The door to Mary Jane and Ellen’s room opened ever so softly and in the dawning light a scarcely discernible figure moved to the bedside. The figure bent over Mary Jane and began to sing “Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you!”
The sweet strains intruded happily on a horrible jumble of mixed-up nocturnal impressions. Things weren’t going so well in her dreams, it seemed, and the scrambled condition of the bed clothes with the covers half on the floor was proof of some nighttime conflicts.
At last Mary Jane began to realize that this was “for real.” Marguerite had slipped in to awaken her with the present she had promised.
“Oh, you precious old dear! It’s – oh, I just love you!” and she gave her eldest sister such a bear hug that her elbow boxed poor Ellen’s ears.
“What – why –! Hey, cut it out, Mary Jane!” Ellen turned over crossly until she too began to awaken more completely.
Marguerite had placed a large box in her little sister’s hand. “Hurry and open it! I want to see if it fits. If it does, you can wear it today!” Marguerite was a little ashamed of Mary Jane’s “hand-me-down” hodge podge wardrobe in comparison to Arlin’s just-so clothes.
“Oh, goody!” and no time was lost in modeling the sweet little red print. Ellen looked on happily. She never seemed to be anything but large-hearted and generous when it came to Mary Jane’s happiness or good fortune. There weren’t many “selfish bones” in her.
What a beautiful beginning to her birthday! In anybody’s book breakfast was special at the Hillman’s, always including delightful southern biscuits, butter and honey. Besides, there was hot oatmeal, stewed apricots, home-cured sausages and superb fresh fried eggs with plenty of savory coffee. Ellen spilled the beans accidentally about the birthday, and a quick trip upstairs produced a box of candy and two crisp dollar bills for Mary Jane from Mrs. Eaton.
The day’s prospects were rosy indeed with Mamma’s fried chicken for dinner and a huge watermelon that was cooling down in the well. There were two wells in the yard – one dark and dangerous where black looking water could be seen far below. This was used only for cooling the butter and things that could be let far down attached to a rope. The sides had caved in and it was no longer useable. The other well was more modern, having a shaft only about ten feet deep, with the rest of the well beneath a floor in a hole only large enough for the pumping mechanism. This well was used to cool larger things such as – well, watermelons. Today’s huge baby had been placed there on Friday before the company came.
As dinner time neared, Daddy was sent out to get the watermelon. Tee, Mary Jane and Ellen were near enough to hear the request, and Tee beamed, “Oh, show me your watermelon patch!”
“We don’t have one. I tried it once and my watermelon only got – so big,” and Ellen indicated a six-inch length.
“Daddy’s getting it from the well. Want to watch?” Mary Jane queried.
“A watermelon in a well! How curious! Let’s!”
So the girls scampered after Mr. Hillman.
“Yep,” Daddy observed cheerfully, “The ice man don’t include us in his itiner-ary, it seems, so we jest cool our melons this-a-way. When I was a boy in Texas, we’d jest go out to the patch, pick out a big ‘un, and cut the heart out. Shucks, we never bothered with all them seeds. Talk about sweet! There just ain’t nothin’ to compare with them good ole Texas melons. I’m thinkin’ this here baby come from Arizony.”
As he talked, Daddy had lifted the boards from the top and had begun to hoist. A sickening thud and wet spatter caused the girls to jump. Oh, the tragedy of it! The dinner dessert – the substitute for birthday cake – lay shattered in a thousand pieces down the well.
Daddy sat on the ground and scratched his head as three pairs of eyes were trained on him.
Arlin laughed. “Don’t look so tragic! What’s so special about one little old watermelon? We’ve had a dozen this summer.”
“I don’t rightly know how to tell Mamma. She might be a wee bit upset.” Daddy smiled wryly. “I reckon I’d ought to see if they’s any room in the dog house first, eh, Mary Jane?”
“There was no rider on the horse or wagon”
But Mary Jane wasn’t listening. Her face was transfixed, unmistakable terror written there. Daddy’s head whirled in the direction of her gaze. Macey was galloping wildly toward the house; the children’s red wagon attached to a long rope which was tied to the saddle horn careened and crashed along behind her. There was no rider on horse or wagon. A boy, however, was to be seen a few yards behind sprawled upon the ground. The frightened horse rammed into the fence.
“Hold her, girls!” Daddy whispered to Mary Jane. “Pray fer the lad yonder!” It was Tod. He had apparently been in the wagon – at one time, that is. Robbie was running from the barn to his friend’s side. By now Tod was attempting to sit up.
“Careful now, boy.” Daddy warned. “Anything hurtin’ bad?”
“Naw,” Tod answered ruefully. “My knee but but – oh, – –! What made her do that?”
“Daddy, I knew she’d get scared of the wagon, but Tod had to have his way!” Robbie was indignant. “He’s so bull-headed, you can’t tell him nothin’!”
“Now, Robbie, hold yer lip. Tod here hasn’t been around livestock like you have. Just remember that. Now, Tod, jest you remember, they’s nothin’ a horse likes better than an excuse to run away. They can get so sceered and work up such a lather over a little noise that they cain’t be held no how.”
“I couldn’t get in the saddle even, Daddy. Macey heard just one little rattle and took off like greased lightning!”
“Lucky you wasn’t part-way in the saddle. Many a man’s been drug to death in jest such a situation. There, that’s it, Rob. Uhtie the wagon and carry it quiet-like away. I’ll tie Macey to this here post and we’ll take care of that knee. I expect Mom’s waitin’ dinner, too. Yep! The Lord took care of you both. We could have had a mighty sad ending to this day’s doin’s. As ‘tis – ain’t too serious, as fer as I can tell. But I’m beginnin’ to wonder, what next?”
The gracious lady that she was, Mrs. Eaton declared that Mamma’s bread and butter and chokecherry jam was more than cake, ice cream or watermelon. And she told her little son that he had learned a valuable lesson that he could perhaps remember longer than was his usual custom. She was kind, but not one to pamper.
Macey having been placed “out of bounds,” and the knee being a bit stiff, Daddy took the boys rabbit hunting in the car. As Arlin continued her interest in Clara’s paper dolls, entertainment was simple for her.
“Mother, please, won’t you have Clara paint me a set?” she begged.
“A marvelous idea, dahling! Name your price, dear, and how would a dollar per gown be? And Tee,” she added, “Mother’s just getting a superb idea! When Marguerite marries and leaves us – you don’t suppose – Clara? It’s a thought, dear, a very nice thought!”
As Daddy down in the well filled the bucket with watermelon slush to be hoisted by Clara and Jennie, he grumbled: “It beats me how you gals and Mom have to spruce up and put on the show jest ‘cause some rich woman comes to call. Now they’s plain folk, really – jest as soon eat Mom’s bread and butter.... If we’d jest quit all this fussin’ ‒.”
“Is that why you made Robbie wash the car late Thursday night when it would mostly just sit in the garage?” Clara offered cautiously.
“Too-shay, too-shay! But aren’t you a mite sassy there, girl? Here, hoist up this mess and let’s be done with it!”
Mr. Hillman was really feeling quite frustrated about their testimony. He had tried to have a Bible reading that morning, and began the story of Goliath and David, meaning to bring in the One whom David typified. But the phone had rung and Joe Mercer had come to borrow a tool. Of course, there were the blessings at the table, but he’d hoped to present more of the good tidings. “Sure beats all how the Devil gets in there a hinderin’,” he observed to his wife.
So it was that after a simple supper, he read a little from John’s gospel. The children were restless, but Mrs. Eaton listened thoughtfully.
“I’m afraid the youngsters aren’t used to this sort of thing, Mistah Hillman. But it’s what we need more of, I’m sure. It’s people like you that have made our country what it is.”
“Well, now – if ‘twas up to people we’d be in a turrible mess.” Then he read God’s appraisal of man’s heart, the same in all – “deceitful above all things and desperately wicked.”
“What’s needed most is to take the low, humble place before God, acknowledging what He says about us is true – and then accept His way out.” Daddy read a number of good solid foundation verses: “All have sinned” (Romans 3:2323For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God; (Romans 3:23)).
Glancing in the direction of Tee and Tod, he felt he had said enough.
“How about a little hymn sing folks! You young’uns don’t have to join if yer feeling too hemmed in. Lori, get over there on that organ stool! I’ll hold the lamp here so’s you can see. How about number 383?”
Lori had learned a little music, but mostly played by ear. She could make heavenly music roll out of the little pump organ like no one else in the family. As the sweet strains of “What a Friend We Have in Jesus” began to fill the room, the children ran out to play hide and seek; Mrs. Eaton moved to the davenport. Leaning back, she closed her eyes. Daddy loved to sing tenor although he did occasionally try bass. Lori could sing alto and the rest carried the melody. It was a picture – in the dim kerosene lamp light with its play of shadows around the room. It is doubtful if Daddy could have kept his feet still if he had tried. As it was, his foot kept the beat all through. How he loved this time of singing! They did “Standing on the Promises,” and “Peace, Peace, Sweet Peace.” He could never sing it without first telling us of his mother whom he lost as a lad of thirteen years. This song she had asked to be sung at her funeral.
“And that is such a comfort – knowing she loved the Savior and had that sweet peace – ‘that wonderful gift from above.’ And there’s just no other possible way you can have it in this sad old world!” he added.
Mrs. Eaton sighed and smiled–. “Ah yes, very uplifting! I’ve not heard these songs since grandmother used to take me to her church as a child.”
They left early next morning. She squeezed Mamma and Daddy’s hand as she rendered her thanks, adding, “You’ve been a help and a cheer to me – more than I can say.” Pressing a five dollar bill in Robbie’s hand she whispered, “For the wagon Tod ruined.” And to Clara she had a special smile, “Remember, my deah, we would welcome you to our household with open arms should you ever feel you’d like a job in the city.”
They were gone in a flurry of dust. Daddy turned, remarking sadly, “A fine lady to be sure, ‘but how hardly shall they that have riches enter into the kingdom,’ the Lord said. I reckon we sowed some seeds, and we trust they won’t be snatched away. I feel better about Marguerite being under her roof now.”
Robbie and Mary Jane felt they had come out ahead in spite of the strain they had experienced. And Clara, she was dollars ahead with a market for her painting. Besides, her eyes were seen to sparkle with a new light occasionally as she milked the cows or did some other chores that she disliked. It was fun at least to “toy” with the idea of taking a job in the city.