Helen's Babies by John Habberton (best novels to read for students .TXT) 📖

to know of even the least thing that in any way concerns you."

"And you're a noble fellow, and--" Whatever other sentiment my companion failed to put into words was impulsively and eloquently communicated by her dear eyes.

But oh, what a cowardly heart your dear cheek rested upon an instant later, fair Alice! Not for the first time in my life did I shrink and tremble at the realization of what duty imperatively required--not for the first time did I go through a harder battle than was ever fought with sword and cannon, and a battle with greater possibilities of danger than the field ever offered. I won it, as a man must do in such fights, if he deserves to live; but I could not help feeling considerably sobered on our homeward drive.

We neared the house, and I had an insane fancy that instead of driving two horses I was astride of one, with spurs at my heels and a saber at my side.

"Let me talk to her NOW, Alice, won't you? Delays are only cowardly."

A slight trembling at my side,--an instant of silence that seemed an hour, yet within which I could count but six footfalls, and Alice replied:--

"Yes; if the parlor happens to be empty, I'll ask her if she won't go in and see you a moment." Then there came a look full of tenderness, wonder, painful solicitude, and then two dear eyes filled with tears.

"We're nearly there, darling," said I, with a reassuring embrace.

"Yes, and you sha'n't be the only hero," said she, straightening herself proudly, and looking a fit model for a Cenobia.

As we passed from behind a clump of evergreens which hid the house from our view, I involuntarily exclaimed, "Gracious!" Upon the piazza stood Mrs. Mayton; at her side stood my two nephews, as dirty in face, in clothing, as I had ever seen them. I don't know but that for a moment I freely forgave them, for their presence might grant me the respite which a sense of duty would not allow me to take.

"Wezhe comed up to wide home wif you," exclaimed Toddie, as Mrs. Mayton greeted me with an odd mixture of courtesy, curiosity and humor. Alice led the way into the parlor whispered to her mother, and commenced to make a rapid exit, when Mrs. Mayton called her back, and motioned her to a chair. Alice and I exchanged sidelong glances.

"Alice says you wish to speak with me, Mr. Burton," said she. "I wonder whether the subject is one upon which I have this afternoon received a minute verbal account from the elder Master Lawrence."

"If you refer to an apparently unwarrantable intrusion upon your family circle, Mrs.--"

"I do, sir," replied the old lady. "Between the statements made by that child, and the hitherto unaccountable change in my daughter's looks during two or three days, I think I have got at the truth of the matter. If the offender were any one else, I should be inclined to be severe; but we mothers of only daughters are apt to have a pretty distinct idea of the merits of young men, and--"

The old lady dropped her head; I sprang to my feet, seized her hand, and reverently kissed it; then Mrs. Mayton, whose only son had died fifteen years before, raised her head and adopted me in the manner peculiar to mothers, while Alice burst into tears and kissed us both.

A few moments later, as three happy people were occupying conventional attitudes, and trying to compose faces which should bear the inspection of whoever might happen into the parlor, Mrs. Mayton observed:--

"My children, between us this matter is understood, but I must caution you against acting in such a way as to make the engagement public at once."

"Trust me for that," hastily exclaimed Alice.

"And me," said I.

"I have no doubt of the intentions and discretion of either of you," resumed Mrs. Mayton, "but you cannot possibly be too cautious." Here a loud laugh from the shrubbery under the windows drowned Mrs. Mayton's voice for a moment, but she continued: "Servants, children,"--here she smiled, and I dropped my head--"persons you may chance to meet--"

Again the laugh broke forth under the window.

"What CAN those girls be laughing at?" exclaimed Alice, moving toward the window, followed by her mother and me.

Seated in a semicircle on the grass were most of the ladies boarding at Mrs. Clarkson's, and in front of them stood Toddie, in that high state of excitement to which sympathetic applause always raises him.

"Say it again," said one of the ladies.

Toddie put on an expression of profound wisdom, made violent gestures with both hands and repeated the following, with frequent gesticulations:--

"Azh wadiant azh ze matchless wose
Zat poeck-artuss fanshy;
Azh fair azh whituss lily-blowzh;
Azh moduss azh a panzhy;
Azh pure azh dew zat hides wiffin
Awwahwah's sun-tissed tsallish;
Azh tender azh ze pwimwose fweet
All zish, and moah, izh Alish."

I gasped for breath.

"Who taught you all that, Toddie?" asked one of the ladies.

"Nobody didn't taught me--I lyned [Footnote: learned] it."

"When did you learn it?"

"Lyned it zish mornin'. Ocken Hawwy said it over, an' over, an' over, djust yots of timezh, out in ze garden."

The ladies all exchanged glances--my lady readers will understand just how, and I assure gentlemen that I did not find their glances at all hard to read. Alice looked at me inquiringly, and she now tells me that I blushed sheepishly and guiltily. Poor Mrs. Mayton staggered to a chair, and exclaimed:--

"Too late! too late!"

Considering their recent achievements, Toddie and Budge were a very modest couple as I drove them home that evening. Budge even made some attempt at apologizing for their appearance, saying that they couldn't find Maggie, and COULDN'T wait any longer; but I assured him that no apology was necessary. I was in such excellent spirits that my feeling became contagious; and we sang songs, told stories, and played ridiculous games most of the evening, paying but little attention to the dinner that was set for us.

"Uncle Harry," said Budge, suddenly, "do you know we haven't ever sung,--'Drown old Pharaoh's Army Hallelujah,' since you've been here? Let's do it now." "All right, old fellow." I knew the song--such as there was of it--and its chorus, as EVERY one does who ever heard the Jubilee Singers render it; but I scarcely understood the meaning of the preparations which Budge made. He drew a large rocking-chair into the middle of the room, and exclaimed:--

"There, Uncle Harry--you sit down. Come along, Tod--you sit on that knee, and I'll sit on this. Lift up both hands, Tod, like I do. Now we're all ready, Uncle Harry."

I sang the first line,--

"When Israel was in bondage, they cried unto de Lord," without any assistance, but the boys came in powerfully on the refrain, beating time simultaneously with their four fists upon my chest. I cannot think it strange that I suddenly ceased singing, but the boys viewed my action from a different standpoint.

"What makes you stop, Uncle Harry?" asked Budge.

"Because you hurt me badly, my boy; you mustn't do that again."

"Why, I guess you ain't very strong; that's the way we do to papa, an' it don't hurt HIM."

Poor Tom! No wonder he grows flat--chested.

"Guesh you's a ky--baby," suggested Toddie.

This imputation I bore with meekness, but ventured to remark that it was bed-time. After allowing a few moments for the usual expressions of dissent, I staggered up--stairs with Toddie in my arms, and Budge on my back, both boys roaring in refrain of the negro hymn:--

"I'm a rolling through an Unfriendly World."

The offer of a stick of candy to whichever boy was first undressed, caused some lively disrobing, after which each boy received the prize. Budge bit a large piece, wedged it between his cheek and his teeth, closed his eyes, folded his hands on his breast, and prayed:--

"Dear Lord, bless papa an' mamma, an' Toddie an' me, an' that turtle Uncle Harry found: and bless that lovely lady Uncle Harry goes riding with an' make 'em take me too, an' bless that nice old lady with white hair, that cried, and said I was a smart boy. Amen."

Toddie sighed as he drew his stick of candy from his lips; then he shut his eyes and remarked:

"Dee Lord, blesh Toddie, an' make him good boy, an' blesh zem ladies zat told me to say it aden;" the particular "it" referred to being well understood by at least three adults of my acquaintances.

The course of Budge's interview with Mrs. Mayton was afterward related by that lady, as follows:--She was sitting in her own room (which was on the parlor-floor, and in the rear of the house), and was leisurely reading "Fated to be Free," when she accidentally dropped her glasses. Stooping to pick them up, she became aware that she was not alone. A small, very dirty, but good-featured boy stood before her, his hands behind his back, and an inquiring look in his eyes.

"Run away, little boy," said she. "Don't you know it isn't polite to enter rooms without knocking?"

"I'm lookin' for my uncle," said Budge, in most melodious accents, "an' the other ladies said you would know when he would come back."

"I'm afraid they were making fun of you--or me," said the old lady, a little severely. "I don't know anything about little boys' uncles. Now run away, and don't disturb me any more."

"Well," continued Budge, "they said your little girl went with him, and you'd know when SHE would come back."

"I haven't any little girl," said the old lady, her indignation, at a supposed joke, threatening to overcome her dignity. "Now, go away."

"She isn't a VERY little girl," said Budge, honestly anxious to conciliate; "that is, she's bigger'n _I_ am, but they said you was her mother, an' so she's you're little girl, isn't she? _I_ think she's lovely, too."

"Do you mean Miss Mayton?" asked the lady, thinking she had a possible clue to the cause of Budge's anxiety.

"Oh, yes--that's her name--I couldn't think of it," eagerly replied Budge. "An' ain't she AWFUL nice?--_I_ KNOW she is!"

"Your judgment is quite correct, considering your age," said Mrs. Mayton, exhibiting more interest in Budge than she had heretofore done. "But what makes you think she is nice? You are rather younger than her male admirers usually are."

"Why, my Uncle Harry told me so," replied Budge, "an' HE knows EVERYthing."

Mrs. Mayton grew vigilant at once, and dropped her book.

"Who IS your Uncle Harry, little boy?"

"He's Uncle Harry; don't you know him? He can make nicer whistles than my papa can. An' he found a turtle--"

"Who is your papa?" interrupted the lady.

"Why, he's papa--I thought everybody knew who HE was."

"What is your name?" asked Mrs. Mayton.

"John Burton Lawrence," promptly answered Budge.

Mrs. Mayton wrinkled her brows for a moment, and finally asked:--

"Is Mr. Burton the uncle you are looking for?"

"I don't know any Mr. Burton," said Budge, a little dazed;