Richmond Palladium (Daily), Volume 34, Number 278, 14 August 1909 — Page 6

2?y - Margaret Beauchamp

RS. LIVINGSTONE, tall, slender and ex

quisite, came slowly down the brick sidewalk. With one hand she held a parasol over her

well-poised head, and by the other she led her

stepson, Robert Egbert Livingstone. His little round face above his spreading white collar suggested a cherub, but not a happy one. The two Budge boys, their little checked shirts open at the neck, sat on their fence and stared at them as they passed. He was also conscious of the eyes of Willy Stevens, opposite, making a shallow pretense of sheltering himself behind a tree. As Mrs. Livingstone reached the long flight of stone steps which led up to her own door, she loosened his hand in order to raise her dress. Robert sat down on the topmost step and folded his hands between his knees. Don't you want to come Into the nice, cool parlor and sit down ? " she asked. "No, thank you, mama." "Do you want to stay out here all alone?" she coaxed. Robert nodded abruptly ; his little pink and white face flushed and contracted. He knew that Willy Stevens was only waiting for her departure to pop out and make a face at him. But he had made a great resolve that afternoon. Mrs. Livingstone passed out of sight, and the expected happened. Willy's "faces" were far-famed, and thi3 was no poor example. Robert saw and marvelled. In the depths of his heart he had meditated responding in kind, but he now recognized the rashness of this idea. His, little hands trembled slightly, and he pressed hjs knees closer upon them. "Hullo, Willy Stevens," he called. From his station at the window of his lonely playroom in the attic, he had noticed the proper form of address, and he used his knowledge with what seemed to him a telling force. The two Budge boys, as with one accord, dropped from their fence and sauntered up. Who knew, there might yet be worthy material in this boy, who, at eight years old, walked hand-in-hand with a woman upon the street. " Huh! what's your name? " pursued Willy in answer. "Robert Egbert Livingstone." "Hullo, Eggy-Egg," returned Willy promptly, and sowed the seeds) of an undying hatred in the bosom of his new acquaintance. "Hullo, Rotten-Egg," he repeated, and looked about for applause. Robert knew that this was rude, but something told him that it would be as well not to tell him so. Instead he hitched slowly down the steps until he was on a level with his audience, and surveyed them with his clear, blue eyes. " Hullo, Tommy Budge," he ventured once more. " Hullo, Bob," came the answer ; and Bob's heart sprang within him for joy. A tall, freckled girl, with long, thin arms and legs, had joined the group, and after her toddled a small person of indefinite sex, eating a banana. Unwilling to address the second Budge- as " Specks," the only title he had ever heard applied to him, Robert turned his attention to the vanguard. ' " Hullo, Rosemary " in addressing a girl he felt less confidence in the " Hullo," and he tempered possible rudeness by his sweetest little smile " I know you, too." " No, you don't," muttered " Specks " under his breath. "I mean I know your name" amended Robert, politely. - , Rosemary made no .'reply. She leaned against the lamp-post, one foot resting on the other instep, and thoughtfully spun her brown straw hat by its elastic. Robert, conscious of her superior age and leadership, knew that the boys were awaiting her verdict. The minutes hurried by. . Dared he hasten matters by some engaging proposal a game of hop-scotch, for instance? In his playroom he had a collection of bits of china, for Stones, which he had been saving up. He would even give one to the terrible Willy. He gazed searchingly at the group in front of him. Willy's voice broke the silence. "His momma holds him by the hand," he jeered. Poor little 'f raid-cat, couldn't walk alone." - Robert had expected this, but his face flushed. He idid not like to have his mother hold his hand, but he had never told her so. He felt that loyalty forbade any response, and he devoted all his energies to swallowing. "Don't you want to go into the nice, cool parlor and sit down?" continued his tormentor. "You'd better go in yourself." Robert rose to the situation, and the lust of battle began to burn in his heart . :" "'Fraid cat! Eggy-egg!" William returned to generalities. "Shut upl" shouted Robert, regardless "of consequences, if his mother overheard such a term upon his lips. , " Eggy-egg 1" Eggy-egg!" Robert leaped to his feet and ran forward. The group scattered instantly, Rosemary and attendant forces taking to the fence, as the safest post of observation. Robert remembered afterward, with a feeling of pride, that it was Air fence that they selected. But at the moment he knew nothing, saw -nothing but Willy, retreating slowly to a point of vantage. A round, brown stone lay directly in Robert's path. With a delirious sense of casting off all restraint, he picked it up and threw it with all his strength. Even as it left his hand, he turned, and without waiting to behold the consequences of his deed, he began to run. He ran as he had never run before. He ran as he had sometimes dreamed of running. Madly up the' long stone steps, stubbing his neat little toes across the porch, through the screen-door, he never knew how, and almost into the arms of his mother, who was coming long the cool, dark hall. " Why. my dear little boy, what is the matter? she asked. : Robert's dreams of comradeship and happiness had vanished in his flight. Undoubtedly he had committed the unpardonable sin. But in all his agony he was still master of himself. "I ran up the steps very fast," he remarked as casually as possible. " ' , Mrs. Livingstone considered such self-evident statements as the natural conversation of children.

"I thought I heard voices," she said. Robert stiU held firmly to his standard of the truth. "I ran up the steps just as fast as I possibly could."

Jie repeated, steadily.

Mrs. Livingstone took him upstairs and washed his little hot face and hands. She gave some advice about keeping very quiet in warm weather, but Robert hardly heard her. His supper was tasteless in his mouth. Why, oh, why had he thrown that stone? What would Rosemary think of him? After all, grown people knew best. He would never break loose and try to form an existence of his own again. Henceforth life held for him nothing but a scries of family excursions, and long, lonely days on his heap of beach-sand in the back-yard. Perhaps, in the morning, Willy would be waiting for him with a stone as big as your head. Even that would be easier to bear than this. But perhaps he ought to tell papa and mama all about it like a little man. When this thought assailed him, hope and courage vanished. He crept over to his mother, and leaned his head against her arm. " I guess I will go to bed now," he murmured in a subdued little voice. If he had known the success of his effort, his little soul would have been even more upset. He had never considered the possibility of hitting Willy; he had not even seen him as he hurled the stone. But success often crowns our least carefully considered efforts, and the stone had struck Willy on the shoulder, in exactly the right spot to prevent him from returning the shot. Such aiming had not been seen in Trendon for these many years. Willy squirmed and twisted, his hand clapped protectingly over the bruised spot. The two Budge boys rose simultaneously from the horse-block. " Feel it? " they inquired judicially. The ethics of the case required interest rather than sympathy. Willy grimaced to imply unheard-of sufferings, heroically -borne. " He's a mean sucker " he began. Rosemary Budge lowered her lean anatomy from the fence, and looked him sternly in the eye. " You began it," she said. The Budge boys stopped whittling and considered this reversal of the situation open-mouthed. Willy kicked at Xthe gravel in the road. " It's your own fault. He didn't say a thing to you," Rosemary finished the question, and settled her hat firmly over her forehead. " Rosemary ! Rose-mary ! " called Mrs. Budge, appearing on the piazza of the green house with a baby in her arms. " Supper will be ready in five minutes." And the Budge family streamed joyfully homeward, beginning on the narrative of the day's events at the gate. "The little boy next door can throw like vrythingl He hit Willy (Stevens right on the " Willy, deserted on the scene of his defeat, heard the story of his misdemeanor and its punishment clearly and candidly stated. He thrust both hands into his pockets and turned homeward, getting a poor consolation by depositing a large amount of gravel upon his own front steps. Meantime the little boy next door lay on his bed and gazed open-eyed into the dusk. Over and over again he lived through that afternoon. Once more he saw his prospects spread fair before him. Once more he felt the shortlived madness in which he had wrecked the possibilities of a lifetime. He sighed deeply, and the pillow grew hotter and hotter, and less and less adapted to his head. Suddenly he felt a longing to express himself in prayer. He slipped out of bed and stood in the center of the room, searching a proper oratory. Moved by some dim Biblical suggestion, he scurried over to the washstand and turned on the faucet until the bowl was full.. Then he kneeled before it. "Dear Lord," he began, and then stopped, fearing undue familiarity. That was rather the way to address grandmothers. " Our Father, Who art in Heaven, I want a tall, thin sister and two brothers. I don't mind if they have freckles. I want " he hesitated " I want a little brother and a little sister, too, please, to wheel in a baby-carriage, all by myself. I have been very bad, but I didn't know I was going to be. If you will, I will stand still and let Willy Stevens throw a stone" at me, and I will shut my eyes. I cannot wait much longer for my brothers and sisters, because I feel so dreadfully. And I think I think mama would like them, too. And this I ask for Jesus' sake. Amen ! " He rose and let the water out of the bowl. Then he stole back to bed and drew the sheet up close under his chin. A cool breeze began to come in at the window, and the darkness stopped pressing its fingers on his eyeballs, and grew all soft and quiet. And in his sleep his hands and feet twitched slightly, like a little dog's, who dreams that he is running very fast. Robert awoke to an impression of great events. He had made a business arrangement with God, and he, at least, would live up to his side of it. He rose with the desire strong upon him to go out and meet Willy Stevens and redeem his vow. Lessons took place as usual, while the sound of children's voices tantalized him from the street., Mrs. Livingstone was fond of teaching, and she considered it a good plan to keep children's minds occupied. It was a quarter before eleven when she closed the volume of Reprints from Great Masters and put it away. Robert came and stood in front of her, his hands behind his back. " I think I will go out now," he said. His heart beat hard. " Out for a walk? " she asked. He wondered whether it was wrong not to tell her that it was not exactly for a walk ; but this was not the time to tell of his sin and the great atonement that there was to be. He hurried out into the hall for his hat. She swept after him, tall and graceful, and, taking the hat from his hands, she adjusted it carefully and passed the elastic under his chin. A shade of misery passed across his face. She raised his little round chin in her white hand and kissed him on both cheeks. "Delia will give you your dinner," she said, as she turned upstairs to make ready for a day in town. Robert went slowly down the first flight of stone steps, and then paused on the landing and looked about him. It was as he had feared. The street was empty. Suddenly the door of the green house opened and a procession streamed out. Rosemary, her hat set firmly over her eyes, carried a large market basket in one hand, and from the other swung the small person of indefinite sex, whose face was almost featureless in the joy that it expressed. Then came the two Budge boys, each with a large tin pail. As they reached the foot of his steps, Rosemary looked up and nodded. " Come on," he thought she said. Could it be possible? He took a step forward, and then hung back. "We're going to Bad Man's lot Don't you want to come?" - " Come on," echoed the Budge boys. " Don't stop for anything to eat" continued Rosemary, with a tact which should win her many lovers. "We're going to call, for Maudie Winslow. We've got jelly sandwiches for everybody." Robert hesitated no longer. A wave of joy seemed to lift him off his feet, and he was with them. In after life the memory of that moment brought back to him a madness of delight like nothing else that he had ever known. Bad Man's lot was a piece of unclaimed land standing at the head of the street It belonged to an unsettled estate, and a tramp, a really bad-looking man, had once been seen going across it There the Budges, always bold and progressive, had established a play-house. Robert knew

every feature of it from the broken oil-stove that leaned against the roots of a big maple tree, and the row of battered tins and baking-powder cans, to the piano, chalked in keys upon a flat stone. He had made a solitary expedition there, soon after his arrival in Trendon, in the hope that he-might establish some similar attraction in his back-yard. " Hurry ! " commanded Rosemary ; " Maudie may have got her clean dress on, and then she can't go." Robert took the basket from Rosemary, and hurried along beside her. It swung nearly to the ground, and the perspiration stood on his forehead by the time he reached the next house. Maudie came hastening out to meet them in starched pink gingham. "I can't go," she faltered; "momma's just got me cleaned up. They contemplated her neat brown curls with admiration and despair. " I'll go up and ask her," suggested Rosemary. Maudie shook her head. "Mommer doesn't want dirt tracked through the house." Robert's eyes opened rather wide, but the Budges, in complete grasp of the situation, knew that no rudeness was intended. " Bring down your dirty dress, and I'll put it on in the hall," continued Rosemary, undaunted.

Rosemary sprang up. " All right I'll just play ' America ' on the piano, and then we'll disperse the meeting." She seated herself cross-legged before the stone. " The company will please rise and sing two versesonly two, please, we're going to the store." Robert supported Flora to her feet, and, opening his mouth like a robin, sang wildly, weirdly, joyfully to the end. It was not at all a hard matter to sing, he discovered. " Pack up the things. Rob and I will carry Flora until she gets awake." As they stumbled up the steps of the corner grocery, and stood before the glass cases, Robert's heart beat so that he could hardly speak. He laid the ten-cent piece on the counter, and gazed appealingly at the cushiony lady in a black checked Mother Hubbard who stood behind it The cushiony lady was not as pleasant as she looked. " Well, what do you want little boy ? " she snapped. But Robert's saz-oir ti'tr was at an end. Again Rosemary came to the fore. " One candy banana, and five taffy-on-a-sticks, one chocolate mouse for Flora, one peppermint, and four cents' worth of chocolate creams that makes twelve. And we'd like them in a striped paper bag." , A tremor of agony ran over Robert

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THEY CLOSED, THEY FELL, THEY ROLLED, THEY SCRATCHED, THEY BIT. UNCONSCIOUSLY, THEY ROARED SOMEWHAT.

"It's in the wash, and momma is letting down my old brown gingham." There was a pause before the Budge boys made a final suggestion. " Try crying," said they. . "Wait until the sewing-machine stops," cautioned Rosemary. " Oh, dear ! Oh, dear-r-r-r o-o-o-o-o-h de-de-de-dear," began Maudie. The Budge boys set down their pails and regarded her sympathetically. " Oh-h, dear-r, dear-r-r-r-r-r ! " A window above opened sharply, and a thin-faced woman looked out. " What's the matter now? " It seemed an accustomed formula. " I want to go-0-0-0-0 ! I want to go so-o-o-o 1 " sobbed Maudie. " We're going on a picnic," Rosemary took up the burden of explanation. " We brought Maudie's lunch with us, and we were going to surprise her. And now she has got her clean dress on." " I suppose she can put an apron on over it can't she?" And the window shut with a bang. Maudie, recognizing this as- full permission, dashed into the house, leaving the screen-door wide open, and returned with her arms thrust into the sleeves of a gingham apron, bringing two bananas and a paper bag of doughnuts. They stored away the lunch in the shade of a high rock, and the boys were despatched for water from a muddy pool at one end of the lot while the girls searched the dumping-ground at the opposite end for new treasures. They returned in triumph with a rusty colander and a dishpan with a hole in it. Rosemary commenced operations at once by washing their stock of dishes, and then the handkerchiefs of the entire fellowship, while the boys collected material for a magnificent fire, which, Rosemary had it distinctly understood from the beginning, was not to be lighted. Robert seized an early pportunity to get behind a tree and remove the hated elastic from his chin, that his hat might set freely askew, like the other boys. He enchanted the small person, who turned out to be named Flora, and she followed persistently in his footsteps, and finally fell asleep with her head against him, while Rosemary told long, rambling stories after dinner. About this time a cloud began to steal across Robert'spleasure. The Budges had taken him in their midst and treated him magnificently; Maudie, although an invited guest, had brought doughnuts and bananas. What could he do that he might not be found wanting? Without disturbing Flora, he fumbled in his pockets for the Canadian ten-cent piece which his father had given him. as a sample of the currency of other nations. As a rather drowsy pause stole over the company, he laid it on his open palm and held it out with his engaging little smile. " I I'm having a very nice time," he remarked politely; "but when we get through, could we could we go down to the store?" COPYRIGITT sgaS

" Rosemary it's only ten," he whispered. " Six cents' worth for five two times is twelve," she answered. Robert relapsed into silent bewilderment Mrs. Pirson stolidly arranged the order on the counter before them. In the very act of reaching for the striped paper bag, she stopped and caught up the ten cents angrily. " That's not good money," she said. Robert desired instant death. Rosemary gasped. Maudie set up a wail. " What's the trouble ? " asked a nasal voice, and a thin man in a blue vest shuffled forward. He looked at their eager faces, and the scowl on his face seemed to deepen. Robert grasped Flora about the waist and prepared for instant flight " What's the trouble? " asked the old man again. " Canadian money," snapped his better half. " What's this ? " He waved a lean hand over the array of delicacies. " Twelve cents' worth," replied Mrs. Pirson, succinctly. " Call it eleven," responded Mr. Pirson, and shuffled away. Airs. Pirson, with a toss of her head, abstracted the one candy banana, and snapped the ten cents into the tilL Robert stood on the grocery steps and distributed his treasures royally. Flora consumed the chocolate mouse by slow degrees, beginning at the tail. Each one of the older ones distorted the face with a taffy-on-a-stick, and occasionally pulling them off to compare progress, they strolled leisurely . homeward under the broiling sun. They left Maudie at her gate, the pink gingham onlv the worse by a few spots for the day's adventures. Then Robert escorted the Budges home. Mrs. Budge, comfortably rocking on the piazza, beamed upon them alL Flora scrambled into her mother's lap and put her forefinger into her mouth. A still smaller person raised a wail of protest from the floor, and Mrs. Budge made room for him. too. "I should think you little folks would be just about ready for some lemonade," she remarked, as she continued to rock. - " Any lemons ?" demanded Rosemary. " I expect so ; I ordered some. You run out into the kitchen and wait on yourselves." Rosemary tied a big gingham apron around Robert's : neck, and with no hateful preliminaries of hand-washing, they set to work on the lemons. They carried a glass to Mrs. Budge, who praised it highly and shared it with the occupants of her lap. They sat in a tow on the edge of the piazza, and sucked delightfully at straws that wouldn't work. But the moments flew, and at last Robert bravely rose, shook Mrs. Budge's hand with great formality, bade good-bys of suppressed feeling to the boys, kissed Flora, raised his hat at the gate, and faced the world once more. The glorious madness of the day was still throbbing in his veins, and the tmaecustomed variety of diet had not yet begun to operate upon his system. He came to earth only enough to realize vaguely that he had a home to which he must go, and a vow that

must be performed before he could enter on a state where such joys as these would he his daily lot Then Willy Stevens appeared before him in the flesh. Willy had not pleasant associations with Robert, and seemed bent on hastily crossing the street Robert hastened out into the middle of the road and' stood before him. You throw a stone at me," he said. To Willv this appeared the basest of taunts. "Won't." he answered, gruffly. " Yes. throw a stone," said Robert. " I'm going to stand still and shut my eves." It was a great moment Get out" responded Willy, with an uncomplimentary title. Robert resolved to warn Rosemary against the companionship. He was anxious to get the business over. " Yes, please do, and then we won't talk to each other any more." he suggested. He was standing quite near Willy, who responded to this proposal by a violent slap in the face. There was no word of this in the bond. Robert trembled violently a he doubled up his little fist and let it out at Willy. Thev closed, they fell, they rolled, they scratched, they bit. t'ncomciously, also, they roared somewhat The screen-door of the green house banged. Father Budge, weary with his day's work, hastened down the steps and into the middle of the road, lie picked up the combatants, set them on their feet, bestowed a box on the ear of each, and returned to his interrupted meal. Mr. and Mrs. Livingstone, seated at their beautifully appointed table, heard the commotion in the street, but V. not for a moment did they imagine that it could possibly concern them. Mrs. Livingstone, just returned from a long day's shopping, supposed that Robert had been put to bed, according to directions, after his early supper. The maids had shirked the responsibility of telling her that Master Robert had disappeared with some children about eleven o'clock, and had not been heard of since. Suddenly in the doorway appeared a small, torn, streaked, crumpled little figure, its face almost obscured by the dirty and blood-stained handkerchief pressed against its nose. " Please excuse me, mama," remarked the vision, removing his hat, " but I can't open the drawer where my clean pocket handkerchiefs are. Mrs. Livingstone rose with a cry, and stooped to take him in her arms. Mr. Livingstone, with an inkling of the true state of the case, reserved his sympathy. "Robert, oh. Robert, darling, what has happened to you?" she cried. " Willy Stevens and I " he began. Mrs. Livfngst one. with flashing eyes, began an arraignment of Willy, but Robert held up a scratched and dirty little hand for silence. " I fought," he said ; " I fought" Mr. Livingston turned to the window with what sounded suspiciously like a chuckle. Mrs. Livingstone stumbled to her feet Robert unburdened his heart The mixed details of God and picnics and stones and little sisters were not clear to his own racked little nerves, and conveyed absolutely no impression to anybody else. It all ended in Mrs. Livingstone picking him up bodily in her arms and carrying him upstairs. Mr. Livingstone calmly finished his salmon and green peas, and settled himself to smoke. From time to time an expression of amusement flitted over his face. There was a rustle of skirts, and Mrs. Livingstone burst in, her hands pressed tightly together. "Can yon forgive me, oh, can you ever forgive me? she cried. .. Mr. Livingtsone merely looked sympathetic and said nothing. "I forgot him ; I forgot all about him," she explained. Mr. Livingstone settled her comfortably on the sofa. " Don't you think we are taking it a bit too seriously ? " he suggested. "That dreadful Willy oh. that dreadful, Jreodfui boy!" Mr. Livingstone restrained an inclination to say that he was much obliged to Willy. Mrs. Livingstone, finding him not inclined to take up arms, revenged herself by turning the situation against him. f This is a horrid neighborhood. I always thought so." "Suppose we send him to his grandmother's for good, long visit" he replied. Mrs. Livingstone's face lighted. "Are you sure it would be all right?" she asked. Mr. Livingstone lit his cigar again. "I think it would be the best thing all around," h said. Robert was never quite clear in his mind about that visit to his grandmother. It did not seem polite to look upon it as a penance, but he did wish she would not cry in his neck, and squeeze him so hard when she hugged. At last one dav when the leaves rustled as you walked through them, Mrs. Bronson put on her black bonnet and -took Robert to the station. On the cindery platform they encountered a neighbor, with whom she sank on a convenient settee. Mrs. Bronson was a large, soft woman, not unlike the lady at the candy store; her face was thickly wrinkled, and she had faded-blue eyes, and her, mouth turned chronically down at the corners. The neighbor was small and hook-nosed and sallow. They both looked at Robert and then at each other, raised their eyebrows, and sighed deeplv. " Does he know yet ? asked the neighbor in a sepulchral whisper. Mrs. Bronson glanced apprehensively at Robert, bat he was feeling alternately in his upper right-hand pocket for his ticket, and his lower left-hand pocket quite absorbed. She bent voluminously over toward Mrs. Laoman. "Mrs. Livingstone didn't wish he should be told Is she exploded behind her hand. They turned simultaneously, looked at Robert, and then at each other, sighed deeply, and shook their beads. Then the train whistled, and Mrs. Bronson, cut short in some incoherent remarks about " not allowed to keep the poor little dear." and " of course it wouldn't be the same, now," kissed Robert loudly and often, and. to his undying disgust placed him in charge of both bralnrman and conductor. At the station in town papa was waiting for him, but mama was nowhere in sight. They went home by trolley, which was always delightful. Robert strained his eyes for the first glimpse of the house. Mr. Livingstone felt strangely silent and embarrassed as he passed along the street with his little son at his side. His masculine desire to make a plain announcement had been curbed by the many subtle precautions laid upon him by his wife. As Robert climbed eagerly up the long, stone

steps, a jeer which seemed to contain the words. : . r i, 1 l t . t t -

joim ioiiowcu lum irom lac ouusc

the street unheeded. In the hall were still no signs of mama. " Go upstairs and see her, Robert" said his fathers " she she has something to show you," he added, rather feebly. ' Robert, his little heart torn by a former memory, rushed upstairs. At the door he was greeted by a sharp little wail. - .- - That night Robert, advanced to the dignity of putting himself to bed. kneeled down and gave grateful yet dignified thanks for the partial fulfilment of his reqnest, XL this rather formless representation of what ought to hav; been a tall, thin sister. Then, not without hopes of thf two brothers with freckles, his little heart in uxafiett marvel at the ways of Providence, he climbed sntn bed

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By T. JENKINS MAINS