Further Adventures of Lad [96]
so violently as to make him pant.
Lad did not understand this. And, as with most things he did not understand, it vexed him. This morning, for example,--the heat of the day and the fatigue of his ramble down through the rose garden to the lake and back, had set it to thumping painfully. He was glad to lie at peace in his beloved cave, in the cool music-room; and sleep away the hours until his deities should return from that miserable dog-show. He slept.
And so an hour wore on; and then another and another.
At the show, the Mistress developed one of her sick headaches. She said nothing of it. But the Master saw the black shadows grow, under her eyes; and the color go out of her face; and he noted the little pain-lines around her mouth. So, as soon as the collie judging was over, he made her get into the car; and he drove her home, meaning to return to Hawthorne in time for the afternoon judging of specials and of variety classes.
Meanwhile, as the morning passed, Lad was roused from his fitful old-age slumber by the sound of crying. Into his dreams seeped the distressing sound. He woke; listened; got up painfully and started toward the front door.
Halfway to the door, his brain cleared sufficiently for him to recognize the voice that had awakened him. And his leisurely walk merged into a run.
Ruloff and Sonya had been working all morning in the peach orchard. To the child's chagrin, Lad was nowhere in sight. Every time she passed the house she loitered as long as she dared, in hope of getting a glimpse of him.
"I wonder where Laddie is," she ventured, once, as her father was filling a basket for her to carry.
"The dogs have gone to a silly show," grunted Ruloff, piling the basket. "The superintendent told me, yesterday. To waste a whole day with dogs! Pouf! No wonder the world is poor! Here, the basket is full. Jump!"
Sonya picked up the heavy load--twice as big as usual were the baskets given her to carry, now that the interfering Master and the superintendent were not here to forbid--and started laboriously for the house.
Her back ached with weariness. Yet, in the absence of her protectors, she dared not complain or even to allow herself the luxury of walking slowly. So, up the hill, she toiled; at top speed. Ruloff had finished filling another basket, and he prepared to follow her. This completed the morning's work. His lunch-pail awaited him at the barn. With nobody to keep tabs on him, he resolved to steal an extra hour of time, in honor of Labor Day--at his employer's expense.
Sonya pattered up the rise and around to the corner of the house. There, feeling her father's eye on her, as he followed; she tried to hasten her staggering steps. As a result, she stumbled against the concrete walk. Her bare feet went from under her.
Down she fell, asprawl; the peaches flying in fifty directions. She had cut her knee, painfully, against the concrete edge. This, and the knowledge that Ruloff would most assuredly punish her clumsiness, made her break out in shrill weeping.
Among the cascaded peaches she lay, crying her eyes out. Up the hill toward her scrambled Ruloff; basket on shoulder; yelling abuse better fitted for the ears of a balky mule than for those of a hurt child.
"Get up!" he bawled. "Get up, you worthless little cow! If you've spoiled any of those peaches or broke my basket, I'll cut the flesh off your bones."
Sonya redoubled her wailing. For, she recognized a bumpy substance beneath her as the crushed basket. And these baskets belonged to Ruloff; not to the Place.
For the accidental breaking of far less worthwhile things, at home, she and her brothers and sisters had often been thrashed most unmercifully: Her lamentations soared to high heaven. And her father's running feet sounded like the tramp of Doom.
There is perhaps no other terror so awful as that of an ill treated child at the approach of punishment. A man or woman, menaced by danger from law or from private foe, can either fight it out or run away from it. But there is no hiding place for a child from a
Lad did not understand this. And, as with most things he did not understand, it vexed him. This morning, for example,--the heat of the day and the fatigue of his ramble down through the rose garden to the lake and back, had set it to thumping painfully. He was glad to lie at peace in his beloved cave, in the cool music-room; and sleep away the hours until his deities should return from that miserable dog-show. He slept.
And so an hour wore on; and then another and another.
At the show, the Mistress developed one of her sick headaches. She said nothing of it. But the Master saw the black shadows grow, under her eyes; and the color go out of her face; and he noted the little pain-lines around her mouth. So, as soon as the collie judging was over, he made her get into the car; and he drove her home, meaning to return to Hawthorne in time for the afternoon judging of specials and of variety classes.
Meanwhile, as the morning passed, Lad was roused from his fitful old-age slumber by the sound of crying. Into his dreams seeped the distressing sound. He woke; listened; got up painfully and started toward the front door.
Halfway to the door, his brain cleared sufficiently for him to recognize the voice that had awakened him. And his leisurely walk merged into a run.
Ruloff and Sonya had been working all morning in the peach orchard. To the child's chagrin, Lad was nowhere in sight. Every time she passed the house she loitered as long as she dared, in hope of getting a glimpse of him.
"I wonder where Laddie is," she ventured, once, as her father was filling a basket for her to carry.
"The dogs have gone to a silly show," grunted Ruloff, piling the basket. "The superintendent told me, yesterday. To waste a whole day with dogs! Pouf! No wonder the world is poor! Here, the basket is full. Jump!"
Sonya picked up the heavy load--twice as big as usual were the baskets given her to carry, now that the interfering Master and the superintendent were not here to forbid--and started laboriously for the house.
Her back ached with weariness. Yet, in the absence of her protectors, she dared not complain or even to allow herself the luxury of walking slowly. So, up the hill, she toiled; at top speed. Ruloff had finished filling another basket, and he prepared to follow her. This completed the morning's work. His lunch-pail awaited him at the barn. With nobody to keep tabs on him, he resolved to steal an extra hour of time, in honor of Labor Day--at his employer's expense.
Sonya pattered up the rise and around to the corner of the house. There, feeling her father's eye on her, as he followed; she tried to hasten her staggering steps. As a result, she stumbled against the concrete walk. Her bare feet went from under her.
Down she fell, asprawl; the peaches flying in fifty directions. She had cut her knee, painfully, against the concrete edge. This, and the knowledge that Ruloff would most assuredly punish her clumsiness, made her break out in shrill weeping.
Among the cascaded peaches she lay, crying her eyes out. Up the hill toward her scrambled Ruloff; basket on shoulder; yelling abuse better fitted for the ears of a balky mule than for those of a hurt child.
"Get up!" he bawled. "Get up, you worthless little cow! If you've spoiled any of those peaches or broke my basket, I'll cut the flesh off your bones."
Sonya redoubled her wailing. For, she recognized a bumpy substance beneath her as the crushed basket. And these baskets belonged to Ruloff; not to the Place.
For the accidental breaking of far less worthwhile things, at home, she and her brothers and sisters had often been thrashed most unmercifully: Her lamentations soared to high heaven. And her father's running feet sounded like the tramp of Doom.
There is perhaps no other terror so awful as that of an ill treated child at the approach of punishment. A man or woman, menaced by danger from law or from private foe, can either fight it out or run away from it. But there is no hiding place for a child from a