Anne's House of Dreams - L. M. Montgomery [14]
‘And you got up and gave him that steak – all that steak,’ said Mrs Doctor Dave, with a kind of triumphant reproof.
‘Well, there wasn’t anything else to give him,’ said Captain Jim deprecatingly. ‘Nothing a dog’d care for, that is. I reckon he was hungry, for he made about two bites of it. I had a fine sleep the rest of the night but my dinner had to be sorter scanty – potatoes and point, as you might say. The dog, he lit out for home this morning. I reckon he weren’t a vegetarian.’
‘The idea of starving yourself for a worthless dog!’ sniffed Mrs Doctor.
‘You don’t know but he may be worth a lot to somebody,’ protested Captain Jim. ‘He didn’t look of much account, but you can’t go by looks in jedging a dog. Like meself, he might be a real beauty inside. The First Mate didn’t approve of him, I’ll allow. His language was right down forcible. But the First Mate is prejudiced. No use in taking a cat’s opinion of a dog. ’Tennyrate, I lost my dinner, so this nice spread in this dee-lightful company is real pleasant. It’s a great thing to have good neighbours.’
‘Who lives in the house among the willows up the brook?’ asked Anne.
‘Mrs Dick Moore,’ said Captain Jim – ‘and her husband,’ he added, as if by way of an afterthought.
Anne smiled, and deduced a mental picture of Mrs Dick Moore from Captain Jim’s way of putting it; evidently a second Mrs Rachel Lynde.
‘You haven’t many neighbours, Mistress Blythe,’ Captain Jim went on. ‘This side of the harbour is mighty thinly settled. Most of the land belongs to Mr Howard up yander past the Glen, and he rents it out for pasture. The other side of the harbour, now, is thick with folks – ’specially MacAllisters. There’s a whole colony of MacAllisters – you can’t throw a stone but you hit one. I was talking to old Leon Blacquiere the other day. He’s been working on the harbour all summer. “They’re nearly all MacAllisters over thar,” he told me. “Dare’s Neil MacAllister and Sandy MacAllister and William MacAllister and Alec MacAllister and Angus MacAllister – and I believe dare’s de Devil MacAllister.”’
‘There are nearly as many Elliotts and Crawfords,’ said Doctor Dave, after the laughter had subsided. ‘You know, Gilbert, we folk on this side of Four Winds have an old saying – “From the conceit of the Elliotts, the pride of the MacAllisters, and the vain-glory of the Crawfords, good Lord deliver us.”’
‘There’s a plenty of fine people among them, though,’ said Captain Jim. ‘I sailed with William Crawford for many a year, and for courage and endurance and truth that man hadn’t an equal. They’ve got brains over on that side of Four Winds. Mebbe that’s why this side is sorter inclined to pick on ’em. Strange, ain’t it, how folks seem to resent anyone being born a mite cleverer than they be.’
Doctor Dave, who had a forty years’ feud with the over-harbour people, laughed and subsided.
‘Who lives in that brilliant emerald house about half a mile up the road?’ asked Gilbert.
Captain Jim smiled delightedly.
‘Miss Cornelia Bryant. She’ll likely be over to see you soon, seeing you’re Presbyterians. If you were Methodists she wouldn’t come at all. Cornelia has a holy horror of Methodists.’
‘She’s quite a character,’ chuckled Doctor Dave. ‘A most inveterate man-hater!’
‘Sour grapes?’ queried Gilbert, laughing.
‘No, ’tisn’t sour grapes,’ answered Captain Jim seriously. ‘Cornelia could have had her pick when she was young. Even yet she’s only to say the word to see the old widowers jump. She jest seems to have been born with a sort of chronic spite agin men and Methodists. She’s got the bitterest tongue and the kindest heart in Four Winds. Wherever there’s any trouble, that woman is there, doing everything to help in the tender-est way. She never says a harsh word about another woman, and if she likes to card us poor scallawags of men down I reckon our tough old hides can stand it.’
‘She always speaks well of you, Captain Jim,’ said Mrs Doctor.
‘Yes, I’m afraid so. I don’t half-like it. It makes me feel as if there must be something sorter unnatteral about me.’
7
THE SCHOOLMASTER