Uncle Bill

“ Ally Merton smiled quizzically when I spoke of Uncle Bill to him....
"Yes, Uncle Bill's a fine, quaint old chap ... whenever he has a tiff with his wife—of course, never anything serious—he locks himself in the kitchen ... closes all the windows ... smokes up terrifically with his corncob ... and plays and plays for hours on end ... his Red Seal records of classical music of which he is so fond.
"This behaviour of his is a well-known joke among us, a joke with his wife, to!" ... the speaker paused, to continue—
"He has a good library and quite a large knowledge of the English poets." ”

“ They’re all like children to him, and they’re all the family he’s got. Uncle Bill told me one time that his place up there was his idea of heaven, and that if he died and the Lord Almighty’d let him, all he would ask would be to just come back there and keep on livin’ and workin’. ”

“ With tears and sobs my voice I raise
To celebrate my uncle's praise;
With all my strength, with all my skill,
I'll sing the song of Uncle Bill."
Convivial to the last degree,
An open-hearted sportsman he. ”

“ To look to either side he must turn his entire body. The only human being he ever thought kindly of was his wife, Susan. He always spoke of her respectfully. Some [47] people he hated more intensely than others. Uncle Bill was an especial mark of his vituperation. When they passed on the street George would turn his body half way around to mutter and curse him—however, not that Uncle Bill could hear. ”

“ But Bill assured us that his uncle was “no ordinary man”; that he would not interfere with our plans, but would enter right into them and give us many valuable pointers. Though not by any means convinced, we told him to go ahead and invite his uncle, as that seemed about the only means of winning over our fathers and mothers. The society was then adjourned until our Easter vacation began, each member 45 promising to earn and save as much money as he could in the meantime to buy the materials for a tent and provisions for the summer outing.
Word From Uncle Ed.
Fig. 37. ”

“ And Uncle Billy had been so good to him, too, so very good! Yes, he thought he had better tell him; he would do it now, before his resolution failed. He raised his hand to lift the latch. Again he hesitated. If he should tell him, that would end it all. The good man would never allow him to act a falsehood. He would have to bid farewell to all his sweet dreams of home, and his high plans for life, and step back into the old routine of helpless poverty and hopeless toil. ”

“ Uncle Billy lifted his hat reverently. "The ginger one is Comrade—a fine name."
"Why, 'tis a little sow."
"And what better comrade than a blessed female, my loving dear, and who'd know that better than me?"
"Don't you go mixing me up with the pigs, Willum; I won't have it. What's the name of that perky black one?"
"Mount Royal," said Uncle Billy. "I'm a King's man and like to respect they set over me. Royal just means one of the King's family."
The parade was dismissed; the herd returned to its home and Uncle Billy paid the cost of wear and tear. ”

“ And to-day none but the Spriggans know where the gold is hidden.
Well, one morning not very long ago Uncle Billy of Trevidga was out on the side of a hill, cutting away the furze that was as high as his head, with bare places here and there covered with white clover, heath, and whortleberries. Uncle Billy was working hard, when he spied the prettiest little creature, a real little man, not bigger than a kitten, sleeping on a bank of wild thyme. He was dressed in a green coat, sky-blue breeches, and diamond-buckled shoes. His tiny cocked hat was drawn over his face, to shade it from the sun. ”

“ Once a week she went down to Uncle Billy's, where she watched the water-wheel dripping sun-jewels into the sluice, the kingfisher darting like a blue bolt upon his prey, and listening to the lullaby that the water played to the sleepy old mill—and stopping, both ways, to gossip with old Hon in her porch under the honeysuckle vines. Uncle Billy saw the change in her and he grew vaguely uneasy about her—she dreamed so much, she was at times so restless, she asked so many questions he could not answer, and she failed to ask so many that were on the tip of her tongue. ”

“ Uncle Billy was indignant, for the negroes begin at four o'clock in the afternoon of Christmas Eve to slip around corners and jump from hiding-places to shout "Christmas Gif'—Christmas Gif'"; and the one who shouts first gets a gift. No wonder it was gloomy for Satan—Uncle Carey, Dinnie, and all gone, and not a soul but Uncle Billy in the big house. Every few minutes he would trot on his little black legs upstairs and downstairs, looking for his mistress. ”

“ Presently Bill opened his eyes and yawned. Then he threw off his blanket, sat up and sniffed.
“Bacon—eggs—coffee,” he murmured. “Good morning, Uncle, you sure are an A1. up to the minute chef!”
Hovering over a sizzling frying pan, the old man turned his head and smiled at Bill.
“Mornin’, Marse Bill. Yaas, suh, I ’low dat eatin’ brekfus’ an’ gettin’ it, too, is de bes’ fashion what is.”
“You said it,” grinned Bill. “Say, I guess we all overslept! Well, no use crossing our bridges ’til we come to ’em. Any place in this hotel where I can wash and slick up a bit, Uncle?”
“Sho’ is, suh. ”

“ He laid down his cards and gazed mysteriously at his companion. Uncle Jim knew perfectly that Uncle Billy had regularly once a week for many years declared his final determination to go over to Angel's and prospect his claim, yet nevertheless he half responded to his partner's suggestion of mystery, and a look of fatuous wonder crept into his eyes. But he contented himself by saying cautiously, “You spoke of it first.”
“That's the more sing'lar,” said Uncle Billy confidently. “And I've been thinking about it, and kinder seeing myself thar all day. It's mighty queer!” ”

“ Uncle Billy laughed. It was a novel idea; it was, of course, "all in the air," like the rest of their game, yet even then he had an odd feeling that he would have liked Dick Bullen to have known it. "Wade in, old pard," he said. "I'm on it."
Uncle Jim lit another candle to reinforce the fading light, and the deal fell to Uncle Billy. He turned up Jack of clubs. He also turned a little redder as he took up his cards, looked at them, and glanced hastily at his partner. "It's no use playing," he said. "Look here!" He laid down his cards on the table. ”

“ Meantime, Uncle Billy had resumed his seat and was chuckling and reminiscent as he cleaned out his pipe.
"Kinder reminds me of Jo Sharp, when he was cleaned out at poker by his own partners in his own cabin, comin' up here and bedevilin' us about it! What was it you lint him?"
But Uncle Jim did not reply; and Uncle Billy, taking up the cards, began to shuffle them, smiling vaguely, yet at the same time somewhat painfully. "Arter all, Dick was mighty cut up about what he said, and I felt kinder sorry for him. And, you know, I rather cotton to a man that speaks his mind. ”

“ Even Uncle Billy Powers grew uneasy.
“Now, I do hope an’ trust he ain’t gone an’ lost his temper up thar in the woods,” remarked Uncle Billy. “I hope it from the bottom of my heart. These here wars an’ rumors of wars makes the folks mighty restless. They’ll take resks now what they wouldn’t dassent to of tuck before this here rippit begun, an’ it’s done got so now human [96] life ain’t wuth shucks. The boys up here ain’t no better ’n the rest. They fly to pieces quicker ’n they ever did.”
No trouble, however, had come to Captain Moseley. ”

“ He reached forward and dug Uncle Billy in the ribs.
"What would you hev done?" said Uncle Billy, after an hysterical collapse.
Uncle Jim's face grew grave again. "I'd hev—I'd—hev cl'ared out! Out er 'Frisco! out er Californy! out er Ameriky! I couldn't have stud it! Don't think I would hev begrudged ye yer luck! No man would have been gladder than me." He leaned forward again, and laid his hand caressingly upon his partner's arm—"Don't think I'd hev wanted to take a penny of it—but I—thar! ”

“ Andy glanced at the sun. “We ’ll be late,” he said.
“Yes, we ’ll be late, like enough. Smells good up here, don’t it!” Uncle William snuffed the salt air with relish. “I al’ays like to stop along here somewheres. It makes a putty good half-way place.”
Andy sat down. “Benjy’s wastin’ time on that house of his,” he said glumly.
“Yes, he’s wastin’ time.” Uncle William looked about him placidly. “Benjy don’t mind time—nor wastin’ it. What he wants is a house that he wants. I do’ ’no’s I blame him for that—I like a house that suits me, too.” ”

“ He beamed on her genially. “He’ll get well a good deal faster if the’ ’s suthin’ he thinks he wants and can’t have.”
“Yes. How will you keep him away?” A little twinkle sounded in her voice.
“I’ll take him home with me,” said Uncle William, “up to Arichat.”
“Now?”
“Well, in a day or two—soon’s it’s safe. It’d do anybody good.” His face grew wistful. “If you jest see it once, the way it is, you’d know what I mean: kind o’ big sweeps,”—he waved his arm over acres of moor,—“an’ a good deal o’ sky—room enough for clouds, sizable ones, and wind. You’d o’t to hear our wind.” ”

“ We don’t hurry much, but seems to me we get about as much—about as much living as other folks do.” He looked at him over his glasses. “We’ve got enough to eat, and beds—putty good beds—and things to wear.... I keep a-thinking and a-thinking about it,” he went on, “and I don’t see just what ’tis we o’t to scratch around so for.”
“There’s education,” said the other, swinging his long glasses on their slender chain.
“Yes, you’ve got eddication, Benjy. I can see it—kind o’ the way you set in a chair—different from my way.” Uncle William regarded his great legs with kindly eye. ”

“ He held the stalk of grass between his teeth and it turned slowly as he talked, “I’d like to build a house like this one—such as he’s planning for.... There must be a good many things come up, you won’t know how to do.” He moved his hand toward the circumference about them, with a half gesture.
“That’s it,” said Uncle William, “That’s just what I told Benjy.... You take the whole thing over—tell him how much ’twill cost, and so on—figger it out?” ”

“ But, you see, the Lord’s got him.”
“Yes, sir,” said Celia.
“You go right home—and you go to sleep,” said Uncle William.
“I’d rather stay here,” said the girl quickly, “this is home.”
“Why, so ’tis,” said Uncle William, “—and the’ ain’t any reason why you can’t stay as well as not. You just lie down on the lounge here.... Juno’s good comp’ny and there’s the fire, and lights.... You won’t get lonesome.” He patted the shoulder and was gone.
The girl finished the dishes and sat down in the big chair by the stove. ”

“ Bodet came and stood beside him, looking out. “It suits me,” he said. “I don’t want anything better than this—except to have the children back,” he added after a minute.
“They ’ll be’long byme-by, Benjy.” Uncle William’s gaze was on the blackened water. “They ’ll be’long—and the little one with ’em.... You ought to have somebody to keep house for you, Benjy—till they come—” He turned and looked at him—“Want me to lend you Celia awhile?” he said craftily, “—just whilst you’re finishing up? She likes it out there—” he nodded to the kitchen. ”

“ Bodet turned as he came up. “Who cares about building a house!” he said. “Look at that sky and water and all this—!” His gesture took in the rocks and turf and the flock of sheep feeding their way up the hill to the horizon.
Uncle William’s eye followed it all placidly. “You do get over being in a hurry—up here,” he said slowly, “I reckon it’s because the Lord’s done so well by it—got a chance to finish things up—without folks meddling too much—it seems kind o’ foolish to hurry ’bout things.... Well, George ’ll do your house for you—if you want him to.” ”

“ The’s suthin’ about it—I do’ ’no’ what ’t is, Benjy—but it makes you all kind o’ happy inside—thinking there’s goin’ to be more folks always, when you’re gone—living along in the same places and doin’ things.... I can kind o’ see ’em,” said Uncle William slowly, “—everywheres I go—there they be—plain as if I touched ’em. some of ’em—getting up in the morning and havin’ breakfast and goin’ out and looking at the sun and the rocks and the water and being happy—same as me—unhappy, too, some of the time—thinkin’ things ought to be different.... It makes it all seem big, don’t it, Benjy?” ”

“ Uncle William looked after her as she flitted down the path, the wind blowing the little curls about her face, and the pan on her arm glinting in the sun. He turned and went into the house, a contented look in his face. “Seems’s if we had most everything,” he said comfortably. Juno came across and rubbed against him and he stooped to pet her. Then he went into the bedroom and came out with a plan of the new house. He spread it on the table and sat down, studying it with pleased, shrewd smile. ”

“ His tough fingers worked swiftly among the nets, untying knots and straightening meshes.
“I dunno ’bout that,” said Uncle William. His eyes followed the whiff of smoke kindly.
“You kep’ him a good deal, off and on. He must ’a’ e’t considerable,” said Andrew. “And now he’s up and lost your boat for you.” He glanced complacently at the Andrew Halloran swinging at anchor. “You’ll never see her again,” he said. He gave a final toss to the net.
“Mebbe not,” said Uncle William. “Mebbe not.” His eyes were on the horizon, where the gray-blue haze lingered lightly. The blue sky dipped to meet it. ”

“ He rose cautiously from his keg and motioned to Andy who was disappearing behind a pile of lumber down on the dock.
Andy came out, a little grudgingly, it seemed, and the man moved forward to meet him.
Uncle William went on mending his net.
When the man returned his face had a reddish look and his voice was a little controlled and stiff. “Halloran tells me you’ve put an injunction on my work up there?” He moved his hand toward the cliff.
Uncle William held up his net and squinted at it. “We-l-l,” he said slowly, “we told ’em they better not do any more building—not till you come.” ”