Henry M. Brooks - "The Olden Time Series, Vol. 1: Curiosities of the Old Lottery"

Sewell Ford - "Wilt Thou Torchy"

John Hartley - "Yorkshire Ditties, Second Series"

Stanford Eveleth - "Miss Dexie"

Book Prizes Awarded With Nod to History
In P. D. James’s latest exercise in impeccable detection, a muckraking London journalist worms her way into a private clinic on a country estate — and ends up the victim of a ghastly murder.

Books of The Times: Despite a Ghastly Murder, Remember Your Manners
New books by Wally Lamb, Kate Jacobs, Dean Koontz, Mark Barrowcliffe and Julia Leigh.

Newly Released
Tiny Summit Entertainment finds itself sitting atop one of the biggest pop-culture phenomena of recent years.

Stanford Eveleth - Miss Dexie

S >> Stanford Eveleth >> Miss Dexie




Sewing machines were not so common at that time as to be considered a
necessary household article, and Mrs. Sherwood was slow to take advantage
of the new invention, preferring the use of fingers instead of feet for
articles that required a needle and thread to fashion them; consequently
Louie's wardrobe took some time to set in order.

Dexie was willing enough to change the needle for the more congenial pen
and ink, and Mr. Sherwood insisted that Gussie should put her needle to
more practical use. Now, while Gussie liked well enough to handle a needle
and thread when something showy and fanciful was to be evolved thereby, she
almost rebelled against the plain sewing, it was such dull, uninteresting
work; it made so much difference if the sharp little instrument held Berlin
wool, floss, etc., or the common cotton thread, which, though so useful,
was too prosaic to suit Gussie.

Do not let this convey the idea that the time was all spent indoors, at
some employment or other, for never were outings so frequently enjoyed.
There were excursions down the coast to Cow Bay, and picnics to various
points of interest, which, in the vicinity of Halifax, are innumerable and
within easy-reaching distance to dwellers in the city.

Mr. Gurney owned a small boat which carried a sail, but there were plenty
of willing hands to row it when the wind failed, and before the summer was
over, Dexie could handle an oar with the dexterity that only practice can
give.

It was very pleasant of a warm summer evening to glide along the waters of
Bedford Basin, through which the boat cut her way as if through molten
silver, and there was many a time when the little craft held but two
persons, one being Lancy Gurney, and the curly head of his companion was
very like to that of Dexie Sherwood's!

The early days of October were marked by the departure of Louie and the
kind old nurse Dinah.

Poor Louie! her heart was rent with conflicting feelings. She had been wild
with delight to think that she had been the one chosen to spend the winter
with her grandma, and, though the journey thither was a pleasure she had
long looked forward to, the final leave-takings were so much harder than
she had anticipated that she felt almost tempted, at the last moment, to
give it up, and stay with those she had never loved so much as she did now,
when prepared to leave them.

We must not stop to tell of all the changes which took place in the old
homestead when it was decided that Louie was to spend the winter there. The
eyesight of the grandparents became so much better as they thought of her
coming, that they noticed with startling clearness how dingy the old
farmhouse had grown. Their brightened vision regarded the faded carpets
with aversion, and when they had given place to new ones the curtains
looked positively shabby, and they were astonished to find how much
difference a little paint on the house and out-buildings made in the look
of the place.

Without chasing away the _homey_ took of the low, comfortable rooms, they
were made brighter and more cheerful, as if rejoicing with the grandparents
in their joy, and joining in the attempt to make the little grand-daughter
feel at home.

Unconsciously, the old folks grew brighter themselves, and Grandma Sherwood
even went so far as to lay aside the cap she had worn so long that it
seemed to belong to her head quite as much as the beautiful grey hair
beneath it; and after putting it away reverently in the bottom drawer of
the bureau, she took out instead her "best cap," and wore it daily, in
anticipation of her grand-daughter's arrival.

The pretty room that had been fitted up for Louie's use lacked nothing to
make it perfect except its occupant, and if Louie needed anything to
reconcile her to a winter's stay in the quiet farmhouse, this pretty room
contained it.

Neither were its treasures revealed in a day, for, weeks after she arrived,
grandma would bid her search for some secret drawer which contained
something that she would like; and Louie's curiosity would be stimulated by
this admission, so that many a stormy day flew rapidly away while she
searched with the ardor of an Arctic explorer for the secret spring or knob
which, pressed at last, revealed delights that only a young girl's heart
can fully enjoy.

Occasionally mysterious packages from the city arrived at the farmhouse
bearing Louie's name in full, and the delightful excitement of untying the
string and removing the wrappings, was entered into by the grandparents
with as much ardor as by Louie herself.

But grandma's heart seemed to grow young again. She knew what would please
her little favorite, and she spared no expense if pleasure and happiness
were procured with the purchases, and thus passed away the pleasant winter,
bringing only that which seemed good into the storehouse of Louie's life
and heart.

Louie was destined to see but little of her own family hereafter, for
during the following summer the grandmother's health became feeble, and she
would not listen to the suggestions that Louie should return home. A few
months later Dinah had the melancholy satisfaction of hearing the last
words of her dying mistress, who passed away in her arms.

Louie was willing to listen to the entreaties of her grief-stricken
grandfather, to remain his little companion a while longer.

The charge of the farmhouse now fell into the hands of Mr. Sherwood's
widowed daughter. She had possessed a fine estate in Georgia, and had lived
a life of ease until Sherman's march to the sea, when her plantation was
devastated, and her well-kept slaves had joined in the destruction of her
property. When her husband's body was brought home for burial, the result
of a distressing accident, there seemed nothing else left to do but to
return to the home of her childhood, reaching it in time to hear her
mother's last request with respect to Louie's future.

Aunt Annie promised to consider the child as her own if she could get the
parents' sanction as well as Louie's free consent. The latter was freely
gained, as Louie was far happier in her present home.

Mrs. Sherwood saw no obstacle in the way when the matter was laid before
her, and she gave up her rights with so little manifestation of regret that
even those who knew her best were astonished, and from that time Louie
ceased to be a member of her father's family.

The second winter in Halifax was even more pleasant than the first had
been, for the Sherwoods had extended their acquaintances, and there seemed
always some new pleasure to look forward to.

The Song and Glee Club started up afresh as the winter evenings set in, and
with a concert in the perspective the rehearsals were frequent and well
attended.

Dexie's fine voice caused her to be given a more prominent part than she
thought was her just due. She had no wish to be thrust forward into notice
when there were older members of the club who were better entitled to her
place, but she had no objection to being accompanist, for in that position
she felt at home. But she was destined to come before the public in a more
conspicuous manner.

One evening a member of the club brought in some new music, and the few who
had heard it were so delighted with its melody, that they eagerly urged its
performance at the approaching concert. A copy of the music being handed to
Dexie by Lancy, she began to hum it softly to herself, but becoming
enraptured with the bewitching strains of the composition, she
unconsciously changed the low hum to a soft whistle, which grew louder as
she proceeded. Sense of time and place disappeared, and she was unaware of
the delight of the little group around her, until the unusual silence
caused her to lift her eyes and understand the meaning of the sudden hush
that had fallen on those present. A burning blush covered her face as she
stammered out:

"I beg your pardon, ladies and gentlemen; I forgot where I was," and then
sank on a seat near and hid her burning cheeks behind her book.

Lancy was at her side in a moment.

"Never mind, Dexie. You can't think how well it sounded. They were
delighted."

"Oh, how _could_ you let me go on, Lancy? You might have stopped me, I'm
sure," she said, indignantly.

But she was immediately surrounded, and praises and interrogations poured
forth from every side, making Gussie, who stood apart, turn pale with
jealousy.

"Why did you not tell us that you could imitate the birds?"

"I never heard anything so perfectly sweet," said a lady member, pressing
forward to speak to the blushing girl.

Dexie wished the floor would open and let her drop out of sight, but she
gradually regained her composure and listened with displeasure to the
general conversation, during which this new element of music was discussed
at length.

"Miss Sherwood, do come to the piano and try that again with the
accompaniment," said the leader, Mr. Ross. "You really must give us the
benefit of that flute-like whistle; it is perfectly irresistible."

"Please excuse me, Mr. Ross; I really cannot," replied Dexie.

"But we can take no excuse. After hearing you once, nothing but a
repetition will satisfy us. Mr. Gurney will play for you," was the eager
reply.

But Lancy kindly came to her aid, and by a few whispered words succeeded in
drawing off the attention from Dexie, by suggesting that if they would try
the opening piece first and give Miss Sherwood time to reconsider her
refusal, she might whistle later on; and Lancy was rewarded for this short
respite by a grateful look as he passed her the open book.

Dexie felt angry for bringing this embarrassing position upon herself, and
she was wondering if it would be possible for her to slip away unperceived,
when Gussie leaned over her shoulder.

"Well, you did make a show of yourself, you great tomboy! It is a pity that
you can't keep your bad manners out of sight, before strangers, anyway!"

This taunt acted like the prick of a goad, and made Dexie determine to stay
and show Miss Gussie whether her "bad manners" had placed her lower or
higher in the estimation of her friends. When the piece was rehearsed in
which she sang the solo, she put forth her best efforts, and rendered it
with such pathos and feeling that when it was ended, one and all, with the
exception of Gussie, were loud in its praise.

As she lingered a moment beside the piano talking with a member, Mr. Ross
stepped over to her side and begged her to try the new piece, and she
silently bowed in answer; but the hunted look in the dark eyes might have
told how hard it was to nerve herself for this ordeal.

The memory of Gussie's sneering remarks filled her with the needed courage,
and when Lancy sat down and passed his fingers over the keys her heart
ceased to throb; the very chords had a soothing power, and when Lancy
lifted his eyes to her face she replied with a look that she was ready.

The first notes of the piece sounded from the piano, but brought no
response from Dexie's lips. Lancy looked up quickly.

"Oh, Dexie, don't disappoint me!" he whispered.

Softly the bird-like notes ascended, fluttered and quivered, then slowly
gained strength, then the clear, full notes rang through the room, charming
every ear.

Those present listened in breathless silence. It was so faultlessly
rendered that it was hard to believe that weeks of practice had not been
given to bring such perfection of tone; but Dexie whistled for an object,
and that was respect and honor from those present in the face of her
"tomboy accomplishment."

It is not everyone who can whistle for a thing and get their wishes
gratified; but, to the honor and respect which Dexie desired, was added the
praise and approval of the delighted listeners. She felt proud to receive
it, for it would forever silence Gussie as to how her "bad manners" were
regarded.

Dexie was satisfied with her victory, and would not be persuaded into
repeating the piece, though, at the close of the rehearsal, she consented
to accompany Lancy in giving an exhibition of a bird-song.

It was the same chorus that had delighted the listeners the morning after
the adventure in the snow-drifts, and the rendering of it was greatly
enhanced by the better instrument before them.

Lancy played the accompaniment and whistled with her, and their voices
seemed transformed into veritable song-birds, as they joined or answered
each other's call.

"We must have that at our concert, Miss Sherwood," said Mr. Ross. "We
cannot afford to miss it. How is it that I never had the pleasure of
listening to this sort of music before, Mr. Gurney? You should have told us
of this new accomplishment, Miss Sherwood."

"Indeed! you never would have heard it at all, if I had not forgotten
myself so completely," said Dexie, smiling; "but as to whistling at the
concert, that is out of the question. It is distressing enough to show my
tomboyism before the members here."

"Nonsense! there is nothing of the 'tomboy' about that kind of whistling,"
said one of the members. "It is an accomplishment few possess."

"Well, it is fortunate for us that you made us aware of this talent of
yours, even though it was unintentional on your part, Miss Sherwood," said
Mr. Ross. "We must persuade you to give others the pleasure of hearing you.
It would add much to the attraction of our concert."

"You are most kind, and your remarks most flattering, but I must be
excused," said Dexie, turning with a smile to those who had addressed her.
"I do not forget that 'whistling girls' are generally frowned down."

"But there is no comparison between the usual tomboy whistle of girls, and
those bobolink, canary-bird notes that come from your lips," said an
enthusiastic member.

"Miss Sherwood, I am going to place that piece third on the programme, and
will call around to-morrow and see you and arrange for these extra pieces.
We can leave out some of the songs rather than miss the treat you can give
to those who will be eager to hear you," said the leader, persuasively.

"Indeed, Mr. Ross, I could not think of whistling before the audience we
hope to have, so I will excuse you from calling upon me, if that is to be
your errand," said Dexie, hurriedly. "I am doing my share as it is."

"Well, if you think it will be too much for you, someone else might take
your solo; but that seems a pity, when you are so well prepared. Do you
find it tiresome to whistle?"

"Oh, it is not that; it would not tire me if I whistled all day. But I
cannot face a hall full of people and whistle to them. It would be
dreadful!"

"I would not urge the matter if I did not feel positive of your success. I
am sure the members of the club have the average intelligence, and, seeing
that you have charmed us all by your unique performance, you need have no
hesitancy in trying your powers before a Halifax audience," was the reply.

"Don't think of it. Oh, I never could do it, Mr. Ross. I should be hissed
off the stage."

"No danger of that, Miss Sherwood," said Mr. Markman, the best tenor of the
club. "I'll answer for it that you will so electrify the audience that they
will demand an encore. Don't hide your talent from those who would be so
sure to appreciate it."

"Give the matter serious consideration," said Mr. Ross. "I will run in
to-morrow and see you, even though I may run the risk of a cool reception.
What time shall I call?" he added, with a smile.

"Well, if you must call and see me, I hope it will be on some other errand;
I will be at leisure any time in the afternoon, say three o'clock." Then,
looking up with a smile, added: "Don't imagine I shall reconsider the
matter; I simply could not do it."

"I'll hope to find you in a better frame of mind to-morrow, Miss Sherwood,"
he replied, giving her hand a cordial grasp. "May I ask permission for Mr.
Gurney to be present at the interview?"

"Oh, certainly. I think you can safely venture to do so, seeing that he
will probably come in of his own accord, if you don't ask him," and Lancy
joined in the laugh raised at his expense.

"Well, that settles it, Mr. Gurney, I shall depend on your support in this
difficult matter. Now, before we separate, I think I am voicing the
sentiments of the members here when I ask for one more song. Now, Miss
Sherwood, you have acknowledged that it does not tire you to whistle, so
you will send us home in the best of spirits if you will favor us once
more."

Dexie placed her hands over her ears at the applause that greeted these
words, and amidst the general laughter Lancy drew her to the piano.

"I am going to sing 'The Mocking-Bird,' so you must whistle," he said.
"Come, Dexie, there is no backing out," as she tried to escape him.

"Well, get Gussie to sing with you, and I will; perhaps it will help her
good-nature a little--it needs help," she whispered, laughing.

On being sufficiently urged, Gussie stepped over to the piano beside them,
and joined her alto to the chorus.

Dexie played and whistled, and, as the members listened, all joined Mr.
Ross in thinking that their programme should hold this song also.

"Well, Miss Sherwood, I think you have kept the best to the last. I have
heard that song several times, but never 'listened to the mocking-bird'
after all. The song in itself is beautiful, but, after hearing you whistle,
I see that it is imperfect with the mocking-bird left out. This is rather a
cold climate for that species of bird, Miss Sherwood, but I shall give a
Halifax audience the pleasure of hearing one, if I have to import one from
the South on purpose for the occasion. To-morrow at three o'clock,
remember, Mr. Gurney, and may the fates be propitious!"

When Mr. Sherwood learned of Dexie's refusal to whistle, he was as eager to
change her decision as any member of the club.

For once Gussie sided with Dexie, and said all she could to influence her
against it, but her motive was so apparent that her father reproved her
sharply.

When Mr. Ross and Lancy made their appearance, Dexie had to listen to the
expostulations of three very urgent gentlemen; and though she held to her
refusal for some time, she was obliged to capitulate at last, stipulating
that she should only be asked to whistle one piece. Mr. Ross was obliged to
be content with this, but he found it hard to decide which of the pieces he
would put upon the programme.

But a thought occurred to him, and he smiled as he considered it. Yes, he
would set down the new piece; and if he knew a Halifax audience, and he
thought he did, one piece would not content them. The others would do
nicely for the "encore" which he knew would be demanded.

He smiled with pleasure as he rose to depart.

"I will set you down for the new piece you were running over last evening,
Miss Sherwood," said he, "and Mr. Gurney will play your accompaniment. If
you do as well at the concert as you did last night when you first saw the
music, I shall be well satisfied."

"But what if I should fail, papa?" said Dexie, when she found herself alone
with her father. "How can I stand before so many strange people and
whistle? Oh! I'm sure I cannot. No young lady whistles in public, and I
feel sure they will hiss me off the stage!"




CHAPTER XIV.


The time slipped by bringing the eventful evening. In many homes nimble
fingers had been busy for days fashioning certain garments that were to
make the wearers quite fascinating to beholders. But Dexie declared that as
her best gown was very becoming, she had no intention of getting a new one
on purpose for the occasion, a few extra touches would make it quite
presentable. On the morning of the concert, she found there were still some
minor things needed to complete her toilet, so she went down-town to do a
little shopping.

As she stood in a store waiting for her parcel, her eyes rested on a
handbill lying near, and as she read it her face flushed angrily, then
turned pale to the lips, for those great, staring letters announced the
evening's performance, and she was referred to as one of the chief
attractions, but in terms that aroused her temper to its highest pitch.

Who could have worded that awful handbill? She longed to stamp her foot, or
scream, or give vent to her angry feelings in some way. How dared they
single her out by such a nickname? She snatched the parcel from the hands
of the astonished clerk and left the store with more speed than grace.

While she is flying homeward, her angry eyes shining like stars from her
pale, set face, let us read the cause of her displeasure.

"Temperance Hall. Temperance Hall.

To-night.

The Halifax Song and Glee Club will give their
Annual Concert
In Temperance Hall To-night.

Full Opening Chorus by the Members.

First Appearance of
THE AMERICAN WARBLER,
The only songster ever known to whistle popular airs to
piano accompaniment.

Don't Miss It.

Programme to consist of Solos, Duets, Quartettes
and
Full Choruses.

God Save the Queen."

When Dexie reached home she flung open the door and rushed up the stairs to
her own room in a perfect fury.

Gussie had watched her swift approach from the window, and fearing that
some awful calamity must have happened, followed her sister upstairs, and
found her walking the floor like a caged tiger, her eyes positively fierce
as they looked straight before her, though seeing nothing.

"What is the matter, Dexie?" she asked in alarm.

Dexie turned and motioned imperiously for her to leave the room, then shut
the door with a slam that shook the house. Gussie hurried to her father,
saying:

"Oh, papa! do go and see Dexie. I believe she is going to have a fit, for
she looks awful."

"What's that?" and Mr. Sherwood looked up from his paper. "Did you say
something the matter with Dexie?"

"Yes, do go and see what it is, for she turned me out of the room."

"Have you been teasing her again about whistling?" he asked, looking at
her sharply. "I told you to let your sister alone."

"Oh! it isn't that, papa. I have not offended her. She has only just
returned from the store, but there's something the matter with her, for her
very looks frightened me."

Being thus admonished Mr. Sherwood was soon in Dexie's room, and he was
startled at the intense expression of his daughter's face.

"My dear girl! what has happened to you?" he tenderly asked, as he took her
hands and drew her to his side. "Try and tell me." He stroked her ruffled
hair, and spoke in soothing tones, but it was several minutes before she
could utter a word.

"Dexie, my dear, calm yourself, and tell me what is the matter; you will
make yourself ill. What is it all about, my dear?"

Dexie pointed to the crumpled handbill that she had tossed under the table
as she threw off her wraps, and her father stooped and picked it up, then
smoothing it across his knee read the cause of offence.

"Why, you foolish girl! surely it is not this that has put you into such a
passion?"

"I won't have it! How dared they! The 'American Warbler,' indeed! Do they
think I will overlook such insolence and go to their old concert after that
public insult! No, I won't put up with it, so there!" and a flood of tears
brought relief to the overcharged heart.

"Dexie, they never intended to hurt your feelings; it is only a mistake on
your part to think so for a moment. Why, it is quite a joke, one that the
audience will not be slow in appreciating, I'll warrant. Come, dry your
eyes, and never mind this announcement."

But Dexie flung herself on the bed, sobbing through her tears: "Oh, papa,
what made you make me say I would whistle when I did not want to from the
first. I did not think they would treat me so meanly, or I never would have
consented. But I won't go near the old hall to-night; no, not a step!"

Her father sat down on the bed beside her, and pushed away the hair from
her hot face, saying: "You are quite mistaken, dear, in thinking they meant
anything but praise in announcing your part of the programme. If you will
just think a moment, you will see it yourself."

"Praise, indeed! They have insulted me in a most public manner. How dared
they take such liberties with my name, when it was only as a special favor
I consented to whistle at all! Oh, it was such a mean, shabby trick!" and
the tears fell in showers.

"Come, Dexie, I can't let you cry like this," and he lifted her gently and
placed her beside him. "You will surely be sick if you do not control
yourself, my dear. It was too bad to vex you when there is so much
depending on you; but it was done unintentionally, I know, and they will
soon apologize when they know that the announcement has annoyed you."

"But what will be the good of that? An apology will not recall those
handbills, which, I daresay, are all over the city. But I'll make them
repent it; they'll find that even a worm will turn if trampled on."

"Tut, tut, what nonsense! You are not a worm nor the kind of bird that eats
the worm either--but here's Aunt Jennie. Auntie, can't you help me put a
grain of sense into this silly girl's pate? She imagines she has been
insulted by this bit of flattery, hence these tears," and he held out the
handbill for inspection.

Copyright (c) 2007. topmasterworks.com. All rights reserved.