Jack the Hunchback: A Story of Adventure on the Coast of Maine, Page 3

  CHAPTER III.

  LEARNING TO MILK.

  A low bench painted green and fastened against the trunk of the old oak,that there might be no possibility of its being overturned, was theplace where Aunt Nancy told Jack she spent the pleasant summer evenings.

  "Except where there are caterpillars around," she added, "and then Icarry the rocking-chair to the stone doorstep. If you could killcaterpillars, Jack, you would be doing the greatest possible favor, forthey certainly make my life wretched at times, although I don't know whya person should be afraid of anything God has made."

  "Oh, I can kill 'em," Jack replied confidently. "Bring on yourcaterpillars when you want 'em killed, an' I'll fix the job. There ain'tany trouble about that."

  "But I don't want to bring them on," Aunt Nancy said, hesitatingly. "Inever like to touch the little crawling things, and you will have to dothat part of the work."

  "I'll see to it," Jack replied, and believing she would be free in thefuture from the pests which interfered with her twilight pleasures, AuntNancy's face took on an expression of complete satisfaction.

  "Now let's talk about yourself and the baby," she said. "You must notattempt to walk to New York while this hot weather lasts, and it wouldcost a power of money to go there on the cars."

  "I know it," Jack replied with a sigh, "but so long as there isn't acent between us, I guess we'll have to foot it."

  "I've been thinking why you shouldn't stay here a spell. You makeyourself so handy about the house that I sha'n't mind the extra troublewith the baby, and there are times while the summer boarders are herewhen I do need a boy very badly."

  "That's just what I'd like," and Jack spoke emphatically. "If you'll letus stay two or three weeks I'll pay my way in work, an' see that Louisdon't bother you."

  "I believe that will be the best way out of it. The summer boarders areto come in two or three weeks. Before then I'll write to my brotherAbner, in Binghamton, who'll be sure to know about Capt. Littlefield,and perhaps he can make some arrangement for your passage."

  "Where's Binghamton?" Jack asked in perplexity.

  "Why, it's in York State. I ain't certain how near to the big city, butof course it can't be very far away. Abner's a master hand at readin',so if he don't happen to know Capt. Littlefield as a friend, he'd besure to have heard of him. When he was home here he was acquainted witheverybody for fifty miles around. He could tell you who each manmarried, how many children they had, and kept the run of everything thathappened in the neighborhood. I used to say Abner minded other people'sbusiness better than his own, and that _was_ his fault," she added witha sigh. "But we all of us have our faults, and it's never right to speakabout those of another before we have fairly weighed our own. He's theone, though, to find the baby's father, so you needn't have any furthertrouble regarding it; but wait till we get a letter from him."

  Jack was not as confident as Aunt Nancy appeared to be that this"brother Abner" would know all the people in New York; but he was morethan content to remain where he was for a certain length of time in thehope of being able to reach the city in some less laborious way than bywalking.

  Then Aunt Nancy told him about herself, and of the farm which hadbelonged to her father, but descended to her at his death, because Abnerwas unwilling to spend his time on land so unproductive that theseverest labor failed to bring forth a remunerative crop.

  "It isn't very good, I'll admit," she said reflectively; "but by takinga few summer boarders I've been able to make both ends meet, and that'sall an old maid like me ought to expect."

  "Have you always lived alone?"

  "It's nigh on to twelve years since father died, and, excepting in thesummer, I've had neither child nor chick here. An old woman ain'tpleasant company at the best, and if Abner's daughters don't like tovisit their aunt, I can't say I blame them."

  "Well I do!" Jack said decidedly. "I think you're the nicest old lady Iever saw, and I'd be willin' to stay here all the time if I could."

  Aunt Nancy was not accustomed to flattery; but it must be admitted, fromthe expression on her wrinkled face, that it was far from unpleasant,and by way of reward she patted Jack on the head almost affectionately.

  "Perhaps you won't think so after a while," she said with a smile; andthen as Jack was about to make protestations, she added, "it's time togo after the cow, and then I'll give you the first lesson in milking."

  The farm was not so large that it required many moments to reach thepasture, for the old lady had only to walk to the rear of the barn wherethe crumple-horned cow was standing at the end of a narrow lane awaitingher coming.

  As the animal stepped carefully over the bars after they had been letdown, Jack could not help thinking she was just such a cow as one wouldfancy should belong to Aunt Nancy.

  She walked in a dainty manner, acting almost as if trying not to bringany unnecessary amount of dirt into the barnyard, and behaving in everyway as one would say her mistress might under similar circumstances.

  "While I go for the milking pail you pull some clover from under thetrees, for she always expects a lunch while being milked," Aunt Nancysaid; and in a few moments Jack had gathered such a feast as caused thesedate animal to toss her head in disapprobation at the unusually largeamount she was expected to devour after having been cropping pasturegrass all day.

  With a pail which had been scoured until it shone like silver, and atiny three-legged stool, white as the floor of her kitchen, the littlewoman returned.

  Then with many a "Co, Bossy! So, Bossy!" as if the quiet-looking animalwas expected to give way to the most violent demonstrations of wrath,Aunt Nancy placed the stool in the most advantageous position, and said,as she seated herself,--

  "Now watch me a few minutes, and you'll see how easy it is after gettingthe knack."

  Jack gazed intently at every movement, his eyes opened wide withastonishment as the streams of milk poured into the pail with a peculiar"swish," and before the creamy foam had fully covered the bottom he wasquite positive it would be no difficult matter for him to perform thesame operation.

  "I can do it now, if you'll get up."

  Aunt Nancy vacated the stool without hesitation, for milking seemed sucha simple matter that there was no question in her mind but that it couldbe learned in one very short lesson, and Jack sat down.

  The cow looked around at this change of attendants, but was toowell-bred to express any great amount of surprise, and the hunchbacktook hold of what appeared like so many fat fingers.

  Fancying that strength alone was necessary, he pulled most vigorously.

  Not a drop of milk came; but he accomplished something, for the animaltossed her head impatiently.

  Jack pulled harder the second time, and then, as Aunt Nancy screamedloudly, the cow started at full speed for the other side of the yard,facing about there at the boy whom she believed was tormenting herwilfully, while she shook her head in a menacing manner.

  Fortunately the milk-pail was not overturned; but in preventing such acatastrophe, Jack rolled from the stool to the ground with no gentleforce, terrified quite as much by Aunt Nancy's screams as by the suddenmovement of old crumple-horn.

  "Why, what's the matter?" he asked, as he scrambled to his feet, lookingfirst at his hostess, and then at the frightened animal.

  "I ought to have known a boy couldn't milk," Aunt Nancy said impatientlyand almost angrily. "It seems as if they have a faculty of hurting dumbbeasts."

  "But I didn't mean to," Jack said apologetically. "I worked just as youdid, and pulled a good deal harder, but yet the milk wouldn't come."

  Aunt Nancy made no reply.

  Taking up the pail and stool she walked across the yard, trying tosoothe the cow in the peculiar language she had used when beginning thetask; and Jack, understanding that he had hurt the feelings of both hishostess and her pet, followed contritely, as he said coaxingly,--

  "Please let me try it once more. I am certain I can do it if you'll giveme another chance."

  I
t was not until Aunt Nancy had led the cow back to the pile of clover,and there stroked her head and ears until she was ready to resume therudely interrupted feast, that any attention was paid to Jack'sentreaties.

  "I'll show you once more," she finally said, "and you must watch to seeexactly how I move my fingers. It isn't the pulling that brings themilk, but the pressure of the hand."

  This time Jack paid strict attention, and in a few moments began tofancy he had discovered what Aunt Nancy called the "knack."

  But she would not relinquish her seat.

  "Take hold with one hand while I stay here, and be careful not to hurtthe poor creature."

  Very tenderly Jack made the second attempt, and was so successful as toextract at least a dozen drops from the well-filled udder.

  This was sufficient, however, to show him what should be done, eventhough he was at first unable to perform the task, and, thanks to AuntNancy's patience, and the gentleness of the animal, before the milkingwas brought to a close, he had so far mastered the lesson as to win fromhis teacher a limited amount of praise.

  "I don't know as I should expect you to learn at once," she said; "butyou are getting along so well that by to-morrow night I wouldn't besurprised if you could do it alone. Now I'll go and strain the milk, andyou may split me a little kindling wood if you will. Somehow I havenever been able to use an axe without danger of cutting my feet, andit's almost like tempting Providence to take one in my hands."

  Jack did as he was bidden, and although the axe was decidedly rusty andvery blunt, to say nothing of its being shaky in the helve, before shefinished taking care of the milk he had such a pile of kindlings aswould have cost her a week's labor to prepare.

  "Well!" the little woman said as she came from the cool cellar andsurveyed the fruits of his industry, "if you can't do anything else ona farm but that, it'll be a wonderful relief to me. An axe is such adangerous instrument that I always tremble when I touch one."

  Jack looked at the ancient tool (which could hardly have inflicted anyinjury unless one chanced to drop it on his toes) with a smile, but saidnothing, and after Aunt Nancy had shown him how to fasten the woodsheddoor with a huge latch that any burglar over four feet tall could haveraised, she led the way into the house.

  The milking pail was to be washed, a solitary moth which had found itsway into the kitchen was to be killed lest he should do some damage tothe rag carpet, and Aunt Nancy lighted a candle with a solemn air.

  "This is the last work of the day," she said, "and perhaps I attach toomuch importance to it, but I never allow myself to go to bed withoutmaking sure there's no one hidden in the house. We'll examine the upperpart first, and after that has been done I will show you a chamber whichyou can have until the summer boarders come. Then we must make differentarrangements, for the house is so small that I'm terribly put to it forroom."

  Jack followed the little woman up the back stairs, and each of the fourapartments was subjected to the most rigid scrutiny, the boy holding thecandle while Aunt Nancy not only peered under the beds and behind thebureaus, but even opened the tiniest closets in search of a supposedintruder.

  "We are safe for another day," she said with a long-drawn sigh ofrelief, "and after looking through the fore-room once more I'll lock thedoors."

  There was such an air of responsibility about the little woman thatJack, not fully understanding what she expected to find, immediatelyconceived the idea that peaceful though this portion of the countryappeared, it must be a very dangerous neighborhood, for his hostesscould not have taken more precautions had it been known positively thata band of Indians were lurking in the vicinity.

  Nothing more alarming than the moth was found, however, and after thewindow fastenings had been carefully examined, Aunt Nancy led the wayback to the kitchen, where she once more surprised her guest by takingdown the well-worn Bible.

  In a thin, quavering voice she read therefrom a certain number ofverses in which she seemed to find the greatest satisfaction, and thenreplaced the book reverentially on the stand appropriated to itskeeping.

  Then, to Jack's further surprise, she knelt by the side of the chair andbegan a simple but heartfelt prayer, while the boy nestled arounduneasily, not certain whether it was proper for him to stand up, orfollow her example, therefore he remained where he was.

  When the evening devotions had been brought to a close, he feltdecidedly uncomfortable in mind, but did not think it advisable toexpose his ignorance by asking the little woman what he should havedone.

  "Now we'll go to bed," Aunt Nancy said as she arose to her feet withsuch a look of faith on her wrinkled face as reminded the boy ofpictures he had seen.

  Without a word he followed her upstairs to a small room directly overthe kitchen, which, however contracted it might seem to others, wastwice as large as he needed when compared with his quarters on board the"Atlanta."

  Then, as if her aim was to astonish and bewilder him on this firstevening, Aunt Nancy kissed him on both cheeks as she said "Good night,"and left him to his own reflections.