Episode 11 - Beautiful Joe - Marshall Saunders

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Episode Transcript

(00:00):
Chapter twenty one, Mister Maxwell andmister Harry. Mister Maxwell wore a coat
with loose pockets, and while hewas speaking, he rested on his crutches
and began to slap them with hishands. No, there's nothing here today,

(00:21):
he said. I think I emptiedmy pockets before I went to the
meeting. Just as he said that, there was a loud squeal. Oh,
my guinea pig, he exclaimed.I forgot him, and he pulled
out a little spotted creature a fewinches long. Poor dearie, did I

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hurt you? And he sued itvery tenderly. I stood and looked at
mister Maxwell, for I had neverseen anyone like him. He had thick,
curly hair into white face, andhe looked just like a girl.
While I was staring at him,something peeped up out of one of his

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pockets and ran out its tongue atme so fast that I could scarcely see
it, and then drew back again. I was thunderstruck. I had never
seen such a creature before. Itwas long and thin, like a boy's
cane, into a bright green colorlike grass, and it had a queer,

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shiny eyes. But its tongue wasthe strangest part of it. It
came and went like lightning. Iwas uneasy about it and began to bark.
What's the matter, Joe, saidmissus Wood. The pig won't hurt
you. But it wasn't the pigI was afraid of. And I kept

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on barking. And all the timethat strange live thing kept sticking up its
head and putting out its tongue atme, and neither of them noticed it.
It's getting on towards six, saidmissus Wood. We must be going
home. Come, mister Mixwell.The young man put the guinea pig in

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his pocket, picked up his crutches, and we started down the sunny village
street. He left his guinea pigat his boarding house as he went by,
and he said nothing about the othercreature, so I knew he did
not know it was there. Iwas very much taken with mister Maxwell.

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He seemed so bright and happy inspite of his lameness, which kept him
from running about like other young men. He looked a little older than Miss
Laura. In one day a weekor two later, when they were sitting
on the veranda, I heard himtell her that he was just nineteen.

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He told her too that his lamenessmade him love animals. They never laughed
at him or slighted him, orguide him patient because he could not walk
quickly. They were always good tohim and he saved. He loved all

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animals, while he liked very fewpeople. On this day, as he
was limping along, he said tomissus Wood, I am getting more absent
minded every day. Have you heardof my latest escapade? No, she
said, I am glad, hereplied. I was afraid it would be

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all over the village by this time. I went to church last Sunday with
my poor guinea pig in my pocket. He hasn't been well, and I
was attending to him before church andput him in there to get warm,
and forgot about him. Unfortunately,I was late and the back seats were
all full, so I had tosit farther up than I usually do.

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During the first hymn, I happenedto strike Piggy against the side of the
seat. Such an ear splitting squealhe set up. It sounded as if
I was murdering him. The peoplestared and stared, and I had to
leave the church, overwhelmed with confusion. Missus Wood and Miss Laura laughed,

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and then they got talking about othermatters that were not so interesting to me,
so I did not listen, butI kept close to Miss Laura,
for I was afraid that green thingmight hurt her. I wondered very much
what its name was. I don'tthink I should have feared it so much

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if I had known what it was. There's something the matter with Joe,
said Miss Laura, and we gotinto the lane. What is it,
dear old fellow. She put downher little hand, and I licked it
and wished so much that I couldspeak. Sometimes I wish very much that

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I had the gift of speech,and then at other times I see how
little it would profit me, andhow many foolish things I should often say.
And I don't believe human beings wouldlove animals as well if they could
speak. When we reached the house, we got a joyful surprise. There

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was a trunk standing on the veranda, and as soon as Missus Wood saw
it, she gave a little shriek. My dear boy, mister Harry was
there sure enough, and stepped outthrough the open door. He took his
mother in his arms and kissed her. Then he shook hands with Miss Laura

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and mister Maxwell, who seemed tobe an old friend of his. They
all sat down on the veranda andtalked, and I lay at Miss Laura's
feet and looked at mister Harry.He was such a handsome young man and
had such a noble face. Hewas older and graver looking than when I

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saw him last, and he hada light brown mustache that he did not
have when he was in Fairport.He seemed very fond of his mother and
of Miss Laura, and however gravehis face might be, when he was
looking at mister Maxwell, it alwayslighted up when he turned to them.

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What dog is that? He saidat last, with a puzzled face and
pointing to me. Why Harry,exclaimed Miss Laura. Don't you know,
beautiful Joe, that you rescued fromthat wretched milkman? Is it possible?
He said, that this well conditionedcreature is the bundle of dirty skin and

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bones that we nursed in Fairport.Come here, sir, do you remember
me? Indeed I did remember him, and I licked his hands and looked
up gratefully into his face. Youwere almost handsome now, he said,
caressing me with a firm, kindhand and of a solid bill too.

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You look like a fighter, ButI suppose you wouldn't let him fight even
if he wanted to, Laura,and he smiled and glanced at her.
No, she said, I don'tthink I should, but he can fight
when the occasion requires it, andshe told him about our night with Jenkins.

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All all the time she was speaking, mister Harry held me by the
paws and stroked my body over andover again. When she finished, he
put his head down to me andmurmured, good dog. And I saw
that his eyes were red and shining. That's a capital story. We must

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have it at the Band of Mercy, saying mister Max Whale. Missus Wood
had gone to help prepare the tea, so the two young men were alone
with Miss Laura. When they haddone talking about me, she asked mister
Harry a number of questions about hiscollege life and his trip to New York,

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for he had not been studying allthe time that he was away.
What are you going to do withyourself Gray when your college courses ended,
I asked mister max Whale, I'mgoing to settle down right here and mister
Harry, what be a farmer,asked his friend. Yeah, why not?

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Nothing? Only I imagined you wouldtake a profession. The professions are
overstocked, and we have not farmersenough for the good of the country.
There is nothing like farming, tomy mind. In no other employment have
you a surer living. I donot like the cities. The heat and

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dust, and crowds of people andbuildings overtopping one another, and the rush
of living take my breath away.Suppose I did go to a city,
I would sell out my share ofthe farm and have a few thousand dollars.
You know I am not an intellectualgiant. I would never distinguish myself
in any profession. I would bea poor lawyer or doctor, living in

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the back street all the days ofmy life, and never watch a tree
or flower grow, or ten toan animal, or have a drive less
I pay for it, no,thank you. I agree with President Elliott
of Harvard. He says, scarcelyone person in ten thousand betters himself permanently

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by leaving his rural home and settlingin a city. If one is a
millionaire, city life is agreeable enoughfor one can always get away from it,
But I am beginning to think thatit is a dangerous thing in more
ways than one, to be amillionaire. I believe the safety of the
country lies in the hands of farmers, for they are seals and very poor

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or very rich. We stand betweenthe two dangerous classes, the wealthy and
the paupers. But most farmers leadsuch a dog's life, said mister Maxwelle,
So they do. Farming isn't madeone half as attractive as it should
be, said mister Harry. MisterMaxwelle smiled, attractive, farm Just catch

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an outline of that, will yougray? In the first place, said
mister Harry, I would like totear out of the heart of the farmer,
the thing that is as firmly implantedin him as it is in the
heart of his city brother, Thething that is doing more harm to our
nation than anything else under the sun. What is that, asked mister max

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Whale curiously, The thirst for gold. The farmer wants to get rich,
and he works so hard to doit that he wears himself out soul and
body. And the young people aroundhim get so disgusted with that way of
getting rich that they go off tothe cities to find some other way,
or at least to enjoy themselves.For I don't think many young people are

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animated by a desire to heap upmoney. Mister max Whale looked amused.
There is certainly a great exodus fromcountry place cityward, he said, what
would be your plan for checking it. I would make the farm so pleasant
that you couldn't hire the boys andgirls to leave it. I would have

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them work, and work hard too, but when their work was over,
I would let them have some fun. That is what they go to the
city for. They want amusement insociety and to get into some kind of
crowd. When their work is done. The young men and young women want
to get together, as is onlynatural. Now that could be done in

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the country. If farmers would becontented with smaller profits and smaller farms,
their houses could be nearer together,their children would have opportunities of social intercourse.
There could be societies and clubs,and that would tend to a distribution
of literature. A farmer ought totake five or six papers and two or

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three magazines, he would find itwould pay him in the long run.
And there ought to be a lawmade compelling him to go to the post
office once a day. Mister maxWhale burst out laughing, and another to
make him mend his roads as wellas mend his ways. I tell you

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Gray, the bad roads would putan end to all these fine schemes of
yours. Imagine farmers calling on eachother on a dark evening after a spring
freshet. I can see them mirroredand bogged, and the house a mile
ahead of them. That is true, said mister Harry. The road question

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is a serious one. Do youknow how Father and I settle it?
No, said mister max Whale.We got so tired of the whole business,
and the farmers around here spent somuch time in discussing the art of
roadmaking as to whether it should beviewed from the engineering point of view or

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the farmer's practical point interview, andwhether we would require this number of stump
extractors or that number, and howmany shovels and crushers and ditches would be
necessary to keep our roads in order, and so on that we simply withdrew
we keep our own roads in order. Once a year, Father gets a

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gang of men and tackles every sectionof the road that borders upon our land,
and our roads are the fast aroundhere. I wish the government would
take up this matter of making roadsand settle it. If we had good,
smooth country roads, such as theyhave in some parts of Europe,
we would be able to travel comfortablyover them all through the year, and

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our draft animals would last longer,for they would not have to expend so
much energy and drawing their loads.End of Chapter twenty one. Mister Maxwelle
and mister Harry, Chapter twenty two, What happened at the tea table.

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From my station under Miss Laura's chair, I could see that all the time
mister Harry was speaking, mister Maxwelle, although he spoke rather as if he
was laughing at him, was yetglancing at him admiringly. When mister Harry
was silent, he exclaimed, youare right, You are right, Gray.

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With your smooth highways and plenty ofschools and churches and libraries and meetings
for young people, you would makecountry life a paradise. And I tell
you what you would do too.You would empty the slums of the cities.
It is the slowness and dulness ofcountry life, and not their poverty
alone that keep the poor in dirtylanes and tenement houses. They want stirring

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amusement too, poor souls when theirday's work is over. I believe they
would come to the country if itwere made more pleasant for them. That
is another question, said mister Harry, A burning question in my mind,
the labor and capital one. WhenI was in New York, Maxwell,
I was in a hospital and sawa number of men who had been day

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laborers. Some of them were oldand feeble, and others were young men
broken down in the prime of life. Their limbs were shrunken and drawn.
They had been digging in the earth, and working on high buildings, and
confined in dingy basements, and haddone all kinds of hard labor for other
men. They had given their livesand strength for others, and this was

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the end of it, to diepoor and forsaken. I looked at them,
and they reminded me of the martyrsof old, ground down, living
from hand to mouth, separated fromtheir families. In many cases they had
had a bitter lot. They hadnever had a chance to get away from
their fate, and had to worktill they dropped. I tell you,

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there is something wrong we don't doenough for the people that slave and toil
for us. We should take bettercare of them. We should not herd
them together like cattle, and whenwe get rich, we should carry them
along with us and give them partof our grains, for without them we
would be as poor as they are. Good, Harry, I'm with you.

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There said a voice behind him,and looking around, we saw mister
Wood standing in the doorway, gazingdown proudly at his step son. Mister
Henry smiled and getting up, said, won't you have my chair, sir?
No, thank you. Your motherwishes us to come to tea.

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There are muffins, and you knowthey won't improve with keeping. They all
went to the dining room, andI followed them on the way. Mister
Woods said, right on top ofthat talk of yours, Harry, I've
got to tell you of another personwho is going to Boston to live.

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Who is it, said mister Harry, Lazy Dan Wilson. I've been to
see him this afternoon. You know, his wife is sick and they're half
starved. He says he is goingto the city for he hates to chop
wood and work, and he thinksmaybe he'll get some light job there.

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Mister Harry looked grave, and misterMaxwell said he will starve. That's what
he will do. Precisely, saidmister Wood, spreading out his hard brown
hands as he sat down at thetable. I don't know why it is,
but the present generation has a marvelousway of skimming around any kind of

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work with their hands. They'll worktheir brains till they ain't got any more
backbone than a caterpillar. But asfor manual labor, it's old timmy and
out of fashion. I wonder howthese farms would have ever been carved out
of the backwoods if the old Puritanshad sat down on the rocks with their
noses and a lot of books andtried to figure out just how little work

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they could do and yet exist.Now, father said missus Wood, you
were trying to insinuate that the presentgeneration is lazy, and I'm sure it
isn't. Look it's Harry. Heworks as hard as you do. It
isn't that like a woman, sayedmister Wood with a good natured laugh.

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The present generation consists of her sonand the past of her husband. I
don't think all our young people arelazy. Hattie. But how in creation
unless the Lord reigns down a fewfarmers, are we going to support all
our young lawyers and doctors. Theysay the world is getting healthier and better,
but we've got to fight a littlemore and raise some more criminals.

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And we've got to take to eatingpies and doughnuts for breakfast again, or
some of our young sprouts from thecolleges, or go a begging. You
don't mean to undervalue the advantages ofa good education to you, mister Wood,
said mister Maxwell. No, No, Look at Henry. There isn't

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he pegging away at his studies withmy hearty approval, And he's going to
be nothing but a plain common farmer. But he'll be a better one than
I've been, though, because he'sgot a trained mind. I found out
when he was a lad going tothe village school. He'd lay out his
little garden by geometry and dig hisditches by algebra. Educations a help to

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any man. What I'm trying toget at is this that in some way
or other, we're running mortar brainsand less to hard work than our forefighters
did. Mister Wood was beating onthe table with his forefinger while he talked,
and everyone was laughing at him.When you've quite finished speechifying, John

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said, Missus Wood, perhaps you'llserve the berries and past the cream and
sugar. Do you get yellow creamlike this in the village, mister Maxwell,
No, Missus Wood, he said, ours is a much paler yellow.
And then there was a great tinklingof china and passing of dishes,

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and talking and laughing, and noone noticed that I was not in my
usual place in the hall. Icould not get over my dread of the
green creature, and I had creptunder the table so that if it came
out and frightened Miss Laura, Icould jump up and catch it. When

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tea was half over, she gavea little cry. I sprang up on
her lap, and there, glidingover the table toward her was the wicked
looking green thing. I stepped onthe table and had it by the middle
before it could get to her.My hind legs were in a dish of
jelly, and my front ones werein a plate of cake, and I

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was very uncomfortable. The tail ofthe green thing hung in a milk picture,
and its tongue was still going atme. But I held it firmly
and quite steal Drop it, dropit, cried Miss Laura in tones of
distress, and mister Maxwell struck meon the back. So I let the

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thing go and stood sheepishly looking aboutme. Mister Wood was leaning back in
his chair, laughing with all hismight, and missus Wood was staring at
her untidy table with a rather longface. Miss Laura told me to jump

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on the floor, and then shehelped her aunt to take the spoiled things
off the table. I felt thatI had done wrong, so I slunk
out into the hall. Mister Maxwellwas sitting on the lounge, tearing his
handkerchief and strips and tying them aroundthe creature where my teeth had stuck in.

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You. I had been careful notto hurt it much, for I
knew it was a pet of his, but he did not know that,
and scowled at me, saying,you rascal, you've hurt my poor snake
terribly. I felt so badly tohear this that I went and stood with

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my head in a corner. Ihad almost rather be whipped than scolded.
After a while, mister Maxwell wentback into the room and they all went
on with their tea. I couldhear mister Wood's loud, cheery voice.
The dog did it quite right.A snake is mostly a poisonous creature,

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and his instinct told him to protecthis mistress. Where is he, Joe,
Joe? I would not move tillmiss Laura came and spoke to me.
Dear old dog. She whispered,you knew the snake was there all
the time, didn't you. Herwords made me feel better, and I

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followed her to the dining room,where mister Wood made me sit beside him
and eat scraps from his hand.All through the meal. Mister Maxwell had
gotten over his ill humor and waschatting in a lively Good Joe, he
say it. I was cross toyou, and I beg your pardon.

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It always roused me to have anyof my pets injured. You didn't know
my poor snake was only after somethingto eat. Missus Wood has pinned him
in my pocket so he won't comeout again. Do you know where I
got that snake, missus Wood?No, she said, you never told
me. It was across the riverby blue Ridge. He say it.

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One day last summer, I wasout rowing and getting very hot, tied
my boat in the shade of abig tree. Some village boys were in
the woods and hearing a great noise, I went to see what it was
all about. They were the bandof Mercy Boys and finding a country boy
beating a snake to death. Theywere remonstrating with him for his cruelty,

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telling him that some kinds of snakeswere a help to the farmer and destroyed
large numbers of field mice and othervermin. The boy, it was obstinate.
He had found the snake, andhe insisted upon his right to kill
it, and they were having arather lively time when I appeared. I
persuaded them to make the snake overto me. Apparently it was already dead.

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Thinking it might revive, I putit on some grass in the bow
of my boat. It lay theremotionless for a long time. I picked
up my oars and started for home. I had got halfway across the river
when I turned around and saw thatthe snake was gone. It had just
dropped into the water and was swimmingtoward the bank we had left. I
turned and followed it. It swamslowly and with evident pain, lifting its

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head every few seconds high above thewater. To see which way it was
going on. Reaching the bank,it coiled itself up, throwing up blood
and water. I took it up, carefully, carried it home, and
nursed it. It soon got betterand has been a pet of mine ever
since. After tea was over andMissus Wood and Miss Laura had helped the

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Dale finish the work, they allgathered in the parlor. The day had
been quite warm, but now acold wind had sprung up, and mister
Wood said that it was blowing uprain. Missus Wood said she thought a
fire would be pleasant, so theylighted the sticks of wood and the open

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grate, and all sat round theblazing fire. Mister Maxwelle tried to get
me to make friends with the littlesnake that he held in his hands toward
the blaze. And now that Iknew it was harmless, I was not
afraid of it. But it didnot like me and put out its funny

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little tongue whenever I looked at it. By and by, the rain began
to strike against the windows, andmister Maxwell said, this is just the
night for a story. Tell ussomething out of your experience, won't you,
mister Wood, What shall I tellyou? He stayed good humoredly.

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He was sitting between his wife andmister Harry, and had his hand on
mister Harry's knee. Something about animals, said mister Maxwelle. We seem to
be on that subject today, well, said mister Wood. I'll talk about
something that has been running in myhead for many a day. There is

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a good deal of talk nowadays aboutkindness to domestic animals, but I do
not hear too much about kindness towild ones. The same creator formed them
both. I do not see whyyou should not protect one as well as
the other. I have no moreright to torture a bear than a cow.
Our wild animals around here are gettingpretty well killed off, but there

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are lots in other places. Iused to be fond of hunting when I
was a boy, but I've gotrather disgusted with killing these late years.
An Unless the wild creatures ran outin our streets, I would lift no
hand to them. Shall I tellyou some of the sport we had when
I was a youngster? Yes,yes, they all exclaimed, end of

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Chapter twenty two. What happened atthe tea Table