Reels and Spindles: A Story of Mill Life

Regrets were now, as always, useless, and Cleena's open disdain of Hallam's suggestion sent him limping angrily away; though Amy laughed over her own "valuable contribution to the solution of the dilemma," and by her intentional use of the longest words at hand caused Fayette to regard her with a wonderment that was ludicrous in itself.

"Well, Goodsoul, we've helped a lot. Ask our 'Rep-Dem-Prob' what his 'boys' would do."

"What for no? Sure, he's more sense nor the whole of us. Say, me gineral, what's the way out?"

Fayette colored with pride. He had an inordinate vanity, and, like most of his sort, he possessed an almost startling keenness of intelligence in some respects, as contrasted with his foolishness in others. Moreover, he had been disciplined by poverty, and had always lived among working people and, for a long time, about the carpet mills.

"Well, the 'Supe's' force-pump."

"Hmm, I know, I know. But what's the 'Supe' an' his pump? Is he fish, flesh, or fowl, eh?"

"He's the 'Supe' to the mill. Ain't ye any sense?"

"No. None left after botherin' with you. What's it, Miss Amy?"

"I know. You mean Mr. Metcalf, don't you?"

"Yes."

"What would he do? How could he help us?"

"Lend me the donkey. I'll ride and tell him. All them houses – see them mill cottages, down yonder?"

"Certainly. They look very pretty from here, with all the trees about them."

"They've got wells. Once in six months the wells has to be cleared out. That's orders. Me an' another fellow goes down 'em, after the pump's drawed out all it can. We bail 'em out. I clean cisterns, too. Ain't another fellow in the village as good at a cistern as me. See, I'm slim. I can get down a man-hole 't nobody else can. Shall I go?"

"I'll ask Hallam."

Who, upon consultation, replied: —

"I suppose it's the only thing we can do, but it does go against my inclination to ask favors of anybody."

"Hal, that's silly. We must send Fayette to Mr. Metcalf, and will you write the note, or shall I?"

"You, since you've seen him, personally."

"Which is the only way I could see him," laughed the girl, and ran into the house to find a sheet of paper. Then the mill boy was given his choice of the burros, to ride as messenger; and having selected Balaam, departed down the slope in high glee. When he reached the mill, and Mr. Metcalf was at liberty to see him, he began a voluble description of all that had occurred since his chance meeting with Amy in the wood; but the superintendent cut the story short.

"Now, see here, 'Bony.' This is the chance of your life. Understand? They are, I should think, the very nicest folks you ever saw. Well, treat them square. None of your monkey shines nor nonsense. Do everything you can to help them. Of course you can have the pump, though you can't carry it up to 'Hardscrabble' donkey-back. That fellow is as black as his brother, or sister, is white. They're the prettiest donkeys I ever saw. How my youngsters would like such. Well, go round to John. There's no teaming to be done this morning, and he shall take the pump there in the wagon. He'll help you too, no doubt, for a small payment."

"Say, 'Supe.'"

"Well?"

"I don't believe they've got any money. Don't look so they had a cent. Ain't it queer? With all them purty things an' the way they act an' talk. Ain't like nobody I ever saw before. Ain't never saw anybody liked each other so much. I'm goin' to stay."

"Have they asked you?"

"No."

"Well, run along and get hold of John before he goes home for a nap, as he might, with nothing needed here."

Then, when Fayette had left him, Mr. Metcalf took up Amy's note and reread it.

The second perusal pleased the gentleman even more than the first. He thought that the little letter was very characteristic of the girl he had met, and he specially liked her statement that his former kindness presupposed a later one. So he stopped John, the teamster, as he was driving out of the mill yard, with the request: —

"You stay up there all day, if you can be of any use. Got your dinner with you? and the horses'? Good enough. I've heard about that family being turned out from their old home, and whether it was justly done or not doesn't alter the fact of its hardness. Lend them a hand, as if it were for me, John, and I'll make it all right with you."

"It's all right already, sir. I saw that girl, when she was down here that day; saw her take her fine little handkerchief out of her pocket and wipe that idiot's, or next door to idiot, wipe his lips as nice as if he was her own brother. Ain't one of the mill girls'd do that. They'd be too dainty. She wasn't, because she was quality. It always tells. Pity though that such folks have so little common sense. Now – "

But Mr. Metcalf warded off any further talk of the good John, who had lived at Ardsley all his life and knew the history of the Kaye household almost better than they knew it themselves.

"I'll ask you to tell me about them another time. Just now I guess you'd better hurry to get them a decent drink of water. Hold on, 'Bony.' Ride over to the office door. I'll send a note back to Miss Kaye, and want you to carry her a little basket."

So this was the note which answered Amy's, and that proved its writer to be a gentleman, even though he had begun life a humble ash-boy in just such a mill as he now managed so ably: —

"My dear Miss Amy: The kindness is wholly on your side in allowing me to serve you, and I hope you will command me in any further matter wherein I can be of use.

"I am sending the pump by John Young, our teamster, with instructions to remain under your orders for the rest of the day. You will find that 'Bony' thoroughly understands the business of well-cleaning, but you will have to restrain him from venturing into any great hazard, because, poor lad, he has not the caution to balance his daring.

"I am offering, also, a little basket of fruit which came my way this morning, and which looks, I fancy, as if it wanted to be eaten by just such a girl as you.

    "Faithfully yours,
    "William Metcalf."

When Amy read this note aloud to Hallam and Cleena, she did so in a proud and happy voice.

"Well, I've written letters for mother, and father, too, sometimes, but I've not had many of my own. This is. I'm going to keep it always. The very first one that has come here. Isn't he just the dearest man? Oh! I am so happy I must just sing. It's such a beautiful world, after all, and maybe we've had all our old things taken away just to teach us that folks are better than things. I feel as if I'd come out of a musty room into the open air."

"Amy Kaye! You should be ashamed of yourself. Have you no heart at all? As for musty rooms, if you can find any to beat these at 'Spite House,' you'll do well."

"I know. I'm 'bad,' of course, but come on. I'll fetch you all father's tubes and brushes that are in such a muddle, and you can sort them right near the well, and watch John fix it, and take care of Fayette; I'm going in and help Cleena, in any way I can."

Amy's cheerfulness was certainly infectious. It was also helpful to Hallam's gloomy mood that just then there should be the well and cistern cleaning, Mr. Young having discovered a cistern beneath a pile of decayed boards, at a little distance from the house. But the water in both being unfit for use, Amy bravely picked up a couple of pails and started down hill to their new neighbor's cottage.

"Wait, Amy, I'll rig up something," called the cripple; and by the aid of a rope, a barrel stave, and some wire he managed to hang the pails on either side Pepita's saddle. "So all you'll have to do will be walk up and down and make her behave," referring to Pepita's uncertain temper.

"If I had a barrel I'd better that job," said John the teamster. "I'd drive down once and get all you needed for the day."

"But there isn't any barrel that will hold water," answered the girl. "So I'll play 'Jack and Jill' with Pepita, as long as Cleena wishes. Besides, the cottage children think she's beautiful, and they are so kind they help me fill the pails each trip, as well as give us the water in them."

John wiped his brow and looked admiringly upon her. "Keep that spirit, lass, and it'll make small difference to you whether your purse is empty or full. But 'give' you the water? I should say yes. The Lord gave it to them in the first place, free as the air of heaven. Well, there'll be water to spare up here, too, soon, for we've got the pump about ready for work."

It was a long time, though, before any impression was made upon the accumulation of water in the deep well. After a while, however, less came with each draft, and it was thicker and fouler. Finally, the pump ceased to be of any use, and was drawn up and laid beside the broken curb. Then came the interesting part of the task, as well as the perilous.

Keeping an eye upon all of Fayette's movements, John had allowed him "to boss the job," partly because the lad did fully understand his business, and partly to give him pleasure. But now was need for utmost caution.