The Secret of the Storm CountryWhite, Grace Miller
Philosophy
The Secret of the Storm Country
White, Grace Miller
Ithaca (N.Y.) -- Fiction; New York (State) -- Fiction; Social classes -- Fiction
Tessibel rose to her feet unsteadily. In her vivid imagination she saw
the strong arm of the law reach out from Auburn Prison and drag from her
care and protection the wee, twisted little man chanting over the verses
and prayers she'd taught him.
"I ain't a goin' to read today,--I got to go now," she gulped. "Good
bye, Miss Young."
Daddy Skinner unbarred the door when he heard Tessibel call his name. At
the sight of his young daughter's agitated face, the fisherman slid into
his chair, beckoning her to a place on his knee.
"What air doin', Tess?" he questioned swiftly. "Ye're as white as
bleached starch."
Tess placed her finger on her lips, glancing in the direction of the
garret. Getting up, she barred the door and crept back to her father's
side.
"Burnett air a scootin' down here after Andy," she murmured, too low for
the dwarf to hear. "Miss Young says it air in the paper. I got to tell
the poor little feller now so he won't die o' fright when the warden
comes."
She went to the ladder and looked up through the hole. Then she set one
foot on the lower rung and began to sing softly,
"Rescue the Perishin';
Care for the Dyin'."
And on and on she sang, in throbbing melody, to the end of the hymn.
Tess had long ago discovered the fear-dissipating qualities of "Rescue
the Perishin'." A long happy sigh in the attic told her the dwarf had
enjoyed her song.
"Andy," she called in a low tone, "come down an' set beside the cot. I
has to talk to ye."
Andy needed no second invitation. His legs were stiff but his heart full
of good cheer, as he scrambled down the ladder with the Bible in his
hand. Crawling across the floor, he propped his bent little body against
the cot, and looked inquiringly at Daddy Skinner, and Daddy Skinner
stared moodily back at him.
"Andy," Tess began, squatting beside him. "Ye remember how slick Daddy
Skinner hopped out o' jail an' right back to me?"
Andy bobbed his head.
"Yep, I remember, brat," he responded. "I were glad fer him, but I sure
were sorry fer myself when he left Auburn."
"An' I were that happy I nearly died," replied Tess, musingly. "Well, I
air goin' to show ye a verse in the Bible what hauled 'im smack out o'
prison." Tess took up the holy book and opened it. "There! now read
it.... Right where my finger air! See?"
For several seconds Andy studied the words under Tessibel's pointing
finger, and Daddy Skinner evinced his interest by bending nearer in a
questioning attitude.
"If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed," Andy spelled haltingly,
and then glanced up, mystified. "Why, it air talkin' about movin'
mountains.... Ain't it, Tess?"
"Sure!" agreed Tess, displaying her white teeth in smiling affirmation.
"See?"
Andy shook his head.
"No, I don't see, brat," he replied. "I ain't wantin' to move no
mountains, I ain't."
Tess flung back her curls impatiently.
"Oh, Andy, yer head air all bone. Now look at me."
Misty, eager eyes were raised to the girl's.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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