Joseph Crosby Lincoln

“ Phillips shook his head. "Nevertheless, Jed," he declared, "I can't understand why you did it and I never—never shall forget it. Neither will Ruth. She will tell you so to-morrow."
Jed was frightened. "No, no, no, she mustn't," he cried, quickly. "I—I don't want her to talk about it. I—I don't want anybody to talk about it. Please tell her not to, Charlie! Please! It's— it's all such foolishness anyhow. Let's forget it."
"It isn't the sort of thing one forgets easily. ”

“ I can't have Captain Hunniwell know of our trouble. I came here to Orham, where no one knew me, to avoid that very thing. At home there in Middleford I felt as if every person I met was staring at me and saying, 'Her brother is in prison.' I was afraid to have Babbie play with the other children. I was—but there, I won't talk about it. I can't. And I cannot have it begin again here. I'll go away first. We will all go away, out West, anywhere— anywhere where we can be—clean—and like other people. ”

“ Jed's imagination, the imagination which was quite beyond the comprehension of those who called him the town crank, grasped it all—or, at least, all its essentials. He nodded slowly.
"I see," he said. "Yes, yes, I see. . . . Hum."
"Of course, any one must see. And to go away, to some city or town where we are not known—where could we go? What should we live on? And yet we can't stay here; there is nothing for Charles to do." ”

“ Certainly Phineas, his hat fallen off and under foot, his scanty gray hair tousled and his pugnacious chin beard bristling, was funny to look at. And the idea of calling Jed Winslow a "Wall Street bloodsucker" was the cream of burlesque. But to Jed himself it was all tragedy, deep and dreadful. He made one more desperate plea.
"But, Phin," he begged, "think of his—his sister, Charlie's sister. What'll become of her and—and her little girl?"
Phineas snorted. "His sister," he sneered. "All right, I'll think about her all right. She's another stuck-up that don't speak to common folks. ”

“ Jed, once more absorbed in gloomy musings—not quite as gloomy, perhaps; somehow the clouds had not descended quite so heavily upon his soul since Babbie's visit—looked up to see there standing behind him Maud Hunniwell and Charlie Phillips.
He sprang to his feet. "Eh?" he cried, delightedly. "Well, well, so you're back, Charlie, safe and sound. Well, well!"
Phillips grasped the hand which Jed had extended and shook it heartily.
"Yes, I'm back," he said.
"Um-hm. . . . And—er—how did you leave Uncle Sam? Old feller's pretty busy these days, 'cordin' to the papers." ”

“ It was ridiculous enough, of course, but Jed did not feel like smiling. The bitterness of the little man's final curse was not humorous. Neither was the heartbreak in his tone when he spoke of his boy. Jed felt no self-reproach; he had advised Leander just as he might have advised his own son had his life been like other men's lives, normal men who had married and possessed sons. He had no sympathy for Phineas Babbitt's vindictive hatred of all those more fortunate than he or who opposed him, or for his silly and selfish ideas concerning the war. ”

“ I told you so, Jed. And he has. Mr. Barber, the cashier, told me yesterday that Charles was the best man they had had in the bank for years. And every time I meet Captain Hunniwell he stops to shake hands and congratulates me on having such a brother. And they like him, not only because he is successful in the bank, but for himself; so many people have told me so. Why, for the first time since we came to Orham I begin to feel as if I were becoming acquainted, making friends. ”

“ Captain Sam Hunniwell and his daughter were hugely tickled.
"Jed's got a girl at last," crowed the captain. "I'd about given up hope, Jed. I was fearful that the bloom of your youth would pass away from you and you wouldn't keep company with anybody. You're so bashful that I know you'd never call on a young woman, but I never figured that one might begin callin' on you. Course she's kind of extra young, but she'll grow out of that, give her time."
Maud Hunniwell laughed merrily, enjoying Mr. Winslow's confusion. "Oh, the little girl is only the bait, Father," she declared. ”

“ Armstrong and Barbara, who had followed him, watched these facial gymnastics, the lady with astonishment, her daughter with expectant interest.
"I know what he is doing that for, Mamma," she whispered. "It's because he's thinking and don't know whether to whistle or not. When he thinks AWFUL hard he's almost sure to whistle—or sing."
"Hush, hush, Babbie!"
"Oh, he won't hear us. He hardly ever hears any one when he's thinking like that. And see, Mamma, he IS going to whistle." ”

“ Even Charlie was surprised. But you're glad, for my sake, aren't you, Jed?"
"Eh? . . . Yes, oh, yes! I'm—I'm glad."
"I hope you are. If it were not for poor Charlie's going away and the anxiety about him and his problem I should be very happy— happier than I believed I ever could be again. You're glad of that, aren't you, Jed?"
"Eh? . . . Yes, yes, of course. . . ."
"And you will congratulate me? You like Major Grover? Please say you do."
Jed rose slowly from his chair. He passed a hand in dazed fashion across his forehead.
"Yes," he said, again. "The major's a fine man. . . . ”

“ Of course Charlie Phillips had not stolen the four hundred dollars. Had not he, Jed Winslow, loudly proclaimed to Ruth Armstrong that he knew her brother to be a fine young man, one who had been imprudent, it is true, but much more sinned against than sinning and who would henceforth, so he was willing to swear, be absolutely upright and honest? Of course the fact that a sum of money was missing from the Orham National Bank, where Phillips was employed, did not necessarily imply that the latter had taken it. ”

“ Grover laughed. "I'll be hanged if I do!" he observed.
"Eh! . . . Well, I tell you; you sit down and let Babbie talk Petunia to you a minute or two. I'll be right back."
He hurried into the back shop, closing the door after him. A moment later Grover caught a glimpse of him crossing the back yard and disappearing over the edge of the bluff.
"Where in the world has the fellow gone?" he soliloquized aloud, amused although impatient. Barbara took it upon herself to answer. Uncle Jed had left the caller in her charge and she felt her responsibilities. ”

“ And there'll be lots and lots of the flying men—the what- do-you-call-'ems—aviators, and officers in uniform—and all sorts. What fun! I'm just crazy about uniforms!"
Her eyes snapped. Jed, in his quiet way, seemed excited, too. He was gazing absently out of the window as if he saw, in fancy, a procession of aircraft flying over Orham flats.
"They'll be flyin' up out there," he said, musingly. "And I'll see 'em—I will. Sho!"
Miss Hunniwell regarded him mischievously. "Jed," she asked, "would you like to be an aviator?" ”

“ Barbara laughed.
"You're joking again, Uncle Jed," she said. "That kind of aeroplane couldn't have any tire trouble, 'cause it hasn't got any tires."
Mr. Winslow appeared to reflect. "That's so," he admitted, "but I don't know as we'd ought to count too much on that. I remember when Gabe Bearse had brain fever."
This was a little deep for Babbie, whose laugh was somewhat uncertain. She changed the subject.
"Oh!" she cried, with a wiggle, "there's a caterpillar right here on this bench with us, Uncle Jed. He's a fuzzy one, too; I can see the fuzz; the moon makes it shiny." ”

“ In all his long acquaintance with Jed Winslow he had never seen him like this.
"Why—why, Jed!" he stammered. But Jed was not listening. He strode across the room and seized his visitor by the arm.
"You go home, Sam Hunniwell," he ordered. "Go home and think— THINK, I tell you. All your life you've had just what I haven't. You married the girl you wanted and you and she were happy together. You've been looked up to and respected here in Orham; folks never laughed at you or called you 'town crank.' You've got a daughter and she's a good girl. ”

“ Jed sniffed. "Um . . . ye-es," he drawled. "If I was more worldly-minded I'd take up a collection, probably. Well, how's all the United States Army; the gold lace part of it, I mean?"
His visitor laughed again. "Those that I know seem to be very well and happy," she replied.
"Um . . . yes . . . sartin. They'd be happy, naturally. How could they help it, under the circumstances?"
He began picking over an assortment of small hardware, varying his musical accompaniment by whistling instead of singing. His visitor looked at him rather oddly.
"Jed," she observed, "you're changed." ”

“ Gabe Bearse awfully funny?"
Jed sighed. "Yes," he said, "Gabe's as funny as a jumpin' toothache."
The young lady regarded him doubtfully. "I see," she said, after a moment, "you're joking again. I wish you'd tell me when you're going to do it, so Petunia and I would know for sure."
"All right, I'll try not to forget to remember. But how did you guess I was jokin' this time?"
"'Cause you just had to be. A jumping toothache isn't funny. ”

“ Captain Sam laughed uproariously. "You must be pretty bad then, Jed," he declared. "Anybody who disagrees with Bluey Batcheldor must be pretty nigh the limit."
Jed nodded. "Um-hm," he said, reflectively, "pretty nigh, but not quite. Always seemed to me the real limit was anybody who agreed with him."
So Jed, with Babbie on his knee, sat in the corner of the bay window looking out on the street, while Mrs. Armstrong and her brother and Miss Hunniwell played and sang and the captain applauded vigorously and loudly demanded more. ”

“ Phillips made no comment on this illuminating statement and there was another interval of silence, broken only by the hum and rasp of the turning lathe. Then he spoke again.
"Jed," he said, "seriously now, when a big question comes up to you, and you've got to answer it one way or the other, how do you settle with yourself which way to answer?"
Jed sighed. "That's easy, Charlie," he declared. "There don't any big questions ever come up to me. I ain't the kind of feller the big things come to." ”

“ Jed seemed pleased at her appreciation, but he did not smile. Instead he sighed.
"I—I just thought I wanted her to have it, ma'am," he said, turning to Mrs. Armstrong. "'Twould keep her from—from forgettin' me altogether, maybe. . . . Not that there's any real reason why she should remember me, of course," he added.
Barbara was hurt and indignant.
"Of COURSE I shan't forget you, Mr. Winslow," she declared. "Neither will Petunia. And neither will Mamma, I know. She feels awful bad because you don't want us to live here any longer, and—"
"Hush, Babbie, hush!" commanded her mother. ”

“ Do you cal'late I'll let my daughter marry a man that's been in state's prison?"
"But, Sam, it wan't all his fault, really. And he'll go straight from this on. I know he will."
"Shut up! He can go to the devil from this on, but he shan't take her with him. . . . Why, Jed, you know what Maud is to me. She's all I've got. She's all I've contrived for and worked for in this world. Think of all the plans I've made for her!"
"I know, Sam, I know; but pretty often our plans don't work out just as we make 'em. Sometimes we have to change 'em—or give 'em up. And you want Maud to be happy." ”

“ And, suddenly, Phineas Babbitt, realizing that his son, Leander, was twenty-five years old and, therefore, within the limits of the draft age, became once more an ardent, if a little more careful, conscientious objector.
He discovered that the war was a profiteering enterprise engineered by capital and greed for the exploiting of labor and the common people. Whenever he thought it safe to do so he aired these opinions and, as there were a few of what Captain Hunniwell called "yellow-backed swabs" in Orham or its neighborhood, he occasionally had sympathetic listeners. ”

“ Gabe Bearse's."
Jed was much amused; he actually laughed aloud. "Gabe and this engine are different in one way, though," he said. "It's within the bounds of human possibility to stop this engine."
They threaded the last winding channel and came out into the bay. Across, on the opposite shore, the new sheds and lumber piles of what was to be the aviation camp loomed raw and yellow in the sunlight. A brisk breeze ruffled the blue water and the pines on the hilltops shook their heads and shrugged their green shoulders. ”