CHAPTER XVI.

A HURRIED DEPARTURE.

It was not until the following morning that Aunt Nancy paid any particular attention to the circular regarding camp meeting which Bill Dean had brought.

Then, as Jack came in from milking, she said with a suddenness which caused the boy to start in surprise,--

"I have been thinking about the camp meeting. What is your opinion?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"You remember the paper which William Dean brought last night?"

"Yes."

"Well, it was the time-table of the trains which run to the grounds. Somehow your coming upset me so I had forgotten all about the meeting, and if I should miss it, it would be the first time since I was quite a young girl."

"When does it begin?"

"Day after to-morrow."

"Why don't you go? I can stay here an' take care of crumple-horn and Louis well enough."

"Bless you, child, I wouldn't think of leaving you alone three or four days."

"Would you be gone as long as that?"

"A great many stay the whole week, and I did one year; but it was almost too tedious."

"Well, both of us couldn't be away at the same time, an'--"

"Why not?"

"Because the cow must be milked an' put in the barn."

"Daniel Chick's daughters have always done that for me, and would again."

"But what about Louis?"

"I have been wondering whether I couldn't take him with me."

"It would be terrible hard work to lug a baby 'round all the time."

"If you went I should be relieved of the greater portion of that care."

"It seems as if you had pretty nigh made up your mind already."

"There is only one thing which prevents me, and I can't figure it out," the little woman said with an air of anxiety.

"What is it?" Jack asked in surprise.

"I don't know that it is prudent to spare the money. You see it won't be long now before the summer boarders come, and it costs a great deal to get ready for them."

Jack could make no reply. This was a question about which he was ignorant, and there was a certain hesitation on his part regarding the discussion of such a subject when he could do nothing to forward the matter by pecuniary aid.

No more was said until after breakfast, when Mrs. Hayes came in, looking excited and breathless.

"Haven't you done anything about going to camp meeting, Nancy Curtis?" she cried, as she swung the big rocking-chair around and would have sat on Louis had not Jack called her attention to the fact by pulling the baby from his dangerous position.

"I was just speaking about it, but don't know as I shall go."

"But you must, Nancy. The children can stay at my house."

"If I went they would go with me," the little woman replied, in a tone which told she was not willing to discuss that question.

"Very well, there is nothing to prevent. Daniel Chick will take his big tent, and he says you're welcome to use as much of it as you want."

"He is very good, I'm sure."

"And you'll go, of course? It wouldn't seem like a camp meeting if you wasn't there; and, besides, we always look to you for the coffee. Deacon Downs says it's one of the pleasures of the week to drink Aunt Nancy's Mocha."

"I do try to get the best, and when that has been done any one can make it good," the little woman said as her withered cheeks flushed with pleasure at the compliment, while never for a moment did she fancy this praise might have been given only that she should supply the occupants of the tent with their morning beverage.

"Then it is settled, you will go?" and Mrs. Hayes arose to her feet. "I can't stop a minute, but felt I must run over to find out if you'd begun preparations."

"I haven't, and whether you see me there or not depends. I will let you know to-morrow."

"But you must go, because we won't take no for an answer."

Aunt Nancy shook her head as if to say the matter was very uncertain, and the visitor took her departure, insisting that the townspeople "couldn't get along without their coffee maker."

"I'm sure I don't know what to do," the little woman said with a long-drawn sigh when she and Jack were alone.

"If you haven't money enough, why not leave me an' Louis here alone? I'll be awful careful with the house, an' there can't any accident happen."

"I'm not afraid to trust you, Jack dear; but as I told Mrs. Hayes, it isn't to be thought of for a minute."

"Ain't there some way I might earn the money?"

"Bless you, no, child. Even if I was willing you should do such a thing, there isn't any time. The most expensive part of it is that I have always furnished the coffee for all in the tent, and it does take a powerful lot to go around. Why, Deacon Downs himself can drink three cups of a morning, an' then look around sort of wishfully for another. I always give it to him, too, if there's enough left in the pot."

Jack felt very badly because he could do nothing toward helping the little woman out of her difficulty, while Louis laughed and crowed as if he thought the whole affair decidedly comical.

Aunt Nancy bustled around the house performing a great deal of unnecessary work, her forehead knitted into a frown which showed she was thinking the matter over in the most serious fashion, and Jack watched her every movement.

Finally the problem was solved, for her face lighted up as, taking Louis in her arms and seating herself in the rocking-chair, she said cheerily,--

"I don't think William Dean would attempt to make trouble for you now, Jack dear."

"Neither do I. Mr. Souders probably scolded him for mixin' up the harness, and he won't bother me."

"Do you feel quite certain of that?"

"Indeed I do."

"Then would it be too much of a walk for you to go to Treat's store?"

"Of course it wouldn't, Aunt Nancy. You've only to say the word, an' I'll be off like a shot."

Jack had seized his hat as he spoke, and appeared to be on the point of rushing away without waiting for the message, when she stopped him by saying,--

"There's no need of such haste. It will take me some time to fix the errand so you can do it. Last season Daniel Chick farmed the back field for me on shares, and I have quite a lot of wheat on hand. Mr. Treat wanted to buy it, and now I'm going to accept his offer. In case he still wants it, you must bring back some things from the store."

"Am I to get the coffee?"

"No, that would be too large a bundle. I'll write Mr. Treat a letter, and the remainder of the business you can arrange."

Jack was delighted at being able to do something toward settling the vexed question, and waited very impatiently for the little woman to make her preparations.

This was quite a long task because a letter was to be written, and after that a list of articles prepared; but finally Aunt Nancy completed the work, and Jack set off at full speed with a generous supply of bread and butter in a neatly tied parcel.

He returned before she fancied he could have more than gotten there, and brought with him the goods required.

"Mr. Treat says he'll tell Daniel Chick to haul the wheat, and you shall know how much there is as soon as it can be weighed. If you want anything more you shall send for it."

"Did he say I could have some money?" Aunt Nancy asked anxiously.

"He told me to tell you to call on for cash or goods up to thirty dollars, for he was certain it would amount to as much as that."

"Then everything will be fixed without any trouble, and I will tell Mrs. Hayes we shall go to the camp meeting. Now, Jack dear, lie down a little while and get rested so you can help me. We must do a great deal of cooking before to-morrow night."

During the remainder of the afternoon and the day following, the household was in as great a state of confusion and excitement as when arrangements were being made for the sewing circle.

Aunt Nancy, assisted by Jack, cooked provisions sufficient to have kept a much larger family in food fully two weeks; but the little woman explained she "never liked to go to camp meeting without having something to give those who might come hungry."

The neighbors, and, more particularly, Deacon Downs, had called to ascertain if "the coffee maker" was really going, and Daniel Chick promised to come for her with his wagon at an early hour the following morning.

The deacon agreed to attend to the transportation of the Mocha, and on the evening before the journey was to be made everything appeared to be in "apple-pie order," although to Aunt Nancy's eyes the house was far from being in a proper condition.

Jack was both tired and excited.

The prospect of going to a camp meeting pleased him wonderfully, for he had never attended one, and fancied it was something intended for sport rather than anything serious.

The baskets were packed; Louis's suit of white clothes stiff with starch and without a blemish; Jack's boots were polished until they shone like a mirror; and Aunt Nancy spent considerable time bewailing the fact that she could not afford to buy him a new coat and pair of trousers.

Not until late was the little woman ready to retire, and it appeared to Jack as if he had just fallen asleep when she awakened him to milk the cow.

After feeding the animal it seemed as if a very long time would elapse before it would be possible for him to do the same again, and he patted her sleek sides affectionately as he explained that one of Mr. Chick's daughters would take his place during the next three or four days.

It isn't very likely the animal understood what he said, but she was perfectly willing to part with him, since it was to exchange the stuffy barnyard for the cool, inviting pasture.

The milk was strained and put out on the doorsteps for Miss Chick, since Aunt Nancy could not take it with her, and then a hurried breakfast was eaten. None too soon, either, for the meal had just been finished when Mr. Chick drove up, fretting considerably because the party were not ready to get into the vehicle instantly he arrived.

Half a dozen times was Jack sent to make certain this door or that was fastened securely, and the owner of the wagon worked himself into a state of profuse perspiration before Aunt Nancy finally announced she was ready.

Jack thoroughly enjoyed the ride to the depot, four miles away.

The odor of the flowers and grasses was heavy on the cool air; the birds sang their hymns of thanksgiving that the new day had come; and the trees whispered together of the goodness of the Creator in making for his creatures such a beautiful place in which to live.

"It seems almost wicked to enjoy a scene like this when there are so many poor people who never see the country from one year's end to another," Aunt Nancy said, as she looked around in delight; and Mr. Chick replied, speaking much as if he had a cold in his head,--

"It's for us to take all the enjiment that comes in this world, an' leave others to bear the burdens which are put upon them."

"If that is good doctrine, Daniel Chick, I'd like to know how you'd fancied a dose of it when you was down with the rheumatiz an' depended upon the neighbors to gather the crops?"

"That was a different matter, Nancy Curtis."

"In what way?"

"Well, you see--I--I--p'rhaps I can't explain it so's you an' the children can understand; but there was a difference."

"Only because you can't put yourself in the situation of others. The Golden Rule is good enough for me yet, and I don't think I'll change it for yours."

This brief conversation had no effect on Jack, nor would he have thought it an important matter if Mr. Chick had attempted to prove the little woman was wrong. His faith in Aunt Nancy was so great that whatever she said was to him a truth not to be disputed.

On arriving at the depot it was learned they were fully an hour too early for the train, and Jack mourned the fact that he might have remained at home long enough to put the barn in better order.

It was a large party who intended to make the journey on this morning, and to Jack's dismay he saw Bill Dean and his particular friends arrive about half an hour before the time for leaving.

If it had been possible he would have remained out of sight; but the station was small, and Aunt Nancy insisted he should stand where she could keep her eyes on him, consequently it was not many moments before Master Dean recognized him.

"Oh, dear! _is_ he going? and _must_ we be in fear and trembling of him all the time we stay?" Aunt Nancy said pathetically as she saw the three boys approaching. "Keep close to me, Jack dear, and if he attempts any mischief I'll appeal for help to Deacon Downs."

Bill, however, did not intend to commit any overt act while there were so many around who would not hesitate about dealing out justice to him without delay.

He contented himself by walking slowly around Aunt Nancy and Jack, as he said to Jip Lewis,--

"I didn't think we stood so much of a chance to have a good time at camp meetin' this year. Here's Hunchie with the old maid, and we'll see that they don't get lonesome."

Fortunately Aunt Nancy did not hear him, otherwise she might have said something which would have provoked further and louder threats.

Jack, however, could distinguish every word, and before the three tormentors finished their promenade he regretted having accompanied the little woman.

"I ain't afraid they'll get very much the best of me," he said to himself; "but there isn't goin' to be a great deal of fun if I've got to keep my eyes open for them all the time."