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Page 8
And there, above all, was Tom Longman. Tom was a big, hulking fellow,
good-natured and simple-hearted in the extreme. He was the victim of an
intense susceptibility to the girls' charms, joined with an intolerable
shyness and self-consciousness when in their presence. From this
consuming embarrassment he would seek relief by working like a horse
whenever there was anything to do. With his hands occupied he had an
excuse for not talking to the girls or being addressed by them, and, thus
shielded from the, direct rays of their society, basked with
inexpressible emotions in the general atmosphere of sweetness and light
which they diffused. He liked picnics because there was much work to do,
and never attended indoor parties because there was none. This inordinate
taste for industry in connection with social enjoyment on Tom's part was
strongly encouraged by the other young men, and they were the ones who
always stipulated that he should be of the party when there was likely to
be any call for rowing, taking care of horses, carrying of loads, putting
out of croquet sets, or other manual exertion. He was generally an odd
one in such companies. It would be no kindness to provide him a partner,
and, besides, everybody made so many jokes about him that none of the
girls quite cared to have their names coupled with his, although they all
had a compassionate liking for him.
On the present occasion this poor slave of the petticoat had been at work
preparing the boats all the morning.
"Why, how nicely you have arranged everything!" said Madeline kindly, as
she stood on the sand waiting for Henry to bring up a boat.
"What?" replied Tom, laughing in a flustered way.
He always laughed just so and said "what?" when any of the girls spoke to
him, being too much confused by the fact of being addressed to catch what
was said the first time.
"It's very good of you to arrange the boats for us, Madeline repeated.
"Oh, 'tain't anything, 'tain't anything at all," he blurted out, with a
very red face.
"You are going up in our boat, ain't you, Longman?" said Harry Tuttle.
"No, Tom, you're going with us," cried another young man.
"He's going with us, like a sensible fellow," said Will Taylor, who, with
Laura Burr, was sitting on the forward thwart of the boat, into the stern
of which Henry was now assisting Madeline.
"Tom, these lazy young men are just wanting you to do their rowing for
them," said she. "Get into our boat, and I'll make Henry row you."
"What do you say to that, Henry?" said Tom, snickering.
"It isn't for me to say anything after Madeline has spoken," replied the
young man.
"She has him in good subjection," remarked Ida Lewis, not over-sweetly.
"All right, I'll come in your boat, Miss Brand, if you'll take care of
me," said Tom, with a sudden spasm of boldness, followed by violent
blushes at the thought that perhaps be had said something too free.
The boat was pushed off. Nobody took the oars.
"I thought you were going to row?" said Madeline, turning to Henry, who
sat beside her in the stern.
"Certainly," said he, making as if he would rise. "Tom, you just sit here
while I row."
"Oh no, I'd just as lief row," said Tom, seizing the oars with feverish
haste.
"So would I, Tom; I want a little exercise," urged Henry with a
hypocritical grin, as he stood up in an attitude of readiness.
"Oh, I like to row. 'I'd a great deal rather. Honestly," asseverated Tom,
as he made the water foam with the violence of his strokes, compelling
Henry to resume his seat to preserve his equilibrium.
"It's perfectly plain that you don't want to sit by me, Tom. That hurts
my feelings," said Madeline, pretending to pout.
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