Queechy Volume I Part 52

It was rather a longish walk to uncle Joshua's, and hardly a word spoken on either side.

The old gentleman was "to hum;" and while Fleda went back into some remote part of the house to see "aunt Syra," Mr. Rossitur set forth his errand.

"Well, and so you're looking for help ? eh?" said uncle Joshua, when he had heard him through.

"Yes, Sir ? I want help."

"And a team too?"

"So I have said, Sir," Mr. Rossitur answered rather shortly.

"Can you supply me?"

"Well, I don't know as I can," said the old man, rubbing his hands slowly over his knees. "You ha'n't got much done yet, I s'pose?"

"Nothing. I came the day before yesterday."

"Land's in rather poor condition in some parts, aint it?"

"I really am not able to say, Sir, ? till I have seen it."

"It ought to be," said the old gentleman, shaking his head, ?

"the fellow that was there last didn't do right by it. He worked the land too hard, and didn't put on it anywhere near what he had ought to; I guess you'll find it pretty poor in some places. He was trying to get all he could out of it, I s'pose. There's a good deal of fencing to be done too, aint there?"

"All that there was, Sir, ? I have done none since I came."

"Seth Plumfield got through ploughing yet?"

"We found him at it."

"Ay, he's a smart man. What are you going to do, Mr. Rossitur, with that piece of marsh land that lies off to the south east of the barn, beyond the meadow, between the hills? I had just sich another, and I ?"

"Before I do anything with the wet land, Mr. ? I am so unhappy as to have forgotten your name ?"

"Springer, Sir," said the old gentleman, ? "Springer ? Joshua Springer. That is my name, Sir."

"Mr. Springer, before I do anything with the wet land, I should like to have something growing on the dry; and as that is the present matter in hand, will you be so good as to let me know whether I can have your a.s.sistance."

"Well, I don't know," said the old gentleman; "there aint anybody to send but my boy Lucas, and I don't know whether he would make up his mind to go or not."

"Well, Sir!" said Mr. Rossitur, rising, "in that case, I will bid you good morning. I am sorry to have given you the trouble."

"Stop," said the old man, "stop a bit. Just sit down. I'll go in and see about it."

Mr. Rossitur sat down, and uncle Joshua left him to go into the kitchen and consult his wife, without whose counsel, of late years especially, he rarely did anything. They never varied in opinion, but aunt Syra's wits supplied the steel edge to his heavy metal.

"I don't know but Lucas would as lieve go as not," the old gentleman remarked on coming back from this sharpening process, ? "and I can make out to spare him, I guess. You calculate to keep him, I s'pose?"

"Until this press is over; and perhaps longer, if I find he can do what I want."

"You'll find him pretty handy at a'most anything, but I mean ?

I s'pose he'll get his victuals with you?"

"I have made no arrangement of the kind," said Mr. Rossitur, controlling with some effort his rebelling muscles. "Donohan is boarded somewhere else, and for the present it will be best for all in my employ to follow the same plan."

"Very good," said uncle Joshua; "it makes no difference ?

only, of course, in that case it is worth more, when a man has to find himself and his team."

"Whatever it is worth, I am quite ready to pay, Sir."

"Very good. You and Lucas can agree about that. He'll be along in the morning."

So they parted; and Fleda understood the impatient quick step with which her uncle got over the ground.

"Is that man a brother of your grandfather?"

"No, Sir ? Oh no! only his brother-in-law. My grandmother was his sister, but they weren't in the least like each other."

"I should think they could not," said Mr. Rossitur.

"Oh, they were not!" Fleda repeated. "I have always heard that."

After paying her respects to aunt Syra in the kitchen, she had come back time enough to hear the end of the discourse in the parlour, and had felt its full teaching. Doubts returned, and her spirits were sobered again. Not another word was spoken till they reached home; when Fleda seized upon Hugh, and went off to the rock after her forsaken pie.

"Have you succeeded?" asked Mrs. Rossitur, while they were gone.

"Yes ? that is, a cousin has kindly consented to come and help me."

"A cousin!" said Mrs. Rossitur.

"Ay ? we're in a nest of cousins."

"In a what, Mr. Rossitur?"

"In a nest of cousins; and I had rather be in a nest of rooks.

I wonder if I shall be expected to ask my ploughmen to dinner!

Every second man is a cousin, and the rest are uncles."

CHAPTER XIX.

"Whilst skies are blue and bright, Whilst flowers are gay, Whilst eyes that change ere night Make glad the day; Whilst yet the calm hours creep, Dream thou ? and from thy sleep Then wake to weep."

Sh.e.l.lEY.

The days of summer flew by, for the most part lightly, over the heads of Hugh and Fleda. The farm was little to them but a place of pretty and picturesque doings, and the scene of nameless delights by wood and stream, in all which, all that summer, Fleda rejoiced; pulling Hugh along with her, even when sometimes he would rather have been poring over his books at home. She laughingly said it was good for him, and one half, at least, of every fine day their feet were abroad. They knew nothing, practically, of the dairy, but that it was an inexhaustible source of the sweetest milk and b.u.t.ter, and, indirectly, of the richest custards and syllabubs. The flock of sheep that now and then came in sight, running over the hill-side, were to them only an image of pastoral beauty, and a soft link with the beauty of the past. The two children took the very cream of country life. The books they had left were read with greater eagerness than ever. When the weather was "too lovely to stay in the house," Shakespeare, or Ma.s.sillon, or Sully, or the "Curiosities of Literature," or "Corinne," or Milner's Church History ? for Fleda's reading was as miscellaneous as ever ? was enjoyed under the flutter of leaves and along with the rippling of the mountain spring; whilst King curled himself up on the skirt of his mistress's gown, and slept for company; hardly more thoughtless and fearless of harm than his two companions. Now and then Fleda opened her eyes to see that her uncle was moody and not like himself, and that her aunt's gentle face was clouded in consequence; and she could not sometimes help the suspicion that he was not making a farmer of himself; but the next summer-wind would blow these thoughts away, or the next look of her flowers would put them out of her head. The whole courtyard in front of the house had been given up to her peculiar use as a flower garden, and there she and Hugh made themselves very busy.