Aunt Jane's Nieces at Millville
A casual acquaintance with the Millville people might easily
explain this.
With the advent of the Weggs, however, a strong friendship seemed to
spring up between the retired sea captain and the bluff, erratic old
farmer, which lasted until the fatal day when one died and the other
became a paralytic and a maniac.
"We have always thought," said Ethel, "that the shock of the Captain's
death unsettled my grandfather's mind. They had been sitting quietly in
Captain Wegg's room one evening, as they were accustomed to do, when
there was a sudden fall and a cry. Thomas ran in at once, and found
grandfather raving over the Captain's dead body. The old seaman had
heart disease, it seems, and had often declared he would die suddenly.
It was a great blow to us all, but especially to Joe."
Her voice softened at this last remark, and Patsy exclaimed,
impulsively:
"Tell us about Joe Wegg. Did you like him?"
"Yes," said Ethel, simply; "we were naturally thrown much together in
our childhood, and became staunch friends. Grandpa often took me with
him on his visits to the Weggs, and sometimes, but not often, the
Captain would bring Joe to see us. He was a quiet, thoughtful boy; much
like his mother, I imagine; but for some reason he had conceived an
intense dislike for his father and an open hatred for this part of the
country, where he was born. Aside from these morbid notions, Joe was
healthy-minded and frank and genuine. Had he been educated in any other
atmosphere than the gloomy one of the Wegg household I am sure Joe's
character would have been wholly admirable, and I have never blamed the
boy much for his peculiarities. Captain Wegg would not permit him to go
to school, but himself attended to such instructions as Joe could
acquire at home, and this was so meager and the boy so ambitious that I
think it was one cause of his discontent. I remember, when I was sent to
school at Troy, that Joe sobbed for days because he could not have the
same advantages. He used to tell me wonderful stories of what he would
accomplish if he could only get out into the world.
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There was once an honest journeyman tailor, by name Labakan, who learned his trade with an excellent master in Alexandria. It could not be said that Labakan was unhandy with the needle; on the contrary, he could make excellent work: moreover, one would have done him injustice to have called him lazy. Nevertheless, his companions knew not what to make of him, for he would often sew for hours together so rapidly that the needle would glow in his hand, and the thread smoke, and that none could equal him.
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