Chapter 3 No.3

Beth's First Fishing Lesson

On Monday morning, Gustus came to Beth, bringing a cat with three kittens. The cat was of only a common breed, but Beth was delighted with the present.

Gustus was no longer ragged, but he looked very comical. There had been no boy's clothes in the house for him, and so Mrs. Davenport had fitted him out in an old suit of her husband's until another could be had. Of course, everything was much too large for Gustus, but he was as proud as Lucifer. He strutted up and down before Beth with his hands in his pockets and Fritz as usual tagging at his heels.

"Missy, I looks like de quality now shure, don't I?" he asked, grinning from ear to ear; and, not waiting for an answer, he added, "Yo'se been powerful good to me, missy, an' I'm goin' to give yo' Fritz, too."

Such generosity quite overcame Beth. "But, Gustus, I couldn't think of taking him away from you."

"Don't yo' worry, missy," he answered with a chuckle. "Yo' ain't takin' him 'way from me. I'se yo'r niggah now. Yo' owns Fritz an' me."

Beth hardly knew what to say. She thought it would be wrong to "own" Gustus. Slave days were a thing of the past. However, his devotion made her feel self-important.

"Well, Gustus, you must be a good boy," was all she could think to say.

"Yes, 'deed, missy. Come with me, an' I'll show yo' a bird's nest."

"I can't, Gustus. Mamma told me I must play indoors unless it clears. You know she's gone to town with Marian to see about a school for her. I'm not to go until next winter.

"I went to school once for a little while," she continued presently. "It happened this way: Marian attended a private school kept by a poor lady that mamma felt sorry for. Marian was not well, so mamma let me go in her place, so the lady wouldn't lose money. They didn't think I'd study hard, but, Gustus, I like to know things, and learning to read was a great help. So I studied very hard. Then I was taken very sick and was out of my head. I talked about books all the time. The doctor said I came near having brain fever, and it wouldn't do for me to go for awhile. I don't believe it would hurt me, but that's why I'm not going to school this year. Did you ever go to school, Gustus?"

"No, missy; me an' Fritz don't need no larnin'."

"But you do, Gustus, and I'm going to teach you."

He did not look particularly pleased at the offer. Nevertheless, Beth put the cat and the kittens down, and started to run for her books.

Bent as usual on mischief, Fritz made a dive and, catching the prettiest kitten by the neck, started away with it. The mother cat was after him in an instant. Her back was ruffled, and she struck Fritz with her sharp paw. He dropped the kitten and ran howling from the room. Gustus thought it a good opportunity to escape and started after Fritz.

"Gustus, come back," called Beth.

He looked crestfallen, but felt in duty bound to do as his little mistress bade. She brought her books, and had Gustus sit down beside her. Then she tried him with the alphabet. He proved woefully ignorant. After pointing out to him, A, B, and C, many, many times, she said:

"Show me A, Gustus."

He grinned. "A what, missy?"

"The letter A, of course, g--" She almost said "goosie," but thought in time that such a word would not be dignified for a teacher to use.

She did not find the fun in teaching that she had expected. Nevertheless, she persevered. Her face grew flushed as Gustus proved himself more and more ignorant.

When Mrs. Davenport returned from town, she found Beth at her self-imposed task.

"Mamma, Gustus ought to go to school."

"I don't wants to go," he cried, his eyes rolling so there was hardly any black visible in them.

Mrs. Davenport did not press the point. She intended to talk it over with her husband.

"Mr. Davenport and I bought these for you," she said, untying a package and drawing out a suit of boy's clothes, stockings, shoes, and underwear.

Gustus's pride now passed all bounds. He let forth a perfect avalanche of thanks, using large words, the meaning of which he had little idea. Even young darkies like big-sounding speech.

The morning passed quickly to Beth. To her delight, towards noon the sun broke through the clouds. This reminded her of Harvey Baker's invitation to fish.

"Mamma, may I go down to the wharf?" she asked immediately after luncheon. "Harvey Baker asked me to fish with him. He's a neighbor's boy I met Saturday."

"Well, I declare. Why didn't you tell me before?"

"I forgot." She had had so many things to think of and talk about, that she had not thought much about Harvey except at night. Then that awful alligator haunted her until she wanted to call her mamma, but she had not dared because of her promise.

"May I go, mamma?"

"But I do not know anything about him. He may not be nice at all."

Maggie, who chanced to be present, now spoke up:

"De Bakers am quality, Miss Mary. I wouldn't be feared to let missy go wid any Baker. I'se s'prised, do, dat Harvey axed her, 'cause he don't like girls. Are yo' sure, honey, he axed yo'?"

"Of course I am."

"Den yo' needn't fear, Miss Mary. Harvey's a big boy, and he'll take good care of her."

With this assurance, Mrs. Davenport gave her consent.

Beth put on her hat and hurried down the avenue to the river. On the end of the wharf sat Harvey, holding a fishing pole. He turned his head at her approach.

"Hello, Beth. I hardly expected you. I thought your mamma might be 'fraid to let you come."

She smiled. "Maggie said you were 'quality,' and would take care of me."

Harvey gave a grunt. "Don't know about quality, but as long as your mamma trusted me, she shan't repent. Take this line, and go to fishing."

He handed one to her and she dropped the end into the water. Harvey broke into a hearty laugh.

"You don't 'spect to catch fish without bait, do you?"

She answered meekly: "I s'pose not, but what is bait?"

Harvey laughed harder than ever. "Well, you are silly."

Beth felt aggrieved over being called silly, but she tried to look dignified.

"Don't care, you're just as silly as me. My papa says if people don't keep quiet, they'll scare all the fish away. You're laughing awful loud."

He immediately sobered down. "True for you, Beth. It is silly to laugh and you're a wise girl. You'll make a good fisher. Here, I'll put the bait on for you."

He baited her line and threw it out into deep water for her.

She waited patiently for the fish to bite, but it seemed as if her patience was to go unrewarded. She wished for Harvey's good opinion, and so she did not even speak. It proved pretty dull work and to make matters worse, Harvey pulled in a number of fish, while she did not get even a nibble.

She would have given up in despair had not her pride prevented. Harvey felt sorry for her and proved himself magnanimous.

"Beth, the fish are biting lively here. You take my place-yes, you must, and I'll go around on the other side."

Matters did not mend for Beth even with the change. The fish seemed to follow the boy. He caught several on the other side of the wharf, while the patient little fisher maiden waited in vain for the fish to take pity on her.

Presently, she almost feel asleep, fishing proved so uninteresting. Then there was a terrible jerk on her line, followed by a steady pull. Beth was afraid the alligator had swallowed the line, and that she would be dragged into the river. Nevertheless, she hung on bravely.

"Harvey, Harvey, come quick. I can't pull it in. Come quick."

He rushed to her assistance. The two children began pulling together. Harvey's eyes grew almost as big as his companion's.

"Beth, I believe you've caught a whale."

It was a very hard tug for them, but finally something black wiggled out of the water. Beth gave a little cry.

"Harvey, it's a snake. I don't want it, do you?"

His eyes sparkled. "It's no snake, Beth. It's an eel and a beauty too. My, what a monster!"

"Are you sure it is not a snake?"

"Of course I am. Darkies call them second cousins to snakes and won't eat them, but they are fine eating. My, just see him squirm. Isn't he big, though? You're a brick, Beth, to catch him."

By this time, the eel was safely landed on the wharf, and proved to be indeed a monster. It was a wonder that the children had ever been able to pull him in. Harvey tried to unhook him, but failed; for just as the boy thought he had him, the eel would slip away.

"Let's take him up to the house on the line. I want to show him to mamma," cried Beth.

"All right, but first we'll fix some lines for crabs."

"What are crabs?"

"My, don't you know? Well, we'll catch some when we come back and then you'll see."

He took some lines without hooks and tied raw beef on the ends of them. Then he threw them into the water.

Beth, as proud as if she had caught a tarpon, took up her line with the eel on it, and away marched the children to the house.

"Mamma, just see what I caught."

"Well, I declare," cried Mrs. Davenport at sight of the eel. "Did you really catch that all by yourself, child?"

"Yes, mamma, except that Harvey had to help me pull it in, or else the eel would have pulled me into the water. It tugged awfully hard, but I wouldn't let go. Mamma, this is Harvey and we're just having heaps of fun." She had forgotten, already, that a few minutes before she thought she was having a very stupid time.

Harvey raised his cap. Mrs. Davenport liked the boy's appearance.

"Mamma, you keep the eel to show papa. Harvey and I are going back to catch crabs. Come on, Harvey."

Mrs. Davenport detained them a moment. "Harvey, you'll take good care of my little girl, won't you?"

"Yes, ma'am," and back the children scampered to the wharf.

"You see if there is anything on this line, Beth, while I go around to the other lines. If there is, call me, and I'll come with the net, and help you land him."

Away went Harvey. Beth began pulling in the line. There, hanging on the meat with two awful claws, was a great big greenish crab. His eyes bulged out, and altogether he looked so fierce that Beth was somewhat frightened at him, but she wished to surprise Harvey. Therefore she overcame her fear, and continued pulling up the line. For a wonder, the crab hung on all the way from the water to the wharf. Beth was delighted to think she had caught something without Harvey's aid. Mr. Crab, however, as soon as he felt himself trapped, let go of the meat, and began crawling towards the side of the wharf. Beth saw her prize vanishing, and made a dive for it. Up went the crab's claws, and caught the child by the fingers. A scream immediately rent the air.

Harvey came running to find the cause of the commotion. He had to laugh, notwithstanding tears were streaming down Beth's face. She looked so ludicrous, dancing up and down with that awful crab hanging on like grim death.

"'Beware of the Jabberwock that bites, my child,'" quoted Harvey.

Beth stopped screaming an instant. "I thought it was a crab."

"So it is. I was just repeating a line from Alice in Wonderland."

While Harvey spoke, he was trying to loosen the crab. The harder he pulled, the more angry it grew, and the harder it bit. Finally, he pulled so desperately that the crab came, but a claw was left hanging to poor Beth's finger.

Harvey started to drop the crab. Again Beth ceased her yelling.

"Harvey, don't you dare let my crab go. Put it in the basket and then come and get this awful claw off my finger."

He did as he was bid, secretly admiring his little friend's pluck. They had a great time getting off the dismembered claw, but, finally, they succeeded. Poor Beth's finger was bitten to the bone. Harvey really felt very sympathetic, but, boy-like, was somewhat bashful about expressing it.

"Beth, does it hurt much?" was all he said.

"Pretty bad," she admitted, forcing back the tears. "Say, Harvey, were there any other crabs?"

"I had time to look at only two of the lines, I got three crabs from the two. There were two on one line, so with yours we have four. But never mind the crabs; we must go up to the house and have your finger dressed."

"No, we must first see if there are any other crabs. Here, tie my handkerchief around my finger. I guess I can stand it awhile."

The handkerchief was tied about the sore finger, and then Beth watched Harvey while he pulled up the lines. There were crabs on every one, and on some of them there were two. Harvey would pull the crabs to the surface of the water and then scoop the net under them. In moving the crabs from the net to the basket, he held them by the hind legs, because, in this position, a crab cannot reach around with its claws to bite.

Altogether, the children caught about fifteen crabs, and they took them up to the house with them. Arriving there, they found that Mrs. Davenport had driven to town to bring home Mr. Davenport and Marian.

Beth therefore went to Maggie about the finger, and Harvey accompanied her. Maggie proved very sympathetic.

"Yo' precious little honey, yo'. Dat finger jes' am awful, but I knows what'll cure it in no time. Here, yo', Gustus, yo' run and fetch me some tar. Hurry, yo' lazy niggah yo'. Dar, dar, honey chile, it'll be all right in no time. Tar am jes' fine for a sore."

For a wonder, Gustus did hurry and was back in no time with the tar. Maggie dressed the wound with it very gently and Beth began to feel easier immediately.

"Now, honey, it'll be all right. If yo'd only known, and jes' held yo'r finger with dat crab out over the watah, it 'd have seen its shadah and gone aftah it."

"Here, Beth," Harvey now said, "you can have all of the crabs; I guess I'd better go."

"Please don't go, Harvey; I want you to stay. Say, Harvey, are crabs good to eat?"

"Of course, they are. You just put them in water and boil them and they are dandy."

"Oh, how I wish we could boil them. Wouldn't papa be surprised? Maggie, can't we boil them?" and Beth seized the cook's hand and held it, pressing it coaxingly.

"Law, honey, dar ain't no room on de stove. I's gettin' de dinnah."

"Please, Maggie, make room," continued Beth, already having learned her power of persuasion over her new mammy.

"I can't, honey, but I'll tell yo' what. Yo' an' Harvey kin do it if he knows how to boil dem."

"Of course, I know how."

"Well, I'll let yo' take dis big iron kettle into de library. Yo' kin put de kettle on de fire, dar, an' boil dem."

Beth danced up and down for joy. "Oh, won't that be fun. Thank you, Maggie. You're a lovely Maggie."

"Dar ain't no hot watah, but I'll take dis cold watah in fur yo', an' it'll heat in no time."

Maggie carried the kettle, half-filled with water, and placed it securely, as she thought, on the big open wood-fire in the library. Then she left the children to their own devices, Fritz alone keeping them company. A watched kettle never boils, and the children did not have the patience to test the truth of this.

"I hate to wait for water to boil," said Beth.

Just then Harvey conceived a brilliant idea.

"Say, Beth, we'll put in the crabs before it begins to boil. Then we can play until they're done."

"And the cold water won't hurt them like hot, will it, Harvey?"

Without answering, he emptied the crabs into the kettle. Beth viewed them critically.

"There's the horrid old thing that bit me. I know him by his one claw."

"He shall be the first one eaten to show how mean he was. What shall we play?"

"Let's play stage."

He accepted the suggestion, and while they played, Fritz snoozed comfortably before the fire.

The water began to get hot, and the crabs became lively. They crawled around so vigorously that a log slipped and upset the kettle. There was a sizzling of water, and, in an instant, fifteen crabs were loose in the Davenport library.

This avalanche of crabs awakened Fritz, who opened his eyes halfway and beheld a crab at his very nose. Perhaps in his sleepiness, he thought it another kind of kitten ready for a frolic. At any rate, he put out his paw towards the crab, which met his advances more than halfway. With a wild howl, Fritz jumped up on three feet while the crab clung grimly to the fourth.

"Poor Fritz! You, too, should beware of the Jabberwock that bites," cried Beth from the lounge where she had taken refuge.

Around and around whirled Fritz in a most lively manner.

"Just see him," cried Beth triumphantly. "Gustus always said he could dance, and this proves it."

Harvey, who was trying to catch some of the crabs, grunted disdainfully, but continued his unsuccessful chase without any other comment.

Fortunately for Fritz, the crab dropped of its own accord, and the frightened dog tore like a streak of lightning through the house and on outdoors.

Once Harvey stooped and thought he surely had a crab, when Beth beheld another crab with claws upstretched right behind.

"Harvey, come here quick," cried Beth; "a crab's going to bite you in the back."

Thereupon, he, too, jumped upon the lounge to escape the threatening claws. Immediately, however, he said:

"Oh, pshaw, it's silly to be afraid of crabs. I'm going to get down again." Beth, however, caught hold of his hand, saying:

"No, I won't let you. I wish somebody would come to help us. I'm going to try to make Maggie hear me. Maggie. Maggie."

Back from the kitchen floated the slow tones of Maggie.

"What am it, honey?"

"Maggie, come here, quick."

Then they heard the soft tread of her feet crossing the piazza.

"She's coming, Harvey."

Maggie poked her head through the door and beheld the children upon the lounge.

"Laws a massy, what am yo' doin' thar, honeys?"

Then she saw the crabs on the floor, and she began to laugh.

Now when Maggie laughed it meant more than ordinary merriment. Her eyes rolled and her sides shook.

"Ha, ha, ha. Oh my, oh me. Ha, ha, ha. Well, dis am a sight. I jes' 'lows I must go to Titus about dis yere. Ha, ha, ha," and away she went.

"But, Maggie," cried Beth in protest, "I think you're real mean. We want you to help us catch them."

But Maggie paid no attention to the appeal.

The one-clawed crab stopped for a moment in front of the lounge.

"Harvey, he's making fun of us, too,"

"The impudent thing," exclaimed Harvey, jumping down.

By a dexterous move, he captured the crab.

"Don't you come back here with it," commanded Beth.

There was a space free from crabs between Harvey and the window. He ran to the window and threw the crab out.

January chanced to be working not far away, and Harvey spied him.

"Come in here quick, January," he cried. "There are a lot of crabs after us."

January, for a wonder, came running, and his valor for once proved remarkable. He showed no fear of the crabs, and darted around so quickly that he caught every one in the room. The one-legged one that Harvey had thrown out of the window was never found. Perhaps it made its way back to the river, and told of its harrowing experiences on land, and especially how it had lost its claw.

Fritz limped for several days after his experience with the crab and Beth had a terrible nightmare that night in which crabs were giants with claws of iron.