The Awakening of Helena Richie - Page 123/229

But of course the Wright family was in a most distressed state. The

mother was overwhelmed with anxious grief; the father was consumed

with mortification and blazing with anger.

"He didn't take his second-weight flannels," moaned Mrs. Wright; "he

will catch cold. Oh, where is he? And nobody knows how to cook his

hominy for him but our Betsy. Oh, my boy!"

"Good riddance," said Sam senior between his teeth; "ungrateful

puppy!"

Dr. Lavendar had his hands full. To reassure the mother, and tell her

that the weather was so warm that Sam couldn't use the second-weight

flannels if he had them, and that when he came back Betsy's hominy

would seem better than ever--"Old Chester food will taste mighty

good, after a few husks," said Dr. Lavendar, cheerfully--to tell Sam

senior that a grateful puppy would be an abnormal monster, and to

refrain from telling him that whatever a father sows he is pretty sure

to reap--took time and strength. So Dr. Lavendar did not enter very

heartily into William King's plans for a surprise-party. However, he

did promise to come, if the doctor succeeded in getting Old Chester

together.

Meantime he and Danny and Goliath went up to The Top to tell Benjamin

Wright about Sam's Sam. The grandfather displayed no surprise.

"I knew he was going to clear out," he said; he was poking about among

his canaries when Dr. Lavendar came in, and he stopped and sat down,

panting. "These fowls wear me out," he complained. "Whiskey? No? Dear

me! Your senior warden's got you to sign the pledge, I suppose? Well,

I will; to drink the cub's health. He'll amount to something yet, if

he doesn't eat his fatted calf too soon. Fatted calf is very bad for

the digestion."

"Wright, I don't suppose you need to be told that you behaved

abominably Sunday night? Do you know where Sam is?"

"I don't; and I don't want to. Behaved abominably? He wouldn't shake

hands with me! Sam told me he was going, and I gave him some money--

well! why do you look at me like that? Gad-a-mercy, ain't he my

grandson? Besides, since our love-feast, ain't it my duty to help his

father along? I've had a change of heart," he said, grinning; "where's

your joy over the one sinner that repenteth? I'm helping young Sam, so

that old Sam may get some sense. Lavendar, the man who has not learned

what a damned fool he is, hasn't learned anything. And if I mistake

not, the boy will teach my very respectable son, who won't smoke and

won't drink, that interesting fact. As for the boy, he will come back

a man, sir. A man! Anyway, I've done my part. I offered him money and

advice--like the two women grinding at the mill, one was taken and the

other was left. Yes; I've done my part. I've evened things up. I gave

him his first tobie, and his first drink, and now I've given him a

chance to see the world--which your senior warden once said was a

necessary experience for a young man. I've evened things up!" He

thrust a trembling hand down into the blue ginger-jar for some orange-

skin. "He said he'd pay the money back; I said, 'Go to thunder!' As if

I cared about the money. I've got him out of Old Chester; that's all I

care about."