Pearl and Periwinkle
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Anna Graetz >> Pearl and Periwinkle
"That's all you know about it, Rex," he said reprovingly. "Why, lots of
splendid fellows never play billiards and they aren't mollycoddles by
any means. I do think though that they are depriving themselves of
innocent pleasures."
Then turning to Joe in a very conciliatory tone he again urged, "Come
Smith, you'll go with us tonight," and he rested his hand persuasively
on Joe's shoulder. There was something wonderfully fascinating about the
older of these two Sophomores; so Joe thought. But he only said, "And
after Bordell's, I suppose, will come Steinberg's?"
His four visitors laughed in hearty unison, and the one whom they called
Rex exclaimed in a sarcastic tone:
"There's no harm in that, is there? A drink never hurts a _gentleman_."
"But it doesn't always leave them gentlemen," remarked Joe emphatically.
"Of course, Smith," replied the elder of the Sophomores assuming a
persuasive tone, "we shan't urge you. We asked you because we like you,
and because you like a little harmless fun. If you don't come I'm afraid
you'll regret it when you are here alone. Or, by the way, won't Reydal
come?"
"Yes, Reydal," and from the woe-begotten tone of his voice the
happy-go-lucky visitors knew they had scored a point. Suddenly Joe's
boyish laugh rang out--that laugh that won for him so many friends.
"Reydal," he repeated, still laughing. "Reydal, with his philosophy of
gloom, and his face as long as a gypsy's tale of woe. He will sit
opposite me here by the fire; he'll spread his coat, open his book, and
try to hide his mouth and chin behind his number twenty collar. Then
from the depths of shining celluloid he'll quote his own views,
contradicting some by-gone philosopher, until the welcome stroke of ten
relieves me. Poor Reydal, how can I escape him?"
A sense of shame for this uncharitable attitude toward his most intimate
college chum possessed Joe Smith before he had finished his humorous
sarcasm, but he was in an unaccountable mood just then.
"We've told you how you can escape him," urged one of the boys from town
as they started for the door. "We've got some visiting to do in the
dorm, but will call for you in an hour or so, and if you should decide
not to go with us--there is always Reydal."
Joe joined with them in the laughter that followed this sally, and then
reentered the room, thrilled with a delightful feeling of anticipated
adventure.
"There's no harm," he assured himself as if repeating a lesson. Just
then another knock sounded and a cheery voice called, "The lion's share
for you tonight Smith," and the evening mail was thrown on the table.
The minister's son looked it over carelessly, too excited to take an
interest in it, until his eyes caught the sight of a square envelope
addressed in round childish letters.
He tore it open with a quick characteristic gesture, and as he did so a
small photograph fell out. Two childish faces with eyes equally
appealing and lovely gazed up at him. Joe regarded it with the look of
tenderness which he always felt for children, and then placed it on a
conspicuous place on the mantle. He then directed his attention to the
enclosed letter which was written in Periwinkle's now familiar hand. The
letter told of their experiences at school, of Pearl's singing in the
children's choir, and of his interest in a boys' Bible class which he
had joined. He mentioned that Aunt Hetty had given Mrs. Farwell a long
extension on the mortgage held against her and that Robert Grey had paid
in part already and that the money had been laid aside until he was old
enough to go to Joe's college.
"Aunt Hetty is very good to us," the letter continued. "She says we are
improving in conduct. But I told her it was because of you, Smith. Pearl
says I can't be as good as you. She is right, but that don't keep me
from trying. I am afraid, Smith, that Washington Grey would still have a
black eye, if I hadn't thought of you just before I was going to hit
him. I thought to myself, 'Smith wouldn't do anything that wasn't right,
and if I want to be like him I've got to try pretty hard.' Pearl sends
her love, Smith, and so do I. She is making you something for Christmas,
but it's going to be a surprise. Good-bye for now.
Your friend,
Perry Toddles."
Having finished reading the letter, Joe rose and flung the window
wide-open, breathing deeply of the moisture-laden air. Something seemed
to be choking him--"Smith wouldn't do anything that wasn't right!" His
mind was in a turmoil--how that thought conflicted with the impulse of
the previous moment. Below, the city lights, seductive and full of
mystery, sent their alluring invitation through the fog. Down there he
would find congenial friends and pleasure--as youth desired it.
Here--yes, but "Smith wouldn't do anything that wasn't right, and I want
to be just like him."
The sound of music, alluring, enticing, came faintly to his ears; the
lights signalled frantically and the wily city smiled her invitation
more urgently than ever before--and then that compelling voice of a
conscience that responded to the inviolable faith of his little
hero-worshipper--"Smith wouldn't do anything--"
The door burst open violently. "Ready, old Pal?" Their chorused inquiry
brought him to his feet--he hesitated--and then closing the window with
a bang the minister's son faced his questioners.
"I'm not going," he replied quietly but resolutely.
"Not going?" echoed his visitors quite taken aback. They had been so
sure of him. They needed him, a student who stood in so well with the
professors.
"Not going," said Rex and continued with a sneering laugh, "I suppose
you prefer Reydal?"
"Yes," was the rejoinder, "I prefer--Reydal."
Then moved by a sudden impulse Joe called out: "Come in fellows I want
to tell you why I can not go."
He took the picture from the mantle and handed it to them.
"Here is a little girl who believes in me with all her heart, and here
is a boy who wants to be just like myself. He doesn't believe that Smith
would do anything that was not square. It makes a lot of difference when
anyone believes in you like that."
Feeling the force of Joe's argument and realizing the futility of
attempting to change his decision, his disappointed visitors left. But
many times that evening, in the midst of their hilarious fun, thoughts
of those who believed in them as the boy and girl believed in Joe
persisted in rising uncalled in their minds.
Some minutes after the four had left, a tall broad form, whose neck
encased in an enormous collar rendered him especially conspicuous,
entered the room without the ceremony of knocking.
"I've come to discuss with you a rather abstruse statement which I have
found in Bersey's 'The Human Mind,'" boomed forth a voice from the
depths of the said collar.
"Sit down, Reydal, sit down," urged Joe, placing the easiest chair in
the den before the fire. "We still have two hours for our chat."
CHAPTER VII
PERIWINKLE BREAKS THE ICE
The opening days of December brought in their wake a cold spell that was
more severe than had been experienced for many years so early in the
season. The thermometer began to drop suddenly Friday evening, and
Monday morning found the ponds ice-covered and crowded with merry school
children on skates. Winter's little joke in arriving ahead of scheduled
time met with their approval, even though their elders may have had
reason to complain. Periwinkle and Pearl were also there, taking their
first skating lesson. The teacher, watching at the window, was glad to
see that Emil Maise and Washington Grey were helping Peri, while the
girls of both "clans" were trying to keep Pearl on her feet.
After school was dismissed Pearl and Peri in company with one of their
second cousins (George--a freckled-face red-headed youngster) hurried to
a pond that glistened in the field back of Robert Grey's home. The three
had been there but a few minutes when a wistful little face peered at
them from Mr. Grey's back fence. It was Kitty Farwell's second son,
timid little Bobby, one of the primary pupils at the village school.
Pearl called to him to join them.
Bobby came running gleefully, his red-stockinged legs kicking up the
soft snow in mimic clouds. After racing with the little chap for a few
minutes, Pearl ran back to the older lads to have her skates put on
again. Then laughing and shouting, the three joined hands and skated
along the pond edge while little Bobby, left alone, slid nearer and
nearer toward the center of the pond. Suddenly a piercing scream reached
the ears of the three skaters and they turned just in time to see
Bobby's golden head disappear under the ice. For a moment all stood
still as though rooted to the spot; then Pearl and George ran as fast as
their legs could carry them to the house of Mr. Grey. Peri, obeying the
heroic impulse of his brave heart ran quickly but cautiously toward the
thinning ice in the centre of the pond. Bobby had come to the surface
and, though much frightened, had managed to grasp the edge of the broken
ice. When Periwinkle came within a few feet of the child he flung
himself down and wriggled carefully toward Bobby until he was able to
get hold of his collar. In this position he managed to hold Bobby's head
above water, but found it perilous to move or attempt to pull him up on
the ice. His right arm grew numb with the weight and his left hand,
cramped and twisted by his sprawling posture, pained him severely. He
knew that help would come soon, but an eternity seemed to pass before he
heard Mr. Grey's encouraging call, "Hold on Peri, just a minute longer."
Periwinkle did hang on desperately until Mr. Grey, with the help of
rails and a rope, rescued them both from their dangerous position. Then
Periwinkle grew faint and dizzy and knew nothing more until he found
himself on Mr. Grey's couch with Mr. Grey and Pearl bending anxiously
over him. Bobby's mother, having bundled the little fellow up like a
department store package, had wheeled his little cot close up to the
stove, while Bobby himself howled lustily, really none the worse for his
little adventure. But Periwinkle had sprained his left wrist as Mr. Grey
saw when he bathed and dressed the injured hand. His first thought was
to call the doctor, but before he could do so the boy opened his eyes
and begged to be taken home. Thereupon Robert Grey wrapped him up in his
great fur coat and carried him as easily as if he were a baby to Miss
Hetty's home.
Hetty met them at the door, her heart cold with fear. She now realized
for the first time how dear Myra's children had become to her. Without a
word she admitted Mr. Grey with his burden and calmly heard his account
of Periwinkle's heroic deed. Not until he had placed Periwinkle in a
large armchair before the fire and had turned to go did Miss Hetty
address him.
"I must thank you," she said tremulously, holding Peri's hand tightly in
her own, "you have saved his life."
"As he saved my nephew's," replied Robert Grey, but his voice faltered
as he realized that for the first time in years he was speaking to _her_
and that _she_ was grateful to him.
Miss Maise however took no notice of his emotion.
"That was his duty," she said coldly. "Peri is a Maise through and
through. He is too brave and kind to let anyone or anything perish. He
risked his life to save your nephew as he would have risked his life to
save Alois' terrier."
Stung by her words and manner, Mr. Grey turned again to go; yet in spite
of his rebuff he thought that Hetty looked very beautiful with the
sunset glow lighting up her golden head, though as cold as the snow
clad peaks lighted up by the gold of the descending sun. It was
Periwinkle's voice however that called him back again. "I'm so glad you
came just when you did Mr. Grey," he murmured gratefully, "and Aunt
Hetty and Pearl and I ain't no end thankful to you for being so kind as
to carry me home, when I weigh such a heap, thanks to Aunt Hetty's
corn-bread, the minister says. You do believe in the Fat Woman's golden
rule, don't you?" and then he added meditatively, "I wonder whether you
believe in that other rule, 'Love your enemies,' you know?"
The color rose to Miss Hetty's cheeks at her nephew's last words and
deepened as Mr. Grey said quietly:
"Perhaps I believe in them too much for my own good." And the glance he
directed toward the boy's aunt was half reproachful, half tender. Hetty
turned quickly to wipe a bit of imaginary dust from the table, but Mr.
Grey turned once more as he reached the door:
"May I send the doctor up, Miss Maise?"
Miss Maise had been trying to muster up courage to ask him that very
thing, for she did not want him to think too harshly of her. Now that he
had really asked, however, she replied crisply:
"Thank you, Pearl can go for me. Good evening, Mr. Grey. You have been
most kind to Periwinkle."
Mr. Grey felt as if she had tried to hurry his departure, but, had he
been able to read Miss Hetty's thoughts just then, his heart would have
been much lighter.
Naturally enough, Peri became a hero in the village. He had saved the
life of one of the Greys at the risk of his own, and the Greys could
not but help making a fuss over him. The village children had learned
already to love the kindhearted boy and his sweet sister; now their
parents came to regard them with the same affection.
This change was noticed by the minister and in his next letter to his
son he wrote: "The barriers between the two factions are slowly
crumbling, simply because those children will not recognize them.
Strangely enough, the strongest resistance is made by Hetty and Robert
Grey, but Pearl or her brother will take them by surprise some time and
then all will be well. I must tell you of something that will cause you
much pleasure. It seems that the children's mother had told them of our
Christmas services here and they were making great plans for Christmas
eve. They have never seen a Christmas tree. Miss Hetty had not the heart
to tell them that for three years we have had no Christmas Eve service,
neither had Robert Grey--nor I. So one Sunday when Peri was home with
his sprained wrist and Pearl of course was with him I made one final
appeal to the congregation after the Sunday-school service. I could see
that it was what they had all been longing for. To show you how both
families feel toward those children I need mention only that Eldon Maise
and Robert Grey, almost in one breath, made the motion that we have
children's services on Christmas Eve this year. You must hurry home for
the event."
When Joe finished reading these good news he indulged in a regular dance
of delight, waltzing his table and other articles of furniture around in
such a way that, had they been possessed of the power of speech, a very
strong protest would have been forthcoming.
"Hurrah! Peri has broken the ice at last," he exclaimed. "At least he
has cracked it and it won't take much more to finish the job. Won't
there be a big splash though when the Maises and Greys all tumble in.
Those circus children of Myra Maise are the best things that ever
strayed into the parish."
CHAPTER VIII
EVEN UNTO BETHLEHEM
After Periwinkle's recovery the children's visits to Mr. Grey's home
became quite frequent. Miss Maise wisely concluded that if the Greys
wanted to idolize Myra's children she might as well not interfere. Pearl
especially loved to visit there, for Mr. Grey, who was quite an
accomplished musician, seeing her interest, helped her in her music and
they spent many delightful hours in playing and singing. One Friday
evening, two weeks before Christmas, Pearl had just finished singing a
most wonderful melody with such sweetness and tenderness that Mr. Grey
seemed almost entranced.
"Isn't it lovely?" asked Pearl breathlessly. "If that were only a church
song I could sing it in the choir. The music is really church music,
isn't it?" she added critically. "I believe the angel's 'Glory' song
must have sounded something like this one."
"The very thing," exclaimed Mr. Grey with delight. "Nothing could suit
your voice better than this song. Now if I would write a Christmas song
for this music would you sing it at church on Christmas Eve?"
"Oh, Mr. Grey," cried the excited girl, "could you do that? I thought it
took a wise man to write a poem." Mr. Grey passed over the
uncomplimentary remark with a smile.
"I used to be rather clever at rhyming things, Pearl," he said. "If I
only could write half of what is in my heart, it might make a very
presentable song. And now if you will come tomorrow afternoon we'll
practise it," adding, "but, Pearl dear, you must promise me not to sing
it to anybody--not even to your aunt--before Christmas."
The Christmas season found Pearl and Periwinkle busily engaged in all
sorts of preparations. They helped Miss Hetty bake wonderful Christmas
cakes. Their combined efforts were necessary to make what they thought
would be just the thing for Joe Smith. And Pearl did not hesitate to
call on Miss Hetty to show her how to hemstitch a handkerchief for
Robert Grey. The most fun of all, however, was to get Miss Hetty's
present into the house and stow it safely away, which they finally
accomplished when Miss Hetty happened to discover that there were some
things which had to be attended to in the attic.
But best of all was the joy of helping Zeke Grey and Emil Maise cut down
the enormous tree for the church. Nor did the children wonder, nor take
any credit to themselves when the son-in-law of Jeoffrey Maise worked
side by side with the nephew of Jim Grey, to set the tree in place.
Yet when it came to filling the candy sacks and decorating the tree
these tasks were assigned as separate duties to the ladies of the two
clans. Both parties still could not forget the past even around the
children's Christmas tree. The minister's son was everywhere and so too
was Alois Maise who was just home for the holidays.
While the church was thus the scene of festive preparation, Pearl was
busily engaged in rehearsing her song with Mr. Grey.
"Splendid!" he exclaimed enthusiastically. "I didn't imagine that my
words would fit so well. They don't amount to much in themselves,
girlie, but you must sing into them all that my heart would say. Sing as
you do now, and the minister and Joe and I, and perhaps--perhaps Aunt
Hetty will bless you forever, dear."
The delight of dressing that evening, the joy of the hurried supper, the
happiness in walking hand in hand with the beloved aunt to the brightly
lighted church! How could Miss Hetty or the children ever forget that
night!
"Do you know, Auntie," said Peri thoughtfully, while the soft snow fell
about them, "I'm thinking of my last Christmas. How much different this
one is. Now we have you, and a home, and Mr. Grey, and Joe and
everything we need and everybody loves us. Even Pearl wouldn't go back
to the circus for anything. But I keep thinking tonight of what the Fat
Woman said, last Christmas when Jerry the clown gave her a silver
mirror. She said, 'Thanks awfully for making me remember that Christmas
is here again. But I guess it ain't so much what we give and get as it
is the way we feel about giving and getting it round Christmas time.' I
told this to Joe Smith yesterday and he said, 'Yes, Peri, the spirit of
Christmas is the Spirit of Him whose birthday we celebrate.' Oh, Aunt
Hetty, aren't you--aren't you hoping that I'll grow up to be like Smith
some day? I wish that I could do something for him. It's grand to do
things to make people happy and good. I reckon the two are about the
same thing, happiness and goodness. Oh, just look how the church is lit
up! Have I talked too much, Aunt Hetty?"
By this time they were at the church door and, trembling with
excitement, they entered. Pearl and Periwinkle took their places in the
children's choir, beaming with happiness and joy, while Aunty Hetty,
with a sparkle in her eyes and a new warmth in her heart, took her place
near the front.
Joe Smith occupied an advantageous position from which he could see
everything that was going on. There for the first time did he realize
all that the children of the circus had done for the parish.
His heart was gladdened when he saw an old lady of the Grey "clan"
smiling sweetly as she accepted Alois Maise's proffer of her little
gilt-edge hymnbook. He smiled to himself as Hetty Maise made room for
Kitty Farwell when the latter, arriving late, found her own pew
occupied. His smile broadened into a grin as he watched them singing
from the same book, held at arm's length, as if they still were afraid
of each other.
The program "passed off" much as all Christmas Eve services do, an
occasional prompting, a song a trifle off key, a crying baby quickly
hushed with peppermints or crackers.
But beneath it all there was a deep undercurrent of some unexplainable
feeling. A ruddy glow suffused Miss Hetty's cheeks. Robert Grey felt the
presence of some great unknown joy. The primary youngsters lisping their
faltering words, the men lighting the candles that sent forth the
glorious message sparkling from the trees, all seemed moved.
"Was the angels' song, 'Peace, good will,' at last to be realized? was
it finally to find its true response in the forgiving, loving hearts of
his faction-split congregation?" that was the minister's hopeful
thought. Wise in experience, he recognized this pervading
influence--knew that it only needed an impulse, like a spark in a powder
magazine, to bring about its expression.
At last it was all over but Pearl's song. A dainty figure dressed
entirely in white stepped reverently before the altar--the sweet charm
of childish innocence making its appeal even before a note was sung.
The tense silence was broken. Sweet tones with throbbing notes of
appeal, carrying with them that Christmas message of immeasurable love,
penetrated every corner of the house of worship and the heart of every
listener. The story that she sung--that oft-repeated but never old
message of love, of peace, of good-will, that binds the heart to God and
makes the whole world kin--yes they had heard it often--but now their
hearts, long irritated by selfish pride and hate, yielded to this
sweet-voiced appeal, so softly yet so compellingly beating on these
fast-crumbling barriers.
The song was ended. For a moment there was hushed silence. Then
Jeoffrey, then Herman Grey Lane, Miss Hetty, Robert Grey--everyone
arose, and the minister stood before them with tears streaming from his
eyes and falteringly yet fervently pronounced upon them the benediction.
After the doxology had been sung with more fervor than melody, things
happened so fast that Pearl and Periwinkle never could get them
straightened out. Very little was said, but people smiled at one another
through tears and clasped hands silently. And strangest of all Mr. Grey
and Aunt Hetty were leaving church together, and seemed to have actually
forgotten their existence. But she turned at the door, and they heard
her say softly:
"The children, Robert, the dear children!" and she came back and kissed
them as she had never done before.
"Peri shall go to college in a few years," said Mr. Grey, "and Pearl
shall study music." Then he kissed them also and Miss Hetty with a
pretty blush called him their Uncle Robert.
The last candle on the tree twinkled and went out. Pearl, borne aloft in
Uncle Robert's arms, had grown very tired and sleepy. It was Peri who
told her the next day how the minister had come up just as they were
leaving and had spoken some words that sounded very much like a
benediction.
FINIS
* * * * *
Transcriber's Notes:
Obvious punctuation errors repaired.
Page 21, "particulary" changed to "particularly". (particularly
impressed them)
Page 23, "though" changed to "thought". (always thought herself)
Page 25, "kow" changed to "know". (person, I know)
Page 29, "Joeffrey" changed to "Jeoffrey". (Jeoffrey Maise was)
Page 32, "Kity" changed to "Kitty". (Kitty was quite)
Page 43, "billards" changed to "billiards". (never play billiards)
Page 50, "to to" changed to "to". (rooted to the)
Page 53, "walzing" changed to "waltzing". (waltzing his table)
Page 58, "a a" changed to "a". (her a silver mirror)
Page 60, "immeasureable" changed to "immeasurable". (of immeasurable
love)