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woman. 'To work with their hands,' she says. She's hit it plumb. That's all we
ever done in our lives. That's why we never learned new tricks...All the same,
if Miss Lucy teaches us somethin', we can do the same for her."
"I certainly expect you to," said Lucy gladly. "I'd like to learn to take care
of a horse, chop wood, and line bees."
Denmeade let out a hearty laugh.
"Wal, now, listen to her," he ejaculated. "Take care, young woman, an' don't
let my boy Edd hear you say you want to line bees. 'Cause if you do he'll
shore take you. An' say, mebbe hangin' to that long legged boy when he's on a
bee line, mebbe it ain't work!"
"All the same, I shall ask him to take Mertie and me sometime," declared Lucy.
"You couldn't hire Mertie to tramp up an' down these woods all day for
anythin', let alone bees," replied Mrs. Denmeade with scorn. "Mertie sews
clothes for herself or me all day, an' shore she dances all night. But she's
not like the rest of the Denmeades. I reckon Dick would be the best one to go
with you an' Edd."
"Wal, how'd you like to help me an' Uncle Bill plough to-day?" asked Denmeade
quizzingly.
"Plough! Oh, that would be a little too much for me just yet!" laughed Lucy.
"Why, that ride yesterday knocked me out! I'm stiff and sore this morning."
"Shore. That's no easy trail to anyone new to hosses," said Denmeade.
"Mr. Denmeade, I'd like to accept the loan of that tent the school-teacher
offered," rejoined Lucy. "I think I could make myself very comfortable and I
would not be depriving you and your wife of your room."
"Shore. Anythin' you like. Reckon the boys could make a tent tight enough to
keep out bugs, snakes, dogs, wild cats, lions an' bears--an' mebbe hydrophobia
skunks."
"Goodness!...Mr. Denmeade, you're teasing me," exclaimed Lucy.
"Wal, reckon I was," he replied. "Fact is, though, it ain't a bad idee. Summer
is comin' an' the weather will soon get fine fer sleepin' outdoors. I seen the
way Jenks had his tent fixed. Reckon me an' the boys can do it. But to-day we
want to get through ploughin' before the rain...See them clouds comin' up out
of the south-west? That means storm. Mebbe to-night or to-morrow or next
day--but storm shore an' sartin."
"I hope Edd gets in before the rain," said Mrs. Denmeade. "Mertie would be
sick if her new dress got spoiled."
"Ahuh! I reckon," returned Denmeade gruffly. Then as Lucy mounted the steps to
the porch he said to her, "You have the run of the place now, Miss Lucy, an'
you can call on me or the boys any time."
"Who's the best carpenter?" queried Lucy.
"Wal, I reckon Dick is shore handy with tools," replied Denmeade. "An' he has
time before an' after school. But tools is all-fired scarce about hyar."
"Can we buy them at Cedar Ridge?"
"Shore. An' I reckon someone will be ridin' down after the dance."
Lucy did not need to spend much more time looking around the cabins, inside or
outside. The possessions of the Denmeades were so few that a glance had
sufficed to enumerate them. Manifestly also their wants were few. But the
comfort and health of a home did not depend upon how little was necessary. The
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children of pioneers should have some of the conveniences of civilisation.
Lucy did not under-estimate the problem on her hands.
She found that Mrs. Denmeade had removed from the closet whatever had been
there, leaving it for Lucy's use. This enabled Lucy to unpack most of her
belongings. When that was done she took pencil and pad and went outdoors to
find a place to sit down and think and plan.
One of the old black hounds, a dignified and solemn dog, looked at Lucy as if
he realised she should have company, and he went with her. How amused Lucy was
to see the hound walk along with her, manifesting no evidence of friendliness
other than his accompanying her.
Lucy crossed the strip of woods to the edge of the field, and then walked
along under the pines toward the slope. Through the green and black of the
forest she could see the looming red wall. At the end of the field she halted.
Deep dark woodland merged upon the edge of the clearing. She sat down under a
huge pine, from which position she could see out across the open.
"Oh, I'll never be able to concentrate on anything here!" murmured Lucy,
thrilled with the wildness and splendour of the forest. Birds and squirrels
were boisterous, as if rejoicing at the spring. The wind moaned through the
tree-tops, a new sound to Lucy, stirring her blood. Most striking of all was
the fragrance of pine. Lucy revelled a few moments in this sweet wild
solitude, then made a valiant effort to put her mind on her work. At the very
outset she made notes on her pad. The fact that expenditure of funds for the
betterment of living conditions up here had been trusted to her common sense
and discretion made Lucy extremely conscientious. She would purchase only what
was absolutely necessary, and superintend the making of many useful things for
the Denmeades. To this end she applied herself to the task of choosing the
articles she must buy and those she must make.
It turned out to be a fascinating task, made easy by the course of manual
training she had taken at normal school. Prominent among the articles selected
to buy were tools and a sewing-machine. Tools meant the constructing of
chairs, tables, closets, shelves, and many other household articles; a
sewing-machine meant the making of sheets, pillows, towels, curtains,
table-covers, and wearing apparel.
Lucy pictured in her mind what the inside of that cabin would look like in a
couple of months. It filled her with joy for them and pride for herself. The
expense would be little; the labour great. She had already convinced Denmeade
that this welfare work was not charity; in the long run it must be for the
good of the state.
Between such dreams and calculations Lucy mapped out the letters and orders
she would write that afternoon. Then she would have to wait so long until the
things arrived. Still, she reflected, a number of necessities could be
obtained at the store in Cedar Ridge. She would persuade Denmeade to go or
send someone at once.
At length Lucy discovered that without thinking about it she had changed her
position several times to get out of the shade into the sun. The air had grown
chill. Then she became aware of the moan of wind in the pines. How loud,
mournful, strange! Clouds were scudding up from the south-west. They were
still broken, but much heavier and darker than they had been in the early
morning. They made great dark shadows sail along the rolling green crest of
the forest. Gazing upward, Lucy was amazed to see that the clouds obscured the
Rim at the high points. From up there drifted down a low, steady roar. Wind in
the pines! It was a different sound from the sough in the near-by tree-tops.
Birds and squirrels had ceased song and chatter.
Once more Lucy applied herself diligently to her task, and for a while forgot
herself. The wind increased to a gale, intermittent, but steadily growing less
broken. She heard it and thrilled, yet went on with her figuring. Suddenly a
heavy crash somewhere in the woods close at hand thoroughly frightened her. No
doubt a dead tree had blown over. Nervously Lucy gazed about her to see if
there were other dead trees. She espied several and many bleached gnarled
branches shaking in the wind. A great primeval forest like this seemed to be a
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dangerous place.
"I always imagined it would be wonderful to live like an Indian--wild in the
woods," soliloquised Lucy. "But I guess it might be fearful on occasions."
She became prey then to conflicting impulses--one to run back to the cabin,
the other to stay out in this roaring forest. For a moment the latter
dominated her. She stepped out from under the pine into a glade and threw back
her head. How the wind whipped her hair! The odour of pine was now so strong
that it was not far from suffocating. Yet its sweetness seemed intoxicating.
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