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A Daughter of the Land

Page 55

He looked at her with keen appreciation of her physical freshness

and mental strength, and manoeuvred patiently toward the point

where he would dare ask blankly how many there were in her family,

and on exactly how many acres her father paid tax. He decided it

would not do for at least a week yet; possibly he could raise the

subject casually with someone down town who would know, so that he

need never ask her at all. Whatever the answer might be, it was

definitely settled in his own mind that Kate was the best chance

he had ever had, or probably ever would have. He mapped out his

campaign. This week, before he must go, he would be her pupil and

her slave. The holiday week he would be her lover. In the spring

he would propose, and in the fall he would marry her, and live on

the income from her land ever afterward. It was a glowing

prospect; so glowing that he seriously considered stopping school

at once so that her could be at the courting part of his campaign

three times a day and every evening. He was afraid to leave for

fear people of the village would tell the truth about him. He

again studied Kate carefully and decided that during the week that

was coming, by deft and energetic work he could so win her

approval that he could make her think that she knew him better

than outsiders did. So the siege began.

Kate had decided to try making him work, to see if he would, or

was accustomed to it. He was sufficiently accustomed to it that

he could do whatever she suggested with facility that indicated

practice, and there was no question of his willingness. He urged

her to make suggestions as to what else he could do, after he had

made all the needed repairs about the house and premises. Kate

was enjoying herself immensely, before the week was over. She had

another row of wood corded to the shed roof, in case the winter

should be severe. She had the stove she thought would warm her

room polished and set up while he was there to do it. She had the

back porch mended and the loose board in the front walk replaced.

She borrowed buckets and cloths and impressed George Holt for the

cleaning of the school building which she superintended. Before

the week was over she had every child of school age who came to

the building to see what was going on, scouring out desks,

blacking stoves, raking the yard, even cleaning the street before

the building.

Across the street from his home George sawed the dead wood from

the trees and then, with three days to spare, Kate turned her

attention to the ravine. She thought that probably she could teach

better there in the spring than in the school building. She and

George talked it over. He raised all the objections he could

think of that the townspeople would, while entirely agreeing with

her himself, but it was of no use. She over-ruled the proxy

objections he so kindly offered her, so he was obliged to drag his

tired body up the trees on both banks for several hundred yards

and drop the dead wood. Kate marshalled a corps of boys who would

be her older pupils and they dragged out the dry branches, saved

all that were suitable for firewood, and made bonfires from the

remainder. They raked the tin cans and town refuse of years from

the water and banks and induced the village delivery man to haul

the stuff to the river bridge and dump it in the deepest place in

the stream. They cleaned the creek bank to the water's edge and

built rustic seats down the sides. They even rolled boulders to

the bed and set them where the water would show their markings and

beat itself to foam against them. Mrs. Holt looked on in

breathless amazement and privately expressed to her son her

opinion of him in terse and vigorous language. He answered

laconically: "Has a fish got much to say about what happens to it

after you get it out of the water?"

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