well."

 

"Oh, yes, Andy, I am quite well. I shall be better, too, now that you are at home. I missed you very much. It seemed lonely without you."

 

"I must find out some way to earn money, mother," said Andy. "I'm young and strong, and I ought to support you."

 

"You can help me, Andy," said Mrs. Burke, cheerfully.

 

She took up the shirt and resumed her sewing.

 

"I'm afraid you're too steady at the work, mother," said Andy.

 

"I shall be ironing to-morrow. It's a change from sewing, Andy. Mary, it's time to take off the eggs."

 

Andy was soon partaking of the frugal⁹ meal set before him. He enjoyed it, simple as it was, and left not a particle of the egg or a crumb¹⁰ of the bread.

1 humble   

adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低

参考例句：

• In my humble opinion,he will win the election.依我拙见，他将在选举中获胜。
• Defeat and failure make people humble.挫折与失败会使人谦卑。

2 dwelling   

n.住宅，住所，寓所

参考例句：

• Those two men are dwelling with us.那两个人跟我们住在一起。
• He occupies a three-story dwelling place on the Park Street.他在派克街上有一幢3层楼的寓所。

3 scanty   

adj.缺乏的，仅有的，节省的，狭小的，不够的

参考例句：

• There is scanty evidence to support their accusations.他们的指控证据不足。
• The rainfall was rather scanty this month.这个月的雨量不足。

4 prostrated   

v.使俯伏，使拜倒( prostrate的过去式和过去分词 )；（指疾病、天气等）使某人无能为力

参考例句：

• He was prostrated by the loss of his wife. 他因丧妻而忧郁。 来自《现代英汉综合大词典》
• They prostrated themselves before the emperor. 他们拜倒在皇帝的面前。 来自《简明英汉词典》

5 prodigal   

adj.浪费的，挥霍的，放荡的

参考例句：

• He has been prodigal of the money left by his parents.他已挥霍掉他父母留下的钱。
• The country has been prodigal of its forests.这个国家的森林正受过度的采伐。

6 hearty   

adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的

参考例句：

• After work they made a hearty meal in the worker's canteen.工作完了，他们在工人食堂饱餐了一顿。
• We accorded him a hearty welcome.我们给他热忱的欢迎。

7 extravagant   

adj.奢侈的；过分的；(言行等)放肆的

参考例句：

• They tried to please him with fulsome compliments and extravagant gifts.他们想用溢美之词和奢华的礼品来取悦他。
• He is extravagant in behaviour.他行为放肆。

8 consternation   

n.大为吃惊，惊骇

参考例句：

• He was filled with consternation to hear that his friend was so ill.他听说朋友病得那么厉害，感到非常震惊。
• Sam stared at him in consternation.萨姆惊恐不安地注视着他。

9 frugal   

adj.节俭的，节约的，少量的，微量的

参考例句：

• He was a VIP,but he had a frugal life.他是位要人，但生活俭朴。
• The old woman is frugal to the extreme.那老妇人节约到了极点。

10 crumb   

n.饼屑，面包屑，小量

参考例句：

• It was the only crumb of comfort he could salvage from the ordeal.这是他从这场磨难里能找到的唯一的少许安慰。
• Ruth nearly choked on the last crumb of her pastry.鲁斯几乎被糕点的最后一块碎屑所噎住。