Mary Gusta

J >> Joseph C. Lincoln >> Mary Gusta


"Why, changin' your clothes, of course."

"Do folks dress up for funerals?"

"Course they do. What a question!"

"I didn't know. I--I've never had one."

"Had one?"

"I mean I've never been to any. What do they dress up for?"

"Why--why, because they do, of course. Now don't ask any more questions,
but hurry up. Where are you goin' now, for mercy sakes?"

"I was goin' back after Rose and Rosette. They ought to be dressed up,
too, hadn't they?"

"The idea! Playin' dolls today! I declare I never see such a child!
You're a reg'lar little--little heathen. Would you want anybody playin'
dolls at your own funeral, I'd like to know?"

Mary-'Gusta thought this over. "I don't know," she answered, after
reflection. "I guess I'd just as soon. Do they have dolls up in Heaven,
Mrs. Hobbs?"

"Mercy on us! I should say not. Dolls in Heaven! The idea!"

"Nor cats either?"

"No. Don't ask such wicked questions."

Mary-'Gusta asked no more questions of that kind, but her conviction
that Heaven--Mrs. Hobbs' Heaven--was a good place for housekeepers and
grown-ups but a poor one for children was strengthened.

They entered the house by the kitchen door and ascended the back stairs
to Mary-'Gusta's room. The shades in all the rooms were drawn and the
house was dark and gloomy. The child would have asked the reason for
this, but at the first hint of a question Mrs. Hobbs bade her hush.

"You mustn't talk," she said.

"Why mustn't I?"

"Because 'tain't the right thing to do, that's why. Now hurry up and get
dressed."

Mary-'Gusta silently wriggled out of her everyday frock, was led to the
washstand and vigorously scrubbed. Then Mrs. Hobbs combed and braided
what she called her "pigtails" and tied a bow of black ribbon at the end
of each.

"There!" exclaimed the lady. "You're clean for once in your life,
anyhow. Now hurry up and put on them things on the bed."

The things were Mary-'Gusta's very best shoes and dress; also a pair of
new black stockings.

When the dressing was finished the housekeeper stood her in the middle
of the floor and walked about her on a final round of inspection.

"There!" she said again, with a sigh of satisfaction. "Nobody can say
I ain't took all the pains with you that anybody could. Now you come
downstairs and set right where I tell you till I come. And don't you say
one single word. Not a word, no matter what happens."

She took the girl's hand and led her down the front stairs. As they
descended Mary-'Gusta could scarcely restrain a gasp of surprise. The
front door was open--the FRONT door--and the child had never seen it
open before, had long ago decided that it was not a truly door at all,
but merely a make-believe like the painted windows on the sides of her
doll house. But now it was wide open and Mr. Hallett, arrayed in a suit
of black, the coat of which puckered under the arms, was standing on the
threshold, looking more soothy than ever. The parlor door was open also,
and the parlor itself--the best first parlor, more sacred and forbidden
even than the "smoke room"--was, as much of it as she could see, filled
with chairs.

Mrs. Hobbs led her into the little room off the parlor, the "back
settin'-room," and, indicating the haircloth and black walnut sofa
against the wall, whispered to her to sit right there and not move.

"Mind now," she whispered, "don't talk and don't stir. I'll be back by
and by."

Mary-'Gusta, left alone, looked wide-eyed about the little back
sitting-room. It, too, was changed; not changed as much as the front
parlor, but changed, nevertheless. Most of the furniture had been
removed. The most comfortable chairs, including the rocker with the
parrot "tidy" on the back, had been taken away. One or two of the
bolt-upright variety remained and the "music chair" was still there, but
pushed back into a corner.

Mary-'Gusta saw the music chair and a quiver of guilty fear tinged along
her spine; that particular chair had always been, to her, the bright,
particular glory of the house. Not because it was beautiful, for that it
distinctly was not; but because of the marvellous secret hidden beneath
its upholstered seat. Captain Marcellus had brought it home years and
years before, when he was a sea-going bachelor and made voyages to
Hamburg. In its normal condition it was a perfectly quiet and ugly
chair, but there was a catch under one arm and a music box under the
seat. And if that catch were released, then when anyone sat in it, the
music box played "The Campbell's Are Coming" with spirit and jingle.
And, moreover, kept on playing it to the finish unless the catch was
pushed back again.

To Mary-'Gusta that chair was a perpetual fascination. She had been
expressly forbidden to touch it, had been shut in the dark closet more
than once for touching it; but, nevertheless, the temptation was always
there and she had yielded to that temptation at intervals when Mrs.
Hobbs and her stepfather were out. And the last time she had touched it
she had broken the catch. She had wound up the music box, after hearing
it play, but the catch which made it a perfectly safe seat and not a
trap for the unwary had refused to push back into place. And now
there it was, loaded and primed, so to speak, and she was responsible.
Suppose--Oh, horrible thought!--suppose anyone should sit in it that
afternoon!

She gasped and jumped off the sofa. Then she remembered Mrs. Hobbs'
parting command and stopped, hesitating. Mr. Hallett, standing at the
end of the hall, by the front door, heard her move and tiptoed to the
sitting-room.

"What's the matter, little girl?" he whispered, soothingly.

"No-nothin'," gasped Mary-'Gusta.

"You're sure?"

"Ye-yes, sir."

"All right. Then you set down on the sofa and keep still. You mustn't
make any noise. The folks are comin' now. Set right down on the sofy,
that's a good girl!"

So back to the sofa went Mary-'Gusta, trembling with apprehension. From
her seat she could see along the hall and also through the other door
into the "big settin'-room," where, also, there were rows of chairs.
And, to her horror, these chairs began to fill. People, most of them
dressed in church-going garments which rattled and rustled, were
tiptoeing in and sitting down where she could see them and they could
see her. She did not dare to move now; did not dare go near the music
chair even if going near it would have done any good. She remained upon
the sofa, and shivered.

A few moments later Mrs. Hobbs appeared, looking very solemn and
Sundayfied, and sat beside her. Then Judge and Mrs. Baxter were shown
into the little room and took two of the remaining chairs. The Judge
bowed and smiled and Mrs. Baxter leaned over and patted her hand.
Mary-'Gusta tried to smile, too, but succeeded only in looking more
miserable. Mrs. Hobbs whispered to her to sit up straight.

There was a steady stream of people through the front door now. They all
entered the parlor and many stayed there, but others passed on into the
"big settin'-room." The chairs there were almost all taken; soon all
were taken and Mr. Hallett was obliged to remove one of those in the
small room. There were but two left empty, one a tall, straight antique
with a rush seat, a family heirloom, and the other the music chair.
Mary-'Gusta stared at the music chair and hoped and hoped.

Mr. Sharon, the minister, entered and shook hands with the Judge and
Mrs. Baxter and with Mrs. Hobbs and Mary-'Gusta. He also patted the
child's hand. Mrs. Hobbs whispered to him, with evident pride, that it
was "goin' to be one of the biggest funerals ever given in Ostable." Mr.
Sharon nodded. Then, after waiting a moment or two, he tiptoed along the
front hall and took up his stand by the parlor door. There was a final
rustle of gowns, a final crackle of Sunday shirtfronts, and then a
hushed silence.

The silence was broken by the rattle of wheels in the yard. Mr. Hallett
at the door held up a warning hand. A moment later he ushered two people
in at the front door and led them through the parlor into the "big
settin'-room." Mary-'Gusta could see the late comers plainly. They were
both men, one big and red-faced and bearded, the other small, and thin,
and white-haired. A rustle passed through the crowd and everyone turned
to look. Some looked as if they recognized the pair, but they did not
bow; evidently it was not proper to bow at funerals.

Mr. Hallett, on tiptoe, of course, glided into the little room from
the big one and looked about him. Then, to the absolute stupefaction
of Mary-'Gusta, he took the rush-seated chair in one hand and the music
chair in the other and tiptoed out. He placed the two chairs in the back
row close to the door of the smaller room and motioned to the two men to
sit.

Mary-'Gusta could stand it no longer. She was afraid of Mrs. Hobbs,
afraid of Mr. Hallett, afraid of the Baxters and all the staring crowd;
but she was more afraid of what was going to happen. She tugged at the
housekeeper's sleeve.

"Mrs. Hobbs!" she whispered, quiveringly. "Oh, Mrs. Hobbs!"

Mrs. Hobbs shook off the clutch at her sleeve.

"Sshh!" she whispered. "Sshh!"

"But--but please, Mrs. Hobbs--"

"Sshh! You mustn't talk. Be still. Be still, I tell you."

The small, white-haired man sat down in the rush-seated chair. The big
man hesitated, separated his coat tails, and then he, too, sat down.

And the music box under the seat of the chair he sat in informed
everyone with cheerful vigor that the Campbells were coming, Hurrah!
Hurrah!

Captain Shadrach Gould arose from that chair, arose promptly and without
hesitation. Mr. Zoeth Hamilton also rose; so did many others in the
vicinity. There was a stir and a rustle and whispered exclamations.
And still the news of the imminent arrival of the Campbells was tinkled
abroad and continued to tinkle. Someone giggled, so did someone else.
Others said, "Hush!"

Mrs. Judge Baxter said, "Heavens and earth!"

Mrs. Hobbs looked as if she wished to say something very much indeed.

Captain Shadrach's bald spot blazed a fiery red and he glared about him
helplessly.

Mr. Hallett, who was used to unexpected happenings at funerals--though,
to do him justice, he had never before had to deal with anything quite
like this--rushed to the center of the disturbance. Mrs. Hobbs
hastened to help. Together and with whisperings, they fidgeted with
the refractory catch. And still the music box played--and played--and
played.

At last Mr. Hallett gave it up. He seized the chair and with it in his
arms rushed out into the dining-room. Captain Shadrach Gould mopped his
face with a handkerchief and stood, because there was nowhere for him
to sit. Mrs. Hobbs, almost as red in the face as Captain Shad himself,
hastened back and collapsed upon the sofa. Mr. Sharon cleared his
throat.

And still, from behind the closed door of the dining-room the music
chair tinkled on:

"The Campbells are coming! Hurrah! Hurrah!" Poor little guilty,
frightened Mary-'Gusta covered her face with her hands.




CHAPTER II


"And now, gentlemen," said Judge Baxter, "here we are. Sit down and make
yourselves comfortable. I shall have a good deal to say and I expect to
surprise you. Sit down."

Captain Gould and Mr. Hamilton were in the Judge's library at his home.
The funeral was over, all that was mortal of Marcellus Hall had been
laid to rest in the Ostable cemetery, and his two friends and former
partners had, on their return from that cemetery, stopped at the
Judge's, at the latter's request. He wished, so he said, to speak with
them on an important matter.

"Why don't you sit down, Captain?" asked the Judge, noticing that,
although Zoeth had seated himself in the rocker which his host had
indicated, Shadrach was still standing.

Captain Shadrach laid a hand on the back of the armchair and regarded
the lawyer with a very grave face, but with a twinkle in his eye.

"To tell you the truth, Judge," he said, slowly, "I don't cal'late I
ever shall set down again quite so whole-hearted as I used to. You spoke
of a surprise, didn't you? I've had one surprise this afternoon that's
liable to stay with me for a spell. I'm an unsuspectin' critter,
generally speakin', but after that--Say, you ain't got a brass band nor
fireworks hitched to THIS chair, have you?"

Judge Baxter laughed heartily. "No," he said, as soon as he could speak.
"No, Captain, my furniture isn't loaded."

The Captain shook his head. "Whew!" he whistled, sitting down gingerly
in the armchair. "Well, that's a mercy. I ain't so young as I used to be
and I couldn't stand many such shocks. Whew! Don't talk to ME! When that
devilish jig tune started up underneath me I'll bet I hopped up three
foot straight. I may be kind of slow sittin' down, but you'll bear me
out that I can GET UP sudden when it's necessary. And I thought the dum
thing never would STOP."

Mr. Hamilton stirred uneasily. "Hush, hush, Shadrach!" he pleaded.
"Don't be so profane. Remember you've just come from the graveyard."

"Come from it! By fire! There was a time there when I'd have been
willin' to go to it--yes, and stay. All I wanted was to get out of that
room and hide somewheres where folks couldn't look at me. I give you my
word I could feel myself heatin' up like an airtight stove. Good thing I
didn't have on a celluloid collar or 'twould have bust into a blaze. Of
all the dummed outrages to spring on a man, that--"

"Shadrach!"

"There, there, Zoeth! I'll calm down. But as for swearin'--well, if
you knew how full of cusswords I was there one spell you wouldn't
find fault; you'd thank me for holdin' 'em in. I had to batten down my
hatches to do it, though; I tell you that."

Mr. Hamilton turned to their host. "You'll excuse Shadrach, won't you,
Judge," he said, apologetically. "He don't mean nothin' wicked, really.
And he feels as bad as I do about Marcellus's bein' took."

"Course I do!" put in the Captain. "Zoeth's always scared to death for
fear I'm bound to the everlastin' brimstone. He forgets I've been to sea
a good part of my life and that a feller has to talk strong aboard ship.
Common language may do for keepin' store, but it don't get a vessel
nowheres; the salt sort of takes the tang out of it, seems so. I'm
through for the present, Zoeth. I'll keep the rest till I meet the swab
that loaded up that chair for me."

The Judge laughed again. Then he opened his desk and took from a drawer
two folded papers.

"Gentlemen," he said, gravely, "I asked you to come here with me because
there is an important matter, a very important matter, which I, as
Captain Hall's legal adviser, must discuss with you."

Captain Shadrach and Zoeth looked at each other. The former tugged at
his beard.

"Hum!" he mused. "Somethin' to do with Marcellus's affairs, is it?"

"Yes."

"Want to know! And somethin' to do with me and Zoeth?"

"Yes, with both of you. This," holding up one of the folded papers, "is
Captain Hall's will. I drew it for him a year ago and he has appointed
me his executor."

Zoeth nodded. "We supposed likely he would," he observed.

"Couldn't get a better man," added Shadrach, with emphasis.

"Thank you. Captain Hall leaves all he possessed--practically all; there
is a matter of two hundred dollars for his housekeeper, Mrs. Hobbs, and
a few other personal gifts--but he leaves practically all he possessed
to his stepdaughter, Mary Lathrop."

Both his hearers nodded again. "We expected that, naturally," said the
Captain. "It's what he'd ought to have done, of course. Well, she'll be
pretty well fixed, won't she?"

Judge Baxter shook his head. "Why, no--she won't," he said, soberly.
"That is a part of the surprise which I mentioned at first. Captain Hall
was, practically, a poor man when he died."

That the prophesied surprise was now a reality was manifest. Both men
looked aghast.

"You--you don't mean that, Judge?" gasped Zoeth.

"Poor? Marcellus poor?" cried Shadrach. "Why--why, what kind of talk's
that? He didn't have no more than the rest of us when--" he hesitated,
glanced at Zoeth, and continued, "when the firm give up business back in
'79; but he went to sea again and made considerable, and then he made a
whole lot in stocks. I know he did. You know it, too, Zoeth. How could
he be poor?"

"Because, like so many other fortunate speculators, he continued to
speculate and became unfortunate. He lost the bulk of his winnings in
the stock market and--well, to be quite frank, Captain Hall has been a
broken man, mentally as well as physically, since his wife's death and
his own serious illness. You, yourselves, must have noticed the change
in his habits. From being an active man, a man of affairs, he became
almost a hermit. He saw but few people, dropped the society of all his
old friends, and lived alone--alone except for his various housekeepers
and Mary-'Gusta--the little girl, I mean. You must have noticed the
change in his relations with you."

Mr. Hamilton sighed. "Yes," he said, "we noticed he never came to see us
and--and--"

"And wasn't over'n above sociable when we come to see him," finished
Captain Shadrach. "Yes, we noticed that. But I say, Judge, he must have
had SOME money left. What became of it?"

"Goodness knows! He was a child, so far as money matters went, in his
later years. Very likely he frittered it away in more stock ventures; I
know he bought a lot of good for nothing mining shares. At any rate it
has gone, all except a few thousands. The house and land where he lived
is mortgaged up to the handle, and I imagine there are debts, a good
many of them. But whatever there is is left to Mary-'Gusta--everyone
calls her that and I seem to have caught the habit. It is left to
her--in trust."

Captain Shadrach thought this over. "In trust with you, I presume
likely," he observed. "Well, as I said afore, he couldn't have found a
better man."

"HE thought he could, two better men. I rather think he was right. You
are the two, gentlemen."

This statement did not have the effect which the Judge expected. He
expected exclamations and protests. Instead his visitors looked at each
other and at him in a puzzled fashion.

"Er--er--what was that?" queried Mr. Hamilton. "I didn't exactly seem to
catch that, somehow or 'nother."

Judge Baxter turned to the Captain.

"You understood me, didn't you, Captain Gould?" he asked.

Shadrach shook his head.

"Why--why, no," he stammered; "it didn't seem to soak in, somehow.
Cal'late my head must have stopped goin'; maybe the shock I had a spell
ago broke the mainspring. All I seem to be real sartin of just now is
that the Campbells are comin'. What was it you said?"

"I said that Captain Marcellus Hall has left whatever property he owned,
after his creditors are satisfied, to his stepdaughter. He has left it
in trust until she becomes of age. And he asks you two to accept that
trust and the care of the child. Is that plain?"

It was plain and they understood. But with understanding came,
apparently, a species of paralysis of the vocal organs. Zoeth turned
pale and leaned back in his chair. Shadrach's mouth opened and closed
several times, but he said nothing.

"Of course," went on Baxter, "before I say any more I think you should
be told this: It was Captain Hall's wish that you jointly accept the
guardianship of Mary-'Gusta--of the girl--that she live with you and
that you use whatever money comes to her from her stepfather's estate
in educating and clothing her. Also, of course, that a certain sum each
week be paid you from that estate as her board. That was Marcellus's
wish; but it is a wish, nothing more. It is not binding upon you in any
way. You have a perfect right to decline and--"

Captain Shadrach interrupted.

"Heave to!" he ordered, breathlessly. "Come up into the wind a minute,
for mercy sakes! Do you mean to say that me and Zoeth are asked to
take that young-one home with us, and take care of her, and dress her,
and--and eat her, and bring her up and--and--"

He paused, incoherent in his excitement. The Judge nodded.

"Yes," he replied, "that is what he asks you to do. But, as I say, you
are not obliged to do it; there is no legal obligation. You can say no,
if you think it best."

"If we think--for thunder sakes, Baxter, what was the matter with
Marcellus? Was he out of his head? Was he loony?"

"No, he was perfectly sane."

"Then--then, what--Zoeth," turning wildly to Mr. Hamilton, who still
sat, pale and speechless, in his chair; "Zoeth," he demanded, "did you
ever hear such craziness in your life? Did you ever HEAR such stuff?"

Zoeth merely shook his head. His silence appeared to add to his friend's
excitement.

"Did you?" he roared.

Zoeth muttered something to the effect that he didn't know as he ever
did.

"You don't know! Yes, you do know, too. Speak up, why don't you? Don't
sit there like a ship's figgerhead, starin' at nothin'. You know it's
craziness as well's I do. For God sakes, say somethin'! TALK!"

Mr. Hamilton talked--to this extent:

"Hush, Shadrach," he faltered. "Don't be profane."

"Profane! Pup-pup-profane! You set there and--and--Oh, jumpin', creepin'
Judas! I--I--" Language--even his language--failed to express his
feelings and he waved his fists and sputtered. Baxter seized the
opportunity.

"Before you make your decision, gentlemen," he said, "I hope you will
consider the situation carefully. The girl is only seven years old; she
has no relations anywhere, so far as we know. If you decline the trust
a guardian will have to be appointed by the courts, I suppose. Who that
guardian will be, or what will become of the poor child I'm sure I don't
know. And Captain Marcellus was perfectly sane; he knew what he was
doing."

Shadrach interrupted.

"He did!" he shouted. "Well, then, I must say--"

"Just a minute, please, I have a letter here which he wrote at the time
he made his will. It is addressed to both of you. Here it is. Shall I
read it to you, or had you rather read it yourselves?"

Zoeth answered. "I guess maybe you'd better read it, Judge," he said. "I
don't cal'late Shadrach nor me are capable of readin' much of anything
just this minute. You read it. Shadrach, you be still now and listen."

The Captain opened his mouth and raised a hand. "Be still, Shadrach,"
repeated Zoeth. The hand fell. Captain Gould sighed.

"All right, Zoeth," he said. "I'll keep my batch closed long's I can.
Heave ahead, Judge."

The letter was a long one, covering several sheets of foolscap. It
began:


To Shadrach, Gould and Zoeth Hamilton, my old partners and friends.


DEAR SHAD AND ZOETH:

I am writing this to you because I have known you pretty much all my
life and you are the only real friends I have got in this world.


"I was his friend, or I tried to be," commented Baxter, interrupting
his reading; "but he considered you two, and always spoke of you, as his
oldest and nearest friends. He has often told me that he knew he could
depend on you. Now listen."

The letter went on to state that the writer realized his health was
no longer good, that he was likely to die at any time and was quite
reconciled.


I should be glad to go [Captain Hall had written], if it was not for one
thing. Since my wife was took from me I care precious little for life
and the sooner it ends the better. That is the way I look at it. But I
have a stepdaughter, Mary Augusta Lathrop, and for her sake I must stick
to the ship as long as I can. I have not been the right kind of father
to her. I have tried, but I don't seem to know how and I guess likely
I was too old to learn. When I go she won't have a relation to look out
for her. That has troubled me a lot and I have thought about it more
than a little, I can tell you. And so I have decided to leave her in
your care. I am hoping you will take charge of her and bring her up to
be a good girl and a good woman, same as her mother was before her. I
know you two will be just the ones for the job.


"Jumpin' fire!" broke in Shadrach, the irrepressible.

"Hush, Shadrach," continued Mr. Hamilton. "Go on, Judge."

Baxter continued his reading. The letter told of the will, of the
property, whatever it might be, left in trust for the child, and of the
writer's desire that it might be used, when turned into money, for her
education. There were two pages of rambling references to stocks
and investments, the very vagueness of these references proving the
weakening shrewdness and lack of business acumen of Captain Hall in his
later years. Then came this:


When this first comes to you I know you will both feel you are not
fitted to take charge of my girl. You will say that neither of you has
had any children of his own and you have not got experience in that
line. But I have thought it over and I know I am right. I couldn't find
better pilots afloat or ashore. Shadrach has been to sea and commanded
vessels and is used to giving orders and having them carried out. He
sailed mate with me for a good many voyages and was my partner ashore. I
know him from truck to keelson. He is honest and able and can handle
any craft. He will keep the girl on the course she ought to sail in
her schooling and such and see she does not get on the rocks or take to
cruising in bad company. Zoeth has had the land training. He is a pious
man and as good outside the church as he is in, which is not always the
case according to my experience. He has the name all up and down the
Cape of being a square, honest storekeeper. He will look out for Mary's
religious bringing up and learn her how to keep straight and think
square. You are both of you different from each other in most ways but
you are each of you honest and straight in his own way. I don't leave
Mary in the care of one but in the charge of both. I know I am right.