When Betty returned, and Donald told her the happenings of the morning, the clouds dispersed somewhat, and before long the dictum that "there is humor in all things"--even in ejection from house and home--seemed proven true. After lunch they sat in Donald's den, and were laughingly suggesting every kind of habitat, possible and impossible, from purchasing and fitting up the iceman's covered wagon and perambulating round the town, to taking a store and increasing their income by purveying Betty's tempting preserves and confections.
Their consultation was interrupted by the arrival of Nickey, armed with a Boy Scouts' "Manual."
"Gee! Mr. Maxwell: Uncle Jonathan Jackson's all right; I'll never do another thing to guy him. He's loaned us his tent for our Boy Scouts' corpse, and I've been studyin' out how to pitch it proper, so I can show the kids the ropes; but----"
"Donald!" cried Betty. "The very thing--let's camp out on the church lot."
"By Jinks!" exclaimed Maxwell, unclerically. "We'll have that tent up this very afternoon--if Nickey will lend it to us, second hand, and get his men together."
Nickey flushed with delight. "You betcher life I will," he shouted excitedly. "Is it for a revival stunt? You 'aint goin' to live there, are you?"
"That's just what we are going to do, if Jonathan and you'll lend us the tent for a few months. Mr. Bascom wants to let the rectory to some other tenants, and we've got to find somewhere else to lay our heads. Why, it's the very way! There's not a thing against it, that I can see. Let's go and see the tent, and consult Mrs. Burke. Come along, both of you."
And off they hurried, like three children bent on a new game. It was soon arranged, and Hepsey rose to the occasion with her usual vim. To her and Nickey the transportation of the tent was consigned, while Maxwell went off to purchase the necessary boarding for a floor, and Mrs. Betty returned to the rectory to pack up their belongings.
"We'll have to occupy our new quarters to-night," said Maxwell, "or our friend the enemy may raid the church lot in the night, and vanish with tent and all."
An hour or so later, when Maxwell arrived at the church, clad in overalls and riding on a wagon of planks, he found Mrs. Burke and Nickey with a contingent of stalwarts awaiting him. There was a heap of canvas and some coils of rope lying on the ground near by. Hepsey greeted him with a smile from under the shade of her sun-bonnet.
"You seem ready for business, even if you don't look a little bit like the Archbishop of Canterbury in that rig," she remarked. "I'm afraid there'll be an awful scandal in the parish if you go wanderin' around dressed like a carpenter; but it can't be helped; and if the Bishop excommunicates you, I'll give you a job on the farm."
"I don't mind about the looks of it; but I suppose the vestry will have something to say about our camping on church property."
"That needn't worry you. Maybe it'll bring 'em to their senses, and maybe, they'll be ashamed when they see their parson driven out of his house and havin' to live in a tent,--though I 'aint holdin' out much hope of that, to you. Folks that are the most religious are usually the hardest to shame. I always said, financially speakin', that preachin' wasn't a sound business. It's all give and no get; but this is the first time I've ever heard of a parish wanting a parson to preach without eating and to sleep without a roof over his head. Most of us seem to forget that rectors are human being like the rest of us. If religion is worth havin', it's worth payin' for."
The planking was soon laid, and the erection of the tent was left to Nickey's captaining--all hands assisting. With his manual in one hand he laid it out, rope by rope, poles in position, and each helper at his place. Then at a word, up it soared, with a "bravo" from the puzzled onlookers.
"We want a poet here," laughed Maxwell. "Longfellow's 'Building of the Ship,' or Ralph Connor's 'Building the Barn' aren't a circumstance to Nickey's 'Pitching the Parson's Tent.'"
It was next divided off into three convenient rooms, for sleeping, eating and cooking--and Hepsey, with three scouts, having driven across to the old rectory while the finishing touches were being put to the new, she and her military escort soon returned with Mrs. Betty, and a load of furniture and other belongings.
"Why, this is perfect!" cried Betty. "The only thing lacking to complete the illusion is a trout brook in the front yard, and the smell of pines and the damp mossy earth of the forests. We'll wear our old clothes, and have a bonfire at night, and roast potatoes and corn in the hot coals, and have the most beautiful time imaginable."
The town visitors who still lingered on the scene were received cordially by Maxwell and Mrs. Betty, who seemed to be in rather high spirits; but when the visitors made any inquiries concerning structural matters they were politely referred to Nickey Burke for any information they desired, as he had assumed official management of the work.
Just before the various helpers left at six o'clock, smoke began to issue from the little stove-pipe sticking out through the canvas of the rear of the tent, and Mrs. Betty, with her sleeves rolled up to her elbows and her cooking apron on, came out to watch it with all the pride of a good housekeeper.
"Isn't it jolly, Mrs. Burke," she exclaimed. "I was afraid that it would not draw, but it really does, you see. This will be more fun than a month at the seashore; and to-morrow we are going to have you and Nickey dine with us in the tent; so don't make any other engagement. Don't forget."
By noon of the following day everybody in town knew that the Maxwells had been dispossessed, and were camping on the church lot; and before night most of the women and a few of the men had called to satisfy their curiosity, and to express their sympathy with the rector and his wife, who, however, seemed to be quite comfortable and happy in their new quarters. On the other hand, some of the vestry hinted strongly that tents could not be put up on church property without their formal permission, and a few of the more pious suggested that it was little short of sacrilege thus to violate the sanctity of a consecrated place. Nickey had painted a large sign with the word RECTORY on it, in truly rustic lettering, and had hung it at the entrance of the tent. The Editor of the Durford Daily Bugle appeared with the village photographer, and after an interview with Maxwell requested him and his wife to pose for a pi............