to
come out--but would she still wait? Did the thousand year limit still
hold?
There was just a hint of fatigue in his voice, which awakened all the
maternal instincts in Pearl, and made her heart very tender to him.
"I will wait--forever," said Pearl.
"Just until tomorrow," came back the voice--"just till tomorrow--and it
will be fine tomorrow--won't it, Pearl! Say it will be fine."
"Finer still," she replied, with her cheeks like the early roses in June.
The day went by on satin wings--with each minute so charged with
happiness that Pearl could well believe that heaven had slipped down to
earth, and that she was walking the streets of the new Jerusalem. She
sang as she worked in the house, her sweet, ribbony voice filling the
room with a gladness and rapture that made her mother, with her
mystical Celtic temperament almost apprehensive.
"She's a queer girl, is Pearlie," she said that night, when Pearl had gone
upstairs to arbitrate a quarrel which had broken out between Bugsey
and Danny as to whose turn it was to split the kindling wood. "Day
about" it had been until Bugsey had urged that it be changed to "week
about," and the delicate matter in dispute now was as to the day on
which the week expired. Danny, who had been doing the kindling, was
certain that the date of expiry had arrived, but Bugsey's calendar set the
day one day later, and the battle raged, with both sides ably argued, but
unfortunately not listened to by the opposing forces.
"She's a queer child, is Pearlie," said Mrs. Watson, as she beat up the
bread-batter downstairs, "she's that light-hearted and free from care,
and her eighteen years old. She's like somethin' that don't belong on
earth, with her two big eyes shinin' like lamps, and the way she sings
through the house, settin' the table or scourin' the milk pails or mendin'
a coat for the boys--it don't seem natural. She's too happy, whatever its'
about, and it makes me afraid for her. She's the kind that sees nothin'
wrong, and won't see trouble comin' till its too late. I often feel afraid
she's too good and happy for this world. She's always been the same,
liltin' and singin' and makin' everyone happy around her."
Jimmy was washing his face in the enamel basin which stood on a box
below the mirror, and looking around with a dripping wet face, felt
with a wildy swinging motion of his arms for the towel. When he had
secured it, and all danger of soapsuds getting into his eyes was
removed, he joined the conversation.
"Gosh, Ma!" he said, "you don't know Pearl, she's not the saint you take
her for. I'll bet the Tucker kids don't think she's too good to live. Not
much! They know she can hold up her end of a row as well as any one.
When she found out they had killed the cat they got from us, and
tanned the skin to make a rim on a cap, you should have seen Pearl.
She just cut loose on the two of them, and chased them through the
sloughs and up the road clear home--larrupin' them with a binder whip,
as fast as she could swing it--the yowls out of them would have done
your heart good!"
Mrs. Watson stopped her work, with her floury hands raised in
consternation.
"God's mercy," she cried, "did Pearl do that--and both of them bigger'n
her. Ain't it a wonder they did not turn on her?"
"Turn"---Jimmy cried scornfully, "Turn--is it? They were too busy
runnin'. Gosh--they would'a flew if they knew how. Served them
right--they knew blame well they deserved it, for Pearl would never
have given them the cat if they hadn't worked it so smooth. They told
her they wanted a strain of Tiger in their cats, for all of theirs were
black--and Pearl, gave them our fine young Tom--and they promised all
sorts to be good to him--and when Pearl saw his skin on their caps, and
put it to them, they said they hadn't said it was a 'strain of tiger for their
cats' they wanted, but a 'strand of tiger for their caps'--that's what made
Pearl so mad." Mr. Donald said Pearl did quite right, and he told the
Tuckers they were the making of great politicians--they were so smart
at getting out of things. But Gosh, you should have seen Pearl! She
finished the job off right, too, you bet, and made them put up slab at the
school and did the printin' on it in red ink. You can see it there,--they
have had to print it over once or twice. We all know the words off by
heart:
Young Tom, Tiger cat, Owned by
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