Of the dead trees soft in their sepulchres,
Pipe to us strangely entering unbidden,
And tenderly still in the tremulous glooms
—ABCHIBALD LAMPMAN.
Winter passed, and then came the spring, with its fresh, warm winds coming up from Lake Simcoe and sweeping4 away the ice and snow in a mad, joyous5 rush of water.
Scotty went barefoot just as soon as there was enough bare ground to step upon. He seemed for a time to cast aside all restraint with his shoes and stockings, and when not in school lived a freebooter's life in the forest.
He and Bruce spent much time wandering, plundering6 and exploring from the edge of the corduroy road where the musk7 and marigolds and fleur-de-lis grew in glorious profusion8 all through the green and golden depths to where the River Oro slipped from its sweet enthralment of reeds and water lilies to go bounding away down the valley to Lake Simcoe. The whole place was a plantation9 of treasures and teemed10 with sounds of life: the blue-jay, the song-sparrow, the robin11, the noisy, red-winged black-bird, the plaintive12 pee-wee, the far-off, clear-ringing whitethroat, the jolly woodpecker, the noisy squirrel, and the shy raccoon—Scotty knew them all intimately, learned their ways and lived their life.
He was given to much idle roaming through the swamp, on the way to and from school, too, and when he went to bring home the cows he remained longer than even Granny could excuse. For that simple task should have been performed in a very short time. He could trace the cattle through the woods with the sure instinct of a sleuth-hound, could distinguish Spotty's tracks from Cherry's, and might have found his own little heifer's in the midst of the public highway. But his skill did not help to make him any more expeditious13, for he often forgot his errand and would lie full length upon the ground, gazing up into the restless, swishing, green sea above, and dreaming wonderful dreams. Callum declared he was a lazy little beggar and ought to be cowhided to make him move, though where one could be found to perform that necessary operation the MacDonald family were not prepared to say.
That he did not altogether develop into a little savage14 was entirely15 due to Granny's tender care. Nowhere was the influence of her beautiful character felt so strongly as by the little grandson. She, who could command her grown-up sons by her mere16 presence, and who was slowly but surely transforming Big Malcolm's wild nature, was quietly moulding the boy's character. Scotty early learned the great lessons of life, the lessons of truth and right, and was well grounded in the knowledge of the things that are eternal. He could read the Bible before he ever entered school, and could repeat the Shorter Catechism with a rapidity that sometimes alarmed Granny, as savouring of irreverence17. He learned a verse of Scripture18 by heart every evening of his life, and the Sabbath was a grand review day.
Sunday was always a red-letter day in Scotty's life, for he generally had Granny to himself. Not that the others were away; for Big Malcolm, who generally ruled his household rather laxly, sternly forbade Sabbath visiting. But the boys wandered off to the barn or the woods after morning prayers, and Big Malcolm dozed19, or smoked, or read his Bible. And then Granny and her boy would climb the little hillock beside the house and sit under the Silver Maple20. This was a fine position, for one could see Lake Oro, stretched out there blue and sparkling in its ring of forest, and far away to the south, a glittering string of diamonds and turquoise21 where Lake Simcoe lay smiling in the sun, and now and then, where a clearing opened the view, the blue flash of the river. And there, with the soft rustle22 of the green and silver canopy23 above, and around the scent24 of the clover and the basswood blossoms, Scotty lay with his head in Granny's lap and heard wonderful stories of One who sat on a hill and spoke25 to the multitude as never man yet spake. And never afterwards, though he sometimes wandered from Granny's teachings, did those Sabbath days lose their hold upon his life.
And so the spring slipped into summer, and one evening a new element came into his life. He was lying on the doorstone, his feet in the cool, dewy grass, dreamily watching the fireflies sparkling away down in the pasture by the woods, and listening to the hoarse26 cry of the night hawks27 as they swooped28 overhead. It was a warm evening, and the leaves of the Silver Maple, still touched by the hot glow of the sunset, hung motionless in the still air.
Rory came out with his fiddle29, and, sitting with his chair tilted30 against the house, droned out a low, sweet, yearning31 song for Bonny Prince Charlie who would return no more, no more. Grandaddy sat near on a bench smoking contentedly32. Since the day of the first prayer meeting at Long Lauchie's, Big Malcolm had lived a life of peace, and had once more regained33 his attitude of happy, kind complacency. Old Farquhar was gone; he had disappeared when the Silver Maple was putting forth34 its buds, and had gone "a kiltin' owre the brae," as he musically expressed it to Scotty; but everyone knew that he would come back in the autumn as surely as the wild ducks went south. Indoors, close to the candle, sat Hamish poring over "Waverley," and Callum could be heard tramping about in the loft36, preparing to go off for the evening. Callum took great pains with his toilette these evenings, Scotty noticed, though the boys did not tease him any more about going to see Mary Lauchie; indeed, there were no more good-natured allusions37 to his courtship. Instead, Scotty had overheard Rory tell Callum, in the barn one day, that "he'd go sparkin' old Teenie McCuaig, though she was seventy and hadn't a tooth in her head, before he'd be seen going down to the Flats to see an Irish girl." And Callum had seized him by the shoulders and flattened38 him up against the wall until he roared for mercy. There was always something in the home atmosphere when Callum started off of an evening now that vaguely39 reminded Scotty of those terrible days following Grandaddy's fight in the Glen. He felt anxiously that his hero was doing something of which his family disapproved40, and wondered fearfully what it might be.
His mind was turned from the contemplation of these difficulties by a sudden change in Rory's tune41. He stopped in the midst of his low, wailing42 dirge43 and struck up loudly the lively air that told again and again of the mirth produced when "Jinny banged the Weaver44." Scotty raised his head and looked across the pasture-field. That tune always ushered45 Weaver Jimmy upon the stage, and there he was, coming over the field, easily recognisable by his huge feet. Before he reached them, the MacDonalds could see that his face was shining with unusual joy.
"Come away, Jimmie, man," called Big Malcolm, "it will be a warm night, whatever."
But the Weaver was too happy to notice anything wrong with the weather. "Hoots46, it will be a fine night for all that, a fine night; and how will you be yourself, Mrs. MacDonald?"
"Hooch!" Jimmie flung one leg over the other with more than usual vigour48. "And that is jist where you will be mistaken, Rory Malcolm, I will jist be coming from there," he admitted with an embarrassed quiver.
"That's what you're generally doin'; how fast did you come?"
"Whisht, whisht, Rory," cried his mother. "It's the foolish lad he is, Jimmie, don't be listening to him. And indeed it's Kirsty John will be the fine girl, so good and so kind to her poor mother. And how would the mother be to-night, Jimmie?"
"Oh, jist about the same, jist about the same; but," he lowered his voice confidentially50, "what do you suppose she would be doin' the night?" "She" was understood to mean Kirsty; for Jimmie never dared take her name upon his tongue.
The Weaver did not deign52 to notice him. "She would be sending me over here on a message!" he cried, and his face shone as if illuminated53 from within.
"Hech! yon's good news, Jimmie!" cried Big Malcolm. "You're comin' on!"
"She'll be sendin' you on a message to another world some o' these days," said Callum coming to the door, looking very handsome, ready for departure.
"Oh, indeed it's yourself had better be lookin' after your own sparkin', Callum Fiach!" cried Weaver Jimmie jovially54. "You'll not be likely to find it as easy as I will, whatever."
Callum turned away with an embarrassed laugh, Rory following him. He did not answer Weaver Jimmie's raillery, as he would have done under other circumstances, for he had caught a look on his father's face that betokened55 trouble. Big Malcolm's eyes flashed angrily and he took his pipe from his mouth as though to call after his son; but his wife's gentle voice interposed. She had, so far, by her quiet tact56, kept the father and son from an open rupture57.
"And what would Kirsty be doing?" she asked, striving to keep her anxiety from showing in her voice. A spasm58 of joy jerked one of the Weaver's legs over the other.
"She would be sending me over here on a message. A good sign, I will be thinkin'," he added, lowering his voice, for the young men were scarcely out of earshot. "Yes, indeed, a good sign, I will be thinkin'. The wee lady from the Captain's came the other day and she would be sending me to get Scotty to come and play with her."
Big Malcolm laughed indulgently. "See yon, Jimmie!" he said, "he'll not be so anxious to go to Kirsty's as some people, indeed."
Jimmie grinned delightedly. Nothing pleased him more than to be twitted about his devotion to his lady.
"Oh, but he must be going," said Granny. "The little girl would be lonely and I would be promising60 Kirsty last winter that he would go."
"Grandaddy don't like her uncle, anyhow," said Scotty. Big Malcolm took his pipe from his mouth. The boy had mentioned a fact for which his grandfather had excellent reasons, but he did not choose that it should be made so apparent to the general public.
"That will be none o' your business, lad," he said sternly, "an' when Kirsty wants ye, ye'll go." Scotty made no reply; he was not quite so chagrined61 as he would have others think. He really wanted to see the little girl with the yellow curls and the big, blue eyes, and demonstrate to her that he was not English, no not one whit3.
So the next morning he set off across the swamp towards Kirsty John's clearing. It was a relief that Grandaddy and the boys had gone for a day's work to the north clearing. This was a tract62 of timber on the shore of Lake Oro which was partially63 cleared, and upon which Callum hoped some day to settle. The distance to it was some miles, and they had taken their dinner and supper; so Scotty felt his disgraceful secret was safe.
He was a long time on the way, of course, for Bruce had gone to the north clearing too and his master had to do double work in racing64 after chipmunks65. Then he loitered purposely, for he was going for the first time in his life to pay a formal visit, and that to a girl. The situation was such as no discreet66 person would plunge67 into without due deliberation.
So the sun was high in the heavens when at last he saw ahead of him the golden light that betokened a clearing, and heard the sound of farm life echoing down the forest avenues.
Kirsty John's farm was a small, rough clearing near the Scotch68 line. There were two or three fields, and in the centre of them a log shanty69 and a small stable. Everything about the place was very neat; for Kirsty's mother was a Lowlander and one of the most particular of that great race of housekeepers70. The little barnyard, ingeniously fenced off with rough poles, the small patch of grass around the doorway71, the neat little flower garden, all showed signs of a woman's tasteful hand. But Kirsty could do the man's part as well. Black John MacDonald had died some years before, leaving his invalid72 wife to the care of their only child. And Kirsty's care had been of the tenderest; and if in the rough battle of life she became a little rough and masculine, the poor crippled mother felt none of it. Kirsty managed everything with a strong, capable hand, from felling trees to spinning yarn73 and making butter. She received plenty of help, of course; Big Malcolm and Long Lauchie were her nearest neighbours, and their families vied with each other in seeing who could do the most for her. Weaver Jimmie, too, would have been willing to let the weaving industry go to ruin if Kirsty would but let him so much as carry in a stick of firewood on a winter evening; but Kirsty kept her despised suitor so busy saving himself from violent bodily injury, when in her presence, that his assistance was not material.
Scotty could see her now as he came down the forest path. She was working in the little rough hayfield, pitching up the forkfuls of hay on to a little oxcart with masculine energy. Her skirt was turned up, showing a striped, homespun petticoat, and beneath it her strong bare ankles. Her pink calico sunbonnet made a dash of colour against the cool green of the woods.
Scotty took a leap at the low brush fence that surrounded the clearing and went over it in one bound. Then he stood stock still with sudden surprise; for there, right in front of him, seated on a low stump75 with an air of patient expectancy76, was a small figure almost enveloped77 in a big, blue sunbonnet.
"Oh!" echoed the Blue Sunbonnet. It came suddenly to life, leaped from the stump and pitched itself upon him. "Oh, oh! I've been watching for you just hours and hours, and I thought you weren't never, never coming!"
The visitor did not know what to say. He was scarcely prepared for such an effusive79 welcome, and was suddenly seized with a fit of shyness.
"You're Scotty, aren't you?" she asked. He nodded and the vision laughed aloud and clapped its small hands. The blue sunbonnet toppled off, showing a shower of riotous80 golden curls, tumbled about in delightful81 confusion; her eyes, big and blue, danced with joy. "Oh, oh, I'm so glad!" she cried. "I 'membered you ever since I saw you in that funny little shop!"
Scotty stared still harder. To hear Store Thompson's establishment designated by such terms was beyond belief.
"I 'membered your eyes!" she added, nodding confidentially. Her baby way of saying "'member" restored Scotty's confidence in himself.
She laughed again and capered83 about him, while he stood and looked at her rather puzzled. He did not see anything to laugh at, and did not yet comprehend that here was a creature so joyous by nature that she must laugh and dance about from sheer spontaneous delight.
"Oh, I'm so glad!" she reiterated84 for the tenth time. "I'll race you to the house!"
She darted85 down the hill like a swallow, her golden hair blown back, her little white bare feet twinkling over the grass. But Scotty was a very greyhound for speed. He leaped after her and in a moment forged ahead. When he had gone sufficiently86 far to show her how fast he could run, he looked back to find her limping slowly after him. The boy's tender heart, always quick to respond to the sight of pain, suddenly smote87 him. He ran swiftly back. "What's the matter?" he asked.
"A fisel," she said plaintively88, dropping upon the grass and showing him the sole of her tender little foot. Running barefoot was not even to be mentioned at home, and she had not yet grown accustomed to the "freedom of the sod." Scotty, whose sturdy little brown feet were shod with leather of their own making, stared contemptuously; she must certainly be a baby to be hurt so easily. Nevertheless, he bent89 down and extracted the tormentor90 with the skill acquired in many summers' apprenticeship92. Then he regarded her with half-disdainful amusement, his shyness all vanished.
"Can't you say thistle?" he inquired.
The big blue eyes regarded him innocently. "I did say fisel," she declared wonderingly.
"No, you didn't, you would jist be saying 'fisel.'"
She stared a moment, then laughed aloud, a clear little bubbling irresistible94 laugh, and this time Scotty laughed with her.
He seated himself cross-legged upon the grass and proceeded to catechise her.
"Your name will be Isabel, won't it?"
"Imph—n—n," the blue bonnet74 nodded emphatically, "Isabel Douglas Herbert, an' my mamma was Scotch, an' my Uncle Walter says I'm his Scotch lassie."
Scotty nodded approval. He could not quite understand, however, how she could be Scotch and live with the English gentry95 on the shores of Lake Oro instead of in the Oa.
"In heaven," said the little one simply, "an' my papa lives there too."
"Oh," said Scotty, "an' my father and mother will be living there too, whatever." He was not to be outdone by her in the matter of ancestry97.
"Do they? Oh, isn't that nice? I guess they visit each other every day. An' you live with your granma, don't you?"
Scotty nodded. "Have you got a Granny too?"
"No, only Granma MacDonald here, but I've got an auntie an' an uncle, an' a cousin. His name's Harold. Have you got a cousin?"
"No." Scotty's face fell. "No, I don't think I will be having any, unless mebby Callum an' Rory an' Hamish would be my cousins, whatever."
"Who's Callum?" Scotty sat up straight, his eyes shining. Callum! Why, he was the most wonderful man in all the township of Oro; and thereupon he proceeded to give her a detailed98 account of the wonderful achievements of "the boys"; how Callum was so big and so strong and could run the logs down the river better than anyone else; how Rory could play the fiddle and dance; and, oh, the stories Hamish could tell!
The blue eyes opposite him grew bigger. "Oh," their owner exclaimed delightedly, "I'm going over to your place to see you some day, an' we'll get Hamish to tell us 'bout35 fairies an' things, won't we? You'll let me come, won't you?"
Scotty hesitated. A girl at home might be a great inconvenience and at best would certainly be an embarrassment99; but his whole life's training had taught him that one's home must ever be at the disposal of all who would enter, and anyone who would not must be urged, even though that person were the niece of Captain Herbert. So he answered cordially, "Oh, yes, 'course, if you want to come."
Miss Isabel sighed happily. "Oh, I think you're awful nice!" she exclaimed. "And is your name just Scotty?"
"Yes!" cried Scotty, very emphatically, "Scotty MacDonald."
"But that isn't all, is it? There's sumpfin' more?"
"No!" exploded Scotty, "there ain't! Some bad folks would be saying that would be my name; but it will be jist Scotty, whatever. And," he looked threatening, "I don't ever be playing with anybody that would be calling me that nasty English name."
His listener seemed properly impressed. "I won't never call you anything but just Scotty!" she promised solemnly.
A call from the house summoned them; Kirsty had hurried in and was searching the milk-house for bannocks and maple syrup100. The children ran through the little barnyard, causing a terrible commotion101 among the fowl102, and up the flower-bordered path to the shanty door. Scotty had not been at Kirsty's since the summer before, when Granny took him to see the poor sick woman who lay in bed weary month after weary month, and now he drew shyly behind his little hostess.
The door of the little log shanty stood open, revealing a bare, spotless room with whitewashed104 walls. There were a couple of old chairs and a rough bench scrubbed a beautiful white like the floor; a curtain of coarse muslin, white and glistening105, draped the little window, and a picture of Bobby Burns in a frame made from the shells of Lake Oro, and another of the youthful Queen Victoria and the Prince Consort106 in a frame ingeniously wrought107 from pine cones108 hung on the wall. A tall cupboard and an old clock with its long hanging weights looked quite familiar and home-like to Scotty. But over in the corner by the window was a sight that struck him painfully and made him draw back. An old four-post bed stood against the log wall and in it lay the shrivelled little figure of Kirsty's mother propped109 up with pillows. She was bent and twisted with rheumatism110, like a little old tree that had been battered111 by storms. But her face was brave and bright, and from it shone a pair of brown eyes with a pathetic inquiry112 in them as of a dumb, uncomprehending creature in pain. She wore a stiff white cap on her thin grey hair, a snowy mutch covered her poor crooked113 shoulders, and everything about her was beautifully neat and clean, showing her daughter's loving care.
"Heh, mother!" cried Kirsty cheerfully, "here's Marget Malcolm's boy at last. Come, Scotty, and mother will be seeing how big you are."
The old woman took the boy's sturdy brown hand in her own poor crooked ones as well as she was able, and peered eagerly into his face.
"Eh, eh!" she cried musingly114. "He will be some like Marget's lass, but he's his faether's bairn; eh, he's got the set an' the look o' yon fine English callant, forbye the MacDonald eyes."
The aforementioned MacDonald eyes drooped115 and the rosy116 MacDonald lips pouted117 at the word English.
"He's awful nice, isn't he, Granma MacDonald?" whispered the little girl.
The old woman gazed at the little fair face, and then back at the boy.
"Strange, strange," she murmured, half audibly. "It's a queer warld, a queer warld, the twa here thegither, an' ane has a', an' the ither has naething. Mebby the good Lord will be settin' it right. Och, aye, He'll set it richt some way."
The children gazed uncomprehendingly at her, but just then Kirsty came forward with a plate of bannocks soaked in maple syrup, and for a time they gave it their absorbed attention.
Then Kirsty soon had to leave them for her work, and after giving the children the freedom of the clearing, provided they did not go near the well, she rearranged her mother's pillows very gently and returned to the field.
The two sat silent by the bedside. Now that their feast was over, the little girl looked with longing118 eyes through the doorway; but Scotty felt constrained119 to wait a few minutes, for Granny had said that Kirsty's mother was sick and lonely and needed comforting.
The old woman looked up with sudden brightness in her eyes. "Can ye read?" she asked eagerly. Oh, yes, Scotty could read, had been able to do so for a very long time.
"I can read too, can't I, Granma MacDonald?" cried the little girl. "I read to you sometimes, don't I?"
"Yes, yes, lassie, ye're jist a wee bit o' sunshine. Eh, what would yer puir auld120 Granny do if ye didna come to see her in the simmer? But Ah want the laddie to read me the wee bit that Kirsty reads me; ye ken49 it, bairnie?"
She pointed121 to the old worn Bible lying on the window sill, with a drowsy122 blue-bottle fly droning about it. The little girl tripped over and brought it to Scotty.
"I know the place, Granma, don't I?" she chattered123; "it's got the blue mark in it. There!" Her rosy finger pointed to a well-worn page, marked by a piece of woven scented124 grass.
"Aye!" said the old woman, with a satisfied look, "that's the bright bit, lassie; Kirsty leaves a mark for Ah canna read. Eh, Ah wish Ah could jist read yon bit. Ah wouldna mind ony ither, but jist yon. Ah'd like to see hoo it looks." Her wrinkled face quivered pitifully, but she made a brave attempt to smile. "Read it, laddie," she whispered.
Scotty took the book and read where his little friend indicated. He read the Bible every day, and this extract was quite familiar; one wonderful story among the many of the Master's love and tenderness towards all the suffering; Luke's beautiful tale of the poor woman who was bent nearly double and was made whole by the potency125 of a Divine word. The boy droned laboriously126 on, and as he came to the words, "And Jesus called her to Him," the old woman put out her feeble hand and caught his arm, her bright brown eyes shining, her withered127 face flushed. "Aye!" she whispered eagerly, "d'ye hear yon? D'ye hear yon? He called her! Aye!" she continued with an air of triumph, "that's it! Sometimes Ah canna quite believe it, but ilka buddy128 reads it jist the same; that's it! He called her Himself. Aye, an' a' the ither buddies129 fleein' aefter Him, an' botherin' Him, but no her, no her! Eh, wasna yon graund! Go on, laddie, go on!" She made a feeble attempt to wipe away the tear that coursed down her wrinkled cheek.
"Eh, isna it bonny!" she cried as the boy finished. "Isna it bonny! Ah suppose Ah'm too auld to learn to read, but Ah'd jist like to read yon bit," she said wistfully.
Little Isabel went softly to her, and tenderly wiped away the tears from the poor old face. "There now, Granma MacDonald," she said in the tender tones she had heard Kirsty use, "you mustn't cry. Maybe Jesus'll come and make you straight too, won't He?"
"Eh, lassie," she whispered, "Ah'm jist waitin' for it. Ah'm houpin' He will. Ah'm jist a burden to puir Kirsty, an' whiles the pain's that bad. Eh, but Ah wish He would. Surely He'd think as much o' me as o' yon auld buddy. Don't ye think He micht, lassie?"
"Course!" cried the little one with the hopefulness of childhood, "course He will, won't He, Scotty?"
Scotty hung his head shyly.
"If Granny was here, she would be tellin' you, whatever," he whispered.
"Aye, that's true, mannie," said the old woman brightening, "Marget McNeil kens130 aboot Him, aye, she kens fine. Eh, but mebby He will," she whispered. She lay back and gazed through the little window, away over the forest-clad hills and dales to where Lake Oro's shining expanse sparkled through the jagged outline of the treetops. Her lips moved, "He called her to Him," she whispered, "an' He said unto her, 'Woman, thou art loosed from thine infirmity.'" She lay very still, a happy light shining in her eyes; the children waited a moment, and then slipped softly out of doors.
When he found himself alone once more with his new acquaintance, Scotty suddenly became shy again. But his diffidence was put to flight in a summary manner. The young lady gave him a smart slap in the face and darted away. "Last tag!" she screamed back over her shoulder. Scotty stood for an instant petrified131 with indignation, and then he was after her like the wind. As they tore through the little barnyard Kirsty called to them not to go near the well, but neither of them heard. Into the woods they dashed, over mossy logs and stones, tearing through the undergrowth and crashing among fallen boughs133. In spite of her fleetness Scotty caught his tormentor as she dodged134 round a tree; he held her in a sturdy grip and shook her for her impudence135 until her sunbonnet fell off. He was somewhat disconcerted to find her accept this treatment with the utmost good humour. Betty would have wailed136 dismally137, but this girl wrenched138 herself free and laughed derisively139.
"You can't hurt like Hal," she said rather disdainfully, "he pulls my hair."
"Well, I'll be doing that too if you slap me again," said Scotty, grateful for the suggestion.
"No, you won't," she declared triumphantly140, "'cause then I wouldn't play with you. I'd just go right back to Granma MacDonald and leave you all alone in the bush. An' I wouldn't show you all the places here. There's a king's castle an' a hole where the goblins comes out of, an' a tree where a bad, bad dwarf141 lives, an'—an'," she was whispering now, "an' heaps of dreadfuller things than that 'way down there." She pointed into the green depths with an air of proprietorship142. Scotty felt a deep respect rising in his heart.
He had thought he knew the forest as the chipmunks know it, but here it was in a new and romantic aspect.
"Where are they?" he inquired quite humbly143; and, satisfied with his demeanour, his mentor91 led the way. Though the royal castle proved to be only a rock and the other enchanted144 places equally familiar to Scotty, she clothed them with such an air of mystery and related such amazing tales concerning each, vouched145 for by no less an authority than Weaver Jimmie, that her listener regarded them and their exponent146 with something like awe147.
They journeyed on, every new turn revealing untold148 wonders and giving an added stimulus149 to the leader's lively imagination. And indeed the forest was a place in which anyone might expect to meet a fairy or a goblin behind every tree. The happy sense of unreality lent by the uncertainty150 of distances, the airy unsubstantial appearance of the leaf-grown earth; the dazzling splashes of golden light on the green, the sudden appearance of open glades151 choked with blossoms; and through all the ringing harmony of a hundred songsters combined to make the woods a veritable fairyland.
And Scotty soon found to his joy that he was to have his part in interpreting its beauties too, for Isabel came to the end of her tales at last and was full of questions. What was that sad little "tee-ee-ee," somebody was always saying away far off. It must be a fairy too. But Scotty had come down to realities now, and felt more at home. That? Why, that was only a whitethroat. Didn't she hear how it said, "Hard-times-in-Canady!" She laughed aloud and imitated the song, setting all the woods a-ring with her clear notes. And what made those bells ring up in the tree? Those weren't bells, they were just veerys, and they said, "Ting-a-ling-a-lee!" But the bobolinks had bells; they would go back to the clearing and hear them ring in the hayfield, and there was a meadow-lark's nest there, and lots of plovers152; yes, and if she would come down to the creek153 that ran across the Scotch line he would show her a mud turtle, and they could catch some fish, and there was a boiling spring there, where the water was so cold you couldn't put your feet into it, and it bubbled all the time, even in the winter.
And then they found flowers, oh, so many flowers, big, pink, bobbing ladles' slippers154, and delicate orchids155 and great flaming swamp lilies; and there were wonderful pitcher-plants, too, with their tall crimson156 blossoms. Scotty explained the workings of the perfidious157 little vessels158, and they sat down and watched with absorbed interest the poor foolish insects slip happily down the silken stairway to certain death. And under Isabel's magic touch the little green pitchers159 became dungeons160, presided over by a wicked giant, and filled with helpless prisoners.
And so they might have rambled161 in this enchanted land all day had not the woman nature asserted itself. Isabel had had enough of fairies and goblins. They must give up this wandering life and settle down, she declared. They would build a house in the fence corner and carpet it with moss132 and have clam162 shells from the creek for dishes. Scotty had fallen quite meekly163 into the unaccustomed rôle of follower164 and was willing that they should go housekeeping, provided he was allowed to play the man's part. He would be Big Wind, the Indian who lived down by Lake Simcoe, and he would go off shooting bears and Lowlanders all day, and she would stay at home and be his squaw and make baskets. But Miss Isabel would be nothing of the kind. She did not like "scraws"; they were very dirty, and came to the back door and sold their baskets. But Scotty might be a great hunter if he wanted, and she would be the lady who lived in the house, and she would cook the dinner and go to the door and call "hoo-hoo" when it was ready, the way Kirsty did when Long Lauchie's boys worked in her fields.
"I see Kirsty now!" she called, seating herself upon a log which formed one side of their mansion165. "I see her 'way over yonder!" Scotty seated himself beside her, flushed and heated with the unwonted exertions166 of house-building.
"Oh, don't you love Kirsty," she cried, giving him an ecstatic shake. "I do; an' I love you, too, Scotty, you're a dear!" Scotty looked slightly uncomfortable, but not wholly displeased167.
"Don't you love to run away off in the bush like this, and have nobody to bother you?" she inquired next.
"Yes." Scotty could cordially assent168 to that. "When I get a man," he said, in a sudden burst of confidence, "I'm goin' to live in a wigwam like Big Wind an' shoot bears!"
"Oh, my!" she cried in delight. "I wish I could live with you, only I don't want to be an ugly scraw, I want to be like Kirsty when I grow big, an' live up here in the Oa, an' pile hay; but I'll have to be like Auntie Eleanor an' wear a black silk dress, oh, dear!"
"No!" she cried disdainfully. "You've always got to take care of it. I want a red petticoat like Kirsty wears, and I want to go in my bare feet all the time, and live in the bush."
"Don't you go in your bare feet at home?" inquired Scotty in amazement.
"No," she admitted mournfully. "Auntie Eleanor says 'tisn't nice for little girls, an' I have to play the piano every morning, an' not make any noise round the house, 'cause you know my poor auntie has headaches all the time. Do you know what's the matter with my auntie?"
"No."
"Well, don't you tell, it's a big secret; she's got the heartbreak!"
"The what?" cried Scotty in alarm.
"The heartbreak. Brian told me. Brian's our coachman, an' I heard him tell Mary Morrison, the cook, and he told me not to never, never tell; but I'll just tell you, and you won't tell, will you, Scotty?"
"No, never. Will it be like the rheumatics Granny has?"
"No-o, I 'spect not; it's when you have headaches an' don't smile nor eat much; not even pie!" She gazed triumphantly into Scotty's interested countenance170. "That's what my auntie's got."
"Would she be catching171 it at school?" he inquired feelingly, moved by recollections of an epidemic172 of measles173 that had raged in Number Nine the winter preceding.
"No, she just got it all by herself. She was going to be married in the church, 'way over in England, and she had a beautiful satin dress and a veil and everything, and he didn't come!"
"Who?" demanded Scotty.
"Why, the gempleman; he was a soldier-man with a grea' big sword, an' he got bad an' went away, an' my auntie got the heartbreak. An' that's why she's sick an' doesn't want me to make a noise or jump."
Scotty looked at her in deep sympathy. "Won't she be letting you jump?" he asked in awe.
"Not much," she said with a fine martyr-like air. "She says 'tisn't lady-like, an' she's going to send me to a school in Toronto when I get big, where it's all girls, and not one of them ever, ever jumps once!"
"I wouldn't be going!" cried Scotty firmly. "I'd jump—I'd jump out of the window an' run away, whatever!"
Her eyes sparkled. "Oh, p'raps I could do that too! I'd run away an' come to Kirsty. She doesn't mind if I jump an' make a noise, an' Kirsty never makes me sew. Oh, Scotty, you don't ever have to sew, do you?"
She sighed deeply. "I wish I was a boy! Harold never has to sew, but Harold goes to school 'way in Toronto all the time an' maybe they don't let him jump there. I'd jump!" she cried, springing from the log and laughing joyously175, "oh, wouldn't I! Last tag, Scotty!" and she was once more off into the woods and Scotty after her.
Such a happy day as it was, but it was over at last, and after they had eaten their supper, where Kirsty served it to them in their playhouse, Scotty went to the house to bid the old woman good-bye, and started for home.
The little girl followed him sadly and slowly to the edge of the clearing.
"When'll you come back again?" she asked pleadingly.
"I'll not know," said Scotty patronisingly, "I don't often play with girls."
The blue sunbonnet drooped; its owner's assurance and independence had all vanished. "You might come next Saturday," she suggested humbly.
"Well," said Scotty handsomely, "mebby I'll be coming."
"I'm going to ask Kirsty if I can't go to school with you some day!" she cried audaciously.
Scotty looked alarmed. In reality he was most eager to return and resume housekeeping in the fence-corner, but to have this stranger go to school with him would never do. The boys would laugh at him, and already he had sufficient trials with Betty Lauchie since Peter stopped going to school.
"Oh, it's too far!" he cried hastily, "an' there will be an awful cross master there!"
"I don't care, you wouldn't let him touch me, would you?"
"If you don't ask Kirsty, I'll come over all next Saturday, an' mebby she'll be letting you come to my place; it's nicer than school."
So thus comforted, Isabel climbed the stump and swung her sunbonnet as long as the slanting176 sunlight showed the little figure running down the fast darkening forest-pathway; and just before the shadows swallowed him up, he turned and waved his cap in farewell.
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1
pensive
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| a.沉思的,哀思的,忧沉的 | |
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2
scatter
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| vt.撒，驱散，散开；散布/播；vi.分散，消散 | |
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3
whit
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| n.一点，丝毫 | |
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sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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joyous
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| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
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plundering
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| 掠夺，抢劫( plunder的现在分词 ) | |
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musk
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| n.麝香, 能发出麝香的各种各样的植物，香猫 | |
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profusion
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| n.挥霍；丰富 | |
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plantation
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| n.种植园，大农场 | |
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10
teemed
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| v.充满( teem的过去式和过去分词 )；到处都是；（指水、雨等）暴降；倾注 | |
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robin
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| n.知更鸟，红襟鸟 | |
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plaintive
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| adj.可怜的，伤心的 | |
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13
expeditious
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| adj.迅速的，敏捷的 | |
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14
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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15
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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16
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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17
irreverence
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| n.不尊敬 | |
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18
scripture
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| n.经文，圣书，手稿；Scripture:(常用复数)《圣经》，《圣经》中的一段 | |
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19
dozed
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| v.打盹儿，打瞌睡( doze的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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20
maple
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| n.槭树，枫树，槭木 | |
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21
turquoise
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| n.绿宝石；adj.蓝绿色的 | |
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22
rustle
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| v.沙沙作响；偷盗(牛、马等)；n.沙沙声声 | |
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23
canopy
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| n.天篷，遮篷 | |
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24
scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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25
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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26
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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27
hawks
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| 鹰( hawk的名词复数 )； 鹰派人物，主战派人物 | |
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28
swooped
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| 俯冲，猛冲( swoop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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29
fiddle
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| n.小提琴；vi.拉提琴；不停拨弄，乱动 | |
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30
tilted
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| v. 倾斜的 | |
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yearning
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| a.渴望的；向往的；怀念的 | |
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32
contentedly
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| adv.心满意足地 | |
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33
regained
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| 复得( regain的过去式和过去分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
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34
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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bout
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| n.侵袭，发作；一次(阵，回)；拳击等比赛 | |
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36
loft
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| n.阁楼，顶楼 | |
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allusions
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| 暗指，间接提到( allusion的名词复数 ) | |
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flattened
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| [医]（水）平扁的，弄平的 | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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40
disapproved
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| v.不赞成( disapprove的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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41
tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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42
wailing
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的现在分词 )；沱 | |
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43
dirge
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| n.哀乐，挽歌，庄重悲哀的乐曲 | |
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44
weaver
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| n.织布工；编织者 | |
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45
ushered
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| v.引，领，陪同( usher的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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46
hoots
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| 咄，啐 | |
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47
chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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48
vigour
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| （=vigor）n.智力，体力，精力 | |
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49
ken
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| n.视野，知识领域 | |
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50
confidentially
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| ad.秘密地，悄悄地 | |
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51
clout
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| n.用手猛击；权力，影响力 | |
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52
deign
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| v. 屈尊, 惠允 ( 做某事) | |
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53
illuminated
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| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
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54
jovially
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| adv.愉快地，高兴地 | |
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55
betokened
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| v.预示，表示( betoken的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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56
tact
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| n.机敏，圆滑，得体 | |
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57
rupture
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| n.破裂；(关系的)决裂；v.(使)破裂 | |
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58
spasm
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| n.痉挛，抽搐；一阵发作 | |
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59
scoffed
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| 嘲笑，嘲弄( scoff的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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60
promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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61
chagrined
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| adj.懊恼的，苦恼的v.使懊恼，使懊丧，使悔恨( chagrin的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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62
tract
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| n.传单，小册子，大片(土地或森林) | |
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63
partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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64
racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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65
chipmunks
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| n.金花鼠( chipmunk的名词复数 ) | |
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66
discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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67
plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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68
scotch
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| n.伤口，刻痕；苏格兰威士忌酒；v.粉碎，消灭，阻止；adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
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69
shanty
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| n.小屋，棚屋；船工号子 | |
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70
housekeepers
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| n.（女）管家( housekeeper的名词复数 ) | |
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71
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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72
invalid
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| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
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73
yarn
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| n.纱，纱线，纺线；奇闻漫谈，旅行轶事 | |
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74
bonnet
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| n.无边女帽；童帽 | |
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75
stump
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| n.残株，烟蒂，讲演台；v.砍断，蹒跚而走 | |
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76
expectancy
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| n.期望，预期，（根据概率统计求得）预期数额 | |
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77
enveloped
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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78
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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79
effusive
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| adj.热情洋溢的；感情(过多)流露的 | |
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80
riotous
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| adj.骚乱的；狂欢的 | |
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81
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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82
sedately
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| adv.镇静地，安详地 | |
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83
capered
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| v.跳跃，雀跃( caper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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84
reiterated
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| 反复地说，重申( reiterate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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85
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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86
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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87
smote
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| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去式 ) | |
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88
plaintively
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| adv.悲哀地，哀怨地 | |
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89
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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90
tormentor
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| n. 使苦痛之人, 使苦恼之物, 侧幕 =tormenter | |
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91
mentor
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| n.指导者，良师益友；v.指导 | |
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92
apprenticeship
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| n.学徒身份；学徒期 | |
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93
disdain
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| n.鄙视，轻视；v.轻视，鄙视，不屑 | |
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94
irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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95
gentry
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| n.绅士阶级，上层阶级 | |
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96
dubiously
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| adv.可疑地，怀疑地 | |
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97
ancestry
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| n.祖先，家世 | |
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98
detailed
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| adj.详细的，详尽的，极注意细节的，完全的 | |
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99
embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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100
syrup
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| n.糖浆，糖水 | |
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101
commotion
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| n.骚动，动乱 | |
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102
fowl
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| n.家禽，鸡，禽肉 | |
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103
heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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104
whitewashed
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| 粉饰，美化，掩饰( whitewash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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105
glistening
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| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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106
consort
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| v.相伴；结交 | |
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107
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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108
cones
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| n.（人眼）圆锥细胞；圆锥体( cone的名词复数 )；球果；圆锥形东西；（盛冰淇淋的）锥形蛋卷筒 | |
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109
propped
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| 支撑，支持，维持( prop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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110
rheumatism
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| n.风湿病 | |
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111
battered
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| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
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112
inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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113
crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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114
musingly
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| adv.沉思地，冥想地 | |
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115
drooped
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| 弯曲或下垂，发蔫( droop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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116
rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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117
pouted
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| v.撅（嘴）( pout的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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118
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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constrained
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| adj.束缚的,节制的 | |
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auld
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| adj.老的，旧的 | |
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121
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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122
drowsy
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| adj.昏昏欲睡的，令人发困的 | |
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123
chattered
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| （人）喋喋不休( chatter的过去式 )； 唠叨； （牙齿）打战； （机器）震颤 | |
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124
scented
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| adj.有香味的；洒香水的；有气味的v.嗅到(scent的过去分词) | |
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125
potency
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| n. 效力，潜能 | |
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126
laboriously
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| adv.艰苦地；费力地；辛勤地；（文体等）佶屈聱牙地 | |
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127
withered
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| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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128
buddy
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| n.（美口）密友，伙伴 | |
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129
buddies
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| n.密友( buddy的名词复数 )；同伴；弟兄；（用于称呼男子，常带怒气）家伙v.（如密友、战友、伙伴、弟兄般）交往( buddy的第三人称单数 )；做朋友；亲近（…）；伴护艾滋病人 | |
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kens
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| vt.知道（ken的第三人称单数形式） | |
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petrified
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| adj.惊呆的；目瞪口呆的v.使吓呆，使惊呆；变僵硬；使石化(petrify的过去式和过去分词) | |
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132
moss
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| n.苔，藓，地衣 | |
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133
boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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134
dodged
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| v.闪躲( dodge的过去式和过去分词 )；回避 | |
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impudence
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| n.厚颜无耻；冒失；无礼 | |
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wailed
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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137
dismally
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| adv.阴暗地，沉闷地 | |
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138
wrenched
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| v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的过去式和过去分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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139
derisively
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| adv. 嘲笑地，嘲弄地 | |
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140
triumphantly
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| ad.得意洋洋地；得胜地；成功地 | |
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141
dwarf
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| n.矮子，侏儒，矮小的动植物；vt.使…矮小 | |
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proprietorship
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| n.所有（权）；所有权 | |
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143
humbly
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| adv. 恭顺地，谦卑地 | |
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144
enchanted
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| adj. 被施魔法的，陶醉的，入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
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vouched
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| v.保证( vouch的过去式和过去分词 )；担保；确定；确定地说 | |
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146
exponent
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| n.倡导者，拥护者；代表人物；指数，幂 | |
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awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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untold
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| adj.数不清的，无数的 | |
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149
stimulus
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| n.刺激，刺激物，促进因素，引起兴奋的事物 | |
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150
uncertainty
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| n.易变，靠不住，不确知，不确定的事物 | |
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151
glades
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| n.林中空地( glade的名词复数 ) | |
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152
plovers
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| n.珩，珩科鸟（如凤头麦鸡）( plover的名词复数 ) | |
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153
creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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154
slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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155
orchids
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| n.兰花( orchid的名词复数 ) | |
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156
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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157
perfidious
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| adj.不忠的，背信弃义的 | |
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158
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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159
pitchers
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| 大水罐( pitcher的名词复数 ) | |
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160
dungeons
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| n.地牢( dungeon的名词复数 ) | |
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161
rambled
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| （无目的地）漫游( ramble的过去式和过去分词 )； （喻）漫谈； 扯淡； 长篇大论 | |
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162
clam
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| n.蛤，蛤肉 | |
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163
meekly
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| adv.温顺地，逆来顺受地 | |
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164
follower
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| n.跟随者；随员；门徒；信徒 | |
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165
mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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166
exertions
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| n.努力( exertion的名词复数 )；费力；（能力、权力等的）运用；行使 | |
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167
displeased
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| a.不快的 | |
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168
assent
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| v.批准，认可；n.批准，认可 | |
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169
liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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170
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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171
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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172
epidemic
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| n.流行病；盛行；adj.流行性的，流传极广的 | |
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173
measles
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| n.麻疹，风疹，包虫病，痧子 | |
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174
mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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175
joyously
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| ad.快乐地, 高兴地 | |
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176
slanting
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| 倾斜的，歪斜的 | |
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