Petey hadn’t really believed that Dad would be doing it – sending Granddad away. ”Away” was what they called it. Not until now could he believe it of Dad.
But there was the blanket that Dad had bought for him, and in the morning he would be going away. And this was the last evening that they would have together. Dad was off, seeing the girl that he was going to marry. He would not be back till late, and they could sit up and talk.
It was a fine September night, with a silver moon riding high over the valley. When they had washed up the supper dishes, they went out on the porch of the hut, the old man and the little boy, taking their chairs.
“I’ll get my fiddle,” said the old man, “and play you some of the old tunes.” But instead of the fiddle he brought out the blanket. It was a double blanket, red, with black stripes.
“Now isn’t that a fine blanket!” said the old man, smoothing it over his knees.
“And isn’t your father a kind man to give the old fellow a blanket like that to go away with? It cost something, it did – look at its wool! And it will certainly keep me warm these cold nights to come. There will be few blankets there equal to this!”
It was like Granddads to say that. He was trying to make it easier. He’d pretended all along it was he that wanted to go away to that great brick building – the government place where he’d be with so many other old fellows having the best of everything. But Petey hadn’t believed Dad would really do it, until this night when he brought home the blanket.
“Oh, yes, it’s a fine blanket,” said Petey, and got up and went into the hut. He wasn’t the kind to cry, and besides, he was too old for that, being eleven. He had just come in to fetch Granddad’s fiddle.
The blanket slid to the floor as the old man took the fiddle and stood up. It was the last night they’d be having together. There wasn’t any need to say ‘Play all the old tunes.’ Granddad tuned up for a minute and then said, “This is one you’d like to remember.”
The silver moon was high overhead, and there was a gentle breeze playing down the valley. He could never hear Granddad play this again. It was a good thing Dad was moving into that new house, away from here. Petey would not want to sit hereon the old porch on fine evenings, with Granddad gone.
The tune changed. “Here’s something merrier.” Petey sat and stared out over the valley. Dad would marry that girl. Yes, that girl who had kissed him and slobbered over him, saying she’d try to be a good mother to him, and all. His chair creaked as he involuntarily gave his body a painful twist.
The tune stopped suddenly, and Granddad said, “It’s a poor tune, except to be dancing to.” And then, “it’s a fine girl your father is going to marry. He’ll feel young again, with a pretty wife like that. And what would an old fellow like me do around the house, getting in the way, an old nuisance, what with my talk of aches and pains! And then there’ll be babies coming, and I’d not want to be there to hear them crying all hours. It’s best that I take myself off like I’m doing. One more tune or two, and then we’ll go to bed to get some sleep against the morning when I’ll pack up my fine blanket and take my leave. Listen to this, will you? It’s a bit sad, but a fine tune for a night likes this.”
They didn’t hear the two people coming down the valley path, Dad and the pretty girl with the hard, bright face like a china doll’s. But they heard her laugh, right by the porch, and the tune stopped on a wrong, high, startled note. Dad didn’t say anything, but the girl came forward and spoke to Granddad prettily. “I won’t see you leave in the morning; so I came over to say goodbye.”
“It’s kind of you,” said Granddad, with his eyes cast down; and then, seeing the blanket at his feet, he stopped to pick it up.
“And will you look at this,” he said in embarrassment. “The fine blanket my son has given me to go away with!”
“Yes,” she said, “it’s a fine blanket.” She felt the wool, and repeated in surprise, “A fine blanket – I’ll say it is!” She turned to Dad and said coldly, “It cost something that.”
He cleared his throat, and said defensively, “I wanted him to have the best – “
The girl stood there, still intent on the blanket, “it’s double too,” she said reproachfully to Dad.
“Yes,” said Granddad, it’s double – a fine blanket for an old fellow to go away with.”
The boy went suddenly into the hut. He was looking for something. He could hear that girl criticizing Dad, and Dad becoming angry in his slow way. And now she was suddenly going away angrily. As Petey came out, she turned and called out, “All the same, he doesn’t need a double blanket!” And she ran up the valley path.
Dad looked after her uncertainly.
“Oh, she’s right,” said the boy coldly. “Here, Dad,” and he held out a pair of scissors. Cut the blanket in two.”
Both of them stared at the boy surprised. “Cut it in two, I tell you Dad!” he cried out. “And keep one half!”
“That’s not a bad idea,” said Granddad gently. “I don’t need so much