“Course I have,” was the rather indignant answer. “I went two years in
Concord. Mamma used to help me nights, too. I can read almost all the
little words. Don't I help you read your paper 'most every night?”
“Sartin you do! Yes, yes! Well, our school opens to-morrer and I've been
thinkin' that maybe you'd better go. There's a new teacher comin', and I
hear she's pretty good.”
“Don't you KNOW? Why, Mr. Tidditt said you was the one that got her to
come here!”
“Yes; well, Asaph says 'most everything but his prayers. Still, he ain't
fur off this time; I cal'late I was some responsible for her bein' voted
in. Yet I don't really know anything about her. You see, I--well, never
mind. What do you think? Want to go?”
Bos'n looked troubled.
“I'd like to,” she said. “Course I want to learn how to read the big
words, too. But I like to stay at home with you more.”
“You do, hey? Sho, sho! Well, I guess I can get along between times.
Georgiana's there to keep me straight and she'll see to the dust and the
dishes. I guess you'd better go to-morrer mornin' and see how you like
it, anyhow.”
The child thought for a moment.
“I think you're awful good,” she said. “I like you next to mamma; even
better than Auntie Oliver. I printed a letter to her the other day. I
told her you were better than we expected and I had decided to live with
you always.”
Captain Cy was startled. Considering that, only the day before, he
had repeated to Bailey the declaration that the arrangement was but
temporary, and that Betsy Howes was escaping responsibility only for a
month or so, he scarcely knew what to say.
“Humph!” he grunted. “You've decided it, have you? Well, we'll see. Now
you trot around and have a good time. I'm goin' to have another smoke.
I'll be here when you get back.”
Bos'n wandered off in search of late golden rod. The captain smoked and
meditated. By and by the puffs were less frequent and the cigar went
out. It fell from his fingers. With his back against a pine tree Captain
Cy dozed peacefully.
He awoke with a jump. Something had awakened him, but he did not know
what. He blinked and gazed about him. Then he heard a faint scream.
“Uncle!” screamed Bos'n. “O--o--o--h! Uncle Cyrus, help me! Come quick!”
The next moment the captain was plunging through the scrub of
huckleberry and bayberry bushes, bumping into pines and smashing the
branches aside as he ran in the direction of the call.
Back of the pine grove was a big inclosed pasture nearly a quarter of
a mile long. Its rear boundary was the iron fence of the cemetery. The
other three sides were marked by rail fences and a stone wall. As the
captain floundered from the grove and vaulted the rail fence he swore
aloud.
“By the big dipper,” he groaned, “it's that cussed heifer! I forgot her.
Keep dodgin', Bos'n girl! I'm comin'.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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