Chinks of Clannyford

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I I f • t

Chapter I

UITE in the suburbs of the busy town, where the noise of its strife and toil came but faintly, in a broad, quiet, pleasant street, the June sunlight looked down upon a beautiful home. There was a stately house with wide lawn and grand, shadowy old trees ; a garden bright with flowers ; vases filled with trailing vines ; statues gleaming here and there, and a fountain flashing in the morning sunlight and flinging its glittering mist of spray far out on the soft green grass.

By the gate, where a broad carriage-drive opened out upon the highway, a boy some fourteen years of age was standing — or rather leaning against the high gate-post — his arms folded and his gaze wandering dreamily up and down the road. A frank, blithe, bright face, his looked, even under its veil

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of thoughtfulness, like one whose abounding life and activity would scarcely allow him to remain long idle. The sound of feet on the graveled road suddenly ended his reverie. He turned quickly as a man approached leading a horse, and a little tone of impatience flashed into his voice as he called :

Hurry up, Barney ! Fve been waiting this long time !”

‘^Shure, it’s hurryin’ I’ve been for the last half hour,” responded Barney, composedly. ‘^Here’s Lio all ready for thravelin’, an’ I’m hopin’ he’ll go well, for it’s mesilf can tistify that he won’t hould still well.”

Ah, Lio, my fine fellow ! in good spirits, are you ?” The boy stroked the animal’s glossy neck caressingly. We will be off, then.”

You’d beither be takin’ up wid my counsel, Masther Kint, anj stay where ye are,” said the man. It’ll rain long enough afore the day’s over.”

The sky looked as sunny and blue as the eyes which the boy lifted toward it. His glance swept the horizon, then rested in merry unbelief upon the face of his counselor.

Oh, Barney, you are no prophet !”

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No profit, ain’t I, thin ? Sliure, your father must be havin’ a quare fancy for misfortunate bargains, an’ him a-payin’ me wages for this tin years, intirely !” responded Barney, with a humorous twinkle of the eyes that looked out from under his old straw hat.

Kent laughed.

You are good at almost everything else, Barney, but you are a poor barometer.”

Barney’s ignorance this time was real instead of feigned. He scratched his head with a puzzled look, and at last admitted, though with evident reluctance :

“ Barnometer ? barnometer ? I thought I knowed everything about a barn, but that’s a thrifle I don’t just rightly comprehind, it’s thrue for ye.”

Just then a red face was thrust out of the open window of a little house near tli€ gate, and a woman’s voice called :

^^Now, thin, jist ride where ye plaze, an’ a good time to you, Masther Kint, darlint, an’ don’t be heedin’ Barney’s botherin’ ; it’s himself as is always seein’ signs of rain, an’ spilin’ a body’s comfort wid his blatherin’ storms. Shure, it’s a fine day, intirely.”

So it is, Peggy.” Kent was already mounted.

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He laughed, touched Lio and sped out through the gateway and up the street, passing fine old residences and pretty cottages, until the houses began to grow more and more distant from each other, tastefully-ornamented grounds giving place to long sweeps of meadow and the quiet street merging into a still more quiet country road.

The boy rode more slowly when the city was fairly behind him. The green fields stretching away under the sunlight, and the narrow strips of woodland that occasionally threw cool shadows on his path and made the air fragrant with the breath of wild flowers, were in themselves a subtle temptation to loitering. Then, too, there was a thought busy in Kent Graham’s heart that day that made him almost unconscious whether he were riding fast or slow — a vague unrest that had kept him dissatisfied and half impatient all the morning, and had had no little share in starting him forth on his trip. He could give the troublesome guest no name ; he did not know what it was that he wanted or did not want, or was dissatisfied with. His vacation, looked forward to with boyish eagerness, had suddenly become a burden upon his hands ; his plans of pleasure seemed not worth the carrying out.

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Nothing to do but amuse myself, and I can’t do that,” he murmured to himself, in a half amused, half vexed way, at last. suspect ‘myself’

isn’t quite big enough to fill myself, and I shall have to take in some extra stock. Any way. I’ll go out to Uncle Nathan’s and see what they are all about.”

He caught up the bridle he had been holding so loosely, and was starting forward at a more rapid pace, when a figure by the wayside caused him quickly to draw rein again. A short distance from the road ran a small stream, and near it, upon the trunk of a fallen tree, sat a boy larger and apparently two years older than Kent. His head was bent down, his chin supported by his hands, while his elbows rested upon his knees. His torn hat, drawn low over his eyes, revealed at the back a mass of thick black curls. His face was turned away from the road, and if he had heard any one approaching, he gave no token of such consciousness, until Kent, having scanned him for a moment, called questioningly :

“ Sam ? Sam Cresly, is that you ?”

He partly turned then, and answered briefly and rather gruffly :

“Yes.”

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I haven’t seen you this long time/’ Kent said, cordially, approaching him. What are you doing here ?” he added, a little curiously.

Nothing but minding my own business,” was the reply, in a tone that plainly indicated a wish that his questioner would engage in the same laudable occupation, and taking no notice whatever of the kindly greeting, he turned his head still farther away.

What is the matter, Sam ?” asked Kent, in an altered tone, after a moment’s silence.

It don’t concern you what the matter is,” said Sam, his impatience bursting all bounds at the question. I want to be let alone, that’s all ! It’s a free country — leastways, they say it is — and I’ve a right to sit here if I want to; it don’t trouble you any, and the sooner you ride on, the better.”

Are you crazy, Sam Cresly ?” demanded Kent, anger and astonishment struggling for the mastery. ^‘What do you mean by talking to me in that style ?”

In his indignant surprise he emphasized the little word ^^me” almost unconsciously, but Sam noticed it in an instant, and commented sneeringly :

Talk to you that way ! Oh yes ; nobody

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must say anything to you that you don’t like! You are Kent Graham, and your father is rich and owns the mill. I’m nothing to nobody; you might go to old Grail and get me turned out of my place ; you’d better do it 1”

Kent’s face flushed angrily. His was a generous nature, to which the very fact of possessing any power over another by which he could wound or injure was sufficient reason why that one, of all others, should be secure. So, though this imputation was hard to bear, there yet was that in it which curbed his resentment, and he only answered :

I don’t think I could do anything of the kind if I would, and I would not if I could ; you know that as well as I do. If you want the whole brookside to yourself, you can have it ; you are not civil enough to have anybody care to stay with you long.”

Sam looked after him as he rode away, watching until he was out of sight.

Crazy to talk to him that way?’ Well, sfpose I was,” he muttered ; only made him mad, an4 didn’t do me no good. But I don’t care — no, I don’t. What right had he, all dressed up and riding his fine horse, to ask me what’s the matter ?

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It’s nothing to him. He has all he wants — money and friends and a good time; everybody notices him, and cares for him, and is glad to see him. He’d find what the matter was quicT^ enough if he was like me — only a poor ragged feller that worked in the mill, and his father a — ”

The boy paused suddenly and leaned his head down upon the old trunk with a quick breath that was half a sob.

Kent rode on rapidly, his lips compressed and his eyes flashing for a few moments, until his vexation seemed partly to have expended itself in his quick ride. Then he fell into a slower pace and calmer thought, but his brow grew more puzzled as the flush passed away from it. That wasn’t a bit like Sam Cresly! I do wonder what is the matter with him ?” was the question that formed itself again and again, and to which he could find no answer. A beautiful tuft of violets, lifting their heads from their beds of moss, caught his eye, and suggested a new thought :

How Aunt Gray would like those ! I’ll ride through Clannyford and take them to her ; maybe she can tell me about Sam and dismounting, he soon possessed himself of the fragrant blossoms.

Clannyford — or Clanny’s Ford, as the place had

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been origii^ally called — was on the river side, about two miles from the city. It was only a small village that had grown up around the Graham Mills, and its houses, with few exceptions, were occupied by those who were employed in the great manufactory, yet the beauty of its situation and its quiet loveliness attracted many an admiring glance from occasional visitors. Although Kent’s direct route did not lie through the village, it required nd great digression to visit it, and leaving the main road, he turned his horse’s head in that direction. At one of the better class of houses, standing a little apart from the others and surrounded by a neat garden, he drew rein. A cozy little cottage it was, at whose door a kind, motherly face looked out before the boy had fairly dismounted.

^^Ah, my boy, is it?” the old lady said, pleasantly.

Yes, aunty.” Kent followed her into the house with the air of one familiar with the place, and seated himself upon a low chintz-covered lounge by the open window, while she brought fresh water and arranged his already drooping violets in a slender vase.

That room was very unlike any in Kent’s beauti-

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ful home, yet his eyes always glanced about it admiringly — the home-made carpet covering the floor, the heavy old-fashioned arm-chairs, with their cushions of silken patchwork, the plain white curtains at the windows, and the hanging shelves, with their few books — and, indeed, could scarcely have offended older eyes and a more cultivated taste. The simple, cozy little nook suited well its occupant, with her gentle, quiet manner and her lovely face, for it was lovely, even though the hair that framed it was gray and time and sorrow had left their traces upon it.

Aunt Gray,” as Kent called her, was a distant relative of his father’s, but from Robert Graham’s boyhood she had been to him, in all that best deserves the name of friendship, a near friend. She had been the tender, faithful nurse of his young wife during her long illness, and had stood beside her deathbed. He felt for her an almost filial respect and affection, and in her old age, widowed and childless, he would gladly have welcomed her to his own home, but she preferred to keep her quiet life unchanged in the little home made dear by many memories. Countless tokens told, however, that he did not forget her, and Kent was a frequent visitor— her boy, she fondly called him.

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Hadn’t you better take Lio over to Mr. Grail’s stable ?” she asked, after a few moments.

Oh, I did not come to stay this time. I only saw those flowers in the wood, and thought I would bring them to you.”

Where are you going, then ?”

^^Out to Uncle Nathan’s. I took a sudden fancy to do that this morning, because I didn’t know anything better to do.”

^^Well, that is a very good thing in its way,” smiling; “only I thought you had planned so many things for this vacation that you couldn’t spend any of it out of town ?”

“Yes,” answered Kent, slowly, “but I tired of them all ; they didn’t seem worth carrying out, aunty,” half laughing. “How can people make themselves happy ?”

“ I don’t think they can,” she said, quietly.

Kent looked up in surprise ; he had not expected that answer.

“ What can they do, then ?”

“ I do not know, unless they try to make others happy.”

The color mounted suddenly to Kent’s face. Did she think him selfish ?

She saw the look and guessed its cause.

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I have heard physicians say, Kent, that people who are in the habit of constantly watching their own pulse are not very likely to have it beat regularly. I suspect the effect is very much the same if we are always keeping a finger upon our happiness to see how it ebbs and flows. It will live a longer, more healthful life if we do not watch it too closely.’^

I don’t do that,” he answered, quickly, as if her words had been an accusation. I don’t think about it at all, generally, any more than I do whether I’m breathing or not; only just sometimes— I don’t know how or why — the life and pleasure seem to go out of everything. I don’t know what I want, and the things I have been caring about don’t seem worth much.”

Perhaps they are not,” she answered, simply. Certainly she offered no remedy for the vague discontent and unrest he had brought there. Kent wondered a little that she said nothing more, and he was silent for a few minutes, gazing thoughtfully out of the window. Then recalling the errand upon which he had come, he turned toward her again :

Aunty, is anything wrong with the Creslys ? — with Sam ?”

know of nothing unusual the matter with Sam. His father has been drinking worse than ever, and making them all a great deal of trouble.^^ wonder if that was all?’’ said the boy, musingly.

Mrs. Gray looked at him in astonishment, and he laughed.

^^Oh, I don’t mean to say that is not trouble enough for any family, aunty ! I was thinking, though, that I didn’t see why it should have made Sam so abominably uncivil this morning. I came across him a little way out of the village sitting alone by the brook. At first he would hardly speak to me at all, and when he did, he gave me to understand, in very plain English, that my room would be decidedly better than my company.”

Ah ! Kent, my dear,” said Mrs. Gray, shaking her head, with a smile, if you find it hard to be happy with all that the world can give you, you might become even morose and uncivil, sometimes, with a home as wretched as Sam Cresly’s, especially if you were often denied even that miserable shelter by the insane fury of a drunken father, notwithstanding that you worked hard day after day to bring into it such poor scraps of comfort as it possessed.”

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That’s a fact/’ said Kent, soberly. Poor fellow !” He leaned his head on the window-sill, and tried, for a few moments, to imagine himself in Sam’s place, and to fancy what he would have been like under such circumstances.

Mrs. Gray left the room, and went out to the little kitchen adjoining, looking back presently to say,

‘^Wait a few minutes, Kent; you must have some dinner before you go.”

Oh no, thank you, aunty ; it isn’t nearly dinner-time yet.”

But it will be long after it before you get to your uncle’s ; it is nearly sixteen miles, remember. How came you to go this way instead of by the railroad ?”

Just for the fun of it. I’ve been by the cars so many times, and I never went across the country but once ; besides, I wanted to take Lio.”

The old lady looked a little doubtful about the wisdom of the plan.

"What did your father say to it ?” she asked.

The boy laughed.

Just what he almost always does — ^Do as you please about it; only take good care of yourself, and don’t get into trouble.’ ”

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The lady’s smile ended in a sigh as she went back. Kent’s life, tenderly shielded as it was, knew almost no control. The father was fond and proud of his bright, intelligent, high-spirited boy, and as long as he pleased himself” and kept ^^out of trouble,” he seemed satisfied, and. required very little else. Was this self-pleasing, self-care and avoiding of trouble the highest aim that was ever to be set before him? Mrs. Gray wondered, as she moved about arranging plates and cups.

I am making you trouble. Aunt Gray,” Kent said, regretfully, as he watched her through the open door.

Pleasant trouble, then, if there is such a thing. My boy does not come so often that I can afford to be inhospitable. Come, now, and eat your dinner.”

Kent enjoyed the simple dinner with boyish zest, his ride and the quaint, old-fashioned china, which he greatly admired, aiding his appetite, perhaps. He did not know any other garden that raised such tender radishes and delicious strawberries. What splendid cream that was, too ! and those biscuit ! Some way, Phillis never made any that tasted like them. Aunty,” after the manner

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of every good housewife everywhere, looked on and listened well pleased.

Now I will not keep you any longer,’^ she said as he arose. “ I shall not be surprised if we have rain before night, so don’t ride too slowly.”

That is what Barney told me,” answered Kent as he mounted and waved a good-bye. I’ll ride fast.” Still, as he glanced up at the sky, he fancied both cautions had been needless: he could discover no signs of a storm.

Out of the village and into the country road again he passed, and followed its windings over gentle hills and into valleys broken by rippling streams, the pleasant woods and green fields giving place now and then to a substantial farmhouse. Yet,- despite the beauty of the landscape and his enjoyment of it, the boy began, after a time, to realize that his one trip across the country had not made him so familiar with the route as he had fancied, and he was obliged, where two roads met, to stop and consider which one to take. Two or three times he inquired at a house or of some chance passer-by, and once, on so doing, found himself quite out of the way and compelled to retrace his steps for more than a mile, so that altogether his progress was not very rapid. He

CHINKS OF CLANNYFOMH cared but little about that, however : he was in no hurry to reach his journey’s end ; and, after all, the not knowing exactly where he was had a certain charm of novelty about it which he made the most of in his easy, careless way.

He had been thinking of Sam Cresly and his hard, cheerless life, and almost forgetting what was around him, when he suddenly became conscious that the bright sunshine had vanished, and looking up, he saw that the clouds were gathering thickly over the sky so clear a few hours before.

Doubly warned, yet I shall be caught in the rain at last if I am not careful ! It is just about like you, Kent Graham, to keep your eyes staring at a bit of blue sky before you, and never look to see what is behind you,” he said. We are a pretty couple, Lio, and we had better travel fast if we want to save ourselves a wetting.”

Lio offered no objection to the suggestion, and started forward at a quicker pace. But the summer storm gathered fast, and Kent, glancing upward again as he entered a wood, saw that the whole sky was overcast. He urged his horse forward still more rapidly as a low, muttering peal of thunder fell upon his ears. Still darker and darker it grew, the great shadowy trees add-

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ing to the gloom, and the thunder grew nearer and louder. On, on, went horse and rider, the. young traveler watching anxiously to see the wood growing lighter and the trees farther apart, that he might know he was coming into the open country again and hope to reach some farmhouse. He looked in vain. The forest grew thicker, more dense about him, and darker, save as vivid flashes of lightning began to light it. Still he pressed forward for another mile, though with a growing conviction that he had mistaken the road. At last the heavy drops began to fall around him. He had surely lost his way ; that forest he never had passed through. Where should he find shelter? Under the tall trees he did not dare to pause; the lightning was becoming so intense as to render them unsafe, even if they could have furnished secure protection from the rain. Suddenly a small clearing opened before him, and within it stood a tiny hut. The boy paused for no second glance or thought, but rode to it, dismounted and knocked hurriedly at the door.

A woman, dark and tall, bearing in her tawny face and erect form some resemblance to both gypsy and Indian, answered the summons, and to his brief explanation and request replied by a bewil-

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dered stare, then, after a moment’s hesitation, threw the door wide open to admit him. Kent glanced at his horse. What could he do for poor Lio ? Some long boards were placed on end against one side of the house — if the place could be so called — forming a kind of shed. He pointed to it:

Can I put my horse there ?”

The woman nodded assent, and in a moment more the animal was led under its shelter, while his master sought that of the hut, none too soon to avoid the drenching rain that came pouring down. Shaking the water from his hat, and brushing it as well as he could from his clothing, the boy accepted the upturned tub toward which the woman pointed him as a seat, and surveyed the situation. A low, rudely-built hut of rough boards, with only the ground for a floor, two windows, or rather places for windows, for while one contained a single sash in which panes of glass and holes were equally divided, the other was only a square aperture, with no pretence of ever having been anything else. For furniture, the place contained the tub on which he sat, a large iron kettle that stood in one corner, a chair without any back and a long bench. At one end of the building was an oddlyfashioned fireplace of stones plastered up with

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clay ; at the opposite end three or four boards had been laid down, and over them, in a confused mass, was scattered a quantity of straw, rags and old garments — bed and clothes-press in one.

A girl of fifteen or sixteen years, lighter complexioned than the woman who had appeared at the door, and with long light hair almost tlie color of the dirty faded dress she wore hanging about her shoulders, sat upon the bench. A quantity of willow was scattered around her, some of which she was weaving into a basket. The broken chair was occupied by an old woman — very, very old she seemed to -Kent, with her dark, wrinkled face looking out from a mat of rough gray hair. Her feet were bare, as were those of the other two, and her dress consisted of a skirt of bright flannel, with a piece of an old bed-quilt pinned about her shoulders. She raised her bleared eyes toward the boy when he first entered, but after that did not seem to notice him. The girl glanced at him with a kind of stupid curiosity now and then, but no one spoke to him.

He thought the three were the only occupants of the room at first, but presently there was a rustling in the corner, and out from among the rags and straw a little head was pushed, and a

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pair of large black eyes were fixed in solemn astonishment upon Kent’s face. For about two minutes the head was all that was visible; then the child, a boy five or six years old, began slowly to creep out from his covering, and at last stood upon his feet, never once turning his gaze from the visitor. There was another pause, another long look, and then he slowly crept up step by step until he was within reach, when, stretching out his hand, he touched Kent’s sleeve cautiously, as though he were some strange animal with which it might not be quite safe to meddle. Finding that no harm ensued, he repeated the experiment, and then growing bolder, he walked around the young stranger, viewing him curiously on every side.

Kent could not help in some measure returning the compliment, with a feeling of blended pity and amusement. The dark-faced, black-eyed little fellow presented a singular figure, clad as he was in garments that had originally belonged to some one twice his size, and that had known no other alteration than a simple cutting off of the superfluous length.

Will you tell me what your name is ?” asked Kent, at length, anxious to divert the child from

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his occupation of examining his jacket buttons with his little dirty brown fingers.

The black eyes searched his face for an instant, as if suspicious that some evil intention lurked under the question, and their owner withdrew a step or two before he answered :

^^And whose boy are you?’’ pursued Kent, pleasantly, for the sound of a voice made that gloomy place seem a little more like a human habitation.

“ Hey ?” said the child, wonderingly.

“ Won’t you tell me who your father is?”

The perplexed look deepened on Dan’s face.

‘^Father? What’s father? If ye mean Joe, he’s dead, an’ if ye mean Pipe, he’s scooted off. Mean Pipe ?”

^^No,” answered Kent, bewildered in his turn.

What’s father?” said Dan, again. never seen none.”

Scoot, Dan! Clear away, I tell ye!” interposed the tall woman suddenly, though without looking up from her basket-weaving. Dan retreated to his corner, and the young traveler was once more left in silence.

He glanced anxiously out of the window; it

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was still raining violently. He looked at his watch; it was already after four. He began to wish himself well out of the adventure. Another hour dragged slowly by. The vivid lightning had passed away and the thunder had subsided into an occasional low and distant peal, but the rain still fell heavily and showed no signs of abating. The boy began to dread being obliged to remain all night in his strange and uncomfortable quarters. He would far rather have braved the storm if he had known in which direction to ride, but he did not. Once he appealed to the girl :

Do you know the road to Stafford Dunno. Sime does.^^

Where is Sime asked Kent, eagerly.

Dunno ; dl come after while.^^

He could gain nothing more, and there was left for him only to exercise what patience he could.

After a time the door was thrown open, and there entered a large, rough-looking man bringing several pieces of fresh meat. He was followed by a boy considerably larger and older than Kent who carried a bag slung over his shoulder. Each deposited his burden, and then turned a questioning look upon the stranger.

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^^Got mazed in the timber, an’ clriv’ in out the rain,” explained the tall woman, briefly.

The man muttered something in reply that Kent did not understand, and the'boy turned toward him with a kind of grin-.

Do you know the road to Stafford ?” questioned Kent, desperately.

^^Yaas.”

Could I find the way to-night, do you think?”

'^Dunno; it’ll be dark.”

If you could show me the way — ” Kent began. The boy shrugged his shoulders.

^^Yaas, arter it’s done raining,” he answered, turning away; his attention seeming to be fully absorbed in the movements of the woman, wdio, partly filling the large kettle with water, cut some of the meat into it and hung it over the' fire. That done, she oj)ened the bag which the boy had brought in, displaying to view a strange medley of broken bits of bread, cold biscuit, potatoes and fragments of meat. She selected some potatoes and some pieces of bread and threw them into the kettle, then tying the rest up in the bag, deposited it in one corner of the room.