Tess of the Storm Country | Page 6

was her ideal of manhood--he was as far above her
as the learned minister was above her own squatter father. Her heart
seemed to almost stop beating as she sprang headlong into "Daddy's
bed" and covered herself with the ragged blanket.
Only when she heard her father pounding at the door did she lift her
head. She jumped swiftly from the bed to let him in. No thought of
supper for him had entered her mind. He looked his hunger as he noted
the absence of a fire, and spoke rather mournfully, but Tess cut him
short. The lithe young form bounded squarely upon the bible-back of
the fisherman. She drew back his shaggy head, her bright wide eyes
shining into Skinner's and a low voice deepened by the first arousal of
womanly emotion which had ever come knowingly into the young life,
was murmuring to him.

"I loves ye, Daddy, I do. What does ye care for supper when I loves ye
like this. Daddy, I could--just bite ye hard, that I could, I love ye so."
"Get off my back, Tess," ordered Skinner, trying to loosen her fingers
from his hair. "I air tired, Brat, and there be nettin' to-night. Ye air goin'
to Mis' Longman's till we get back."
"Won't get off till ye kisses me square on the bill, Daddy," replied the
girl softly, "square where I does my eatin's." And square on "the bill"
the girl got the caress--and then eagerly hastened to fry the inevitable
fish.
"I air coming after ye to Longman's when the nettin's over," broke in
Orn Skinner presently, his mouth full of bread and fish, "and ye'd best
duck yer head in the lake, Tess, afore ye go. Yer face has a week's dirt
caked on it."
Tessibel allowed her red lips to spread wide in a loving smile.
"Ye air a durn good Daddy, ye air, and I loves ye, if my face be dirty."
She rose quickly and came to his side.
"Daddy," she began, twisting his big head so her eyes met his, "Can't I
go nettin' to-night? I air a good helper, ain't I, Daddy?"
Orn Skinner dreaded the wheedling tone in Tessibel's voice and the
pleading in the eyes so like her mother's. He dropped his gaze upon his
plate and slowly shook his head.
"Nope, Tess, ye air goin' to Longman's. Don't ... now there be a kiss ...
sit down and eat ... that air a good brat."
The last ejaculation was brought forth by Tess herself. She had turned
back to her place at the table and had complacently begun to eat the
crisp, brown fish.
"And ye ain't to stay on the ragged rocks, nuther, Tess," cautioned
Skinner, rising from the table. "Ye be a good Tess. Scoot along now."

The fisherman moved lumberingly to the water's edge, pushing his boat
into the lake, and stepped in. Thrusting his powerful head down
between his shoulders, he pulled lazily away at the oars until he lost
sight of the shore on which stood the small silent figure in the fast
gathering gloom.
* * * * *
Tess did not fancy netting nights. She always feared that something
might happen to her father. But she knew, too, that they could not live,
even meagerly, through the long winter unless the nets were used. So
this night after she had received many kisses, "square on the bill," she
watched her father's bent shoulders, rising and falling with the motion
of the oars as long as she could see him, and turning, scudded through
the underbrush which grew in profusion near the forest--up to the
rugged rocks toward the Longmans' hut. She slid down beside a large
stone as she heard the lapping of oars below her on the lake, and knew
that "Satisfied" Longman and his son Ezra were going to join the others
at Jake Brewer's shanty.
She was alone under the heavens, alone with the eagles and sleepy
twittering birds--she could think of what had been forced upon her that
day. She bitterly regretted the tears shed before Ezra, and she must
never, never again look at the student Graves. She felt that to see his
face, even from a distance, would cause her to drop dead before him.
Every muscle tingled and her eyes burned with unshed tears. She had
never dared to speak even to his sister, the pretty Teola Graves, who
fluttered about with pink ribbons among her curls and wore high heels
on her shoes.
Suddenly Tess opened her lips and sent ringing over the lake in
glorious tones of pathos, the hymn she loved best,
"Rescue the perishin', Care for the dyin'."
* * * * *
Tessibel knew what it meant to almost perish from the cold.