Beautiful Joe - Marshall Saunders (the reading strategies book .TXT) 📗
- Author: Marshall Saunders
Book online «Beautiful Joe - Marshall Saunders (the reading strategies book .TXT) 📗». Author Marshall Saunders
I had not been on the ground more than a few seconds, before I turned my
eyes from Miss Laura to the log hut. It was deathly quiet, there was not
a sound coming from it, but the air was full of queer smells, and I was
so uneasy that I could not lie still. There was something the matter
with Fleetfoot, too. He was pawing the ground and whinnying, and
looking, not after Mr. Harry, but toward the log building.
"Joe," said Miss Laura, "what is the matter with you and Fleetfoot? Why
don't you stand still? Is there any stranger about?" and she peered out
of the buggy.
I knew there was something wrong somewhere, but I didn't know what it
was; so I stretched myself up on the step of the buggy, and licked her
hand, and barking, to ask her to excuse me, I ran off to the other side
of the log hut. There was a door there, but it was closed, and propped
firmly up by a plank that I could not move, scratch as hard as I liked.
I was determined to get in, so I jumped against the door, and tore and
bit at the plank, till Miss Laura came to help me.
"You won't find anything but rats in that ramshackle old place,
Beautiful Joe," she said, as she pulled the plank away; "and as you
don't hurt them, I don't see what you want to get in for. However, you
are a sensible dog, and usually have a reason for having your own way,
so I am going to let you have it."
The plank fell down as she spoke, and she pulled open the rough door and
looked in. There was no window inside, only the light that streamed
through the door, so that for an instant she could see nothing. "Is any
one here?" she asked, in her clear, sweet voice. There was no answer,
except a low, moaning sound. "Why, some poor creature is in trouble,
Joe," said Miss Laura, cheerfully. "Let us see what it is," and she
stepped inside.
I shall never forget seeing my dear Miss Laura going into that wet and
filthy log house, holding up her white dress in her hands, her face a
picture of pain and horror. There were two rough stalls in it, and in
the first one was tied a cow, with a calf lying beside her. I could
never have believed, if I had not seen it with my own eyes, that an
animal could get so thin as that cow was. Her backbone rose up high and
sharp, her hip bones stuck away out, and all her body seemed shrunken
There were sores on her sides, and the smell from her stall wasterrible. Miss Laura gave one cry of pity, then with a very pale face
she dropped her dress, and seizing a little penknife from her pocket,
she hacked at the rope that tied the cow to the manger, and cut it so
that the cow could lie down. The first thing the poor cow did was to
lick her calf, but it was quite dead. I used to think Jenkins's cows
were thin enough, but he never had one that looked like this. Her head
was like the head of a skeleton, and her eyes had such a famished look,
that I turned away, sick at heart, to think that she had suffered so.
When the cow lay down, the moaning noise stopped, for she had been
making it. Miss Laura ran outdoors, snatched a handful of grass and took
it in to her. The cow ate it gratefully, but slowly, for her strength
seemed all gone.
Miss Laura then went into the other stall to see if there was any
creature there. There had been a horse. There was now a lean,
gaunt-looking animal lying on the ground, that seemed as if he was dead.
There was a heavy rope knotted round his neck, and fastened to his empty
rack. Miss Laura stepped carefully between his feet, cut the rope and
going outside the stall spoke kindly to him. He moved his ears slightly,
raised his head, tried to get up, fell back again, tried again, and
succeeded in staggering outdoors after Miss Laura, who kept encouraging
him, and then he fell down on the grass.
Fleetfoot stared at the miserable-looking creature as if he did not know
what it was. The horse had no sores on his body, as the cow had, nor was
he quite so lean; but he was the weakest, most distressed-looking animal
that I ever saw. The flies settled on him, and Miss Laura had to keep
driving them away. He was a white horse, with some kind of pale-colored
eyes, and whenever he turned them on Miss Laura, she would look away.
She did not cry, as she often did over the sick and suffering animals.
This seemed too bad for tears. She just hovered over that poor horse
with her face as white as her dress, and an expression of fright in her
eyes. Oh, how dirty he was! I would never have imagined that a horse
could get in such a condition.
All this had only taken a few minutes, and just after she got the horse
out, Mr. Harry appeared. He came out of the house with a slow step, that
quickened to a run when he saw Miss Laura. "Laura!" he exclaimed, "what
are you doing?" Then he stopped and looked at the horse, not in
amazement, but very sorrowfully. "Barron is gone," he said, and
crumpling up a piece of paper, he put it in his pocket "What is to be
done for these animals? There is a cow, isn't there?"
He stepped to the door of the log hut, glanced in, and said, quickly:
"Do you feel able to drive home?"
"Yes," said Miss Laura.
"Sure?" and he eyed her anxiously.
"Yes, yes," she returned; "what shall I get?"
"Just tell father that Barron has run away and left a starving pig, cow,
and horse. There's not a thing to eat here. He'll know what to do. I'll
drive you to the road."
Miss Laura got into the buggy and Mr. Harry jumped in after her. He
drove her to the road and put down the bars; then he said: "Go straight
You'll soon be on the open road, and there's nothing to harm you.Joe will look after you. Meanwhile I'll go back to the house and heat
some water."
Miss Laura let Fleetfoot go as fast as he liked on the way home, and it
only seemed a few minutes before we drove into the yard. Adele came out
to meet us. "Where's uncle?" asked Miss Laura.
"Gone to de big meadow," said Adele.
"And auntie?"
"She had de colds and chills, and entered into de bed to keep warm. She
lose herself in sleep now. You not go near her."
"Are there none of the men about?" asked Miss Laura.
"No, mademoiselle. Dey all occupied way off."
"Then you help me, Adele, like a good girl," said Miss Laura, hurrying
into the house. "We've found a sick horse and cow. What shall I take
them?"
"Nearly all animals like de bran mash," said Adele.
"Good!" cried Miss Laura. "That is the very thing. Put in the things to
make it, will you please, and I would like some vegetables for the cow.
Carrots, turnips, anything you have; take some of those you have
prepared for dinner tomorrow, and please run up to the barn, Adele, and
get some hay, and corn, and oats, not much, for we'll be going back
again; but hurry, for the poor things are starving, and have you any
milk for the pig? Put it in one of those tin kettles with covers."
For a few minutes, Miss Laura and Adele flew about the kitchen, then we
set off again. Miss Laura took me in the buggy, for I was out of breath
and wheezing greatly. I had to sit on the seat beside her, for the
bottom of the buggy and the back were full of eatables for the poor sick
animals. Just as we drove into the road, we met Mr. Wood. "Are you
running away with the farm?" he said with a laugh, pointing to the
carrot tops that were gaily waving over the dashboard.
Miss Laura said a few words to him, and with a very grave face he got in
beside her. In a short time, we were back on the lonely road. Mr. Harry
was waiting at the gate for us, and when he saw Miss Laura, he said,
"Why did you come jack again? You'll be tired out. This isn't a place
for a sensitive girl like you."
"I thought I might be of some use," said she, gently.
"So you can," said Mr. Wood. "You go into the house and sit down, and
Harry and I will come to you when we want cheering up. What have you
been doing, Harry?"
"I've watered them a little, and got a good fire going. I scarcely think
the cow will pull through. I think we'll save the horse. I tried to get
the cow out-doors, but she can't move."
"Let her alone," said Mr. Wood. "Give her some food and her strength
will come to her. What have you got here?" and he began to take the
things out of the buggy. "Bless the child, she's thought of everything,
even the salt. Bring those things into the house, Harry, and we'll make
a bran mash."
For more than an hour they were fussing over the animals. Then they came
in and sat down. The inside of the Englishman's house was as untidy as
the outside. There was no upstairs to it--only one large room with a
dirty curtain stretched across it. On one side was a low bed with a heap
of clothes on it, a chair and a wash-stand. On the other was a stove, a
table, a shaky rocking-chair that Miss Laura was sitting in, a few
hanging shelves with some dishes and books on them, and two or three
small boxes that had evidently been used for seats.
On the walls were tacked some pictures of grand houses and ladies and
gentlemen in fine clothes, and Miss Laura said that some of them were
noble people. "Well, I'm glad this particular nobleman has left us,"
said Mr. Wood, seating himself on one of the boxes, "if nobleman he is.
I should call him in plain English, a scoundrel. Did Harry show you his
note?"
"No, uncle," said Miss Laura.
"Read it aloud," said Mr. Wood. "I'd like to hear it again."
Miss Laura read:
WOOD, Esq.
Dear Sir:--It is a matter of great regret to me that I am suddenly
called away from my place at Penhollow, and will, therefore, not be
able to do myself the pleasure of calling on you and settling my
little account. I sincerely hope that the possession of my live stock
which I make entirely over to you, will more than reimburse you for
any trifling expense which you may have incurred on my account. If it
is any gratification to you to know that you have rendered a slight
assistance to the son of one of England's noblest noblemen, you have
With expressions of the deepest respect, and hoping that my stockmay be in good condition when you take possession,
I am, dear sir, ever devotedly yours,
HOWARD ALGERNON LEDUC BARRON.
Miss Laura dropped the paper. "Uncle, did he leave those animals to
starve?"
"Didn't you notice," said Mr. Wood, grimly, "that there wasn't a wisp of
hay inside that shanty, and that where the poor beasts were tied up the
wood was knawed and bitten by them in their torture for food? Wouldn't
he have sent me that note, instead of leaving it here on the table, if
he'd wanted me to know? The note isn't dated, but I judge he's been gone
five or six days. He has had a spite against me ever since I lent him
that hundred dollars. I don't know why, for I've stood up for him when
others would have run him out of the place. He intended me to come here
and find every animal lying dead.
"He even had a rope around the pig's neck. Harry, my boy, let us go and
look after them again. I love a dumb brute too well to let it suffer,
but in
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