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CHAPTER XI. THE DISPOSAL OF THE PARCEL.

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in that little word “ah!” were expressed hope, relief, eagerness, and gratitude. the name was that of a well-known financier; one who had the power of dispensing good or ill to hundreds of other men. it could not forebode ill to the master of this insignificant home, since he was no debtor to it; therefore it must denote some blessing. a situation, the chance to earn a living for these precious ones whom his failure and his honesty had impoverished. for the first time, at the relief of this fancy, tears leaped to the bright, clear eyes of this new joseph smith, and unconsciously, it seemed, he clasped his wife’s thin waist with his strong arm.

“cheer for us, kitty, girl. doubtless this other joseph smith needs an accountant and[151] has heard of my skill that way. i was an expert, sir, before i went into business for myself and failed, attempting a commercial line i did not understand,” explained the man, yet losing his own courage as the explanation went on. he had boasted thus of his reputation the better to comfort his wife, but he read no encouragement in the countenance of mr. wakeman, which grew more forbidding each instant.

“do not mistake, mr. smith. my errand is not of the sort which you appear to expect. my employer—i am myself an expert accountant, and the only one necessary to our business—my employer does not know of my present visit. some days ago he entrusted a private bit of detective work to me, and i have now, i think, brought it to a finish. why, however, may i ask, did you not reply to our advertisement?”

“i have seen none. this,” waving his hand around the bare apartment, “is hardly the place where the luxury of newspapers may be looked for. what was the advertisement, if you please?”

[152]mr. wakeman explained. explained, added, itemized, and diffused himself all over the argument, so to speak, while the faces of his audience grew more and more tense and disturbed. at length he finished:

“that is the way it stands, sir, you see. your brother john consigned this child to my employer, through a mistake in the address. simply that. now an old gentleman and—feeble, i may say”— oh! if uncle joe could have heard him! “a feeble old man is not the one to be burdened with other folks’ relations. when i go back to town, now, i’ll be able to report that the missing uncle of this waif has been found at last, and that—shall i say when you will call to reclaim her?”

father and mother looked into each other’s eyes, one questioning the other, and reading in each but the same answer. then said joseph smith, rightful uncle of our josephine:

“spare yourself the trouble, mr. wakeman. my brother’s child is our child, as dear and near. alas, that i can offer her no better shelter! but it is a safe one and will be more[153] comfortable. i shall soon get a situation; i must soon get one. it is impossible that skill shall go forever unrecognized. in any case the little josephine must come home to us. eh, kitty, girl?”

she answered him valiantly, seeing through his unusual boastfulness, who was commonly so modest of his own attainments, and smiling back upon him with the same undaunted courage he brought to their changed life. it was taking bread from her own children’s mouths to do what now she did, yet her step never faltered as she walked across to the little cupboard and took from some hidden nook, known only to herself, their last quarter dollar. this she gave to her husband, saying cheerily:

“if you go at once, joe, you may be home again in time for dinner. i’d like to be prompt with it for i’ve secured a dress to make for a woman in the neighborhood and can begin it to-night. besides, i’m all impatience to see this little josephine. think of it, dear, the child who was named for you.[154] how little we dreamed she was right here in our own baltimore all this time. go, dear, at once.”

with something like a groan the man caught the brave little creature in his arms, and was not ashamed to kiss her then and there before this staring stranger who had brought them this news. ill or good, which would it prove? then he put on his hat and went directly away.

mr. wakeman followed more slowly. he did not feel as much elated over his success as an amateur detective as he fancied he should feel. he was thinking of many things. suppose this fellow, who was so down on his luck, this other unknown, insignificant joseph smith, should happen to take the fancy of the great joseph smith, of whom the world of business stood in such awe, and that magnate should happen to employ him on certain little matters of his own? suppose those inquiries were directed toward his, mr. wakeman’s, own accounts, what would follow? who could tell? hmm! yes, indeed. to prevent any such “happenings” that might prove unpleasant, it[155] would be as well to make a little detour around by the office, even though it was after office hours and business all done for that day. in any case the new-found uncle joe, the real article, was now en route for 1000 bismarck avenue, and it wouldn’t take two to tell the same story. mr. wakeman hoped the story would be told, and that child which had caused him so much trouble well out of the way before he again met his master. then would be quite time enough to look for a reward, such as was due from a multi-millionaire to his trusted and effective man of affairs.

pondering thus, mr. wakeman rode back to town in a livery hack, while the impecunious uncle of the little californian rode thither in a democratic street car. the faster the car sped the more impatient the improvident young man became. he wondered if his twin’s little daughter could be half as pretty and interesting as his own small people. he was glad he had never once written john or helen anything about his business troubles. they supposed him to be doing uncommonly well and living[156] in comfort, if not in luxury. well, if this young josephine were of the same good stock as her father a little poverty and privation in her youth wouldn’t hurt her; and where, search the wide world over, could any child find a sweeter, better foster-mother than his own kitty?

when he arrived at bismarck avenue, things were already happening there which were out of the ordinary, to say the least. among the day’s mail had come several letters to one miss desire parkinson smith, care of mr. joseph smith. these letters had been handed to the master along with his own, and had caused him surprise amounting almost to consternation.

“desire parkinson! desire parkinson! and smith! the combination is remarkable, if nothing more, peter,” he exclaimed.

“yes, suh, massa joe. yes, suh,” returned the also startled negro.

“do you see these letters?” asked the master.

“yes, sir,” said the butler.

[157]“notice the superscription. ever been any others with the same?”

“yes, suh, heaps. most all of them comes to miss kimono. though some is just plain miss smith.”

“hmm! hmm! this is—this is—disturbing,” admitted mr. smith.

uncle joe dropped into deep thought and sat so long in profound quiet that josephine, playing on the carpet near by, folded her hands and watched him anxiously. she had grown to love his stern old face, that was never stern to her, with all the fervor of her affectionate heart; and presently she could not refrain from tiptoeing to him and laying her soft fingers tentatively upon his arm. he looked up at her, smiled, and murmured, more to himself than to her:

“strange, strange. i’ve noticed something, a familiar trick of manner, something unforgotten from boyhood, aunt sophronia— little josephine, where is your—your nurse?”

“in the sitting-room with mrs. merriman,[158] uncle joe. shall i call her?” she answered.

“if you will, dear. i’d like to speak with her a moment,” said he.

the ladies were deep in the intricacies of a new lace pattern, and though miss kimono rose obediently to the summons josephine delivered, mrs. merriman for once forgot the requirements of etiquette and followed without invitation. but mr. smith was now too excited to notice this, and so it happened that one of the old gentlewoman’s wishes was gratified without anybody’s connivance. “may i be there to see,” she had said, and here she was.

“miss smith, what is your christian name?” demanded the master of the house.

“desire parkinson, mr. smith,” glancing toward the letters lying on his table, replied the nurse. they flung their brief remarks at each other, as though they were tossing balls, thus:

he: “that is an uncommon name, miss—smith.”

she: “as uncommon, i suppose, as our mutual surname is common.”

[159]he: “were you named for anybody in especial?”

she: “for a very dear lady in especial. for my mother’s twin sister.”

he: “she was a parkinson?”

she: “she was a parkinson.”

he: “she married a smith?”

she: “she married a smith, of virginia. so did my mother another smith, of another state. the world is full of them, mr. smith. we shall never be lonely because of a dearth of our patronymic.” the lady was smiling in great amusement, and, it is possible, the amusement was tinctured by a spice of malice.

he: “what was your mother’s christian name, if i may ask?”

she: “surely you may ask, and i will answer to the best of my ability. her name was sophronia.”

he: “then you and i are—are”—

she: “bear up, mr. smith, we are first cousins.”

he: “you—you knew this before?”

she: “i’ve known it ever since our branch[160] of the family began fighting you to recover their portion of the old family estates in—virginia!”

the excitement of the moment, so long anticipated by her and undreamed of by him, was tinging her cheeks with a little color which made her, for the time being, nearly as handsome as he was and that brought out with distinctness a strong family likeness. this resemblance was swiftly detected by little josephine, who caught a hand of each exclaiming:

“why, you’re just the same as one another, my darling kimono and my precious uncle joe! we’re all folks together? we’re all the same smith folks together!”

upon this tableau the portières parted, and the dignified voice of peter obtruded the announcement:

“mr. joseph smith.”

utter silence for an instant, then josephine dropped the hands she was clasping and bounded toward the newcomer, almost screaming her delight:

“papa! papa! papa!”

[161]“my little joe! john’s one baby daughter! my precious little namesake!”

the mislaid uncle had been found! that truth was evident in the spontaneous recognition of him, by his likeness so strong to his twin, that even the daughter had confounded the pair. a moment later, though, the child had perceived her own mistake and was regarding him more shyly, from the safe refuge of the old uncle joe’s knee, which had long since learned to adjust itself to the convenience of small maidens.

something prompted mrs. merriman and miss kimono to withdraw from a scene they dreaded might be painful, and they thoughtfully took josephine away with them. they knew, far better than she, how wonderfully she had grown into the lonely heart of the aged millionaire, whose money was so powerless to buy for him what this other, younger joseph was so rich in. it were kinder and wiser to leave the two uncles alone, and face to face to adjust their complicated affairs as best they might.

[162]nobody need have feared, though. when folk are honest-minded, and love a common object, such as little josephine, matters are soon arranged. in half an hour the conference was over, and the child ran back into the library to find the two uncle joes standing before its window and looking across the pretty square—where the crocuses were peeping through the tender grass and no sign of snow remained—toward a small house on its sunny northeastern corner.

the child slipped in between the two and caught a hand of both, while for an instant each diverted his gaze to her sweet face and smiled upon her. then began again the deep, well-beloved tones of the old uncle joe:

“there, joseph, that’s the house. it’s empty. i bought it on a speculation, and fitted it up well. it’s completely furnished, and so nicely i wouldn’t let it to every tenant who’s applied. that will go with the position, in addition to the salary. i’ve been dissatisfied with mr. wakeman this long time. he’s too officious, too grasping, too eager. i’m thankful[163] he found you, and will pay him well for it. but that ends his service to me. i’ll give him an advance of wages and shake him. you can enter upon your duties—to-morrow, if you like. i’ll send out a van or two to move in your effects.”

the new uncle joe held up his hand.

“unnecessary, dear mr. smith. our effects could easily be brought in on a pushcart;” yet saying this the man’s smile was neither less bright nor more ashamed. why should he be ashamed? he had gone down in one battle with the world, but he was up again and ready for another.

the answer, somehow, pleased the elder man. he liked simplicity, and he liked frankness. josephine’s new uncle possessed both these, with an added cheerfulness which communicated itself to all who met him. he was, or had been, as ready to take his brother’s charge upon his hands in his penury as he now seemed to be in his suddenly acquired prosperity.

looking across the square at the home offered[164] him, his eye kindled and his cheek glowed. his figure that had stooped somewhat from the wasted strength due insufficient food became erect, and his whole bearing assumed a military poise that was so fondly familiar to the little californian.

“oh, my, uncle joe! my dear, sweet, new uncle joe! you’re more and more like my papa all the time. if you had on his gray, bright-buttony soldier clothes, and his lovely red sash, you would be a regular company f—er! wouldn’t you? i wish mamma was here, and papa and doctor mack and funny big bridget!”

“so they all shall be some day, josephine. but first you’ll have to get acquainted with tom, dick, harry, and penelope, and the sweetest aunt kitty that ever the sun shone on,” he answered heartily.

josephine’s brown eyes opened in astonishment, and she said, with a deprecating look at the old uncle joe:

“i’d like to, if you’d like me to, but he—this one—he’d not like me to. he said, he[165] told michael, that lovely red-headed michael, that i couldn’t hob-nob—whatever that is—with any tom, dick, or harry who was in the square. didn’t you, uncle joe?”

it pleased the old gentleman that she still retained her familiar name for him, and he lifted her tenderly to his breast, replying:

“yes, little lassie, i did; but that was before i knew these were real children who were coming to live in my house yonder. such boys as are brought up by this gentleman, and your own cousins—why, of course, it’s different.”

from her safe place within the first uncle’s arms, she questioned the younger man:

“have you got all those to your house, uncle joe?”

“yes, little girl. will you come and live with them when we all move to that pretty house on the corner?” he responded.

her arm went around her first friend’s neck, and he now didn’t fret in the least because it rumpled his fresh linen, as she cuddled her cheek against his, and asked:

[166]“who’ll live here with you in this big house, first uncle joe?”

“oh, i suppose my colored ‘boys’ only; as before you came,” was his low-toned answer.

“nobody else?” she continued, in tones equally low.

he sighed: “who else could, lassie?”

“why, me! he’s got so many, and it’s only across the square. and red kimono, who’s your own cousin, you know. shall we?”

“if you will, darling,” answered the old man, with moistened eyes.

“then when papa and mamma come back from that far off red-pickley country maybe they’d be glad to stay, too. can’t ’lectrickellers find places to earn money in this baltimore, uncle joe?”

“be sure that your uncle joe and i will find your electrician a fine place, little one; and we’ll call red kimono by her real name, cousin desire, because she was my mother’s twin sister’s child; and we’ll send for big[167] bridget to wait upon this real tom, dick, and harry combination of youngsters; and—anything you like!” he answered, so gleefully that even peter scarcely recognized him.

“will you? will you? oh, i love you—i love you! i love you both, both. but isn’t it the twiniest kind of world ever was! papa and uncle joe are twins; and your mamma and red kimono’s mamma were twins; and tom and dick are twins; and big bridget’s folks are twins; and—oh, oh, there’s my darling, red-headed michael going by! i must call him in, i truly must! won’t he be the gladdest boy ever lived, to know all about my new cousins that i never saw coming to live and play with us in the square? he hasn’t any child to his house and you haven’t any child but me to yours, uncle joe; and the line-fence is down; so nothing’s to hinder michael and me making another pair of twins, is there?”

nobody prevented the child’s movement to bring in her first child-friend in that strange city to which she had come, and presently[168] entered the jolly lad, flushed and breathless and a trifle unkempt, as was his habit, but with such a manly bearing and such a world of good-fellowship beaming from his freckled face, that the new uncle joe instantly rejoiced in the prospect of such a comrade for his own small lads.

“good afternoon, mr. smith and—mr. smith; and is it all just as she says?” demanded the small gentleman from virginia. “has the little ‘express parcel’ really found her right uncle at last? ’cause it’s just like a ’rabian night’s story, seems to me, and girls—well, girls, you know, they—they’re sometimes silly, ’cept josephine, maybe.” then, as if a sudden fear attacked him he turned upon her, firmly admonishing her to remember: “if i’m to be your twin, as you say, you’ve got to have no nonsense in it. if i say ‘go in’ when there’s a lot of boys out in the square you’ll have to mind, ’cause they don’t always act polite, you see. oh, bother! it’s all boys, anyway, isn’t it! i wish there was another girl, to even up”—

[169]“why, michael merriman!” cried josephine, interrupting her playmate’s long speech. “there is another girl! you forget—how could you forget—penelope!”

at which the new uncle joe threw back his handsome head and laughed as he had not laughed in many a day; for in fancy he could see miss penelope, aged seven months, helping “cousin josephine” to maintain the dignity of their mutual girlhood, as against a square full of rollicking lads.

presently everybody was laughing, for happiness is delightfully infectious, and always even more “catching” than the measles. grandma merriman and cousin desire, who had come quietly into the room; the three black “boys” in the hall outside; the two uncle joes and michael; and most heartily, most musically of all, the little san diegan, who for very joy could not keep still, but went skipping and flying about the room, like a bewilderingly lovely butterfly, demanding between whiles of the person nearest:

“oh, isn’t it beautiful, beautiful? aren’t[170] you glad i was a wrong ‘parcel,’ and came to this wrong, splendid, old uncle joe?”

“i am,” answered that gentleman, with sweet solemnity; “since your coming has showed me how to deal justly, and love mercy, and find happiness in my barren wealth. god bless you, little ‘parcel’!”

“amen, and amen!” echoed the other uncle joe, as he went softly and swiftly out, to carry the good news to those whom he loved.

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