As for Madge and Joshua, they were together on the grade all morning, after the girl had finished with her studies. For two hours in the afternoon she would recite to her mother in their remote little living tent. Then she had promised to go “down the line” with him to see the work of other camps on the double-tracking job.
The genial Bloodmop, born patron of boyish ambitions, permitted Joshua to drive a team and to “stick pigs.” He talked to the boy as if he were a man, and called him Josh and slapped him familiarly on the back. And if there is anything that warms the heart of a growing boy it is this unconscious acceptance of him as a reasoning being by a grown-up member of his sex. The three went in together at noon, Bloodmop between the boy and girl, laughing boisterously. During the afternoon, while Madge was busy with her schooling, Bloodmop allowed Joshua to drive a wheeler team, and took the time to explain many things pertinent to the construction of railroads. When Madge came she and Joshua wandered down the line. And after supper they had that delicious experience, the undisputed due of young lovers since before the Egyptians builded the Pyramids, of sitting side by side under the twinkling stars.
“Aren’t the stars bright to-night?” said Madge. “But they say that out West they are brighter still. On the desert, I believe. Oh, I’m just crazy to go West! And so is Pa. He talks about it all the time. Look at that cluster up there, almost over our heads. I call that the kite. And there’s the big dipper”—she pointed—“I can always find it.”
“What you call the kite,” said Joshua, “is the Constellation of Orion. In March it’s just a little bit southwest of right over a fella’s head. See those three stars in a line? That’s called the Belt of Orion, and the three hanging down like make the Sword of Orion. The Celestial Equator passes through the belt. Now look at the four big stars that are around the whole business. That red one is Betelgeuse, and thatun closest to it is Bellatrix. Now look at the dim little one in the middle of the Sword. Around that is the Nebula of Orion, and the bright, white star is Rigel.”
“Mercy alive!” cried Madge. “Wherever did you learn all that? Not at school, did you?”
“Naw, jest monkeyin’ ’round,” he said disparagingly.
“And do you know everything about the stars? Why, I don’t know one from another.”
“I know a little,” he told her. “Some day I’m gonta know more. Now look over there to the left. See that big bright one? That’s Sirius, the Dog Star. Now look at the Constellation of Orion again. Remember Rigel? Well, that ain’t one star, but it’s two. It’s so far away’s what makes it look to us like only one. And Number One in the Belt of Orion and Number Three, too, are double stars.”
“Well, whoever heard of the like! I’ve always wanted to know something about the stars, but I never had anybody to tell me before. Nights and nights I sit outdoors and look up at ’em and wonder. Some nights you can see millions and millions of them, and then again—”
“No, you can’t,” he corrected her. “Folks used to think that a fella couldn’t begin to guess how many stars he could see. But we know better now. You can’t never see over four thousan’. An’ about the most a fella’ll ever be able to see is somewhere between two thousan’ an’ three thousan’.”