The Gold Brick Part 54

"Thank you, madame," Paul said, touched, as he always was, by any evidence of kindness. "I like you very much, very much."

Mrs. Prior was not half way down-stairs before Paul was quietly asleep.

Fatigue kept him from dwelling upon this new change. Indeed, he had grown so accustomed to removals and strangers that he received them with very different feelings from those which would formerly have troubled him.

CHAPTER XLVI.

JUBE FINDS HIS WAY TO BAYS HOLLOW.

The next morning, while Paul and Rose were playing in the dining-room--the little girl having been granted a holiday on account of the boy's arrival--there arose in the kitchen a sudden commotion, which attracted Mrs. Prior's attention. She went out, and found her little handmaiden in conversation with an immense negro, who looked so good-natured and anxious, that it was a wonder he could have frightened anybody, although the girl appeared somewhat inclined to run away.

When Mrs. Prior entered, the man turned toward her with a ponderous bow.

"What do you want, my good man?" she asked, gently.

"My young ma.s.ser is here," Jube said, with another salute.

"Your young master?"

"Yes; Ma.s.ser Paul."

"Are you his servant?"

"Yes, if madame pleases. Jube came with him from the old home, saw the mistress buried, and has been wandering about with little ma.s.ser ever since."

"He told me about you," said Mrs. Prior.

"Yes, madame. So when madame sent ma.s.ser away, Jube meant to stay there and take care of the house. But Jube would have died--came after little ma.s.ser. Please take me, madame. Jube can work; he'll do any thing, big, big, strong."

He extended his stalwart arms as a proof of his words, and Mrs. Prior was touched by his earnestness.

"We have no need of any more help," she said.

"Oh, yes; Jube be great help--jis take me, madame, you see--no be sorry, no indeed."

"I would willingly, for the child's sake, but we are not rich; my husband could not afford to pay you wages."

"Jube not want wages--no good of money. Please let Jube stay, lady."

Mrs. Prior went up to the study to hold a private consultation with her husband; while she was gone, Paul and Rose pa.s.sed through the kitchen.

At the sight of the negro, the boy gave a cry of delight, and rushed into his arms, with a burst of tears and wild e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.ns. Jube sobbed aloud, and it was some time before either of them could in the least recover their composure.

Rose stood looking at them in great astonishment; but when Paul managed to explain that this was the Jube of whom he had told her, she cried and laughed also, from pure sympathy, while the handmaiden worked herself into such a state of bewilderment that she laid the forks where the spoons belonged, put an empty tin pan into the oven, instead of the pudding, which was ready for baking, and performed a variety of other wonderful feats, which brought great disgrace upon her shortly after.

When Mrs. Prior and the clergyman came down-stairs, they found Paul nestled close to his old friend, and looking so happy that the very idea of refusing the negro's request sent a pang to their hearts.

"Jube must stay," Paul cried, in his exquisitely persuasive way; "please to say yes, good madame--shan't he stay, sir?"

The clergyman looked at his wife, and she looked back at him; both were extremely perplexed.

"Jube no want wages," said the negro, "only wants to live near little ma.s.ser."

"Yes, that is all," added Paul.

"We certainly cannot have the man," Mrs. Prior said to her husband.

"That is out of the question," he replied.

"But what can we do?"

"Settle it yourself, Mrs. Prior; your decision is sure to be a correct and wise one."

With these complimentary words, the minister helped himself out of his difficulty by leaving the room.

Mrs. Prior looked at the friends in great trouble; but little Paul approached her chair and put his arms about her neck; Rose clung to her hand and added her entreaties; while Jube gazed at her with his great, honest eyes.

The result of all this affair was, that Jube insisted on making himself so agreeable, and began at once to demonstrate his powers of usefulness so acceptably that there was really no turning him out of doors.

The good fellow had some mechanical genius, and exerted it to the delight of little Rose in furnis.h.i.+ng her play-house, and building sleds and wagons for Paul, large enough for her to ride in. Then, Jube made such a splendid horse, and never got tired of carrying her or drawing the little sled on which she rode. When she expressed a wish to ride on horseback, Jube lifted her to his broad shoulders, or put out his foot, which instantly swung itself into full canter, and away she went, rus.h.i.+ng off to "Canterbury Cross" in high glee.

To Mrs. Prior, both Jube and his little master were objects of peculiar interest. Paul was eloquent in his own language, and through its medium he conveyed many pleasant fancies to the mind of Rose, and thus, all in play, brought her through the first practice of a study her mother had greatly at heart.

As the winter snows melted, and the sweet spring days came on, it was pleasant to see Jube seated with the children--at heart, almost as much of a child as either of them--beneath a huge apple tree that stood in the meadow, and covered one of the most lovely strawberry slopes in the world with its shadow.

As the bright days came on, the favor of instruction was not altogether on one side. Rose had her own little accomplishments, which she taught in shy triumph in exchange for the sweet language and pretty names bestowed on her. She taught Paul how to curl dandelion stems into innumerable ringlets, and made an astonis.h.i.+ng halter of daisy chains for Jube, that was not the less perfect because it broke into a shower of white blossoms at the first hard pull, and littered the gra.s.s like a snow-storm. Then she could braid rushes seven strands at a time, and weave them into such pretty green baskets that Mrs. Prior considered them the pet ornaments of her parlor.

Besides these accomplishments, Rose had a delicious voice, and sung s.n.a.t.c.hes of music at her work. These wild strains so excited the robins in the apple tree boughs that they forgot nest-building and love-making, to join in a chorus that rang all over the meadow, bringing other birds to see what it was all about, who liked the premises, and built their nests also among the sweet blossoms and leaves of dainty green, till the old tree was a marvel for its feathered population.

I am afraid Rose sometimes followed Paul up into the apple tree, taking shy peeps at the pretty blue eggs which he exposed by sweeping the soft leaves back from the nest with his hands. Once or twice Mrs. Prior found her in a corner of the garret, making desperate efforts to darn a long rent in her dress, and crying bitterly because the cloth would draw into knots and gathers under her hand, more conspicuous than the original tear had been, which must have strengthened this suspicion about the apple tree very much.

Of course the good lady remedied this evil with her own deft little fingers, and Mrs. Mason was too busy with other things just then to heed torn frocks or the shamefacedness which on ordinary occasions would have betrayed them.

Thus time wore on, till Mrs. Mason had become a das.h.i.+ng performer on the piano, for she practiced day and night on the accomplishments that she willed to master, and in every thing made up for deficiencies by audacious self-possession. Thus, while Rose and the birds were singing out of doors, she sent a storm of music through the open windows, which were just far enough from the apple tree to excite the birds without frightening them to death.

CHAPTER XLVII.

A CHILDISH CONSULTATION.

The life which these children and their companion led at Bays Hollow was quiet and peaceful, especially to those strange beings, after the privations and bitter troubles through which they had pa.s.sed. The mournful look that had seemed natural to Paul, went out from his eyes, which grew soft or bright with changing feelings, but the haggard anguish which had made their glance so painfully sad, never came back to them. As for Jube, he was like a Newfoundland dog--full of courage, strength, and cheerfulness.