XXXIXTHE OLD HOMESTEAD
The gray dawn of a bleak December morning found the Ranger brothers alternately stamping the snow from their feet on the front veranda of the old homestead, and listening for the first sounds of awakening within. The same denuded locust-boughs swept the lattice as of yore; and it seemed but yesterday to John Ranger as he recalled the time he had caught his gentle Annie in his arms on that momentous and well-remembered evening, and made the startling announcement, “It’s all settled, mother. Brother Lije has bought the farm, and we’ll be off in less than a month for Oregon.”
He turned to his brother, whose face was like marble as he stood in the shadow of the wall, as silent as the Sphinx.
“Who in thunder is coming here to rout a fellow out o’ bed at this time of a Sunday morning?” growled Lije Robinson, as he opened the door an inch or so and peeped out into the biting air.
“It is I and another,” cried John Ranger, pushing the door wide open. For a moment the brothers-in-law faced each other in silence. One was dumb with many conflicting emotions, the other with simple wonder.
“Your conscience must have troubled you,” said Lije, after an awkward pause, “or you wouldn’t have come back. But come in! I’ll start up the fire. Who’s this?” looking hard at Joseph, whose bronzed and bearded face was more than half concealed by the upturned collar of his fur-lined overcoat.
“Don’t you know him, Lije?”
“Naw, nor I don’t want to.”
Meanwhile Mrs. Robinson had emerged from her room after a hurried toilet.
“Sister Mollie!”
“Brother John!”
For half a minute not another word was spoken.
“I never expected to set eyes on you again,” cried the sister at last, as, half crying and half laughing, she held him at arm’s length for a better view. “It seemed as if you had left the world when you went to Oregon; and now you are back again,—the same old John.”
“This is an age of progress, Mollie. The planet doesn’t seem so very big, if you know how to get around it.”
“Will you introduce the stranger, John?” asked his sister, in a welcoming tone.
“I’ve been waiting to see if he would be recognized. There is another surprise in store for you, Mollie. Did you ever see this man before?”
“Can it be possible,” she asked, her face deathly pale, “that this is my brother Joseph?”
“Yes, Mollie,” he cried, as he caught her in his arms, “I’m your long-lost brother.”
“Then I hope you’ve come prepared to pay your honest debts,” growled the brother-in-law. “I’ve wrestled with that old mortgage till I’m demnition tired!”
“I hope you’ll permit me to atone as best I can, Lije. That’s what I’m here for.”
“Don’t be too hard on him, Lije!” pleaded the sister, as she helped the prodigal to remove his overcoat. “You’re all right now, brother, aren’t you?”
“I will be as soon as I have settled some old scores with your bear of a husband.”
“Don’t mind Lije!” said his sister, aside. “His losses and obligations have made him discouraged and cross. It wasn’t natural that he should endure our hardships resignedly, as we did. Blood is thicker thanwater, you know. Oh, Joseph, if I only could buy for our parents a nice little farm, such as Annie deeded to her father and mother! There’s a ten-acre farm adjoining theirs; I cannot sleep for thinking about it. But my whole lifework has been devoted to Lije, and must count for nothing, so far as father and mother are concerned. Father gave me a cow and calf for a wedding present, as you will remember. They would have made me comfortable long ago if I could have kept them and one-half of their increase as mine.”
“Yes, Mollie; and I acted the brute beast over that gift. I was a bumptious boy then; and I encouraged Lije in the idea that he mustn’t allow his wife to own property. I waxed eloquent, as I thought, over coverture, and such other archaic injustice as merges the existence of a wife into that of her husband. Men are more appreciative of women on the Pacific coast than they are here; but there are laws and usages out there yet that call loudly for a change, the Lord knows.”
“I am not complaining of Lije, Joe. He has never offered me any bodily injury in his life, and I’ve learned not to mind the explosions from his mouth. I have everything I need for my own simple wants; but, no matter how hard I struggle, I can never help my parents to a penny unless I steal it”; and she laid her head on her brother’s shoulder and sobbed aloud.
“What’s the matter now?” growled her husband. “Can’t you stop your bawling when you have company?”
“Breakfast is ready,” said Annie Robinson, a tall and handsome girl, who had been busy in the lean-to kitchen.
“Annie, this is Uncle Joseph,” said her mother, smiling through her tears.
“I don’t want to see him,” retorted the girl, rudely, turning to Uncle John with extended hands and a smile of welcome, and saying in a half-whisper, “What did you bring him here for?”
“The hair of the dog is good for the bite sometimes, my girl. Your Uncle Joseph is all right. He’ll atone for everything if we’ll give him half a chance.”
“You owe Joseph an apology for your rudeness, Annie; I am surprised at you!” said her mother. Then, turning to Joseph: “Don’t mind Annie. She is unhappy and cross because she could not go to boarding-school this winter.”
“If I didn’t deserve what I’m getting I wouldn’t stand it, sister; but I’ve come to atone, and I must take my punishment.”
The room was severely cold, and the hot breakfast filled the air with a vapor that obscured the window-panes. The lighted candles, in their tall receivers, reflected translucent halos, and lit the lithe figure of Annie Robinson, who flitted silently between the table and the great black stove, serving the food, and looking like a weird, uncanny shade.
“The way of the transgressor is hard,” thought Joseph. “We must be ready to take the back track to-morrow, John,” he said, rising from his chair, and leaving his food almost untasted. “Whatever business you and Lije may have between you must be agreed upon to-day. Where can I hire a horse and sleigh?”
“I’ve a cutter in the barn,” said Lije, beginning to relax a little as his breakfast stirred his heart and warmed his spirits. “You’ll find half-a-dozen old sawmill horses in the big shed back of the barn. They’re spavined and ringboned, and one of ’em is knock-kneed; but you can take your pick of the lot.”
“Won’t you let me go along, Joe?” asked his brother, as they left the house together. “Where are you going, anyhow?”
“Of course you can go along if you are not needed here. I am going to see about buying that ten-acre tract that Mollie told me about. If it is suitable for the needs of our parents, I will see them installed in a homeof their own before another week passes. Why, John, I’d rather murder our dear old father and mother in cold blood than leave them under the heel of that parsimonious—”
“Don’t be too hard on Lije, Joe. He’s had a whole lot to contend with since the sawmill, the debts, and other double loads have been left on his hands.”
“And no wonder,” was the significant rejoinder. “He deserves his fate.”
The sun arose in splendor, warming the air, and making the drive of three or four miles keenly invigorating and enjoyable. They found the little farm they had come to inspect in fair condition, though in need of some modern improvements, of which the brothers took note. The land had originally belonged to the senior Ranger, who had secured a title to the half-section of which it was a part, directly from the government.
“If father had been content with smaller land holdings, it might have been better for him and all the rest of us,” said John.
“There is danger that we may make the same mistake in Oregon,” replied Joseph.
“What a wealthy man father might have been, though, if he had held on to all the land he acquired in this country in an early day!” added John.
“But he’d be a happier man to-day on this ten-acre plat, with prosperous small farmers all around him and all the improvements and conveniences on the plat that it can be made to carry, than he would be with a whole township on his shoulders under the burdens of taxation and a careless tenantry.”
“I don’t know but you are right,” echoed John; “it isn’t what we own, or imagine that we own, in this world, but what we can utilize, that makes up our real possessions. Oregon will surely suffer, in years to come, as a result of the present system of land-grabbing. Most of the unhappiness of the farmers’ wives results fromisolation, which small farms would remedy. This little home is a perfect gem. Mother will be delighted.”
“And the Robinson old folks will have congenial neighbors. I can shut my eyes and see father now, hobbling about the place with his cane, pulling a weed here and a flower there, tending the horse and cow and garden, planting his onions and potatoes in the dark of the moon, as of old, and his cabbage and peas and beans when it is full.”
“And think how mother will enjoy her poultry and posies! But we must do something to relieve Lije of his burden of debt, or he’ll drive Mollie to suicide.”
“I feel under no obligation to Lije, God knows! But for Mollie’s sake, I’ll see about helping him out.”
“Do you still intend to leave for the coast to-morrow?”
“No,” said Joseph. “I spoke hastily. This is Sunday. We can’t complete our business to-day. I will see the agent and settle about this little farm in the morning. After we get the old folks comfortable it will be time to consider Lije. He must wait.”
“I’ve been thinking all day,” said John, as they were journeying homeward, “that the entire running machinery of the home should be intrusted to women, who are the real home-makers. My Annie planned for the support of her parents, and made them modestly independent by a stroke of her pen. But she could not have done it if I had continued obstinate about signing the deed; and I am very much afraid I could not have been prevailed upon to do it if it hadn’t been for the persistence of Jean. She gave me no peace till the conveyance was made. If women possessed law-making power, these matters would in time be adjusted, and both men and women would be the gainers in the long run. But both men and women are as short-sighted as they are selfish. Solomon was right when he said: ‘There is that scattereth, and yet increaseth; and there is that withholdeth more than is meet,but it tendeth to poverty.’ It is noticeable that men of the frontier are more inclined to be just with their co-workers, the mothers, than the men of the older States.”
“It’s all settled, mother,” exclaimed Joseph, as he alighted at the cottage doorstep and threw the reins to John; “I’ve been to see that little farm adjoining Pap Robinson’s, and I’ve made terms. The little place is yours from now on, and I will not leave you till you are settled in it.”
“Your father will be so happy, son! He started to meeting a little while ago. I stayed at home to have a nice, warm supper ready. It isn’t many more meals I’ll get a chance to cook for my boys.”
“You did your share in that line long ago, mother dear.”
In the family reunion in the little cottage home that night there were no intruders. John, Mary, and Joseph held sweet communion with their parents alone.
“Our Father in Heaven,” prayed the old man, before retiring, “we thank Thee for all Thy tender mercies to us-ward. We realize Thy hand in our chastening; and we behold Thy love in our sorrows, since, but for them, we could not appreciate our joys. We thank Thee for John, for Mary, for Joseph, and for this night’s reunion. We also thank Thee for our absent dear ones, and for those whose bodies are under the snow, whose spirits are with Thee.
“Animate us all with the Christ spirit, O God; and grant that in Thine own good time we all may meet again.”
And the brothers echoed aloud the good father’s “Amen.”