Sweetapple Cove Part 18

Jelliffe. That's why I thinks he's more like a Lard nor a Juke."

This conclusion seemed to meet with general approval, and the men went on.

Dr. Grant came over to us fairly early this morning, and joined us on the little porch.

"Good morning," he said. "You must be glad that the term of your imprisonment is drawing to a close, Mr. Jelliffe. You will soon be on your way home. As a matter of fact there is nothing to prevent your leaving in a few days. We could easily put you in your berth on board, well braced up, and in four or five days the _s...o...b..rd_ would be at anchor off the New York Yacht Club float."

"I am suffering from the deteriorating influence of prolonged idleness, Doctor," said Daddy. "I have become thoroughly lazy now, and don't care to start until I can hop on board without a.s.sistance, and walk the deck as much as I want. This daughter of mine has developed an uncanny attachment to the place; she sometimes tries to look sorry for me, but she is having the one grand time of her childhood."

I protested, naturally, but he paid no attention and went on.

"Now that I can sit on this porch I get any amount of company. I know every one in the place and feel that I am acquiring the local accent through my prolonged conversations with the natives. I am utterly incapable of thinking of desirable parcels of real estate, and bonds leave me indifferent. I reckon in codfish now, like the rest of the population. I caught myself wondering, yesterday, how many quintals the Flatiron Building was worth."

"I am sure you must miss your daily paper," said the doctor.

"A short time ago that was one of the flies in my ointment; but now I am at peace. Why remind me of it?"

Daddy delights in chess with the parson and long talks with the doctor. I can see that he has become really very fond of him. Mr. Barnett is much more frequently with him, and they have tremendous battles during which it looks as if the fate of empires depended on the next move, but when the doctor comes Daddy looks ever so pleased and his voice rings out with welcome.

I announced that I was going over to old Granny Lasher, who would get me out of trouble with that heel I was puzzling over.

"Just look at her, Doctor," said Daddy. "Did you ever see such rosy cheeks? This has done her a lot of good; of course she has always been a strong girl, but there is something here that has golf and motoring beaten to a standstill. She is becoming horribly proud of getting those salmon. I will have to take down her pride, some day, and show her what an old fellow like me can do. I am ever so much obliged to you for taking such good care of her."

Now you and I, Aunt Jennie, know that men are silly things at best. Of course I am grateful to Dr. Grant for looking after me so nicely, but why should he deserve such a lot of credit for it? Don't all the nice young men like to look after girls? They enjoy it ever so much. But somehow this Dr. Grant enjoys it without undue enthusiasm. I am really ever so glad that he never looks, as so many of the others do, as if he were pining for the moment when he can lay his heart and fishy fees, which he never gets, at my feet. He is just a splendid fellow, Aunt Jennie, who looks as strong and honest as the day is long. We are all very fond of him.

"The only thing that hurts is that I have had none of the fishing," said Daddy. "I have made up my mind to return another year and let the Tobique take care of itself. By the time I am well enough to fish there will not be another salmon that will rise, this year."

"No, Mr. Jelliffe," answered the doctor. "The salmon are beginning to cease their interest in flies, but the trout are biting well."

"I have nothing to say against trout," said Daddy, "but I feel like crying for a salmon as a baby cries for the moon. There is not much in life outside of salmon and Wall Street. Even when I have to go to California I troll a little on Puget Sound, but it doesn't come up to fly-fishing."

I left them, deeply engaged in this absorbing subject. I think I have discovered something rather noteworthy in this salmon fishing. It is the effect that our interest in the matter has on the population. To them a fish means a cod; it is the only fish they know. All others are undeserving of the name, and are compelled to appear under the guise of their proper appellations. The taking of fish is a serious business, and one that does not pay very handsomely, as far as these people are concerned. Therefore they cannot understand that one may catch fish for amus.e.m.e.nt, and so we are enwrapped in a halo of mystery. Dr. Grant has told me that some of them have darkly wondered whether Daddy was not investigating this island with a view to buying it for weird purposes of his own, such as obtaining a corner on codfish and raising the price of this commodity all over the world. Isn't it funny that even here some notion of trusts and corners should have penetrated? Of course they would be delighted to have the price of cod raised; it is the dream of their lives.

But most of them have accepted us as natural, if freaky, phenomena with which they were previously unacquainted, and which have thus far shown no objectionable features. They have become ever so friendly, yet never intrusive, and I like them ever so much.

That poor fellow d.i.c.k was shipped back to his miserable little island, two weeks ago, happy in the possession of a useful right arm. It was quite touching to hear him speak of the doctor. And speaking about d.i.c.k reminds me of the man's wife, with those peculiar ideas of hers. You remember about them, don't you? Would you believe, Auntie dear, that all the other women about here are just as bad? They seem to be matchmakers of the most virulent sort. They boldly ask me if I am going to marry the doctor, and when, the poor silly things, and if I deny the impeachment they bring forth little smiles of unbelief.

When I showed my last stocking to Granny Lasher she announced that it was much too small.

"Didn't yer ever look at the big feet o' he?" she asked.

"The big feet of who?" I asked, in an elegant form of speech.

"Th' doctor," she answered.

"But these are for my father," I objected.

"Sure, I ought ter have knowed that," she replied. "Ye'll be practicin'

on he first, and when yer does real good work ye'll be knittin' 'em fer th' doctor."

"Mrs. Sammy knits stockings for him," I said, severely.

"Well, when he's yer man ye'll not be lettin' other wimmin folks do his knittin' fer he," persisted the ancient dame.

I simply refuse to argue any more with them. They have that idea in their hard old heads and it cannot be dislodged. If you and I had been Newfoundlanders, Auntie dear, we would have married early and been expected to knit stockings, in the intervals of work on the flakes, for the rest of our natural lives. The maidens of this island entertain visions of coming years devoted to the rearing of perfect herds of children, to a.s.sorted household work, to drying fish and knitting stockings for their lords and masters, until the end.

I even have a suspicion of Mrs. Barnett, sweet good soul though she be. I walked up to her house yesterday, having met Dr. Grant on the way. He left me at her door, and when I came in she looked at me, wistfully, and I intercepted the tiniest little sigh from her.

"What is the trouble?" I asked her.

"Oh! Nothing in the world, my dear," she answered, in that sweetly toned voice of hers. "Do you know, when you were coming up the path I though that you and the doctor made the handsomest couple I have ever seen."

I laughed right out, perhaps because I sought to conceal the fact that I was just the tiniest bit provoked. She had said this with a little hesitancy, as if she had been just timidly venturing on deep waters. She looked at me, and I think she sighed again, and immediately asked for my very expert advice about cutting into a piece of very cheap goods that has come from St. John's, and with which she expects to make a dress for herself. I felt like crying, and laid bare my profound ignorance, and then we had a good laugh together, for she was at once as bright again as she always is. Then I played with the kiddies, who are cherubs, and we had tea, and when I left she looked at me again, with those beautiful wistful eyes. I am afraid. Aunt Jennie, that she is in league with the rest of the feminine population. I think I am beginning to be glad that we are going away soon.

When I returned to our house I found Dr. Grant still there. He has not been very busy lately, but he was showing symptoms of an early departure, returning certain flies he had been discussing to a very large fly-book.

Of course, Aunt Jennie, he is not at all responsible for this foolish talk, and I had no reason to be unpleasant to him.

"I am sorry you are going," I said. "I hear that for the time being the crop of patients is diminishing."

"It rather looks that way," he answered, "and I must say I am glad of it.

It is only a lull, I suppose, and I'm going to take advantage of it.

Sammy reminded me to-day that September has come and that the stags are beginning to shed their velvet. I think that your father and you would like some venison. I shall enjoy it too, I can a.s.sure you."

"Oh! How I wish I could go," I exclaimed, foolishly enough.

"But there could be nothing easier," he explained, quietly. "I have a very nice little tent which I brought with me when I came here, and you could take Susie Sweetapple with you. The two men and I can build a little lean-to anywhere. It is really worth trying. I have explored a bit of that country, and I am sure you would enjoy a look at it."

"It sounds very attractive, Daddy," I said.

"If there is one thing I am longing for," said the dear old man, "it is a decent bit of meat. The cook on the yacht and the steward may possibly be able to fill Susie's place for a day or two. You go right along, daughter."

And now, Aunt Jennie, I am recklessly going away to furnish more gossip for the ladies of the place, bless their poor old hearts. I have been interviewing Susie, whose voluble conversation is often amusing, and find that she also entertains some queer ideas. Of course I undeceived her at once. Daddy doesn't think there is the slightest impropriety in the trip, deeming Susie a sufficient chaperon. The ladies here of course never indulge in such masculine pursuits as hunting, but none of them will consider my doing it as any more wonderful than my going fishing. It will be but one more of the peculiar doings of them "Merikins."

By the way, Harry Lawrence has written. You know, Auntie dear, that he is one of the few very nice fellows to whom I have had to hint, as gently as possible, that I am awfully happy with old Dad. He was the only one of them to put out his hand, like the good, strong, red-headed, football wonder that he is. I can hear him now:

"Shake, little girl," he said, smilingly. "You are not ready yet, are you? I am not going to believe that this is your last word, and we'll just pretend I didn't speak, and go on being good old pals as before. My chance may come yet."

I remember that I felt quite gulpy and shaky when he said that, and that I wished at the time that I had been able to think of him otherwise than as a good old friend, just to see him grin happily again, as he so often does. He tells me he has only just returned from abroad, having remained longer than he expected to. He says that motoring in Norway is very interesting. He also says he has half a mind to run up here and see what sort of a digging we are living in. You know that Daddy thinks a lot of him, and that Harry dotes on Dad. The boy thinks there is no one like him, which shows what a sensible fellow Harry is.

Well, I am going to bed early, to prepare for a very long tramp to-morrow. I will tell you all about it next time I write,

Your loving HELEN.

CHAPTER XII