Michael O'Halloran — The Advent of Nancy and Peter
Mickey slowly walked to the gate.
When the woman came with a basket covered with a white cloth, he thanked her again; as he took it he rested his head against her arm, smiling up at her with his wide true eyes.
"A thing I can't understand is," he said, "why when the Lord was making mothers, he didn't cut all of them from the same piece he did you.
I'll just walk on down the road and smell June beside this clover field.
Is it yours?"
"Yes," she said.
"Would you care if I'd take just a few to Lily?
I know she never saw any."
"Take a bunch as big as your head if you want them."
"Lily is so little, three will do her just as well; besides, she's got to remember how we are fixed, so she needn't begin to expect things to come her way by baskets and bunches," said Mickey.
"She's bound to be spoiled bad enough as it is.
I can't see how I'm going to come out with her, but she's mine, and I'm going to keep her."
"Mickey," laughed the woman, "don't you think you swing around to Lily just about the way I do to Peter?"
"Well maybe I do," conceded Mickey.
"What kind of a car did you say Mr. Bruce has?"
"Oh the car is dark green, and the driver has sandy hair; and Mr. Bruce--why you'd know him anywhere!
Just look for the finest man you ever saw, if you are out when he goes by, and that will be Mr. Douglas Bruce."
"I guess I'll know him if I happen to be out."
"Sure lady, you couldn't miss him," replied Mickey.
Carefully holding his basket he went down the road.
The woman made supper an hour late standing beside the gate watching for a green car.
Many whirled past, then at last one with the right look came gliding along; so she stepped out and raised her hand for a parley.
The car stopped.
"Mr. Douglas Bruce?"
she asked.
"At your service, Madam!"
he answered.
"Just a word with you," she said.
He arose instantly, swung open the car door, and stepping down walked with her to the shade of a big widely branching maple.
The woman looked at him, and said flushing and half confused: "Please to excuse me for halting you, but I had a reason.
This afternoon such an attractive little fellow stopped here to ask for a drink in passing.
Now Peter and I had decided we'd try our hand at taking a city boy for a week or so for his vacation, and twice Peter has left his work and gone to the trolley station to fetch him, and he failed us.
I supposed Peter had missed him, so when I saw the boy coming, just the first glimpse my heart went right out to him----" "Very likely----" assented Mr. Bruce.
"He surely is the most winning little chap I ever saw with his keen blue eyes and that sort of light on his forehead," said the woman.
"I've noticed that," put in the man.
"Yes," she said, "anybody would see that almost the first thing.
So I thought he was the boy I was to mother coming, and I went right at the job.
He told me quick enough that I was mistaken, but I could see he was in trouble.
Someway I'd trust him with my character or my money, but I got to be perfectly sure before I trust him with my children.
You see I have three, and if ever any of them go wrong, I don't want it to be because I was _careless_.
I thought I'd like to have him around some; my oldest boy is bigger, but just about his age.
He said he might be out this way with you this summer and I wanted to ask him in, and do what I could to entertain him; but first I wanted to inquire of you----" "I see!"
said Douglas Bruce.
"I haven't known Mickey so long, but owing to the circumstances in which I met him, and the association with him since, I feel that I know him better than I could most boys in a longer time.
The strongest thing I can say to you is this: had I a boy of my own, I should be proud if Mickey liked him and would consider being friends with him.
He is absolutely trustworthy, that I know."
"Then I won't detain your further," she said.
Mickey, cheered in mind and heart, had walked ahead briskly with his basket, while as he went he formulated his plans.
He would go straight to the Sunshine Nurse, tell her about the heat and this possible chance to take Lily to the country for a week, and consult with her as to what the effect of the trip might be, and what he could do with her afterward, then he would understand better.
He kept watching the clover field beside the way.
When he decided he had reached the finest, best perfumed place, he saw a man plowing on the other side of the fence and thought it might be Peter and that Peter would wonder what he was doing in his field, so Mickey set the basket in a corner and advanced.
He was wonderfully elated by what had happened to him and the conclusions at which he had arrived, as he came across the deep grasses beside the fence where the pink of wild rose and the snow of alder commingled, where song sparrows trilled, and larks and quail were calling.
He approached smiling in utter confidence.
As he looked at the man, at his height, his strong open face, his grip on the plow, he realized why the world of the little woman revolved around Peter.
Mickey could have conceived of few happier fates than being attached to Peter, so he thought in amazement of the boy who wanted to leave him.
Then a slow grin spread over his face, for by this time Peter had stopped his horses and was awaiting him with an answering smile and hand outstretched.
"Why son, I'm glad to see you!"
he cried.
"How did I come to miss you?
Did you get off at the wrong stop?"
Mickey shook his head as he took the proffered hand.
"You are Peter?"
he asked.
"Yes, I'm Peter," confirmed the man.
"Well you're making the same mistake your pleasant lady did," explained Mickey.
"She thought I was the boy who had been sent to visit you, so she gave me the glad hand too.
I wish I was in his shoes!
But I'm not your boy.
Gee, your lady is a nice gentle lady."
"You're all correct there," agreed Peter.
"And so you are not the boy who was to be sent us.
Pshaw now!
I wish you were.
I'm disappointed.
I've been watching you coming down the road, and the way you held together and stepped up so brisk and neat took my eye."
"I been 'stepping up brisk and neat' to sell papers, run errands, hop cars, dodge cars and automobiles, and climbing fire-escapes instead of stairs, and keeping from under foot since I can remember," laughed Mickey.
"You learn on the streets of Multiopolis to step up, and watch sharp without knowing you are doing it."
"You're a newsboy?"
asked Peter.
"I was all my life 'til a few days ago," said Mickey.
"Then I went into the office of Mr. Douglas Bruce.
He's a corporation lawyer in the Iriquois Building."
"Hum, I've been reading about him," said Peter.
"If I ever have a case, I'm going to take it to him."
"Well you'll have a man that will hang on and dig in and _sweat_ for you," said Mickey.
"Just now he's after some of them big office-holders who are bleeding the taxpayers of Multiopolis.
Some of these days if you watch your _Herald_ sharp, you're going to see the lid fly off of two or three things at once.
He's on a hot trail now."
"Why I have seen that in the papers," said Peter.
"He was given the job of finding who is robbing the city, by James Minturn; I remember his name.
And you work for him?
Well, well!
Sit down here and tell me about it."
"I can't now," said Mickey.
"I must get back to the road.
His car may pass any minute, and I'm to be ready.
Your pleasant lady said I might take a few clover flowers to my little sick girl, and just as I came to the finest ones in the field, I saw you so I thought maybe I'd better tell you what I was doing before you fired me."
"Take all you want," said Peter.
"I'd like to send the whole field, larks and all, to a little sick girl.
I'd like especial to send her some of these clowny bobolink fellows to puff up and spill music by the quart for her; I guess nothing else runs so smooth except water."
"I don't know what she'd say," said Mickey gazing around him.
"You see she hasn't ever walked, so all she's seen in her life has been the worst kind of bare, dark tenement walls, 'til lately she's got a high window where she can see sky, and a few sparrows that come for crumbs.
This!"
--Mickey swept his arm toward the landscape--"I don't know what she'd say to this!"
"Pshaw, now!"
cried Peter.
"Why bring her out!
You bring her right out!
That's what we been wanting to know.
Just what a city child would _think_ of country things she'd never seen before.
Bring her to see us!"
"She's a little bit of a thing and she can't walk, you know," explained Mickey.
"Poor little mite!
That's too bad," lamented Peter.
"Wonder if she couldn't be doctored up.
It's a shame she can't walk, but taking care of her must be easy!"
"Oh she takes care of herself," said Mickey.
"You see she is alone all day from six 'til six; she must take care of herself, so she studies her lesson, and plays with her doll--I mean her Precious Child."
"Too bad!"
said Peter.
"By jacks that's a sin!
Did you happen to speak to Ma about her?"
"We did talk a little," admitted Mickey.
"She was telling me of the visitor boy who didn't come, and your son who doesn't think he'll want to stay; so we got to talking.
She said just what you did about wanting to see how a city child who hadn't ever seen a chicken, or a cow, or horse would act----" "Good Lord!"
cried Peter.
"_Is_ there a child in Multiopolis who hasn't ever seen a little chicken, or a calf?"
"Hundreds of them!"
said Mickey.
"I've scarcely seen a cow myself.
I've seen hens and little chickens in shop windows at Easter time----" "But not in the orchard in June?"
queried Peter.
"No, 'not in the orchard in June!'
" said Mickey.
"Well, well!"
marvelled Peter.
"There's nothing so true as that 'one half doesn't know how the other half lives.'
I've heard that, but I didn't quite sense it, and I don't know as I do yet.
You bring her right out!"
"Your pleasant lady talked about that; but you see bringing her out and showing her these things, and getting her used to them is _one_ thing;
then taking her back to a room so hot I always sleep on the fire-escape, and where she has to stay all day alone, is _another_.
I
don't know but so long as she must go _back_ to what she has now, it would be better to _leave_ her there."
"Humph!
I see!
What a pity!"
exclaimed Peter.
"Well, if you'll be coming this way again, stop and see us.
I'll talk to Ma about her.
We often take a little run to Multiopolis.
Junior wouldn't be satisfied till we got a car, and I can't say we ain't enjoying it ourselves.
What was that you were saying about my boy not thinking he'll stay?"
"_She_ told me," said Mickey, "about the city bug he had in his system.
Why don't you swat it immediate?"
"What do you mean?"
inquired Peter.
"Turn him over to me a week or two," suggested Mickey.
"I can give him a dose of working in a city that will send him hiking back to home and father."
"It's worth considering," said Peter.
"I know that what I got of Multiopolis would make me feel like von Hindenberg if I had the job of handling the ribbons of your creamery wagon; and so I know about what would put sonny back on the farm, tickled 'most to death to be here."
"By gum!
Well, I'll give you just one hundred dollars if you'll do it!"
exclaimed Peter.
"You see my grandfather and father owned this land before me.
We've been on the plowing job so long we have it reduced to a system, so it comes easy for me, and I take pride and pleasure in it;
I had supposed my boys would be the same.
Do you really think you could manage it?"
"Sure," said Mickey.
"Only, if you really mean it, not now, nor ever, do you want son to _know_ it.
See!
The medicine wouldn't work, if he knew he took it."
"Well I'll be jiggered!"
laughed Peter.
"I guess you could do it, if you went at it right."
"Well you trust me to do it right," grinned Mickey.
"Loan me sonny for a week or two, and you can have him back for keeps."
"Well it's worth trying," said Peter.
"Say, when will you be this way again?"
"'Most any day," said Mickey.
"And your lady said she'd be in Multiopolis soon, so we are sure to have a happy meeting before long.
I
think that is Mr. Bruce's car coming.
Goodbye!
Be good to yourself!"
With a spring from where he was standing Mickey arose in air, alighted on the top rail of the division fence, then balancing, he raced down it toward the road.
Peter watched him in astonishment, then went back to his plowing with many new things on his mind.
Thus it happened that after supper, when the children were in bed, and he and his wife went to the front veranda for their usual evening visit, and talk over the day, she had very little to tell him.
As was her custom, she removed her apron, brushed her waving hair and wore a fresh dress.
She rocked gently in her wicker chair, while her voice was moved to unusual solicitude as she spoke.
Peter also had performed a rite he spoke of as "brushing up" for evening.
He believed in the efficacy of soap and water, so his body, as well as his clothing, was clean.
He sat on the top step leaning against the pillar where the moonlight emphasized his big frame, accented the strong lines of his face and crowned his thick hair, as Nancy Harding thought it should be, with glory.
"Peter," she said, "did you notice anything about that boy, this afternoon, different from other boys?"
"Yes," answered Peter slowly, "I did Nancy.
He didn't strike me as being _one_ boy.
He has the best of three or four concealed in his lean person."
"He's had a pretty tough time, I judge," said Nancy.
"Yet you never saw a boy who took your heart like he did, and neither did I," answered Peter.
Mickey holding his basket and clover flowers was waiting when the car drew up, and to Bruce's inquiry answered that a lady where he stopped for a drink had given him something for Lily.
He left the car in the city, sought the nurse and luckily found her at leisure.
She listened with the greatest interest to all he had to say.
"It's a problem," she said, as he finished.
"To take her to such a place for a week, and then bring her back where she is, would be harder for her than never going."
"I got that figured," said Mickey; "but I've about made up my mind, after seeing the place and thinking over the folks, that it wouldn't _happen_ that way.
Once they see her, and find how little trouble she is, they're not people who would send her back 'til it's cool, if they'd want to then.
And there's this, too: there are other folks who would take her now, and see about her back.
Have I got the right to let it go a day, waiting to earn the money myself, when some one else, maybe the Moonshine Lady, or Mr. Bruce, would do it _now_, and not put her in an Orphings' Home, either?"
"No Mickey, you haven't!"
said the nurse.
"Just the way I have it figured," said Mickey.
"But she's mine, and I'm going to _keep_ her.
If her back is fixed, I'm going to have it done.
I
don't want any one else meddling with my family.
You haven't heard anything from the Carrel man yet?"
"No," she said.
"My, I wish he'd come!"
cried Mickey.
"So do I," said the nurse.
"But so far Mickey, I think you are doing all right.
If she must be operated, she'd have to be put in condition for it; and while I suspect I could beat you at your job, I am positive you are far surpassing what she did have."
"Well I know that too," said Mickey.
"But surpassing nothing at all isn't going either far or fast.
I must do something."
"If you could bring yourself to consent to giving her up----" suggested the nurse.
"Well I can't!"
interposed Mickey.
"Just for a while!"
continued the nurse.
"Not for a minute!
I found her!
She's mine!"
"Yes, I know; but----" began the nurse.
"I know too," said Mickey.
"Gimme a little time."
He studied the problem till he reached his grocery.
There he thriftily lifted the cloth to peep, and with a sigh of satisfaction pursued his way.
Presently he opened his door, to be struck by a wave of hot air and to note a flushed little face and drawn mouth as he went into Peaches' outstretched arms.
Then he delivered the carefully carried clover and the following: "_I got these from a big, pink field bewildering, That God made a-purpose for cows and childering.
Her share is being consumed by the cow, Let's go roll in ours right now.
_" "Again!"
demanded Peaches.
Mickey repeated slowly.
"How could we?"
asked Peaches.
"Easy!"
said Mickey.
"'Easy?'
" repeated Peaches.
"Just as easy!"
reiterated Mickey.
"Did you see it?"
demanded Peaches.
"Yes, I saw it to-day," said Mickey.
"It's like this: you see some folks live in houses all built together, and work at selling things to eat, and wear, and making things, and doing other work that must be done like doctors, and lawyers, and hospitals; _that's a city_.
Then to _feed them_, other folks live on big pieces of land; the houses are far apart, with streets between, and beside them the big fields where the wheat grows for our bread, and our potatoes, and the grass, and the clover like this to feed the cows.
To-day Mr. Bruce didn't play long, so I went walking and stopped at a house for a drink, and there was the nicest lady; we talked some and she give me our supper in that pretty basket; and she sent you the clovers from a big pink field so sweet smelly it would 'most make you sick; and there are trees through it, and lots of birds sing, and there are wild roses and fringy white flowers; and it's quiet 'cept the birds, and the roosters crowing, and the wind comes in little perfumery blows on you, and such milk!"
"Better 'an our milk?"
asked Peaches.
"Their milk is so rich it makes ours look like a poorhouse relation," scoffed Mickey.
"Tell me more," demanded Peaches.
"Wait 'til I get the water to wash you, you are so warm."
"Yes, it's getting some hot; but 'tain't nothing like on the rags last summer.
It's like a real lady here."
"A pretty warm lady, just the same," said Mickey.
Then he brought water and leaving the door ajar for the first time, he soon started a draft; that with the coming of cooler evening lowered the child's temperature, and made her hungry.
As he worked Mickey talked.
The grass, the blooming orchard, the hen and her little downy chickens, the big cool porch, the wonderful woman and man, the boy whom they expected and who did not come; and then cautiously, slowly, making sure she understood, he developed his plan to take her to the country.
Peaches drew back and opened her lips.
Mickey promptly laid the washcloth over them.
"Now don't begin to say you 'won't' like a silly baby," he said.
"Try it and see, then if you don't like it, you can come right back.
You want to ride in a grand automobile like a millyingaire lady, don't you?
All the swells go away to the country for the summer, you got to be a swell lady!
I ain't going to have you left way behind!"
"Mickey, would you be there?"
she asked.
"Yes lady, I'd be right on the job!"
said Mickey.
"I'd be there a lot more than I am here.
You go the week they wanted that boy, and he didn't come; then if you like it, I'll see if they won't board you, and you can have a nice little girl to play with, and a fat, real baby, and a boy bigger than me--and you should see Peter!"
Peaches opened her lips, Mickey reapplied the cloth.
"Calm down now!"
he ordered.
"I've decided to do it.
We got to hump ourselves.
This is our _chance_.
Why there's milk, and butter, and eggs, and things to eat there like you never tasted, and to have a cool breeze, and to lie on the grass----" "Oh Mickey, could I?"
cried Peaches.
"Sure silly!
Why not?"
said Mickey.
"There's big fields of it, and the cows don't need it all.
You can lie on the grass, or the clover, and hear the birds, and play with the children.
I'll take a day and get things started right before I leave you to come to work, like I'll have to.
When I come at night, I'll carry your outdoors; why I'll take you down to the water and you can kick your feet in it, where it's nice and warm; all the time you can have as many flowers as your hands will hold; and such bird singing, why Lily Peaches O'Halloran, there are birds as red as blood, yes ma'am, and yellow as orange peel and light blue like this ribbon and dark blue like that--hold still 'til I fix you--and such singing!"
"Mickey, would you hold me?"
wavered Peaches.
"Smash anybody that lays a finger on you, unless you say so," said Mickey promptly.
"And you'd stay a whole day?"
