The Love Story of Abner Stone Read online

  II

  In the spring of 1860, I was a lodger in a respectable boarding-house onChestnut Street, in Louisville. My father--God rest his soul--had passedaway ten years before, and I was able to live comfortably upon theincome of my modest inheritance, as I was his sole child, and my dearmother was to me but an elusive memory of childhood. Sometimes, in stillevenings just before I lit my student's lamp, and I sat alone musing, Iwould catch vague glimpses of a sweet, pure face with calm, grayeyes--but that was all. No figure, no voice, not even her hair, butsometimes my mind would picture an aureole around her head. I haveoften wondered why she was taken from me before I could have known her,but I have also striven not to be rebellious. But she must have been anunusual woman, for my father never recovered from her loss, and to theday of his death he wore a tress of her hair in a locket over his heart.I have it now, and I wear it always.

  I was of a timid disposition, and retiring nature, and so myacquaintances were few, and of close friends I had not one. My morningsand evenings were spent with my books, and in the afternoons I tooksolitary walks, often wandering out into the country, if the weather wasfine, for the blue sky had a charm for me, and I loved to look at thedistant hills,--the hazy and purple undulations which marked thehorizon. And Nature was never the same to me. Always changing, alwayssome beauty before undiscovered bursting on my sight, and her limitlesshalls were full of paintings and of songs of which I would never tire.Then, as evening closed in, and I would reluctantly turn back to mycrowded quarters, the sordid streets and the cramped appearance ofeverything would fret me, and almost make me envious of the sparrowperched on the telegraph wire over my head. For he, at least, was liftedabove this thoughtless, hurrying throng among which I was compelled topass, and the piteous, supplicating voice of the blind beggar at thecorner did not remind him that even thus he might some day become. Andthus, when my feet brought me to the line of traffic, as I returnedhome, I would unconsciously hasten my steps, for the moil and toil of acity's strife I could not bear.

  In the spring of 1860, these long walks to the country became morefrequent. I had been cooped up for four rigorous months, apredisposition to taking cold always before me as a warning that I mustbe careful in bad weather. And the confines of a fourteen by eighteenroom naturally become irksome after weeks and weeks of intimateacquaintance. It is true there were two windows to my apartment. Aglance from one only showed me the side of a house adjoining the one inwhich I stayed, but the other gave me a view of a thoroughfare, and bythis window I sat through many a bleak winter day, watching thepassers-by. One night there was a sleet, and when I looked out the nextmorning, everything was covered in a gray coat of ice. A young maplegrew directly under my window, and its poor head was bent over as thoughin sorrow at the treatment it had to endure, and its branches hunglistlessly in their icy case, with a frozen raindrop at the end of eachtwig. The sidewalks were treacherous, and I found some amusement inwatching the pedestrians as they warily proceeded along the slipperypavement, most of them treading as though walking on egg-shells. Therewent an old gentleman who must have had business down town, for I hadseen him pass every day. This morning he carried a stick in his hand,and I discovered that it was pointed with some sharp substance thatwould assist him, for every time he lifted it up, it left a little whitespot in the coating of ice. There went a schoolboy, helter-skelter,swinging his books by a strap, running and sliding along the pavement inprofound contempt for its dangers. A jaunty little Miss with fur wrapsand veiled face, but through the thin obstruction I could plainly seetwo rosy cheeks, and a pair of dancing eyes. Her tiny feet, likewise,passed on without fear, and she disappeared. Heaven grant they may restas firm on every path through life!

  Next came an aged woman, who moved with faltering feet, and always keptone hand upon the iron fence enclosing the small yard, as a support.Each step was taken slowly, and with trepidation, and I wished for themoment that I was beside her, to lend her my arm. Some errand of mercyor dire necessity called her forth on such a perilous venture, and Ifelt that, whatever the motive be, it would shield her from mishap. Andso they passed, youth and age, as the day wore on. In the afternoon theold gentleman re-passed, and I saw that his back was a little morestooped, and he leaned heavier on his stick. For each day adds weight tothe shoulders of age.

  And now a miserable cur came sniffing along the gutter on the oppositeside of the street. His ribs showed plainly through his dirty yellowcoat, the scrubby hair along his back stood on end, and his tail washeld closely between his legs. And so he tipped along, half-starved,vainly seeking some morsel of food. He stopped and looked up, shiveringvisibly as the cold wind pierced him through and through, then trottedto the middle of the street, and began nosing something lying there. Ahandsome coupe darted around the corner, taking the centre of the road.The starving cur never moved, so intent was he on obtaining food, andthus it happened that a pitiful yelp of pain reached my ears, muffled bythe closed window. The coupe whirled on its journey, and below, in thechill, desolate grayness of a winter afternoon, an ugly pup sat howlingat the leaden skies, his right foreleg upheld, part of it dangling in avery unnatural manner. A pang of compassion for the dumb unfortunatestirred in my breast, but I sat still and watched. He tried to walk, butthe effort was a failure, and again he sat down and howled, this timewith his meagre face upturned to my window. The street was empty, as faras I could see, for twilight was almost come, and cheery firesides weremore tempting than slippery pavements and stinging winds. The muffledtones of distress became weaker and more despairing, and I could endurethem no longer. I quickly arose and cast off my dressing-gown andslippers. In less than a minute I had on shoes, coat, and great-coat,and was quietly stealing down the stairs. Tenderly I took the shivering,whining form up in my arms, casting my eyes around and breathing a sighof relief that no one had seen, and thanking my stars, as I entered myroom, that I had not encountered my landlady, who had a great aversionto cats and dogs.

  It was little enough of surgery I knew, veterinary or otherwise, but asimpleton could have seen that a broken leg was at least one of theinjuries my charge had suffered. I laid the dirty yellow object down onthe heavy rug before the fire, and he stopped the whining, and histrembling, too, as soon as the soothing heat began to permeate hishalf-frozen body. I knew there was a pine board in my closet, and fromthis I made some splints and bound up the broken limb as gently as Icould, but my fingers were not very deft nor my skill more thanordinary, and as a consequence a few fresh howls were the result. But atlast it was done, and then I made an examination of the other limbs,finding them as nature intended they should be, with the exception of afew scars and their unnatural boniness. So I got one of my old coats andmade a bed on the corner of the hearth, to which I proceeded totransfer my rescued cur. He was grateful, as dogs ever are for akindness, and licked my hands as I put him down. And he found strengthsomehow to wag his tail in token of thankfulness, so I felt repaid formy act of mercy, and very well satisfied. A surreptitious visit to thedining-room resulted in a purloined chunk of cold roast beef, and two orthree dry, hard biscuits, which I found in the corner of a cupboard. Thusladen with my plunder, I started back, and in the hall came face to facewith my boarding-house mistress.

  "Why, Mr. Stone, what in the world!" she began, before I could open mymouth or put my hands behind my back.

  "I--that is--Mrs. Moss, I have a friend with me to-night who is veryeccentric. He has been out in the cold quite a while, and he dislikesmeeting strangers, so that I thought I would let him thaw out in myroom while I came down and got us a little bite. You needn't expect usat supper, for I have enough here for both."

  "If it pleases you, Mr. Stone, I have no objections. But I should beglad to send your meals to your room as long as your friend remains."

  I had reached the foot of the stair, and was now going up it.

  "He leaves to-morrow, Mrs. Moss,--I think. Thank you for your kindness,"and I dodged into my room and shut the door.

  My charge was waiting whe
re I had left him, with bright eyes ofanticipation. I took a newspaper and spread it on the floor close up tohim, and depositing the result of my foraging expedition on this, Istood up and watched him attack the beef with a vigor I did not supposehe possessed.

  "Enjoy it, you little wretch!" I muttered, as he bolted one mouthfulafter another. "I came nearer telling a lie for you, than I ever did inmy life before."

  Then I made myself comfortable again, drew up my easy-chair, and lit mylamp, and with pipe and book beguiled the hours till bed-time.