“When they get back they’ll have learned enough to understand, I reckon,” responded Talitha. “The thing is to get them there. You ought to see how Gincy’s working, and the whole family too, for that matter. I actually believe they’ve picked most of the berries for ten miles around here. They are at it now. Just think of Dan Gooch going berrying!”
“He has some backbone after all. It’s such a pity he couldn’t have had a chance when he was young. And that reminds me, I met Gincy ’way over in Bear Hollow yesterday morning at sun-up with a bucket. After berries, I suppose; but I don’t see how they’re going to eat ’em all.”
“Eat ’em! They don’t, they’re drying ’em to sell. The Settlement store has promised to take every pound. Then Mrs. Gooch is reckoning on her geese feathers, too. If Gincy can only get money enough for a start, she’ll find work to help her through the year.”
“I reckon so,” assented Martin. “They’re mighty friendly folks at the school.”
“You’ve saved enough now, haven’t you?” Talitha’s mind suddenly reverted to her brother’s prospects.
“Yes, I’ll make it do with the odd jobs I can pick up; but I misdoubt father’s being willing for me to go back. He thinks I know a sight now. He’s running all over the country trying to get me another job, and here’s the crop going to waste. I reckon I’m needed at home for a spell, anyway,” and Martin went gloomily out to work in the much neglected field.
He had seen thrifty orchards and gardens in the little sheltered coves of those great hills near Bentville, and he had often pictured his own home with such a background. Disheartened, the young fellow regarded the task before him for a moment, then rallied his two younger brothers. With the promise of a reward they attacked the weeds among the corn while Martin went on to the little orchard. It was thick with dead wood, and he fell to pruning the branches energetically. With the knowledge he had gained what a change he could make in the place even in the two months left of his vacation.
Over in the garden he could hear Talitha and her mother. Tending garden and milking the cow was as much woman’s work, according to the Kentucky mountain code, as washing dishes or making bread. The sound of a sturdily wielded hoe in the earth spurred him on. “I’ll go back some time, anyhow, if I live,” he declared, striking deep, vigorous blows into a lifeless tree trunk.
Had Martin and Talitha only known, their energy spoke volumes for the Cause lying so near their hearts. A new interest had been suddenly awakened in the Coyle family. The slightest pretext took their less ambitious neighbours along the creek path curious to see “what Mart Coyle was up ter now.” A wide, roomy porch across the front of the cabin—which Martin had skilfully contrived at little expense—served as sitting-room during the warm weather. Here Talitha’s wheel whirred diligently in the shadow of the vines which had taken kindly to her late transplanting.
The Coyle enterprise was contagious. Dan Gooch, with a new-born enthusiasm, valiantly led his sons forth to produce order from the confusion around the exterior of the cabin. Inside, Gincy and her mother worked with tireless energy and bright dreams of the future.