That afternoon he had an unexpected visit.He had just finished washing his dinner dishes and he and Babbie were in the outer shop together, when the visitor came.Jed was droning "Old Hundred"with improvisations of his own, the said improvising having the effect of slowing down the already extremely deliberate anthem until the result compared to the original was for speed, as an oyster scow compared to an electric launch.This musical crawl he used as an accompaniment to the sorting and piling of various parts of an order just received from a Southern resort.Barbara was helping him, at least she called her activities "helping." When Jed had finished counting a pile of vanes or mill parts she counted them to make sure.Usually her count and his did not agree, so both counted again, getting in each other's way and, as Mr.Winslow expressed it, having a good time generally.And this remark, intended to be facetious, was after all pretty close to the literal truth.Certainly Babbie was enjoying herself, and Jed, where an impatient man would have been frantic, was enjoying her enjoyment.
Petunia, perched in lopsided fashion on a heap of mill-sides was, apparently, superintending.
"There!" declared Jed, stacking a dozen sailors beside a dozen of what the order called "birdhouses medium knocked down." "There!
that's the livin' last one, I do believe.Hi hum! Now we've got to box 'em, haven't we?...Ye-es, yes, yes, yes....
Hum....
"'Di--de--di--de--di--de...."
"Where's that hammer? Oh, yes, here 'tis.""'Di--de--di--de--'
Now where on earth have I put that pencil, Babbie? Have Iswallowed it? DON'T tell me you've seen me swallow it, 'cause that flavor of lead-pencil never did agree with me."The child burst into a trill of laughter.
"Why, Uncle Jed," she exclaimed, "there it is, behind your ear.""Is it? Sho, so 'tis! Now that proves the instinct of dumb animals, don't it? That lead-pencil knew enough to realize that my ear was so big that anything short of a cord-wood stick could hide behind it.Tut, tut! Surprisin', surprisin'!""But, Uncle Jed, a pencil isn't an animal.""Eh? Ain't it? Seemed to me I'd read somethin' about the ragin'
lead-pencil seekin' whom it might devour.But maybe that was a--er--lion or a clam or somethin'."
Babbie looked at him in puzzled fashion for a moment.Then she sagely shook her head and declared: "Uncle Jed, I think you are perfectly scru-she-aking.Petunia and I are convulshed.We--" she stopped, listened, and then announced: "Uncle Jed, I THINK somebody came up the walk."The thought received confirmation immediately in the form of a knock at the door.Jed looked over his spectacles.
"Hum," he mused, sadly, "there's no peace for the wicked, Babbie.
No sooner get one order all fixed and out of the way than along comes a customer and you have to get another one ready.If I'd known 'twas goin' to be like this I'd never have gone into business, would you? But maybe 'tain't a customer, maybe it's Cap'n Sam or Gabe Bearse or somebody....They wouldn't knock, though, 'tain't likely; anyhow Gabe wouldn't....Come in," he called, as the knock was repeated.
The person who entered the shop was a tall man in uniform.The afternoon was cloudy and the outer shop, piled high with stock and lumber, was shadowy.The man in uniform looked at Jed and Barbara and they looked at him.He spoke first.
"Pardon me," he said, "but is your name Winslow?"Jed nodded."Yes, sir," he replied, deliberately."I guess likely 'tis.""I have come here to see if you could let me have--"Babbie interrupted him.Forgetting her manners in the excitement of the discovery which had just flashed upon her, she uttered an exclamation.
"Oh, Uncle Jed!" she exclaimed.
Jed, startled, turned toward her.
"Yes?" he asked, hastily."What's the matter?""Don't you know? He--he's the nice officer one.""Eh? The nice what? What are you talkin' about, Babbie?"Babbie, now somewhat abashed and ashamed of her involuntary outburst, turned red and hesitated.
"I mean," she stammered, "I mean he--he's the--officer one that--that was nice to us that day."
"That day? What day?...Just excuse the little girl, won't you?" he added, apologetically, turning to the caller."She's made a mistake; she thinks she knows you, I guess.""But I DO, Uncle Jed.Don't you remember? Over at the flying place?"The officer himself took a step forward.
"Why, of course," he said, pleasantly."She is quite right.Ithought your faces were familiar.You and she were over at the camp that day when one of our construction plans was lost.She found it for us.And Lieutenant Rayburn and I have been grateful many times since," he added.
Jed recognized him then.
"Well, I snum!" he exclaimed."Of course! Sartin! If it hadn't been for you I'd have lost my life and Babbie'd have lost her clam chowder.That carpenter feller would have had me hung for a spy in ten minutes more.I'm real glad to see you, Colonel--Colonel Wood.
That's your name, if I recollect right."
"Not exactly.My name is Grover, and I'm not a colonel, worse luck, only a major.""Sho! Grover, eh? Now how in the nation did I get it Wood? Oh, yes, I cal'late 'twas mixin' up groves and woods.Tut, tut!
Wonder I didn't call you 'Pines' or 'Bushes' or somethin'....
But there, sit down, sit down.I'm awful glad you dropped in.I'd about given up hopin' you would."He brought forward a chair, unceremoniously dumping two stacks of carefully sorted and counted vanes and sailors from its seat to the floor prior to doing so.Major Grover declined to sit.
"I should like to, but I mustn't," he said."And I shouldn't claim credit for deliberately making you a social call.I came--that is, I was sent here on a matter of--er--well, first aid to the injured.
I came to see if you would lend me a crank."Jed looked at him."A--a what?" he asked.
