University of Virginia Library

7. VII.
THE JOURNEY.

At noon Mr. Ducklow returned.

“Did ye take the bonds?” was his wife's first question.

“Of course I did! Ye don't suppose I 'd go away and
leave 'em in the house, not knowin' when you 'd be comin'
home?”

“Wal, I did n't know. And I did n't know whuther to
believe Taddy or not. O, I 've had such a fright!”

And she related the story of her pursuit of the minister.

“How could ye make such a fool of yerself? It 'll git
all over town, and I shall be mortified to death. Jest like
a woman to git frightened!”

“If you had n't got frightened, and made a fool of yourself,
yellin' fire, 't would n't have happened!” retorted
Mrs. Ducklow.

“Wal! wal! say no more about it! The bonds are
safe.”

“I was in hopes you 'd change 'em for them registered
bonds Reuben spoke of.”

“I did try to, but they told me to the bank it could n't
be did. Then I asked 'em if they would keep 'em for
me, and they said they would n't object to lockin' on 'em
up in their safe; but they would n't give me no receipt,
nor hold themselves responsible for 'em. I did n't know
what else to do, so I handed 'em the bonds to keep.”

“I want to know if you did now!” exclaimed Mrs.
Ducklow, disapprovingly.

“Why not? What else could I do? I did n't want to
lug 'em around with me forever. And as for keepin' 'em

hid in the house, we 've tried that!” and Ducklow unfolded
his weekly newspaper.

Mrs. Ducklow was placing the dinner on the table, with
a look which seemed to say, “I would n't have left the
bonds in the bank; my judgment would have been better
than all that. If they are lost, I sha' n't be to blame!”
when suddenly Ducklow started and uttered a cry of consternation
over his newspaper.

“Why, what have ye found?”

“Bank robbery!”

“Not your bank? Not the bank where your bonds — ”

“Of course not; but in the very next town! The safe
blown open with gunpowder! Five thousand dollars in
Gov'ment bonds stole!”

“How strange!” said Mrs. Ducklow. “Now what did
I tell ye?”

“I believe you 're right,” cried Ducklow, starting to his
feet. “They 'll be safer in my own house, or even in my
own pocket!”

“If you was going to put 'em in any safe, why not put
'em in Josiah's? He 's got a safe, ye know.”

“So he has! We might drive over there and make a
visit Monday, and ask him to lock up — yes, we might
tell him and Laury all about it, and leave 'em in their
charge.”

“So we might!” said Mrs. Ducklow.

Laura was their daughter and Josiah her husband, in
whose honor and sagacity they placed unlimited confidence.
The plan was resolved upon at once.

“To-morrow 's Sunday,” said Ducklow, pacing the floor.
“If we leave the bonds in the bank over night, they must
stay there till Monday.”

“And Sunday is jest the day for burglars to operate!”
added Mrs. Ducklow.

I 've a good notion — let me see!” said Ducklow,
looking at the clock. “Twenty minutes after twelve!
Bank closes at two! An hour and a half, — I believe I
could git there in an hour and a half. I will. I 'll take a
bite and drive right back.”

Which he accordingly did, and brought the tape-tied
envelope home with him again. That night he slept with
it under his pillow. The next day was Sunday; and although
Mr. Ducklow did not like to have the bonds on his
mind during sermon-time, and Mrs. Ducklow “dreaded
dreadfully,” as she said, “to look the minister in the face,”
they concluded that it was best, on the whole, to go to
meeting, and carry the bonds. With the envelope once
more in his breast-pocket (stitched in this time by Mrs.
Ducklow's own hand), the farmer sat under the droppings
of the sanctuary, and stared up at the good minister, but
without hearing a word of the discourse, his mind was so
engrossed by worldly cares, until the preacher exclaimed
vehemently, looking straight at Ducklow's pew, —

“What said Paul? `I would to God that not only thou,
but also all that hear me this day, were both almost and
altogether such as I am, except these bonds.' `Except these
bonds'!” he repeated, striking the Bible. “Can you, my
hearers, — can you say with Paul, `Would that all were
as I am, except these bonds'?”

A point which seemed for a moment so personal to himself,
that Ducklow was filled with confusion, and would
certainly have stammered out some foolish answer, had not
the preacher passed on to other themes. As it was, Ducklow
contented himself with glancing around to see if the
congregation was looking at him, and carelessly passing his
hand across his breast-pocket to make sure the bonds were
still there.

Early the next morning, the old mare was harnessed,

and Taddy's adopted parents set out to visit their daughter,
— Mrs. Ducklow having postponed her washing for the
purpose. It was afternoon when they arrived at their
journey's end. Laura received them joyfully, but Josiah
was not expected home until evening. Mr. Ducklow put
the old mare in the barn, and fed her, and then went in to
dinner, feeling very comfortable indeed.

“Josiah 's got a nice place here. That 's about as slick
a little barn as ever I see. Always does me good to come
over here and see you gittin' along so nicely, Laury.”

“I wish you 'd come oftener, then,” said Laura.

“Wal, it 's hard leavin' home, ye know. Have to git
one of the Atkins boys to come and sleep with Taddy the
night we 're away.”

“We should n't have come to-day, if 't had n't been for
me,” remarked Mrs. Ducklow. “Says I to your father, says
I, `I feel as if I wanted to go over and see Laury; it seems
an age since I 've seen her,' says I. `Wal,' says he, `s'pos'n'
we go!' says he. That was only last Saturday; and this
morning we started.”

“And it 's no fool of a job to make the journey with the
old mare!” said Ducklow.

“Why don't you drive a better horse?” said Laura,
whose pride was always touched when her parents came to
visit her with the old mare and the one-horse wagon.

“O, she answers my purpose. Hoss-flesh is high, Laury.
Have to economize, these times.”

“I 'm sure there 's no need of your economizing!”
exclaimed Laura, leading the way to the dining-room.
“Why don't you use your money, and have the good of it?”

“So I tell him,” said Mrs. Ducklow, faintly. — “Why,
Laura! I did n't want you to be to so much trouble to git
dinner jest for us! A bite would have answered. Do see,
father!”