The visit to the camp was a time to be remembered long by all the inhabitants of the bunk1-house, and even by Margaret herself. Margaret wondered Friday evening, as she sat up late, working away braiding a lovely gray bonnet2 out of folds of malines, and fashioning it into form for Mom Wallis, why she was looking forward to the visit with so much more real pleasure than she had done to the one the week before at the Temples'. And so subtle is the heart of a maid that she never fathomed3 the real reason.
The Temples', of course, was interesting and delightful4 as being something utterly5 new in her experience. It was comparatively luxurious6, and there were pleasant, cultured people there, more from her own social class in life. But it was going to be such fun to surprise Mom Wallis with that bonnet and see her old face light up when she saw herself in the little folding three-leaved mirror she was taking along with her and meant to leave for Mom Wallis's log boudoir. She was quite excited over selecting some little thing for each one of the men—books, pictures, a piece of music, a bright cushion, and a pile of picture magazines. It made a big bundle when she had them together, and she was dubious7 if she ought to try to carry them all; but Bud, whom she consulted on the subject, said, loftily, it "wasn't a flea-bite for the Kid; he could carry anything on a horse."
Bud was just a little jealous to have his beloved teacher away from home so much, and rejoiced greatly when Gardley, Friday afternoon, suggested that he come along, too. He made quick time to his home, and secured a hasty permission and wardrobe, appearing like a footman on his father's old horse when they were half a mile down the trail.
Mom Wallis was out at the door to greet her guest when she arrived, for Margaret had chosen to make her visit last from Friday afternoon after school, until Monday morning. It was the generosity8 of her nature that she gave to her utmost when she gave.
The one fear she had entertained about coming had been set at rest on the way when Gardley told her that Pop Wallis was off on one of his long trips, selling cattle, and would probably not return for a week. Margaret, much as she trusted Gardley and the men, could not help dreading9 to meet Pop Wallis again.
There was a new trimness about the old bunk-house. The clearing had been cleaned up and made neat, the grass cut, some vines set out and trained up limply about the door, and the windows shone with Mom Wallis's washing.
Mom Wallis herself was wearing her best white apron10, stiff with starch11, her lace collar, and her hair in her best imitation of the way Margaret had fixed12 it, although it must be confessed she hadn't quite caught the knack13 of arrangement yet. But the one great difference Margaret noticed in the old woman was the illuminating14 smile on her face. Mom Wallis had learned how to let the glory gleam through all the hard sordidness15 of her life, and make earth brighter for those about her.
The curtains certainly made a great difference in the looks of the bunk-house, together with a few other changes. The men had made some chairs—three of them, one out of a barrel; and together they had upholstered them roughly. The cots around the walls were blazing with their red blankets folded smoothly16 and neatly17 over them, and on the floor in front of the hearth18, which had been scrubbed, Gardley had spread a Navajo blanket he had bought of an Indian.
The fireplace was piled with logs ready for the lighting19 at night, and from somewhere a lamp had been rigged up and polished till it shone in the setting sun that slanted20 long rays in at the shining windows.
The men were washed and combed, and had been huddled21 at the back of the bunk-house for an hour, watching the road, and now they came forward awkwardly to greet their guest, their horny hands scrubbed to an unbelievable whiteness. They did not say much, but they looked their pleasure, and Margaret greeted every one as if he were an old friend, the charming part about it all to the men being that she remembered every one's name and used it.
Bud hovered22 in the background and watched with starry23 eyes. Bud was having the time of his life. He preferred the teacher's visiting the camp rather than the fort. The "Howdy, sonny!" which he had received from the men, and the "Make yourself at home, Bill" from Gardley, had given him great joy; and the whole thing seemed somehow to link him to the teacher in a most distinguishing manner.
Supper was ready almost immediately, and Mom Wallis had done her best to make it appetizing. There was a lamb stew24 with potatoes, and fresh corn bread with coffee. The men ate with relish25, and watched their guest of honor as if she had been an angel come down to abide26 with them for a season. There was a tablecloth27 on the old table, too—a white tablecloth. It looked remarkably28 like an old sheet, to be sure, with a seam through the middle where it had been worn and turned and sewed together; but it was a tablecloth now, and a marvel29 to the men. And the wonder about Margaret was that she could eat at such a table and make it seem as though that tablecloth were the finest damask, and the two-tined forks the heaviest of silver.
After the supper was cleared away and the lamp lighted, the gifts were brought out. A book of Scotch30 poetry for Jasper Kemp, bound in tartan covers of the Campbell clan31; a small illustrated32 pamphlet of Niagara Falls for Big Jim, because he had said he wanted to see the place and never could manage it; a little pictured folder33 of Washington City for Big Jim; a book of old ballad34 music for Fiddling35 Boss; a book of jokes for Fade-away Forbes; a framed picture of a beautiful shepherd dog for Stocky; a big, red, ruffled36 denim37 pillow for Croaker, because when she was there before he was always complaining about the seats being hard; a great blazing crimson38 pennant39 bearing the name HARVARD in big letters for Fudge, because she had remembered he was from Boston; and for Mom Wallis a framed text beautifully painted in water-colors, done in rustic40 letters twined with stray forget-me-nots, the words, "Come unto Me, all ye that labor41 and are heavy laden42, and I will give you rest." Margaret had made that during the week and framed it in a simple raffia braid of brown and green.
It was marvelous how these men liked their presents; and while they were examining them and laughing about them and putting their pictures and Mom Wallis's text on the walls, and the pillow on a bunk, and the pennant over the fireplace, Margaret shyly held out a tiny box to Gardley.
"I thought perhaps you would let me give you this," she said. "It isn't much; it isn't even new, and it has some marks in it; but I thought it might help with your new undertaking43."
Gardley took it with a lighting of his face and opened the box. In it was a little, soft, leather-bound Testament44, showing the marks of usage, yet not worn. It was a tiny thing, very thin, easily fitting in a vest-pocket, and not a burden to carry. He took the little book in his hand, removed the silken rubber band that bound it, and turned the leaves reverently45 in his fingers, noting that there were pencil-marks here and there. His face was all emotion as he looked up at the giver.
"I thank you," he said, in a low tone, glancing about to see that no one was noticing them. "I shall prize it greatly. It surely will help. I will read it every day. Was that what you wanted? And I will carry it with me always."
His voice was very earnest, and he looked at her as though she had given him a fortune. With another glance about at the preoccupied46 room—even Bud was busy studying Jasper Kemp's oldest gun—he snapped the band on the book again and put it carefully in his inner breast-pocket. The book would henceforth travel next his heart and be his guide. She thought he meant her to understand that, as he put out his hand unobtrusively and pressed her fingers gently with a quick, low "Thank you!"
Then Mom Wallis's bonnet was brought out and tied on her, and the poor old woman blushed like a girl when she stood with meek47 hands folded at her waist and looked primly48 about on the family for their approval at Margaret's request. But that was nothing to the way she stared when Margaret got out the threefold mirror and showed her herself in the new headgear. She trotted49 away at last, the wonderful bonnet in one hand, the box in the other, a look of awe50 on her face, and Margaret heard her murmur51 as she put it away: "Glory! Me! Glory!"
Then Margaret had to read one or two of the poems for Jasper Kemp, while they all sat and listened to her Scotch and marveled at her. A woman like that condescending52 to come to visit them!
She gave a lesson in note-reading to the Fiddling Boss, pointing one by one with her white fingers to the notes until he was able to creep along and pick out "Suwanee River" and "Old Folks at Home" to the intense delight of the audience.
Margaret never knew just how it was that she came to be telling the men a story, one she had read not long before in a magazine, a story with a thrilling national interest and a keen personal touch that searched the hearts of men; but they listened as they had never listened to anything in their lives before.
And then there was singing, more singing, until it bade fair to be morning before they slept, and the little teacher was weary indeed when she lay down on the cot in Mom Wallis's room, after having knelt beside the old woman and prayed.
The next day there was a wonderful ride with Gardley and Bud to the cañon of the cave-dwellers, and a coming home to the apple dumplings she had taught Mom Wallis to make before she went away. All day Gardley and she, with Bud for delighted audience, had talked over the play she was getting up at the school, Gardley suggesting about costumes and tree boughs53 for scenery, and promising54 to help in any way she wanted. Then after supper there were jokes and songs around the big fire, and some popcorn55 one of the men had gone a long ride that day to get. They called for another story, too, and it was forthcoming.
It was Sunday morning after breakfast, however, that Margaret suddenly wondered how she was going to make the day helpful and different from the other days.
She stood for a moment looking out of the clear little window thoughtfully, with just the shadow of a sigh on her lips, and as she turned back to the room she met Gardley's questioning glance.
"Are you homesick?" he asked, with a sorry smile. "This must all be very different from what you are accustomed to."
"Oh no, it isn't that." She smiled, brightly. "I'm not a baby for home, but I do get a bit homesick about church-time. Sunday is such a strange day to me without a service."
"Why not have one, then?" he suggested, eagerly. "We can sing and—you could—do the rest!"
Her eyes lighted at the suggestion, and she cast a quick glance at the men. Would they stand for that sort of thing?
Gardley followed her glance and caught her meaning. "Let them answer for themselves," he said quickly in a low tone, and then, raising his voice: "Speak up, men. Do you want to have church? Miss Earle here is homesick for a service, and I suggest that we have one, and she conduct it."
"Sure!" said Jasper Kemp, his face lighting. "I'll miss my guess if she can't do better than the parson we had last Sunday. Get into your seats, boys; we're goin' to church."
Margaret's face was a study of embarrassment56 and delight as she saw the alacrity57 with which the men moved to get ready for "church." Her quick brain turned over the possibility of what she could read or say to help this strange congregation thus suddenly thrust upon her.
It was a testimony58 to her upbringing by a father whose great business of life was to preach the gospel that she never thought once of hesitating or declining the opportunity, but welcomed it as an opportunity, and only deprecated her unreadiness for the work.
The men stirred about, donned their coats, furtively59 brushing their hair, and Long Bill insisted that Mom Wallis put on her new bonnet; which she obligingly did, and sat down carefully in the barrel-chair, her hands neatly crossed in her lap, supremely60 happy. It really was wonderful what a difference that bonnet made in Mom Wallis.
Gardley arranged a comfortable seat for Margaret at the table and put in front of her one of the hymn61-books she had brought. Then, after she was seated, he took the chair beside her and brought out the little Testament from his breast-pocket, gravely laying it on the hymn-book.
Margaret met his eyes with a look of quick appreciation62. It was wonderful the way these two were growing to understand each other. It gave the girl a thrill of wonder and delight to have him do this simple little thing for her, and the smile that passed between them was beautiful to see. Long Bill turned away his head and looked out of the window with an improvised63 sneeze to excuse the sudden mist that came into his eyes.
Margaret chose "My Faith looks up to Thee" for the first hymn, because Fiddling Boss could play it, and while he was tuning64 up his fiddle65 she hastily wrote out two more copies of the words. And so the queer service started with a quaver of the old fiddle and the clear, sweet voices of Margaret and Gardley leading off, while the men growled66 on their way behind, and Mom Wallis, in her new gray bonnet, with her hair all fluffed softly gray under it, sat with eyes shining like a girl's.
So absorbed in the song were they all that they failed to hear the sound of a horse coming into the clearing. But just as the last words of the final verse died away the door of the bunk-house swung open, and there in the doorway67 stood Pop Wallis!
The men sprang to their feet with one accord, ominous68 frowns on their brows, and poor old Mom Wallis sat petrified69 where she was, the smile of relaxation70 frozen on her face, a look of fear growing in her tired old eyes.
Now Pop Wallis, through an unusual combination of circumstances, had been for some hours without liquor and was comparatively sober. He stood for a moment staring amazedly at the group around his fireside. Perhaps because he had been so long without his usual stimulant71 his mind was weakened and things appeared as a strange vision to him. At any rate, he stood and stared, and as he looked from one to another of the men, at the beautiful stranger, and across to the strangely unfamiliar72 face of his wife in her new bonnet, his eyes took on a frightened look. He slowly took his hand from the door-frame and passed it over his eyes, then looked again, from one to another, and back to his glorified73 wife.
Margaret had half risen at her end of the table, and Gardley stood beside her as if to reassure74 her; but Pop Wallis was not looking at any of them any more. His eyes were on his wife. He passed his hand once more over his eyes and took one step gropingly into the room, a hand reached out in front of him, as if he were not sure but he might run into something on the way, the other hand on his forehead, a dazed look in his face.
"Why, Mom—that ain't really—you, now, is it?" he said, in a gentle, insinuating75 voice like one long unaccustomed making a hasty prayer.
The tone made a swift change in the old woman. She gripped her bony hands tight and a look of beatific76 joy came into her wrinkled face.
"Yes, it's really me, Pop!" she said, with a kind of triumphant77 ring to her voice.
"But—but—you're right here, ain't you? You ain't dead, an'—an'—gone to—gl-oo-ry, be you? You're right here?"
"Yes, I'm right here, Pop. I ain't dead! Pop—glory's come to me!"
"Glory?" repeated the man, dazedly78. "Glory?" And he gazed around the room and took in the new curtains, the pictures on the wall, the cushions and chairs, and the bright, shining windows. "You don't mean it's heav'n, do you, Mom? 'Cause I better go back—I don't belong in heav'n. Why, Mom, it can't be glory, 'cause it's the same old bunk-house outside, anyhow."
"Yes, it's the same old bunk-house, and it ain't heaven, but it's goin' to be. The glory's come all right. You sit down, Pop; we're goin' to have church, and this is my new bonnet. She brang it. This is the new school-teacher, Miss Earle, and she's goin' to have church. She done it all! You sit down and listen."
Pop Wallis took a few hesitating steps into the room and dropped into the nearest chair. He looked at Margaret as if she might be an angel holding open the portal to a kingdom in the sky. He looked and wondered and admired, and then he looked back to his glorified old wife again in wonder.
Jasper Kemp shut the door, and the company dropped back into their places. Margaret, because of her deep embarrassment, and a kind of inward trembling that had taken possession of her, announced another hymn.
It was a solemn little service, quite unique, with a brief, simple prayer and an expository reading of the story of the blind man from the sixth chapter of John. The men sat attentively79, their eyes upon her face as she read; but Pop Wallis sat staring at his wife, an awed80 light upon his scared old face, the wickedness and cunning all faded out, and only fear and wonder written there.
In the early dawning of the pink-and-silver morning Margaret went back to her work, Gardley riding by her side, and Bud riding at a discreet81 distance behind, now and then going off at a tangent after a stray cottontail. It was wonderful what good sense Bud seemed to have on occasion.
The horse that Margaret rode, a sturdy little Western pony82, with nerve and grit83 and a gentle common sense for humans, was to remain with her in Ashland, a gift from the men of the bunk-house. During the week that followed Archie Forsythe came riding over with a beautiful shining saddle-horse for her use during her stay in the West; but when he went riding back to the ranch84 the shining saddle-horse was still in his train, riderless, for Margaret told him that she already had a horse of her own. Neither had Margaret accepted the invitation to the Temples' for the next week-end. She had other plans for the Sabbath, and that week there appeared on all the trees and posts about the town, and on the trails, a little notice of a Bible class and vesper-service to be held in the school-house on the following Sabbath afternoon; and so Margaret, true daughter of her minister-father, took up her mission in Ashland for the Sabbaths that were to follow; for the school-board had agreed with alacrity to such use of the school-house.
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1
bunk
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| n.(车、船等倚壁而设的)铺位；废话 | |
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bonnet
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| n.无边女帽；童帽 | |
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fathomed
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| 理解…的真意( fathom的过去式和过去分词 )； 彻底了解； 弄清真相 | |
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4
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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7
dubious
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| adj.怀疑的，无把握的；有问题的，靠不住的 | |
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8
generosity
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| n.大度，慷慨，慷慨的行为 | |
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9
dreading
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| v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的现在分词 ) | |
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10
apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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starch
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| n.淀粉；vt.给...上浆 | |
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12
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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knack
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| n.诀窍，做事情的灵巧的，便利的方法 | |
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14
illuminating
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| a.富于启发性的，有助阐明的 | |
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15
sordidness
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| n.肮脏；污秽；卑鄙；可耻 | |
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smoothly
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| adv.平滑地，顺利地，流利地，流畅地 | |
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neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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19
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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20
slanted
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| 有偏见的； 倾斜的 | |
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huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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hovered
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| 鸟( hover的过去式和过去分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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23
starry
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| adj.星光照耀的, 闪亮的 | |
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24
stew
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| n.炖汤，焖，烦恼；v.炖汤，焖，忧虑 | |
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relish
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| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
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26
abide
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| vi.遵守；坚持；vt.忍受 | |
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tablecloth
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| n.桌布，台布 | |
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remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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marvel
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| vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异；n.令人惊异的事 | |
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30
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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clan
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| n.氏族，部落，宗族，家族，宗派 | |
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illustrated
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| adj. 有插图的，列举的 动词illustrate的过去式和过去分词 | |
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folder
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| n.纸夹，文件夹 | |
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ballad
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| n.歌谣，民谣，流行爱情歌曲 | |
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fiddling
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| 微小的 | |
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ruffled
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| adj. 有褶饰边的, 起皱的 动词ruffle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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denim
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| n.斜纹棉布；斜纹棉布裤，牛仔裤 | |
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crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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pennant
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| n.三角旗；锦标旗 | |
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40
rustic
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| adj.乡村的，有乡村特色的；n.乡下人，乡巴佬 | |
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41
labor
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| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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42
laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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43
undertaking
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| n.保证，许诺，事业 | |
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44
testament
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| n.遗嘱；证明 | |
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45
reverently
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| adv.虔诚地 | |
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46
preoccupied
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| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
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47
meek
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| adj.温顺的，逆来顺受的 | |
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48
primly
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| adv.循规蹈矩地，整洁地 | |
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49
trotted
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| 小跑，急走( trot的过去分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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50
awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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51
murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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52
condescending
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| adj.谦逊的,故意屈尊的 | |
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53
boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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54
promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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55
popcorn
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| n.爆米花 | |
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56
embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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57
alacrity
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| n.敏捷，轻快，乐意 | |
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58
testimony
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| n.证词；见证，证明 | |
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59
furtively
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| adv. 偷偷地, 暗中地 | |
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supremely
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| adv.无上地，崇高地 | |
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hymn
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| n.赞美诗，圣歌，颂歌 | |
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appreciation
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| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
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improvised
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| a.即席而作的,即兴的 | |
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tuning
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| n.调谐，调整，调音v.调音( tune的现在分词 )；调整；（给收音机、电视等）调谐；使协调 | |
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fiddle
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| n.小提琴；vi.拉提琴；不停拨弄，乱动 | |
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growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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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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relaxation
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| n.松弛，放松；休息；消遣；娱乐 | |
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stimulant
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| n.刺激物，兴奋剂 | |
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unfamiliar
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| adj.陌生的，不熟悉的 | |
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glorified
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| 美其名的，变荣耀的 | |
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reassure
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| v.使放心，使消除疑虑 | |
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insinuating
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| adj.曲意巴结的，暗示的v.暗示( insinuate的现在分词 )；巧妙或迂回地潜入；（使）缓慢进入；慢慢伸入 | |
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beatific
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| adj.快乐的，有福的 | |
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triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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dazedly
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| 头昏眼花地，眼花缭乱地，茫然地 | |
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attentively
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| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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awed
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| adj.充满敬畏的，表示敬畏的v.使敬畏，使惊惧( awe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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81
discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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pony
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| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
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grit
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| n.沙粒，决心，勇气；v.下定决心，咬紧牙关 | |
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ranch
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| n.大牧场，大农场 | |
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