| |
| “WILLIS, I didn’t want you here to-day: | |
| The lawyer’s coming for the company. | |
| I’m going to sell my soul, or, rather, feet. | |
| Five hundred dollars for the pair, you know.” | |
| |
| “With you the feet have nearly been the soul; | 5 |
| And if you’re going to sell them to the devil, | |
| I want to see you do it. When’s he coming?” | |
| |
| “I half suspect you knew, and came on purpose | |
| To try to help me drive a better bargain.” | |
| |
| “Well, if it’s true! Yours are no common feet. | 10 |
| The lawyer don’t know what it is he’s buying: | |
| So many miles you might have walked you won’t walk. | |
| You haven’t run your forty orchids down. | |
| What does he think?—How are the blessed feet? | |
| The doctor’s sure you’re going to walk again?” | 15 |
| |
| “He thinks I’ll hobble. It’s both legs and feet.” | |
| |
| “They must be terrible—I mean to look at.” | |
| |
| “I haven’t dared to look at them uncovered. | |
| Through the bed blankets I remind myself | |
| Of a starfish laid out with rigid points.” | 20 |
| |
| “The wonder is it hadn’t been your head.” | |
| |
| “It’s hard to tell you how I managed it. | |
| When I saw the shaft had me by the coat, | |
| I didn’t try too long to pull away, | |
| Or fumble for my knife to cut away, | 25 |
| I just embraced the shaft and rode it out— | |
| Till Weiss shut off the water in the wheel-pit. | |
| That’s how I think I didn’t lose my head. | |
| But my legs got their knocks against the ceiling.” | |
| |
| “Awful. Why didn’t they throw off the belt | 30 |
| Instead of going clear down in the wheel-pit?” | |
| |
| “They say some time was wasted on the belt— | |
| Old streak of leather—doesn’t love me much | |
| Because I make him spit fire at my knuckles, | |
| The way Ben Franklin used to make the kite-string. | 35 |
| That must be it. Some days he won’t stay on. | |
| That day a woman couldn’t coax him off. | |
| He’s on his rounds now with his tail in his mouth | |
| Snatched right and left across the silver pulleys. | |
| Everything goes the same without me there. | 40 |
| You can hear the small buzz saws whine, the big saw | |
| Caterwaul to the hills around the village | |
| As they both bite the wood. It’s all our music. | |
| One ought as a good villager to like it. | |
| No doubt it has a sort of prosperous sound, | 45 |
| And it’s our life.” | |
| |
| “Yes, when it’s not our death.” | |
| |
| “You make that sound as if it wasn’t so | |
| With everything. What we live by we die by. | |
| I wonder where my lawyer is. His train’s in. | 50 |
| I want this over with; I’m hot and tired.” | |
| |
| “You’re getting ready to do something foolish.” | |
| |
| “Watch for him, will you, Will? You let him in. | |
| I’d rather Mrs. Corbin didn’t know; | |
| I’ve boarded here so long, she thinks she owns me. | 55 |
| You’re bad enough to manage without her.” | |
| |
| “And I’m going to be worse instead of better. | |
| You’ve got to tell me how far this is gone: | |
| Have you agreed to any price?” | |
| |
| “Five hundred. | 60 |
| Five hundred—five—five! One, two, three, four, five. | |
| You needn’t look at me.” | |
| |
| “I don’t believe you.” | |
| |
| “I told you, Willis, when you first came in. | |
| Don’t you be hard on me. I have to take | 65 |
| What I can get. You see they have the feet, | |
| Which gives them the advantage in the trade. | |
| I can’t get back the feet in any case.” | |
| |
| “But your flowers, man, you’re selling out your flowers.” | |
| |
| “Yes, that’s one way to put it—all the flowers | 70 |
| Of every kind everywhere in this region | |
| For the next forty summers—call it forty. | |
| But I’m not selling those, I’m giving them, | |
| They never earned me so much as one cent: | |
| Money can’t pay me for the loss of them. | 75 |
| No, the five hundred was the sum they named | |
| To pay the doctor’s bill and tide me over. | |
| It’s that or fight, and I don’t want to fight— | |
| I just want to get settled in my life, | |
| Such as it’s going to be, and know the worst, | 80 |
| Or best—it may not be so bad. The firm | |
| Promise me all the shooks I want to nail.” | |
| |
| “But what about your flora of the valley?” | |
| |
| “You have me there. But that—you didn’t think | |
| That was worth money to me? Still I own | 85 |
| It goes against me not to finish it | |
| For the friends it might bring me. By the way, | |
| I had a letter from Burroughs—did I tell you?— | |
| About my Cyprepedium reginæ; | |
| He says it’s not reported so far north. | 90 |
| There! there’s the bell. He’s rung. But you go down | |
| And bring him up, and don’t let Mrs. Corbin.— | |
| Oh, well, we’ll soon be through with it. I’m tired.” | |
| |
| Willis brought up besides the Boston lawyer | |
| A little barefoot girl who in the noise | 95 |
| Of heavy footsteps in the old frame house, | |
| And baritone importance of the lawyer, | |
| Stood for a while unnoticed with her hands | |
| Shyly behind her. | |
| |
| “Well, and how is Mister——” | 100 |
| The lawyer was already in his satchel | |
| As if for papers that might bear the name | |
| He hadn’t at command. “You must excuse me, | |
| I dropped in at the mill and was detained.” | |
| |
| “Looking round, I suppose,” said Willis. | 105 |
| |
| “Yes, | |
| Well, yes.” | |
| |
| “Hear anything that might prove useful?” | |
| |
| The Broken One saw Anne. “Why, here is Anne. | |
| What do you want, dear? Come, stand by the bed; | 110 |
| Tell me what is it?” Anne just wagged her dress | |
| With both hands held behind her. “Guess,” she said. | |
| |
| “Oh, guess which hand? My my! Once on a time | |
| I knew a lovely way to tell for certain | |
| By looking in the ears. But I forget it. | 115 |
| Er, let me see. I think I’ll take the right. | |
| That’s sure to be right even if it’s wrong. | |
| Come, hold it out. Don’t change.—A Ram’s Horn orchid! | |
| A Ram’s Horn! What would I have got, I wonder, | |
| If I had chosen left. Hold out the left. | 120 |
| Another Ram’s Horn! Where did you find those, | |
| Under what beech tree, on what woodchuck’s knoll?” | |
| |
| Anne looked at the large lawyer at her side, | |
| And thought she wouldn’t venture on so much. | |
| |
| “Were there no others?” | 125 |
| |
| “There were four or five. | |
| I knew you wouldn’t let me pick them all.” | |
| |
| “I wouldn’t—so I wouldn’t. You’re the girl! | |
| You see Anne has her lesson learned by heart.” | |
| |
| “I wanted there should be some there next year.” | 130 |
| |
| “Of course you did. You left the rest for seed, | |
| And for the backwoods woodchuck. You’re the girl! | |
| A Ram’s Horn orchid seedpod for a woodchuck | |
| Sounds something like. Better than farmer’s beans | |
| To a discriminating appetite, | 135 |
| Though the Ram’s Horn is seldom to be had | |
| In bushel lots—doesn’t come on the market. | |
| But, Anne, I’m troubled; have you told me all? | |
| You’re hiding something. That’s as bad as lying. | |
| You ask this lawyer man. And it’s not safe | 140 |
| With a lawyer at hand to find you out. | |
| Nothing is hidden from some people, Anne. | |
| You don’t tell me that where you found a Ram’s Horn | |
| You didn’t find a Yellow Lady’s Slipper. | |
| What did I tell you? What? I’d blush, I would. | 145 |
| Don’t you defend yourself. If it was there, | |
| Where is it now, the Yellow Lady’s Slipper?” | |
| |
| “Well, wait—it’s common—it’s too common.” | |
| |
| “Common? | |
| The Purple Lady’s Slipper’s commoner.” | 150 |
| |
| “I didn’t bring a Purple Lady’s Slipper | |
| To You—to you I mean—they’re both too common.” | |
| |
| The lawyer gave a laugh among his papers | |
| As if with some idea that she had scored. | |
| |
| “I’ve broken Anne of gathering bouquets. | 155 |
| It’s not fair to the child. It can’t be helped though: | |
| Pressed into service means pressed out of shape. | |
| Somehow I’ll make it right with her—she’ll see. | |
| She’s going to do my scouting in the field, | |
| Over stone walls and all along a wood | 160 |
| And by a river bank for water flowers, | |
| The floating Heart, with small leaf like a heart, | |
| And at the sinus under water a fist | |
| Of little fingers all kept down but one, | |
| And that thrust up to blossom in the sun | 165 |
| As if to say, ‘You! You’re the Heart’s desire.’ | |
| Anne has a way with flowers to take the place | |
| Of that she’s lost: she goes down on one knee | |
| And lifts their faces by the chin to hers | |
| And says their names, and leaves them where they are.” | 170 |
| |
| The lawyer wore a watch the case of which | |
| Was cunningly devised to make a noise | |
| Like a small pistol when he snapped it shut | |
| At such a time as this. He snapped it now. | |
| |
| “Well, Anne, go, dearie. Our affair will wait. | 175 |
| The lawyer man is thinking of his train. | |
| He wants to give me lots and lots of money | |
| Before he goes, because I hurt myself, | |
| And it may take him I don’t know how long. | |
| But put our flowers in water first. Will, help her: | 180 |
| The pitcher’s too full for her. There’s no cup? | |
| Just hook them on the inside of the pitcher. | |
| Now run.—Get out your documents! You see | |
| I have to keep on the good side of Anne. | |
| I’m a great boy to think of number one. | 185 |
| And you can’t blame me in the place I’m in. | |
| Who will take care of my necessities | |
| Unless I do?” | |
| |
| “A pretty interlude,” | |
| The lawyer said. “I’m sorry, but my train— | 190 |
| Luckily terms are all agreed upon. | |
| You only have to sign your name. Right—there.” | |
| |
| “You, Will, stop making faces. Come round here | |
| Where you can’t make them. What is it you want? | |
| I’ll put you out with Anne. Be good or go.” | 195 |
| |
| “You don’t mean you will sign that thing unread?” | |
| |
| “Make yourself useful then, and read it for me. | |
| Isn’t it something I have seen before?” | |
| |
| “You’ll find it is. Let your friend look at it.” | |
| |
| “Yes, but all that takes time, and I’m as much | 200 |
| In haste to get it over with as you. | |
| But read it, read it. That’s right, draw the curtain: | |
| Half the time I don’t know what’s troubling me.— | |
| What do you say, Will? Don’t you be a fool, | |
| You! crumpling folkses legal documents. | 205 |
| Out with it if you’ve any real objection.” | |
| |
| “Five hundred dollars!” | |
| |
| “What would you think right?” | |
| |
| “A thousand wouldn’t be a cent too much; | |
| You know it, Mr. Lawyer. The sin is | 210 |
| Accepting anything before he knows | |
| Whether he’s ever going to walk again. | |
| It smells to me like a dishonest trick.” | |
| |
| “I think—I think—from what I heard to-day— | |
| And saw myself—he would be ill-advised——” | 215 |
| |
| “What did you hear, for instance?” Willis said. | |
| |
| “Now the place where the accident occurred——” | |
| |
| The Broken One was twisted in his bed. | |
| “This is between you two apparently. | |
| Where I come in is what I want to know. | 220 |
| You stand up to it like a pair of cocks. | |
| Go outdoors if you want to fight. Spare me. | |
| When you come back, I’ll have the papers signed. | |
| Will pencil do? Then, please, your fountain pen. | |
| One of you hold my head up from the pillow.” | 225 |
| |
| Willis flung off the bed. “I wash my hands— | |
| I’m no match—no, and don’t pretend to be——” | |
| |
| The lawyer gravely capped his fountain pen. | |
| “You’re doing the wise thing: you won’t regret it. | |
| We’re very sorry for you.” | 230 |
| |
| Willis sneered: | |
| “Who’s we?—some stockholders in Boston? | |
| I’ll go outdoors, by gad, and won’t come back.” | |
| |
| “Willis, bring Anne back with you when you come. | |
| Yes. Thanks for caring. Don’t mind Will: he’s savage. | 235 |
| He thinks you ought to pay me for my flowers. | |
| You don’t know what I mean about the flowers. | |
| Don’t stop to try to now. You’ll miss your train. | |
| Good-bye.” He flung his arms around his face. | |
| |
