The Harvester Part 32

"This one," he answered. "b.u.t.tonbush, because those b.a.l.l.s resemble round b.u.t.tons. Aren't they peculiar? See how waxy and gracefully cut and set the leaves are. Go on, Betsy, get us home before night. We appear our best early in the morning, when the sun tops Medicine Woods and begins to light us up, and in the evening, just when she drops behind Onabasha back there, and strikes us with a few level rays. Will you take the lines until I open this gate?"

She laid the twig in her lap on the white gloves and took the lines.

As the gate swung wide, Betsy walked through and stopped at the usual place.

"Now my girl," said the Harvester, "cross yourself, lean back, and take your ease. This side that gate you are at home. From here on belongs to us."

"To you, you mean," said the Girl.

"To us, I mean," declared the Harvester. "Don't you know that the 'worldly goods bestowal' clause in a marriage ceremony is a partial reality. It doesn't give you 'all my worldly goods,' but it gives you one third. Which will you take, the hill, lake, marsh, or a part of all of them."

"Oh, is there water?"

"Did I forget to mention that I was formerly sole owner and proprietor of the lake of Lost Loons, also a brook of Singing Water, and many cold springs. The lake covers about one third of our land, and my neighbours would allow me ditch outlet to the river, but they say I'm too lazy to take it."

"Lazy! Do they mean drain your lake into the river?"

"They do," said the Harvester, "and make the bed into a cornfield."

"But you wouldn't?"

She turned to him with confidence.

"I haven't so far, but of course, when you see it, if you would prefer it in a corn----Let's play a game! Turn your head in this direction,"

he indicated with the whip, "close your eyes, and open them when I say ready."

"All right!"

"Now!" said the Harvester.

"Oh," cried the Girl. "Stop! Please stop!"

They were at the foot of a small levee that ran to the bridge crossing Singing Water. On the left lay the valley through which the stream swept from its hurried rush down the hill, a marshy thicket of vines, shrubs, and bushes, the banks impa.s.sable with water growth. Everywhere flamed foxfire and cardinal flower, thousands of wild tiger lilies lifted gorgeous orange-red trumpets, beside pearl-white turtle head and moon daisies, while all the creek bank was a coral line with the first opening bloom of big pink mallows. Rank jewel flower poured gold from dainty cornucopias and lavender beard-tongue offered honey to a million b.u.mbling bees; water smart-weed spread a glowing pink background, and twining amber dodder topped the marsh in lacy mist with its delicate white bloom. Straight before them a white-sanded road climbed to the bridge and up a gentle hill between the young hedge of small trees and bushes, where again flowers and bright colours rioted and led to the cabin yet invisible. On the right, the hill, crowned with gigantic forest trees, sloped to the lake; midway the building stood, and from it, among scattering trees all the way to the water's edge, were immense beds of vivid colour. Like a scarf of gold flung across the face of earth waved the misty saffron, and beside the road running down the hill, in a sunny, open s.p.a.ce arose tree-like specimens of thrifty magenta pokeberry. Down the hill crept the ma.s.ses of colour, changing from dry soil to water growth.

High around the blue-green surface of the lake waved lacy heads of wild rice, lower cat-tails, bulrushes, and marsh gra.s.ses; arrowhead lilies lifted spines of pearly bloom, while yellow water lilies and blue water hyacinths intermingled; here and there grew a pink stretch of water smartweed and the dangling gold of jewel flower. Over the water, bordering the edge, starry faces of white pond lilies floated. Blue flags waved graceful leaves, willows grew in clumps, and vines clambered everywhere.

Among the growth of the lake sh.o.r.e, duck, coot, and grebe voices commingled in the last chattering hastened splash of securing supper before bedtime; crying killdeers crossed the water, and overhead the nighthawks ma.s.sed in circling companies. Betsy climbed the hill and at every step the Girl cried, "Slower! please go slower!" With wide eyes she stared around her.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME IT WOULD BE LIKE THIS?" she demanded in awed tones.

"Have I had opportunity to describe much of anything?" asked the Harvester. "Besides, I was born and reared here, and while it has been a garden of bloom for the past six years only, it always has been a picture; but one forgets to say much about a sight seen every day and that requires the work this does."

"That white mist down there, what is it?" she marvelled.

"Pearls grown by the Almighty," answered the Harvester. "Flowers that I hope you will love. They are like you. Tall and slender, graceful, pearl white and pearl pure----those are the arrowhead Lilies."

"And the wonderful purplish-red there on the bank? Oh, I could kneel and pray before colour like that!'

"Pokeberry!" said the Harvester. "Roots bring five cents a pound. Good blood purifier."

"Man!" cried the Girl. "How can you? I'm not going to ask what another colour is. I'll just worship what I like in silence."

"Will you forgive me if I tell you what a woman whose judgment I respect says about that colour?"

"Perhaps!"

"She says, 'G.o.d proves that He loves it best of all the tints in His workshop by using it first and most sparingly.' Now are you going to punish me by keeping silent?"

"I couldn't if I tried." Just then they came upon the bridge crossing Singing Water, and there was a long view of its border, rippling bed, and marshy banks; while on the other hand the lake resembled a richly incrusted sapphire.

"Is the house close?"

"Just a few rods, at the turn of the drive."

"Please help me down. I want to remain here a while. I don't care what else there is to see. Nothing can equal this. I wish I could bring down a bed and sleep here. I'd like to have a table, and draw and paint. I understand now what you mean about the designs you mentioned. Why, there must be thousands! I can't go on. I never saw anything so appealing in all my life."

Now the Harvester's mother had designed that bridge and he had built it with much care. From bark-covered railings to solid oak floor and comfortable benches running along the sides it was intended to be a part of the landscape.

"I'll send Belshazzar to the cabin with the wagon," he said, "so you can see better."

"But you must not!" she cried. "I can't walk. I wouldn't soil these beautiful shoes for anything."

"Why don't you change them?" inquired the Harvester.

"I am afraid I forgot everything I had," said the Girl.

"There are shoes somewhere in this load. I thought of them in getting other things for you, but I had no idea as to size, and so I told that clerk to-day when she got your measure to put in every kind you'd need."

"You are horribly extravagant," she said. "But if you have them here, perhaps I could use one pair."

The Harvester mounted the wagon and hunted until he found a large box, and opening it on the bench he disclosed almost every variety of shoe, walking shoe and slipper, a girl ever owned, as well as sandals and high overshoes.

"For pity sake!" cried the Girl. "Cover that box! You frighten me.

You'll never get them paid for. You must take them straight back."

"Never take anything back," said the Harvester. "'Be sure you are right, then go ahead,' is my motto. Now I know these are your correct size and that for differing occasions you will want just such shoes as other girls have, and here they are. Simple as life! I think these will serve because they are for street wear, yet they are white inside."

He produced a pair of canvas walking shoes and kneeling before her held out his hand.

When he had finished, he loaded the box on the wagon, gave the hitching strap to Belshazzar, and told him to lead Betsy to the cabin and hold her until he came. Then he turned to the Girl.

"Now," he said, "look as long as you choose. But remember that the law gives you part of this and your lover, which same am I, gives you the remainder, so you are privileged to come here at any hour as often as you please. If you miss anything this evening, you have all time to come in which to re-examine it."

"I'd like to live right here on this bridge," she said. "I wish it had a roof."

"Roof it to-morrow," offered the Harvester. "Simple matter of a few pillars already cut, joists joined, and some slab shingles left from the cabin. Anything else your ladyship can suggest?"

"That you be sensible."