Joseph Bell

“ Mr. Redhorn looked pleased. "Wha was the appreciator o' ma modest creation?"
"I canna mind, but I heard it sure enough. And that reminds me, I was gaun to tell ye, Ridhorn, that the greenhooses up thonder are due a coat o' pent, and I was thinkin' I wud gi'e a hint to Sir Archibald to let you ha'e the job—that is, if ye're wantin' it."
"Man," cried Joseph, "that's exceedin' kind o' ye. I'll be glad to ha'e the job, for the prospec's o' trade in Fairport are no' brilliant at the moment. Thenk ye, thenk ye!" ”

“ McNab, "it's terrible warm the day!" He cast a wistful glance in the direction of a certain cupboard.
"It is that," agreed Joseph, turning on the tap. "It's no' the weather for ginger-wine, or I wud—"
"There's a chill in the heat, too," said Mr. MdNab. "If ye was as auld as me—"
"Wud ye try a taste o' ginger-wine, John?"
"Oh, weel, I'm no parteec'lar; but I'll tak' a taste—for comp'ny's sake. I'll wait till ye've feenished washin' yer face." ”

“ Any grown-up person in Fairport could have told you how once, for a period of years, the painter, apart from his day's work, had appeared to be a confirmed recluse, and such a person could also, doubtless, have proffered theories to account for this choice of solitude. The simple facts are these: Joseph had always been too shy to be what is commonly termed sociable, and when he first shut himself up, the neighbours made no attempt to disturb him. ”

“ He reached down his hand in the dark, and felt the comforting lick. Then the terrier made springs at the edge of the bed. "Was ye wantin' up? Was ye feelin' lanesome? Come then!" He drew her up to him. She nestled against him, licking his face.
"Oh, wee dug," he whispered, "ye've surely got a soul, for it's only the things wi' souls that feel lanesome."
On the fifth and following nights she slept on the bed. Joseph continued to rest well, but his days were unsettled by hopes and fears—hopes that the owner might never turn up, fears lest he should arrive at any moment. ”

“ McNab created a welcome diversion.
"And noo for the gran' surprise!" he cried. "Joseph, what dae ye think we're for namin' ma great-gran'son?"
"Whisht, man!" said old Mrs. McNab; "ye maun ask Maister Ridhorn's leave first."
"Tits, wife! Ye dinna need to ask leave to pay a man a compliment." He dug the painter in the ribs. "Ma great-gran'son's name is to be Joseph—efter yer noble sel'!"
Mr. Redhorn gasped. "Me!" he cried in dire confusion, as red as a turkey-cock. ”

“ McNab seated himself, looked about him, grinned and rubbed his hands. "I'm no' gaun to bide a meenute, Joseph. I merely drapped in to bid ye come an' ha'e yer supper wi' us the nicht."
"Aw!" exclaimed Mr. Redhorn, who was more used to entertaining than to being entertained. He stroked his long nose and blinked doubtingly at his visitor.
"I'm no' jokin'," said Mr. McNab. "The auld wife has made a pie, an' I've got a gran' surprise for ye!"
"Weel, I'm sure it's excessively kind o' ye," the painter said, recovering confidence in himself and humanity generally. ”

“ Joseph, ha'e ye ony extra bad language?"
"Ma sympathy is nane the weaker for bein' dumb, John," replied the painter. "It was indeed, as ye observe, a costly nap. In some o' the new London hotels—see advertizements—ye wud likely ha'e got breakfast thrown in, an' maybe a bath into the bargain.... But what are we to say to the guidwife, John?"
"Oh, she'll jist ha'e to get the truth—what there is o' it. Maybe the nap was a judgment on me. I'm sorry I vexed her.... But—as I've said afore—a man maun ha'e his fling." ”

“ Joseph meekly protruded the member mentioned.
"Been sticking to plain food?"
"I—I confess I had a bit o' sawmon for a treat the week afore last."
"H'm!"
"I had ma apprentice to his tea that nicht. In confidence, doctor, he ett the majority o' the tin. But he was at his wark the next day."
"H'm!" said the doctor again, and released the patient's wrist. "Tongue's all right and pulse isn't bad. Tell me what you feel wrong with you." ”

“ A little later, Joseph Redhorn rose stiffly. His face was ghastly in the lamplight; his pale blue eyes were glazed and strange. He wiped his wet brow, muttering—"God, it's nae use. I couldna thole anither day.... There'll be naebody aboot noo.... I'll mak' an end—A man that doesna matter to onybody—doesna matter to onybody." ”

“ Other men besides Joseph Redhorn have in such wise been pressed to the verge—and over.
It was one of those nights which we may call—according to our mood—late autumn or early winter. A tempest of wind and rain raged over the loch. Doors and windows rattled, chimney-cans toppled, slates and tiles hurtled from the village roofs. Fairport, save one man, was abed, for the hour was late, yet Fairport for the greater part was awake, quaking. ”

“ Mr. McNab said condescendingly, and quite unconsciously smacked his lips. "Ye'll be wonderin' what that gran' surprise is," he remarked presently.
"'Deed, ay," returned Joseph, who was much afraid it would be something to eat in addition to the pie. "But I'm curbin' ma' curiosity."
Mr. McNab gave a hoarse but happy chuckle. "Ma gran'son Peter an' his wife arrived the day," he announced. "Likewise their offspring."
"D'ye tell me that?" said Mr. Redhorn, from behind a towel. "Is the offspring numerous?" he inquired in a tone of well-feigned interest. ”

“ Redhorn wearily. "I'm no' interrested in Danks this evenin'—even if he has been playin' another o' his dirty tricks on me. I'm no' interrested in ony human bein', nor in onything animal, vegetable or mineral, excep' Joseph Ridhorn. I'm ower wearied. So I'll bid ye guid nicht, or adieu—whichever ye prefer."
"Haud on, man!" cried the piermaster, catching him by the sleeve. "I'm gled to hear ye say ye're no' interrested in Peter Danks!" The words were uttered most impressively.
"Eh?" Mr. Redhorn's expression became more alert. ”

“ This was the signal of distress that told the good monks that travellers needed their help. But in the raging of the storm the sound of the bell is not heard at the convent, and, numbed with cold and fatigue, Joseph swoons on the snow. Robert tries to warm him and bring him back to consciousness, but without avail, and at last he is seized with vertigo and dreadful shiverings, and his numbed limbs refuse to take him further. But the strength of his soul is greater than his body, and he falls breathing a prayer to God. ”

“ The Sir Joseph Banks Tender, having been fitted out for sea, sailed on the 20th of April, with the Hedderwick praam-boat in tow, to attend the works at the Bell Rock. She had also on board 15 artificers, consisting of mill-wrights, joiners, smiths and masons, to be employed in extending the Railways, and fitting up the Beacon-house as a place of residence for the workmen. ”

“ On account of the exertions of the late Sir Joseph Banks, in his capacity of one of the Lords of Trade, in procuring the loan from Government, for the use of the Bell Rock Light-house, already alluded to in the Introduction to this work, the writer suggested, as a mark of respect, that the new tender should be named “The Sir Joseph Banks,” to which the Light-house Board most readily acceded.
Is rigged as a schooner. ”

“ Such a slump is ill to be borne by people older than Jessie; besides, even the older people prefer to handle their own—for a time, at least—before they give any of it away.
Surreptitiously she gave the painter's sleeve a timid tug.
That settled it. Mr. Redhorn pulled himself together—and his purse from his pocket. A general sigh went up as the small coin passed into Jessie's little hand. "It's hers to dae what she likes wi'," he said; "but if the ithers like to come to the shop, they'll each get a pennyworth o' sweeties." ”

“ I NAMESAKES MR. JOSEPH REDHORN, the Fairport painter, paper-hanger and decorator, as he was given to styling himself, was never in the best of humours when roused from a Saturday afternoon nap; and on this occasion his irritation was not lessened by the discovery of Mr. John McNab, the reputed oldest inhabitant, on the doorstep of his bachelor abode. So far as Joseph's experience went, a visit from Mr. McNab meant little more than a dreary dissertation on the latter's great age and a notable shrinkage in the former's stock of ginger-wine. ”

“ Thomas shook his head. "Danks there is daein' his best to keep up appearances. His cronies ken naething aboot his affairs; naebody in Fairport does, excep' you an' me an' twa-three ithers. But the man's in a bad way—desperate for cash.... Aweel, I've warned ye, Joseph, an' the subjec' is closed at ween us."
"An' I'm obleeged to ye, Tammas, though in a way yer warnin' 's wasted, for Danks wud never come to me—no' if he was on the verge of bankruptcy. Weel, I'll be movin' hame." The painter recovered hold of his parcel, bade his friend goodnight, and left the office. ”

“ CHAPTER XIV THE CHURCH BELL RINGS Joseph Brant had been a valiant warrior; he had dealt with the affairs of the Six Nations wisely and well. But he had never forgotten that one of the first duties of any ruler is to be, in some sense, a priest unto his people. From a lad, he seems to have been a devoted Christian. The alarms of war had drawn his mind for a period, it is true, to worldly considerations alone, but now that strife had ceased he became once more the friend of the missionary and sought to supply the spiritual needs of the tribes over which his influence was felt. ”

“ The youngest got tired, and demanded to be carried, and eventually the painter, who had never in his life held a child, picked him up awkwardly, and bore him along with nervous care, pulling faces unconsciously and perspiring profusely. All the way Jessie clutched his jacket with one hand, while with the other she warmed her precious piece of silver. Evidently she already regarded the giver no less than the gift as her especial property.
Mr. Redhorn entered the village with acute misgivings. ”

“ Bell, Charles Webster, United States congressman from the ninth district of California, was born June 11, 1857, in Albany, N. Y. He has been a member of the California State Senate. He was elected to the sixty-third congress for the term of 1913-15; and resides in Pasadena, Cal.
Bell, Fred C., banker; born in Massachusetts, Oct. 25, 1862; son of Joseph S. and Sarah (Packer) Bell; married, Alton, Ill., June 15, 1892, Clara Leyhe. Republican; Presbyterian. Woodlawn Improvement Association, United Charities of Chicago, Woodlawn Park Masonic Lodge, Royal Arch Mason, Shriner. ”

“ Mr. Redhorn sighed. "It's no' that I grudge the puir wee innocents their mugs, but... Aweel, I suppose I should be thenkfu' that the baby born in Fairport the ither day—Finlay Thomson's—was o' the female gender." He paused for a moment. "I consulted the doctor confedentially yesterday, an' it was encouragin' to hear that he had nae prognostications o' further juvenile arrivals afore the Spring. Maybe by that time the name 'Joseph' 'll be oot o' fashion. Of course the doctor couldna guarantee—"
"I've moved," said Willie, a trifle impatiently. ”

“ Joseph we found to be a really good fellow, and we became very fond of him before the end of our journey.
These preliminaries being over, “gramophone talked,” with great success, and was duly handed over to Albert after he had been instructed how to work it, together with his church bell. No sooner had that been done than he proceeded to ring the bell as a summons to the villagers to come to church. Albert, who has strong ecclesiastical leanings, has set apart as a church in his village a [152] very nice banaboo with a pointed apse containing a picture of the Madonna and Child. ”

“ Let us for ever endeavour to turn every thing, whether good or bad, into good. I do not not believe that God begot Jesus Christ—they say too that Joseph was an impostor at this very day;—every thing that is done against the church is done against Christ; also that which is done against Christ is done against the Church; and any thing done against the people of God is done against Christ. ”

“ Redhorn looked at his apprentice. "Jist you gang hame an' tell that to yer mither, an' see what she says," he said gently.
When Willie had gone he resumed stirring the paint.
"Five weans!" he murmured. "Criftens! that's a handicap—on Joseph Ridhorn!"
Few things evaporate so quickly as the public's interest in an individual; few so slowly as the individual's interest in the public. For a week or so Fairport wondered about P. Smith. ”

“ I, John Forgie, Plumber, of Fairport, being of sound mind and sober, doth hereby promise, in the presence of Joseph Redhorn, Painter, Paperhanger and Decorator, also of Fairport, to solemnly abstain now and for evermore from all self-indulgence in all manner and species of intoxicating beverages, including Whisky, Brandy, Beer, Rum, Port, Sherry, &c., &c., &c. Given at Fairport on the 3rd day of March, 1913, A.D. Witness my hand and seal. God save the King. ”

“ A month of comfort, physical and mental, had removed the harassed expression from her wizened, homely countenance; she no longer looked much more than her age, which was forty-three. To Mr. Redhorn, however, she, standing in her doorway, appeared the same as ever, for it is to be remembered that he and she were as strange to each other as two people in a small community like Fairport may be. ”

“ It is doubtful if he understood the explanation of the beautiful lady in the costly furs, or if he noticed the great car with the pale gentleman in the tonneau. They belonged to a distant town. A fortnight ago they had been motoring through the district. During a stoppage some miles south of Fairport, the terrier has disappeared, unnoticed. Many miles north of Fairport they had met with an accident. The gentleman had been seriously injured. The terrier had been forgotten at first then advertised for—and so on and so on.... What did it all matter to Joseph Redhorn? ”