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From Miss Helen Jelliffe to Miss Jane Van Zandt
Dearest Aunt Jennie:
I did try so hard to get you to come on this cruise with us. You said you preferred remaining in Newport to sharing in a wild journey to places one has never heard of, and now I am compelled to recognize your superior wisdom. I wish we had never heard of this dreadful hole. I am now reduced to the condition of a weepful Niobe, utterly helpless to contend against the sad trend of events. I know how much you disapprove of lingering, being such an active little body, and so I will tell you the worst at once. Poor dear Daddy has just broken his leg, and, of all places, in the most forsaken hole and corner of this dreary island of Newfoundland.
Daddy has always boasted of his perseverance in the pursuit of the unusual in sport. This time he found it with a vengeance. Our mate, who hails from these parts, once told him of this place, and implied that the salmon in the little river running down into this cove would take a fly whether awake or asleep, and jostled one another for the privilege. While Daddy is rather fond of a gun, you and I know that there are only two weapons he is really absorbed in. I suppose that the first is the instrument he uses to cut off coupons with, and the next is his salmon rod, which I would like to break into little pieces, for it has been the cause of turning our long bowsprit towards this horrid jumble of rock and sea. I considered that we were lucky to have found our way into Sweetapple Cove without any particular disaster, but of course such luck could not last long.
We ought never to have come any way, for our skipper, the descendant of Vikings, had implied that our schooner was in need of all sorts of repairs, and that sensible people did not start off on long cruises just after months in Florida which had converted the ship's bottom into a sort of vegetable garden. Daddy consoled him by telling him he could leave us there and go off to St. John's to the dry-dock.
You know how pleasantly Daddy speaks to people, and how they detect under his words a firmness which effectively prevents long discussion. Stefansson is really a racing skipper, but he likes his berth on the Snowbird and said nothing more. We reached this place where, for lack of level ground, the few houses use all sorts of stilts and crutches, and invaded the village to the intense amazement of the populace and its dogs.
Then came Daddy's genius for organization. Within two hours we had rented a little house for next to nothing a week, furnished it in sixty minutes with odds and ends from the yacht, including our little brass bedsteads, which the people here firmly believe to be pure gold, A wild daughter of the Cove, a descendant of the family that gave it its extraordinary name, was engaged as a general servant. Daddy's valet and the cook had wept when they saw the place, and Father informed them that they were rubbish and might go back with the Snowbird, which presently sailed off for the scraping it appears to be entitled to.
Daddy at once selected a rod with all the care such affairs of state require, and set forth across the cove with two natives, in a dory. They went ashore on the banks of the little river and began to clamber over a terrific jumble of rocks. A salmon was caught so quickly that Father grew boyish with enthusiasm and capered over more rocks.
And then came the accident, Aunt Jennie, and I am still shaky, and tearful, and though I try to write like a normal human being I am desirous of shrieking. There was just a slip and a fall, and a foot caught between two boulders. Poor Daddy was dragged from the swift water into which he had been wading and placed in the bottom of the dory, a most damp and smelly ambulance.
Of course I dashed down to the shore as soon as people came to tell me what had happened, and naturally I got into everybody's way. It was strange to see how these very rough-looking men took hold of poor Daddy. They were just as gentle as could be, and made an arrangement of fish-carrying barrows upon which they lifted him up and brought him to the house.
I was weeping all this time and Daddy consoled me by telling me not to be a fool. Susie, our new handmaiden, simply howled. We were bundled out, chiefly by Daddy's language, and clamored for a doctor. It actually transpired that there was one in the place, to my infinite relief. The fact that he was gone to a little island away out at sea appeared to be but an insignificant detail. An ancient mariner whom Coleridge must have been acquainted with promised to go and bring him back. If the weather did not turn out too badly he would return in three or four hours. He informed me that it was beginning to look very nasty outside. It always does, in such cases, I believe.
I spent the afternoon trying to do all I could for Daddy, and occasionally climbed up on the cliff nearly adjoining our house, to watch for the boat. An abominable fog began to come up, rolling before a dreadful wind, and I moistened more handkerchiefs, since it was perfectly evident to me that no small boat would ever return to land in such a blow. Susie told me that I must not despair, and that people did really manage to work fishing boats in such weather, sometimes. I considered her to be a cheerful prevaricator, and told her she didn't know what she was talking about. At this she curtsied humbly and assented with the "Yis, ma'am" of the lowly, and all I could do was to keep on despairing.
It was really the most dismal afternoon I ever spent, and when it began to get dark I gave up all hope. After I had become thoroughly saturated with misery Susie came to me, grinning.
"I's heerd men a comin'," she told me. "Like as not it's th' doctor."
I dashed out of the front door and met two dreadful looking creatures in oilskins. As one of them was the ancient mariner I made up my mind he had failed in his mission. But the other stared at me for an instant, quietly stepped on the few planks we call the porch, and began to shed his outer skin, which fell with a flop.
"Are you the doctor?" I finally asked him.
He bowed, very civilly, followed me into the house, and the other man placidly sat down on the porch, while the slanting rain rattled on his armour. I need hardly tell you that these people are as amphibious as manatees.
Once within doors I scrutinized the doctor. He was a rather nice tall chap with hair showing slightly the dearth of barbers in Sweetapple Cove, a fact Daddy had informed himself of, for I had seen him looking disconsolately at a safety razor. This man was also rather badly unshaven, and a blue flannel shirt with a sodden string of a necktie formed part of his apparel. I have seen healthy longshoremen rather more neatly garbed. I'm afraid that at first I was badly disappointed.
I stood at the door of father's room, which is also the parlor and dining room, hesitating foolishly. At last I asked the man to come in.
"Daddy dear, here is the doctor," I said.
You know that father does not consider himself merely as a tax-payer, and a connoisseur in split bamboos. He prides himself upon his knowledge of men and, before trusting himself to this one, had to study him carefully. I could see that he was taken a little by surprise.
"Er—er," he hesitated, "are you a physician, sir?"
"Appearances are deceptive in these jumping-off places," answered the young man. "I possess a diploma or two, and such knowledge as I have is entirely at your service."
He didn't really seem to be at all embarrassed. His look was rather a pleasant one, after all, and suddenly I became inspired with confidence. I think Daddy was impressed in the same way.
"I'm in an awful fix," he announced. "I am quite sure that my leg is broken, and of course it requires the very best attention. I can afford to take no chances with it and need a first-class man. Are you quite sure … ?"
The doctor sat down by the
