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In the very chinks of the stone walls dark green leaves hung out, and beauty and growth had crept even into the beds of the sandy furrows and lined them with weeds. On the broken sod walls of the old pigsty chick-weeds flourished, and ice-plants lifted heir transparent leaves. Waldo was at work in the wagon-house again. He was making a kitchen table for Em.
For he had caught his speckled gobbler and put him down at the foot of the stairs in the wagon-house cellar; and he got a sheet of hemlock bark, four feet long by two or three feet wide, such as are peeled off hemlock logs, and sold at tanneries, for the turkey to stand on.
Waldo did not wait till she returned. He put his tools together, ready for tomorrow, and walked slowly out. At the side of the wagon-house there was a world of bright sunshine, and a hen with her chickens was scratching among the gravel. Waldo seated himself near them with his back against the red-brick wall.
After they had gone, Polly and Eleanor wandered around at a loss for something to do. Being Sunday, their sports were limited to a quiet time. So they decided to visit the corrals and see Noddy and Choko, as the burros had been neglected by their riders during the past few days of the excitement over gold. They were passing the wagon-house, when Polly caught hold of Eleanor's arm for silence.
As the long curls gathered in heaps before his plane, he paused for an instant now and again to throw one down to a small naked nigger, who had crept from its mother, who stood churning in the sunshine, and had crawled into the wagon-house.
Waldo folded his arms closely, and lay down. "Farewell, adieu!" said Bonaparte. "May the blessing of my God and my father's God rest on you, now and evermore." With these words the head and nose withdrew themselves, and the light vanished from the window. After a few moments the boy, lying in the wagon, heard stealthy footsteps as they passed the wagon-house and made their way down the road.
She laid the spars on the ground within the shed and returned for more, going to and fro till her whole manufactured stock were deposited here. This erection was the wagon-house of the chief man of business hereabout, Mr. George Melbury, the timber, bark, and copse-ware merchant for whom Marty's father did work of this sort by the piece.
"That isn't unlikely," said Uncle Beamish, "and that's the reason we did not pass Crocker's. But here we are, wherever it is, and here we've got to stay till mornin'." We found hay and oats and a pump in the corner of the wagon-house, and having put the horse in the stall and made him as comfortable as possible with some old blankets, we returned to the house, bringing our valises with us.
"Well, then," said Euphemia, "let's put it up." I agreed instantly to this proposition, and we went to look for a ladder. We found one in the wagon-house, and carried it out to the sign-post in the front of the house. It was raining, gently, during these performances, but we had on our old clothes, and were so much interested in our work that we did not care for a little rain.
If he goes he takes his road through Stone's Woods, and comes home the back way by the wagon-house. The boy has grit, real grindstone grit: therefore he keeps this up, and sooner or later he has it out with the old farmer about his clothes. "Well, well, don't rare and pitch like a flax-break: we'll see about it," says the old gentleman.
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