“Good morning, Mr. Smith.”
“Morning. Terrible prompt, aren’t you!”
“I’m always prompt, sir, if you remember.”
The stranger had brought an air of haste and unrest into the quiet library, and its owner’s comfort was at an end. He moved suddenly and his foot began to ache afresh. Even Josephine sat up erect3 and smoothed the folds of her red frock, while she gazed upon Mr. Wakeman’s face with the critical keenness of childhood. On his part, he bestowed4 upon[96] her a smile intended to be sweet, yet that succeeded in being merely patronizing.
“Good morning, sissy. Didn’t know you had any grandchildren, Mr. Smith,” he remarked.
“Haven’t. Of course,” was the retort.
“Beg pardon. I’d forgotten, for the moment, that you were a bachelor. I got your telephone message,” said the clerk.
“Naturally.”
“Thought I’d best see you personally before conducting the inquiries,” went on the young man.
“Unnecessary. Repeat the message you received.”
Mr. Wakeman fidgetted. He realized that he had been over-zealous, but proved his reliability6 by saying: “‘Find out if there’s another Joseph Smith in town whose residence number resembles mine.’”
“Hmm. Exactly. Have you done so?” demanded the employer.
“Not yet. As I was explaining”—
“Explanations are rarely useful. Implicit[97] obedience7 is what I require. When you have followed my instructions bring me the results. I—I am in no especial haste. You needn’t come again to-day. To-morrow morning will answer. Peter, show the gentleman out.”
But for once Peter was not on hand when wanted. Commonly, during an attack of gout, he kept as close to his master as that exacting8 person’s “own shadow.” The old man now looked around in surprise, for not only had Peter, but Josephine, disappeared. There were also voices in the hall, and one of these was unfamiliar9.
“Peter! Peter!” he called, and loudly.
“Yes, Massa Joe. Here am I,” answered the butler, reappearing.
“Who’s out yonder?”
“A—er—ahem!—the little boy from next door, suh.”
“That rough fellow? What’s he want?”
“He, I reckon, he’s just come to call on our Miss Josephine, suh.”
Mr. Smith leaned back in his chair, overcome[98] by astonishment10, and Mr. Wakeman quietly slipped away.
“Send her back in here,” ordered the master of the house.
The little girl came, attended by a red-headed lad, somewhat taller than herself, with whom she had already established a delightful11 intimacy12; for she held fast to his hand and beamed upon him with the tenderest of smiles as she cried:
“Oh, Uncle Joe! Here’s Michael!”
“Huh! Well, Michael, what’s wanted?”
“Josephine, Mr. Smith,” returned the lad.
“Michael, Josephine! How long have you two been acquainted?”
“About five minutes, I guess,” answered the manly13 little chap, pulling a battered14 silver watch from his jacket pocket. The watch was minus a crystal and he calmly adjusted the hands with one red little finger as he announced the hour. “It was just eleven o’clock when I rang the bell, and it’s six minutes past now, Mr. Smith.” Then he shook up his timepiece, generously held it toward Josephine and informed[99] her: “It goes best when it’s hung up sidewise. I’ve had it ever so long. ’Most six months, I reckon.”
“And I’ve had my watch sixteen years,” remarked Mr. Smith, displaying his own costly15 chronometer16, with its double dials and elegant case. “But I should never think of using it as you do yours. Well, what’s wanted with Josephine?” he asked, with an abrupt17 change.
“I’d like to take her sledding,” explained the visitor.
“Well, you can’t. She doesn’t belong to me, and I never lend borrowed articles.”
The countenances18 of both children fell.
“What put it into your head to come here, anyway?” demanded Mr. Smith.
“She did,” answered Michael.
“Josephine? How could she?”
“She saw me when I started out, before the sidewalks were shovelled19, and hollered after me. I couldn’t stop then, ’cause I was going to meet another fellow. When I went in to get a cracker20 I told my grandmother that there[100] was a little girl in here and she wouldn’t believe it. She said”—
Michael paused with so much confusion that his questioner was determined21 to hear just what the lady had remarked, and ordered:
“Well, go on. Never stop in the middle of a sentence, boy.”
“Not even if the sentence isn’t—isn’t a very polite one?”
“What did she say?” repeated Mr. Smith.
“She said you were too selfish and fussy22 to allow a child within your doors,” said the boy, reluctantly.
“You see she was mistaken, don’t you?”
“Yes, Mr. Smith. I explained it to her. I said she must be a visitor, and grandma thought in that case she’d be very lonely. She sent me in to ask permission to take her a ride around the park on my sled. We don’t often have such nice sledding in Baltimore, you know, Mr. Smith.”
“And, Uncle Joe, I was never on a sled in all my whole life!” entreated23 Josephine, folding her hands imploringly24.
[101]“No, sir, that’s what she says. She’s a Californian, from away the other side the map. Where the oranges come from. Say, Josephine, did you bring any oranges with you?” inquired Michael.
“Not one,” said the little girl, regretfully. “I guess there wasn’t time. Mamma and big Bridget had so much packing to do, and Doctor Mack prob’ly didn’t think. I wish I had. I do wish I had.”
“There are plenty of oranges in this city, child. I presume Peter has some now in his pantry. You may ask him, if you like,” said Mr. Smith.
Peter didn’t wait for the asking, but disappeared for a few moments, then to return with a dish of them and place them on the table. The eyes of both children sparkled, for it was the finest of fruit, yet they waited until the butler had brought them plates and napkins before beginning their feast. This little action pleased the fastidious old gentleman, and made him realize that small people are less often ill-bred than he had hitherto imagined them to be.[102] He had based his opinion upon the behavior of some other little folks whom it had been his misfortune to meet upon cars or steamboats, who seemed to be always munching25, and utterly26 careless where their crumbs27 or nutshells fell. This pair was different.
Indeed, had the host known it, Michael had been reared as daintily as Josephine had been. “Company manners” were every-day manners with him, and it was one of Mr. Smith’s beliefs that “breeding shows more plainly at table than anywhere else.” He watched the boy with keenness, and it was due to his present conduct, of which the lad himself was unconscious, that final consent was given to Josephine’s outing.
Selecting an orange the boy asked:
“Shall I fix it for you?”
“If you please,” answered the little girl.
Michael cut the fruit in halves, placed it on a plate, laid a spoon beside it, and offered it to Josephine, who received it with a quiet “Thank you,” and began at once to take the juice in her spoon. When each had finished[103] an orange they were pressed to have a second, and the boy frankly28 accepted, though the girl found more interest in this young companion than in eating.
“It makes a fellow terribly hungry to be out in the snow all morning, Mr. Smith. Seems as if I was always hungry, anyway. Grandma says I am, but I reckon she doesn’t mind. Oh! I forgot. Why, she sent you a note. I never do remember things, somehow.”
“Neither do I,” said Josephine, with ready sympathy.
“You ought to, then. Girls ought to be a great deal better than boys,” answered Michael.
“Why?”
“Oh, because. ’Cause they’re girls, you know.”
Uncle Joe looked up from reading the brief, courteous29 note and felt that that, added to the boy’s own manner, made it safe for him to entrust30 his guest to Michael’s care for a short time.
“Very well, Josephine. Mrs. Merriman, my neighbor, whom I know but slightly, yet is[104] kind to you, requests that I allow you to play with her grandson for an hour. You may do so. But put on your cloak and hat and overshoes, if you have them.”
“I haven’t, Uncle Joe. But I don’t need them. My shoes are as thick as thick. See? Oh, I’m so glad. I never rode on a red sled in all my life, and now I’m going to. Once my papa rode on sleds. He and you—I mean that other uncle, away up in New York somewhere. He’s seen snow as high as my head, my papa has. I never. I never saw only the teeniest-teeniest bit before. It’s lovely, just lovely. If it wasn’t quite so cold. To ride on a sled, a sled, like papa!”
Josephine was anything but quiet now. She danced around and around the room, pausing once and again to hug her uncle, who submitted to the outbursts of affection with wonderful patience, “considerin’,” as Peter reflected.
“What did you ride on, the other side the map?” asked Michael, laying his hand on her arm to stop her movements.
[105]“Why—nothing, ’xcept burros.”
“Huh! Them! Huh! I ride a regular horse in the summer-time, I do. Go get ready, if you’re going. I can’t stand here all day. The fellows are outside now, whistling. Don’t you hear them?”
“But I said she might go with you, because you are—well, your grandmother’s grandson. I didn’t say she might hob-nob with Tom, Dick and Harry31.”
Michael fidgetted. The whistling of his comrades had already put another aspect on the matter. So long as there were no boys in sight to play with, he felt that it would be some fun to play with even a girl; especially one who was so frank and ready as she whom he had seen in Mr. Smith’s doorway32. But now the boys were back. They’d likely laugh and call him “sissy” if he bothered with Josephine, and what fellow likes to be “sissied,” I’d wish to know!
Josephine felt the change in his manner, and realized that there was need for haste, yet, fortunately, nothing deeper than that. It[106] never occurred to her that she could be in anybody’s way, and she returned to the library very promptly33, her red hat thrust coquettishly on one side of her head, and her coat flying apart as she ran. She was so pretty and so eager that the red-headed boy began to feel ashamed of himself, and remembered what his grandmother often told him: that it was the mark of a gentleman to be courteous to women. He was a gentleman, of course. All his forefathers34 had been, down in their ancient home in Virginia, which seemed to be considered a little finer portion of the United States than could be found elsewhere. Let the boys jeer35, if they wanted to. He was in for it and couldn’t back out. So he walked up to Josephine who was giving Uncle Joe a parting kiss, and remarked:
“I’ll button your coat. But put your hat on straight. It won’t stay a minute that way, and when I’m drawing you, I can’t stop all the time to be picking it up. Where’s your gloves? Forgot ’em? Never mind. Here’s my mittens36. Ready? Come on, then. Good[107] morning, Mr. Smith. I’ll take good care of her and fetch her back all right.”
He seized Josephine’s hand, lifted his cap, dropped it over his red hair, and darted37 from the house.
A group of lads, his mates, had congregated38 before the house, recognizing his sled upon the steps, and wondering what could have sent him into that forbidding mansion39. They were ready with questions and demands the instant he should appear, but paused, open-mouthed, when he did actually step out on the marble, leading Josephine. He was not “a Virginian and a gentleman” for nothing. Instinct guided his first words:
“Hello, boys! This is Josephine Smith, from San Diego, California. She’s never seen snow before, worth mentioning, and I’m going to give her a sleighride. Her first one. S’pose we make it a four-in-hand, and something worth while? What say?”
“Will she be afraid?” asked one of them.
“Are you a ’fraid-cat, Josephine?” demanded Michael, sternly, in a don’t-you-dare-to-say-you-are[108] kind of voice, and the little Californian rose to the occasion gallantly40.
“No, I am not. I’m not afraid of anything or anybody—here.”
“Come on, then.”
Ropes were unhitched from another sled and tied to lengthen41 that on Michael’s, while he and another carefully placed the little passenger upon the “Firefly,” bade her “Hold on tight!” and shouted: “Off we are! Let her go, boys, let her go!”
Then began not one hour, but two, of the wildest sport the old square had ever witnessed. The walks traversing it had already been cleared of the snow, but for once there was no restricting “Keep off the grass” visible.
The park was like a great, snowy meadow, across which the four lads darted and pranced42, at the risk of many upsets, their own and Josephine’s, who accepted the plunges43 into the banks of snow heaped beside the paths with the same delight she brought to the smoother passages, where the sled fairly flew behind its hilarious44 “four-in-hands.”
[109]Pedestrians crossing the square were gayly informed that this was “a girl who’d never seen snow before, and we’re giving her enough of it to remember!” Michael was leader, as always, and he led them a merry round, shouting his orders till he was hoarse45, losing his cap and forgetting to pick it up, his red head always to the fore5, and his own enjoyment46 intense.
As for Josephine—words fail to express what those two hours were to her. The excitement of her new friends was mild compared to her own. The snow sparkling in the sunlight, the keen frosty air, the utter enchanting47 newness of the scene, convinced her that she had entered fairyland. Her hat slipped back and hung behind her head, her curls streamed on the wind, her eyes gleamed, her cheeks grew rosy48, and her breath came faster and faster, till at last it seemed that she could only gasp49.
Just then appeared old Peter, holding up a warning hand, since a warning voice would not be heard. The four human ponies50 came to a reluctant pause, stamping their feet and[110] jerking their heads after the approved manner of high-bred horses, impatient of the bit.
“For the land sakes, honey! You done get your death! You’se been out here a right smart longer’n Massa Joe told you might. You come right home with me, little missy, now, if you please,” said the butler.
“We’ll draw her there, Peter. Why, I didn’t know we’d been so long,” apologized Michael.
“Thought you was a young gentleman what carried a watch!”
“So I am, old Peter,” then producing that valuable timepiece he turned it on its side, studied its face, and informed his mates: “Half-past one, fellows, and my grandmother has lunch at one! Whew! Home’s the word!”
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1
confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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2
jaunty
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| adj．愉快的，满足的；adv.心满意足地，洋洋得意地；n.心满意足；洋洋得意 | |
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3
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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4
bestowed
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| 赠给，授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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5
fore
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| adv.在前面；adj.先前的；在前部的；n.前部 | |
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6
reliability
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| n.可靠性，确实性 | |
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7
obedience
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| n.服从，顺从 | |
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8
exacting
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| adj.苛求的，要求严格的 | |
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9
unfamiliar
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| adj.陌生的，不熟悉的 | |
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10
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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11
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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12
intimacy
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| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
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13
manly
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| adj.有男子气概的；adv.男子般地，果断地 | |
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14
battered
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| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
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15
costly
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| adj.昂贵的，价值高的，豪华的 | |
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16
chronometer
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| n.精密的计时器 | |
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17
abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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18
countenances
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| n.面容( countenance的名词复数 )；表情；镇静；道义支持 | |
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19
shovelled
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| v.铲子( shovel的过去式和过去分词 )；锹；推土机、挖土机等的)铲；铲形部份 | |
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20
cracker
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| n.（无甜味的）薄脆饼干 | |
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21
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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22
fussy
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| adj.为琐事担忧的，过分装饰的，爱挑剔的 | |
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23
entreated
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| 恳求，乞求( entreat的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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24
imploringly
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| adv. 恳求地, 哀求地 | |
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25
munching
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| v.用力咀嚼（某物），大嚼( munch的现在分词 ) | |
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26
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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27
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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28
frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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29
courteous
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| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
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30
entrust
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| v.信赖，信托，交托 | |
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31
harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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32
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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33
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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34
forefathers
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| n.祖先，先人；祖先，祖宗( forefather的名词复数 )；列祖列宗；前人 | |
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35
jeer
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| vi.嘲弄，揶揄；vt.奚落；n.嘲笑，讥评 | |
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36
mittens
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| 不分指手套 | |
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37
darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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38
congregated
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| （使）集合，聚集( congregate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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39
mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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40
gallantly
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| adv. 漂亮地，勇敢地，献殷勤地 | |
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41
lengthen
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| vt.使伸长，延长 | |
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42
pranced
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| v.（马）腾跃( prance的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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43
plunges
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| n.跳进，投入vt.使投入，使插入，使陷入vi.投入，跳进，陷入v.颠簸( plunge的第三人称单数 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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44
hilarious
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| adj.充满笑声的，欢闹的；[反]depressed | |
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45
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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46
enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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47
enchanting
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| a.讨人喜欢的 | |
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48
rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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49
gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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50
ponies
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| 矮种马，小型马( pony的名词复数 )； ￡25 25 英镑 | |
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