The Twins of Suffering Creek Part 14

But his proposition hadn't the effect he hoped. Instead of moving, Jamie suddenly beat his head with his little clenched fists.

"Me wants yaller pup," he cried, and forthwith howled afresh.

Again Sunny realized his helplessness, and, glancing about for further inspiration, caught sight of an inquiring yellow head peering furtively in through the doorway.

"Why, ther' he is," he cried, vainly hoping to pacify the child. Then he began at once a clumsy encouragement of the dog. "Here, you yeller feller," he cried, flicking his fingers coaxingly. "Come along! Gee, you're a pretty feller. Hi! come along here."

But the dog made no attempt to move, and Sunny began to lose patience.

"Come along, pups," he cried, with increasing force. "Come on, you miser'ble rat. Don't stan' ther' waggin' your fool tail like a whisk-broom. Say, you yaller cur, I'll--" He started to fetch the creature, but in a twinkling it had fled, to the accompaniment of a fresh outburst from Jamie.

"I tho't you was a fairy," protested Vada. "Fairies ken do most anything. You're jest an ugly ole man."

Sunny stood up and drew the back of his hand across his perspiring forehead. He was worried. The fairy business was played out, and he felt that he must begin again. Children were by no means as easy to handle as he had thought. He racked his brains, and suddenly bethought him of another move.

In spite of Jamie's whimpering, he went to the cupboard and produced a tin of mola.s.ses. This he carefully opened in full view of Vada's questioning eyes. Jamie had also become silent, watching him intently.

He dug his finger into the sticky contents and drew it out. Then he licked his finger with tremendous enjoyment.

"Bully," he muttered, apparently ignoring the children.

Instantly Vada was on her knees, crawling from under the table, followed closely by her faithful shadow. She came cautiously up to Sunny's side and stood up.

"M'la.s.ses?" she inquired, and her eyes spoke volumes.

"O-oh!" muttered Jamie, scrambling to his feet beside her holding up one fat hand.

Sunny, without replying, allowed them to dip their fingers into the pot and taste the mola.s.ses. He felt that the moment was critical, and he would not risk words which might easily set them scuttling back to their stronghold.

His strategy was successful. Up came the hands again, and he knew he had won their confidence. He allowed them another dip into the pot, and then began the business in hand.

"We'll save the rest fer bimeby," he said decidedly. "Meanwhiles we'll fix things right."

"Wot things?" inquired Vada.

"M'la.s.ses," said Jamie, with tearful eyes.

Again Sunny felt the crisis, but he carried the situation with a firm hand.

"Bimeby, laddie," he said cheerfully. "Meanwhiles we'll jest have a wash all round."

And forthwith he set the wash-bowl ready and filled it with warm water. Then, after some consideration and trouble, having discovered a rag which had been used in the household "wash-up," and a piece of soap, he prepared to start on little Vada. But she instantly protested.

"You first, Mister Fairy," she said cheerfully. "My poppa allus washes first. Then we has his water."

"'Ess," agreed Jamie.

And, to his disgust, Sunny was forced to an unwilling ablution, which, by strategy, he had hoped to escape. However, the ordeal was manfully borne, and his reward was quite worth his trouble. Vada promptly exclaimed when she saw his face emerge from the dirty towel, shining with grease off the house-flannel.

"You'se a fairy, sure," she cried, clapping her hands and dancing about gleefully. "On'y fairies can change theirselves. You'se a pretty, pretty man--now. Now, Jamie dear. You next," she added, with feminine a.s.surance. And with clumsy but willing enough hands Sunny Oak contrived to cleanse his charges.

By the time his task was accomplished perfect good-will reigned all round, and the climax was reached when the yellow pup returned of its own accord, and was promptly hugged to Jamie's affectionate little bosom.

The next thing was to prepare the children's supper. This was a far more serious matter for the loafer. But he finally achieved it, having learnt, by the process of cross-questioning the girl, what was usual and therefore expected. However, it was not without some difficulty that he succeeded in providing an adequate meal, which consisted of bread and milk, with bread and mola.s.ses as a sort of dessert. For himself, he was forced to fare off a tin of lobster and tea. Still, his difficulties were not of much consequence so long as the children were satisfied. And any bother to himself was his own fault, in having relied for a moment on Sandy Joyce's ideas of a menu.

Supper over and the table cleared, he decided on further catechizing little Vada on points that still were a mystery to him. So, with Jamie busy on the floor endeavoring to solve the mystery of the pup's wagging tail, he lit his pipe and took Vada on his knee. He endeavored to recall incidents of his own childhood; to remember something of his own early routine. But somehow nothing was very clear.

He had washed the children and given them food. Those things seemed to him to be perfectly sound. Well, what next? It was a little difficult.

He glanced at the sun. Surely bed would be quite in order. Bed--ah, yes, that was a happy thought. He remembered now, when he was young he always used to get himself into trouble purposely so they would send him to bed. But with this thought came the regretful recollection that his predilection for bed was quickly discovered, and his further penalties took the form of the buckle end of his father's waist-belt.

However, he put the proposition with much tact.

"Say, kiddies," he began, "how soon does your momma put you to bed?"

Vada shook her wise little head.

"Momma don't. Poppa does."

"And when's that?" he inquired, driving at his point deliberately.

"When momma says."

Vada was fastening and unfastening the man's dirty waistcoat with great interest.

"An' when does your momma say it?" Sunny persisted.

"When poppa's done the ch.o.r.es."

"Ah!"

He felt himself on the wrong tack, and cast about for a fresh line of argument.

"Guess you kiddies like bed some," he hazarded doubtfully.

"Me like m'la.s.ses," piped Jamie, who had managed to get the pup's tail over his shoulder, and was hanging on to it with both hands. Vada shrieked as the pup began to yelp.

"Oh, look at Jamie," she cried. "He's pulling Dougal's tail right out.

You're a naughty, naughty boy."

"Not naughty," protested Jamie, pulling harder.

Sunny reached down and released the mongrel, who promptly turned round and licked the boy's face. Jamie fought him with his little clenched fists, and finally began to cry.

Again Sunny went to the rescue, and with some difficulty peace was restored. Then he went back to his subject.

"Guess we'll hev to go to bed right now," he suggested, with an air of authority.

"Momma ain't back," said Vada, her eyes round and wondering.

"She'll be right along presently," lied Sunny.

"'Ess," declared Jamie, "an'--an'--we go find 'piders an'--an' bugs."