Old Caravan Days Read online

  CHAPTER XIII. FAIRY CARRIE AND THE PIG-HEADED MAN.

  Little Miami river was crossed without mishap, and the Padgetts andBreakaways took dinner together.

  Robert Day could not help noticing the difference between hisgrandmother's wagon and the wagons of the Virginians. Their wagon-bedswere built almost in the shape of the crescent moon, bending downin the centre and standing high at the ends, and they appeared halfas long again as the Ohio vehicle. The covers were full of innumerableribs, and the puckered end was drawn into innumerable puckers.

  The children took their dinners to the yellow top of a brand-newstump which, looked as if somebody had smoothed every sweet-smellingring clean on purpose for a picnic table. Some branches of the felledtree were near enough to make teeter seats for Corinne and ThrustyEllen. Jonathan and Robert stood up or kneeled against the archingroots. Dinner taken from the top of a stump has the sap of out-doorenjoyment in it; and if you have to scare away an ant, or a pop-eyedgrasshopper thuds into the middle of a plate, you still feel kindlytowards these wild things for dropping in so sociably.

  Jonathan and Thrusty Ellen were rather silent, but such remarks asthey made were solid information.

  "You don't know wher' my fawther's got his money," said Jonathan.

  This was stated so much like a dare that Robert yearned to retortthat he did know, too. As he did not know, the next best thing was topretend it was no consequence anyhow, and find out as quickly aspossible; therefore Robert Day said:

  "Ho! Maybe he hasn't any."

  "He has more gold pieces 'n ever you seen," proceeded Jonathanweightily.

  "Then why don't he give you some?" exclaimed aunt Corinne with awriggle. "I had a gold dollar, but I b'lieve that little old man witha bag on his back stole it."

  Jonathan and Thrusty Ellen made round eyes at a young damsel who hadbeen trusted with gold.

  "My fawther calls 'em yeller boys," said Jonathan. "He carries 'emand his paper money in a belt fastened round his waist under all hisclothes."

  "You don't ought to tell," said Thrusty Ellen. "Father said weshouldn't talk about it."

  "_He_ won't steal it," said Jonathan, indicating Robert withhis thumb. "_She_ won't neither," indicating aunt Corinne.

  Aunt Corinne with some sharpness assured the Virginia children thather nephew and herself were indeed above such suspicion; that MaPadgett and brother Tip had the most money, and even Zene was wellprovided with dollars; while they had silver spoons among their goodsthat Ma-Padgett said had been in the family more than fifty years!

  Jonathan and Thrusty Ellen accepted this information with muchstolidity. The grandeur of having old silver made no impression onthem. They saw that Grandma Padgett had one pair of horses hitched toher moving-wagon instead of three pairs, and they secretly rated herresources by this fact.

  It was very cheerful moving in this long caravan. When there was abend in the 'pike, and the line of vehicles curved around it, thesight was exhilarating.

  Some of the Virginians sat on their horses to drive. There was singing,and calling back and forth. And when they passed a toll-gate, all thetollkeeper's family and neighbors came out to see the array. Jonathanand Robert rode in his father's easiest wagon, while Thrusty Ellen, andher mother enjoyed Grandma Padgett's company in the carriage. As theyneared Richmond, which lay just within the Indiana line, men went aheadlike scouts to secure accommodations for the caravan. At Louisburg,the last of the Ohio villages, aunt Corinne was watching for the boundaryof the State. She fancied it stretched like a telegraph wire from poleto pole, only near the ground, so the cattle of one State could not strayinto the other, and so little children could have it to talk across,resting their chins on the cord. But when they came to the line andcrossed it there was not even a mark on the ground; not so much as afurrow such as Zene made planting corn. And at first Indiana lookedjust like Ohio. Later, however, aunt Corinne felt a difference in theStates. Ohio had many ups and downs; many hillsides full of grain baskingin the sun. The woods of Indiana ran to moss, and sometimes descended tobogginess, and broad-leaved paw-paw bushes crowded the shade; mightysycamores blotched with white, leaned over the streams: there was adreamy influence in the June air, and pale blue curtains of mist hungover distances.

  But at Richmond aunt Corinne and her nephew, both felt particularlywide awake. They considered it the finest place they had seen sincethe capital of Ohio. The people wore quaint, but handsome clothes.They saw Quaker bonnets and broad-brimmed hats. Richmond is yetcalled the Quaker city of Indiana. But what Robert Day and Corinnenoticed particularly was the array of wagons moved from street tostreet, was an open square such as most Western towns had at thatdate for farmers to unhitch their teams in, and in that open square aclosely covered wagon connected with a tent. It was nearly dark. Butat the tent entrance a tin torch stuck in the ground showed lettersand pictures on the tent, proclaiming that the only pig-headed man inAmerica was therein exhibiting himself and his accomplishments,attended by Fairy Carrie, the wonderful child vocalist.

  Before Bobaday had made out half the words, he telegraphed a messageto aunt Corinne, by leaning far out of the Brockaway wagon andlifting his finger. Aunt Corinne was leaning out of the carriage, andsaw him, and she not only lifted her finger, but violently wagged herhead.

  The caravan scouts had not been able to find lodging for all thetroops, and there was a great deal of dissatisfaction about the ratesasked by the taverns. So many of the wagons wound on to camp at theother side of the town, the Brockaways among them. But the neighborlyVirginian, in exchanging Robert for his wife and daughter at thecarriage door, assured Grandma Padgett he would ride back to herlodging-place next morning and pilot her into the party again.

  "I thank you kindly," said Grandma Padgett in old-fashioned phrase."It's growing risky for me to sleep too much in the open night air.At my age folks must favor themselves, and I'd like a bed to-night,if it is a tavern bed, and a set, table, if the vittles are tavernvittles. And we can stir out early."

  So Thrusty Ellen and Jonathan rode away with their father,unconscious of Robert and Corinne's superior feeling in stopping at atavern.

  In the tavern parlor were a lot of sumptuous paper flowers under aglass case. There were a great many stairs to climb, and a gong wassounded for supper.

  After supper Grandma Padgett made Zene take her into the stable-yard,that she might carry from the wagon some valuables which thieves ina town would be tempted to steal.

  It was about this time that Corinne and Robert Day strayed down thefront steps, consulted together and ventured down the street, cameback, and ventured again to the next corner.

  "He gave us the slip before," said Robert, "but I'd like to get agood look at him for once."

  "Would you da'st to spend your gold dollar, though," said auntCorinne.

  "Well, that's better than losin' it," he responded.

  It seemed very much better in aunt Corinne's eyes.

  "We can just run down there, and run right back after we go in,while Ma Padgett is busy."

  "Then we'll have to be spry," said Robert Day.

  Having passed the first corner they were spry, springing along thestreets with their hands locked. It was not hard to find one's wayabout in Richmond then, and the tavern was not far from the opensquare. They came upon the tent, the smoky tin torch, the crowd ofidlers, and a loud-voiced youth who now stood at the entranceshouting the attractions within.

  Robert dragged his aunt impetuously to the tent door and offered hisgold dollar to the shouter.

  "Pass right in, gentlemen and ladies," said the ill-looking youth inhis monotonous yell, bustling as if he had a rush of business, "andmake room for the crowd, all anxious to see the only pig-headed manin America, and to hear the wonderful warblings of Fairy Carrie, thechild vocalist. Admission fixed at the low figure of fifteen centsper head," said the ill-looking youth, dropping change into Robert'shand and hustling him upon the heels of Corinne who craned her necktoward the inner canvas. "Only fifteen cents, gentlemen
, and the lastopportunity to see the pig-headed man who alone is worth the price ofadmission, and has been exhibited to all the crowned heads of Europe.Fifteen cents. Five three cent pieces only. Fairy Carrie, thewonderful child vocalist, and the only living pig-headed man standingbetween the heavens and earth to-day."

  But when aunt Corinne had reached the interior of the tent, sheturned like a flash, clutched Robert Day, and hid her eyes againsthim. A number of people standing, or seated on benches, were watchingthe performances on a platform at one end of the tent.

  "He won't hurt you," whispered Robert.

  "Go 'way!" whispered aunt Corinne, trembling as if she would drivethe mere image from her thoughts.

  "It's the very thing I saw at the camp," whispered Robert.

  "Le's go out again."

  "I want my money's worth," remonstrated Robert in an injured tone."And now he's pickin' up his things and going behind a curtain. Ain'the ugly! I wonder how it feels to look that way? Why don't you standup straight and act right! Folks'll notice you. I thought you wantedto see him so bad!"

  "I got enough," responded aunt Corinne. "But there comes the littlegirl. And it's the little girl I saw in the wagon. Ain't she pretty!"

  "She ain't got a pig's head, has she?" demanded aunt Corinne.

  "She's the prettiest little girl I ever saw," responded Robertimpatiently. "I guess if she sees you she'll think, you're sheep-headed.You catch me spendin' gold dollars to take you to shows any more!"

  The shrill treble of a little child began a ballad at that time verypopular, and called "Lilly Dale." Aunt Corinne faced about and saw atiny creature, waxen-faced and with small white hands, and feet inbits of slippers, standing in a dirty spangled dress which was madeto fluff out from her and give her an airy look. Her long brown curlshung about her shoulders. But her black eyes were surrounded withbrownish rings which gave her a look of singing in her sleep, or in ahalf-conscious state. She was a delicate little being, and as shesung before the staring people, her chin creased and the corners ofher mouth quivered as if she would break into sobs if she only dared.Her song was accompanied by a hand-organ ground behind the scenes;and when she had finished and run behind the curtain, she was pushedout again in response to the hand-clapping.

  Robert Day hung entranced on this performance. But when Fairy Carriehad sung her second song and disappeared, he took hold of his aunt'sear and whispered cautiously therein:

  "I know the pig-headed man stole that little girl."

  Aunt Corinne looked at him with solemn assent. Then there were signsof the pig-headed man's returning to the gaze of the public. AuntCorinne at once grasped her nephew's elbow and pushed him from thesight. They went outside where the ill-looking youth was stillshouting, and were crowded back against the wagon by a group nowbeginning to struggle in.

  Robert proposed that they walk all around the outside, and try tocatch another glimpse of Fairy Carrie.

  They walked behind the wagon. A surly dog chained under it snappedout at them. Aunt Corinne said she should like to see Fairy Carrieagain, but Ma Padgett would be looking for them.

  At this instant the little creature appeared back of the tent.Whether she had crept under the canvas or knew some outlet to theair, she stood there fanning herself with her hands, and looking upand about with an expression which was sad through all the dusk.

  Corinne and Robert Day approached on tiptoe. Fairy Carrie continuedto fan herself with her fingers, and looked at them with a dull gaze.

  "Say!" whispered aunt Corinne, indicating the interior of the tent,"is he your pa?"

  Fairy Carrie shook her head.

  "Is your ma in there?"

  Fairy Carrie again shook her head, and her face creased as if shewere now determined in this open air and childish company to cry andbe relieved.

  "Can't you talk?" whispered aunt Corinne.

  "No," said the child.

  "Yes, you can, too! Did the show folks steal you?"

  Fairy Carrie's eyes widened. Tears gathered and dropped slowly downher cheeks.

  Aunt Corinne seized her hand. "Why, Bobaday, Padgett! You just feelhow cold her fingers are!"

  Robert did so, and shook his head to indicate that he found even herfingers in a pitiable condition.

  "You come with us to Ma Padgett," exhorted aunt Corinne in anexcited whisper. "I wouldn't stay where that pig-man is for the world."

  The dog under the wagon was growling.

  "If the pig-man stole you, Ma Padgett will have him put in jail."

  "Le's go back this way, so they won't catch her," cautioned Bobaday.

  The dog began to bark.

  Robert and Corinne moved away with the docile little child betweenthem. At the barking of the dog one or two other figures appearedbehind the tent. Fairy Carrie in her spangled dress was runningbetween Robert and Corinne into the dark.