Silas Strong 2

Silas Strong 2

"Maybe Uncle Silas has ketched a panther by the tail, too," said she,

hopefully. Socky, his hands in his pockets, looked down with a dazed

__EXPRESSION__.

 

"I'm going to ask father," said he, thoughtfully.

 

It was now late in the afternoon. They went home and sat in silence on

the veranda, watching for their father. The old Frenchwoman who kept

house for him tried to coax them in, but they would make no words with

her. Long they sat there looking wistfully down the river-bank.

 

Presently Sue hauled out of her pocket a tiny rag doll which she carried

for casual use. It came handy in moments of loneliness and despair

outside the house. She toyed with its garments, humming in a motherly

fashion. It was nearly dark when they saw their father staggering

homeward according to his habit. They knew not yet the meaning of that

wavering walk.

 

"There he comes!" said Socky, as they both ran to meet him. "He can't

carry us to-night. He's awful tired."

 

They thought him "tired." They kissed him and took his hands in theirs,

and led him into the house. Stern and silent he sat down beside them

at the supper-table. The children were also silent and sober-faced from

intuitive sympathy. They could not yet introduce the topic which weighed

upon them.

 

Socky looked at his father. For the first time he noted that his clothes

were shabby; he knew that a few days before his father had lost his

watch. The boy stole away from the table, and went to his little trunk

and brought the sacred thing which his teacher had given him Christmas

Day--a cheap watch that told time with a noisy and inspiring tick. He

laid it down by his father's plate.

 

"There," said he, "I'm going to let you wear my watch."

 

It was one of those deep thrusts which only the hand of innocence can

administer. Richard Gordon took the watch in his hand and sat a moment

looking down. The boy manfully resumed his chair.

 

"It don't look very well for you to be going around without a watch," he

remarked, taking up his piece of bread and butter.

 

His father put the watch in his pocket.

 

"You can let me wear it Sundays," the boy added. "You won't need it

Sundays."

 

A smile overspread the man's face.

 

The children, quick to see their opportunity, approached him on either

side. Sue put her arms around the neck of her father and kissed him.

 

"Tell us a story about Uncle Silas," she pleaded.

 

"Uncle Silas!" he exclaimed. "We're all going to see him in a few days."

 

The children were mute with surprise. Sue's little doll dropped from her

hands to the floor. Her face changed color and she turned quickly, with

a loud cry, and drummed on the table so that the dishes rattled. Socky

leaned over the back of a chair and shook his head, and gave his feet a

fling and then recovered his dignity.

 

"Now don't get excited," remarked their father.

 

They ran out of the room, and stood laughing and whispering together for

a moment. Then they rushed back.

 

"When are we going?" the boy inquired.

 

"In a day or two," said Gordon, who still sat drinking his tea.

 

Sue ran to tell Aunt Marie, the housekeeper, and Socky sat in his little

rocking-chair for a moment of sober thought.

 

"Look here, old chap," said Gordon, who was wont to apply the terms of

mature good-fellowship to his little son. Socky came and stood by the

side of his father.

 

"You an' I have been friends for some time, haven't we?" was the strange

and half-maudlin query which Gordon put to his son.

 

The boy smiled and came nearer.

 

"An' I've always treated ye right--ain't I? Answer me."

 

"Yes, sir."

 

"Well, folks say you're neglected an' that you don't have decent clothes

an' that you might as well have no father at all. Now, old boy, I'm

going to tell you the truth; I'm broke--failed in business, an' have had

to give up. Understand me; I haven't a cent in the world."

 

The man smote his empty pocket suggestively. The boy was now deeply

serious. Not able to comprehend the full purport of his father's words,

he saw something in the face before him which began to hurt. His lower

lip trembled a little.

 

"Don't worry, old friend," said Gordon, clapping him on the shoulder.

 

Just then Sue came running back.

 

"Say," said she, climbing on a round of her father's chair, "did Uncle

Silas ever ketch a panther by the tail?"

 

The children held their breaths waiting for the answer.

 

"Ketch a panther by the tail!" their father exclaimed. "Whatever put

that in your head?"

 

Sue answered with some show of excitement. Her words came fast.

 

"Lizzie Cornell's cousin he said that his Uncle Mose had ketched a

panther by the tail an' knocked his brains out."

 

Their father smiled again.

 

"That kind o' floored ye, didn't it, old girl?" said he, with a kiss.

"Le's see," he continued, drawing the children close on either side of

him. "I don' know as he ever ketched a panther by the tail, but I'll

tell ye what he did do. One day when he hadn't any gun with him he come

acrost a big bear, an' Uncle Sile fetched him a cuff with his fist an'

broke the bear's neck, an' then he brought him home on his back an' et

him for dinner."

 

"Oh!" the girl exclaimed, her mouth and eyes wide open.

 

Socky whistled a shrill note of surprise and thankfulness. Then he

clucked after the manner of one starting his horse.

 

"My stars!" he exclaimed, and so saying he skipped across the floor

and brought his fist down heavily upon the lounge. Uncle Silas had been

saved--plucked, as it were, from the very jaws of obscurity.

 

When they were ready to get into bed the children knelt as usual before

old Aunt Marie, the housekeeper. Sue ventured to add a sentence to her

prayer. "God bless Uncle Silas," said she, "and make him very--very----"

 

The girl hesitated, trying to find the right word.

 

"Powerful," her brother suggested, still in the attitude of devotion.

 

"Powerful," repeated Sue, in a trembling voice, and then added: "for

Christ's sake. Amen."

 

They lay a long time discussing what they should say and do when at last

they were come into the presence of the great man. Suddenly a notion

entered the mind of Socky that, in order to keep the favor of fortune,

he must rise and clap his hand three times upon the round top of the

posts at the foot of the bed. Accordingly he rose and satisfied this

truly pagan impulse.

 

Then he repeated the story of his uncle and the bear over and over

again, pausing thoughtfully at the point of severest action and adding

a little color to heighten the effect. Here and there Sue prompted him,

and details arose which seemed to merit careful consideration.

 

"I wouldn't wonder but what Uncle Silas must 'a' spit on his hand before

he struck the bear," said Socky, remembering how strong men often

prepared themselves for a difficult undertaking.

 

When the story had been amplified, in a generous degree, and well

committed to memory, they began to talk of Lizzie Cornell and her

cousin, the red-headed boy, and planned how they would seek them out

next day and defy them with the last great achievement of their Uncle

Silas.

 

"He's a nasty thing," the girl exclaimed, suddenly.

 

"I feel kind o' sorry for him," said Socky, with a sigh.

 

"Why?"

 

"Cos he thinks his uncle beats the world an' he ain't nowhere."

 

"Maybe he'll want to fight," said Sue.

 

"Then I'll fetch him a cuff."

 

"S'pose you was to break his neck?"

 

"I'll hit him in the breast," said Socky, thoughtfully, feeling his

muscle.

 

Sue soon fell asleep, but Socky lay thinking about his father. He

had crossed the edge of the beginning of trouble. He thought of those

words--and of a certain look which accompanied them--"I haven't got

a cent in the world." What did they mean? He could only judge from

experience--from moments when he had stood looking through glass windows

and showcases at things which had tempted him and which he had not been able to enjoy. Oh, the bitter pain of it! Must his father endure that kind of thing? He lay for a few moments weeping silently.