the poet’s corner

the little pine house had only two rooms, one a small bed-room, the other serving as kitchen, dining-room and living-room. as there was no furnace and a wood fire would afford insufficient heat, an old-fashioned stove extended its stove pipe up the fireplace chimney.

this stove, packed tight with small chunks of wood, was now red hot and on top a kettle was pouring forth a thin stream of steam.

allan drain kneeled down.

“you’ll allow me to take off your snowshoes so you can be more comfortable? i envy you your skill in being able to manage them as i have been struggling for several weeks without success. please don’t mind the small amount of snow you have brought into the room. i am not a particular housekeeper.”

gill glanced about the room.

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“i am not so sure. it seems to me you have arranged your room in a satisfactory and at the same time a picturesque fashion.”

“oh, my belongings are few and simple after the grandeur of your cabin. i only brought a bed and a table and a chair and some books along with me. since, i have been lucky enough to get hold of a few possessions left behind in the north woods by fellows who once were in pretty much the same fix i am. i have made the rest of the furniture myself from the wood i bought at a lumber camp not far off. see that book shelf to the left of the mantle; it was given me by a backwoods preacher, an old man who says it once belonged to robert louis stevenson. you know stevenson spent a winter in the adirondacks for his health, don’t you? he and my old woodsman, who was a young fellow then, became friends.”

gill nodded, but not so impressed as her companion had expected and hoped.

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“yes, i heard mrs. burton and bettina graham talking of the famous men and women who have lived in the adirondack forests. besides stevenson there was a ‘philosopher’s camp’ with emerson and james russell lowell and professor agassiz as members. perhaps they may be an inspiration to you, but i cannot say i feel any deep interest. i told you i was not in the least literary and that i cared for the outdoors and not for books.”

whether or not she intended this, there was a slightly contemptuous note in the girl’s voice.

her companion, having removed her snowshoes, rose quickly with his face slightly flushed.

“you’ll have a cup of tea with me. the water is boiling so i can have it ready in a few minutes. it will warm you after your walk.”

as gill nodded acquiescence, quickly and deftly as a girl allan drain set about his preparations.

his tea service consisted of a brown earthenware teapot, two cups and saucers, a cheap little pitcher and a silver sugar bowl of rare beauty, evidently an heirloom.

he had placed on the table a pot of gooseberry jam and now undertook to make the toast by opening his stove door and toasting the bread at the end of a long fork.

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offering no assistance, gill sat watching, glancing sometimes at her host and as often at his surroundings.

truly he had revealed ingenuity and taste in his arrangements, in spite of the scarcity and poverty of his furnishings. in the first place, the room was clean, the floor swept, the books and furniture dusted. on the walls were several unframed sketches and photographs made by amateur artists, pictures of the north woods in summer or autumn beauty. fastened alongside were the skins of a raccoon and a beaver; on the floor, although somewhat the worse for wear, a large bearskin rug. there were two chairs and a table of crude but not ugly workmanship. gill discovered herself enthroned in the solitary chair her host had brought with him for his lonely winter in the forest.

“i should think you would have preferred to be at a hotel or a hospital for the winter if you are not well,” she volunteered a few moments later when her host had placed her chair in front of one of his tables where his little feast was spread.

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in spite of the fact that she was enjoying her tea, gill found conversation difficult with an individual whose tastes and point of view were so unlike her own.

“i should think you would be desperately lonely here; you see it is different with us, there are so many of us and we are accustomed to being together.”

as allan drain lifted the teapot his long, slender hand shook slightly.

“why, yes, i am often lonely,” he agreed. “it would be absurd for me to deny it. i live in this fashion rather than in a hotel or boarding house because it is much cheaper. my people have no money to spare and the uncle who has been paying for my education as a surgeon is annoyed at my break-down. he declares that if i were less antagonistic to my work i would never have gone to pieces. in fact, he thinks i am enjoying myself living alone in the woods with an opportunity to write poetry and dream, which is all he believes i care for, and he is not so far from right. i know you will have a contempt for me, but i tried my best to make up my mind to do what you managed to accomplish in a few seconds, relieve a little animal from pain. if i had not the nerve or the courage to be of help to an animal, what do you think of my chance of being of service to human beings?”

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“i don’t think you will be of any use at all,” gill answered abruptly, and then it was her turn to flush, not because it troubled her that she may have wounded her companion, but because she had been uncomfortably conscious of the abruptness and awkwardness of her manner ever since her interview with mrs. graham. this was only a fresh instance of her lack of poise and tact, which seemed so conspicuous in mrs. graham and bettina and which she so admired.

in spite of his courtesy and kindness at the present time, gill was still convinced that she did not like allan drain and could never like him under any circumstances. the antagonism of their first meeting was only asleep and might wake again at any moment. surely he must like her even less and with better reason. this afternoon he was only returning the hospitality he had received from other members of her own camp fire group.

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when her host arose to replenish the fire gill studied him closely. she was again positive that she did not care for his appearance. the yellow hair bronzed by the sun until it was nearly the color of a lion’s mane was worn too long, the figure was too slender and without sufficient force, the broad shoulders stooped. yet perhaps he was not so effeminate in appearance as she originally had thought; the effect was rather due to delicacy.

selfishly gill uttered an inward breath of thankfulness, grateful for her own perfect health. never had she felt more vigorous than to-day. already she was growing tired of the little room and her host and anxious to return home.

“well, i am sure you must find a great deal to keep you busy. thank you for asking me to see your house. i must say good-by now and hurry back to the cabin. i am afraid it is growing late.”

insisting on adjusting her own snowshoes, gill stood at the door of the cabin with her back to the wall, smiling her farewell.

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if her opinion of allan drain had not altered, his impression of her had slightly changed. this afternoon he did not so much dislike her half boyish appearance, the bobbed hair of a bright auburn color, the short nose and wide mouth with the white, firm teeth.

“i am sorry to have you go. i would walk back with you to tahawus cabin with pleasure, but as i cannot manage my snowshoes without half a dozen headers i should only bore and delay you. mrs. graham and mrs. burton have been good enough to say i may come and share in your christmas festivities. you are expecting many guests, aren’t you? the time is not far off and i shall try to keep so busy with my writing that the days will fly until then.”

“do you mean that you are re-writing the verses that were lost at our cabin? i suppose they will be all the better for the added work,” gill said hastily and in a tone of relief.

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“oh, no, not the poor old verses over again!” her companion returned. “i haven’t the courage, besides the fates must have known they were of no value and spared me the task of making away with them. i know it is ridiculous of me, but actually i am attempting to write a play. mrs. burton suggested the idea when we were talking together, although she is unaware of the fact. i know it will amount to nothing, so please keep my secret. i don’t know why i should have mentioned it to you, except that i have not seen another human being for two days. well, good-by if you must go, and thank you for your visit. my best wishes to tahawus cabin.”