It was a new world,indeed,that David created for Joe after that--a world that had to do with entrancing music where once was silence;delightful companionship where once was loneliness;and toothsome cookies and doughnuts where once was hunger.
The Widow Glaspell,Joe's mother,worked out by the day,scrubbing and washing;and Joe,perforce,was left to the somewhat erratic and decidedly unskillful ministrations of Betty.
Betty was no worse,and no better,than any other untaught,irresponsible twelve-year-old girl,and it was not to be expected,perhaps,that she would care to spend all the bright sunny hours shut up with her sorely afflicted and somewhat fretful brother.True,at noon she never failed to appear and prepare something that passed for a dinner for herself and Joe.
But the Glaspell larder was frequently almost as empty as were the hungry stomachs that looked to it for refreshment;and it would have taken a far more skillful cook than was the fly-away Betty to evolve anything from it that was either palatable or satisfying.
With the coming of David into Joe's life all this was changed.
First,there were the music and the companionship.Joe's father had "played in the band"in his youth,and (according to the Widow Glaspell)had been a "powerful hand for music."It was from him,presumably,that Joe had inherited his passion for melody and harmony;and it was no wonder that David recognized so soon in the blind boy the spirit that made them kin.At the first stroke of David's bow,indeed,the dingy walls about them would crumble into nothingness,and together the two boys were off in a fairy world of loveliness and joy.
Nor was listening always Joe's part.From "just touching"the violin--his first longing plea--he came to drawing a timid bow across the strings.In an incredibly short time,then,he was picking out bits of melody;and by the end of a fortnight David had brought his father's violin for Joe to practice on.
"I can't GIVE it to you--not for keeps,"David had explained,a bit tremulously,"because it was daddy's,you know;and when Isee it,it seems almost as if I was seeing him.But you may take it.Then you can have it here to play on whenever you like."After that,in Joe's own hands lay the power to transport himself into another world,for with the violin for company he knew no loneliness.
Nor was the violin all that David brought to the house.There were the doughnuts and the cookies.Very early in his visits David had discovered,much to his surprise,that Joe and Betty were often hungry.
"But why don't you go down to the store and buy something?"he had queried at once.
Upon being told that there was no money to buy with,David's first impulse had been to bring several of the gold-pieces the next time he came;but upon second thoughts David decided that he did not dare.He was not wishing to be called a thief a second time.It would be better,he concluded,to bring some food from the house instead.
In his mountain home everything the house afforded in the way of food had always been freely given to the few strangers that found their way to the cabin door.So now David had no hesitation in going to Mrs.Holly's pantry for supplies,upon the occasion of his next visit to Joe Glaspell's.
Mrs.Holly,coming into the kitchen,found him merging from the pantry with both hands full of cookies and doughnuts.
"Why,David,what in the world does this mean?"she demanded.
"They're for Joe and Betty,"smiled David happily.
"For Joe and--But those doughnuts and cookies don't belong to you.They're mine!""Yes,I know they are.I told them you had plenty,"nodded David.
"Plenty!What if I have?"remonstrated Mrs.Holly,in growing indignation."That doesn't mean that you can take--"Something in David's face stopped the words half-spoken.
"You don't mean that I CAN'T take them to Joe and Betty,do you?Why,Mrs.Holly,they're hungry!Joe and Betty are.They don't have half enough to eat.Betty said so.And we've got more than we want.There's food left on the table every day.Why,if YOUwere hungry,wouldn't you want somebody to bring--"But Mrs.Holly stopped him with a despairing gesture.
"There,there,never mind.Run along.Of course you can take them.I'm--I'm GLAD to have you,"she finished,in a desperate attempt to drive from David's face that look of shocked incredulity with which he was still regarding her.
Never again did Mrs.Holly attempt to thwart David's generosity to the Glaspells;but she did try to regulate it.She saw to it that thereafter,upon his visits to the house,he took only certain things and a certain amount,and invariably things of her own choosing.
But not always toward the Glaspell shanty did David turn his steps.Very frequently it was in quite another direction.He had been at the Holly farmhouse three weeks when he found his Lady of the Roses.
He had passed quite through the village that day,and had come to a road that was new to him.It was a beautiful road,smooth,white,and firm.Two huge granite posts topped with flaming nasturtiums marked the point where it turned off from the main highway.Beyond these,as David soon found,it ran between wide-spreading lawns and flowering shrubs,leading up the gentle slope of a hill.Where it led to,David did not know,but he proceeded unhesitatingly to try to find out.For some time he climbed the slope in silence,his violin,mute,under his arm;but the white road still lay in tantalizing mystery before him when a by-path offered the greater temptation,and lured him to explore its cool shadowy depths instead.
