In a very brief space of time the whole structure, with my summer crop of hay, gathered with so much labor, sunk down into glowing, hissing embers. I was glad to have the ordeal over, and to be relieved from fear that the wind would rise again. Now I was assured of the extent of our loss, as well as of its certainty.
“Well, well,” said the warmhearted and impulsive Rollins, “when you are ready to build again, your neighbors will give you a lift. By converting Bagley into a decent fellow, you’ve made all our barns safer, and we owe you a good turn. He was worse than lightning.”
I expressed my thanks, adding, “This isn’t as bad as you think; I’m insured.”
“Well, now, that’s sensible,” said Mr. Jones. “I’ll sleep better for that fact, and so will you, Robert Durham. You’ll make a go of it here yet.”
“I’m not in the least discouraged,” I answered; “far worse things might have happened. I’ve noticed in my paper that a good many barns have been struck this summer, so my experience is not unusual. The only thing to do is to meet such things patiently and make the best of them. As long as the family is safe and well, outside matters can be remedied. Thank you, Bagley,” I continued, addressing him, as he now led forward the horse. “You had your wits about you. Old Bay will have to stand under the shed tonight.”
“Well, Mr. Durham, the harness is still on him, all ’cept the headstall; and he’s quiet now.”
“Yes,” I replied, “in our haste we didn’t throw off the harness before the shower, and it has turned out very well.”
“Tell ye what it is, neighbors,” said practical Mr. Jones; “ ’tisn’t too late for Mr. Durham to sow a big lot of fodder corn, and that’s about as good as hay. We’ll turn to and help him get some in.”
This was agreed to heartily, and one after another they wrung my hand and departed, Bagley jogging in a companionable way down the road with Rollins, whose chickens he had stolen, but had already paid for.
I looked after them and thought: “Thank Heaven I have not lost my barn as some thought I might at one time! As Rollins suggested, I’d rather take my chances with the lightning than with a vicious neighbor. Bagley acted the part of a good friend tonight.”
Then, seeing that we could do nothing more, Merton and I entered the house.
I clapped the boy on the shoulder as I said: “You acted like a man in the emergency, and I’m proud of you. The bringing out a young fellow strong is almost worth the cost of a barn.”
My wife came and put her arm around my neck and said:
“You bear up bravely, Robert, but I fear you are discouraged at heart. To think of such a loss, just as we were getting started!” and there were tears in her eyes.
“Yes,” I replied, “it will be a heavy loss for us, and a great inconvenience, but it might have been so much worse! All sit down and I’ll tell you something. You see my training in business led me to think of the importance of insurance, and to know the best companies. As soon as the property became yours, Winifred, I insured the buildings for nearly all they were worth. The hay and the things in the barn at the time will prove a total loss; but it is a loss that we can stand and make good largely before winter. I tell you honestly that we have no reason to be discouraged. We shall soon have a better barn than the one lost; for, by good planning, a better one can be built for the money that I shall receive. So we will thank God that we are all safe ourselves, and go quietly to sleep.”
With the passing of the storm, the children had become quiet, and soon we lost in slumber all thought of danger and loss.
In the morning the absence of the barn made a great gap in our familiar outlook, and brought many and serious thoughts; but with the light came renewed hopefulness. All the scene was flooded with glorious sunlight, and only the blackened ruins made the frightful storm of the previous evening seem possible. Nearly all the chickens came at Winnie’s call, looking draggled and forlorn indeed, but practically unharmed, and ready to resume their wonted cheerfulness after an hour in the sunshine. We fitted up for them the old coop in the orchard, and a part of the ancient and dilapidated barn which was to have been used for cornstalks only. The drenching rain had saved this and the adjoining shed from destruction, and now in our great emergency they proved useful indeed.
The trees around the site of the barn were blackened, and their foliage was burned to a crisp. Within the stone foundations the smoke from the still smouldering debris rose sluggishly.
I turned away from it all, saying: “Let us worry no more over that spilled milk. Fortunately the greater part of our crates and baskets were under the shed. Take the children, Merton, and pick over the raspberry patches carefully once more, while I go to work in the garden. That has been helped rather than injured by the storm, and, if we will take care of it, will give us plenty of food for winter. Work there will revive my spirits.”
The ground was too wet for the use of the hoe, but there was plenty of weeding to be done, while I answered the questions of neighbors who came to offer their sympathy. I also looked around to see what could be sold, feeling the need of securing every dollar possible. I found much that was hopeful and promising. The lima bean vines had covered the poles, and toward their base the pods were filling out. The ears on our early corn
