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Updated: May 3, 2025
The next visiting day found him at Janie's bedside. Instead of being clean-shaven, an inconsiderable moustache was feeling its way through his upper lip. "Where's your sailor clothes?" asked Janie weakly. Nosey looked round to reassure himself that they were not overheard. "I done a bunk!" he whispered. Janie gazed at him with dismayed eyes. "Not not deserted?" Nosey nodded.
"It's worth yer while, mon, ye ne'er heard sae blithe a voice as Janie's." Half doubting, yet amused at the old Scotchman's manner, he had made an appointment for hearing Janie, and afterward wondered why he had done so, as he felt sure that he was to listen to the vocal efforts of a child whose singing chanced to please an old man whose knowledge of music was probably meagre.
"Janie's boy!" repeated Olive slowly. "Why why, he must be a big boy now. Almost grown up." Her husband did not speak. He was pacing the floor, his hands in his pockets. "And this man wants to see you about him," said Olive. Then, after a moment, she added timidly: "Are you goin', Zelotes?" "Goin'? Where?" "To New York? To see this lawyer man?" "I? Not by a jugful!
"Why why should he want to see you, Zelotes? And the boy why why, that's HER boy. It's Janie's boy he must mean, Zelotes." Her husband nodded. "Hers and that blasted furriner's," he muttered. "I suppose so." "Oh, DON'T speak that way, Zelotes! Don't! He's dead." Captain Lote's lips tightened. "If he'd died twenty years ago 'twould have been better for all hands," he growled.
I have heard you play and sing, oh, so sweetly, I have heard little Janie's bird-like voice at home, and Sandy McLeod has often played his pipes for me, but to-day I am to hear the violins and listen to the great singer of whom you have told me. Oh, I can hardly wait to get there, and to hear the music."
The captain opened the stove door, regarded the red-hot coals for an instant, and then slammed the door shut again. "I know, Mother," he said grimly. "It's for the sake of Janie's half that I'm takin' in the other." "But but, Zelotes, don't you think he seems like a nice boy?" The twinkle reappeared in Captain Lote's eyes. "I think HE thinks he's a nice boy, Mother," he said.
An eleven-year-old boy was in the lead. He was the oldest of the five children. He carried on his head a box filled with tea, sugar, and bread. An eight-year-old child followed him carrying a teakettle and cooking pots. Next came a three-year-old who held tight to little Janie's hand. Then came Mary carrying a baby girl and a bundle of food. The children slipped in the mud.
The man watched him wistfully, wondering whether Mikky's appeal could reach the hardened little sinner; and, sighing at the wickedness of the world, went on his way grimly trying to make a few things better. That night "the kids" were gathered in front of little Janie's window, for she was too weak to go out with them, and Buck delivered a lesson in ethical culture.
I managed, and neighbors helped me to forget, and and I could not tell you Andy. I hoped I never would be obliged to." "Go on!" Andy still held his mother's hand, but with infinite gentleness now. Tears stood in Janie's eyes, and the human need for sympathy met an answering thrill in the heart of the son.
She had heard the knock, but not until the lonely prayer was finished would she rise. That was Janie's way. A second knock, louder than the first, sounded, and with it the woman's solemn "Amen." "Be not so hasty, stranger," she muttered, as she withdrew the bar; "learn to wait for your betters." The door swung back, and into the dim light of the bare room stepped a tall man in Continental dress.
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