CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

A Month’s Vacation

Review finished, exams began.  Adam faced them with greater confidence this term.  He knew what to expect and had, with occasional lapses of moon-eyed lovesickness, applied himself to his studies.  Some natural nervousness remained, but he was certain he’d pass.  That certainty relaxed him enough to do well on touchier subjects, like those endless rivers and mountains he regurgitated for the geography exam.

College activities seemed designed to take the students’ minds off the pressure of their exams.  Wednesday of that week, the Brothers in Unity again called for elections of new officers, which changed five times each year.  Adam would have dearly loved to be elected president, not for the prestige or the responsibility, but for the exemption from the next term’s society tax.  Though only two dollars, he and Jamie were on such a tight budget that any opportunity to cut expenses was welcomed.  As always, however, that top office went to a senior, Charles Sumner this time, and since no man could hold the same office twice, Adam relinquished his brief jurisdiction as a selector of debate topics.

The following day the entire college took a vacation from concern over their marks to attend the Junior Exhibition.  The New York Seventh Regiment Band was in attendance in the afternoon session, and their performances between the orations, poems and dissertations presented by those juniors who had placed highest after their just completed exams were highlights for Adam with his love of music.  From the opening rendition of the William Tell Overture to the closing Potpourri by Flotow, he soaked in melody and harmony like a thirsty man gulps water from an isolated pool in the desert.  He reminded himself that it was only back home that such opportunities were isolated pools; here in the East a man could drink in culture . . . well, as often as his pocketbook allowed, Adam admitted ruefully.  The same format was followed for the evening performance, although that one was better attended than the earlier one.

“I want to place high in the class,” Jamie admitted to Adam as they strolled home after the Finale by Verdi, “but I don’t know if I could bear speaking to that many people.”

Adam laughed.  “Since fully two-thirds of the class was named as speakers tonight, I assure you that you’ll be on that platform!”  He rested a reassuring hand on Jamie’s slight shoulder.  “Don’t worry; by the time we’re juniors, I’m sure it will be second nature.”

“From speaking in the societies, you mean?” Jamie shrugged.  “I haven’t done an oration yet, you may have noticed, just that one debate.”

“You’re too quiet, too self-effacing,” Adam chided, “so people overlook you.  Your time’s coming, and then there’ll be no hiding your talents under the proverbial bushel.”

“You are prejudiced, sir,” Jamie laughingly charged.

Adam threw an arm around his friend.  “Of course, I am!  But truth will out, as our dear friend Shakespeare said.”

“In that case, what will ‘out’ is my abject fear of the whole process!”

Adam twisted his chum’s cap sideways and ordered Jamie to wear it like that until he starting spouting sense.  The desired transformation took about thirty seconds.

* * * * *

            As soon as exams ended, Adam gathered up his best architectural drawings and made his way again to the office of Louis Bail.  Telling himself that the teacher could only say no did nothing to shrink the size of the lump in his throat as he lifted his hand to knock on the door.

“Come in,” called Bail.

Squaring his shoulders, Adam entered.

Bail’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, but then he smiled.  “Ah, yes, Mr. Cartwright.  I should have known.”  He jutted his chin toward the portfolio in Adam’s hand.  “You’ve brought me some drawings?”

“As you said I should,” Adam reminded him.

“Yes,” the teacher said, taking the portfolio and opening it.  He looked at each drawing in turn, a slight smile curving his lips when he saw how many there were.  “You’ve been busy.”

Adam interlaced his fingers to still their nervous movement.  “I wanted to demonstrate that I could keep up with your assignments in addition to my regular studies.”

Bail chuckled.  “And how have you done with them?”

“Quite well, I believe,” Adam said, “although I haven’t seen my second term marks yet, of course.”

“Of course,” the drawing instructor said as he continued to study Adam’s sketches of buildings around New Haven.  “These show a marked improvement,” he observed.

“I’ve been sending them to Mr. Bracebridge,” Adam explained. “He sends them back with suggestions for improvement.  These are corrected copies, which I have yet to return to him.”

“And you still feel you need my help, as well?” Bail asked with a twinkle in his eye.

“Oh, yes, definitely, sir,” Adam declared.

The teacher closed the portfolio and sat back in his chair.  “Good.  I agree.  As a matter of fact, Mr. Cartwright, I have already discussed your request with the rest of the faculty.”

Adam leaned forward excitedly.  “What did they say?”

Bail laughed.  “My, you are the eager one, aren’t you?”  Seeing Adam flush, he quickly added, “Nothing to be ashamed of, my boy.  Quite the quality we look for in students.  Now, I have seen your second term marks, and I can assure you that you stand near the top of your class, and you have, of course, matriculated now, so we can be a little lenient, I think.”  He opened his desk drawer and drew out a sheet of paper.  “The course covers topographical and isometrical, as well as architectural drawing, and while those would be useful, you cannot take the full series of lectures without entirely missing one of your other classes.  Therefore, I recommend that you meet with me only once each week, for the architectural lecture.”  He handed the paper to Adam.  “That is a list of the times I will be covering that subject.  Pick the one that coincides with the class you can best afford to miss, and if that professor approves, I will accept you as a special student.  You’ll get no credit for this course, you understand?”

“Just the knowledge,” Adam said with a smile.  “That’s what I want, sir.”

Bail stood and shook the young man’s hand.  “Run along, then, and see if you can obtain the necessary permission.”

Adam thanked him and left, pondering as he walked back to George Street exactly which class he could most easily skip once a week.  Mathematics was his best subject, but according to the catalog, they’d be studying spherics this term.  Since he had no clear idea what that was, skipping that class was probably not a good idea.  He smiled to himself.  Really, there was only one choice.  Tutors, it seemed to him, always took themselves more seriously than the established professors, so either Wilder Smith or George Nolen was more likely to say no than Old Had.  He had proven himself to the Greek professor and, therefore, thought that the unusual request might be entertained.  No time like the present to find out, he concluded, so when he reached the Green, he turned toward the college yard.

* * * * *

            Jamie was stuffing in the last shirt his carpetbag could possibly hold when the door opened.  “There you are,” he said with relief.  “Did it take this long to convince Mr. Bail to let you sit in on his class?”

“No,” Adam said, pulling off his coat.  “He agreed quite quickly.  Old Had took a little longer.”

Jamie sent a puzzled look Adam’s way.  “Old Had?  What does he have to do with architectural drawing?”

“Not a thing,” Adam laughed.  Then he explained the conditions Louis Bail had laid down for admittance to the class.  “I’ll be depending on your thorough notes for each Friday’s Greek recitation,” he added.

“Of course,” Jamie said, “though you’d probably pass, even without them.”  With effort he closed his carpetbag.  “There!” he declared.  “Packed, with time to spare.”  He shook his head at Adam.  “While you, sir, are being uncharacteristically tardy.”

Adam perched on the bed.  “I suppose that’s because I still don’t feel right about going with you.”

Jamie sighed.  “Adam, we’ve talked it all out . . .  repeatedly.”

Adam shrugged.  “I know, but your father hasn’t had that much time to build up his assets, so I’m sure having me visit for four weeks will be a strain.”

Jamie chuckled.  “I hope you weren’t expecting gourmet fare.  It’s more likely bread and cheese we’ll be having . . .  perhaps, sausage on Sundays.”

Adam grinned.  “A veritable feast, then.  I trust your father will let me add something to the coffer, however.  After all, I’d be responsible for my own meals if I stayed here over vacation.”

“Well, I, for one, will certainly allow you to provide our travel supplies, if you have need to express your extreme gratitude for the invitation,” Jamie teased.  “Now, get your bag packed,” he ordered, “and if you’ll hurry, perhaps we can catch Candy Sam and take some of his fine divinity to Springfield.”

“That’s a great idea!” Adam declared, suddenly inspired to finish his packing as quickly as possible.  A good supply of divinity would not only sweeten the train ride north, but would make an excellent gift of appreciation for Josiah Edwards.

* * * * *

            “About twenty minutes to departure,” Adam observed as he and Jamie sat down in the depot’s waiting room after purchasing their tickets.  “Do you want to eat now or on the train?”

“On the train,” Jamie said.  “We’ve been rushing around so to get these provisions that I’d like to let my stomach just sit quietly for a while before I ask it to work!”

Adam laughed.  “We weren’t that rushed.”   Not only had they found Candy Sam easily and purchased a shareable supply of divinity, but they’d had time to stop by Bradley’s on State St. to pick up some sausage, cheese and crackers for a cheap supper.

Fifteen minutes had passed when Adam heard his name urgently called.  He bolted from his seat as a flurry of skirts rushed up to him.  “Oh, Adam, how could you think of leaving without saying goodbye?” the girl chided.

“Elizabeth!”  Adam folded the girl into his arms.  “I—I told you I’d be pushed for time this morning.  That’s why we said our goodbyes on Sunday.”

“Well, I couldn’t let you leave for a whole month without a proper farewell, could I?” Elizabeth asked demurely.

Adam smiled wistfully.  “It is a long time, isn’t it?  I’ll miss you.”

A pout curled her lips downward.  “I don’t believe a word of it.”

“I’ve never known Adam to lie,” Jamie put in, amused by the way the couple seemed to have forgotten him.

“What?” Elizabeth blinked at him.  “Oh . . . of course not.  I was only . . .”

“Teasing for a kiss?” Adam suggested.

“Certainly not,” she declared airily.

“A pity,” he whispered daringly, “as I was disposed to give one.”

“Not in a public depot,” she said decidedly.  Then she sighed.  “But I will miss you, Adam, so please hurry back.”

“Our third term begins May seventh,” he said.  “We’ll be back the day before.”

Outside, a whistle blew, signaling the arrival of the train.  Jamie gathered as much of both his and Adam’s belongings as he could and boarded the New Haven, Hartford and Springfield Railroad, while Adam grabbed his carpetbag in one hand and circled Elizabeth’s waist with his other arm.

“Write me,” she urged as they moved across the platform.

“I will,” Adam promised.  He pecked her cheek and jumped aboard, remaining on the landing until her waving hand was out of sight.  Then he entered the car and found his seat next to his friend.

“Well, if you’re through spooning,” Jamie declared, “I believe that my stomach has settled enough to entertain a bite of sausage.”

“Only one?” Adam teased as he dug into the bag containing their trip provisions.  He sliced off a sizable hunk and handed it over.

“Definitely, if it’s this size!” Jamie joked back.

They crossed the Quinnipiac River and began winding through the salt meadows that stretched on the right. Through pleasant villages and the larger manufacturing center of Meriden, the train rolled until it reached Hartford in about an hour and a half.  As they approached the depot, the Capitol stood out on a hill to their right.  The train stopped here briefly, and the two college students got out to stretch their legs.  “Wish we had time to explore,” Adam commented.

Jamie shook his head.  “We won’t reach Springfield until after dark as it is.”

Adam yawned.  “We definitely won’t be exploring that tonight!”

Jamie chuckled.  “Amazing how a few exams can exhaust a man.”

Adam shook his head.  “I think it has more to do with the rhythmic rattling of the train along the track.  Definitely soporific.   Speaking of which, we’d better get back on board . . . lest they rattle off without us!”

They fortified themselves for the final hour of their journey with cheese and crackers and indulged in a single piece of divinity each for dessert.  As predicted, night had fallen by the time they arrived at the depot in Springfield, where Jamie’s father was waiting to greet them.  After giving each of them a warm, welcoming hug, Josiah said, “I’m afraid I won’t have time to do more than show you to our lodgings tonight.  The foreman at the Armory said I might come in late tonight, but I don’t want to impose on his kindness beyond what I must.”  Gesturing toward the exit, he led them out onto the street.

Walking at his father’s side, Jamie sighed.  “Oh, Father, I wish you wouldn’t work two jobs.”

Josiah caught him by the scruff of the neck.  “How else am I supposed to support my collegiate son in the lavish style to which he has become accustomed.”

“Oh, Father!” Jamie cried in protest.

“Now, now, my boy, I wouldn’t have it any other way,” his father said.  “What else do I have to do here in a city where I know no one but my primary-age students?  The Armory needs experienced workers, with a war going on, so why not put in a few hours there each week?  I’m only working there part time, after all, and I’m sure Adam sees the sense of it if you do not.”  He looked to his son’s friend for support.

Adam waved one hand before his face.  “Leave me out of this,” he ordered briskly.  “I can see both sides of the argument, and I care too much about both of you to choose between you . . . except to protest that remark about our lavish lifestyle at Yale!”

Josiah laughed.  “Only teasing.  I’ve had opportunity to see how the two of you scrimp and save, sometimes to your detriment.  It won’t be any different here, I’m afraid, but I hope that I’ll be able to ease your way a bit next term.”

“We’ll see nothing of you,” Jamie moped.

“Not as much as I’d like,” his father admitted, “but we’ll be together for breakfast and supper and all day on Sundays.”

“Is there anything to amuse ourselves with during these long days without you?” Adam asked lightly.

“Oh, Springfield has a few attractions,” Josiah said, “but you may find that rest and quiet are more what you need.”

“Right!” Adam declared.  “I plan to sleep the day away tomorrow.”

Stopping in front of a modest two-story house, Josiah laughed.  “I doubt you’ll find the accommodations comfortable enough to encourage that.”  He led them up the steps to the front entrance and through the door to a central hallway.  Though the house had obviously been, at one time, a single-family home, a door on each side of the hall indicated that it was now divided into two lodgings on the first floor, and Adam presumed the same was true upstairs.

Josiah unlocked the compartment on the right, and Adam and Jamie followed him in.  “Just a moment, and I’ll get the light,” the older man said.  The soft glow of a kerosene lantern soon revealed a small room, furnished only with the table on which the lantern sat and a padded armchair with obviously worn upholstery.  “As I warned you,” Josiah said with a rueful smile, “quite Spartan accommodations.”

“As long as there’s a bed,” Adam chuckled.

Josiah grimaced.  “There is—one, precisely.  You boys will sleep there; I’ll take the chair here.”

“Absolutely not!” Adam protested.  “A man holding down two jobs needs his sleep.  I’ll take the chair.”

“No, I will,” Jamie insisted.  “I’m shorter than either of you.”

“You’re not that short,” Adam snorted.  “None of us is.”

“’Now, now, no quarreling,” Josiah scolded.  “I don’t have time to argue the point now, so the two of you take advantage of the bed while I’m at work, and I’ll roust one of you out when I get back.  Deal?”

Adam and Jamie exchanged questioning glances and then Adam shrugged.  “Deal . . . as long as it’s me.”

“Whichever one wakes more easily,” Josiah said with a grin and then waved them toward the next room.  “Come on.  I have just enough time to show you ‘the manor.’”

“Ah, Adam, you didn’t know that I was to the manor born, did you?” Jamie teased with a haughty snoot of his nose.

“About as much as I am!” Adam chortled back.

“The manor,” they soon learned, consisted of three rooms, one behind the other.  From the front room, they passed through the kitchen, which held a small coal-burning stove on the outside wall.  A rickety wooden table held a stack of three plates, three bowls and three cups and saucers, with three sets of cutlery resting in a wicker basket.  “Three of everything, including chairs,” Josiah pointed out with evident pride.  The chairs were mismatched, but looked sturdy enough.

“You’ve thought of everything,” Adam said with awkward gratitude.  In every purchase he could see the evidence of personal privation and sacrifice and realized that one-third of those purchases would have been unnecessary but for him.

“I know it’s not what you’re used to,” Josiah said, “but I’ve managed the best I

could in three months, and I hope to be better situated by the time your third term ends.”

“Please don’t apologize,” Adam urged painfully.  “I slept on the ground all the way to Nevada.  This is heaven, compared to that.”  To his relief, the others laughed.

“It’s just part of the Spartan training,” Jamie insisted.  “Father means to inure us to hard times so we’ll be prepared for any battle life sends us.”

“Always the teacher,” Adam added to the jibe.

“Oh, how I’ve missed students like you boys!” Josiah laughed as he directed them into the next room.  “Now, by Eastern standards, of course, it’s not desirable to have the sleeping quarters on the first floor—which helps keep the rent on this apartment low—but we uncouth westerners are quite inured, as my son phrases it, to such trifling discomfort as having neighbors able to peep into one’s bedroom.

“Ah, but you’ve solved that,” Adam declared, pointing with flourish at the burlap bags that had been tacked over the windows in lieu of curtains.  The room held only an iron bedstead and two crates, one in which the teacher’s clothes lay folded and a longer one at the foot of the bed that appeared to hold sheets and blankets.

“Well, that’s the grand tour,” Josiah said. “I know it seems extravagant to take more than a single room for a bachelor like me, but I wanted more for the summer, when Jamie is with me, and I was lucky to find this for so reasonable a rent.  With so many men brought in for the Armory now, there’s a shortage of housing.”  He consulted his pocket watch.  “I’m afraid I have to leave you now.”  They moved back through the apartment to see him off, and just before he left, Josiah pointed at the carpetbags Adam and Jamie had dropped just inside the door.  “Those had better not contain textbooks,” he announced.  “This is to be a true vacation.”

“No textbooks,” Adam promised, “but I did bring my sketchbook, in case there’s some interesting architecture around.”

“I think you’ll find a number of places.  City Hall would make a good subject,” Josiah suggested.  “I’ll give you directions in the morning.”

Adam thanked him, and then goodbyes were said, all around.

“Oh, Adam,” Jamie sighed, slumping against the door as soon as his father was safely out of earshot.  “I can’t bear what he’s enduring for me.”

“How do you think I feel?” Adam asked.  “I’m not even his son!”

“Almost,” Jamie said.  He closed his eyes as if that would shut out the pain he felt.  “I should leave school.”

“You certainly should not!” Adam declared forcefully.  “You’ll kill him if you do that.”

Jamie opened his eyes and stared at his friend.  “You don’t understand.  You’ve never—”

“Of course, I have,” Adam interrupted harshly.  “I was tiny the first time I saw my father go without food so I could eat, and I’ve seen him sacrifice for me dozens of times since. Though he wouldn’t admit it, I’m sure he’s sacrificing some things, even now, so I can be back here.”

Jamie nodded.  “1 wasn’t thinking.  I’m sorry, Adam.”

“And I’m sorry for snapping,” Adam apologized.  “Look, Jamie, it’s what fathers do . . . sacrifice for their children.  I don’t take it for granted, but I have come to understand it as what makes them happiest, and I’ve come to feel that the best way I can repay Pa for all he’s given up for me is to accept the gift gratefully and be willing to sacrifice for him—or my brothers—when it’s my turn to give.”

Jamie smiled.  “Are you certain you plan to be an architect . . . and not a philosopher?”

Adam laughed.  “Absolutely certain.”  He yawned.  “I know it’s early, but I’m exhausted, so I think I will forego the pleasure of exploring the vast reaches of the Manor and fall into the decadent luxury of that mattress.”

“I doubt there’s much luxury to it,” Jamie chuckled, “but I believe I’ll join you.  Oh, and I plan to be the easiest to wake when Father comes in.”

“We’ll see about that,” Adam returned with a cheeky grin as he picked up his carpetbag and carried it toward the bedroom.

* * * * *

            Adam stirred slowly, yawning and stretching his arms to the ceiling.  The armchair was comfortable, but offered no support for his long legs.  Still, he’d slept fairly well, and it wasn’t discomfort that woke him, at least he didn’t think so.  Then his nose picked up an aroma coming from the next room, and when he concentrated, he could hear someone moving around in the kitchen.  He got up and padded that way in his bare feet.  “Good morning,” he said.

Josiah turned from the stove.  “Good morning, Adam,” he said, keeping his voice low.  Then with a shake of his head, he asked, “Where are your slippers, young man?”

“In there.”  Grinning, Adam pointed toward the bedroom.  “In my carpetbag.”

“Well, go in and get them,” Josiah said.  “Jamie needs to get up, anyway, unless he prefers cold oatmeal.”

“I doubt that!” Adam chuckled as he headed into the next room.  After he roused his friend, they both dressed quickly against the chill of the rooms and returned to find their simple breakfast on the table.  “Nothing like a hearty dish of oatmeal on a cold morning,” Josiah said cheerfully.

Suspecting that the cereal formed the man’s regular morning meal, Adam answered with equal—and, he suspected, equally forced—cheer, “Just the thing.  I hope we’ll have it every day.”

“An old favorite,” Jamie declared.  “Like mornings back in dear St. Joe.”  He didn’t mention that, “back in dear St. Joe,” the oatmeal was occasionally accompanied by sausage and eggs.  Here, it came only with toast and coffee, but both boys dug in with enthusiasm.

As they ate, Josiah gave them directions to City Hall.  “The library is there,” he added, “and if you’d like to check out some books, you should do that today.  It’s only open three days a week, and this is one of them.”  With a saucy wink, he added, “Nothing serious, remember?  I hope you’ll spend a good bit of time outdoors, weather permitting, but it’s a good library—over six thousand volumes.  If you find something you’d like, let Jamie sign for them.”  He grinned at his son.  “Just write ‘J. Edwards.’”

Jamie returned the conspiratorial grin, knowing that the “J.” could stand for either Josiah or James, and the son could access the father’s lending privileges.

Josiah quickly sliced bread and cheese and made a sandwich for himself.  “Lunch,” he explained as he wrapped it.  “I generally eat at my desk.  There is a bit of beef in the cupboard, as well, if you’d prefer that for your meal, and I’ll bring home a container of soup and some fresh bread for us all for supper.”

He started to clear the table, but Jamie quickly forestalled that.  “We’ll get the dishes.”

“I’d appreciate that,” his father responded.  He tucked his sandwich into his coat pocket and gave his son a quick hug.  “Have a good day, my boy.  You, too, Adam.”

“And you, sir,” Adam replied.

“Work I love and you two to come home to—what more could I ask?” the older man said, beaming.  With a wave of his hand, he headed out the door.

“Do you want to sketch City Hall this morning?” Jamie asked.  “I’m sure I won’t be able to browse all six thousand volumes at the library in the time it takes you,” he added with a chuckle, “stickler for detail, though you are.”

“Let’s do that this afternoon,” Adam suggested.  “I have another project in mind for this morning.”

“Oh?”

“Surely, it didn’t escape your notice that your father is lunching on cheese, while leaving that ‘bit of beef’ for us?”

Jamie sighed.  “Of course, I noticed, but I didn’t think it would do any good to argue.”

“Not a bit,” Adam agreed, “but we are going to make some changes around the Manor, starting this morning.  If I’d stayed in New Haven, I’d have had the expense of eating in restaurants for every meal, and I have no intention of being a sponge on your father’s kindness here.  I told you I wanted to contribute to the coffer, and I think the best way to do that is simply to purchase some provisions this morning.  Your father may protest, but the deed will be done.”

Jamie grinned.  “It’s easier to obtain forgiveness than permission, you mean?”

“Always,” Adam laughed.  “You’re in agreement, then?”

“Yes,” Jamie replied, “so while I do up these dishes, why don’t you explore the supplies on hand?  Then we’ll decide what we need and find a grocery somewhere.  I’m sure the neighbors can direct us, if nothing else.”

The cupboard wasn’t quite bare, as Josiah had prepared for his guests to the best of his ability, but there was ample room for improvement, both boys felt.  While Adam finalized their list of desired supplies, Jamie walked across the hall, introduced himself to the lady of that household and asked her advice on the most economical place to purchase good quality foodstuffs.  Flattered to have her opinion sought, the good woman went on at length, quoting prices and comparing locations where each item could be purchased until Jamie felt as though he were again preparing for term exams.  In fact, memorizing all the rivers, mountains and capitals of the ancient world began to seem like an exercise for lisping toddlers, compared with knowing what each grocer charged for onions, sausage, suet and potatoes.  He finally managed to convince the woman that he’d taken enough of her valuable time and escaped with all the information he could possibly need and a new respect for the occupation of housewife.

“Did you propose?” Adam snorted when his friend finally returned.

“Propose?” a perplexed Jamie asked.

Adam gave him a saucy grin.  “Well, I suppose you haven’t had time to form that close an attachment, but I must presume that the neighboring household contains at least one female of the appropriate age and beauty to distract you this long.”

“She’s older than Father,” Jamie protested, laughing as he added, “and considerably more talkative.”

“Than a teacher?” Adam shook his head.  “That’s hard to believe.”

“Are you ready or not?” Jamie scolded.

“Ready,” Adam replied, “and if we don’t get going, we’ll be hard put to finish in time to visit the library later.”

They made their way from store to store, and Adam’s experience at the old Cartwright-Thomas trading post came in handy, as he instinctively sensed which shopkeepers had priced their goods too high, but would be open to persuasive dickering.  Arms laden, they returned to the Manor at noon, put the things away and prepared some simple sandwiches for themselves.  Adam insisted that they contain both meat and cheese, despite Jamie’s inclination to eat exactly what Josiah had allowed himself.  “We’ll insist that he take a better lunch tomorrow,” Adam promised, “and we’ll volunteer to prepare supper, so he won’t have to waste time or money buying something on the way home.”

“I can’t cook,” Jamie protested.

Adam laughed.  “I can.  Only simple things, of course, but I used to cook for Hoss when Pa was away from the cabin.”

“Oh, just for Hoss?”  Jamie clucked his tongue, shaking his head chidingly.

“Well, sometimes it seemed that way,” Adam chuckled.  “It really is cheaper to cook at home, so that will help convince your father that these extra purchases are actually a sensible investment.”

“And if we can win that debate,” Jamie declared, “Junior Exhibition should hold no further terrors for me.”

“That’s the attitude!” Adam praised.

As soon as they finished eating, Adam took his sketch pad, and he and Jamie headed toward City Hall.  “I’m going on into the library,” Jamie said.  “Will you be in later or should I select something for you?”

“Do that,” Adam said.  “I trust your taste, and if I don’t finish in time to come in myself, I’ll be provided for.”

While Jamie climbed the steps to the imposing three-arched entrance, Adam found a spot beneath a towering elm across from City Hall and began to sketch the building.  The windows, he noted, were also arch-shaped, and he wondered if that defined a particular type of architecture.  Mr. Bracebridge often included such information in the notes he sent back with comments on Adam’s drawings.  Adam shaded the brick portion of the building, while leaving the trim white, to represent the sandstone of its construction, and took special pains at sketching the tall bell tower on one side of the building, to him its most interesting feature.

When he’d completed everything except the landscape surrounding City Hall, which he thought he could add from memory, Adam closed his sketch pad and went inside through the center arch.  He found Jamie in the rooms on the first floor that housed the library and approved of the book selected for him.  They looked around a little more and then returned to their lodgings, where Adam filled a pot with beans to soak overnight.  Then he drew a chair into the front room, insisting that Jamie take the more comfortable armchair, but promising to use the latter himself the next day.  “We’ll use it turn-about,” he said, and Jamie agreed that that seemed the fairest plan.  They spent the remainder of the afternoon engrossed in their new books, until Josiah returned, pail of soup in hand.

“What’s this?” he asked as soon as he spotted the bean pot.

“Tomorrow’s supper,” Adam said and explained their plan to prepare the evening meals. “We’ve little enough to do, so it’s no burden,” he assured his host, “and it’s good economic sense.”

Josiah nodded.  “I can’t argue with that . . . and I thank you for the offer.”  As soon as he spotted more new supplies on the counter, however, he shook his head in dismay.  “Oh, Adam, you shouldn’t have.”

“It was both of us,” Adam said.

Josiah snorted in disdain.  “With your money.  I know that because I didn’t leave Jamie any, but he should have reined you in.”

Adam gave him a wry grin.  “I’ve never been broken to harness, so if it’s blame you’re passing out, then it’s all mine.”

“No, I’ll bear my fair share,” Jamie insisted.

“That you will!” his father decreed.

“Shouldn’t we eat this fine soup before it gets cold?” Adam asked with diplomacy.

“Yes, by all means, sit and eat,” Josiah said.  He fixed both boys with a stern eye.  “But don’t think I’ll be distracted from this discussion!”  As the boys sat at the table, Adam having returned the chair from the front room, Josiah portioned the soup equally into the bowls and sat down to eat.  About half the soup, along with a slice of bread, had been consumed when he returned to the discussion.  “I didn’t ask you here to support me, Adam,” he chided.

“And I didn’t come for a free ride,” Adam said just as firmly.  “Josiah, Jamie and I have one rule at our lodgings in New Haven: share and share alike.  I see no reason whatsoever that the same rule shouldn’t apply here.”

Josiah stared at him a long time and then slowly said, “All right.  I can’t argue with your logic, so I’ll give in gracefully and only ask that you not squander your funds on needless luxury.  I’m used to living simply.”

Too simply, Adam thought, but he knew when to keep his mouth shut.  “Don’t worry,” he assured his former teacher.  “I’m well acquainted with stretching dollars and pinching pennies, as you should remember from our days in St. Joseph.”

Josiah laughed then.  “You weren’t the one pinching them then.  That was primarily Inger’s talent at work.”

Adam smiled wistfully at the memory of the first mother he’d ever known.  “Yes, but I watched carefully . . . and learned.”

Josiah nodded.  “Always the student.  All right, my boy, we’ll put you in charge of household expenses while you’re here.  Make them go as far as you can.”

When they finished the soup, Adam brought out the divinity he and Jamie had purchased from Candy Sam for dessert.  “If this is how you pinch pennies,” Josiah chuckled, “we’ll be bankrupt in a week.”

“It was an extravagance,” Adam admitted, “one we don’t indulge in often.”

“Every man should . . . occasionally,” Josiah agreed, “especially when it tastes this good!”

As they drooled over the candy, Jamie mentioned that he’d seen Springfield Museum of Natural History engraved on a door at City Hall, though he hadn’t been able to investigate since the door had been locked.

“It’s open to the public Saturday afternoons and evenings,” Josiah told him.  “Just two rooms, but you might find it interesting.”

“We’ll plan on that, then,” Adam said.  “I wish you could go with us, sir.”

Josiah shook his head.  “I’m working then, but if you’d like, we could visit Armory Hill together on Sunday.”  Both boys eagerly agreed.

* * * * *

            They stayed close to home the next day, so Adam could keep an eye on the beans.   He kept them simmering all day long while they enjoyed their library books, primarily in the shade of a wide-spreading maple outside their door.  Since he and Jamie would be visiting the museum in the afternoon, he selected a simpler supper for Saturday, and Josiah declared, on both nights, that they were the finest meals he had consumed since he’d been in Springfield.  “That doesn’t say much for the skill of cooks in Springfield,” Adam had joked in response.

The trip to the museum had been interesting, although it hadn’t taken long to peruse the two rooms at City Hall allotted for it.  The library at Yale probably housed more and rarer exhibits.  Still, with two hundred fifty species of birds and nine hundred of seashells featured, as well as lesser amounts of reptiles, quadrupeds, minerals and Indian antiquities, there was plenty to occupy a pleasant afternoon, and both Jamie and Adam agreed that they’d like to visit it again before their vacation ended.

The sky was overcast as Adam and his friends walked to church Sunday morning, but by the time they exited after the service, the sun was shining in its glory.  They’d brought a picnic lunch with them, so they walked straight from church to Armory Hill, the highest point in the city and enjoyed the panorama while eating their meat-and-cheese sandwiches and munching cookies picked up at a local bakery the day before.

Taking them, by special permission, into areas from which the public was generally excluded, Josiah led them on a tour of the Arsenal itself.  Jamie commented that the stacks of standing rifles, one above another, almost gave the appearance of a pipe organ. Adam nodded, although the idea seemed overly poetic to him.  There was a military rigidity about the place that seemed alien to music, but he admitted with an inner smile that music, at least some forms of it, resounded with militaristic flavor.  As they walked through the Arsenal, he couldn’t help feeling as if his every move were being scrutinized.  It probably was, he conceded.  You didn’t just let people roam around unwatched with this many tempting firearms at arm’s reach.  Adam himself could barely resist the urge to pick one up and test its balance, and he could only dream of one day owning a rifle as worthy as one of these.  If he hadn’t been raised with Ben Cartwright’s values, he might well have grabbed one and run, given the chance.  They ended with a climb up to the tower for an even better view of the city of Springfield.

The remainder of the boys’ vacation fell into a quiet and restful routine. While Josiah prepared breakfast each morning, Jamie put together a sandwich for his father’s lunch, as well as one each for himself and Adam; and Adam planned the evening meal, determining whether any extra items, such as fresh meat or produce, needed to be purchased that day.  After Josiah left, the two boys quickly washed up the breakfast dishes and put the rooms to rights and then set out on whatever adventure they’d chosen for the day.  It might be a visit to a local park, taking their sandwiches with them, or a trip to the library, if they needed new books, or just a brisk jaunt along the quiet streets of Springfield, where the trees and gardens budded with signs of spring.

After lunch, Jamie often remained at the Manor, reading, or took on the responsibility of doing the shopping, while Adam spent almost every afternoon sketching some attractive public building or residence.  He returned early enough to cook whatever he’d selected for supper, while Jamie assisted and tried to learn all he could.   He, regretfully, wouldn’t have Adam’s help that summer, and he wanted to be able to provide for his father with equal satisfaction, having been thoroughly convinced that Adam’s management and cooking skills had, as promised, produced meals that were both better and more economical than those at any local boardinghouse or restaurant.  The final week of their stay in Springfield, Adam had Jamie take over the responsibilities of cooking, while he assisted and offered help whenever needed.  By the end of the week, he told Jamie that he had now matriculated as a cook and was well prepared for his summer duties.