United States or Grenada ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
At the bright picture she made, her flax-gold hair tied in a knob on top of her head that it might not get tangled, the room fell silent instantly, and every eye was turned upon her. Nothing abashed by the scrutiny, she made her way sedately down the room and across to McWha's bench. Unable to ignore her, and angry at the consciousness that he was embarrassed, McWha eyed her with a grim stare.
The whole room burst into a roar of laughter at the sight of his wrath. Snatching his cap from its peg, he strode furiously out to the stable, slamming the door behind him. In their delight over McWha's discomfiture the woodsmen quite forgot the feelings of Rosy-Lilly. For a second or two she stood motionless, her lips and eyes wide open with amazement.
But Rosy-Lilly put out her hands to him confidingly. "I'm goin' to let you hear me my prayers," she said, her clear, baby voice carrying every syllable to the furthest corner of the room. An ugly light flamed into McWha's eyes, and he sprang to his feet, brushing the child rudely aside. "That's some o' Jimmy Brackett's work!" he shouted. "It's him put 'er up to it, curse him!"
She continued, indeed, to cast at him eyes of pleading reproach, but always from a distance, and such appeals rolled off McWha's crude perception like water off a musk rat's fur. He had nothing "agin her," as he would have put it, if only she would keep out of his way. But Rosy-Lilly, true to her sex, was not vanquished by any means, or even discouraged. She was only biding her time.
Just as Johnson went down, there arose a great bellowing cry of rage and anguish; then Red McWha's big form shot past, leaping far out upon the logs. Over the sickening upheaval he bounded this way and that, with miraculous sure-footedness. He reached the pitching log whereon Rosy-Lilly still clung. He clutched her by the frock. He tucked her under one arm like a rag-baby.
Of course, it was generally recognized that McWha was not bound, by any law or obligation, to take any notice of the child, still less to "make a fuss over her," with the rest of the camp. But Jimmy Brackett expressed the popular sentiment when he growled, looking sourly at the back of McWha's unconscious red head bowed ravenously over his plate of beans
Then, hurt as much by the laughter of the room as by McWha's rebuff, she burst into tears, and stood hiding her face with both hands, the picture of desolation. When the men realized that she thought they were laughing at her, they shut their mouths with amazing promptitude, and crowded about her. One after another picked her up, striving to console her with caresses and extravagant promises.
The Boss had to hold him up so that he could drink; and when he had feverishly gulped about a quart, he lay back on his pillow with a huge sigh, declaring weakly that he was all right. "Ye got off mighty easy, Red," said the Boss, cheerfully, "considerin' the heft o' the knot 'at hit ye. But you McWhas was always hard to kill." McWha's hand was drooping loosely over the edge of the bunk.
Then he turned, balancing himself for an instant, and came leaping back towards shore. A great shout of wonder and joy went up to be hushed in a second as a log reared high in McWha's path and hurled him backwards. Right down into the whirl of the dreadful grist he sank.
"We mus' let 'im sleep, Rosy-Lilly says," decreed Johnson, with an emphasis which penetrated McWha's unsympathetic consciousness, and elicited a non-committal grunt. When supper was ready, Rosy-Lilly hung around him for a minute or two before dragging her chair up to the table. She evidently purposed paying him the compliment of sitting close beside him and letting him cut her bacon for her.
Word Of The Day