Chapter I: A Sweet Lady (14)

After a while, beginning to tire, as we will of every form of excess, I was meditating a return to the War Eagle, when flames, higher and fiercer than before, burst from her stacks, lighting up the heavens with a deeper and wider glow. Thinking some new device was being tried, I sat still, and doing so, felt the increased power of the boat, and this as if she had before been held by some restraining hand. Seeing how it was, our crew raised a cheer, but alas! For as our stern tipped the prow of the Northern Light and victory seemed clearly ours, there came a sickening roar, all too plain, from the hull of the War Eagle. With the sound, and sooner than I can tell, the sky was aflame with fire and steam, and about me, and on my body and upturned face, particles of wood and iron fell in showers, as if dropped from heaven. Following the sound, and without any interlude whatever, the flying vessel, her body burst asunder, began to settle in the boiling water. Seeing this, and aroused by the sight, I sprang to my feet, and letting go the rope, the fierce current quickly drew it through the ring, and I was freed from the sinking boat.

Now I bethought me to aid the others, but alas! on looking about, there was not so much as a stick by which to hold or guide the craft in which I stood. In this way, and in agony of grief, and crying out at the top of my voice, I floated away into the gathering darkness as the War Eagle sank beneath the troubled waters. This, as I say, without being able to so much as lift a hand to help my friends. Not so those on board the Northern Light, for immediately the explosion occurred she reversed her engines, and in a moment her boats were dancing on the water and hastening, amid the cries of her crew, to the aid of our stricken people. This much I saw, but only partly and from afar off, so quickly did the current carry me away and out of sight. Standing up and straining my eyes to the utmost, the lights one by one faded out, until I was alone and helpless on the silent river; but of this I neither thought nor cared, for my heart was filled to bursting at the unhappy fate of my late companions. Gladly in my grief would I have stayed to share their death, but instead I was each moment being carried farther away, helpless as driftwood to aid either them or myself. Thus I stood for hours, looking back and mourning till the night was far spent and the moon arose over the distant hills of Illinois. At this, and in a measure soothed by the sight, I know not why, I threw myself down in the bottom of the boat, and so, after a while, fell into a troubled sleep.

Awakening at dawn, I stood up and scanned the shore on either side to see if I could make out some familiar object. In vain, however; and thus an hour or more passed without my seeing any one or being able to tell my whereabouts. Despondent and chilled by the sharp air, I began to search the boat anew, to see if I could not devise some way to reach the shore. While thus busied a voice hailed me, and looking up I was gladdened by finding myself abreast of Mr. Hayward's ferry, where Constance and I had passed so many happy days. Calling to Mr. Hayward--for it was he--to come to my aid, he loosened the skiff that lay fastened at hand, and pushing into the stream, soon neared the spot where I lay drifting with the current.

"Hello, Gilbert; is that you?" he cried, in surprise, on discovering who it was.

"Yes, sir."

"What's the matter? Where do you come from?" he asked, resting on his oars as if too much astonished to proceed.

"From the War Eagle, sir."

"Why in this shape?" he exclaimed.

"It's all that's left of her, I fear."

"All that's left of her! Why, what do you mean?"

"She blew up last night."

"God bless us! blew up! and the passengers and crew?"

"There were no passengers, but about the crew, oh, Lord! I don't know," I answered, sorrow-stricken.

"How did you get off?" he asked, after a while.

"I was dragging at the stern."

"Well, that was lucky, anyway."

"Yes, I suppose so," I answered, not elated as I should have been over my escape, so great was my sorrow for those who were lost.

"What was the matter? Were you racing?"

"Well, there was a boat alongside of us."

"That's it," he answered, his temper rising, as men's will sometimes after a great shock; "our river men will never learn anything, and now this new accident!"

"Yes, sir; but it couldn't be helped. No one was to blame."

"No, of course not. It was Providence," he answered. "That is where we lay the blame for all the foolish things we do. What a spinal column Providence must have," he went on, "to carry so great a burden! But while we are talking, the current is taking us to the gulf"; and starting up, he soon reached my boat, and fastening it to the one he was in, put forth all his strength, and so brought us quickly to the landing a few steps from his home.

*CHAPTER XLV*

*TELLING THE NEWS*

Mrs. Hayward was greatly surprised at my coming, and more so at the terrible accident that had befallen the War Eagle. Hastening, I begged a horse of Mr. Hayward, that I might reach Appletop before news could come to Constance. While standing at the door of the cabin waiting, I told them of the mishap and my escape, at all of which they wondered. When I was ready to mount, Mr. Hayward asked me what I intended to do after seeing my friends.

"Bring your horse back and thank you for your kindness," I answered, not attaching any other meaning to what he said.

"Where will you make your home, I mean? What will you do, if I may ask?" he replied.

"I don't know, but I suppose Uncle Job will want to send me off to school, as he talked before," I answered, thinking of it now for the first time.

"That would be greatly to your advantage," Mrs. Hayward exclaimed, pleased at the idea.

"Yes, I suppose so; but I don't fancy it now any more than I did at first."

"Why not?" Mr. Hayward asked, surprised.

"Because I don't want to leave Appletop," I answered, looking toward Mrs. Hayward, who knew of my love for Constance.

"Yet you have been away all summer," he replied.

"I know, but I could come back when I wanted to, and so it was not like being away."

"That made a difference, to be sure; but you will go if he wants you to?"

"No; it's too much to ask," I answered, making up my mind.

"I think you will do wrong to refuse," he replied, after a while; "but if you don't go, how would you like to come and live with us? I need some one to help me, and I think we would get along finely together. Helen, I am sure, would be glad to have you," he added, turning to his young wife.

"Indeed I should," she responded, and as if meaning what she said.

"Thank you," I replied; "it would be just what I'd like, if it could be brought about."

"I could help you with your books, too, if you would let me," she went on, pleasantly; "I taught school, you know, before I married Mr. Hayward, and liked it very much. So that if you wish to come and live with us, I should be glad to direct your studies, and could find the time, I am sure."

"Nothing in the world would be so good as that, Gilbert, for you will never find another such teacher," Mr. Hayward exclaimed, glancing at his wife with admiration and love.

"I know it, and it would exactly suit me to live here, too," I answered, looking toward the great river and the forest that bordered its shores.

"Well, suppose you speak to Mr. Throckmorton about it, if you are of the same mind after thinking it over," Mr. Hayward replied.

"That I will," I answered, mounting my horse.

Bidding them good by, I soon reached the Dragon, where I found Constance in the little garden beside the Dragon, busy over her plants. Hearing me approach, she looked up, and seeing who it was, gave a cry of joy.

"Gilbert!"

"Yes," I cried, slipping to the ground and running to her; "I'm back again, and well, you see, and as the captain promised."

"Oh, Gilbert, you are always surprising us in this way," she answered, holding my hands and scanning my face to make sure I was not deceiving her.

"Yes; and I hope you are glad to see me?"

"You know I am, though I was not expecting you so soon."

"You see I couldn't stay away from you any longer, Constance. I've been away too long already," I answered, kissing her hand.

"Have you left the boat? And what are you doing with Mr. Hayward's horse?" she asked, in surprise, noticing the animal now for the first time.

"I've just come from the Haywards."

"How can that be, when you went up the river last night?"

"Our boat met with an accident, and so I dropped down to the Haywards before landing."

"An accident! What was it?"

"A serious thing," I answered; "and that's why I wanted to be the first to tell you."

Well it was, too, that I made such haste, for, while I was yet telling her what had happened, a messenger came up from the river, with a crowd of people following, calling out that the War Eagle was blown up and all on board drowned. Stopping him, I asked if it were true that all were lost, and replying he said not one was saved. This was so much worse than I had thought that I cried out in anguish at hearing it; but so it was. Not one saved--Captain McGonnigle! and Devlin! and the pilots! The poor roustabouts, too, so patient and striving! All gone! every one cut off, and without time to breathe a prayer! It was too terrible to think of, and sinking down on the ground I covered my face with my hands. Alas! poor captain, I mourned, you have sent me home as you promised, but you yourself will never go back to the wife you have cherished so long and tenderly. Devlin! and is this the end of all your ambition and cleverness! It is too much! And the dear pilots! the wise men up aloft! Surely, never before have you traversed a course so dreary or steered a sea so black! Thus sorrowing, Constance put her arm about me and led me into the Dragon; but there was no longer any sunlight or pleasure in life for me, for my heart was full to bursting over the terrible fate that had befallen my friends.

*CHAPTER XLVI*

*THE AMERICANS*

Uncle Job, who had been married to Miss Betty while I was away seeing the world, now lived in great comfort and peace of mind in the new house I had helped build and furnish before my departure. At first neither he nor Aunt Betty would listen to my going to the Haywards, but after a few days, and much to my surprise, they consented. What led them to change their minds I never knew, unless it might have been something Mr. Seymour may have said. For I had told Constance that I thought Mrs. Hayward the best teacher I could have, and that if I did not go there I would not go anywhere. However that may be, I was permitted to do as I liked, and I bless the day that it was so, and the happy chance that thus brought my wayward mind within the influence of Mrs. Hayward's sweet will and gentle presence.

The Haywards, with whom I now went to live, belonged to that fine-tempered class that have made our country what it is. Peasants in position and fortune, they possessed the instincts of rulers and the fortitude that only the noble in body and mind have. Poor, they endured its privations with fortitude, awaiting better fortune with sobriety and patience. If, in the end, their efforts should be crowned with success, they would still retain the generous impulses of their former station, or if this was not to be, their children, less burdened, would achieve the greatness they had failed to grasp. It is among this class, in our free land, that the virtues of the state lie dormant, awaiting warmth and the favoring shower, as all who are acquainted with our people know. Struggling on, vainly more often than otherwise, their children, coming to manhood, rule our country and direct its commerce. Achieving a just ambition in this way, none can excel them the world over in greatness or the gentle arts of husbandry. Nor this alone if we would be truthful. For not all are great, but shoulder to shoulder and crowding, demagogues abound, the like of which has not been seen since the days of Athens. This has been foretold, I know; but who can greatly object if amid so much golden grain some tares appear? Even these depraved creatures have their pride in the Great Republic, sweetened with the belief that they, too, will become honest men like their neighbors, once they have garnered all the loosely guarded resources of the state. Importunate, they abuse our trust, I know, but impartially. For if they rob and delude you to-day, they will deal unfairly with others to-morrow for your benefit, if thereby they can gain further lease of life. So it goes; and shall we complain too bitterly if, good-naturedly permitting every one to thrust his hands into the kneading-trough, many are unclean and much of the bread in consequence shall be sour and unfit for use?

Of Mrs. Hayward I can never say enough, for she was to me in all things a tender mother and loving friend. Of her virtues there was no end, and of these not the least were her gentle womanly ways. In the rude hut where she lived she was yet a queen, and this by right of her grace and the sweet serenity of her nature. Beautiful, the meed of admiration was hers, albeit her only mirror was the placid waters of the great river. Educated, who could deny her admiration, though her only book was her Bible? For such deprivations are ever the distress of poverty and life in a new country. Full of the buoyancy and joy of living, the fragrance of her presence was a benediction, lifting all about her into a world of virtue and peace. Of loving and pure mind, the scandal and distraught of life passed her by, leaving no taint of evil or cloud in her trustful heart. Exalted above men by right of her inability to do wrong, she yet believed in their goodness as she did in the goodness of God. Such was the dear lady with whom I now came to live, and who gave each day some portion of her time to the betterment of my head and heart. Thus instructed, I spent several years of my life, and to my great advantage then and now.

Of Mr. Hayward, what shall I say that you may see him as I do, looking back, and not too clearly, through the fast-gathering years of a long life? A man of talent and ambition, and every way kindly, he yet lost something each day in comparison with her. This not strange, for the pliant reed, bending before the sweeping torrent, recovers its poise unhurt, while the stouter plant, struggling against the swift-running stream, is uprooted or broken in the effort. Amid the rude surroundings in which he sought preferment, and where none might wholly succeed, every encounter left some dent or disfiguring scar. The struggle and its hopelessness seamed his face and clouded his brow, despite his courage, so that all too soon he lost the glow and ambient fire of his youthful days. Diversion would have prevented this, and preserved till death impulses that lost in warmth for lack of nourishment; but this, unhappily, is ever the misfortune of obscure or lonely life. For of vices he had not one, save a too great ambition to get on in the narrow world in which he lived. Amid great surroundings he would have been great. As it was, striving to accomplish much with little, not one of his ventures enriched him, while many failed altogether. Unconquerable, however, he struggled on undismayed, as such men will, to the very end. This, sorrow over it as we may, is, unhappily, ever the beginnings of men as it is of the affairs with which they deal.

Of these friends of my youth I can never think except with bowed head and throbbing heart. One sought to teach me the beauty and sweetness of life, mixing with her instruction the gentle thoughts that animate women and make them, as has been said, the inspiration of men and the Mother of God. The other taught me more simple and practical things, but not the less necessary, on that account, to our welfare and happiness here and hereafter.

*CHAPTER XLVII*

*MAKING THE MOST OF THINGS*

Mr. Hayward in his youth, so it was said, had looked forward to a professorship or something of that nature, but coming to the West when a young man, and there being no call for anything of the kind, he had ended by becoming a ferry-man and small farmer. Of his business I knew little, but my presence affording him some leisure, it was not long before he began to extend his affairs, and in directions not before thought of, or at best only vaguely. In this his energy and fertility of mind never ceased to be a matter of wonder and instruction to me, and never will.

"Learn something every day, Gilbert," he would say, "if it is only the fraction of an idea. You can't make headway else, for it is as necessary to fertilize the mind as it is a cabbage-patch. If you don't thus burnish your wares, they will rust, for there is no standing still. Besides, new ideas are needed to encourage you to keep on in what you are doing, to say nothing of attempting other things."

"How can one learn anything here?" I asked one day, looking about on the still landscape.

"In many ways. You see, you hear, you think; and while the people who use the ferry don't impart much knowledge, the Lord knows it is what their idle chatter suggests that is valuable." And truth to tell, he never failed himself to profit by the advice he gave; for however small the hint conveyed in what he heard or saw, it was enough to set his mind in motion, and so bring forth fruit of some kind.[*]

[*] Gilbert Holmes, on reviewing this chapter of his life, thought it should be omitted. It was apparent, however, that he was influenced in this by the fear that it would in some way reflect on his dear friend Hayward. I could not share in this opinion, believing it greatly to the latter's honor, and for this reason have disregarded his expressions in the matter, feeling that Mr. Hayward was beyond most men, and what he did and said worthy of regard. Moreover, it serves to make us better acquainted with Gilbert Holmes himself, and his sweet charity and gentle ways and belief and trust in those about him: and for these reasons, if for no others, I have thought it should not be omitted.--THE AUTHOR.

As the ferry was not much used, Mr. Hayward early conceived the idea that other things might be sandwiched in to occupy our spare time. For of idleness he was the sworn enemy, and because of it rainy days and other unprofitable moments fretted him beyond endurance. Rest, as most people understand it, he looked upon as idleness.

"You can rest best by changing from one kind of work to another," he would insist, "not by whittling a stick or going to the circus."

It was in pursuance of such ideas that we hit upon the scheme of manufacturing shingles in the intervals of our other duties, and this to our great advantage, as it appeared.

"People must have roofs over their heads, and many have none, or at best only poor ones," he explained. "They need shingles for this, and their manufacture will open a new field for us, and one that will dovetail with our work at the ferry."

For him to conceive an idea was to put it in execution, and so we at once set out to build a machine, and this so near the landing that both industries could be carried on at the same time. The blocks for making the shingles we cut in winter and brought to the mill when other work was not pressing, and in order that bad weather might not hinder us we inclosed the machine in a rough shed. At one side we built a vat, and filling this with blocks of the needed length, we let in the water, and now starting a brisk fire in the furnace, the steam and heated water soon softened the material ready for cutting. I being the smaller of the two, and yet sufficient, held the blocks while Mr. Hayward worked the lever by which the knife was raised and lowered. Black walnut being plentiful, we used it, but sparingly, exacting a higher price. Being tenacious of fiber, the labor of cutting this wood was great, and so taxed Mr. Hayward's muscles that they sometimes fairly snapped under the strain. With cottonwood, of which there was no end, it was different; for if steamed to a proper consistency, you could cut it as you would clip a sausage. Of the two kinds of shingles our preference inclined strongly to cottonwood; on Mr. Hayward's part because the labor was less, and on mine because it did not discolor my hands, black walnut staining them so that they were of every shade from light brown to a deep black. This mortified me at first, but afterward, Constance not speaking of it or appearing to notice anything unusual, I became more reconciled to the disfigurement. Indeed, the dear girl regarded it so little that when visiting us at the mill, if I happened to be packing the shingles, she would sit by my side and pass them to me, one by one, for an hour at a time. Or, if I was holding the blocks in the machine, she would seat herself in my place, and do the work, or make pretense of doing it. At such times I watched her from the platform where I stood, and this not always discreetly; for one day, when observing her instead of attending to the business in hand, I came near to losing my arm under the great knife. After that I determined to be more circumspect, but nevertheless took many desperate chances that I might speak to her or gaze upon her dear form while occupied with my work.

Of the two kinds of shingles, buyers were averse to cottonwood, on the ground that it would warp and, being soft, the more quickly decay. Neither of these things, however, would Mr. Hayward fully admit.

"If properly seasoned, as in our case, and cut with reference to the grain, and afterward laid with sufficient lap and due regard to security of joints, a cottonwood shingle will afford protection that any man may be proud of--for the price," he would say, and truly enough.

Of the prevailing belief that pine made the most serviceable shingle, he professed to think lightly.

"You must not overlook the great difference in cost between cottonwood and pine," he would say to customers; "that is always an important item with poor people. Black walnut is superior in wearing qualities, and we furnish it when wanted; but if utility and cheapness are considered, cottonwood is preferable to all others."

Of the outcome of our sales I do not so well remember, but in new communities, where everything is being tried, buyers do not treasure malice, as they do in older societies, against a seller if they happen not to get the very best.

"Only idle men and fools can spare time to think of their grievances," Mr. Hayward was in the habit of saying, and indeed he carried this out in his own life when he got the worst end of a bargain, as he often did. Moreover, if we had a margin of advantage in the sale of our shingles, it was offset by the difficulty we had in collecting our money afterward.

"Most men are like children," Mr. Hayward used to remark, when looking over our list of bad debts; "they will buy anything if too much stress is not laid on payment, and this last one cannot do if his goods are in discredit, as in our case."

Of the latitude allowed traders in respect to their goods, he was always tenacious, but never to the extent of taking undue advantage of any one.

"In ancient times, among trading people," he once explained, referring to such matters, "gain of every kind was thought meritorious, no matter how acquired. In our day it is different, though we are allowed to put as good a face on matters as possible, and this holds true of cottonwood shingles as much as it does of poor calico or sanded sugar. Our shingles may curve a little now and then if not properly placed, but when Jake Kilp says a boy must sit on every shingle to keep it down, he goes to the other extreme."

"Yes, Klip's a liar," Blott, who was standing by, spoke up. "Why, a willin' boy could easily keep down two such shingles, or three, for that matter, if he was spry."

"Nonsense!" Mr. Hayward answered; "there is nothing funny about it. If they will put enough nails in the shingle it will hold. It is with shingles as it is with trees; but men will plant a ten-dollar tree in a five-cent hole, and then blame the seller if it dies. There is nothing in such economy, though plenty of men practice it."

When we were at work, if a team or horseman were to be sent across the river, Mr. Hayward would go, and that time might not be frittered away, I occupied myself meanwhile collecting and packing the loose shingles ready for delivery. This with great industry, be it said, if Constance and Setti did not happen to be by; but if they were, little was done, at which Mr. Hayward would stare on his return, but never in an angry way.

As the demand for our product was limited, it became necessary to devise other means of filling up the time, and accordingly Mr. Hayward hit upon the idea of manufacturing mattresses, great numbers being required by the people coming into the new country. Of hair and things of that sort generally resorted to by manufacturers we had none, but of corn-husks great quantities, and of much delicacy and firmness of texture. These Mr. Hayward conceived to be especially fit for making beds--not, indeed, in their raw state, but manufactured to meet needed conditions. The machinery we used for this was simple in the extreme. Taking pieces of wire, we heated the ends, and in that condition pressed them into a board of suitable width and thickness. The other ends we sharpened to a point, and thus had a strong comb of upright wires. Now taking the husk in our hands, we drew it across the sharpened prongs, and so split it into myriads of small threads. Afterward collecting these, we had the material for a bed.

"A couch fit for a prince," Mr. Hayward maintained, "and the equal of the best in durability and restful qualities. Its healthfulness recommends it, too, because of freedom from vermin and the small particles noxious to the lungs and body known to attach themselves to feathers, no matter how carefully selected and steamed."

Of these beds we manufactured many, and with fair profit so long as our husks held out. Afterward, buying in the market, our gains were lessened, but not perceptibly, as the material was not thought to have any value to speak of. The labor of production, while not great, was exacting in the extreme, for if by chance the eye wandered ever so little, your fingers becoming impaled on the sharp needles, ugly wounds would result.

"Such accidents," Mr. Hayward would say, philosophically, "teach the necessity of close application in business if one would avoid mishaps," but Mrs. Hayward, looking upon them in a less practical way, would often shed tears, as she busied herself binding up our torn hands.

To further our industry, we also made bolsters and pillows from husks and a species of lichen, which latter was found in great abundance in the neighborhood. Separating this with care, and afterward heating it, Mr. Hayward maintained that a pillow thus manufactured was the equal of the best.

"Not only that, but it will be found to possess aromatic qualities highly curative of influenzas and catarrhal afflictions prevalent here. As regards comfort nothing can excel it, unless it may be the selected feathers of tame geese, and these being rare and high-priced, none but the rich can afford them."

However, notwithstanding the excellence of our goods, trade lagged, and this despite all that could be said.

"The trouble is," Mr. Hayward was in the habit of saying, "a pillow being open to the view of visitors, something plump and fluffy must be exhibited by every good housewife. Because of that we must content ourselves with making pillows for rooms that the critical eyes of neighbors do not reach. Our mattresses being hid away, people buy them and save money, but they must have fat pillows made of feathers for the effect on visitors and other peepers. Pillows ought not to be used, anyway," he always maintained, "for they give people stringy necks, like turkeys; but if used at all, they should be of moderate thickness, such as we make."

The forms of industry I have enumerated, however productive, were only a part of Mr. Hayward's means of piecing out our profit-and-loss account, and among other things a way of utilizing the forests that lay about our house soon suggested itself to his practical mind. There, if it were mild, our cattle found nourishment to carry them through the winter, with little of the help other and less provident farmers were required to furnish. Protected by the trees, the soft grasses grew far into the winter, and with the first disappearance of snow sprung again into luxuriant life. The cows, thus fed with little or no expense, afforded us butter and milk, and a margin for sale; but as this last required some measure of attention upon the part of Mrs. Hayward, he did not press it. For in all things he was very tender of her, shielding her in every way from the hardships he himself so unflinchingly faced. Of this I thought much and gratefully at the time and in after years, and the more because of his boundless ambition and great activity of life.

The care of the cattle, pastured in the way I have described, being a matter apart, was attended to when other business did not press. Thus, if at dark they had not come home, I went in search of them, and in this my knowledge of the woods and the wiles of these creatures stood me in good stead. Going this way and that, and stopping at intervals to listen, no sound would reach me save those peculiar to the forest at night. For of all cunning animals there are none, you must know, equal in wiliness to the leader of such a herd. She comes to know, and this with certainty, that the slightest movement means discovery, followed by other annoyances repugnant to her placid nature. Because of this she will maintain such steadiness of poise for hours at a time that no warning note of the bell she carries will disturb the stillness to mark her presence. Thus I would often wander about or sit listening on my horse far into the night, until some unlucky stroke betrayed her whereabouts. Because of these visits my face and hands were much disfigured by the stings of mosquitoes and other insects; but of the former Mr. Hayward maintained, and doctors there were who agreed with him, that it was preventive of malarial ailments, and in other ways of considerable sanitary benefit to men. This, I know, is now disputed, but certain it is that my wanderings never resulted in any harm to me. On the contrary, I each day grew more robust, and so straightened out that at sixteen I had attained my full height.

Of the many varied diseases then common to the new country, Mr. Hayward acquired a specific for fever and ague that was superior to all others then known. Not only would it stop the tremor of the chill and the fever that followed, but killed the disease utterly, so that no trace of it afterward reappeared. This, it is well known, quinine will not do; and it followed that our house came to be much frequented by those afflicted in the way I speak of. Indeed, it was no unusual thing when we arose in the morning to find a motley crowd, with sallow faces, standing about the door, their teeth chattering like castanets in the frosty air. Supplying ourselves, therefore, with great quantities of the specific, and selling it at a moderate profit and for cash, when we could, we derived much gain and the community a great and lasting benefit. For in this thing Mr. Hayward was admittedly a benefactor, as he was in many other matters not so apparent at the time. If it happened that an applicant was unable to pay, which was often the case, Mr. Hayward would refuse to accept anything; and as nearly every one was poor, Mrs. Hayward would often say:

"Why do you take pay for the medicine, William? Surely the cost is not enough to speak of." But to this he would always answer:

"They would never touch the stuff if I gave it away, Helen. Medicine is like advice; if people have to pay, they will go miles to get it, even from a knave or fool. Why not charge something? My medicine is better than the doctor's, and the cost not nearly so much. Besides, my dear, as I say, they would not come near us if we gave it away. It is the people who set great store on what they have that are most sought after."

As our little farm had to be tilled, this required horses, and as the best were high-priced, and we did not have much money, Mr. Hayward contented himself with such as he could get at a moderate figure. It resulted from this, our selection being limited, that we were often scurvily dealt with by those having these animals to sell. Often by patience we could bring the unruly beast under subjection, but at best only partially; for of all things in the world a horse is the most difficult to break of a bad habit. In this way we came in time to own a great variety of animals, some of which, notwithstanding Mr. Hayward's skill as a trader, he found it impossible to dispose of except at a loss. One animal of great stature that we acquired in the way I speak of had a trouble in breathing, but this we did not discover until too late, some soothing lotion having been used to deceive us for the moment. Indeed, so choked would the animal become with undue exercise that coming suddenly upon a croupy child could not startle you more. There were those who maintained that the Raven, for so Mrs. Hayward named him, was broken in wind, but this Mr. Hayward would not admit, ascribing the trouble mainly to irritation of the larynx, such as singers and public speakers are often afflicted with. With a moderate gait, however, the Raven would go from sunrise to sunset without show of weariness; and of all the horses I have ever known there was never one with a better disposition. So true was this that in the excursions Mrs. Hayward and Constance and I sometimes took at odd moments and in the way of indulgence, we always chose the Raven by preference. Fastening him beside the pole, he would haul a wagon with ease, and because of his great docility could be safely left beside the road or wherever we might wish to stop. For gossiping and idling by the way, no horse in the world could equal him. Indeed, from the manner in which he pricked up his ears, and a habit he had of changing from one foot to another, we came in time to think he understood much, if not all, we said. He must be driven quietly, however, and within limits. For if you but urged him beyond this, the women would hurry from their homes as we passed, to see if by chance some child had not been stricken with croup or other ailment of the throat, so loud and hoarse was his croaking.

Of the end of this valuable animal I do not know, for in an unfortunate hour and through eagerness of trade Mr. Hayward swapped him for a cholera specific he thought we could use to advantage. This trade caused us all much sorrow, for of the Raven we never heard more. Of the cholera medicine, however, we came to know a great deal, for about this time, the dreadful scourge being prevalent in the neighborhood, and the people being frightened, every ail that afflicted them they ascribed to its presence. In these emergencies Mr. Hayward had recourse to our specific, and this not always advisedly; for it was very hot and scalding to the mouth, so that the lips of those who used it were in a constant state of irritation, as if they had eaten cranberries or something of that nature, and this without the use of napkin or similar device.

From this medicine Mr. Hayward derived great profit; for coming down shortly with the disease, he would take nothing else, and happily recovering and the people hearing of it, they came from far and near to supply themselves with the remedy. Indeed, the sale of it came nigh to making him rich, had not losses in other directions about that time offset his gains from this source. Being of an experimental turn of mind, he thought to try the specific on our horses and cattle in cases of colic, and this with great success, as it turned out, so that from that time on we were saved the expense of veterinary surgeons and cow doctors in respect of this particular malady. When the great merit of the medicine became apparent, Mr. Hayward told me how he acquired it, and this for my benefit, I thought.

"The man was not much inclined to dicker, but when I told him he must give boot, he began to prick up his ears. Never trade even, Gilbert, though it is only a jackknife. The bargain looks more attractive to the other if you claim your goods are worth the most. I let him do all the talking, too, for I once heard of a man who grew rich, and all because he stuttered. Those with whom he dealt, out of pity, would talk for both sides, and when they reached a point that made the trade attractive, the stutterer would close the deal. Nor is stuttering so much of an affliction otherwise as people think. It is a great pity it is so easy to talk, for in the main it doesn't amount to anything. If you are not inclined to believe me, watch the first two men you see together. Neither listens to the other, unless it be a bit of gossip, but each waits his turn to speak, and not always patiently, either. Talking is a disease with many, and results in much harm, and for that reason it would be better, I think, if it required some effort to use the voice."

Thus by trade and harmless dicker, such as I have described, Mr. Hayward added to the earnings of the ferry and our little farm. Of the last the soil was rich beyond belief from the overflow of the river, but in dickering for the land, this drainage, Mr. Hayward pointed out to the seller, might lessen its value, because of the baleful effect on the health of those who worked it. Having, however, obtained possession of the farm at a fair price, it turned out different from what he had thought.

"The overflow," he was in the habit of saying afterward, "far from proving injurious, is really beneficial in this, that it purifies and sweetens the earth, which would otherwise become clogged with malarial germs. This in addition to greatly enriching the soil." Thus his fears, as it often happens in trade, proved groundless once the bargain was struck and resultant benefits clearly seen.

This farm Mr. Hayward and I looked after unaided, save in the middle summer, when possibly some patch of grain was to be gathered and threshed. Mostly we cultivated corn, as being a sure crop, and afterward affording fodder for the cattle and much choice material for mattresses, as I have explained. As our work took us some distance from the landing, where we could not hear the bell on the farther side of the river, Mrs. Hayward contrived a way out of the difficulty, and very cunningly, we thought. To do this, she caused a flagstaff to be erected near the house, and here, when there was a call for the ferry, she gave us notice by hoisting a signal. If a foot passenger, meaning me, the flag was white; if a team or horseman, and requiring the big boat and Mr. Hayward's presence, red was used. Supplementary to these, she raised a black flag to tell us it was time for dinner or supper. Black, she would say, was most appropriate for this, because of our great appetites, and indeed we were never lacking in this respect. Going to and from the ferry when working in the field we considered a rest, so that we came in time to look forward with considerable strife to see which flag, the red or the white, was raised by the sweet lady, our mistress, at the house.

*CHAPTER XLVIII*

*THE CARRIERS*

At night, when supper was over and Mr. Hayward had some leisure to look about, he was in the habit of saying that the man who built his house, whoever he might be, would not have ruined himself had he made the ceiling a log or two higher.

"Nor can I see, for the life of me," he would add, as he surveyed our narrow quarters, "why he cut the logs so short, when the forest is full of fine timber he could have had for the taking."

Off the main room, and there was but one, we built a kitchen, and beside it a sleeping-room. This was thought by some of the neighbors to indicate growing pride and a striving after luxury, though the addition sloped to the ground so fast that the side next the eaves did not afford room for one to stand upright. This inconvenience, however, we did not much regard, a little stooping now and then not doing any one harm. The attic over the main room was mine, to do with as I pleased, save some small space set apart for seed-corn and things of that kind in winter. It was reached, and deftly enough, by a ladder of stout poles, which answered the purpose perfectly, and had the great merit, moreover, of taking up little or no room. My bed occupied one corner, and lying outstretched my nose would have scraped the shingles had it been an inch or two longer. These shingles were neither black walnut nor cottonwood, as you may think, but oak clapboards split and shaved in the old way, before shingles were known in the new country. If they did not always keep out the water, it did not enter in any great quantity, and by using a little calculation one might avoid it entirely.

The room was greatly to my fancy, and I have never seen one I liked so well. If in summer it was sometimes hot, because of proximity to the roof, air might always be obtained from the window at the end; and as for light and ventilation, this and the crevices in the roof afforded all that any reasonable person could desire. What was best about it, though, was its nearness to the wind and rain. For lying upon my bed, the patter and swash of the water sounded directly in my face, and when the wind pushed and crowded about the house it was not at some far-off place, but in my very ears. Such volume and artfulness of sound, too, words cannot describe, each log and crevice of varying size answering back some note of its own to pouring rain or driving wind. Nowhere else, indeed, have I heard, or ever will, such symphonies; for these things belong to our youth, and come not in like freshness to the mind or wearied body of more mature years.

It was the river, however, that attracted me most, for there was no end to its beauty and variety. In rain and sunshine, it made no difference, it kept its way, changing with every cloud and breath of air, always offering some new and better view. Of the ferry, Mr. Hayward, discarding all the devices of our competitors, adopted in their place a method better than them all; and in this I will not except the McDuffs, who made so much of their new-fangled power and patent steering-gear. Nothing could be more picturesque, either, than our device. For going up the river a little way, Mr. Hayward attached a stout wire to a great tree that grew on an island there, and uncoiling the wire, brought it down, and connected it to a rope fastened to each end of the great boat. Drawing this rope taut at the prow, the latter pointed up the stream, and so, loosening the craft from the shore, the current carried it swiftly to the other side. Of all Mr. Hayward's methods for saving labor and cutting down expenses not one exceeded this, I thought. To prevent the wire dragging in the water, it was upheld by buoys, and these always facing about in the direction the great boat was going, added to the beauty and animation of the scene. These devices were the subject of much ridicule at first, and more especially on the part of the McDuffs, but on trial, the community coming to regard them with favor, the subject was not referred to again.

Of the doings of these McDuffs little that was good could be said. Not only were they innovators in respect to the use of steam, but given, as we proved more than once, to the cutting of rates and other underhand dealings of a like nature. Such practices Mr. Hayward despised as unworthy of common carriers, nor would he be a party to them in any way; unless, indeed, it might be in the case of a large customer, but then only sparingly and under close cover, so that there could be no known excuse save weakness or pure spite for the cutting of rates on the part of others. The McDuffs were also given to misrepresenting distances, to the injury of our ferry, so far as their stories were believed by the simple-minded. In this and other ways they were a constant source of irritation and injury to trade, and to such a degree that as a way out Mr. Hayward, with great circumspection of conduct, finally proposed a trust, or consolidation of the properties. This project came nigh to happening, too, and indeed was thought to be as good as done, when word of it somehow came to the ears of the public. Upon this the community flew into a rage, accusing us of monopolistic tendencies and other and worse things, so that in the end the undertaking fell through. In the warfare that was made upon us at this time, strangely enough the most bitter were those who never made any use of the ferry to speak of. This I could not understand until Mr. Hayward explained it.

"There are a lot of people who lie awake nights watching and listening lest the public suffer some wrong. These guardians, as a rule, never achieve anything themselves, and in the end are buried at the expense of their friends. In every case they are impracticable people, with little or no knowledge of affairs. Well meaning enough, they will pull a house down to straighten the lightning-rod, or destroy a garment to remove a stain. The trouble is they lack sense. With skulls big enough to hold a squash, they have nothing to fill the space save surmises and suspicions."

We were always of the firm opinion that the McDuffs had made known Mr. Hayward's efforts to consolidate the properties, and this to discredit us with the public, for grievously we suffered from the falling off of traffic that followed. This until, happily, the wife of the mayor of Appletop bringing forth triplets, and all boys, the mind of the community was diverted for the moment. As it would happen, too, an accident occurring about the same time at the McDuffs', whereby a passenger lost his life--a thing Mr. Hayward had clearly foretold--we came again into our share of the business, and kept it. Mr. Hayward, however, was ever very sore on the subject.

"The consolidation was clearly in the interest of the people," he would say in speaking of it. "They would have had only one family to support instead of two, as at present, and reduction in tolls would surely have followed sooner or later. Why, except for such things mankind would be eating roots to-day and living in caves. Affairs of state have felt this most of all, for one government answers now where there were myriads at one time. Thus England has but one ruler, where she once had fifty to support, with all their hungry followers. There was consolidation for you with a vengeance, and it has been so with every country on the globe. So it will be with many industries. You may be sure, though, that not one little despot was ever tumbled from his throne without the people raising a cry that they were being enslaved."

"Has everything been done that will be in this direction?" a chance traveler asked one day, hearing what Mr. Hayward said.

"No; it will go on until each continent has but one government, and in the end all will be merged."

"Which people will dominate?" the traveler inquired, as if quizzing him.

"The most vigorous and the wisest. The nations we know, however, will all have disappeared ere then, it is probable. No one can tell."

Thus Mr. Hayward would go on by the hour when the subject of interference with natural laws was spoken of, and nothing could stop him.