Читать книгу The Black Creek Stopping-House and Other Stories - Nellie Letitia McClung - Страница 5

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When Reginald reached home he found his brother in a state of mind bordering on frenzy, but when he shoved the basket which Mrs. Corbett had filled for him toward Randolph with the unnecessary injunction to “stow it in his hold,” the lion’s mouth was effectively closed. When he had finished the last crumb Reginald told him Mrs. Corbett’s decree regarding Sunday work, and found that Randolph was prepared to abstain from all forms of labor on all days in the week if she wished it.

That night, after the twins had washed the accumulated stock of dishes, and put patches on their overalls with pieces of canvas and a sail needle, and performed the many little odd jobs which by all accepted rules of ethics belong to Sunday evening’s busy work, they sat beside the fire and indulged in great depression of spirits!

“She can’t live forever,” Reginald broke out at last with apparent irrelevance. But there was no irrelevance—his remark was perfectly in order.

He was referring to a dear aunt in Bournemouth. This lady, who was possessed of “funds,” had once told her loving nephews—the twins—that if they would go away and stay away she might—do something for them—by and by. She had urged them so strongly to go to Canada that they could not, under the circumstances, do otherwise. Aunt Patience Brydon shared the delusion that is so blissfully prevalent among parents and guardians of wayward youth in England, that to send them to Canada will work a complete reformation, believing that Canada is a good, kind wilderness where iced tea is the strongest drink known, and where no more exciting game than draughts is ever played.

Aunt Patience, though a frail-looking little white-haired lady, had, it seemed, a wonderful tenacity of life.

“She’ll slip her cable some day,” Reginald declared soothingly. “She can’t hold out much longer—you know the last letter said she was failin’ fast.”

“Failin’ fast!” Randolph broke in impatiently. “It’s us that’s failin’ fast! And maybe when we’ve waited and waited, and stayed away for ’er, she’ll go and leave it all to some Old Cats’ ’Ome or Old Hens’ Roost, or some other beastly charity. I don’t trust ’er—’any woman that ’olds on to life the way she does—’er with one foot in the grave, and ’er will all made and everything ready.”

“Well, she can’t last always,” Reginald declared, holding firmly to this one bit of comfort.

The next news they got from Bournemouth was positively alarming! She was getting better. Then the twins lost hope entirely and decided to treat Aunt Patience as one already dead—figuratively speaking, to turn her picture to the wall.

“Let her live as long as she likes,” Reginald declared, “if she’s so jolly keen on it!”

When they decided to trust no more to the deceitfulness of woman they turned to another quarter for help, for they were, at this time, “uncommonly low in funds.”

It was Randolph who got the idea, one day when he was sitting on the plow handle lighting his pipe.

“Wot’s the matter with us gettin’ out Fred for our farm pupil? He’s got some money—they say he married a rich man’s daughter—and we’ve got the experience!”

“He’s only a ’alf-brother!” said Reginald, at last, reflectively.

“That don’t matter one bit to me,” declared Randolph, generously, “I’ll treat him just the same as I would you!”

Reginald shrugged his shoulders eloquently.

“What about his missus?” asked Reginald, after a silence.

“She can come,” Randolph said, magnanimously. “We’ll build a piece to the house.”

The more they talked about it the more enthusiastic they became. Under the glow of this new project they felt they could hurl contempt on Aunt Patience and her unnatural hold on life.

“I don’t know but what I would rather take ’elp from the livin’ than the dead, anyway,” Reginald said, virtuously, that night before they went to bed.

“They’re more h’apt to ask it back, just the same,” objected Randolph.

“I was just goin’ to say,” Reginald began again, “that I’d just as soon take ’elp from the livin’ as the dead, especially when there ain’t no dead!”

They began at once to write letters to their long-neglected brother Fred, enthusiastically setting forth the charms of this new country. They dwelt on the freedom of the life, the abundance of game, and the view! They made a great deal of the view, and certainly there was nothing to obstruct it, for the prairie lay a dead level for ten miles north of them, only dotted here and there with little weather-bleached warts of houses like their own, where other optimists were trying to make a dint in the monotony.

The letters which went east every mail were splendid productions in their way, written with ease and eloquence, and utterly untrammeled by any regard for facts.

Their brother responded just as they hoped he would, and the twins were greatly delighted with the success of their plan.

Events of which the twins knew nothing favored their project and made Fred and his wife glad to leave Toronto. Evelyn Grant had bitterly estranged her father by marrying against his wishes. So the proposal from Randolph and Reginald that they come West and take the homestead near them seemed to offer an escape from much that was unpleasant. Besides, it was just at the time when so many people were hearing the call of the West.

At the suggestion of his brothers, Fred sent in advance the money to build a house on his homestead. But the twins, not wishing to make any mistake, or to have any misunderstanding with Fred, built it right beside their own. Fred sent enough money to have a frame building put up but the twins decided that logs were more romantic and cheaper. It was a remarkable structure when they were through with it, stuck against their own house, as if by accident, and resembling in its irregularity the growth of a freak potato. Cables were freely used; binder twine served as hinges on the doors and also as latches.

They gave as a reason for sticking the new part against their own irregularly that they intended to use the alcoves for verandahs!

They agreed to put in Fred’s crop for him—for a consideration; to put up hay; to buy oxen. Indeed, so many kindly offices did they agree to perform for him that Fred had advanced them, in all, nearly two thousand dollars.

The preparations were watched with great interest by the neighbors, and the probable outcome of it all was often a topic of conversation at the Black Creek Stopping-House.