Ben Pepper Part 29

"Matthew read that," said Matilda, sourly.

"You stop," said Mark, without looking at her; "I'm reading this to Mammy. 'Mrs. Hansell, I remember you did my was.h.i.+ng last summer.'"

"Hoh! He ain't readin'; he's only sayin' what Matthew read, Mammy.

Mammy, Matthew's read all that." Matilda got up to her knees and hugged her mother around the throat.

"Sit down," said Mrs. Hansell. The conviction that she really had a box had been slow in growing, but now that she was sure of it, it was quite time to set up authority equal to such magnificence.

Matilda slid down meekly, her arms falling away in amazement to her lap.

"'You a-p-p-e-a-r-e-d--'" Mark stuck fast on the word that had floored Matthew, and helplessly shook his head.

"What is it?" demanded his mother. Since she really had a letter, she was going to have every word of it.

So Mark began again, but it was no use. Flounder and guess as he might, it was impossible to say what that dreadful a.s.sortment of letters might mean.

"Oh, well, if you can't read it, Mark," said Mrs. Hansell, coolly, "I must get some one who can."

"Let me try, Mammy, let me," begged Matilda, with two eager little hands thrust out.

"I can read the next words," declared Mark, hanging on to the letter like grim death.

"No, the next ones won't do. I must have the whole of the letter," said Mrs. Hansell, with great dignity. "Yes, you can try now, Matilda," and she picked the sheet from Mark's hand, to be hungrily seized by Matilda.

"She can't read any better'n a pig," said Mark in great scorn. "Now, what is it, Matilda Hansell?"

Matilda turned her shoulders on him, and spelled backward and forward, up and down, with the greatest vigor, but all to no purpose. Her face was red as fire, and she had all she could do to keep from crying, but still she struggled on.

"No, that won't do. You can't read it either," said Mrs. Hansell at length, in the midst of Mark's "What did I tell you, Mammy? Ho! Ho!"

"Now, children, it's just this way," she continued, "some one has got to read that letter, 'cause it explains th' whole thing,--th' box an'

all,--so one of you may take it down to the minister an' ask him to please read it for me."

"Oh, let me, Mammy, let me," cried Matilda, seizing her mother's arm.

"No, me; I'm goin'; I'm the biggest," said Mark, having no relish that Matilda should see the inside of the parson's house before he did.

Besides, on that important errand!

"Yes, I'm not sure but you ought to go, seem' Matthew ain't here," said Mrs. Hansell.

"O dear!" Matilda flung herself flat on the floor with such wails that Susan crept up, her mouth full of chewed paper, to see what it was all about.

"Hush making such a noise! Well, you may go, too," said their mother.

"Oh, mercy me, what you been a-eatin', Susan? Spit it right out this minute," as she gathered her up in her arms.

"An' I'm a-goin' to carry th' letter," declared Matilda, racing up with her tattered old hood and the remnant of a black cloak, "so there!"

bobbing her head at Mark.

"No such thing. I shall carry it; I'm the biggest," said Mark, decidedly.

"So you always say," cried Matilda, fretfully, and taking out a pin from her mouth, she brought the two sides of the hood together in a fas.h.i.+on that kept it on at least.

"Well, an' I am," said Mark, "so I always shall say it."

"Mammy, can't I carry the letter part way to the minister's?" begged Matilda, running over to her mother.

"You're not goin' to," declared Mark, stiffly, and marching off to the door.

"What is it?" asked Mrs. Hansell, poking out with her finger the chewed wads of paper that appeared to be the last packed away in Susan's mouth.

"Dear me, it's a wonder you ain't choked to death. What'd you say? Oh, yes, you may carry it part way. There, there!" as she set the squirming baby straight on her lap.

"There, Mammy says I can," Matilda shouted triumphantly, and spinning around on one set of toes, till the old hood slipped away from the pin and fell to the floor.

"Did you, Mammy?" cried Mark, running back to Mrs. Hansell.

"Did I what?" asked his mother. "Dear me, I wonder how much this child has swallowed."

"Say Matilda could carry the letter part way?"

"Yes, I did. Now hurry along an' behave, both of you. An' be quick, or I'll send Jane after all, and keep you to home."

This would be so much worse than giving up the letter for half the distance, that Mark took himself off without delay. Matilda scuttled after and slammed the old door as tight as it would shut.

It was certainly an hour by the old clock that wheezed crazily in the corner, and struck whatever time it chose, when steps were heard coming up the frozen path. The door burst open, and in rushed Matilda and Mark, and after them, at a slower pace, as befitted his calling, Mr. St. John, the minister of the mountain parish. The rest of the family sat in gloomy or impatient silence around the big box. All but Matthew; he was radiant in an overcoat, that, had anybody attempted to fit to him, certainly couldn't have been more of a success. And all around his neck was tied a thick, red woollen tippet that seemed to possess no end, so much was left that was wound generously around his head. He was strutting up and down the old kitchen floor, patting his s.h.a.ggy sleeves, and feeling the thickness of the overcoat skirts, and saying "Ah!" in a tone of the greatest satisfaction.

Luke, unable to take his eyes from him, followed every movement silently, while Elvira, nearly bursting with impatience, sat on the floor, alternately drumming on the side of the big box and bullying Jane, when unfortunate enough to get in her way.

"There! Now let's open the bundles," screamed Elvira, hopping to her feet. "Mark and Tilly have come!"

"For shame, Elviry," reproved her mother, sharply, who now came in from the bedroom, after seeing that Susan was really asleep, and not in convulsions over a diet of paper wads. "Can't you see the minister comin'? Oh, good day, sir!" She dropped him what was meant for a courtesy, and, wiping off a chair with her blue checked ap.r.o.n, she looked around on all her little group for their best behavior.

"I thought it better to come myself, my good woman," said the minister.

He was quite young, this being his first parish, and only regarded as a sort of missionary effort to get his hand in after the theological seminary. "Ah--I quite forget your name, madam, as you are so seldom at church."

"Hansell, sir," said the little widow, with another effort at a courtesy. "An' I live so far, sir, from the church, it's not easy gettin' there, if you please." She did not add, "And how can I, without anything to wear?"

"Ah, yes, no doubt," answered the Rev. Mr. St. John, rea.s.suringly.

"Well, I considered it best to come and read the letter to you myself, as it contains important directions. I will do so now," and he spread it open on one hand, all the family coming up, even Matthew, losing sight for a moment of his new splendor.

"'Mrs. Hansell,'" read the minister, clearing his throat, "'I remember you did my was.h.i.+ng last summer. You appeared to have a great many children, so I thought I would send you a box. Some of the articles are selected with reference to the ages of the members of your family. For instance, the overcoat and the red tippet are for your biggest boy.'"

"I know it," cried Matthew, unable to keep still, and beginning to strut again. "I've got it on."

The minister looked and nodded at him. This unloosed Matthew's tongue, who, before that, had been afraid of him. "I tell you what, it's bully!"

he declared, peering out from the folds of the red tippet; "an' this, too," patting his head.

"So 'tis," said the Rev. Mr. St. John, with a little laugh.

"'There are some jackets and trousers for the other boys.'"