Harry Fenimore's Principles

by Isabel Thompson Hopkins

In another moment Sue had fled away just in time, and was calling upon Enoch and all the rest to help her imagine what this mysterious speech could mean, and amid all this excitement the doctor was at Creepy’s side again, and darting one of the old quick inquiring looks into his face. But it was a joyous look too, and Creepy responded with a smile; he had learned to do that long ago, but ever since the morning the doctor had talked to him about the Brotherhood, the blood had seemed to flow with a fuller throb through his veins, and he could raise his head and meet the look of any one with what it seemed to him must be the same feeling that was making the earth blossom out into spring, green grass and flowers once more.

“So, so, my little man! All bright and well this morning, and troubles vanishing away like the last rags and tatters of winter that have been hiding in the corners of the field? Well, that is as it should be; and now, if you haven’t been taking a walk with Enoch and tiring yourself out already, suppose you should get into that chaise of mine, and see how life seems to me, driving about in it all day. I can’t let you learn what exercise is all at once, and I want to get you into drill for that fishing excursion of ours; it will be time for it now before we can say Jack Robinson.”

Six months ago this would have made Creepy’s heart stand still, and then beat with such a great, trembling pulse that he could hardly have breathed, but now he only got up from his chair with a glow in his cheeks and a great shining in his eyes, and said he was ready.

“Good! And suppose, if you shouldn’t be tired of everything before we get there, suppose we should stop at my house a while, and see if you can find anything to amuse yourself with? And if you should, and if I should be busy, as I am very likely to be, suppose we should not come back at all to-day; or if we didn’t feel in the mood of it, not even to-morrow, and give you a chance to see if you like life anywhere else as well as here?”

The black horse seemed to understand that something to deal tenderly with was being lifted into the chaise. He stopped pawing the ground as he always did when he heard the doctor’s step, and instead of dashing off at the first touch of a loot upon the chaise floor, he stood as if such a thing as moving had never been heard of, and only looked over his shoulder with wondering eyes as the doctor placed Creepy exactly where he wanted him among the cushions, and tucked the lap-robe carefully round on that side. But it was only a moment; they were all right then and off, but there was a touch on the rein that told him very plainly they were not going as fast as usual, and that every roughness in the road was to be left one side, or, if that couldn’t be, smoothed over by the best motion possible.

“Driving isn’t quite what it might be, yet,” said the doctor; “but things are getting better every day, and by the end of another week we may see the dust flying, after all. Do you see that bit of green grass showing itself over there? We had better feast our eyes while we can, for we shall be coming to city pavements before we know it.”

But he seemed to be in no hurry to come to them, or indeed to come to anything or any place in particular. They took the first turn in the road, it is true, the same that Creepy used to wonder at in days gone by, and which Enoch had showed him, in the queer chair, so many times since; but instead of keeping on after that towards the city, they swept off into another, and then leisurely on till they came to what seemed hardly more than a lane, overhung by sweeping branches of great old trees.

“There,” said the doctor, “that is the way we shall take when we bring our fishing rods along with us. Do you see those willows down there, yellow as gold, and buds swelling on every twig. When they have fairly burst forth, and made green leaves of themselves, that will be the time for us to come. But this morning I don’t know that we can do better than drive a little farther.”

Creepy did not answer a word, but that was of no consequence with the doctor; he always understood him just as well when he could not speak. Was this the world that he had dreamed of so long? Was this what life had always been to other people, “all but him,” this thrill that was filling every vein, this joy at his heart, this free fresh air, this sunlight, this feeling that there was something more, still lying beyond every turn? He leaned back among the cushions and drew long deep breaths, as if in that way he could drink more deeply, and make something more his own.

The doctor chatted on, they took one turn after another, until at last there were no more to take, and they were coming fairly into the city. And now the doctor watched his patient more carefully; he saw that the great blue veins were swelling up in his forehead as he had not seen them now for a long time. The palaces and castles, as they seemed to Creepy’s eyes, the countless, wonderful throngs of people, the hurry and bustle and bewildering noise, were going to be too much for him; they must take the shortest cut home.