It was a chilly autumn day and some of the older girls and the hired man, Cliff, were out trying to get the corn in from the fields before snow. Robbie drove the wagon. A heavy rain had lately destroyed some water gaps in the pasture and Daddy had saddled Lucy to run out and appraise the damage. He had just returned and came in for a drink of hot coffee and one of the savory cinnamon rolls Mamma had just taken from the oven. That morning Mary Jane had awakened with a sore throat; but when she found it kept her out of husking corn, she considered it rather lucky.
A sudden light rat-a-tat on the kitchen door surprised them. There stood little Jeanne French.
“Mr. Hillman,” she piped up sassily, “you better come get your cows out of our corn! My Daddy said,” but Daddy interrupted.
“No sooner said than done! My horse is saddled and ready. Mom, give her a roll and we’ll be off. Would the young lady care to ride home? If so, hike up there behind the saddle and hang on.”
Jeanne was a little taken aback by the friendly reception after her rather belligerent approach. She allowed herself to be hoisted up behind the saddle and swallowed her sticky roll down quickly between giggles.
“I’m right sorry the cows got out, Jeanne. This rain y’ know has washed out some fences.”
“Urn-hum,” and she wiped her hands on Mr. Hillman’s jacket.
“Make her go fast. I want to run!”
“What’s yer rush? And what, may I ask, is tickling your funny bone? You’ve been snickering like Lucy was switching’ her tail up under yer chin.”
“Tee-Hee-Hee!” she laughed devilishly. “I’m just laughing at how our bull is going to kill you!”
Hillman whistled softly. Wheeling Lucy abruptly, he raced back to the barn.
“Hey, you take me home and get your old cows!” Jeanne was nasty.
“Hold on a sec’, girl. And thanks for telling me.” Quick as a wink he picked up a strong leather buggy whip tucked in a niche on the corral fence.
“Hold tight, now, and I’ll give you a run for your money!”
He let her off a little distance from the house.
“What in the –! Well, I’ll be horsewhipped! If that ain’t old Joe his self and the kids all out there behind the corn crib to see the show!” His lips tightened. “And, all bein’ well, we’ll give ‘em a show to remember!”
As he approached the field, he saw a few of his own cows and the French’s huge, long-horned bull browsing in a sparsely fruited, poorly cared for field of corn. French was famous for things other than farming. It was a scarcely veiled secret in the neighborhood that the unexplained prosperity of the family did not come from expertise in farming. Everyone else around the countryside de-horned their bulls when young to reduce the danger of injury, for bulls often have touchy dispositions. But not French. The bull immediately resented the horse and rider’s approach, considering them a threat to his happy situation and domain. Lowering his massive horned head, he pawed the dirt, bellowing ominously.
Mr. Hillman continued his roundup skillfully, while keeping a wary eye on the bull. “Here he comes, Lucy,” he whispered. Holding the reins firmly in one hand and the whip in readiness, he let the bull charge oh-so-very-close! At the right instant, quick little Lucy side-stepped and the cruel whip lashed out across Old Thunder’s blood-shot eyes. He roared and twisted in rage and pain. It was a little harder to sight his enemy again, but charge again he must and beat them to the dust. On he came in fury, foam and lather! Again the cruel whip seared his eyeballs. That was enough! Half-blinded and spirit-broken for the moment, he turned and trotted away. The cows were guided home.
Back again in the house, the family had returned from the field and the girls were resting a minute before starting chores.
“Eva, you won’t believe what that – that murderous old Joe tried to pull over!”
“Why, Ned! What’s wrong?”
All eyes were on Daddy. He told his story as none else could, and they listened aghast.
Jennie had stood transfixed during the tale of the encounter with the bull.
“Oh! Daddy! Magnificent! If only I could have seen it!” she glowed.
“Magnificent! Why I – I – I’ve got to sit down!” cried Mamma. “Oh, Ned! To think of dear Helen French having to live with a man like that!”
“Well,” and Jennie looked a little ashamed; “I was only thinking of how Daddy handled the horse and all – – –.”
Unmistakably, pride glowed on Daddy’s face a second and his straight shoulders seemed a little more square as he remarked casually, “Your old Dad didn’t punch cows fer all them years – since I was 15 to be exact – fer nothin’! Now, Eva, y’see why I like a good horse around. One of them old slow nags and I’d a been done fer!”
Clara hadn’t spoken, but her eyes danced. “I don’t see why someone doesn’t turn in that – that – moon-shiner – and I bet he really did threaten to kill Mrs. French if she gets baptized!”
Mamma looked indignant. “Well, of course. You don’t think Helen would lie to me! I know. Ned, you act like you don’t hardly believe her either!”
“Now just calm down, Mamma. ‘Course I believe her. But what I was meanin’ is I don’t think he’d really do it. He’s yeller all up and down his crooked backbone. I remember right here in this very kitchen – why he was a standin’ right there where Lori stands ( that was years ago before we were converted) Joe, he come over mad as a hornet over some fence problems.”
“‘Wester Heelman,’ he says, and them green eyes was mean as a snake’s. ‘Meester Heelman, I challenge you to duel, I fight duel with you!’
“‘Okay, Joe,’ I says, lookin” im square in the eyes. ‘Name your weapons man.’
“All that bluff melted in a second and he was whimperin’, ‘No, No! Meester Heelman! I deed not mean it!” Daddy threw his head back and laughed heartily.
“No, seriously though, Clara, our place isn’t to get the law on him. We’d ought to get the Lord on ‘em. I reckon I’d go over tomorrow and give him the gospel again if I thought he’d receive it.”
“He’ll never get saved I’ll bet,” Jennie said in disgust. “You can’t limit the grace of God,” Mamma said a little heatedly. “Our hearts are all the same. His is bad, and even, it would seem, murderous; but the Scripture says that he who hates his brother is a murderer. I’ve heard some pretty strong talk around here –!. But,” then Mamma smiled a triumphant little smile, “it would be such a triumph of His grace – and just like our Lord! I think Joe will some day be in heaven!”
A sudden sound in the direction of the dining room almost startled the family. There was old Charlie. It was hard for him to speak much English, some Slavish tongue being native to him, but he almost sputtered, “Na, Na! old Joe – he not go to heaven! Charlie know old Joe. Bad egg! Taka too much dollah! Too much dollah to get Joe to heaven!”
“Charlie old boy,” Daddy said patiently, “How many times have I showed you from the Word of God that salvation is free?”
But old Charlie, steeped in the darkness of the Eastern Catholic Church could never seem to lay hold of the truth as it is in the Word. To him, this doctrine of salvation by grace alone was heresy.
“He not get outa de purgatory – too much dollah!” and Charlie hurried outside.
Daddy shook his head. “There may be more hope for old Joe French,” he said sadly.
Lori had been biting her lip thoughtfully. “Daddy, I wish you’d let me try to collect the money old Joe owes you.”
“Go to it! But he’ll roll those big eyes at you and squeeze out a few tears. Then he’ll manage to attract your attention to his poor old hunch back and you’ll offer to loan him yer piggy bank savin’s. And, boy! He’d take ‘em too!”
“I’ve got a feelin’ though, Mom,” and Dad looked a little uneasy, “jest a feelin’ maybe – but I’m afraid we’re not through with that old –.”
“Ned!” Mother remonstrated. “Watch your language! The idea, in front of the children –!”
“The bull, Mom. The bull, I was referrin’ to. Old Joe may be the devil’s servant but I warn’t callin’ him names. There, there now Mamma! Don’t you worry. I aim to live peaceably with ‘em as much as lies in my power, that is.”
And the little gathering broke up for chore time. But Mamma’s step had no spring and her head was often bowed. She grieved for the plight of her dear sister in the Lord. “How her righteous soul must be grieved from day to day!” (Helen French had not as yet been courageous enough to take the step of baptism, for Joe had threatened again and again to shoot her if she did.) “At least he doesn’t stop our weekly readings,” she sighed.
On the way to the barn, Mary Jane skipped beside her Daddy.
“Charlie is such a funny old man! He doesn’t seem to like us kids much, though.”
“Well,” Daddy answered, “I reckon he jest never run up against too many in his experience being a bachelor all these years. Children’re somewhat of a mystery to him, and a trouble. Jest don’t take it to heart.”
But Charlie was a source of trouble to the children. He seemed to think they were often making fun of him and deliberately plaguing him. Consequently, they felt more like doing – just that. But not as often as he supposed.
One Saturday morning, shortly before lunch time, Charlie approached Daddy fuming: “Meester Heelman, your keeds taka my pipe and hide it! They no tell where ‘tis – just laugh alla time and say they didna touch it. Charlie know better! Look all over and not find pipe! Your keeds they alla time tease old Charlie!”
So it was that Daddy called the clan together – all except Lori. She was nowhere to be found.
“Now, children,” and Daddy looked really stern. “These monkey shines of yours have got to stop. I’ll not have you plaguing Charlie. Get that pipe of his, and get it NOW. No one is getting a bite of lunch until you’ve given it back. That’s final. Hear me?”
“But, Daddy, he just lost it himself,” began Clara. But the steel gray eyes sent an unmistakable message her way.
They all began to search high and low. Someone remembered Charlie was seen napping on the sunny side of a hay stack and they searched there too.
“You don’t suppose Lori would have –? Where on earth is she?” grumbled Jennie. “Just wait. Someday I’m going to get even with mean old Charlie!”
A very discouraged group began to gather where Daddy and Charlie waited. Mamma had called for lunch and things seemed to have reached an impasse. Just then Lori came running over the knoll from the direction of the French’s farm. She was triumphantly waving a five dollar bill shouting “Eureka!”
But Daddy looked so stern and everyone was so solemn that her elation quickly melted away.
“What’s wrong? What happened?”
“It’s Charlie’s old pipe,” Clara almost hissed. “He says we hid it. Lori, if you got us into all this trouble.”
But Lori looked as innocent as a baby.
“Hey! What’s that sticking out of your shirt? – No, the pocket on the other side!” Lori was looking at Charlie’s shirt.
There was the missing pipe!
Charlie was dumbfounded. Instead of apologizing, he sputtered something about “Keeds alla time tease old Charlie and maka da fun!” and he went off to the barn too ashamed to eat his lunch.
“Well, I like that!” Jennie exclaimed. “He ought to apologize!”
“By rights he ought to,” Daddy answered. “But let it pass. I’m right glad you weren’t all that bad. However, get this clear now. No more teasing Charlie! Now let’s go eat.”
Seated around the big table to the usual Saturday lunch – steaming pinto beans and bread and butter Lori again produced the fiver.
“Isn’t anyone going to ask me about this? After all my efforts! I collected it from old Joe. Remember, Daddy, you told me to ‘go to it’ when I asked you if I could?”
Daddy’s mouth dropped open. “You didn’t – you well, I never! Lori, I never dreamed you’d try in the first place. In the second place, I wouldn’t have let you if I had any idea you would. In the third place, I can’t believe it. But go ahead and tell us your story!”
Lori’s eyes danced with delight as all eyes were upon her.
“Well, I made sure Mrs. French was home first, just in case. When I went up to him out by the barnyard and said ‘Good morning, Mr. French,’ he took off his old trench hat and bowed so gallantly he almost scraped the ground. We talked a bit and then I told him what I came for. He pursed his lips and squinted his eyes so cunningly it made me wish I hadn’t come. Boy! It just came over me that he looks just like old John Silver in Treasure Island! He did exactly like you said he would, Daddy! Cried around – really squeezing out some tears! And even more! He can make sweat come out on his forehead, and look so pitiful! But I just remembered about the bull and didn’t feel one bit sorry for him! He said he was not ‘lucky’ with the fanning ‘like your Papa.’ I said, ‘It takes hard work and not luck.’ Then he cried about his poor broken back and how hard it was to get around; his manure spreader was broken and he had to go to town to get a part (‘but I have no money’); and then he wiped real sweat off his face and whined, ‘Even zee old flivver, she not crank up for me.’ I just answered ‘Well, what about Balzar and Horace and Victor, your big boys? My Daddy only has Robbie and he’s just eleven years old! And about money, my Daddy always sells a steer when he has to have cash.’
“‘But my dear leetel Fran, one cannot get zee blood from zee turnip. I have no steer to sell.’
“Just then a nice fat steer came around the corner of the barn! I pointed to him and said, ‘What do you call that animal?’
“He looked so surprised! Then he threw his head back and laughed. Flipping out his wallet, he gave me this five dollars.
“Then the awful part came! He pushed his big, round face up so close to mine that his mustache almost touched me. His big eyes looked like his bull’s – almost.
“‘My leetel Fran, she drives the hard bargain, no?’ Then he pinched my cheek.
“Believe me, I thanked him and got out of there in a hurry! Ugh! I can still smell the wine and tobacco on his breath!”
“Now, I know who to call on fer bill collectin’!” Daddy laughed. “That’s rich! Old Joe’s met his match!”
Mother, however, looked severe. “Well, you sure wouldn’t have had my permission to go up there! It’s a wonder – well no more bill collecting from him, as far as I’m concerned for any of you girls.”
“Well, now, Mamma,” Daddy put in. “It’s done now. I reckon Lori earned every cent of this five. What you aimin’ to order from Monkey Ward’s catalog, eh, Lori?”
“A new winter hat and shoes,” was the immediate answer. “I have them already picked out.”