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VIII. Green Island.
ONE morning,
very early, I heard Mrs. Todd in the garden outside my window. By the unusual
loudness of her remarks to a passer-by, and the notes of a familiar hymn which
she sang as she worked among the herbs, and which came as if directed purposely
to the sleepy ears of my consciousness, I knew that she wished I would wake up
and come and speak to her. In a few
minutes she responded to a morning voice from behind the blinds. "I expect
you're goin' up to your schoolhouse to pass all this pleasant day; yes, I
expect you're goin' to be dreadful busy," she said despairingly. "Perhaps
not," said I. "Why, what's going to be the matter with you, Mrs.
Todd?" For I supposed that she was tempted by the fine weather to take one
of her favorite expeditions along the shore pastures to gather herbs and
simples, and would like to have me keep the house. "No, I
don't want to go nowhere by land," she answered gayly, — "no, not by
land; but I don't know's we shall have a better day all the rest of the summer
to go out to Green Island an' see mother. I waked up early thinkin' of her. The
wind's light northeast, — 'twill take us right straight out, an' this time o'
year it's liable to change round southwest an' fetch us home pretty, 'long late
in the afternoon. Yes, it's goin' to be a good day." "Speak
to the captain and the Bowden boy, if you see anybody going by toward the
landing," said I. "We'll take the big boat." "Oh, my
sakes! now you let me do things my way," said Mrs. Todd scornfully.
"No, dear, we won't take no big bo't. I'll just git a handy dory, an'
Johnny Bowden an' me, we'll man her ourselves. I don't want no abler bo't than
a good dory, an' a nice light breeze ain't goin' to make no sea; an' Johnny's
my cousin's son, — mother'll like to have him come; an' he'll be down to the
herrin' weirs all the time we're there, anyway; we don't want to carry no men
folks havin' to be considered every minute an' takin' up all our time. No, you
let me do; we'll just slip out an' see mother by ourselves. I guess what
breakfast you'll want's about ready now." I had become
well acquainted with Mrs. Todd as landlady, herb-gatherer, and rustic
philosopher; we had been discreet fellow-passengers once or twice when I had
sailed up the coast to a larger town than Dunnet Landing to do some shopping;
but I was yet to become acquainted with her as a mariner. An hour later we
pushed off from the landing in the desired dory. The tide was just on the turn,
beginning to fall, and several friends and acquaintances stood along the side
of the dilapidated wharf and cheered us by their words and evident interest.
Johnny Bowden and I were both rowing in haste to get out where we could catch
the breeze and put up the small sail which lay clumsily furled along the
gunwale. Mrs. Todd sat aft, a stern and unbending lawgiver. "You
better let her drift; we'll get there 'bout as quick; the tide'll take her
right out from under these old buildin's; there's plenty wind outside." "Your
bo't ain't trimmed proper, Mis' Todd!" exclaimed a voice from shore.
"You're lo'ded so the bo't'll drag; you can't git her before the wind,
ma'am. You set 'midships, Mis' Todd, an' let the boy hold the sheet 'n' steer
after he gits the sail up; you won't never git out to Green Island that way.
She's lo'ded bad, your bo't is, — she's heavy behind's she is now!" Mrs. Todd
turned with some difficulty and regarded the anxious adviser, my right oar flew
out of water, and we seemed about to capsize. "That you, Asa?
Good-mornin'," she said politely. "I al'ays liked the starn seat best.
When'd you git back from up country?" This allusion
to Asa's origin was not lost upon the rest of the company. We were some little
distance from shore, but we could hear a chuckle of laughter, and Asa, a person
who was too ready with his criticism and advice on every possible subject,
turned and walked indignantly away. When we
caught the wind we were soon on our seaward course, and only stopped to
underrun a trawl, for the floats of which Mrs. Todd looked earnestly,
explaining that her mother might not be prepared for three extra to dinner; it
was her brother's trawl, and she meant to just run her eye along for the right
sort of a little haddock. I leaned over the boat's side with great interest and
excitement, while she skillfully handled the long line of hooks, and made
scornful remarks upon worthless, bait-consuming creatures of the sea as she
reviewed them and left them on the trawl or shook them off into the waves. At
last we came to what she pronounced a proper haddock, and having taken him on board
and ended his life resolutely, we went our way. As we sailed
along I listened to an increasingly delightful commentary upon the islands,
some of them barren rocks, or at best giving sparse pasturage for sheep in the
early summer. On one of these an eager little flock ran to the water's edge and
bleated at us so affectingly that I would willingly have stopped; but Mrs. Todd
steered away from the rocks, and scolded at the sheep's mean owner, an
acquaintance of hers, who grudged the little salt and still less care which the
patient creatures needed. The hot midsummer sun makes prisons of these small
islands that are a paradise in early June, with their cool springs and short
thick-growing grass. On a larger island, farther out to sea, my entertaining
companion showed me with glee the small houses of two farmers who shared the
island between them, and declared that for three generations the people had not
spoken to each other even in times of sickness or death or birth. "When
the news come that the war was over, one of 'em knew it a week, and never
stepped across his wall to tell the other," she said. "There, they
enjoy it; they've got to have somethin' to interest 'em in such a place; 'tis a
good deal more tryin' to be tied to folks you don't like than 'tis to be alone.
Each of 'em tell the neighbors their wrongs; plenty likes to hear and tell
again; them as fetch a bone'll carry one, an' so they keep the fight a-goin'. I
must say I like variety myself; some folks washes Monday an' irons Tuesday the
whole year round, even if the circus is goin' by!" A long time
before we landed at Green Island we could see the small white house, standing
high like a beacon, where Mrs. Todd was born and where her mother lived, on a
green slope above the water, with dark spruce woods still higher. There were
crops in the fields, which we presently distinguished from one another. Mrs.
Todd examined them while we were still far at sea. "Mother's late potatoes
looks backward; ain't had rain enough so far," she pronounced her opinion.
"They look weedier than what they call Front Street down to Cowper Centre.
I expect brother William is so occupied with his herrin' weirs an' servin' out
bait to the schooners that he don't think once a day of the land." "What's
the flag for, up above the spruces there behind the house?" I inquired,
with eagerness. "Oh,
that's the sign for herrin'," she explained kindly, while Johnny Bowden
regarded me with contemptuous surprise. "When they get enough for
schooners they raise that flag; an' when 'tis a poor catch in the weir pocket
they just fly a little signal down by the shore, an' then the small bo'ts comes
and get enough an' over for their trawls. There, look! there she is: mother
sees us; she's wavin' somethin' out o' the fore door! She'll be to the
landin'-place quick's we are." I looked, and
could see a tiny flutter in the doorway, but a quicker signal had made its way
from the heart on shore to the heart on the sea. "How do
you suppose she knows it is me?" said Mrs. Todd, with a tender smile on
her broad face. "There, you never get over bein' a child long's you have a
mother to go to. Look at the chimney, now; she's gone right in an' brightened
up the fire. Well, there, I'm glad mother's well; you'll enjoy seein' her very
much." Mrs. Todd
leaned back into her proper position, and the boat trimmed again. She took a
firmer grasp of the sheet, and gave an impatient look up at the gaff and the
leech of the little sail, and twitched the sheet as if she urged the wind like
a horse. There came at once a fresh gust, and we seemed to have doubled our
speed. Soon we were near enough to see a tiny figure with handkerchiefed head
come down across the field and stand waiting for us at the cove above a curve
of pebble beach. Presently the
dory grated on the pebbles, and Johnny Bowden, who had been kept in abeyance
during the voyage, sprang out and used manful exertions to haul us up with the
next wave, so that Mrs. Todd could make a dry landing. "You don
that very well," she said, mounting to her feet, and coming ashore
somewhat stiffly, but with great dignity, refusing our outstretched hands, and
returning to possess herself of a bag which had lain at her feet. "Well,
mother, here I be!" she announced with indifference; but they stood and
beamed in each other's faces. "Lookin'
pretty well for an old lady, ain't she?" said Mrs. Todd's mother, turning
away from her daughter to speak to me. She was a delightful little person
herself, with bright eyes and an affectionate air of expectation like a child
on a holiday. You felt as if Mrs. Blackett were an old and dear friend before
you let go her cordial hand. We all started together up the hill. "Now
don't you haste too fast, mother," said Mrs. Todd warningly; "'tis a
far reach o' risin' ground to the fore door, and you won't set an' get your
breath when you're once there, but go trotting about. Now don't you go a mite
faster than we proceed with this bag an' basket. Johnny, there, 'll fetch up
the haddock. I just made one stop to underrun William's trawl till I come to
jes' such a fish's I thought you'd want to make one o' your nice chowders of.
I've brought an onion with me that was layin' about on the window-sill at home."
"That's
just what I was wantin'," said the hostess. "I give a sigh when you
spoke o' chowder, knowin' my onions was out. William forgot to replenish us
last time he was to the Landin'. Don't you haste so yourself Almiry, up this
risin' ground. I hear you commencin' to wheeze a'ready." This mild
revenge seemed to afford great pleasure to both giver and receiver. They
laughed a little, and looked at each other affectionately, and then at me. Mrs.
Todd considerately paused, and faced about to regard the wide sea view. I was
glad to stop, being more out of breath than either of my companions, and I
prolonged the halt by asking the names of the neighboring islands. There was a
fine breeze blowing, which we felt more there on the high land than when we were
running before it in the dory. "Why,
this ain't that kitten I saw when I was out last, the one that I said didn't
appear likely?" exclaimed Mrs. Todd as we went our way. "That's
the one, Almiry," said her mother. "She always had a likely look to
me, an' she's right after business. I never see such a mouser for one of her
age. If't wan't for William, I never should have housed that other dronin' old
thing so long; but he sets by her on account of her havin' a bob tail. I don't
deem it advisable to maintain cats just on account of their havin' bob tails;
they're like all other curiosities, good for them that wants to see 'm twice.
This kitten catches mice for both, an' keeps me respectable as I ain't been for
a year. She's a real understandin' little help, this kitten is. I picked her
from among five Miss Augusta Pernell had over to Burnt Island," said the
old woman, trudging along with the kitten close at her skirts. "Augusta,
she says to me, 'Why, Mis' Blackett, you've took and homeliest;' and, says I, 'I've
got the smartest; I'm satisfied.'" "I'd
trust nobody sooner'n you to pick out a kitten, mother," said the daughter
handsomely, and we went on in peace and harmony. The house was
just before us now, on a green level that looked as if a huge hand had scooped
it out of the long green field we had been ascending. A little way above, the
dark, spruce woods began to climb the top of the hill and cover the seaward
slopes of the island. There was just room for the small farm and the forest; we
looked down at the fish-house and its rough sheds, and the weirs stretching far
out into the water. As we looked upward, the tops of the firs came sharp
against the blue sky. There was a great stretch of rough pasture-land round the
shoulder of the island to the eastward, and here were all the thick-scattered
gray rocks that kept their places, and the gray backs of many sheep that
forever wandered and fed on the thin sweet pasturage that fringed the ledges
and made soft hollows and strips of green turf like growing velvet. I could see
the rich green of bayberry bushes here and there, where the rocks made room.
The air was very sweet; one could not help wishing to be a citizen of such a
complete and tiny continent and home of fisherfolk. The house was
broad and clean, with a roof that looked heavy on its low walls. It was one of
the houses that seem firm-rooted in the ground, as if they were two-thirds
below the surface, like icebergs. The front door stood hospitably open in
expectation of company, and an orderly vine grew at each side; but our path led
to the kitchen door at the house-end, and there grew a mass of gay flowers and
greenery, as if they had been swept together by some diligent garden broom into
a tangled heap: there were portulacas all along under the lower step and
straggling off into the grass, and clustering mallows that crept as near as
they dared, like poor relations. I saw the bright eyes and brainless little
heads of two half-grown chickens who were snuggled down among the mallows as if
they had been chased away from the door more than once, and expected to be
again. "It
seems kind o' formal comin' in this way," said Mrs. Todd impulsively, as
we passed the flowers and came to the front doorstep; but she was mindful of
the proprieties, and walked before us into the best room on the left. "Why,
mother, if you haven't gone an' turned the carpet!" she exclaimed, with
something in her voice that spoke of awe and admiration. "When'd you get
to it? I s'pose Mis' Addicks come over an' helped you, from White Island
Landing?" "No, she
didn't," answered the old woman, standing proudly erect, and making the
most of a great moment. "I done it all myself with William's help. He had
a spare day, an' took right holt with me; an' 'twas all well beat on the grass,
an' turned, an' put down again afore we went to bed. I ripped an' sewed over
two o' them long breadths. I ain't had such a good night's sleep for two
years." "There,
what do you think o' havin' such a mother as that for eighty-six year
old?" said Mrs. Todd, standing before us like a large figure of Victory. As for the
mother, she took on a sudden look of youth; you felt as if she promised a great
future, and was beginning, not ending, her summers and their happy toils. "My,
my!" exclaimed Mrs. Todd. "I couldn't ha' done it myself, I've got to
own it." "I was
much pleased to have it off my mind," said Mrs. Blackett, humbly;
"the more so because along at the first of the next week I wasn't very
well. I suppose it may have been the change of weather." Mrs. Todd could
not resist a significant glance at me, but, with charming sympathy, she forbore
to point the lesson or to connect this illness with its apparent cause. She
loomed larger than ever in the little old-fashioned best room, with its few
pieces of good furniture and pictures of national interest. The green paper
curtains were stamped with conventional landscapes of a foreign order, —
castles on inaccessible crags, and lovely lakes with steep wooded shores;
under-foot the treasured carpet was covered thick with home-made rugs. There
were empty glass lamps and crystallized bouquets of grass and some fine shells
on the narrow mantelpiece. "I was
married in this room," said Mrs. Todd unexpectedly; and I heard her give a
sigh after she had spoken, as if she could not help the touch of regret that
would forever come with all her thoughts of happiness. "We
stood right there between the windows," she added, "and the minister
stood here. William wouldn't come in. He was always odd about seein' folks,
just's he is now. I run to meet 'em from a child, an' William, he'd take an'
run away." "I've
been the gainer," said the old mother cheerfully. "William has been
son an' daughter both since you was married off the island. He's been 'most too
satisfied to stop at home 'long o' his old mother, but I always tell 'em I'm
the gainer." We were all
moving toward the kitchen as if by common instinct. The best room was too
suggestive of serious occasions, and the shades were all pulled down to shut
out the summer light and air. It was indeed a tribute to Society to find a room
set apart for her behests out there on so apparently neighborless and remote an
island. Afternoon visits and evening festivals must be few in such a bleak
situation at certain seasons of the year, but Mrs. Blackett was of those who do
not live to themselves, and who have long since passed the line that divides
mere self-concern from a valued share in whatever Society can give and take.
There were those of her neighbors who never had taken the trouble to furnish a
best room, but Mrs. Blackett was one who knew the uses of a parlor. "Yes, do
come right out into the old kitchen; I shan't make any stranger of you,"
she invited us pleasantly, after we had been properly received in the room
appointed to formality. "I expect Almiry, here, 'll be driftin' out
'mongst the pasture-weeds quick's she can find a good excuse. 'Tis hot now.
You'd better content yourselves till you get nice an' rested, an' 'long after
dinner the sea-breeze 'll spring up, an' then you can take your walks, an' go
up an' see the prospect from the big ledge. Almiry'll want to show off
everything there is. Then I'll get you a good cup o' tea before you start to go
home. The days are plenty long now." While we were
talking in the best room the selected fish had been mysteriously brought up
from the shore, and lay all cleaned and ready in an earthen crock on the table.
"I think
William might have just stopped an' said a word," remarked Mrs. Todd,
pouting with high affront as she caught sight of it. "He's friendly enough
when he comes ashore, an' was remarkable social the last time, for him." "He
ain't disposed to be very social with the ladies," explained William's
mother, with a delightful glance at me, as if she counted upon my friendship
and tolerance. "He's very particular, and he's all in his old
fishin'-clothes to-day. He'll want me to tell him everything you said and done,
after you've gone. William has very deep affections. He'll want to see you,
Almiry. Yes, I guess he'll be in by an' by." "I'll
search for him by 'n' by, if he don't," proclaimed Mrs. Todd, with an air
of unalterable resolution. "I know all of his burrows down 'long the
shore. I'll catch him by hand 'fore he knows it. I've got some business with
William, anyway. I brought forty-two cents with me that was due him for them
last lobsters he brought in." "You can
leave it with me," suggested the little old mother, who was already
stepping about among her pots and pans in the pantry, and preparing to make the
chowder. I became possessed of a sudden unwonted curiosity in regard to William, and felt that half the pleasure of my visit would be lost if I could not make his interesting acquaintance. |