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A New Zealand Courtship and other Work-A-Day Stories

Chapter II

page 111

Chapter II

Madge went back to the pleasant home, and Cherry entered the dull, untidy room, with one lamp burning dimly and smelling dreadfully, where auntie was 'caddling' still, and her husband dropping asleep over the newspaper. The Cross was high in the heavens without; Cherry could not help thinking that, after all, it was fitting to begin her task under that sign.

Mrs. Chuckers was very kind, and showed her up the staircase—like a ladder with a rail to it, against the wall—to the boasted 'room of her own'—a small boarded loft under the roof, very hot and stuffy in summer, and cold in winter.

'Shall I stop and put my things away before I come down?' said Cherry; and when auntie agreed, and left her, she discovered the absence of any nice places to put them in, such as she had at home. And there was no brother to call, who page 112would put her up a shelf or a curtain; no one to laugh with, and make fun of her contrivances. Cherry had never been away from home before, except on pleasant visits. A sense of extreme loneliness came over her, as though the dear little home were a hundred miles away already, and she could have sat down and cried.

But that was just what Willie declared she was sure to do; so she plucked up spirit and went down again, planning how she would soon make everything different.

Chuckers was on the watch to take her down at the beginning, if she gave herself airs. He could not say that she did; but Cherry felt instinctively that the enemy was ready for battle; she must be on her guard.

And how was she to mount guard, poor little maiden who had never known any atmosphere but that of love and trust? She had marched to the field, so sure of triumph, and now—it was not so easy, this conquest—she found herself without an idea how to set about it. Then she turned to her Bible again, and read, 'When I sent you without purse, or scrip, or shoes, lacked ye anything? And they said unto Him, Nothing.'

'Yes,' she thought, 'He did send me—I am sure of it; and I shall lack nothing. It will be given me, every hour, what I ought to say.' And she page 113crept into her uncomfortable little bed and slept soundly till morning.

The first day seemed like a week, and yet how all the work squeezed into it Cherry could not think. She had gone over with grand ideas of pulling things up to a much higher standard than Sallie had: at the end of two days she was lost in admiration of Sallie for having ever got through the work at all. So much that the boys did at home fell upon the women here. Twenty-six cows, and all but five or six of them to be milked morning and evening! Cherry loved all live creatures, and thought she loved milking too; but you must love it very much indeed to maintain the sentiment when you come to your eleventh cow, and know, moreover, that ten times eleven other things have to be done before milking-time comes round again. That was the worst of it; it was always coming round. As to having any spirit left to fight with Timothy—she found herself flying to anticipate his every wish, for fear of a battle she had not the heart to wage. Chuckers, on his part, found himself exceeding well served. This trim little girl was as willing as Sallie, and more clever and smart about it.

After the manner of his kind, he showed signs of increasing the labours of the willing horse. Cherry could almost have wished that home was a page 114hundred miles away, she had so little to boast of when her 'evening out' came round.

'I do hope I shan't make out a better story than is true. I know I shan't win, for a judgment on me, if I do,' she said to herself as she dressed. Already the nervous, strained sensation which poor Sallie knew so well was creeping upon her.

However, home was generous. First came the welcome; then, 'Have you made an impression, Cherry?' said Frank.

'Of course I have,' she answered. 'I don't know whether it's the right one, though,' she added honestly.

'Has he jawed you yet?' asked Willie.

'Oh no,' said Cherry. At this they all clapped her, and she felt quite herself again directly, and equal, to anything.

'I'm very polite to him, you know,' she said truthfully.

'Auntie told Sallie it's all so peaceful, she feels as if there must be a death coming,' said Madge.

There was a shout of laughter, and then the brothers went off somewhere, and the mother and daughters had a sound, practical talk over ways and means.

'The men ought to help you more, and you ought to have better things to work with,' said page 115Mrs. Harkiss; 'but that must come by degrees. It's too soon to begin asking.'

'You see, if I begin a fight, I must win it or go; and I don't want to go,' said Cherry.

'That's right,' said her mother; 'but don't begin doing anything you can't go on with without hurting yourself. That wouldn't pay.'

The boys came back, and they laughed and sang, and had their family prayer together; and Cherry walked back with two brothers to escort her, as brave as a lion again. When she had left Chuckers' house, its roof seemed to fill the world; now, it had dwindled into a very small place, and a year spent there would be quite a small piece out of a whole, bright, eager life—and well worth giving.

Perhaps her aspect was less meek next day; at any rate, Chuckers thought it time to show his authority, and when she went out to feed the fowls in the afternoon he ordered her to empty a sack of Indian corn into the bin.

'I'm afraid it's more than I can manage,' said Cherry pleasantly.

Chuckers glared at her. 'It's got to be done,' he said, and walked out. Cherry filled her bowl, and followed him. Jupp was just outside; he must have heard.

'I won't ask him to do it, though,' she thought. page 116'And I'm not going to do it myself, with two great men about,'

Sallie would have opened the sack, and dipped out the corn with her bowl till she could manage to tilt it up.

Two days and nights that sack stood there, inviting rats to nibble. On the third morning, Cherry scraped the bin of the last grain of corn, and left it open. All this time Chuckers was silent and surly, but not offensive, and she showed him all her usual attention. She looked in on her way to milk, in the afternoon; the sack stood there still. The fowls were waiting to be fed: she let them wait, and went to the cows.

As she sat milking, she could see, through a small window, the door of the outhouse, and presently saw Jupp walk into it. She stopped to listen, and distinctly heard the sound of grain shooting into the bin.

'Hurrah! Bossy, we've won, we've won!' she said to her cow, smothering the words against its warm side.

Jupp came out and walked towards the cowshed with a grin on his face, as though he was coming to have a joke with her at the master's expense. Cherry snatched up her stool, and, with a leap and a dart, retreated behind the farthest cow. There would be an end of her conquest if anyone but page 117herself ever crowed over it. Besides, Mr. Chuckers was her master, and she was loyal.

The cows looked round, astonished at being taken out of their turn. Cows are such Tories. Cherry, milking away, saw, underneath them, Jupp's feet and shadow come in at the door—and go out again.

She never named that sack to anyone but her mother. She was of the mind of the American woman who said that if women wanted any rights, 'they had better take 'em and say nothing about it.'

Chuckers knew he was beaten, nevertheless, and he did not like it. And he had been on his best behaviour long enough to be mortally sick of it, and hate the restraint that his respect for this young girl imposed. Cherry felt sure that a storm was brewing.

It burst. Chuckers was harnessing his horse to take the milk to the butter-factory, when a strap broke, and he called for help to patch up the damage. Cherry happened to be making a noise herself, and did not hear the first call. Then roared the storm!—such a torrent of rough words as she had never heard before in her life—winding up with, 'Come out, I say. Come when I want you, or I'll teach you, I will. Deaf you are!'

Cherry heard perfectly; she would have been page 118deaf indeed if she had not; but she went on quietly doing something that made no noise at all.

'Come out, will you?' roared Chuckers. 'Do you think I can stand here all day? What do you mean by it? Cherry!'

'Yes, Mr. Chuckers,' said Cherry, running out instantly. 'Did you want me?'

'Haven't I been calling you this half-hour, you'— Chuckers caught sight of something in her face that stopped him just in time.

'Oh, I beg your pardon!' said Cherry, quite shocked and surprised. 'I thought you were speaking to the dog. Oh dear!' looking at the fracture. 'You want some string, don't you, and a piercer? I've got a skewer will do.'

She ran off for it, and in five minutes had made things fast, as neatly as possible, speaking as pleasantly as though she had not heard a disagreeable word. Chuckers watched her sullenly, excusing his collapse to himself by thinking that he must get off with the milk now; he would teach her her place next time.

He never roared at her again: Cherry had conquered, so far.

And now it befell that, as little by little it became clear that she had gained her proper footing, and the excitement of her enterprise subsided, she was very nearly conquered herself by page 119its utter dreariness and dulness. What was the use of pushing on with the work and arranging it better, if Mrs. Chuckers did not know how to sit down when it was done? She had slaved so long that, unless she wanted to go out somewhere, she had no object in getting through her tasks before night. I suppose that is one reason why very hard-worked people find time to go out more than their leisurely neighbours do: they have forgotten how to rest at home. Cherry had been accustomed, as a rule, to get through each day's round, and have a piece of time left for something that made progress from day to day. She could make a little time for such things, even here, in winter; but how could she enjoy her book or her sewing, with Mrs. Chuckers 'caddling' on? She tried to coax her to sit down and sew, but her sight was poor; the lamp burned wretchedly, in spite of improved trimming; and the sewing-machine was always getting out of order. Three things were clearly necessary to domestic joy—a new lamp with a shade, a pair of spectacles, and a repaired machine.

Failing these, Cherry bought candles for herself, and would sit up in her loft in a spare hour; but it was bitterly cold there, and dreary too. She had been used to such happy evenings! and sometimes the tears came dropping unawares, in the lonely, cheerless loft. Then she would turn to page 120her unfailing cordial: it was to read over Paul's words to Timothy: 'Thou therefore, my son, endure hardness, as a good soldier of Jesus Christ'; and then to read the list of Paul's own sufferings—the perils of robbers, the perils of waters, the fastings and scourgings—in prisons more frequent, in deaths oft; and long before she reached the end she was ashamed of having made a trouble of anything she had to bear.

'"Thou therefore endure hardness." That means, for me, "Cherry, don't you make a fuss,"' she thought; and she would trip downstairs to get the supper with a happy face.

She began talking about the lamp and spectacles, and Mrs. Chuckers, who had no money allowance of any kind, asked for them one day. Timothy replied, in a favourite formula of his, that when her extravagance had ended in driving them out of house and home she would be satisfied.

'Are you so very poor, Mr. Chuckers?' asked Cherry in a sympathetic tone.

'Poor? I could buy up your brothers, and more like 'em,' he answered indignantly. 'Who told you I was poor?'

'Nobody,' said Cherry. 'People say you must be making a pile. I was only afraid, by what you said, that perhaps something had gone wrong.'

page 121

'I never said nothing of the sort,' said Chuckers.

'Only about the expense of auntie's having glasses. And indeed they would soon pay for themselves, with the work she would be able to do, with glasses and a new light.'

Chuckers grumbled, but yielded, and the evenings were very much better from that time.

'I'm really training auntie to sit down and enjoy herself, at any rate when he's asleep,' Cherry said triumphantly, at home. 'And he has had a bad thumb, and wanted a lot of waiting on, and that was all to the good, for me.'

'Ah! it made him like you better, I expect,'said Frank.

'It made me like him better, anyhow,' said Cherry, 'and that's most of the battle. If only I could! I am sorry for him, very often, for being such a kill-joy to himself and everybody else; but then he goes and does something so nasty, I can only keep from getting angry by not caring either way.'

'What does he do?' asked Willie.

'That's no business of yours,' said Cherry. It cost her nothing to hold her tongue about such things; they were not pleasant topics; but it was a little hard to keep back all the delicious jokes they might have had out of Timothy, had conscience page 122allowed her to make him a family laughing-stock behind his back.

So the winter passed, and Chuckers certainly-improved on the surface, though Cherry feared the old crab stock was unchanged below.