This was irresistible. “Can you see me owning a vine?” asked Morning. Yet there was significance in the idea together with the play.
“And I’ll build a bit of a trainer to start it. By the end of summer——”
“Bring it on, Jake——”
“An’ I’ll fetch a couple of rose vines, and dreen them with broken crockery from the holler——”
The vine prospered and the play; and the roses began to feel for Jake’s trellis. The tool-box was still there.
“You’ll be needin’ fire-wood for the winter. To be sure, you can buy it, but what’s the good, with dead stuff to be knocked down and small trees to be thinned out, and the shed gapin’ open for the saddle-horse you’re not sure of findin’? It’s wood you ought to have in there——”
In fact, it was no small task to break Jake of the hill-habit. Morning grew accustomed to the ax, and the crashing of branches, many of which would have been sacrificed to the strong winds of the Fall. Meanwhile, the shed had come into its own, and there were piles of firewood seasoning in the sun and shade.
He was alone with the nights; sitting there in his doorway when it was fine, studying the far lights of the city.... City lights meant Varce and Conrad, not his great friends. Every hour that he looked, he liked better the wind about the doorway and the open southern fields.
One night he felt his first twinge of sorrow for the big city. Hatred, it had been before. Other men were tortured as he had been, but somehow, the way didn’t get into their dreams and drive them forth, as he had been driven. They were really not to blame for Boabdilling; they sank into the cushions and lost the sense of reality. And then the thousands in the hall-bedrooms and worse, to whom Boabdil was heaven’s farthest pavilion! Morning seemed to have something to say to those thousands, but wasn’t ready yet.
He longed for Fallows, whom he saw more clearly every day—especially since the Ploughman had crept into the play.... He wanted to wait upon the big sick man; to have him here, to prepare food for him, and sit with him in these silences. He wanted Endicott at Tongu, too, and Nevin—oh, yes, Nevin. It was like a prayer that he sent out some nights—for the unearthing of these giants from their hiding—so that he could listen to them, and serve them and make them glad for their giving to him.