Tess of the Storm Country | Page 9

changed from light to dark with passing emotions.
Myra bent her brows as she examined Tessibel closer. The skin was
clean and shone with the glossiness of much soap. The low brow was
covered with small wet ringlets, which turned and twisted here and
there in luxurious confusion. Over the shoulders, hidden by a soiled
calico blouse, the copper colored mass hung in dripping flame-like
waves.
"You air pretty," said Myra slowly, "but ye air so dum dirty no one can
ever see it. Why ain't you washed up like that every day?"
"Never knowed how before. Didn't see nothin' to keep clean in my
face."
As Tessibel spoke she stood before the glass looking at her own
image--spying upon the prettiness which Myra said was there.
"This hair air like red snakes," she gasped passionately. "Just like the
snakes that eats the little birds in the spring. In the sun their backs air
red like this--and this--and this."
She was angrily tearing at the beautiful tightly curled ringlets with but
one thought dominating her brain. Students never liked red haired girls
with eyes which looked like copper.
"Don't," ordered Myra, catching the rough hands as they pulled at the
profusion of redness. "Don't, ye air tearin' it out by the roots, and it

looks like--like the sun when it air goin' down in one ball of fire. It air
beautiful."
Beautiful! beautiful! Tessibel caught her breath and looked at Myra
with a yellowish glint, born of a new emotion in her eyes. Was the
brat's mother making fun of her? All her short life had this been
Tessibel's portion. Ben Letts had followed her along the ragged rocks
over which her bare feet flew with the swiftness of eagle's wings and
when he found she could not be induced to stop he would shout in
defiance, "Brick top, red head," and such names that went deep into the
sensitive little heart. When she reached home she would tear at the
curls and cut them fiercely with the knife which her father used to skin
his fish and large eels. Yet nature would send more and more of the
burnished gold to adorn Tessibel's head, and not until to-night had she
ever heard one word in praise of it.
The reformation had begun. Tessibel went again to the soap and water
and Myra looking through the crack of the door, saw Tess dragging
madly at her hair, sopping it first in the pan and then in the deep bucket
which Ezra used to give the pig their swill. Once Myra saw the mass of
gold disappear into the pail, and when Tessibel came again to view she
was sputtering, coughing, and blowing the cold water from her nose
and mouth.
"Won't be much left if ye keeps on at yer hair that way," called Myra
grimly, "but the soap air good for cleanin' it. There air other days and
nights, too," she went on sarcastically, "and it air almost midnight. Yer
Daddy'll be here soon. Wonder if the game warden air out to-night?"
As if in answer to her question they heard the dipping of oars and a
little later a boat was dragged to its moorings on the shore. "Satisfied"
Longman entered with his son and Ben Letts.
"Daddy were tired and didn't come for me?" asked Tessibel.
"Your Daddy didn't come child," replied the elder Longman, whilst
Ben Letts stood with his squint eyes lowered. He had an exquisite
feeling within him, longing for the sight of the girl after she had heard

their news.
"I air goin' home to Daddy--I ain't afeared to go home alone," she said
stoutly and defiantly, for Ben Letts made a move to accompany her. "I
ain't afeared of the night things, nor nothin' that crawls nor flies. Ye
knows I ain't afeared, Myra."
"Ye ain't goin' home to-night, Tessibel," said Long man, "for yer father
ain't there."
At first Tessibel didn't comprehend. She thought of the care which was
taken to keep the fish fresh for the market. Daddy was putting the
pickerel and numerous eels in the blind fish cars until they could be
cleaned. She looked into "Satisfied" Longman's face.
"Air he a carin' for the fish?"
Longman shook his head in the negative.
"Where air he then?"
Tessibel's voice was sharp and penetrating. It awoke Mrs. Longman
upstairs and the infant in the box beside the rope cot.
"He air gone to prison," put in Ezra opening and shutting his eyes, and
licking his thick lips with his red tongue. "He air where ye won't see
him to scratch his face when ye goes into a tantrum. He air in prison."
The bronze eyes widened and lengthened till the very fear in them
startled her companions. The tall, slight figure