Episode 16 - Beautiful Joe - Marshall Saunders

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Episode Transcript

(00:00):
Chapter thirty one in the Cow Stable. Isn't it a strange thing? Said
miss Laura, that a little thinglike a fly can cause so much annoyance
to animals as well as to people. Sometimes when I am trying to get
more to sleep in the morning,their little feet tickle me so that I

(00:20):
am nearly frantic and have to flyout of bed. You shall have some
netting to put over your bed,said missus Wood. But suppose, Laura,
you had no hands to brush awaythe flies. Suppose your whole body
was covered with them, and youwere tied up somewhere and could not get
loose. I can't imagine more exquisitetorture myself. Last summer, the flies

(00:47):
were dreadful. It seems to methat they are getting worse and worse every
year, and worry the animals more. I believe it is because the birds
are getting thinned out all over thecountry. There are not enough of them
to catch the flies. John saysthat the next improvements we make on the
farm are to be wire galls atall the stable windows and screen doors to

(01:11):
keep the little pests from the horsesand cattle. One afternoon last summer,
mister Maxwell's mother came for me togo for a drive with her. The
heat was so intense, and whenwe got down by the river, she
proposed getting out of the phaeton andsitting under the trees to see if it

(01:32):
would be any cooler. She wasdriving a horse that she had got from
the hotel in the village, arawn horse that was clipped and check reined
and had his tail dock. Iwouldn't drive behind to tell less horse.
Now then I wasn't so particular.However, I made her unfasten the check
rein before I'd set foot in thecarriage. Well, I thought that horse

(01:57):
would go mad. He'd tremble inever, and looked so pitifully at us.
The flies were nearly eating him up. Then he'd start a little.
Missus Maxwell had a weight at hishead to hold him, but he could
easily have dragged that. He wasa good dispositioned horse, and he didn't
want to run away, But hecould not stand still. I soon jumped

(02:23):
up and slapped him and rubbed himtill my hands were dripping wet. The
poor brute was so grateful and wouldkeep touching my arm with his nose.
Missus Maxwell sat under the trees fanningherself and laughing at me. But I
didn't care. How could I enjoymyself with a dumb creature writhing in pain

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before me. A docked horse canneither eat nor sleep comfortably in the fly
season. In one of our NewEngland villages, they have a sign up
horses taken into grass, long tailsone dollar and fifty cents, short tails
one dollar. And it just meansthat the short tailed ones are taken cheaper

(03:08):
because they are so bothered by theflies that they can't eat much, while
the long tailed ones are able tobrush them away and eat in peace.
I read the other day of aBuffalo coal dealer's horse that was in such
an agony through flies that he committedsuicide. You know animals will do that.

(03:29):
I've read of horses and dogs drowningthemselves. This horse had been clipped
and its tail was docked, andhe was turned out to grays. The
flies stung him till he was nearlycrazy. He ran up to a picket
fence and sprang up on these sharpspikes. There he hung, making no
effort to get down. Some mensaw him, and they said it was

(03:53):
a clear case of suicide. Iwould like to have the power to take
every man who cuts off a horse'stail and tie his hands and turn him
out in a field in the hotsun, with little clothing on and plenty
of flies about. Then we wouldsee if he wouldn't sympathize with the poor
dumb beast. It's the most senselessthing in the world, this docking fashion.

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They've a few flimsy arguments about ahorse with a docked tail being stronger
backed, like a short tailed cheep, but I don't believe a word of
it. The horse was made strongenough to do the work he's got to
do, and man can't improve onhim. Docking is a cruel, wicked
thing. Now there's a ghost ofan argument in favor of check reins.

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On certain occasions, a fiery younghorse can't run away with an overdrawn check
and in speeding horses, a tightcheck rein will make them hold their heads
up and keep them from choking.But I don't believe in raising colts in
a way to make them fiery,and I wish there wasn't a racehorse on

(05:02):
the face of the earth. Soif it depends it on me, every
kind of check rein would go.It's a pity. We women can't vote,
to Laura, we do away witha good many abuses. Miss Laura
smiled, but it was a veryfaint, almost an unhappy smile, And

(05:23):
missus Wood said hastily, let ustalk about something else. Did you ever
hear that cows will give less milkon a dark day than on a bright
one? No? I never did, said Miss Laura. Well they do.
They are most sensitive animals. Onefinds out all manners of curious things

(05:45):
about animals if he makes a studyof them. Cows are wonderful creatures,
I think, and so grateful forgood usage that they return every scrap of
care given them with interest. Haveyou ever heard anything about de horning,
Laura? Not much, Auntie.Does Uncle approve of it? No,

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Indeed, he'd just as soon thinkof cutting their tails off as de horning
them. He says. He guessesthe creator knew how to make a cow
better than he does. Sometimes Itell John that his argument doesn't hold good.
For a man in some ways canimprove on nature. In the natural

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course of things, a cow wouldbe feeding her calf for half a year,
but we take it away from herand raise it as well as she
could, and get an extra quantityof milk from her. In addition,
I don't know what to think myselfabout d warning. Mister Wyndham's cattle are
all polled, and he has anopen space in his barn for them instead

(06:49):
of keeping them in stalls, andhe says they're more comfortable and not so
confined. I suppose in sending cattleto see it's necessary to take their horns
off, But when they're going tobe turned out to grass, it seems
like mutilating them. Our cows couldn'tkeep the dogs away from the sheep if

(07:10):
they didn't have their horns. Theirhorns are their means of defense. Do
your cattle stand in these stalls allwinter? Asked Miss Laura. Oh,
yes, except when they're turned outin the barnyard, and then John usually
has to send a man to keepthem moving or they take cold. Sometimes,

(07:30):
on very fine days they get outall day. You know, cows
are not like horses. John says, they're like great milk machines. You've
got to keep them quiet, onlyexercising enough to keep them in health.
If a cow is hurried or worried, or chilled or heated, it stops

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her milk yield and bad usage poisonsit. John says, you can't take
a step and strike a cow acrossthe back without her milk being that much
worse. And as for drinking themilk that comes from a cow that isn't
kept clean, you'd better throw itaway and drink water. When I was

(08:13):
in Chicago, my sister in lawkept complaining to her milkman about what she
called the cow wee smell to hermilk. It's the animal odor, ma'am,
he said, and it can't behelped. All milk smells like that.
It's dirt, I said, whenshe asked my opinion about it,

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I'll wager my best bonnet that thatman's cows are kept dirty, their skins
or plastered up with filth, andas the poison in them can't escape that
way, it's coming out through themilk, and you're helping dispose of it.
She was astonished to hear this,and she got her milkman's a dress

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and one day dropped in upon him. She said that his cows were standing
in a stable that was compared arativelyclean, but that their bodies were in
just the state that I described themliving in. She advised the man to
card and brush his cows every day, and said that he need bring her
no more milk. That shows youhow city people are imposed upon with regard

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to your milk. I should thinkyou'd be poisoned with the treatment your cows
receive. And even when your milkis examined, you can't tell whether it's
pure or not. In New Yorkthe law only requires thirteen percent of solids
and milk. That's absurd, foryou can feed a cow on swill and
still get fourteen percent of solids init. Oh, you city people are

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queer, Miss Laura laughed heartily.What a prejudice you have against large towns,
Auntie, Yes, I have said, miss Wood. Honestly, I
often wish we could break up afew of our cities and scatter the people
through the country. Look at allthe lovely farms all about here, some

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of them with only an old manand woman on them. The boys are
off to the cities, slaving instores and offices and growing pale and sickly.
It would have broken my heart ifHarry had taken to city ways.
I had a plain talk with youruncle when I married him, and said,
now my boy's only a baby,and I want him to be brought

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up so that he will love countrylife. How are we going to manage
it? Your uncle looked at mewith a sly twinkle in his eye and
said, I was a pretty fairspecimen of a country girl. Suppose we
brought up Harry the way I'd beenbrought up. I knew he was only
joking, yet I got quite excited. Yes, I said, do as

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my father and mother did. Havea farm about twice as large as you
can manage. Don't keep a highman, get up at daylight and slave
till dark. Never take a holiday. Have the girls do the housework,
and take care of the hens,and help pick the fruit, and make
the boys tint the colts and thecalves, and put all the money they

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make in the bank. Don't takeany papers, for they would waste their
time reading them. And it's toofar to go to the post office oftener
than once a week. And butI don't remember the rest of what I
said. Anyway, your uncle burstinto a roar of laughter. Hattie.
He said, my farm's too big. I'm going to sell some of it

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and enjoy myself a little more.That very week, he sold fifty acres,
and he hired an extra man andgot me a good girl, And
twice a week he left his workin the afternoon and took me for a
drive. Harry held the reins inhis tiny fingers, and John told him
that Dolly, the old mare wewere driving, should be called his,

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and the very next horse he boughtshould be called his two, and he
should name it and have it forhis own, and he would give him
five sheep, and he should havehis own bank book and keep his accounts.
And Harry understood, mere baby,though he was, and from that
day he loved John as his ownfather. If my father had had the

(12:24):
wisdom that John has, his boyswouldn't be the one a poor lawyer and
the other a poor doctor in twodifferent cities, and our farm wouldn't be
in the hands of strangers. Itmakes me sick to go there. I
think of my poor mother lying withher tired hands crossed out in the churchyard,
and the boys so far away,and my father always hurrying and driving

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us. I can tell you,Laura, the thing cuts both ways.
It isn't all the faults of theboys that they leave the country. Missus
Wood was silent for a little whileafter she made this long speech, and
missus Laura said nothing. I tooka turn or two up and down the

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stable, thinking of many things.No matter how happy human being seemed to
be, they always have something toworry them. I was sorry for missus
Wood, for her face had lostthe happy look it usually wore. However,
she soon forgot her trouble and said, now I must go and get

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the tea. This is Adele's afternoonout. I'll come too, said miss
Laura, for a promise, herade, make the biscuits for tea this
evening, and let you rest.They both sauntered slowly down the plank walk
to the house, and I followedthem. End of Chapter thirty one.

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Chapter thirty two. Our return homein October the most beautiful of all the
months we were obliged to go backto Fairport. Miss Laura could not bear
to leave the farm, and herface got very sorrowful when anyone spoke of

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her going away. Still, shehad gotten well and strong, and was
as brown as a berry, andshe said that she knew she ought to
go home and get back to herlessons. Mister Wood called October the golden
month. Everything was quiet and steeland at night and in the morning the

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sun had a yellow, misty look. The trees in the orchard were loaded
with fruit, and some of theleaves were floating down, making a soft
covering on the ground. In theguard there were a great many flowers in
bloom in flaming red and yellow colors. Miss Laura gathered bunches of them every

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day to put in the parlor.One day, when she was arranging them,
she said, regretfully, they willsoon be gone. I wish it
could always be summer. You wouldget tired of it, said mister Harry,
who had come up softly behind her. There's only one place where we

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could stand perpetual summer, and that'sin heaven. Do you suppose that it
will always be summer there? SaidMiss Laura, turning around and looking at
him. I don't know. Iimagine it will be, but I don't
think anybody knows much about it.We've got to wait. Miss Laura's eyes

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fell on me, Harry. Shesaid, do you think that dumb animals
will go to heaven? I shallhave to say again, I don't know,
he replied. Some people hold thatthey do in a Michigan paper.
The other day I came across onewriter's opinion on the subject. He says

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that among the best people of allages have been some who believed in the
future life of animals. Homer andthe later Greeks, and some of the
Romans and early Christians held this view, the last believing that God sent angels
in the shape of birds to comfortsufferers for the faith Saint Francis called the
birds and beasts his brothers. DoctorJohnson believed in a future life for animals,

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as also did Wordsworth, Shally coolRidge, Jeremy Taylor, Agasy Lamartine,
and many Christian scholars. It seemsas if they ought to have some
compensation for their terrible sufferings in thisworld, then to go to Heaven would
only have to take up the threadof their lives here. Man is a

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god to the lower creation. Joeworships you much as you worship your maker.
Dumb animals live in and for theirmasters. They hang on our words
and looks, and are dependent onus in almost every way. For my
own part, and looking at itfrom an earthly point of view, I
wish with all my heart that wemay find our dumb friends. In Paradise

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and in the Bible, said missA Laura, animals are often spoken of,
the dove and the raven, thewolf and the lamb and the leopard,
and the cattle that God says arehis, and the little sparrow that
can't fall to the ground without ourFather's knowing it. Still, there's nothing
definite about their immortality, said misterHeyery. However, we've got nothing to

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do with that. If it's rightfor them to be in heaven, we'll
find them there. All we haveto do now is to deal with the
present, and the Bible plainly tellsus that a righteous man regardeth the life
of his beast. I think Iwould be happier in heaven if dear old
Joe were there, said miss Laura, looking wistfully at me. He has

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been such a good dog. Justthink how he has loved and protected me.
I think I should be lonely withouthim. That reminds me of some
poetry, or rather doggerel, saidmister Harry that I cut out of a
newspaper for you yesterday, And hedrew from his pocket a little slip of

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paper and read this, do doggiesgoing to heaven, Dad will or old
Donald gang for new to take himfodder with us would be most awful rung.
There was a number of other versestelling how many kind things Old Donald

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the dog had done for his master'sfamily, and then it closed with these
lines, with our dogs a foddermantwould be an awful sin to leave.
Or faithful doggie there he's certain towin in Or Donald's no like other dogs,

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he'll no be luck it oot.If Donald's no let into heaven,
I'll know gong there one foot mysentiments exactly, said a merry voice behind
Miss Laura and mister Harry, andlooking up they saw mister Maxwelle. He

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was holding out one hand to themand in the other kept back a basket
of large pairs that mister Harry promptlytook from him and offered to Miss Laura.
I've been depending upon animals for themost part of my comfort in this
life, said mister Max Whale.And I shan't be happy without them in

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heaven. I don't see how youwould get on without Joe, Miss Morris,
and I want my birds and mysnake and my horse. How can
I live without them? They're almostall my life here. If some animals
go to heaven and not others,I think that the dog has the first
claim, said miss Laura. He'sthe friend of man, the oldest and

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the best. Have you ever heardthe legend about him and Adam? No,
said mister max Whale. Well,when Adam was turned out of paradise,
all the animals shunned him, andhe sat bitterly weeping with his head
between his hands. When he feltthe soft tongue of some creature gently touching

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him. He took his hands fromhis face, and there was a dog
that had separated himself from all theother animals, and he was trying to
comfort him. He became the chosenfriend and companion of Adam afterward, of
all men. There is another legend, said mister Harry, about our Savior

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and a dog. Have you everheard it? We'll tell you that later,
said mister Max Whale, When weknow what it is, mister Harry
showed his white teeth in an amusedsmile, and begin. Once upon a
time, our Lord was going througha town with his disciples. A dead

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dog lay by the wayside, andeveryone that passed along flung some offensive epithet
at him. Eastern dogs are notlike our dogs, and seemingly there was
nothing good about this loathsome creature.But as our Savior went by, he
said gently, pearls cannot equal thewhiteness of his teeth. What was the

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name of that old fellow, saidmister max Whale abruptly, who had a
beautiful swan that came every day forfifteen years to bury its head in his
bosom and feet from his hand,And who would go near no other human
being. Saint Hugh of Lincoln.We heard about him at the Band of

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Mercy the other day, said MissLaura. I should think that he would
have wanted to have that swan inheaven with him, said mister max Whale,
What a beautiful creature it must havebeen. Speaking about animals going to
heaven, I dare say some ofthem would object to going on account of

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the company that they would meet there. Think of the dog kicked to death
by his master, the horse driveninto his grave, the thousands of cattle
starved to death on the plains.Will they want to meet their owners in
heaven? According to my reckoning,their owners won't be there, said mister
Harry, I firmly believe that theLord will punish every man or woman who

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ill treats a dumb creature, justas surely as he will punish those who
ill treat their fellow creatures. Ifa man's life has been a long series
of cruelty to dumb animals, doyou suppose that he would enjoy himself in
heaven, which will be full ofkindness to everyone. Not he He'd rather
be in the other place, andthere he'll go. I fully believe when

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you've quite disposed of all your fellowcreatures and the dumb creation, Harry,
perhaps you will condescend to go outinto the orchard to see how your father
is getting on with picking the apples, said missus Wood, joining Miss Laura
and the other two men, hereyes twinkling and sparkling with amusement. The

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apples will keep mother, said misterHarry, putting his arm around her.
I just came in for a momentto get Laura. Come Maxwell, we'll
all go, and not another wordabout animals, missus Wood called after them.
Laura will go crazy someday through thinkingof their sufferings if someone doesn't do

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something to stop her. Miss Lauraturned around suddenly, dear aunt Hattie,
she said, you must not saythat I am a coward. I know
about hearing of animals pains, butI must get over it. I want
to know how they suffer. Iought to know, for when I get

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to be a woman, I amgoing to do all that I can to
help them. And I'll join you, said mister max Wail, stretching out
his hand to Miss Laura. Shedid not smile, but looking very earnestly
at him, she held it cliain her own. You will help me

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to care for them, will you? She said, yes, I promise,
he said gravely. I'll give myselfto the service of dumb animals if
you will. And I too,said mister Harry in his deep voice,
laying his hand across theirs. MissusWood stood looking at their three fresh,

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eager young faces, with tears inher eyes. Just as they all stood
silently for an instant, the oldvillage clergyman came into the room from the
hall. He must have heard whatthey said, for before he could move,
he had laid his hands on theirthree brown heads. Bless you,

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my children, he said, Godswill lift up the lights of his countenance
upon you, for you have givenyourselves to a noble work in serving dumb
creatures. You are a obling thehuman race. Then he sat down in
a chair and looked at them.He was a venerable old man and had

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long white hair, and the Woodsthought a great deal of him. He
had come to get missus Wood tomake some nourishing dishes for a sick woman
in the village. And while hewas talking to her, miss the Laura
and the two young men went outof the house. They hurried across the

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veranda and over the long talking andlaughing and enjoying themselves as only happy young
people can, and with not atrace of their seriousness of a few moments
before on their faces. They weregoing so fast that they ran right into
a flock of geese that were comingup the lane. They were driven by

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a little boy called Tommy, theson of one of mister Wood's farm laborers,
and they were chattering and gabbling andseemed very angry. What's all this
about, said mister Hairy, stoppingand looking at the bowie. Who's the
matter with your feathered charges? Tommy, My lad, if it's the geese

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you mean, said the boy,half crying and looking very much put out.
It's all them nasty potatoes. Theywon't keep away from them. So
the potatoes chase the geese, dothey said, mister Max wailed teasingly.
No, no, said the childpettishly, mister Wood, he sets me

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to watch the geese and then theyruns in among the buckwheat and the potatoes,
and I tries to drive them out, but they doesn't want to come,
and shamefacedly, I has to switchtheir feet, and I hate to
do it because I'm a band ofmercy. Boy Tommy my son, said

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mister Max Whale, solemnly, youwill go right to heaven when you die,
and your geese will go with you. Hush, hush, said miss
Laura, don't tease him, Andputting her arm on the dear child's shoulder,
she said, you are a goodboy, Tommy, not to want

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to hurt the geese. Let mesee your switch, dear. He showed
her a little stick he had inhis hand, and she said, I
don't think you could hurt them muchwith that. And if they will be
naughty and still the potatoes, youhave to drive them out. Take some

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of my pears and eat them,and you will forget your trouble. The
child took the fruit, and MissLaura and the two young men went on
their way, smiling and looking overtheir shoulders at Tommy, who stood in
the lane, deviraing his payers,and keeping one eye on the geese that
had gathered a little in front ofhim and were gabbling noisily and having a

(29:15):
kind of indignation meeting because they hadbeen driven out of the potato field.
Tommy's father and mother lived in alittle house down near the road. Mister
Wood never had his hired men livein his own house. He had two
small houses for them to live in, and they were required to keep them

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as neat as mister Wood's own housewas kept. He said he didn't see
why he should keep a boarding houseif he was a farmer, nor why
his wife should wear herself out waitingon strong, hardy men that had just
as soon take care of themselves.He wished to have his own family about

(30:02):
him, and it was better forhis men to have some kind of family
life for themselves. If one ofhis men was unmarried, he boarded with
the married one, but slept inhis own house. On this October day,
we found mister Wood hard at workunder the fruit trees. He had

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a good many different kind of apples, enormous red ones and long yellow ones
that they called peppins, and littlebrown ones, and smooth coated sweet ones,
and bright red ones, and othersmore than I could mention. Missus

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Laura often paired one and cut offlittle bits from me, for I always
wanted to eat whatever I saw hereating. Just a few days after these,
miss Laura and I returned to fairReport, and some of mister Wood's
apples traveled along with us, forhe sent a good many to the Boston

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market. Mister and Missus Wood cameto the station to see us off.
Mister Harry could not come, forhe had left Riverdale the day before to
go back to his college. MissusWood said that she would be very lonely
without her two young people, andshe kissed Missus Laura over and over again,

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and made her promise to come backagain in the next summer. I
was put in a box in theexpress car, and mister Wood told the
agent that if he knew what wasgood for him, he would speak to
me occasionally, for I was avery knowing dog, and if he didn't

(31:52):
treat me well, I'd be aptto write him up in the newspapers the
agent lad, and quite often onthe way to Fairport he came to my
box and spoke kindly to me.So I did not get so lonely and
frightened as I did on my wayto Riverdale. How glad the Morris's word

(32:16):
to see us coming back. Theboys had all gotten home before us,
and such a fuss they made overtheir sister. They loved her dearly and
never wanted her to be long awayfrom them. I was rubbed and stroked
and had to run about, offeringmy paw to everyone. Jim and Little

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Billy licked my face, and Bellacroaked out, glad to see you.
Joe had a good time, how'syour help? We soon settled down for
the winter. Miss Lotta begin goingto school and came home every day with
a pile of books under her arm. The summer in the country had done

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her so much good that her motheroften looked at her fondly and said,
the white faced child she sent awayhad come home a nut brown maid.
End of chapter thirty two.