So out they got, and Carl tied Dinah to a tree, while his sisters took the impedimenta out of the wagon. Mrs. Lambert holding a twin with each hand, lead the way along a shady path that skirted the bank of a meandering stream. The shadow of a grove of trees lay over the long gra.s.s; on each side of the stream stretched meadows colored with patches of golden-rod, and red pepper-gra.s.s; in the apple-trees the fruit was already bright red among the green leaves; the sun was warm, and the wind caressing.
"This is the very place-these are the very trees," said Mrs. Lambert.
"And now we shall all have lunch,"-this in a brisk, practical voice, for notwithstanding her romantic memories, Mrs. Lambert was hungry.
Elise spread a white cloth out on the gra.s.s, weighting it at the corners with three large stones and "The Vicar of Wakefield." Carl went to put the bottles of loganberry juice in the stream to cool, and the others unloaded the hamper. Then they all sat down to eat. And when they had eaten all they wanted-that is, until there was nothing left to want-Aunt Gertrude took a book, pretending that she was going to read, and went to sleep, Elise took her sewing-pretending that she was going to be industrious, when she was really going to sit and dream-the twins, took off their shoes and stockings, and made for the shallow stream like a pair of ducks; Carl, who had recently acquired some enthusiasm for natural history, began to look around for specimens of the local flora and fauna-in the shape of mulberry leaves, and spiders, and Jane rambled off to see what she could see.
With her hands clasped behind her, she wandered through the trees, sometimes stopping to smell the ferns that grew in the moist rocks. At length she reached the edge of the little wood, where the stream, as if it had been playing a game with her, chuckled pleasantly at having appeared where she had not expected to find it. Again, on the opposite bank was the meadow, where now a few brown cows were to be seen in the distance, placidly munching the gra.s.s.
But it was not the cows that interested Jane at that moment; her curiosity was piqued immediately by a certain peculiar figure under an oak-tree on the far side of the stream.
This figure was seated on a little camp stool, beneath a green umbrella-as if the oak tree did _not_ come up to the mark in furnishing the amount of shade required.
"What _can_ he be doing?" wondered Jane. The odd character had his back to her so that she could not make out exactly what his occupation was, and therefore left her no alternative but that of picking her way across the stream on the stones, and ascertaining his business for herself.
As she approached him her wonder grew. He wore a suit of black and white checks, an emerald-hued necktie of such proportions that the loops of the bow were visible even from Jane"s inconvenient angle of sight. But most remarkable of all, was his hat. It was such a hat as, once seen, would leave an indelible impression, and yet defied all description. It can only be said that it was large-extremely large-that it was of straw, and that it was ornamented with a scarf of a rich and vivid green. But the jaunty freedom of its lines, the expression of its broad and supple brim-these were the individualities that distinguished it from all the other hats ever made by the hand of man.
After a moment or two Jane made out what he was doing. He was painting a picture. In front of him was a small easel, and on the easel was a small canvas, and on the canvas was a bewildering blur of colors. On his thumb he supported a huge palette.
It occurred to Jane that this fellow craftsman of Paul might have heard of her cousin, and in any event his occupation interested her. She drew nearer, until she was close enough to watch the airy strokes of his brushes which he selected from time to time from a large bunch, much as a golfer selects his clubs.
Presently, evidently hearing some motion on the gra.s.s behind him, the artist looked around and saw her. At once he sprang up, doffing his wonderful hat.
"Ah! How do you do?"
Jane stared at him, and then said, with dignity,
"How do you do? Am I disturbing you?"
"Not at all! _Not_ at all."
"Can I watch you?"
"I shall be delighted; though I fear that your interest will be ill repaid," he said modestly. "I am, as you see, endeavoring to render my impressions of the beauty and tranquillity of this charming scene. Ah, Nature! Nature! there is nothing like Nature, my dear young lady,-you may take my word for it. I am a great worshipper of Nature-I wear her colors like a true knight!" And he pointed to the scarf around the crown of his hat, which, as has been said, was of a green that was surely never to be met with on land or sea. He resumed his seat on the little camp stool, under the green umbrella-also, let it be observed, of Nature"s hue-and Jane, whose curiosity had been much piqued by this odd little man, settled herself sociably on a hillock. He set to work again, this time using certain self-conscious little mannerisms, throwing his head on one side, thrusting out his underlip, pondering over his palette, and then holding up one finger, saying briskly, "Ah-ha! Now I"ve got it!" and impetuously dashing a blob of paint onto the meek canvas, which seemed to have had already far more trouble than it deserved.
Jane looked at him intently. He was a little man, of twenty-six or seven, with a rosy face, a pug nose, and bright blue eyes, like pieces of Dutch china. His straw colored hair was combed down on his forehead, curled slightly around his ears, and grew down the nape of his neck. He wore a tiny moustache, which seemed to have no kinship with either his hair or his eyebrows, for where these last were almost flaxen, the stiff fringe on his upper lip was as red as rust. Yet he was a pleasant looking young man; the simplicity and earnestness of his expression, even his frank satisfaction with himself, made one like him in spite of all his absurdities.
"Now, you"re putting in the cows, aren"t you?" inquired Jane, respectfully.
"Yes, indeed. I am going to put in three cows-three is rather a symbolic number, you know. Faith, Hope and Charity-Good, Better, Best, so-so many things run in threes. I should like to suggest the number Three to the spectator-in fact, that"s really what I"m driving at."
It seemed a quaint idea to Jane, but original.
"Do you-do you live in Frederickstown?" she ventured, presently.
"No. I regret to say that I am not a native of these delightful environs," said he, "I am a bird of pa.s.sage." He looked at her thoughtfully as he repeated this definition of himself, evidently wondering how she liked "birds of pa.s.sage."
"You mean you don"t live anywhere?"
"Just that. All Nature is my home-the trees, the rocks-"
"You _live_ in trees and rocks?" gasped Jane, looking at his dapper little suit, and wondering how it withstood the strain of such habits.
"Figuratively speaking. I confess that at times I inhabit-hotels.
Deplorable as such necessity is, still it exists."
"Yes," said Jane, who did not understand why such a necessity should be particularly deplorable, "of course."
The little man looked at her, and then in a confidential tone, remarked,
"I am an enemy to Civilization, Look! Look about you! These n.o.ble trees, this gra.s.sy meadow, that purling stream-all are doomed, my dear young lady. Have you ever thought of that? Civilization will overtake this natural Paradise-the factory will rise, the stony arms of the City will crush out the fresh beauty of the flowering mead-even these cows are slightly civilized already." And a look of discontent overshadowed his cheerful, rosy face, as he gazed at the peaceful animals munching the gra.s.s under some distant willow trees.
Just at that moment a series of shrill cries rent the air. Jane sprang up. There could be no doubt that they came from the spot where she had left her family. She darted past the little artist, flew along the bank of the stream, and finally reached the scene of the commotion; though she was forced to view it from the opposite bank.
This is what had happened: Mrs Lambert, as has been said, had gone to sleep, and, while Elise had been sitting quietly, with a book in her lap, a large, black cow had ambled up behind her, and in the friendliest way in the world had thrust its head over her shoulder. Elise had promptly screamed; Mrs. Lambert, waking suddenly and seeing the cow, had screamed also, and then the twins, making mudpies down by the water"s edge, had added their shrieks to the general uproar. Elise, losing her presence of mind, had started to run, whereupon, after a moment"s thought, the cow had followed her.
"One moment! Allow me!" cried a voice behind Jane. "Ladies, be calm!"
And the dapper little figure of "Nature"s Knight" sprang forward, hopped nimbly across the stepping stones of the stream, clambered up the muddy bank, and clutching the green umbrella, flew to Elise"s rescue.
He ran around in front of the cow, shouting loudly, recklessly drawing all the attention of the astounded animal upon himself. By this time the whole family had collected to watch the proceedings. Carl was chuckling.
Mrs. Lambert was half-weeping, half-laughing, and wringing her hands all at once. Jane, open-mouthed, followed all the extraordinary actions of the rescuer, who, making the strangest sounds in his throat, waving his green umbrella, appeared to be trying to mesmerize the bewildered cow.
But singular as his methods were, the stranger actually succeeded in coaxing the animal away from Elise, and then began to shoo it across the field, with such energy and determination that presently it began to trot and then to gallop until it had vanished out of sight around the edge of the woods.
Elise, not knowing whether to laugh or cry, and looking rather foolish, got down from the fence to which she was clinging in desperation, and timidly thanked the young man, who had again removed his hat with something of the flourish of an acrobat.
"You aren"t hurt?" cried Mrs. Lambert, rushing to her daughter. "Oh, my dear, I really don"t think there was any danger at all-I"m sure that was quite a dear old cow-that is,-I don"t mean that it wasn"t extremely kind of you, sir, and I"m sure we are all _very_ grateful to you-"
"Madam, I was fortunate to have this opportunity of serving you," said the young gentleman, grandiloquently, and then turning to Elise, he added, with deep concern, "I trust that _you_ feel no ill effects from this unpleasant adventure-"
"Oh, no-no, indeed, thank you." Elise, being very self-conscious, blushed, and looked at her mother as if asking what she should say next.
"Won"t you rest for a moment, sir?" said Mrs. Lambert, "and have something cooling to drink? Carl, my dear, aren"t there one or two more bottles of loganberry down in the stream?" And then turning again to the stranger, who listened very willingly to her invitation to refreshment, she asked him if she might know his name.
"My name, Madam?" he looked around at them all as if to a.s.sure himself that they were quite prepared for anything that might follow. "My name is Montgomery,-P. Hyacinth Montgomery!" No one turned a hair. Mrs.
Lambert then told him her name, and that of each member of her family, and then they all sat down, under the tree.
Very soon all constraint between the Lambert"s and Mr. Montgomery had quite disappeared. He was an adaptable, sociable person, and with all his eccentricities and absurdities, had a certain air of wistfulness that touched Mrs. Lambert. He did not seem at all loath to talk about himself, especially about his feelings; and the only thing he touched on rather vaguely was the matter of his native section of the country.
He was in "these environs" only temporarily, he said, and was lodging at the Red Fox Hotel, between Frederickstown and Goldsboro.
"Why, then," said Mrs. Lambert, "we can take you part way home, if you are ready to start soon. We are going in the same direction."
She could not tell what it was about Mr. Montgomery that seemed to her pathetic, but whatever it was it inspired the kindly woman to be cordial and friendly to the odd little man. He accepted her offer eagerly, and Jane fancied that as he did so he looked timidly at Elise.
While the others were packing up various odds and ends into the picnic basket, he ran off to collect his own possessions which he had left under the oak tree up the stream.
"He"s a queer duck," remarked Carl, carefully sorting out his specimens of plant and animal life.
"Can _I_ have a hat with a green thcarf?" demanded Lottie.