Free Alcott, Louisa May - SSC 11 by Glimpses of Louisa (v2.1) Page B

the plate from upsetting, and to
feed the hungry urchins who stood in a row with open mouths, like young birds,
was past my comprehension. But he did, trotting baby gently, dealing out sweet
morsels patiently, and whistling to himself, as if to beguile his labors
cheerfully.
                            
The broad back, the long legs, the faded coat, the low whistle were all
familiar; and, dodging a wet sheet, I faced the man to find it was indeed my
Joe! A mere shadow of his former self, after months of suffering that had
crippled him for life, but brave and patient still; trying to help himself, and
not ask aid though brought so low.
                            
For an instant I could not speak to him, and, encumbered with baby, dish,
spoon, and children, he could only stare at me with a sudden brightening of the
altered face that made it full of welcome before a word was uttered.
                            
"They told me you were dead, and I only heard of you by accident, not
knowing I should find my old friend alive, but not well, I'm afraid?"
                            
"There ain't much left of me but bones and pain, ma'am. I'm powerful glad
to see you all the same. Dust off a chair, Patsey, and let the lady set down.
You go in the corner, and take turns lickin' the dish, while I see
company," said Joe, disbanding his small troop, and shouldering the baby
as if presenting arms in honor of his guest.
                            
"Why didn't you let me know how sick you were? And how came they to think
you dead?" I asked, as he festooned the wet linen out of the way, and
prepared to enjoy himself as best he could.
                            
"I did send once, when things was at the wust; but you hadn't got back,
and then somehow I thought I was goin' to be mustered out for good, and so
wouldn't trouble nobody. But my orders ain't come yet, and I am doing the fust thing that come along. It ain't much, but the good soul
stood by me, and I ain't ashamed to pay my debts this way, sence I can't do it
in no other;" and Joe cradled the chubby baby in his one arm as tenderly
as if it had been his own, though little Biddy was not an inviting infant.
                            
"That is very beautiful and right, Joe, and I honor you for it; but you
were not meant to tend babies, so sing your last lullabies, and be ready to go
to the Home as soon as I can get you there."
                             "Really, ma'am? I used to lay and kind of dream about it when I couldn't stir without yellin' out; but I
never thought it would ever come to happen. I see a piece in the paper
describing it, and it sounded dreadful nice. Shouldn't wonder
if I found some of my mates there. They were a good lot, and deservin' of
all that could be done for 'em," said Joe, trotting the baby briskly, as
if the prospect excited him, as well it might, for the change from that damp
nursery to the comfortable quarters prepared for him would be like going from
Purgatory to Paradise .
                            
"I don't wonder you don't get well living in such a place, Joe. You should
have gone home to Woolwich, and let your friends help you," I said,
feeling provoked with him for hiding himself.
                            
"No, ma'am!" he answered, with a look I never shall forget, it was so full of mingled patience, pride, and pain.
"I haven't a relation in the world but a couple of poor old aunts, and
they couldn't do anything for me. As for asking help of folks I used to know, I
couldn't do it; and if you think I'd go to Lucindy, though she is wal off, you
don't know Joe Collins. I'd die fust ! If she was poor
and I rich, I'd do for her like a brother; but I couldn't ask no favors of her,
not if I begged my vittles in the street, or starved.
I forgive, but I don't