"O father, then you can show me how to do it, can't you? I would like to learn just the right way." And the father laughed, and looked at his wife with something like the old look on his face, and said he seemed to be fairly caught. And together they went to the box outside, and in the soft summer night, with the moon looking down on them, Nettie took her lesson in fish dressing.
When the work was all done, Norm having hovered around through it all, and watched, and helped a little, Mr. Decker went back to the kitchen and yawned, and wondered how late it was. No clock in this house to give any idea of time. There used to be, but one day it got out of order and Mr. Decker carried it down street to be fixed, and never brought it back. Mrs. Decker asked about it a good many times, then went herself in search of it, and found it in the saloon at the corner.
"He took it for debt," the owner told her, and a poor bargain it was; it never came to time, any better than her husband did. However, just as Mr. Decker made his wonderment, the old clock over at Mrs. Smith's rose up to its duty, and dignifiedly struck nine.
"Well, I declare," said Mr. Decker, "I did not think it was as late as that. There ain't any evenings now days. Well, I guess, after all, I'll go to bed. I'm most uncommon tired to-night somehow."
Norm had already gone up to his room; and Mrs. Decker when she heard her husband's words, hurried into the bedroom to hide two happy tears.
"I declare for it, I believe you have bewitched him," she said to Nettie, who followed her to ask about the breakfast; "I ain't known him to do such a thing not in two years, as to go to bed at nine o'clock without ever going down street again. He don't act like himself; not a mite. I was most scared when I saw him take Sate in his arms; that child don't remember his doing it before, I don't believe. Did he really buy the things, child, and pay for them? Well, now, it does beat all! And Saturday night, too; that has always been his worst night. Child, if you get hold of your father, and of my Norm, there ain't anything in this world too good for you. I'd work my fingers to the bone any time to help along, and be glad to."
It was all very sweet. Nettie ran away before the sentence was fairly finished, waiting only to say, "Good-night, mother!" She had done this every night since she came, but to-night she reached up and touched her lips to the tall woman's thin cheek. Poor Nettie had been used to kissing somebody every night when she went to bed. It had made her homesick not to do it. But she had not wanted to kiss anybody in this house, except the little girls. To-night, she wanted to kiss this mother. She reached the back door, then stopped and looked back; her father sat in his shirt sleeves, in the act of pulling off one boot. Should she tell him good-night? He had not been there for her to do it a single evening since she came home. Should she kiss him? Why not? Wasn't he her father? Yet he might not like it. She could not be sure. He was not like the fathers she had known. However, she came back on tiptoe and stooped over him, her voice low and sweet:
"Good-night, father! I am going now." And then she put a kiss on the rough cheek, just where little Sate had left her velvet touch.
Mr. Decker started almost as though somebody had struck him. But it was not anger which filled his face.
"Good-night, my girl," he said, but his voice was husky; and Nettie ran as fast as she could across the yard to the next house.