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diff --git a/10358-h/10358-h.htm b/10358-h/10358-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5cd12f1 --- /dev/null +++ b/10358-h/10358-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9008 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta name="generator" content= +"HTML Tidy for Windows (vers 1st November 2003), see www.w3.org" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content= +"text/html; charset=UTF-8" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Boss of Little Arcady by +Harry Leon Wilson</title> + +<style type="text/css"> + /* ![CDATA[ */ +<!-- + body + {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + p + {text-align: justify;} + blockquote + {text-align: justify;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 + {text-align: center;} + hr + {text-align: center; width: 50%;} + html>body hr + {margin-right: 25%; margin-left: 25%; width: 50%;} + hr.full + {width: 100%;} + html>body hr.full + {margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 0%; width: 100%;} + pre + {font-size: 0.7em; background-color: #F0F0F0;} + .poetry + {margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 0%; + text-align: left;} + .figure + {margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%; + text-align: center; font-size: 0.8em;} + .figure img + {border: none;} + span.pagenum + {position: absolute; left: 1%; right: 91%; + font-size: 0.7em;} + a:link {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + link {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + a:visited {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + a:hover {color:red} +--> + +</style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10358 ***</div> + +<p class="figure"><img width="80%" src="images/illp002.png" alt= +"THE BOSS OF LITTLE ARCADY" /></p> + + + + +<h2>THE BOSS OF LITTLE ARCADY</h2> +<center>BY</center> +<center>HARRY LEON WILSON</center> + + +<center>Illustrated by Rose Cecil O'Neill</center> +<p class="figure"><img width="60%" src="images/illp003.png" alt= +"SINGING BEDOUIN LOVE SONGS" /></p> + + + + +<center>Published, August, 1905</center> + + + + +<h2>TO</h2> +<h2>MY MOTHER</h2> + + + + +<p class="figure"><img width="80%" src="images/illp004.png" alt= +"READING THE ARGUS." /></p> + + + + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> +<pre> +<i>THE BOOK OF COLONEL POTTS</i> +</pre> +<pre> +CHAPTER +</pre> +<pre> +<a href="#CH1">I. How the Boss won his Title</a> +</pre> +<pre> +<a href="#CH2">II. The Golden Day of Colonel Potts</a> +</pre> +<pre> +<a href="#CH3">III. The Perfect Lover</a> +</pre> +<pre> +<a href="#CH4">IV. Dreams and Wakings</a> +</pre> +<pre> +<a href="#CH5">V. A Mad Prank of the Gods</a> +</pre> +<pre> +<a href="#CH6">VI. A Matter of Personal Property</a> +</pre> +<pre> +<a href="#CH7">VII. "A World of Fine Fabling"</a> +</pre> +<pre> +<a href="#CH8">VIII. Adventure of Billy Durgin, Sleuth</a> +</pre> +<pre> +<a href="#CH9">IX. How the Boss saved Himself</a> +</pre> +<pre> +<a href="#CH10">X. A Lady of Powers</a> +</pre> +<pre> +<a href="#CH11">XI. How Little Arcady was Uplifted</a> +</pre> +<pre> +<a href="#CH12">XII. Troubled Waters are Stilled</a> +</pre> +<pre> +<i>THE BOOK OF MISS CAROLINE</i> +</pre> +<pre> +<a href="#CH13">XIII. A Catastrophe in Furniture</a> +</pre> +<pre> +<a href="#CH14">XIV. The Coming of Miss Caroline</a> +</pre> +<pre> +<a href="#CH15">XV. Little Arcady views a Parade</a> +</pre> +<pre> +<a href="#CH16">XVI. The Spectre of Scandal is Raised</a> +</pre> +<pre> +<a href="#CH17">XVII. The Truth about Shakspere at Last</a> +</pre> +<pre> +<a href="#CH18">XVIII. In which the Game was Played</a> +</pre> +<pre> +<a href="#CH19">XIX. A Worthless Black Hound</a> +</pre> +<pre> +<a href="#CH20">XX. In which Something must be Done</a> +</pre> +<pre> +<a href="#CH21">XXI. Little Arcady is grievously Shaken</a> +</pre> +<pre> +<i>THE BOOK OF LITTLE MISS</i> +</pre> +<pre> +<a href="#CH22">XXII. The Time of Dreams</a> +</pre> +<pre> +<a href="#CH23">XXIII. The Strain of Peavey</a> +</pre> +<pre> +<a href="#CH24">XXIV. The Loyalty of Jim</a> +</pre> +<pre> +<a href="#CH25">XXV. The Case of Fatty Budlow</a> +</pre> +<pre> +<a href="#CH26">XXVI. A Little Mystery is Solved</a> +</pre> +<pre> +<a href="#CH27">XXVII. How a Truce was Troublesome</a> +</pre> +<pre> +<a href="#CH28">XXVIII. The Abdication of the Boss</a> +</pre> +<pre> +<a href="#CH29">XXIX. In which All Rules are Broken</a> +</pre> +<pre> +<a href="#CH30">XXX. By Another Hand</a> +</pre> + + + + +<p class="figure"><img width="80%" src="images/illp005.png" alt= +"LITTLE MISS AND JIM." /></p> +<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> +<p>"A chestin' out his chest lahk a ole ma'ash frawg"</p> +<p>"And yet I have been pestered by cheap flings at my personal +bearing"</p> +<p>"We might get him to make a barrel of it for the Sunday-school +picnic"</p> +<p>"That will do," I said severely. "Remember there is a gentleman +present"</p> + + + + +<p class="figure"><img width="50%" src="images/illp006.png" alt= +"THE BOOK OF COLONEL POTTS." /></p> +<center><h4>"THE BOOK OF COLONEL POTTS."</h4></center> + + + + +<h2><a name="CH1">CHAPTER I</a></h2> +<center>HOW THE BOSS WON HIS TITLE</center> +<blockquote> +<p>Late last Thursday evening one Jonas Rodney Potts, better known +to this community as "Upright" Potts, stumbled into the mill-race, +where it had providentially been left open just north of Cady's +mill. Everything was going along finely until two hopeless +busybodies were attracted to the spot by his screams, and fished +him out. It is feared that he will recover. We withhold the names +of his rescuers, although under strong temptation to publish them +broadcast.—<i>Little Arcady Argus</i> of May 21st.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Looking back to that time from a happier present, I am filled by +a genuine awe of J. Rodney Potts. Reflecting upon those benign ends +which the gods chose to make him serve, I can but marvel how +lightly each of us may meet and scorn a casual Potts, unrecking his +gracious and predestined office in the play of Fate.</p> +<p>Of the present—to me—supreme drama of the Little +Country, I can only say that the gods had selected their agent with +a cunning so flawless that suspicion of his portents could not well +have been aroused in one lacking discernment like unto the gods' +very own. So trivially, so utterly, so pitiably casual, to eyes of +the flesh, was this Potts of Little Arcady, from his immortal soul +to the least item of his inferior raiment!</p> +<p>Thus craftily are we fooled by the Lords of Destiny, whose +caprice it is to affect remoteness from us and a lofty unconcern +for our poor little doings.</p> +<p>There is bitterness in the lines of that <i>Argus</i> paragraph, +and a flippant incivility might be read between them by the least +discerning.</p> +<p>Arcady of the Little Country, however, knows there is neither +bitterness nor real cynicism in Solon Denney, founder, editor, and +proprietor of the <i>Little Arcady Argus</i>; motto, "Hew to the +Line, Let the Chips Fall Where they May!" Indeed, we do know Solon. +Often enough has the <i>Argus</i> hewn inexorably to the line, when +that line led straight through the heart of its guiding genius and +through the hearts of us all. One who had seen him, as I did, stand +uncovered in the presence of his new Washington hand-press, the day +that dynamo of Light was erected in the <i>Argus</i> office, could +never suppose him to lack humanity or the just reverence demanded +by his craft.</p> +<p>We may concede without disloyalty that Solon is peculiar unto +himself. In his presence you are cursed with an unquiet suspicion +that he may become frivolous with you at any moment,—may, +indeed, be so at that moment, despite a due facial gravity and +tones of weight,—for he will not infrequently seem to be both +trivial and serious in the same breath. Again, he is amazingly +sensitive for one not devoid of humor. In a pleasant sense he is +acutely aware of himself, and he does not dislike to know that you +feel his quality. Still again, he is bound to spice his writing. +Were it his lot to report events on the Day of Judgment, I believe +the <i>Argus</i> account would be thought too highly colored by +many persons of good taste.</p> +<p>But Little Arcady knows that Solon is loyal to its +welfare—knows that he is fit to wield the mightiest lever of +Civilization in its behalf on Wednesday of each week.</p> +<p>We know now, moreover, that an undercurrent of circumstance +existed which did not even ripple the surface of that apparently +facetious brutality hurled at J. Rodney Potts.</p> +<p>The truth may not be told in a word. But it was in this affair +that Solon Denney won his title of "Boss of Little Arcady," a title +first rendered unto him somewhat in derision, I regret to say, by a +number of our leading citizens, who sought, as it were, to make +sport of him.</p> +<p>It began in a jest, as do all the choicest tragedies of the +gods,—a few lines of idle badinage, meant to spice Solon's +column of business locals with a readable sprightliness. The thing +was printed, in fact, between "Let Harpin Cust shine your face with +his new razors" and "See that line of clocks at Chislett's for +sixty cents. They look like cuckoos and keep good time." "Not much +news this week," the item blithely ran, "so we hereby start the +rumor that 'Upright' Potts is going to leave town. We would incite +no community to lawless endeavor, but—may the Colonel +encounter swiftly in his new environment that warm reception to +which his qualities of mind, no less than his qualities of heart, +so richly entitle him,—that reception, in short, which our +own debilitated public spirit has timidly refused him. We claim the +right to start any rumor of this sort that will cheer the souls of +an admiring constituency. Now is the time to pay up that +subscription."</p> +<p>The intention, of course, was openly playful—a not subtle +sally meant to be read and forgotten. Yet—will it be +credited?—more than one of us read it so hurriedly, perhaps +with so passionate a longing to have it the truth, as not to +perceive its satirical indirections. The rumor actually lived for a +day that Potts was to disembarrass the town of his presence.</p> +<p>And then, from the fictitious stuff of this rumor was spawned a +veritable inspiration. Several of our most public-spirited citizens +seemed to father it simultaneously.</p> +<p>"Why should Potts <i>not</i> leave town—why should he not +seek out a new field of effort?"</p> +<p>"Field of effort" was a rank bit of poesy, it being certain that +Potts would never make an effort worthy of the name in any field +whatsoever; but the sense of it was plain. Increasingly with the +years had plans been devised to alleviate the condition of Potts's +residence among us. Some of these had required a too definite and +artificial abruptness in the mechanics of his removal; others, like +Eustace Eubanks's plot for having all our best people refuse to +notice him, depended upon a sensitiveness in the person aimed at +which he did not possess. Besides, there had been talk of +disbarring him from the practice of his profession, and I, as a +lawyer, had been urged to instigate that proceeding. Unquestionably +there was ground for it.</p> +<p>But now this random pleasantry of Solon Denney's set our minds +to working in another direction.</p> +<p>In the broad, pleasant window of the post-office, under the "NO +LOAFING HERE!" sign, half a dozen of us discussed it while we +waited for the noon mail. There seemed to be a half-formed belief +that Potts might adroitly be made to perceive advantages in leaving +us.</p> +<p>"It's a whole lot better to manipulate and be subtle in a case +like this," suggested the editor of the <i>Argus</i>. "Threats of +violence, forcible expulsion, disbarment proceedings—all +crude—and besides they won't move Potts. Jonas Rodney may not +be gifted with a giant intellect, but he is cunning."</p> +<p>"The cunning of a precocious boy," prompted Eustace Eubanks, who +was one of us. "He is well aware that we would not dare attempt +lawless violence."</p> +<p>"Exactly, Eustace," answered Solon. "I tell you, gentlemen, this +thriving little town needs a canning factory, as we all know; but +more than a canning factory it needs a Boss,—one of those +strong characters that make tools of their fellow-men, who rule our +cities with an iron hand but take care to keep the hand in a velvet +glove,—a Boss that is diplomatic, yet an autocrat."</p> +<p>That careless use of the term "Boss" was afterward seen to be +unfortunate for Solon. They remembered it against him.</p> +<p>"That's right," said Westley Keyts. "Let's be diplomatic with +him."</p> +<p>"How would <i>you</i> begin, Westley, if you don't mind telling +us?" Solon had already begun to shape a scheme of his own.</p> +<p>"Why," answered Westley, looking very earnest, "just go up to +him in a quiet, refined manner—no blustering, +understand—and say in a low tone, kind of off-hand but +serious, 'Now, look a' here, Potts, old boy, let's talk this thing +over like a couple of gentlemen had ought to.' 'Well, all right,' +says Potts, 'that's fair—I couldn't refuse <i>that</i> as +from one gentleman to another gentleman.' Well, then, say to him, +'Now, Potts, you know as well as any man in this town that you're +an all-round no-good—you're a human <i>Not</i>—and a +darn scalawag into the bargain. So what's the <i>use</i>? Will you +go, or won't you?' Then if he'd begin to hem and haw and try to put +it off with one thing or another, why, just hint in a roundabout +way—perfectly genteel, you understand—that there'd be +doings with a kittle of tar and feathers that same night at +eight-thirty sharp, rain or shine, with a free ride right afterward +to the town line and mebbe a bit beyond, without no cushions. Up +about the Narrows would be a good place to say farewell," he +concluded thoughtfully.</p> +<p>We had listened patiently enough, but this was too summary. +Westley Keyts is our butcher, a good, honest, energetic, downright +business man with a square forehead and a blunt jaw and red hair +that bristles with challenges. But he seems compelled to say too +nearly what he means to render him useful in negotiations requiring +any considerable finesse.</p> +<p>"We were speaking, Westley, of the gentle functions of +diplomacy," remarked Solon, cuttingly. "Of course, we <i>could</i> +waylay Potts and kill him with one of your cleavers and have his +noble head stuffed and mounted to hang up over Barney Skeyhan's +bar, but it wouldn't be subtle—it would not be what the +newspapers call 'a triumph of diplomacy'! And then, again, reports +of it might be carried to other towns, and talk would be +caused."</p> +<p>"Now, say," retorted Westley, somewhat abashed, "I was thinking +I answered all <i>that</i> by winding up the way like I did, asking +him,—not mad-like, you understand,—'Now will you go or +<i>won't</i> you?' just like that. All I can say is, if that ain't +diplomacy, then I don't know what in Time diplomacy <i>is</i>!"</p> +<p>I think we conceded this, in silence, be it understood, for +Westley is respected. But we looked to Solon for a more tenuous +subtlety. Nor did he fail us. Two days later Potts upon the public +street actually announced his early departure from Little +Arcady.</p> +<p>To know how pleasing an excitement this created one should know +more about Potts. It will have been inferred that he was +objectionable. For the fact, he was objectionable in every way: as +a human being, a man, a citizen, a member of the Slocum County bar, +and a veteran of our late civil conflict. He was shiftless, untidy, +a borrower, a pompous braggart, a trouble-maker, forever driving +some poor devil into senseless litigation. Moreover, he was +blithely unscrupulous in his dealings with the Court, his clients, +his brother-attorneys, and his fellow-men at large. When I add that +he was given to spells of hard drinking, during which he became +obnoxious beyond the wildest possible dreams of that quality, it +will be seen that we of Little Arcady were not without reason for +wishing him away.</p> +<p>He had drifted casually in upon us after the war, accompanied +somewhat elegantly by one John Randolph Clement Tuckerman, an +ex-slave. He came with much talk of his regiment,—a +fat-cheeked, florid man of forty-five or so, with shifty blue eyes +and an address moderately insinuating. Very tall he was, and so +erect that he seemed to lean a little backward. This physical +trait, combining with a fancy for referring to himself freely as +"an upright citizen of this reunited and glorious republic, sir!" +had speedily made him known as "Upright" Potts. He was of a slender +build and a bony frame, except in front. His long, single-breasted +frock-coat hung loosely enough about his shoulders, yet buttoned +tightly over a stomach that was so incongruous as to seem +artificial. The sleeves of the coat were glossy from much desk +rubbing, and its front advertised a rather inattentive behavior at +table. The Colonel's dress was completed by drab overgaiters and +poorly draped trousers of the same once-delicate hue. Upon his bald +head, which was high and peaked, like Sir Walter Scott's, he +carried a silk hat in an inferior state of preservation. When he +began to drink it was his custom to repair at once to a barber and +submit to having his side-whiskers trimmed fastidiously. Sober, he +seemed to feel little pride of person, and his whiskers at such a +time merely called attention somewhat unprettily to his lack of a +chin. His other possessions were an ebony walking stick with a gold +head and what he referred to in moments of expansion as his +"library." This consisted of a copy of the Revised Statutes, a +directory of Cincinnati, Ohio, for the year 1867, and two volumes +of Patent Office reports.</p> +<p>At the time of which I speak the Colonel had long been sober, +and the day that Solon Denney completed those mysterious +negotiations with him he was as far from conventional standards of +the beautiful as I remember to have seen him.</p> +<p>The guise of Solon's subtlety, the touch of his iron hand in a +glove of softest velvet, had been in this wise: he had pointed out +to the Colonel that there were richer fields of endeavor to the +west of us; newer, larger towns, fitter abodes for a man of his +parts; communities which had honors and emoluments to lavish upon +the worthy,—prizes which it would doubtless never be in our +poor power to bestow.</p> +<p>Potts was stirred by all this, but he was not blinded to certain +disadvantages,—"a stranger in a strange land," etc., while in +Little Arcady he had already "made himself known."</p> +<p>But, suggested Solon, with a ready wit, if the stranger were to +go fortified with certificates of character from the leading +citizens of his late home?</p> +<p>This was a thing to consider. Potts reflected more favorably; +but still he hesitated. He was unable to believe that these +certificates of his excellence might be obtained. The bar and the +commercial element of Little Arcady had been cold, not to say +suspicious, toward him. It was an unpleasant thing to mention, but +a cabal had undeniably been formed.</p> +<p>Solon was politely incredulous. He pledged his word of honor as +a gentleman to provide the letters,—a laudatory, an uplifting +letter, from every citizen in town whose testimony would be of +weight; also a half-column of fit praise in the next issue of the +<i>Argus</i>, twelve copies of which Potts should freely carry off +with him for judicious scattering about the fortunate town in which +his journey should end.</p> +<p>Then Potts spoke openly of the expenses of travel. Solon, +royally promising a purse of gold to take him on his way, clenched +the winning of a neat and bloodless victory.</p> +<p>No one has ever denied that Denney must have employed a +faultless, an incomparable tact, to bring J. Rodney Potts to this +agreement. By tact alone had he achieved that which open sneers, +covert insult, abuse, ridicule, contumely, and forthright threats +had failed to consummate, and in the first flush of the news we all +felt much as Westley Keyts said he did.</p> +<p>"Solon Denney is some subtler than me," said Westley, in a +winning spirit of concession; "I can see that, now. He's the Boss +of Little Arcady after this, all right, so far as <i>I</i> +know."</p> +<p>Nevertheless, there was misgiving about the letters for Potts. +Old Asa Bundy, our banker, wanted to know, somewhat peevishly, if +it seemed quite honest to send Potts to another town with a satchel +full of letters certifying to his rare values as a man and a +citizen. What would that town think of us two or three days +later?</p> +<p>"This is no time to split hairs, Bundy," said Solon; and I +believe I added, "Don't be quixotic, Mr. Bundy!"</p> +<p>Hereupon Westley Keyts broke in brightly.</p> +<p>"Why, now, they'll see in a minute that the whole thing was +meant as a joke. They'll see that the laugh is on <i>them</i>, and +they'll have a lot of fun out of it, and then send the old cuss +along to another town with some more funny letters to fool the next +ones." "That's all very <i>well</i>, but it isn't high conduct," +insisted Bundy.</p> +<p>Westley Keyts now achieved the nearest approach to diplomacy I +have ever known of him.</p> +<p>"Oh, well, Asa, after all, this is a world of give and take. +'Live and let live' is my motto."</p> +<p>"We must use common sense in these matters, you know, Bundy," +observed Solon, judicially.</p> +<p>And that sophistry prevailed, for we were weak unto faintness +from our burden.</p> +<p>We gave letters setting forth that J. Rodney Potts was the ideal +inhabitant of a city larger than our own. We glowed in describing +the virtues of our departing townsman; his honesty of purpose, his +integrity of character, his learning in the law, his wide range of +achievement, civic and military,—all those attributes that +fitted him to become a stately ornament and a tower of strength to +any community larger in the least degree than our own modest +town.</p> +<p>And there was the purse. Fifty dollars was suggested by Eustace +Eubanks, but Asa Bundy said that this would not take Potts far +enough. Eustace said that a man could travel an immense distance +for fifty dollars. Bundy retorted that an ordinary man might +perhaps go far enough on that sum, but not Potts.</p> +<p>"If we are to perpetrate this outrage at all," insisted Bundy, +pulling in calculation at his little chin-whisker, "let us do it +thoroughly. A hundred dollars can't take Potts any too far. We must +see that he keeps going until he could never get back—" We +all nodded to this.</p> +<p>"—and another thing, the farther away from this town those +letters are read,—why, the better for our reputations."</p> +<p>A hundred dollars it was. Purse and letters were turned over to +Solon Denney to deliver to Potts. The <i>Argus</i> came out with +its promised eulogy, a thing so fulsome that any human being but J. +Rodney Potts would have sickened to read it of himself.</p> +<p>But our little town was elated. One could observe that last day +a subdued but confident gayety along its streets as citizens +greeted one another.</p> +<p>On every hand were good fellowship and kind words, the +light-hearted salute, the joyous mien. It was an occasion that came +near to being festal, and Solon Denney was its hero. He sought to +bear his honors with the modesty that is native to him, but in his +heart he knew that we now spoke of him glibly as the Boss of Little +Arcady, and the consciousness of it bubbled in his manner in spite +of him.</p> +<p>When it was all over,—though I had not once raised my +voice in protest, and had frankly connived with the others,—I +confess that I felt shame for us and pity for the friendless man we +were sending out into the world. Something childlike in his +acceptance of the proposal, a few phrases of naive enthusiasm for +his new prospects, repeated to me by Solon, touched me strangely. +It was, therefore, with real embarrassment that I read the +<i>Argus</i> notice. "With profound regret," it began, "we are +obliged to announce to our readers the determination of our +distinguished fellow-townsman, Colonel J. Rodney Potts, to shake +the dust of Little Arcady from his feet. Deaf to entreaties from +our leading citizens, the gallant Colonel has resolved that in +simple justice to himself he must remove to some larger field of +action, where his native genius, his flawless probity, and his +profound learning in the law may secure for him those richer +rewards which a man of his unusual caliber commendably craves and +so abundantly merits."</p> +<p>There followed an overflowing half-column of warmest praise, +embodying felicitations to the unnamed city so fortunate as to +secure this "peerless pleader and Prince of Gentlemen." It ended +with the assurance that Colonel Potts would take with him the +cordial good-will of every member of a community to which he had +endeared himself, no less by his sterling civic virtues than by his +splendid qualities of mind and heart.</p> +<p>The thing filled me with an indignant pity. I tried in vain to +sleep. In the darkness of night our plan came to seem like an +atrocious outrage upon a guileless, defenceless ne'er-do-well. For +my share of the guilt, I resolved to convey to Potts privately on +the morrow a more than perfunctory promise of aid, should he find +himself distressed at any time in what he would doubtless term his +new field of endeavor.</p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CH2">CHAPTER II</a></h2> +<center>THE GOLDEN DAY OF COLONEL POTTS</center> +<p>I awoke the next morning under most vivid portents of calamity. +I believe I am neither notional, nor given to small, vulgar +superstitions, but I have learned that this peculiar sensation is +never without significance. I remember that I felt it the night our +wagon bridge went out by high water. I tried to read the +presentiment as I dressed. But not until I was shaving did it +relate itself to the going out of Potts. Then the illumination came +with a speed so electric that I gashed my chin under the shock of +it. Instantly I seemed to know, as well as I know to-day, that the +Potts affair had, in some manner, been botched.</p> +<p>So apprehensive was I that I lingered an hour on my little +riverside porch, dreading the events that I felt the day must +unfold. Inevitably, however, I was drawn to the centre of things. +Turning down Main Street at the City Hotel corner, on the way to my +office, I had to pass the barber-shop of Harpin Cust, in front of +which I found myself impelled to stop. Looking over the row of +potted geraniums in the window, I beheld Colonel Potts in the +chair, swathed to the chin in the barber's white cloth, a gaze of +dignified admiration riveted upon his counterpart in the mirror. +Seen thus, he was not without a similarity to pictures of the +Matterhorn, his bare, rugged peak rising fearsomely above his +snow-draped bulk. Harpin appeared to be putting the last snipping +touches to the Colonel's too-long neglected side-whiskers. On the +table lay his hat and gold-headed cane, and close at hand stood his +bulging valise.</p> +<p>I walked hastily on. The thing was ominous. Yet, might it not +merely denote that Potts wished to enter upon his new life well +barbered? The bulging bag supported this possibility, and yet I was +ill at ease.</p> +<p>Reaching my office, I sought to engage myself with the papers of +an approaching suit, but it was impossible to ignore the darkling +cloud of disaster which impended. I returned to the street +anxiously.</p> +<p>On my way to the City Hotel, where I had resolved to await like +a man what calamity there might be, I again passed the +barber-shop.</p> +<p>Harpin Cust now leaned, gracefully attentive, on the back of the +empty chair, absently swishing his little whisk broom. Before him +was planted Potts, his left foot advanced, his head thrown back, +reading to Harpin from a spread page of the <i>Argus</i>. I divined +that he was reading Solon's comment upon himself, and I +shuddered.</p> +<p>As I paused at the door of the hotel Potts emerged from the +barber-shop. In one hand he carried his bag, in the other his cane +and the <i>Little Arcady</i> <i>Argus</i>. His hat was a bit to one +side, and it seemed to me that he was leaning back farther than +usual. He had started briskly down the street in the opposite +direction from me, but halted on meeting Eustace Eubanks. The +Colonel put down his bag and they shook hands. Eustace seemed eager +to pass on, but the Colonel detained him and began reading from the +<i>Argus</i>. His voice carried well on the morning air, and +various phrases, to which he gave the full meed of emphasis, +floated to me on the gentle breeze. "That peerless pleader and +Prince of Gentlemen," came crisply to my ears. Eustace appeared to +be restive, but the Colonel, through caution, or, perhaps, mere +friendliness, had moored him by a coat lapel.</p> +<p>The reading done, I saw that Eustace declined some urgent +request of the Colonel's, drawing away the moment his coat was +released. As they parted, my worst fears were confirmed, for I saw +the Colonel progress flourishingly to the corner and turn in under +the sign, "Barney Skeyhan; Choice Wines, Liquors, and Cigars."</p> +<p>"What did he say?" I asked of Eustace as he came up.</p> +<p>"It was exceedingly distasteful, Major." Eustace was not a +little perturbed by the encounter. "He read every word of that +disgusting article in the <i>Argus</i> and then he begged me to go +into that Skeyhan's drinking-place with him and have a glass of +liquor. I said very sharply, 'Colonel Potts, I have never known the +taste of liquor in my whole life nor used tobacco in any form.' At +that he looked at me in the utmost astonishment and said: 'Bless my +soul! <i>Really?</i> Young man, don't you put it off another +day—life is awful uncertain.' 'Why, Colonel,' I said, +'<i>that</i> isn't any way to talk,' but he simply tore down the +street, saying that I was taking great chances."</p> +<p>"And now he is reading his piece to Barney Skeyhan!" I +groaned.</p> +<p>"Rum is the scourge of our American civilization," remarked +Eustace, warmly.</p> +<p>"Barney Skeyhan's rum would scourge anybody's civilization," I +said.</p> +<p>"Of course I meant <i>all</i> civilization," suggested Eustace, +in polite help to my lame understanding.</p> +<p>Precisely at nine o'clock Potts issued from Skeyhan's, bearing +his bag, cane, and <i>Argus</i> as before. He looked up and down +the quiet street interestedly, then crossed over to Hermann +Hoffmuller's, another establishment in which our civilization was +especially menaced. He was followed cordially by five of Little +Arcady's lesser citizens, who had obviously sustained the relation +of guests to him at Skeyhan's. In company with Westley Keyts and +Eubanks, I watched this procession from the windows of the City +Hotel. Solon Denney chanced to pass at the moment, and we hailed +him.</p> +<p>"Oh, I'll soon fix <i>that</i>," said Solon, confidently. "Don't +you worry!"</p> +<p>And forthwith he sent Billy Durgin, who works in the City Hotel, +to Hoffmuller's. He was to remind Colonel Potts that his train left +at eleven-eight.</p> +<p>Billy returned with news. Potts was reading the piece to +Hoffmuller and a number of his patrons. Further, he had bought, and +the crowd was then consuming, the two fly-specked bottles of +champagne which Hoffmuller had kept back of his bar, one on either +side of a stuffed owl, since the day he began business eleven years +before.</p> +<p>Billy also brought two messages to Solon: one from Potts that he +had been mistaken about the attitude of Little Arcady toward +himself—that he was seeing this more clearly every minute. +The other was from Hoffmuller. Solon Denney was to know that some +people might be just as good as other people who thought themselves +a lot better, and would he please not take some shingles off a +man's roof?</p> +<p>Solon, ever the incorrigible optimist, said, "Of course I might +have waited till he was on the train to give him the money; but +don't worry, he'll be ready enough to go when the 'bus starts."</p> +<p>I felt unable to share his confidence. That presentiment had for +the moment corrupted my natural hopefulness.</p> +<p>It was a few moments after ten when Potts next appeared to our +group of anxious watchers. This time he had more friends. They +swarmed respectfully but enthusiastically after him out of +Hoffmuller's place, a dozen at least of our ne'er-do-wells. One of +these, "Big Joe" Kestril, a genial lout of a section-hand, +ostentatiously carried the bag and had an arm locked tenderly +through one of the Colonel's. These two led the procession. It +halted at the corner, where the Colonel began to read his +<i>Argus</i> notice to Bela Bedford, our druggist, who had been on +the point of entering his store. But the newspaper had suffered. It +was damp from being laid on bars, and parts of it were in tatters. +The reader paused, midway of the first paragraph, to piece a tear +across the column, and Bedford escaped by dashing into his store. +The Colonel, suddenly discovering that he could recite the thing +from memory, did so with considerable dramatic effect, seeming not +to notice the defection of Bedford. The crowd cheered madly when he +had finished, and followed him across the street to the bar of the +City Hotel.</p> +<p>We could now observe better. The bar of the City Hotel is next +the office. A door is open between them with a wooden screen +standing before it. Inside the carouse raged, while we, who had +thought to set Potts at large, listened and wondered. The taller +among us could overlook the screen. We beheld Potts, one elbow +resting on the bar, his other hand with the cane in it waving +forward his unreluctant train, while he loudly inquired if there +were drink to be had suitable for a gentleman who was prepared to +spend his money like a lord.</p> +<p>"None of that cooking whiskey, mind—nothing but the best +bottled goods, if you please!" was the next suggestion.</p> +<p>Again the crowd cheered. New faces were constantly appearing. +The news had gone out with an incredible rapidity. Honest men, +inflamed by the report, were leaving their works and speeding to +the front from as far north as the fair-grounds and as far south as +the depot.</p> +<p>"Soon," said Potts, after the first drink, "ah, too soon, I +shall be miles away from your thriving little hamlet,—as +pretty a spot, by the way, as God ever made,—seeing none but +strange faces, longing for the old hearty hand-clasps, seeking, +perhaps, in vain, for one kindly look which—which is now to +be observed on every hand. But, friends, Colonel J. Rodney will not +forget you. I have rare prospects, but no matter. To this little +spot, the fairest in all Nature,—here among your simple, +heartfelt faces, where I first got my start,—here my feelings +will ever and anon return; for—why should I conceal +it?—it is you, my friends, who have made me the man I +am."</p> +<p>Here Potts put an arm over the shoulder of Big Joe and urged +pleadingly: "Another verse of that sweet old song, boys. I tell you +that has the true heart-stuff in it—now—"</p> +<p>They roared out a verse of "Auld Lang Syne," with execrable +attempts at part-singing, little Dan Lefferts, a dissolute +house-painter, contributing a tenor that was simply maniacal.</p> +<p>Potts ordered more drinks. This done, he leaned heavily upon the +bar and burst into tears. The varlets crowded about him with +tender, soothing words, while we in the other room anxiously +watched them and the clock.</p> +<p>He was overcome, it seemed, by the affection which it now +transpired that Little Arcady bore for him. Presently he half dried +his tears and drew from an inner pocket of his coat the package of +our letters.</p> +<p>With eyes again streaming, in a sob-riven voice, he read them +all to the pleased crowd. At the end, he regained control of +himself.</p> +<p>"Gentlemen, believe it or not, nothing has touched me like this +since I bade farewell to my regiment in '65. You are getting under +the heart of Jonas Rodney this time—I can't deny that."</p> +<p>He began on the letters again, selecting the choicest, and not +forgetting at intervals to rebuke the bar-tender for alleged +inactivity.</p> +<p>At last the clock marked ten-forty, and we heard the welcome +rumble of the 'bus wheels. There was a hurried consultation with +Amos Deane, the driver. He was to enter the bar in a brisk, +businesslike way, seize the bag, and hustle the Colonel out before +he had time to reflect. We peered over the screen, knowing the +fateful moment was come.</p> +<p>We saw the Colonel resist the attack on his bag and listen with +marked astonishment to the assertion of Amos that there was just +time to catch the train.</p> +<p>"Time was made for slaves," said Potts.</p> +<p>"That there train ain't goin' to wait a minute," reminded Amos, +civilly. The Colonel turned upon him with a large sweetness of +manner.</p> +<p>"Ah, yes, my friend, but trains will be passing through your +pretty little hamlet for years—I hope for ages—yet. +They pass every day, but you can't have Jonas Rodney Potts every +day."</p> +<p>Here, with a gesture, he directed the crowd's attention to +Amos.</p> +<p>"Look at him, gentlemen. Speak to him for me—for I cannot. +I ask you to note the condition he's in." Here, again, the Colonel +burst into tears. "And, oh, my God!" he sobbed, "could they ask me +to trust myself to a drunken rowdy of a driver, even if I +<i>was</i> going?" Amos was not only sober, he was a shrewd +observer of events, a seasoned judge of men. He turned away without +further parley. Big Joe told him he ought to be in better business +than trying to break up a pleasant party.</p> +<p>As the 'bus started, the strains of "Auld Lang Syne" floated to +us again, and we knew the day was lost.</p> +<p>"A hand of iron in a cunning little velvet glove," said Westley +Keyts, in deep disgust as he left us. "It looks to me a darned +sight more like a hand of mush in a glove of the <i>same!</i>"</p> +<p>I have often been brought to realize that the latent nobility in +our human nature is never so effectually aroused as at the second +stage of alcoholic dementia. The victim sustains a shock of +illumination hardly less than divine. On a sudden he is vividly +cognizant of his overwhelming spiritual worth. Dazed in the first +moment of this flooding consciousness, he is presently to be heard +recalling instances of his noble conduct under difficulty, of +righteous fortitude under strain. Especially does he find himself +endowed with the antique virtues—with courage and a rugged +fidelity, a stainless purity of motive, a fond and measureless +generosity.</p> +<p>To this stage the libations of Potts had now brought him. He +began to refresh the crowd with comments upon his own worth, +interspersed with kindly but hurt appreciations of the great +world's lack of discernment. He besought and defied each gentleman +present to recall an occasion, however trivial, when his conduct +had fallen short of the loftiest standards. Especially were they +begged to cite an instance when he had deviated in the least degree +from a line of strictest loyalty to any friend. Big Joe Kestril was +overcome at this. He broke down and wept out upon the shoulder of +Potts his hopeless inability to comply with that outrageous +request. The entire crowd became emotional, and a dozen lighted +matches were thrust forward toward an apparently incombustible +cigar with which Potts had long striven.</p> +<p>Recovering from these first ravages of his self-analysis, the +Colonel became just a bit critical.</p> +<p>"But you see, boys, a man of my attributes is hampered and kept +down in a one-horse place like this. Remarks have been passed about +me here that I should blush to repeat. I say it in confidence, but +I have again and again been made the sport of a wayward and wanton +ridicule. I say, gentlemen, I have always conducted myself as only +a Potts knows how to conduct himself—and yet I have been +pestered by cheap flings at my personal bearing. Is this courtesy, +is it common fairness, is it the boasted civilization of our +nineteenth century?"</p> + +<p class="figure"><a href="images/illp027t.jpg"><img width="40%" +src="images/illp027t.jpg" alt= +"AND YET I HAVE BEEN PESTERED BY CHEAP FLINGS AT MY PERSONAL BEARING." /> +</a></p> +<center><h5>"AND YET I HAVE BEEN PESTERED BY CHEAP FLINGS AT MY PERSONAL +BEARING."</h5></center> + +<p>Hoarse expressions of incredulity, of execration, of disgust, +came from the crowd as it raised glasses once more. The Colonel +glared down the sloppy length of the bar, then gazed aloft into the +smoky heights. The crowd waited for him to say something.</p> +<p>"This is a beautiful day, gentlemen. A fine, balmy spring day. +Let us be out and away to mossy dells. Why stay in this low +drinking-place when all Nature beckons? Come on back to +Hoffmuller's. Besides,"—he cast a reproachful look at the +bar-tender,—"the hospitality of this place is not what an +upright citizen of this great republic has a right to expect when +he's throwing his good money right and left."</p> +<p>He marched out in hurt dignity, followed by his train, many of +whom, in loyalty to their host, sneered openly at the bar-tender as +they passed.</p> +<p>Outside the Colonel poised himself in gala attitude, and +benignantly surveyed our quiet little Main Street in both +directions. Across the way in the door of the First National Bank +stood Asa Bundy, a look of interest on his face.</p> +<p>The Colonel's sweeping glance halted upon Bundy. With a glad cry +he started across to him, but Bundy, beholding the move, fled +actively inside. The Colonel reached the door of the bank and tried +the knob, but the key had been turned in the lock, and the next +moment the curtains of the door were swiftly drawn. "Bank Closed" +was printed upon them in large gold letters.</p> +<p>Potts stepped aside to look into the window, and the curtain of +that descended relentlessly. The bank had suddenly taken on an +aspect of Sabbath blankness. Once more the Colonel rattled the +knob, then he turned to his gathering followers.</p> +<p>"Gentlemen, I came here to press the hand of one of Nature's +noblemen, my tried friend, the Honorable Asa Bundy, whom we have +just seen retreating to his precincts, as I might say, with a +modesty that is rarely beautiful. But no matter." Here the Colonel +mounted the top step and glowed out upon his faithful and ever +enlarging band.</p> +<p>"Instead, my friends, allow me to read you this splendid tribute +from Bundy, and I trust that after this I shall never hear one of +you utter a word in his disparagement."</p> +<p>Rapidly fluttering the packet of letters, he drew out one +bearing the imprint of the First National Bank of Little Arcady. +The crowd, pressing closer, was cheerfully animated. From down the +street on both sides anxious looks were bent upon the scene by many +of our leading citizens.</p> +<p>"'To Whom it May Concern,'" began the Colonel, in a voice that +carried to the confines of our business centre; "'The determination +of our esteemed citizen, Colonel J. Rodney Potts, to remove from +our town makes it fitting that I record my high appreciation of his +character as a man and his unusual attainments as a lawyer. His +going will be a grievous loss to our community, atoned for only by +the knowledge that he will better himself in a field of richer +opportunities. He has proved himself to possess in full measure +those qualities which go to the making of the best American +citizenship, and these, as exercised in our behalf during his all +too-short sojourn among us, entitle him to be cordially commended +as worthy of all trust in any position to which he may aspire. Very +sincerely, A. Bundy, President.'"</p> +<p>Again and again the crowd cheered, and there were encouraging +calls for Bundy; but the First National Bank stolidly preserved its +Sabbath front.</p> +<p>A moment later the Colonel was leading his steadfast cohort +across the street again. Marvin Chislett had unwarily peeped from +inside the door of his mercantile establishment. There was but time +to turn the key and draw the curtains before the procession halted. +Such behavior may have perplexed Potts, but daunt him it could not. +From Chislett's top step he read Chislett's letter to the delighted +throng, a letter in which Potts was said to bear an unblemished +reputation, and to be a gentleman and a scholar, amply meriting any +trust that might be reposed in him.</p> +<p>From Chislett's they moved on to the foot of the stairs leading +to the <i>Argus</i> office. Potts sent Big Joe up for twenty-five +copies of the latest number, and, standing on the coal box, he +gallantly distributed these to the crowd as it filed before him, +intoning from memory, meantime, snatches of the eulogy, while the +crowd flourished the papers and gurgled noisily.</p> +<p>A brief plunge into the lethal flood at Skeyhan's, and they came +once more abroad, this time closing the Boston Cash Store most +expeditiously. Potts, enthroned upon a big box in front, among +bolts of muslin, straw hats, and bunches of innocent early lettuce, +read the splendid tribute of the store's proprietor to his capacity +as an expert in jurisprudence and his fitness for a seat of +judicial honor. The bank and Chislett's being still closed, the +little street, except in the near vicinity of Potts, began to sleep +in a strange calm.</p> +<p>There were other doors to conquer, however, and Potts, at the +head of his <i>Argus</i>-waving crowd of degenerates, vanquished +them all.</p> +<p>Up and down he wandered busily, doors closing and curtains +falling swiftly at his approach. Then would he turn majestically, +and say, with a hand raised, "My friends, a moment's silence, while +I read you this magnificent tribute from one who is unfortunately +not among us."</p> +<p>He was so impressive with this that at last the crowd would +remove hats at each reading, to the Colonel's manifest approval. +The doffed hat and the clutched <i>Argus</i> became the mark of his +drink-bought serfs. By four o'clock the only hospitable doorways on +the street were those of the three saloons. Our leading business +men were departing from their establishments by back doors and the +secrecy of gracious alleys.</p> +<p>From Skeyhan's to Hoffmuller's, from Hoffmuller's to the City +Hotel, the crowd sang and shouted its irregular progress, the air +being "Auld Lang Syne."</p> +<p>It was about this time that the Colonel unhappily caught a +glimpse of myself through the window of the hotel. A glad light +came into his eyes, and at once he searched among the letters, +crying, meanwhile: "My brother in arms! A younger brother, but a +gallant officer, none the less—"</p> +<p>I knew that he sought my letter. Egress from the City Hotel may +be achieved, when desirable, by a side door, and I saw no more of +Potts that day. I believe my letter spoke of him as an able and +graceful pleader, meriting judicial honors, or something of that +sort. I had forgotten its exact words, but I did not wish to hear +Potts read them. So I fled to spend the remainder of that eventful +day quietly among rosebushes and tender, budding hyacinths, +unspotted of the world, receiving, however, occasional bulletins of +the orgy from passers-by. From these and sundry narratives gleaned +the following day, I was able to trace the later hours of this +scandalous saturnalia.</p> +<p>By six o'clock Potts had spent all his money. By six-fifteen +this fact could no longer be concealed, and such of his following +as had not already fallen by the wayside crept, one by one, to +rest. They left the Colonel dreamily, murmurously happy in a chair +at the end of the City Hotel bar.</p> +<p>Here, he was discovered about six-thirty by Eustace Eubanks, who +had incautiously thought to rebuke him.</p> +<p>"For shame, Colonel Potts!" began Eustace, seeking to fix the +uncertain eyes with his finger of scorn. "For shame to have +squandered all that money for rum. Don't you know, sir, that a +hundred and sixty thousand men die yearly in our land from the +effects of rum?"</p> +<p>"Hundred sixty thousand!" mused the Colonel, in polite +amazement. "Well, well, figures can't lie! What of it?"</p> +<p>"You have dishonestly spent that money given to you in sacred +trust."</p> +<p>This seemed to arouse Potts, and he surveyed Eubanks with more +curiosity than delight. He arose, buttoned his coat, fixed his hat +firmly upon his head, and took up his stick and bag. He put upon +Eustace a glance of dignified urbanity, as he spoke.</p> +<p>"I don't know who you are, sir,—never saw you before in my +life,—but I have done what every good citizen should do. I +have spent my money at home. This is a cheap place, full of cheap +men. What the town needs, sir, is capital—capital to develop +its attributes and industries. It needs more men with the public +spirit of J. Rodney, sir. I bid you good evening! Ah, this has been +indeed a <i>beautiful day</i>!"</p> +<p>He walked out. Those who watched him until he turned out of Main +Street into Fourth, and so toward the river, aver—marvelling +duly at his powers of resistance—that the head of Potts was +erect, his gaze bent aloft, and his gait one of perfect directness +save that he stepped a little high.</p> +<p>I like to think of him in that last walk. I like to bring up as +nearly as I can his intense exaltation. It <i>had</i> been a +beautiful day. And now, as he looked aloft, walking with an +automatic precision, his eyes must have beheld glorious vistas, in +which he rode a chariot of triumph at the head of a splendid +procession, while his ears rang with chaste tributes to his worth +trumpeted by outriding heralds. And the good earth was firm beneath +his tread, stretching broadly off for him to walk upon and behold +his apotheosis.</p> +<p>I cannot wonder that he stepped high, nor can I find it in my +heart to begrudge him his day. Cunningly had he clutched a few +golden moments from the hoard that Fate, the niggard, guards from +us so jealously. To myself I acclaimed him as one to be envied.</p> +<p>I have always liked to believe that the splendors of that last +walk endured to the end—that there was no uncertainty, no +hesitation, above all, no vulgar stumbling; but that the last high +step, which plunged him into the chill waters of the race, was +lifted in the same exulting serenity as the first.</p> +<p>I stood in my garden that evening, charmed by the wild, sweet, +gusty-gentle music of the spring night.</p> +<p>Northward, in the gathering dusk, came a solitary figure walking +rapidly—a slight, nervous figure, a soft hat drawn well over +the face, the skirts of its coat streaming to the breeze. As it +passed me, I recognized Solon Denney. He was gesticulating with +some violence, and I could see his expressive face work as if he +uttered words to himself. I thought it possible that he might be +composing a piece for his newspaper. Instantly there came to my +mind that rather coarse paraphrase of Westley Keyts—"A hand +of mush in a glove of the <i>same</i>!"</p> +<p>I did not intrude upon my friend as he passed.</p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CH3">CHAPTER III</a></h2> +<center>THE PERFECT LOVER</center> +<p>To the crime of being Potts the wretched Colonel had now added +malversation of a trust fund. But I crave surcease, while it may be +mine, from the immediately troubling waters of Potts. Let me turn +more broadly to our town and its good people for that needed +recreation which they never fail to afford me.</p> +<p>"Arcady of the Little Country," we often say. On maps it is +Little Arcady, county seat of Slocum County, an isle and haven in +the dreary land sea that flattens away from it on every +side,—north to the big woods, south to the swamp counties, +and east and west, one might almost say, a thousand miles to the +mountains. Our point is one from which to say either "back East" or +"out West." It is neither, of itself, though it touches both.</p> +<p>We are so ancient that plenty of us remember the stone fireplace +in the log-cabin, with its dusters for the hearth of buffalo tail +and wild-turkey wing, with iron pot hung by a chain from the +chimney hook, with pewter or wooden plates from which to eat with +horn-handled knives and iron spoons. But yet are we so modern that +we have fine new houses with bay windows, ornamental cupolas, and +porches raving woodenly in that frettish fever which the infamous +scroll-saw put upon fifty years of our land's domestic +architecture. And these houses are furnished with splendid modern +furniture, even with black walnut, gold touched and upholstered in +blue plush and maroon, fresh from the best factories. Our fairly +old people remember when they hunted deer and were hunted by the +red Indian on our town site, while their grandchildren have only +the memories of the town-born, of the cottage-organ, the novel +railroad, and the two-story brick block with ornamental false +front. In short, we round an epoch within ourselves, historically +and socially.</p> +<p>The country, however, keeps its first purity of charm, a country +of little hills and little valleys lined with little quick rivers. +These beauties, indeed, have not gone unsung. Years ago a woman +poet eased her heart of ecstasies about this Little Country.</p> +<p>"Here swells the river in its boldest course," she wrote, +"interspersed by halcyon isles on which Nature has lavished all her +prodigality in tree, vine, and flower, banked by noble bluffs three +hundred feet high, their sharp ridges as exquisitely definite as +the edge of a shell; their summits adorned with those same +beautiful trees and with buttresses of rich rock, crested with old +hemlocks that wear a touching and antique grace amid the softer and +more luxuriant vegetation."</p> +<p>Not spectacular, this—not sensational—not even +unusual. Common enough little hills, as the world goes, with the +usual ragged-edged village between them and the river, peopled by +human beings entirely usual both in their outer and inner lives. It +seems to be, indeed, not a place in which events could occur with +any romantic fitness.</p> +<p>Perhaps I have grown to love this Little Country because I am a +usual man. Perhaps I would have felt as much for it even had I not +been held to it by a memory that would bind me to any spot +howsoever unlovely. But I rejoiced always in its beauty, and more +than ever when it made easier for me the only life it once appeared +that I should live. I quote again from our visiting poet: "The +aspect of this country was to me enchanting beyond any I have ever +seen, from its fulness of expression, its bold and impassioned +sweetness. Here the flood has passed over and marked everywhere its +course by a smile. The fragments of rock touch it with a mildness +and liberality which give just the needed relief. I should never be +tired here, though I have elsewhere seen country of more secret and +alluring charms, better calculated to stimulate and suggest. Here +the eye and heart are filled."</p> +<p>Here, too, my eye and heart were filled—emptied—and +wondrously filled yet again, for which last I hold Potts to be +curiously—but I wander.</p> +<p>Enough to say that I stored a harvest of memories in a secret +place here years ago. And I went to this on days when I was +downhearted. Your boy of fifteen, I think, is the only perfect +lover—giving all, demanding nothing, save, indeed, the right +to his secret cherishings.</p> +<p>Tremors, born within me that day when old gray, bristling +Leggett, our Principal, opened the schoolroom door upon Lucy Tait, +are as poignant, as sweetly terrible, now as in that far time when +the light of her wondrous presence first fell upon me.</p> +<p>An instant she hesitated timidly in the sombre frame of the +doorway, looking far over our heads. Then old Leggett came in front +of her. There was a word of presentation to Miss Berham, our +teacher, the vision was escorted to a seat at my left front, and I +was bade to continue the reading lesson if I ever expected to learn +anything. As a matter of truth I did not expect to learn anything +more. I thought I must suddenly have learned all there is to know. +The page of the ancient reader over which I then mumbled is now +before me. "A Good Investment" was the title of the day's lesson, +and I had been called upon to render the first paragraph. With +lightness, unrecking the great moment so perilously at hand, I had +begun: "'Will you lend me two thousand dollars to establish myself +in a small retail business?' inquired a young man, not yet out of +his teens of a middle-aged gentleman who was poring over his ledger +in the counting room of one of the largest establishments in +Boston."</p> +<p>The iron latch rattled, the door swung fatefully back, our heads +were raised, our eyes bored her through and through.</p> +<p>Then swung a new world for me out of primeval chaos, and for +aeons of centuries I dizzied myself gazing upon the pyrotechnic +marvel.</p> +<p>"<i>Continue, Calvin!</i>—if you ever expect to learn +anything."</p> +<p>The fabric of my vision crumbled. Awake, I glared upon a page +where the words ran crazily about like a disrupted colony of ants. +I stammered at the thing, feeling my cheeks blaze, but no two words +would stay still long enough to be related. I glanced a piteous +appeal to authority, while old Leggett, still standing by, crumpled +his shaven upper lip into a professional sneer that I did not +like.</p> +<p>"That will <i>do</i>, Calvin. Sit down! Solon Denney, you may go +on."</p> +<p>With careless confidence, brushing the long brown lock from his +fair brow, came Solon Denney to his feet. With flawless +self-possession he read, and I, disgraced, cowering in my seat, +heard words that burned little inconsequential brands forever into +my memory. Well do I recall that the middle-aged gentleman regarded +the young man with a look of surprise, and inquired, "What security +can you give me?" to which the latter answered, "Nothing but my +note."</p> +<p>"'Which I fear would be below par in the market,' replied the +merchant, smiling.</p> +<p>"'Perhaps so,' said the young man, 'but, Mr. Barton, remember +that the boy is not the man; the time may come when Hiram +Strosser's note will be as readily accepted as that of any other +man.'</p> +<p>"'True, very true,' replied Mr. Barton, thoughtfully, 'but you +know business men seldom lend money without adequate security; +otherwise they might soon be reduced to penury.'"</p> +<p>"Benny Jeliffe, you may go on!"</p> +<p>During this break I stole my second look at her. The small head +was sweetly bent with an air of studious absorption—a head +with two long plaits of braided gold, a scarlet satin bow at the +end of each.</p> +<p>It seems to me now that these bows were like the touch of +frosted woodbine in a yellowing elm, though at the moment I must +have been unequal to this fancy. I saw, too, the tiny chain that +clasped her fair throat, her dress of pale blue, and, most +wonderful of all, two tassels that danced from the tops of her trim +little boots. The air was indeed too heavy with beauty. But the +reading lesson continued.</p> +<p>The years that stretch between that time and this have not +bereaved me of the knowledge that Mr. Barton graciously +accommodated Hiram Strosser, after vainly seeking to induce "Mr. +Hawley, a wealthy merchant of Milk Street," to share half the +risk.</p> +<p>At this point a row of stars on the page indicated a lapse of +ten years. Mr. Barton, "pale and agitated," examines with deepening +despair, "page after page of his ponderous ledger." At last he +exclaims, "I am ruined, utterly ruined!" "How so?" inquires Hiram +Strosser, who enters the room just in time to hear the cry. Mr. +Barton explains,—the failure of Perleg, Jackson & Co. of +London—news brought on last steamer—creditors pressing +him.</p> +<p>"'What amount would tide you over this crisis?' asks Hiram +Strosser, respectfully.</p> +<p>"'Seventy-five thousand dollars!'</p> +<p>"'Then, sir, you shall have it,' replied Hiram, and stepping to +the desk he drew a check for the full amount."</p> +<p>Nor can I ever forget the stroke of poetic justice with which +the anecdote concluded. Mr. Hawley of Milk Street was also +embarrassed by the failure of Perleg, Jackson & Co., but, for +want of a trustful friend in funds, was thrown into bankruptcy. Mr. +Barton had the chastened pleasure of telling Mr. Hawley about +Hiram's loan, and of reminding him that he had neglected a fair +opportunity to become a co-benefactor of that upright and +open-handed youth; whereupon the ruined Hawley—deservedly +ruined, the tale implied—"moved on, dejected and sad, while +Mr. Barton returned to his establishment cheered and animated."</p> +<p>The gross, the immoral romanticism of this tale was not then, of +course, apparent to me. Children are so defenceless! Child that I +was, I believed it would be entirely practicable for a lad in his +teens to borrow two thousand dollars from a Boston merchant, by +reminding him that the boy is not the man. So readily is the young +mind poisoned. During the latter part of the lesson, between looks +stolen fearfully at her profile, I was mentally engaged in +borrowing two thousand dollars from a convenient Mr. Barton with +which to establish myself in a small retail +business—preferably a candy store with an ice-cream parlor in +the rear. Then I took her to wife, not forgetting to reward Mr. +Barton handsomely in the day of his ruin. Dimly, in the background +of this hasty dramatization, the distrustful Mr. Hawley, who +refused to share the loan with Mr. Barton, figured as a rival for +my love's hand; and lived to hear her say that she hated, loathed, +and despised him.</p> +<p>At recess the others crowded about her, girls at the centre, +within a straggling circumference of young males, who dissembled +their gallantry under a pretence of being mere brutal +marauders.</p> +<p>But I, solitary, moped and gloomed in a far grassy corner of the +school yard. I could not be of that crowd, and it was then I +perceived for the first time that the world was too densely +populated. I saw how much better it would be if every one but she +and I were dead. Thereupon, in a breath, I dispeopled the earth of +all but us two, and with the courage gained of this solitude, I saw +myself approach her there at the corner of the old brick +schoolhouse, greeting her with assurances that everything was all +right,—and then, after she understood what I had done, and +how fine it was, we came into our own. Alas, how bitter the crude +truth! Instead of this, those wondrous tassels now danced from her +boot tops as she gave chase to Solon Denney, who had pulled one of +the scarlet bows from its yellow braid. Grimly I was aware that he +should be the first to go out of the world, and I called upon a +just heaven to slay him as he fled with his trophy. But nothing +sweet and fitting happened. He went unblasted.</p> +<p>She came back to the group of girls, flushed and lovely beyond +compare, holding up the ravished end of that golden braid with a +comic dismay, while her despoiler laughed coarsely from a distance +and pinned the trophy to his coat lapel. I now saw that blasting +was too merciful. He should be removed by a slower process if the +thing could as easily be arranged.</p> +<p>That was a bitter recess, even though I learned her wonderful +name and the enchanted state "back East" from which she had come. A +still more bitter experience awaited me when we were again in the +schoolroom. Miss Berham, fastening a steely gaze upon Solon Denney, +launched heaven upon him from tightly drawn lips, without in the +least meaning to do so.</p> +<p>"Solon Denney, you may return that ribbon at once to its +owner!"</p> +<p>With a conscious smirk, amid the titters of the room and the +sharp raps of the ruler on Miss Berham's desk, Solon swaggered +offensively to the seat that enshrined my idol, and flung down the +scarlet treasure before her. She merely pushed the thing away, +bending her head lower above her book—pushed it away with a +blind little hand, and with undiminished bravado her despoiler +returned, scathless of heaven's vengeance, to his seat.</p> +<p>"And you may remain half an hour after school. The A-class, +ready for geography!"</p> +<p>Thus, lightly did our ruler turn from tragedy to comedy. For +tragedy, there was the look my queen lavished upon Solon when she +heard his sentence; a look of blushing merriment, with a maddening +dash of pity in it,—he was to suffer because of her.</p> +<p>"'Twas your beauty that made me do it," he might have quoted, +with the old result. How I longed for the jaunty lightness that +would have let me do a thing like that, tossing me fairly to the +pinnacle of a public association with her! But I, instead, moped +alone, knowing well that the gifts of graceful brigandage were not +mine. Had <i>I</i> snatched that ribbon, there would have been +tears and a mad outcry at my brutal roughness.</p> +<p>Now came the lesson in geography. I had known it, had studied it +faithfully that morning. It treated of the state from which she had +so lately come. But, now, all knowledge of it fled me, save that on +the map it was a large, clumsy state, though yellow, the color of +her hair. Was it to be bounded like any cheaper state? Did it have +principal products, like Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont, and other +ordinary states? Its color was rightly golden; had it not produced +her? But other products,—iron, coal, wheat,—these were +stuffs too base to fellow in the same mind with her. Had it +principal industries, like any red, or green, or blue state on that +pedantic map? I could no longer recall them. Formally confronted +with this problem, I muttered shamefully again that day in the +valley of Humiliation. There was, I knew, a picture at the top of +the page in which strong, rugged men toiled at various tasks; but +the natures of these had escaped me. Were they mining coal or +building ships, catching fish or ploughing furrows in God's green +earth? Out of my darkness I stammered, "Principal industries, +agriculture and fish-building—"</p> +<p>"That will <i>do</i>, Calvin! You may remain after school +to-night." I had never less liked the way she said this, as if it +were a boon at which I would snatch, instead of a penalty +imposed.</p> +<p>Solon Denney followed me, glibly enumerating the industries of a +great and busy state. But I could not listen. Phantom-like in my +poor mind floated a wordless conviction that, however it might once +have been, the state would immediately abandon its industries now +that she had come away from it. I beheld its considerable area +desolated, the forges cold, the hammers stilled, the fields +overgrown, the ships rotting at their docks, the stalwart mechanics +drooping idly above their unfinished tasks. It was not possible to +suppose that any one could feel, in a state which she had left, +that interest which good work demands.</p> +<p>My disgrace brought me respite for fresh adventure. I was let +alone. The world could still be peopled; even Solon Denney might +survive a little time, for another picture in the same geography +now reproduced itself in my inflamed mind—the picture of a +South Sea island, a sandy beach with a few indolent natives +lolling, negligent of tasks, in the shade of cocoanut palms. Here, +on the outer reef, I wrecked an excellent steamship. Over the rail +sprang a stalwart lad, not out of his teens, with a lovely +golden-haired girl in his arms. With strong, swift strokes, he +struck out for the beach, notwithstanding his burden. The other +passengers, a hazy and quite uninteresting lot, quickly went down; +all save one, a coarse, swaggering youth with too much +self-possession whom I need not name. He, too, sprang over the +rail, but, nearing the beach, a justly enraged providence +intervened and he was bitten neatly in two by a famished and adroit +shark.</p> +<p>With some interest I watched his blood stain the lucid green +waters, but it was soon over. Then I bore my fainting burden to the +dry sands and revived her with cocoanut milk and breadfruit, while +the natives crowded respectfully about and made us their king and +queen on the spot. We lived there forever. How flat of sound were +it to say that we lived happily!</p> +<p>And yet I doubt if Solon Denney ever suspected me of aspiring to +be his rival. She, I think, knew it full well, in the way her sex +knows matters not communicated by act or word of mouth. And once, +on the afternoon of that day, a Friday, when we spoke pieces, I +feared that Solon had found me out. He was a fiery orator, and I +felt on this occasion that he delivered himself straight at me, +with a very poorly veiled malignance. Surely, it must be I that he +meant, literally, when he thundered out, "Sir, you are much +mistaken if you think your talents have been as great as your life +has been reprehensible!" Fall upon me and upon me alone seemed to +flash his gaze.</p> +<p>"After a rank and clamorous opposition you became—all of a +sudden—silent; you were silent for seven years; you were +silent on the greatest questions—and you were silent <i>for +money!</i>"</p> +<p>There could be no doubt, I thought, that he singled me from the +multitude of his auditors. It was I who had supported the +unparalleled profusion and jobbing of Lord Harcourt's scandalous +ministry; I who had manufactured stage thunder against Mr. Eden for +his anti-American principles—"You, sir, whom it pleases to +chant a hymn to the immortal Hampden—you, sir, approved of +the tyranny exercised against America, and you, sir, voted four +thousand Irish troops to cut the throats of the Americans."</p> +<p>Under the burden of this imputed ignominy, was it remarkable +that I faltered in my own piece immediately following?</p> +<blockquote> +<p>"The Warrior bowed his crested head, and tamed his heart of +fire,<br /> +And sued the haughty King to free his long imprisoned sire."</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Not more foully was the blameless Don Sancho done to death than +I upon this Friday murdered the ballad that recounts his fate. And +she, who had hung breathless on Solon's denunciations of me, +whispered chattily with Eva McIntyre during my rendition of +"Bernardo del Carpio."</p> +<p>Later events, however, convinced me that I swam never in Solon's +ken as a rival for her smiles. His own triumph was too easy, too +widely heralded. In the second week of her coming, was there not a +rhyme shouted on the playground, full in the hearing of both?</p> +<blockquote> +<p>"First the post and then the gate,<br /> +Solon Denney and Lucy Tait."</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Was not this followed by one more subtle, more pointed, more +ribald?</p> +<blockquote> +<p>"Solon's mad and I'm glad,<br /> +and I know what will please him;<br /> +a bottle of wine to make him shine<br /> +and Lucy Tait to tease him!"</p> +</blockquote> +<p>I thought there was an inhuman, devilish deftness in the rhymes. +The mighty mechanism of English verse had been employed to proclaim +my remoteness from my love.</p> +<p>And yet the gods were once graciously good to me. One wondrous +evening before hope died utterly I survived the ordeal of walking +home with her from church.</p> +<p>She came with her aunt, uncle, and I present by the god's +permission, surmised that she might leave them and go to her own +home alone when church was out. Through that service I worshipped +her golden braids and the pink roses on her leghorn hat. And when +they sang, "Praise God from whom all blessings flow!" my voice +soared fervently in the words, for I had satisfied myself by much +craning of the neck that Solon Denney was not present. Even now the +Doxology revives within me that mixed emotion of relief at his +absence and apprehension for the approaching encounter with +her.</p> +<p>She passed me at the portals of the house of a double worship, +said good night to aunt and uncle—and I was at her side.</p> +<p>"May I have the pleasure of seeing you home?"</p> +<p>She managed a timid "Certainly." her hand fluttered within my +arm, and my heart bounded forward like a freed race-horse. We +walked!</p> +<p>Now it had been my occupation at quiet moments to devise +conversation against the time of this precise miracle. I had dreamt +that it might come to pass, even as it did, and I knew that talk +for it should be stored safely away. This talk had been the coinage +of my leisure. As we walked I would say, lightly,—"Do you +like it here as well as you did back East?"—or, still better, +as sounding more chatty,—"How do you like it here?"—an +easy, masterful pause—"as well as you did back East?" A +thousand times had I rehearsed the inflections until they were +perfect. And now the time was come.</p> +<p>Whether I spoke at all or not until we reached her gate I have +never known. Dimly in my memory is a suggestion that when we passed +Uncle Jerry Honeycutt, I confided to her that he sent to Chicago +for his ear-trumpet and that it cost twelve dollars. If I did this, +she must have made a suitable response, though I retain nothing of +it.</p> +<p>I only know that the sky was full of flaming meteors, that +golden star dust rained upon us from an applauding heaven, that the +earth rocked gently as we trod upon it.</p> +<p>Down the wonderful street we went, a strange street shimmering +in mystic light—and then I was opening her gate. I, +afterward, decided that surely at this moment, with the gate +between us, I would have remembered—superbly would I have +said, "How do you like it here?—as well as you did back +East?"</p> +<p>But, two staring boys passed us, and one of them spoke +thus:—</p> +<p>"There's Horsehead Blake—hello, Horsehead!"</p> +<p>"That ain't old Horsehead," said the other.</p> +<p>"'Tis, too—ain't that you, Horsehead?"</p> +<p>"How do you do, boys!" I answered loftily, and they passed on +appeased.</p> +<p>"Do they call you Horsehead?" she asked.</p> +<p>"Oh, yes!" I replied brightly. "It's a funny name, isn't it?" +and I laughed murderously.</p> +<p>"Yes, it's very funny."</p> +<p>"Well, I'll have to be going now. Good night!"</p> +<p>"Good night!"</p> +<p>And she left me staring after her, the whole big world and its +starry heavens crying madly within me to be said to her.</p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CH4">CHAPTER IV</a></h2> +<center>DREAMS AND WAKINGS</center> +<p>The incomparable Lucy Tait was still but a star to be adored in +her distant heaven when I went away from Little Arcady to learn +some things not taught in the faded brick schoolhouse. It was six +years before I came back; six years that I lived in a crowded place +where people had no easy ways nor front yards with geranium beds, +nor knew enough of their neighbors either to love or to hate +them.</p> +<p>I came back to the Little Country a mannish being, learned in +the law, and with the right sort of laugh in my heart for the old +school days, for the simplicity of my boy's love.</p> +<p>But, there and then, with her old sweet want of pity, did she +smite me again. Through and through she smote the man as she had +smitten the boy. Treacherously it was, within my own citadel, at +the very moment of my coming. Gayly up the remembered path I went, +under the flowering horse-chestnut, to the little house standing +back from the street, only to find that, as of old, she blocked my +way. She stood where the pink-blossomed climber streamed up the +columns of the little porch, and her arm was twined among the +strands to draw them to her face. She was leaving,—but she +had stayed too long; not the child with yellow braids, humorously +preserved in my memory, but a blossomed, a fruiting Eve, with +whilom braids massed high in a coronet, their gold a little +tarnished. Later it came to me to think that she was Spring, and +had filched a crown from Autumn. In that first glance, however, I +could only wonder instinctively if the tassels yet danced from her +boot tops. I saw at once that this might not any longer be known. +One could only surmise pleasantly. But straightway was I Atlas, +stooping a little, rounding my shoulders under the earth she +deigned to walk upon.</p> +<p>And the disconcerting strangeness of it was in this: that though +she was no longer the woman child, yet with one flash of her +gold-curtained eyes had she reduced me to my ancient schoolboy +clumsiness. She was a woman, but, I was again an awkward, +stammering boy, rebelliously declining to believe that a state she +had come away from could retain any significance, industrial or +otherwise. Nor, in the little time left to us, did I ever achieve a +condition higher than this.</p> +<p>Consciously I was a prince of lofty origin in her presence, but +ever unable to make known my excellencies of rank. It was as in a +dream when we must see evil approach without power to raise an +averting hand.</p> +<p>She was Spring with a stolen crown of Autumn; and again, she was +a sherbet—sweet, fragrant, cold, and about to melt—but +not for me. I knew that.</p> +<p>I heard presently that she spoke well of me. She spoke of my +having a kind face—even the kindest face in the world.</p> +<p>"The <i>kindest, plainest</i> face in the world," was her +fashion of putting it. And of course that made it hopeless, since, +surely, no woman has ever loved the kindest face she knew.</p> +<p>Only a fool would have hoped after this—and at least I +never gave her ground to call me that. Not even did I commit the +folly of revealing my need. She alone ever knew it, and she only in +the way that the child had known the schoolboy to gloom and rage +afar in his passion for her. She had no word of mine for it then, +nor had she now, and I believe she felt rather certain there never +would be any. She seemed to be grateful for this and doubly kind, +with only now and then the flash of a knowing look, or the trifle +of a deep, swiftly questioning glance, born, I dare say, of that +curiosity which the devil contrives to kindle in God's most angelic +women.</p> +<p>Doubtless she had a little speech of refusal patted into +kindliness for me. Perhaps she would not have been wholly anguished +to have me hear this—to be able to assure me tenderly, +graciously, of the depth and pureness of her friendship for me. Who +knows? I am older now, and things once hidden are revealed. +Sometimes I think that a certain new respect for me grew within her +as the days tried the metal of my silence—a respect, but +nothing more. Her appreciation of my face was too palpably without +those reservations that so often cry louder than words.</p> +<p>So we sealed our secret, she and I, in an unspoken pledge, and +not even Solon Denney, so keen of scent for rivals, ever divined +it.</p> +<p>He called me out with the old boyish whistle the day he confided +to me the tremendous news of his engagement. He laughed, foolish +with joy as he told it, and I felt tingling in my arms that old +boyish, brute impulse to slay him for the wretched ease of his +victory. But we were men, so I thrust one of those rebellious arms +in among the strands of the creeper, where her own arm had once +been, and laid the other on his shoulder in all friendliness. This, +while he rambled on of the bigness of life, the great future before +Arcady of the Little Country, the importance of the <i>Argus</i>, +which he had just founded, and the supreme excellence of that +splendid mechanism, the new Washington hand-press, installed the +week before.</p> +<p>His life was builded of these many interests, of her and himself +and his country and his town. In the fulness of his heart he even +brought out the latest <i>Argus</i> and read parts from his +obituary of Douglas, while I stood stupidly striving to realize +what I had long known must be true.</p> +<p>"A great man has fallen," he read, declaiming a little, as in +our school days. "Stephen A. Douglas is dead. The voice that so +lately and eloquently appealed to his countrymen is hushed +in—"</p> +<p>How long he read is uncertain. But from moment to moment his +tones would call me back from visions, and I would vaguely hear +that one was gone who had warned his fellows against the pitfalls +of political jealousy, and bade all who loved their country band +against those who would seek to pluck a laurel from the wreath of +our glorious confederacy.</p> +<p>But under visions I had made my resolve. Douglas was dead, but +others were living.</p> +<p>Two months before in a gray dawn, the walls of a fort in +Charleston Harbor had crumbled under fire from a score of rebel +batteries. Now the shots echoed in my ears with a new volume.</p> +<p>"Good luck, Solon—and good-by—I'm going 'on to +Richmond.'"</p> +<p>"Oh, <i>that!</i>" said he, easily, "that will be over before +you can get to the front."</p> +<p>But I went, forthwith, and, triumphant lover though he was, the +editor of the <i>Little Arcady Argus</i> was less than a +prophet.</p> +<p>I went to the "little" war; and of her I carried, as I marched, +an ambrotype in a closed case, which I had obtained deviously. She +smiled in it, a little questioning, inciting smile, that seemed to +lurk back in her eyes rather than along her lips. It was the smile +that had availed to keep me firm in my vows of silence.</p> +<p>It was another picture I brought back five years later—the +picture of a young girl, not smiling but grave, even fearful, as if +she had faced the camera full of apprehension. But I knew her not; +the thing had come to me by chance, and I threw it aside to be +forgotten.</p> +<p>It is best to tell quickly that those years were swift and full. +Early in the second a letter from Solon, read at a random +camp-fire, told me of my namesake's coming. For the other years I +pleased myself prodigiously by remembering that she must speak my +name openly to her first-born. And I lusted for battle, then. I was +an early Norseman, and I would escape the prosaic bed-death, since, +for those dying thus, Held waited in her chill prison-house below, +with hunger her dish, starvation her knife, care her bed, and +anguish her curtains. To survive for easy death, long deferred, +perhaps, I should have my empty dish and bed of care at once. +Lacking the battle death, I could at least mimic it, as they did of +old, that Odin's choosers of the slain might lead me to Valhalla. +There should I forever fight at dawn and be healed at noon, if +wounded, to be ready for the feast and song. The world was not big +enough for us two if we must stay apart. Life was not to be lived +in a beggarly and ignoble compromise. War was its business, bravery +its duty, and cowardice its greatest crime—above all, that +ultimate, puling cowardice of accepting life empty for its own +barren sake.</p> +<p>At the last I lay on a cot in a field hospital, entertained for +the moment by the novelty of that vacant, spacious feeling on my +left side—wondering if I could shave now with one +arm—without another hand to pull my face into hard little +hummocks for the razor.</p> +<p>I heard the soft quick tread of a hospital steward, and standing +before me, he took from its envelope the letter Solon Denney had +sent me to say that she was dead. I handed it back, told him to +burn it, and I shut my eyes to the sickening shapes of life. My +fever came up again, and in the night I felt inch by inch over +ground wet with blood for a picture I had relinquished in a +Quixotic moment. I must have been troublesome, for they gave me the +drug of dreams and I awakened peacefully. I watched the field +surgeons gather about a young line officer brought in with a shot +through his neck. For the better probing of the wound they removed +his head and gave it to me to hold. Seeing that it was Solon +Denney's head, I was seized with a mood of jest—I would hide +it and make Solon search. I advanced craftily down an endless +corridor, but came to the edge of a wood, where there was a wicked +spitting of shots. I cried out again, and once more they gave me +the drug. Then I dreamed more quietly. I saw that the soul of my +dead arm searched for her soul—that it would soon be drawn to +her and offer itself to comfort her and never, never leave her. It +would say, "At least take the arm, since you may have it without +the face." It seemed that my other arm should go to her, too. This +side of her there could be nothing for either to close upon. It +appeared to me that I fell asleep on this fancy and dreamt that I +awoke painfully to a poor, one-sided life, effortless, barren, +forbidding.</p> +<p>A year later I went back to the Little Country to be counsellor +at law to its people in time of need, and a father to Solon Denney +and his two children. Solon could direct large affairs acceptably, +but he and his babes were as thistle-down in a prairie wind.</p> +<p>He brought the children to visit me the first day that I came +home—to a home where I was now to live alone.</p> +<p>I sat on the little porch above the river bank, by the wall of +blossoming creeper whose tendrils she had once embraced, bringing +her cheek intrepidly against the blossoms of that year, and saw him +come slowly up the path. He seemed so sadly alone because of the +two little creatures that followed him.</p> +<p>I placed a chair for Solon and was confronted by my +namesake.</p> +<p>"Did they shoot your arm off in the war?" he asked.</p> +<p>"Yes, in the war."</p> +<p>He patted the empty sleeve, and his eyes beamed with +discovery.</p> +<p>"What did you have your sleeve rolled up for when your arm was +shot?"</p> +<p>I made plain to him the mystery of the whole sleeve.</p> +<p>"She often spoke of you," said Solon. "She seemed to think you +would like to be a help to us if you could."</p> +<p>I turned to greet the woman child, but she had strayed into the +house. I heard her shouts from my bedroom. Then she came running to +us, cooing in helpless joy.</p> +<p>"Candy—candy—Uncle Maje—lovely candy—all +pink and dusty."</p> +<p>Well over a face set with the mother's eyes was spilled that +which she had clutched and eaten of,—a thing pink and dusty, +in truth, but which was not candy.</p> +<p>"She does those things constantly," said the dejected father. "I +don't see what I can do to her."</p> +<p>I saw, however, and did it, first wiping the tooth-powder from +her face. She had called me Uncle Maje.</p> +<p>"She's a regular baddix," announced my namesake, gravely +judicial. Then, as if with intention to indicate delicately that +the family afforded striking contrasts, he added, "<i>I</i> ain't a +baddix—I can nearly sing."</p> +<p>The children fribbled about us while we talked away the +afternoon. The woman child at last put me to thinking—to +thinking that perhaps butterflies are not meant to be happily +caught. With many shouts she had clumsily enough imprisoned +one—a fairy thing of green and bronze—in a hand so +plump that it seemed to have been quilted. A moment she held it, +then set it free, perhaps for its lack of spirit. It crawled and +fluttered up the vine, trailing a crumpled wing most sadly, and I +took it for my lesson. Assuredly they were not to be caught with +any profit—at least not brutally in an eager hand. Brush them +ever so lightly and the bloom is off the wings. They are to be +watched in their pretty flitting, loved only in their freedom and +from afar, with no clumsy reachings. That was a good thing to know +in any world.</p> +<p>The <i>Argus</i> announced my home-coming with a fine flourish +of my title in Solon's best style. It said that I had come back to +take up the practice of the law. Not even Solon knew that I had +come back to the memory of her.</p> +<p>This is how it befell that I was presently engrossed to outward +seeming with the affairs of Little Arcady—even to the extent +of a casual Potts, and those blessed contingencies that were later +to unfold from him. Thus I took my allotted place and the years +began.</p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CH5">CHAPTER V</a></h2> +<center>A MAD PRANK OF THE GODS</center> +<p>A week after the publication of that blithe bit of acrimony +which opens this tale, Colonel J. Rodney Potts, recreated and natty +in a new summer suit of alpaca, his hat freshly ironed, sued the +town of Little Arcady for ten thousand dollar damages to his person +and announced his candidacy at the ensuing election for the +honorable office of Judge of Slocum County. He did this at the +earnest solicitation of his many friends, in whose hands he had +placed himself,—at least so read his card of announcement in +the <i>Banner</i>, our other paper. He did not name these +solicitous friends; but it was an easy suspicion that they were the +Democratic leaders, who thought by this means to draw votes from +the Republican candidate to the advantage of their own, who, +otherwise, was conceded to have no hope of election in a county +overwhelmingly Republican.</p> +<p>It may be told with adequate confidence that Westley Keyts was +not of their number. As to the damage suit, Westley found it +unthinkable that Potts could deteriorate ten thousand dollars worth +and still walk the earth. Indeed, he believed, and uttered a few +rough words to express it, that ten dollars would be an excessive +valuation even if Potts were utterly destroyed.</p> +<p>Being an earnest soul, Westley had taken the Potts affair very +seriously. He made it a point to encounter the Colonel on an early +day and to address him on Main Street in tones that lacked the +least affectation of suavity or diplomatic guile. He had seen +diplomacy tried and found wretchedly wanting. He would have no more +of it ever. Like the straightaway man he was, he went to the meat +of the matter.</p> +<p>"You squandered that hundred dollars we give you to git out of +town on," he burst forth to Potts, breathing with an ominous +difficulty.</p> +<p>"You just wait till you hear the worst of it," answered Potts, +as he confidingly dusted the shoulder of Westley's coat. "The worst +of it is I had over twelve dollars of my own money that I'd saved +up—you know how hard it is to save money in these little +towns—well, that went, too, <i>every cent of it!</i>"</p> +<p>It was admitted by witnesses competent to form an opinion that +Westley's contorted face, his troubled breathing, his manner of +stepping back, and the curious writhing of his stout arms, all +encouraged a supposition that he might be contemplating immediate +violence upon the person of Potts. At all events, this view was +taken by the aggrieved and puzzled Colonel, who fled through the +Boston Cash Store and, by means of a rear exit from that emporium, +gained the office of Truman Baird, Justice of the Peace, where he +swore to a legal document which averred that "the said Jonas R. +Potts" was "in fear of immediate and great bodily harm, which he +has reasonable cause to believe will be inflicted upon him by the +said Westley Keyts."</p> +<p>The majesty of the law being thus invoked, Westley was put under +a good and sufficient bond to refrain from "in any manner of +attacking or molesting the said Potts, against the statutes therein +made and provided, and against the peace and dignity of the State +of Illinois."</p> +<p>A proceeding so official somewhat dampened the fires of Mr. +Keyts. He was a citizen, law-abiding by intention, with a patriot's +esteem for government. It had merely not occurred to him that the +summary extinction of Potts could be a performance at all +incompatible with the peace and dignity of the great commonwealth +to which he was at heart loyal. Being convinced otherwise, he abode +grimly by the statutes therein made and provided. Nevertheless he +returned to his shop and proceeded to cut up a quarter of beef with +an energy of concentration and a ruthlessness of fury that caused +Potts to shudder as he passed the door sometime later. By such +demeanor, also, were the bondsmen of Westley—the first flush +of their righteous enthusiasm faded—greatly disturbed. They +agreed that he ought to be watched closely by day, and they even +debated the wisdom of sitting up nights with him for a time, turn +by turn. But their charge dissuaded them from this precaution. He +expended his first vicious fury usefully upon his stock in trade, +with knife and saw and cleaver, and thereafter he was but petulant +or sarcastic.</p> +<p>"I had the right of it," he insisted. "The only way to do with a +person like him was to git your feathers and your kittle of tar +cooked up all nice and gooey and git Potts on the ground and +<i>make a believer of him</i> right there and then!" This he +followed by his pointed reflection upon the administrative talents +of Solon Denney—"A hand of mush in a glove of the +<i>same</i>!" When listeners were not by, he would mutter it to +himself in sinister gutturals.</p> +<p>Nor was he alone in this spirit of dissatisfaction with Solon. +The too-trustful editor of the <i>Argus</i> was frankly derided. He +was a Boss at whom they laughed openly. They waited, however, with +interest for the subsequent issues of this paper.</p> +<p>The <i>Banner</i> that week contained the following bit of +news:—</p> +<blockquote> +<p>DASTARDLY ASSAULT IN BROAD DAYLIGHT</p> +<p>Early last Thursday evening, as Colonel J. Rodney Potts, dean of +the Slocum County bar, was enjoying a quiet stroll along our +beautiful river bank near Cady's mill, he was set upon by a gang of +ruffians and would have been foully dealt with but for his vigorous +resistance. Being a man of splendid proportions and a giant's +strength, the Colonel was making gallant headway against the +cowardly miscreants when his foot slipped and he was precipitated +into the chilling waters of the mill-race at a point where the city +fathers have allowed it to remain uncovered. Seeing their victim +plunged into a watery grave, as they thought, the thugs took to +their heels. The Colonel extricated himself from his perilous +plight, by dint of herculean strength, and started to pursue them, +but they had disappeared from sight in the vicinity of Crowder +& Fancett's lumber yard. Things have come to a pretty pass, we +must say, if such a dastardly outrage as this should be allowed to +go unpunished. Now that Colonel Potts has brought suit against the +city we suppose the council will have that mill-race covered. We +have repeatedly warned them about this. We wonder if they ever +heard a well-known saying about "locking the stable door after +horse is stolen," etc.</p> +<p>The card of Colonel Potts, printed elsewhere in this issue, is a +sufficient refutation of the malicious gossip that has been handed +back and forth lately that he had planned to leave Little Arcady. +It looks now like certain busybodies in this community had +over-stepped themselves and been hoisted up by their own petard. +The Colonel is a fine man for County Judge, and we bespeak for him +the suffrages of every voter who wants an honest judiciary.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Westley Keyts, reading this, wanted to know what a petard was. +Inquiry disclosed that he hoped it might be something that could be +used upon Potts to the advantage of almost every one concerned. But +in the minds of others of us an agonized suspicion now took form. +Had the letters been upon Potts when he went down? Had they been +saved? Were they legible? And would he use them?</p> +<p>It was decided that Solon Denney should try to illuminate this +point before taking the candidacy of Potts seriously. In the next +issue of the <i>Argus</i>, therefore, was this paragraph, meant to +be provocative:—</p> +<blockquote> +<p>God's providence has been said to watch over fools and +drunkards. We guess this is so; and that the pretensions of a +certain individual in our midst to its watchfulness in the double +capacity indicated can no longer be in doubt.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>These lines did their work. The next <i>Banner</i> spoke of a +foul conspiracy whose nefarious end it was to blacken the sterling +character of a good man, of that Nestor of the Slocum County Bar, +Colonel J. Rodney Potts. As testimony that the best citizens of the +town were not involved with this infamous ring, it had extorted +from Colonel Potts his consent to print certain letters from these +gentlemen setting forth the Colonel's surpassing virtues in no +uncertain terms—letters which his innate modesty had shrunk +from making public, until goaded to desperation by the hell-hounds +of a corrupt and subsidized opposition.</p> +<p>The letters followed in a terrific sequence—a series of +laudations which the Chevalier Bayard need not have scorned to +evoke.</p> +<p>Then we waited for Solon, but he was rather disappointing. Said +the next <i>Argus</i>:—</p> +<blockquote> +<p>We have heretofore considered J.R. Potts to possess the +anti-social instincts of a parasite without its moderate spirit of +enterprise. But we were wrong. We now concede the spirit of +enterprise. As for this candidacy of Potts, Horace Greeley once +said, commenting, we think, on some action of Weed's, "I like cool +things, of ordinary dimensions—an iceberg or a glacier; but +this arctic circle of coagulation appalls credulity and paralyzes +indignation. Hence my numbness!" Hence, also, our own numbness. +But, though Speech lieth prone on a paralytic's couch, ACTION is +hearty and stalketh willingly abroad. In this campaign it will +speak louder than words. Yea! it will be heard high above Noah +Webster's entire assemblage of such of them as are decent. That is +all! J.R.P., <i>take notice</i>!</p> +</blockquote> +<p>It was jaunty enough, but Potts had unquestionably gained a +following. Indeed he had ably cemented the foundations of one by +his magnificent hospitality on that day of days. His whilom serfs +were men not easily offended by faults of taste, and they were +voters. To a man they came out strongly for Potts.</p> +<p>He himself behaved with a faultless discretion. Above the slurs +of the <i>Argus</i> and the bickerings of faction he bore himself +as one alienated from earth by the graces of his spirit; and he +copiously promised deeds which should in the years to come be as a +beauteous garment to his memory. The glaive of Justice should +descend where erstwhile it had corruptly been stayed. Vice should +surfer its meed of retribution, and Virtue come again into its +glorious own.</p> +<p>Our letters of eulogy, printed at the <i>Banner</i> office, were +scattered among the voters, and with them went a letter from Potts +saying that if his strenuous labors as an attorney in the interests +of humanity, public morals, and common decency met with the voter's +approval, he would be gratified to have his good-will and +assistance. "It is such gentlemen as yourself," read the letter, +"constituting the best element of our society, to whom I must look +for the endorsement of my work. The criminal classes of this +community, whose minions have so recently sought my life by mob +violence, will leave no stone unturned to prevent my sitting as +Judge."</p> +<p>Our Democratic candidate, who had first felt but an academic +interest in the campaign, began now to show elation. Old Cuthbert +Mayne, the Republican candidate, who had been certain of success +but for the accident of Potts, chewed his unlighted cigar +viciously, and from the corner of his trap-like mouth spoke evil of +Potts in a voice that was terrifying for its hoarseness. His own +letter, among the others, told of Potts as one who sprang to arms +at his country's call and was now richly deserving of political +preferment. This had seemed to heighten the inflammation of his +utterances. Daily he consulted with Solon, warning him that the +town looked to the <i>Argus</i> to avert this calamity of +Potts.</p> +<p>But Solon, if he had formed any plan for relief, refused to +communicate it. Mayne and the rest of us were compelled to take +what hope we could from his confident if secretive bearing.</p> +<p>Meantime the <i>Banner</i> was not reticent about "J. Rodney +Potts, that gallant old war-horse." Across the top of its front +page each week stood "POTTS FOREVER—POTTS THE COMING +MAN!"</p> +<p>"Big Joe" Kestril was the chief henchman of Potts, and his +fidelity was like to have been fatal for him. He threw himself into +the campaign with a single-heartedness that left him few sober +moments. Upon the City Hotel corner, day after day, he buttonholed +voters and whispered to them with alcoholic fervor that Potts was a +gentleman of character, "as blotchless as the driftin' snow." Joe +believed in Potts pathetically.</p> +<p>The campaign wore its way through the summer, and Solon Denney +was still silent, still secretive, still confident, but, alas! +still inactive so far as we could observe. I may say that we lost +faith in him as the barren weeks came and went. We came to believe +that his assured bearing was but a shield for his real despair.</p> +<p>Having given up hope, some of us reached a point where we could +view the whole affair as a jest. It became a popular diversion to +enter the establishment of the ever serious Westley Keyts and +whisper secretively to him that Solon Denney had found a diplomatic +way to rid the town of Potts, but this never moved Westley.</p> +<p>"Once bit—twice shy!" would be his response as he returned +to slicing steaks.</p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CH6">CHAPTER VI</a></h2> +<center>A MATTER OF PERSONAL PROPERTY</center> +<p>In deference to the wishes of J.R.C. Tuckerman, I had formed a +habit of breakfasting in summer on the little back porch that +overlooks the river. Less radical departures from orthodox custom, +it is true, have caused adverse comment in our watchful little +town; but the spot was secluded from casual censors. And it was +pleasant to sit there on a summer morning over an omelette and +bacon, coffee such as no other Little Arcadian ever drank, and +beaten biscuit beyond the skill of any in our vale save the stout, +short-statured, elderly black man who served me with the grace of +an Ambassador. Moreover, I was glad to please him, and please him +it did to set the little table back against the wall of vines, to +place my chair in the shaded corner, and to fetch the incomparable +results of his cookery from the kitchen, couched and covered in +snowy napkins against the morning breeze.</p> +<p>John Randolph Clement Tuckerman he was; Mr. Tuckerman to many +simple souls of our town, and "Clem" to me, after our intimacy +became such as to warrant this form of address. A little, tightly +kinked, grizzled mustache gave a tone to his face. His hair, well +retreated up his forehead, was of the same close-woven +salt-and-pepper mixture. His eyes were wells of ink when the light +fell into them,—sad, kind eyes, that gave his face a look of +patient service long and toilsomely, but lovingly bestowed. It is a +look telling of kindness that has endured and triumphed—a +look of submission in which suffering has once burned, but has +consumed itself. I have never seen it except in the eyes of certain +old Negroes. The only colorable imitation is to be found in the +eyes of my setter pup when he crouches at my feet and beseeches +kindness after a punishment.</p> +<p>In bearing, as I have intimated, Clem was impressive. He was +low-toned, easy of manner, with a flawless aplomb. As he served me +those mornings in late summer, wearing a dress-coat of broadcloth, +a choice relic of his splendid past, it was not difficult to see +that he had been the associate of gentlemen.</p> +<p>As I ate of his cooking on a fair Sunday, I marvelled gratefully +at the slender thread of chance that had drawn him to be my stay. +Alone in that little house, with no one to make it a home for me, +Clem was the barrier between me and the fare of the City Hotel. +Apparently without suggestion from me he had taken me for his own +to tend and watch over. And the marvel was assuredly not diminished +by the circumstance that I was beholden to Potts for this black +comfort.</p> +<p>Events were in train which were to intensify a thousand fold my +amazement at the seeming inconsequence of really vital facts in +this big life-plot of which we are the puppets—events so +incredible that to dwell upon their relation to the minor accident +of a mere Potts were to incur confusion and downright madness.</p> +<p>Apparently, fate had never made a wilder, more purposeless cast +than when it brought Clem to Little Arcady with Potts.</p> +<p>True, the circumstance enabled Potts for a time to refer to his +"body-servant," and to regale the chair-tilted loungers along the +City Hotel front with a tale of picking the fellow up on a Southern +battle-field, and of winning his dog-like devotion by subsequent +valor upon other fields. "It was pathetic, and comical, too, +gentlemen, to hear that nigger beg me on his bended knees to take +better care of myself and not insist upon getting to the front of +every charge. 'Stay back and let some of the others do a little +fighting,' he would say, with tears rolling down his black cheeks. +And I admit I was rash, but—"</p> +<p>Clem, not long after their arrival, confided to such of us as +seemed worthy the less romantic tale that he had found the Colonel +drunk on the streets of Cincinnati. He had gone there to seek a +fortune for his "folks" and had found the Colonel instead; found +him under circumstances which were typical of the Colonel's periods +of relaxation.</p> +<p>"Yes, seh, anybody could 'a' had that man when Ah found him," +averred Clem; "anybody could 'a' had him fo' th' askin'. A +p'liceman offaseh neahly git him—yes, seh. But Ah seen him +befo' that, an' Ah speaks his notice by sayin', 'This yeh ain' no +good place to sleep, on this yeh hahd stone sidewalk. Yo' freeze +yo'se'f, Mahstah,' an' of cose Ah appreciated th' infuhmities of a +genaman, but Ah induced him to put on his coat an' his hat an' his +boots, an' he sais, 'Ah am Cunnel Potts, an' Ah mus' have mah eight +houahs sleep.' Ah sais to him, 'If yo' is a Cunnel, yo' is a +genaman, an' Ah shall escoht yo' to yo' hotel.' Raght then a +p'liceman offaseh come up, an' he sais, 'Yeh, yeh! what all this +yeh row about?' an' Ah sais, 'Nothin' 'tall, Mahstah p'liceman +offaseh, Ah's jes' takin' Mahstah Cunnel Potts to his hotel, seh, +with yo' kindness,' an' he sais, 'Git him out a yeh an' go 'long +with yo' then,' so Ah led th' Cunnel off, seh. An' eveh hotel he +seen, he sais, 'Yes, tha' she is—tha's mah hotel,' but the +Mahstahs in th' hotels they all talk ve'y shawtly eveh time. They +sais, 'No—<i>no</i>—g'wan, tek him out a' yeh—he +ain' b'long in this place, that man ain'.' So we walk an' walk an' +ultimately he sais, 'If Ah'm go'n' a' git mah eight houahs sleep +this naght, Ah mus' begin sometime,—why not now?' So th' +Cunnel lay raght down on th' thu'faih an' Ah set mahse'f down +beside him twell he wake up in th' mawnin', not knowin' what hahm +maght come to him. An' he neveh <i>did</i> have no hotel in that +town, seh,—<i>no</i>, seh. He been talkin' reglah foolishness +all that theah time. An' he sais: 'Yo' stay by me, boy. Ah's go'n' +a' go West to mek mah fo'chun.' Well, seh, Ah was lookin' fo' a +place to mek some fo'chun mahse'f fo mah folks, an' that theah +Cincinnati didn't seem jes' th' raght place to set about it, so Ah +sais, 'Thank yo' ve'y much, Mahstah Cunnel,' an' Ah stays by him +fo' a consid'ble length of time."</p> +<p>But, little by little, after their coming to our town the +Colonel had alienated his companion by a lack of those qualities +which Clem had been accustomed to observe in those to whom he gave +himself. Potts was at length speaking of him as an ungrateful black +hound, and wondering if the nation might not have been injudicious +in liberating the slave.</p> +<p>Clem, for his part, cut the Colonel dead on Main Street one day +and never afterwards betrayed to him any consciousness of his +existence. It was said that their final disagreement hinged upon a +matter of thirty odd dollars earned by Clem in a Cincinnati +restaurant and confided later to the Colonel's too thorough +keeping.</p> +<p>Be as it may, Clem had formed other and more profitable +connections. From a doer of odd jobs of wood-sawing, +house-cleaning, and stove-polishing he had risen to the dignity of +a market gardener. A small house and a large garden a block away +from my place were now rented by him. Also he caught fish, snared +rabbits, gathered the wild fruits in their seasons, and was janitor +of the Methodist church; all this in addition to looking after my +own home. It was not surprising that he had money in the bank. He +worked unceasingly. The earliest risers in Little Arcady found him +already busied, and those abroad latest at night would see or hear +him about the little unpainted house in the big garden.</p> +<p>I suspect he had come out into the strange world of the North +with large, loose notions that the fortune he needed might be +speedily amassed. Such tales had been told him in his Southland, +where he had not learned to question or doubt. If so, his +disappointment was not to be seen in his bearing. That look of +patient endurance may have eaten a little deeper the lines about +his inky eyes, but I am sure his purpose had never wavered, nor his +faith that he would win at last.</p> +<p>As I ate my breakfast that morning he told me of his good year. +The early produce of his garden had sold well. Soon there would be +half an acre of potatoes to dig, and now there was a fine crop of +melons just coming ripe. These he would begin to sell on the +morrow.</p> +<p>At this point, breakfast being done, the cloth brushed, and a +light brought for my pipe, Clem came from the kitchen with a new +pine board, upon which he had painted a sign with shoe polish.</p> +<p>"Yes, seh, Mahstah Majah,—Ah beg yo' t' see if hit's +raght!" and he held it up to me. It read:—</p> +<blockquote> +<p>Mellins on Sale<br /> +Mush & Water<br /> +Ask Mr. Tuckerman<br /> +at his House.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>I gave the thing a critical survey under his grave regard, then +applauded the workmanship and hoped him a prosperous season with +the melons.</p> +<p>Then I beguiled him to talk of his land and his "folks," +delighting in his low, soft speech, wherein the vowels languished +and the r's fainted from sheer inertia.</p> +<p>"But, Clem, you are a free man now. Those people can't claim +your services any longer."</p> +<p>I knew what he would say, but for the sake of hearing it once +more, I had braved his quick look of commiseration for my +shallowness of understanding.</p> +<p>"Yes, seh, Mahstah Majah, Ah knows 'bout that theah 'mancipation +Procalmashum. But Ah was a ve'y diffunt matteh. Yo'-all see Ah was +made oveh t' Miss Cahline pussenly by Ole Mahstah. Yes, seh, Ah +been Miss Catiline's pussenal propity fo' a consid'able length of +time, eveh sence she was Little Miss."</p> +<p>"But you are free, just the same, now."</p> +<p>He looked upon me with troubled, grave eyes.</p> +<p>"Well, seh, Mahstah Majah, Ah ain't eveh raghtly comp'ehended, +but Ah've reckoned that theah wah business an' Procalmashum an' so +fothe was fo' common niggehs an' fiel' han's an' sech what b'long +to th' place. But Ah was diffunt. Ah ain't b'longed to th' place. +Ah b'longed to Miss Cahline lak Ah endeaveh to explain. Ah was a +house niggeh an' futhamoah an' notwithstandin' Ah was th' pussenal +propity of Miss Cahline. Yes, seh, Ah b'long dreckly to +huh—an' Ah bet them theah lawyehs at Wash'nt'n, seh, couldn't +kentrive none a' they laws that woulda teched <i>me</i>, seh. No, +seh—they cain't lay th' law to Miss Cahline's pussenalities. +She ain't go'n' a' stan' no nonsense lahk <i>that</i>, seh; she +ain't go'n a' have no lawyeh mixin' up in huh private mattehs. Ah +lahk t' see one <i>try</i> it—yes, seh."</p> +<p>He gazed vacantly into the distance, then laughed aloud as he +beheld the discomfiture of the "lawyeh" in this suppositious +proceeding.</p> +<p>"And you even let your wife go?—that must have been +hard."</p> +<p>"Well, seh, not to <i>say</i> mah wife. Mah raght wife, she +daid—an' then Ah mahied this yeh light-shaded gehl fum th' +quahtahs, an' she's wild an' misled—yes, seh."</p> +<p>Again he was troubled, but I held him to it.</p> +<p>"You thought a good deal of her, didn't you, Clem?"</p> +<p>He studied a moment as he rearranged the roses in the bowl on +the table, seeking a way to let me understand. Then he sighed +hopelessly.</p> +<p>"Well, Mahstah Majah, Genevieve she cyahed a raght smaht fo' me, +also, an' she mek it up fo' me t' come along t' town with huh. She +sais Ah git a mewl an' a fahm an' thousan' dollehs money fum yo' +Nawthen President an' we all live lahk th' quality. But, yo'-all +see, th' ole Mahstah Cunnel say when he go off to th' wah, 'Clem, +yo' black houn', ef Ah doan' eveh come back, these yeh ladies is +lef in yo' pussenal chahge. Yo' unde'stan' <i>that?</i> Yo' go on +an' <i>do</i> fo' 'em jes' lahk Ah was yeh.' An' young Mahstah +Cap'n Bev'ly,—he's Little Miss's engaged-to-mahy +genaman,—he sais, 'Clem, ef Ah doan' neveh come back, Ah pray +an' entrus' yo'-all t' cyah fo' Miss Kate an' huh Maw jes lahk Ah +was yeh on th' spot.' An Ah said, 'Yes, seh,' an' they ain't +neithah one a' them eveh did come back. Mahstah Cunnel he daid by +th' hand o' yo' Nawthen President at th' battle a' Seven Pines, an' +Mahstah Cap'n Bev'ly Glentwo'th—yo' ole Mahstah Gen'al +She'dan shoot him all t' pieces in his chest one day. So theah Ah +is—Ah <i>cain't</i> leave—an' Genevieve comes a' +repohtin' huhse'f to mek mah rediments, 'cause we all free an' +go'n' a' go t' Richmond t' live high an' maghty, an' Ah sais, 'Ah'm +Miss Cahline's pussenal propity—Ah ain't no fiel' niggeh!' +She sais, 'Is yo' a' comin' aw is you <i>ain't</i> a-comin'?' Ah +sais, 'Ole Cunnel daid, young Cap'n daid—yo' go 'long an' +min' yo' own mindin's—'"</p> +<p>He paused to look out over the waters with shining eyes. After a +bit he said slowly, "Ah neveh thought Genevieve would go—but +she did."</p> +<p>"Then what?"</p> +<p>"Well, seh, Ah stayed on th' place twell we moved oveh to Miss +Cahline's secon' cousin, Mahstah Cunnel Peavey, but they wa'n't +nothin' theah, so Ah sais t' Miss Cahline that Ah's goin' Nawth +wheah all th' money is, an' Ah send fo' huh. So she sais, 'Ve'y +good, Clem—yo' all Ah got lef t' mah name,' an' so Ah come +off. Then afteh while Little Miss she git resty an' tehible +fractious an' she go off t' Baltimoah t' teach in th' young ladies' +educationals, an' Miss Cahline she still theah waitin' fo' me. Yes, +seh, sh' ain't doin' nothin' but livin' on huh secon' cousin an' he +ain' got nothin'—an' Ah lay Ah ain't go'n' a' have +<i>that</i> kind a' doin's. No, seh—a-livin' on Cunnel Looshe +Peavey. Ah'm go'n' a' git huh yeh whah she kin be +independent—"</p> +<p>Again he stopped to see visions.</p> +<p>"An' then, afteh a tehible shawt while, Ah git Little Miss fum +the educationals an' they <i>both</i> be independent. Yes, seh, +Ah'm gittin' th' money—reglah gole money—none a' this +yeh Vaginyah papah-rags money. Ah ain't stahted good when Ah come, +but Ah wagah ten hund'ed thousan' dollehs Ah finish up good!"</p> +<p>The last was a pointed reference to the Colonel.</p> +<p>"Have you seen Colonel Potts lately?" I asked. Clem sniffed.</p> +<p>"Yes, seh, on that tavehn cohnah, a-settin' on a cheer an' +a-chestin' out his chest lahk a ole ma'ash frawg. 'Peahs like the +man ain't got hawg sense, ack'in' that a-way."</p> +<p>A concluding sniff left it plain that Potts had been put beyond +the pale of gentility by Clem.</p> + +<p class="figure"><a href="images/frontist.jpg"><img width="50%" +src="images/frontist.jpg" alt= +"A-CHESTIN' OUT HIS CHEST LAHK A OLE MA'ASH FRAWG." /></a></p> +<center><h5>"A-CHESTIN' OUT HIS CHEST LAHK A OLE MA'ASH FRAWG."</h5></center> + +<p>He left me then to do his work in the kitchen—left me back +on a battle-field, lying hurt beside an officer from his land who +tried weakly to stanch a wound in his side as he addressed me.</p> +<p>"A hot charge, sir—but we rallied—hear that yell +from our men behind the woods. You can't beat us. We needn't be +told that. Whatever God is, he's at least a gentleman, above +practical jokes of that sort." He groaned as the blood oozed anew +from his side, then pleaded with me to help him find the +picture—to look under him and all about on the ground. Long I +mused upon this, but at last my pipe was out, and I awoke from that +troubled spot where God's little creatures had clashed in their +puny rage—awoke to know that this was my day to wander in +another world—the dream world of children, where everything +is true that ought to be true.</p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CH7">CHAPTER VII</a></h2> +<center>"A WORLD OF FINE FABLING"</center> +<p>Solon Denney's home, in charge of Mrs. Delia Sullivan, late of +Kerry, was four blocks up the shaded street from my own. Within one +block of its gate as I approached it that morning, the Sabbath calm +was riven by shouts that led me to the back of the house. In the +yard next to Solon's, Tobin Crowder, of Crowder & Fancett, +Lumber, Coal and Building Supplies, had left a magnificent green +wagon-box flat upon the ground, a thing so fine that it was almost +a game of itself. An imagination of even the second order could at +once render it supremely fascinating. My two babes, collaborating +with four small Sullivans, had by child magic, which is the only +true magic, transformed this box into a splendid express train. The +train now sped across country at such terrific speed that the small +Sullivan at the throttle, an artist and a realist, crouched low, +with eyes strained upon the track-head, with one hand tightly +holding on his Sunday cap.</p> +<p>Another Sullivan was fireman, fiercely shovelling imaginary +coal; still another at the side of the box grasped the handle of +the brake as one ready to die at his post if need be. The last +Sullivan paced the length of the wagon-box, being thrown from side +to side with fine artistry by the train's jolting. He arrogantly +demanded tickets from passengers supposedly both to relinquish +these. And in his wake went the official most envied by all the +others. With a horse's nose-bag upon his arm my namesake chanted in +pleading tones above the din, "Peanuts—freshly buttered +popcorn—Culver's celebrated double-X cough drops, cool and +refreshing!"</p> +<p>But the tragic eminence of the game was occupied by my woman +child. Perched in the middle of the high seat, her short legs +impotently projecting into space, she was the only passenger on +this train—and she, for whose sole behoof the ponderous +machinery was operated, in whose exclusive service this crew of +trained hirelings toiled—she sat aloft indignant, with +tear-wet face, her soul revolted by the ignominy of it.</p> +<p>I knew the truth in a glance. There had been clamors for the +positions of honor, and she, from weakness of sex, had been +overborne. She, whose heart cried out for the distinction of +train-boy, conductor, engineer, brakeman, or fireman, in the order +named, had been forced into the only degrading post in the +game—a mere passenger without voice or office in those +delicate feats of administration. And she suffered—suffered +with a pathetic loyalty, for she knew as well as they that some one +<i>had</i> to be the passenger.</p> +<p>I held an accusing eye upon my namesake and the train came to a +sudden halt, much embarrassed, though the brakeman, with artistic +relish, made a vast ado with his brake and pretended that "she" +might start off again any minute.</p> +<p>My namesake poised himself on the foot that had no stone-bruise +and began:—</p> +<p>"Now, Uncle Maje, I <i>told</i> her she could be engineer after +we got to the next station—"</p> +<p>His tones were those of benevolence that has been +ill-requited.</p> +<p>"<i>That</i> was las' station," broke in the aggrieved +passenger, "an' they wouldn't stop the train there 'cause they said +it was a 'spress train and mustn't stop at such little +stations—"</p> +<p>"I tried awful hard to stop her," said the crafty Sullivan at +the throttle, "but she got away from me. She did <i>so</i>, +now!"</p> +<p>"And I said, 'First to be engineer,'" resumed the passenger, +bitterly, "an' they wouldn't let me, an' I said, 'Secon' to be +engineer,' an' they never let me, an' I said, 'Las' to be +engineer,' an' they never let me."</p> +<p>"She wants to be <i>everything</i>" said my namesake, rendered a +little sullen by this concise putting of her case.</p> +<p>"You come with me," I said to the passenger, "and we'll do +something better than this—something fine!"</p> +<p>Her face brightened, for she knew that I never made idle +promises as do so many grown-ups. She jumped from her seat, even +though the first Sullivan tooted a throaty whistle and the second +rattled his brake machinery in warning. I helped her over the side +of the box, and as we walked away she shouted back to the bereaved +express train a consolatory couplet:—</p> +<blockquote> +<p>"First the worst, second the same,<br /> +Last the best of all the game!"</p> +</blockquote> +<p>That superb machinery of travel was silent, and the mechanics +and officials, robbed of their passenger, eyed us with +disfavor.</p> +<p>"They are terrapin-buzzards!" exclaimed my woman child, with +deep conviction.</p> +<p>I shuddered fittingly at the violence of her speech.</p> +<p>Before we had gone far the train-boy deserted his post and came +running after us.</p> +<p>"John B. Gough!" he exclaimed bitterly—profanely.</p> +<p>"He's swearing," warned his sister. "Look out, Uncle Maje, or +he'll say 'Gamboge' next."</p> +<p>"I don't care," retorted the indignant follower; "you can't have +a train without any passenger—it's silly. I don't care if I +do say Gamboge. There! Gamboge it!"</p> +<p>I turned upon him. I had endured "terrapin-buzzards," hurled at +the group by my woman child, perceiving need of relief for her +pent-up passion. I had, moreover, for the same reason, permitted my +namesake to roll under his tongue the formidable and satisfying +expletive, "John B. Gough!" But I felt that the line must be drawn +at Gamboge. Terrapin-buzzards was bad enough, though it was true +that this might be used innocently, as in a moment of mild dismay, +or as an exclamation of mere astonishment without sinister import. +But Gamboge!—and ripped out brazenly as it had +been?—No! A thousand times No!</p> +<p>"Calvin," I said sternly, "aren't you ashamed to use such +language—before me—and before your little sister?"</p> +<p>But here the little sister sank beneath her true woman's level +by saying:—</p> +<p>"I know worse than that—Dut!"</p> +<p>With a look of deadly coldness I sought to chill the pride that +shone in her eyes as she achieved this new enormity.</p> +<p>"What is 'Dut'?" I asked severely.</p> +<p>"Dut is—is <i>a</i> Dut," she answered, somewhat abashed +by my want of enthusiasm.</p> +<p>"A Dut is a baddix—a regular baddix," volunteered her +brother. Following a device familiar to philologists, he submitted +concrete examples.</p> +<p>"Two of those Sullivans are Duts, and so's Mrs. Sullivan +sometimes when she makes me split kindling and let the cat alone +and—"</p> +<p>"That will do," I said; "that's enough of such talk. Come right +into the house."</p> +<p>"It ain't a baddix to say 'O Crackers!'" he observed +tentatively, as he followed us.</p> +<p>"It may not be for some people," I answered. "Nice people might +say that once in a great while, on week-days, if they never said +any other baddixes; but it's just as bad as any of them if you say +all the others—especially that horrible one—"</p> +<p>"Gamboge," he reminded me, brightly.</p> +<p>"Never mind saying it again!"</p> +<p>Then came a new uproar from the wagon-box. We perceived that the +train had moved off again, manned now entirely by Sullivans. They +sought, I detected, to produce in our minds an impression that the +thing was going better than ever. The toots of the +Sullivan-throated whistle were louder and more frequent, and the +voice of the largest could be plainly heard. He had combined the +two offices of train-boy and conductor. We heard him alternately +demanding "Tickets!" and urging "Peanuts, cakes, and candies!" If +the intention had been to lure us back to witness a Sullivan +triumph, it failed. We shut our lips tightly and moved around to +the front porch.</p> +<p>The foiled Sullivans presently followed us here. They made a +group at the base of a maple on the lawn and, affecting not to +notice us, talked in a large, loud way so that we must overhear and +be made envious,—even awe-struck; for they had all secured +jobs on the real railroad, it appeared. They would have to begin +to-morrow, probably. They didn't know for sure, but they thought it +would be to-morrow. It would be fine, riding off on the big train. +Probably they would never come back to this town, but sleep on +their big engine every night; and every day, from the toothsome +dainties of the train-boy Sullivan's basket, they would "eat all +they could hold." The elder Sullivan, aged eight, he of the +artistic temperament, here soared dizzily into the farthest ether +of romance. He had his uniform at home, at that very moment, and a +cap with "gold reading" on it—it read "Conductor" on one +side, and "Candy" on the other. Only—this veritably smacked +of genius—the blue coat with the gold buttons had been made +too small for him, and he'd have to wait until they sent him a +larger size—"a No. 12," he said, with a careless, unseeing +glance at our group. This was a stroke that had nearly done for one +of us—but a moment's resistance and another of sober +reflection saved him. He flashed to me a look of scorn for the +clumsy fabrication.</p> +<p>There was still a brakeman needed, it appeared,—a +<i>good</i> brakeman. The Sullivans consulted importantly, +wondering if "a good man" could by any chance be found "around +here." They named and rejected several possible +candidates—other boys that we knew. And they wondered again. +No—probably every one around here was afraid to leave home, +or wouldn't be strong enough.</p> +<p>I held my breath, perceiving at once, the villany on foot. They +were trying to lure one of us into a trap. They wished one of us to +leap forward with a glad, eager, artless shout—"<i>I'll</i> +be the other brakeman!" At once they would jeer coarsely, slapping +one another's backs and affecting the utmost merriment that this +one of us should have been equal to so monstrous a pretension. This +would last a long time. They would take up other matters only for +the sake of coming back to it with sudden explosions of +contemptuous mirth.</p> +<p>Happily, the one of us most liable to this ignominy remained +unbelieving to the bitter end; even did he pretend to a yawning +sort of interest in a book carelessly picked up. The Sullivans had +been foiled at every turn, and now we were relieved from the covert +but not less pointed insult of their presence.</p> +<p>Mrs. Delia, her morning's work done, came out dressed for +church, bidding me a briskly sad little "Good marnin', +<i>Major!</i>" I responded pleasantly, for in a way I liked Mrs. +Sullivan, who came each day from her bare little house under the +hill to make a home for Solon and our children. At least she was +kind to them and kept them plump. That she remained dismal under +circumstances that seemed to me not to warrant it was a detail of +minor consequence. Terry Sullivan had been no good husband to her. +Beating her and the lesser Sullivans had been his serious aim when +in liquor and his diversion when out. But he fell from a gracious +scaffolding with a. bucket of azure paint one day and fractured his +stout neck, a thing which in the general opinion of Little Arcady +Heaven had meant to be consummated under more formal auspices.</p> +<p>But when they took Terry home and laid him on her bed, she had +wailed absurdly for the lost lover in him. Through the night her +cry had been, "Ah, Terry, Terry,—ye gev me manny a haird +blow, darlin', but ye kep' th' hairdest til th' last!"</p> +<p>It was not possible to avoid being irritated a little by such a +woman, but I always tried to conceal this from her. I suppose she +had a right to her own play-world. She was dressed now in a limp +black of many rusty ruffles that sagged close to her and glistened +in spots through its rust. Both the dress and the spiritless silk +bonnet that circled her keen little face seemed to have been cried +over a long time—to be always damp with her tears.</p> +<p>With parting injunctions to my namesake to let the cat alone, +not to "track up" the kitchen, and not to play with matches, the +little woman lovingly cuffed the conspiring lesser Sullivans into a +decorous line behind her and marched them off to church. There, I +knew, she would give from her poor wage that the soul of dead Terry +should be the sooner prayed out of a place, which, it would seem, +might have been created with an eye single to his just needs.</p> +<p>Thinking of woman's love,—that, like the peace of God it +passeth all understanding,—I officiated absently as one of +two guests at a "tea-party." My fellow-guest was a large doll +braced stiffly in its chair; a doll whose waxen face had been +gouged by vandal nails. That was an old tragedy, though a sickening +one at the time. The doll had been my Christmas offering to the +woman child, and in the dusk of that joyous day my namesake had +craved of its proud mother the boon of holding it a little while. +Relinquished trustingly to him, he had sat with it by a cheerful +fire—without evil intent, I do truly believe. Surely it was +by chance that he found its waxen face softening under the stove's +glow—and has Heaven affixed nails to any boy of seven that, +in a dusky room at a quiet moment, would have behaved with more +restraint? I trow not. One surprised dig and all was lost. Of that +fair surface of rounded cheek, fattened chin, and noble brow not a +square inch was left ungouged. It was indeed a face of evil +suggestion that the unsuspecting mother took back.</p> +<p>That was the evening when the Crowders, living next door, had +rushed over in the belief that my woman child was being murdered. +The criminal had never been able to advance the shadow of a reason +or excuse for his mad act. He seemed to be as honestly puzzled by +it as the rest of us, though I rejoice to say that he was not left +without reason to deplore it.</p> +<p>But the mother—the true mother—had thereafter loved +the disfigured thing but the more. She promptly divested it of all +its splendid garments, as a precaution against further vandalism, +and the naked thing with its scarred face was ever an honored guest +at our functions.</p> +<p>"You really must get some clothes for Irene," I said. "That's +not quite the right thing, you know, having her sit there without +any."</p> +<p>In much annoyance she rebuked me, whispering, for this +thoughtless lapse from my rôle as guest. At our parties Irene +was no longer Irene, but "Mrs. Judge Robinson," and justly +sensitive about her faulty complexion and lack of clothes.</p> +<p>"Besides," came the whisper again, "I am going to make her some +clothes—a lovely veil to go over her face."</p> +<p>Resuming her company voice, and with the aplomb of a perfect +hostess who has rectified the gaucherie of an awkward guest, she +pressed upon me another cup of the custard coffee, and tactfully +inquired of the supposedly embarrassed Mrs. Judge Robinson if she +did not think this was <i>very</i> warm weather for this time of +year.</p> +<p>The proprieties being thus mended, our hostess raised her voice +and bade Mrs. Sullivan, within doors, to hurry with the next +course, which, I was charmed to learn, would be lemon soup and +frosted cake. Mrs. Sullivan's response, though audible only to her +mistress, who was compelled to cock an intent ear toward the +kitchen, seemed to be in some manner shuffling or evasive.</p> +<p>"What's <i>that</i>?" she exclaimed sharply, listening again. +Then, with dignity, "Well, if you <i>don't</i> hurry, I'll have to +come right in there and see to you this minute!"</p> +<p>The threat happily availed, and the feast went forward, a +phantom and duly apologetic Mrs. Sullivan serving us with every +delicacy which our imaginations afforded. When we had eaten to +repletion, of and from the checkers which were our plates and food +as well, Mrs. Judge Robinson suddenly became Irene, who had eaten +too much and had to be scolded and put to bed. The lights were out, +the revelry done.</p> +<p>"Going walking now?" asked my namesake. He did not know how to +behave at tea-parties, and, sitting at a little distance from us, +he had been aiming an imaginary gun at every fat robin that mined +the lawn for sustenance.</p> +<p>"Ask your father if you may go," I said. I had heard Solon +pacing his room—forever cogitating the imminent Potts. I did +not enter the house oftener than I could help, for always in those +rooms I felt a troubled presence, a homesick thing that pushed two +frail white hands against an intangible but sufficing curtain that +held it from those it sickened for. I could not long be easy +there.</p> +<p>It was a day poised and serene, with white brush-dabs of cloud +on a wonderful canvas of blue,—a day when I longed for the +honeyed fragrance of the woods warming from the last night's +rain.</p> +<p>But this was not to be my walk. Not for me the shaded arches of +the wood where glad birds piped, nor the velvet hillsides tufted +with green and yellow and brown, nor eke the quiet lane running +between walls of foliage, where simple rabbits scampered, amazed, +but not yet taught their fullest fear.</p> +<p>The butterflies we must chase hovered rather along urban ways. +That of the woman child was social. Ahead of us she flounced. +Strangely, she was herself Mrs. Judge Robinson now. I understood +that she was decked in a gown of royal purple, whose sweeping +velvet train gave her no little trouble. But she paid her calls. At +each gate she stopped, and it seemed that persons met her there, +for she began:—</p> +<p>"Why, how do you <i>do?</i> Yes, it's lovely weather we're +having. Are your children got the scarlet fever? That's too bad. So +has mine. I'm afraid they'll die. Well, I must be going now. +<i>Good</i> day!"</p> +<p>Sometimes she ran back to say, "Now do come over some day and +bring your work!"</p> +<p>The butterflies pursued by my namesake were various, and some of +them were more secret.</p> +<p>For one he made me stand with him while he gazed long into the +drug-store window. I divined at last that those giant chalices, one +of green and one of ruby liquor, were the objects of his worship. +He could not have told me this, but I knew that in his mind these +were compounds of unparalleled richness, potent with Heaven knows +what wondrous charms. It was not that he dreamed ever of securing +any of the stuff; the spell endured only while they must stand +there, remote, splendid, inaccessible.</p> +<p>Then we strolled down the quiet street to a road that went close +to the railway. And there, with beating hearts, we beheld the +two-twenty Eastern freight rattle superbly by us. From the cab of +its inspiring locomotive one of fortune's favorites rang a +priceless gold bell with an air of indifference which we believed +in our hearts was assumed to impress us. And notwithstanding our +suspicion, we <i>were</i> impressed, for did we not know that he +could reach up his other hand and blow the splendid whistle if he +happened to feel like it?</p> +<p>After the locomotive came the closed and mysterious box-cars, +important with big numbers and initials in cabalistic sequence, +indicating a wide and exciting range of travels. Then came stock +cars, from between the slats of which strange and envied cattle +looked out on their way to a wondrous city; and there was a car of +squealing pigs, who seemed not to want to ride on a real train; and +some cars of sheep that were stupidly indifferent about the whole +thing. At the last was a palatial "caboose", and toward this, over +the tops of the moving cars, a happy brakeman made his exciting +progress, not having to hold on, or anything. He casually waved an +arm at us, a salute that one of our number, in acknowledging, +sought to imitate, for the cool, indifferent flourish of its arm, +as if it were a common enough thing for us to be noticed by the +mighty from their eminences.</p> +<p>This was my namesake's most beautiful of butterflies. Any one +could understand that. As the train lost itself in smoke I knew +well what he felt. I knew that that smoke of soft coal was so +delicious, so wonderful of portent in his nostrils, that throughout +his life it would bring up the wander-bidding in him—always a +strange sweet passion of <i>starting</i>. Even now the +journey-wonder was in his eyes. I knew that he saw himself jauntily +stepping the perilous tops of cars, clad in a coat of padded +shoulders bound with wide braid, a lantern on his arm, coal dust +smudging the back of his neck, and two fingers felicitously gone +from his left hand.</p> +<p>I coughed, to recall him from visions. He looked up at me, a +little shyly, debating—but why should it not be told?</p> +<p>"Uncle Maje—when I grow up, I'm going off to be a +brakeman."</p> +<p>"I know it," I said quietly.</p> +<p>"Won't it be just fine!"</p> +<p>"It's the very finest life in all the world. I hoped for it +myself once, but I was disappointed."</p> +<p>He gave me a quick look of sympathy.</p> +<p>"Wouldn't they let you?"</p> +<p>"Well, they were afraid I'd be hurt—only I knew I wouldn't +be—anything to speak of—a couple of fingers, +perhaps—"</p> +<p>"Off the left hand," he suggested understandingly.</p> +<p>"Of course,—off the left hand."</p> +<p>"That brakeman on No. 3 has got two off <i>his</i> left hand," +was the final comment.</p> +<p>We retraced our steps; but there was yet another butterfly of my +namesake's. He led us to a by-path that followed the river bank up +to the bridge, running far ahead of us. When we reached him he was +seated, dumb with yearning, before a newly painted sign,</p> +<center>"GO TO BUDD'S FOR AN UP-TO-DATE 25 CT. DINNER."</center> +<p>He was obliged to limp that day, for his stone-bruise was coming +on finely; but he had gone half a mile out of his way to worship at +this wayside shrine. Again he was dreaming. In the days of his +opulence he saw himself going to Budd's. Fortunately for his +illusions the price was now prohibitive. I had been to Budd's +myself.</p> +<p>"Have you ever been there?" I asked of the dreamer.</p> +<p>"I've been in his store, in the front part, where the candy +is—and if you go 'round when he's freezing ice cream, he'll +give you a whole ten-cent dish just for turning the freezer; but +Pop won't let me stay out of school to do it, and Budd don't freeze +Saturdays. But some day—" he paused. Then, with seemingly +another idea:—</p> +<p>"He's got an awful funny sign up over the counter."</p> +<p>He would not tell me what the sign was, though, He shuffled and +talked of other things. I entered Budd's on the morrow, purposely +to read it, and I knew that my namesake had quailed before it. The +sign was in white, frosted letters, on a blue ground, and it +ran:—</p> +<blockquote> +<p>TO TRUST IS TO BUST<br /> +TO BUST IS HELL<br /> +NO TRUST, NO BUST, NO HELL.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Its syllogistic hardness was repellant, but I dare say it +preserved a gorgeous butterfly from utter extinction.</p> +<p>Home again at early twilight, we ate of a cold supper set out +for us by Mrs. Sullivan. And here I reflected that good days often +end badly, for my namesake betrayed extreme dissatisfaction with +the food.</p> +<p>"Why don't we have that pudding oftener—with lather on top +of it?" was his first outbreak. And at last he felt obliged to +declare bitterly, "We don't have a thing that's fit to eat!"</p> +<p>"Calvin," said his father, "if I have to whip, it will hurt you +worse than it does me."</p> +<p>Whereupon the complainer was wisely silent, but later I heard +him asserting, between catches of his breath, and out of his +father's hearing:—</p> +<p>"I don't care—(<i>a sniff</i>)—when I'm rich, I'll +go to Budd's for an up-to-date dinner, you bet—(<i>a +snuffle</i>)—I'll probably go there every day of my +life—(<i>two snuffles</i>)—yes, sir—Sundays and +all!"</p> +<p>I cheered him as best I could.</p> +<p>His sister had saved her day to a happy end, babbling off to bed +with the distressing Irene, to whom she would show a book of +pictures until sleep shut off her little eyelid.</p> +<p>A wise old man—I believe he was a bishop—once said +he knew "that outside the real world is a world of fine +fabling."</p> +<p>I had stolen a day from that world. Now I hurried through the +gloom of the hall, past the poor striving hands, to sit with Solon +Denney and tell him of a peculiar thing I had observed during the +afternoon's walk.</p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CH8">CHAPTER VIII</a></h2> +<center>ADVENTURE OF BILLY DURGIN, SLEUTH</center> +<p>I spoke to Solon of Billy Durgin, whose peculiar, not to say +mysterious, behavior I had been compelled to notice. I had first +observed him that afternoon as we passed the City Hotel. Through +the window of the little wash-room, where I saw that he was +polishing a pair of shoes, he had winked at me from over his task, +and then erected himself to make a puzzling gesture with one hand. +Again, while we stood dream-bound before the window of the corner +drug store, he had sent me a low whistle from across the street, +following this with another puzzling arm wave; whereat he had +started toward us. But instead of accosting me, as I had thought he +meant to, he rushed by, with eyes rigidly ahead and his thin jaws +grimly set. Throughout the stroll he haunted us, adhering to this +strange line of conduct. I would turn a corner, to find Billy +apparently waiting for me a block off. Then would follow a signal +of no determinable import, after which he would walk swiftly past +me as if unaware of my presence. Once I started to address him, but +was met with "<i>Not a word</i>!" hissed at me in his best style +from between clenched teeth.</p> +<p>I decided at last that Billy was playing a game of his own. For +Billy Durgin, though sixteen years old, had happy access to our +world of fine fabling; and to this I knew he resorted at those +times when his duties as porter at the City Hotel palled upon his +romantic spirit.</p> +<p>Billy, in short, was a detective, well soaked in the plenteous +literature of his craft and living in the dream that criminals +would one day shudder at the bare mention of his name.</p> +<p>Nor was he unprovided with a badge of office. Upon his immature +chest, concealed by his waist-coat, was an eight-pointed star +emblazoned with an open eye. Billy had once proudly confided to me +that the star was "pure German Silver." A year before he had +answered an advertisement which made known that a trusty man was +wanted in every community "to act for us in a confidential +capacity. Address for particulars, with stamp."</p> +<p>The particulars were that you sent the International Detective +Association five dollars for a badge. After that you were their +confidential agent, and if a "case" occurred in your territory, you +were the man they turned to.</p> +<p>Billy's five hard-earned dollars had gone to the great city, and +back had come his star. He wore it secretly at first, but was moved +at length to display it to a few chosen friends; not wisely chosen, +it would appear, for now there were mockers of Billy among the +irreverent of the town. As he sat aloft on his boot-blacking +throne, waiting for crime to be done among us, conning meantime one +of those romances in which his heroes did rare deeds, he would be +subjected to intrusion. Some coarse town humorist would leer upon +him from the doorway—a leer of furtive, devilish +cunning—and whisper hoarsely, "Hist! Are we alone?"</p> +<p>Struck thus below the belt of his dignity, our hero could only +respond:—</p> +<p>"Aw, that's all right! You g'wan out a' here now an' quit your +foolin'!"</p> +<p>But criminals seemed to have conspired against Little Arcady, to +cheat it of its rightful distinction. In vain had Billy waited for +a "case" to be sent him by the International Detective Agency. In +vain had he sought to develop one by his own ferreting genius. Each +week he searched the columns of the police paper in Harpin Gust's +barber-shop, fixing in his mind the lineaments of criminals there +advertised as wanted in various corners of our land. These were +counterfeiters, murderers, embezzlers, horse-thieves, confidence +men, what not—criminals to satisfy a sleuth of the most +catholic tastes; but they were all wanted elsewhere—at +Altoona, Pennsylvania, or Deming, New Mexico; at Portland, Maine, +or Dodge City, Kansas. In truth, the country elsewhere swarmed with +Billy's lawful prey, and only Little Arcady seemed good.</p> +<p>Billy also gloated over the portraits of well-known deputy +sheriffs and other officers of the law printed in the same charming +police paper. It seemed not too much to hope that his own likeness +might one day grace that radiant page—himself in a long, +fashionable overcoat, carelessly flung back to reveal the badge, +with its never closing eye, and underneath, "William P. Durgin, the +Dashing Young Detective, whose Coolness, Skill, and Daring have +made his Name a Terror to Evil-Doers."</p> +<p>Famished for adventure, thirsting for danger, yearning for the +perilous midnight encounter, avid of secrecy and disguises, Billy +had been forced to toil prosaically, barrenly, unprofitably, about +the sinless corridors of the City Hotel. All he had been able to do +thus far was to regard every newcomer to the town with a steely eye +of distrust; to watch each one furtively, to shadow him in his +walks, and to believe during his sojourn that he might be "Red +Mike, alias James K. Brown, wanted for safe-breaking at Muskegon, +Michigan; reward, $1000," or some like desperado.</p> +<p>As such did he view them all—from the ornately garbed +young man who came among us purveying windmills to the portly, +broadclothed, gray-whiskered and forbiddingly respectable +colporteur of the American Bible Society. Some day would his keen +gray eye penetrate the cunning disguise; some day would he step +quietly up to his man and say in low but deadly tones: "Come with +me, now. Make no trouble or it will be the worse for you." +Whereupon the guilty wretch would blanch and say in shaking voice: +"My God, it's Billy Durgin, the famous detective! Don't +shoot—I'll come!"</p> +<p>Billy had faith that this dramatic episode would occur in the +very office of the City Hotel, and he believed that some of those +who had joked him about his life passion would thereafter treat him +in a very different manner.</p> +<p>Though I had long won these facts from Billy, I had never known +him to play his game so openly before. But when I mentioned the +thing to Solon, thinking to beguile him from his trouble, I found +him more interested than I had thought he could be; for Solon knew +Billy as well as I did,</p> +<p>"Did Billy follow you here?" he asked. "Perhaps he has a +clew."</p> +<p>"A clew to what?"</p> +<p>"A clew to Potts. Billy volunteered to work up the Potts case, +and I told him to go ahead."</p> +<p>"Was that fair, Solon, to pit a sleuth as relentless as Billy +against poor Potts?"</p> +<p>"All's fair in love and war."</p> +<p>"Is it really war?"</p> +<p>"You ask Westley Keyts if he thinks it's love."</p> +<p>I think I noticed for the first time then that the Potts affair +was etching lines into Solon's face.</p> +<p>"Of course it's war," he went on. "You know the fix I'm in. I +had the plan to get Potts out. It was a good plan, too. The more I +think of it the better I like it. With any man in the world but +Potts that plan would have been a stroke of genius. But I don't +mind telling you that this thing has robbed me of sleep for three +months. Potts has got me talking to myself. I wake up talking of +him, out of the little sleep I do get. I'll tell you the +fact—if Potts is here six weeks longer, and let to finish +this canvas, my influence in Slocum County is gone. I might as well +give up and move on to another town myself, where my dreadful +secret is unknown."</p> +<p>"Nonsense! But what can Billy Durgin do?"</p> +<p>"Well, I'm desperate, that's all. And one night Billy had me +meet him up by the cemetery—he came disguised in long black +whiskers—and he told me that Potts was James Carruthers, +better known to the police of two continents as 'Smooth Jim,' +wanted for robbing the post-office at Lima, Ohio. Of course that's +nonsense. Potts hasn't the wit to rob a post-office. But I didn't +have the heart to tell Billy so. I told him, instead, that this was +the chance of his life; to fasten to Potts like an enraged leech, +and draw out every secret of his dark past. You can't +tell—Billy might find something to pry him into the next +county with, anyway."</p> +<p>"He certainly looked charged with information this afternoon. He +was fizzing like an impatient soda fountain. But why did he follow +me?"</p> +<p>"Well, that might be Billy's roundabout way of getting to me. +The other time he shadowed Marvin Chislett to get a message to me. +If you're a detective, you can't do things the usual way, or all +may be lost."</p> +<p>At that instant a low whistle sounded in our ears, a small +missile was thrown over the evergreen hedge, bounding almost to our +feet, and a slight but muscular figure was seen retreating swiftly +into the dusk.</p> +<p>Solon sprang for the mysterious object. It was a stone, about +which was wrapped a sheet of paper. This he took off and smoothed +out. By the fading light we made out to read: "Meet me at graveyard +steps at midnight. You know who."</p> +<p>We looked at each other. "Why didn't he come in here?" I +asked.</p> +<p>"That wouldn't have been detective-like."</p> +<p>"But the graveyard at midnight!"</p> +<p>"Well, perhaps he won't hold out for midnight—Billy is +merely poetic at times—and maybe if we hurry along, we can +catch up with him and have it out by the marble works there instead +of going clear on to the cemetery. Perhaps that will be near enough +in the right spirit for Billy."</p> +<p>Quickly we made ready for the desperate assignation, pulling our +hats well down, in a way that we thought Billy would approve.</p> +<p>Four blocks along the street, by rapid walking, we came within +hail of the intrepid young detective. We were also opposite the +marble yard of Cornelius Lawson, who wrought monuments for the dead +of Little Arcady. In front of the shop were a dozen finished and +half-finished stones, ghostly white in the dusk. It seemed indeed +to be a spot impressive enough to meet even Billy's captious +requirements, but we had underrated the demands of his artist's +conscience. Solon called to him.</p> +<p>"Won't this do, Billy?"</p> +<p>Billy stopped dramatically, turned back upon us, and then +exploded:—</p> +<p>"Fools! Would you ruin all? You must not be seen addressing me. +Now I must disguise myself."</p> +<p>Turning stealthily from us, he swiftly adjusted a beard that +swept its sable flow down his youthful chest. Then he addressed us +again, still in tense, hoarse accents.</p> +<p>"Are you armed?"</p> +<p>"To the teeth!" answered Solon, with deadly grimness, and with a +presence of mind which I envied.</p> +<p>"Then follow me, but at a distance!"</p> +<p>Meekly we obeyed. While our hero stalked ahead, stroking his +luxuriant whiskers ever and anon, we pursued him at an interval so +great that not the most alert citizen of Little Arcady could have +suspected this sinister undercurrent to his simple life.</p> +<p>It is a long walk to the cemetery, but we reached it to find +Billy seated on the steps that lead over the fence, still shielded +by his hairy envelope.</p> +<p>"A tough case!" he whispered as we sat by him. "Our man has his +spies out, and my every step is dogged both night and day."</p> +<p>"Indeed?" we asked.</p> +<p>"You know that slim little duck that got in last night, +purtendin' he's a shoe-drummer? Well, he's a detective hired by +Potts to shadow me. You know that big fat one, lettin' on he's +agent for the Nonesuch Duplex Washin' Machine? He's another. You +know that slick-lookin' cuss—like a minister—been here +all week, makin' out he was canvassin' for 'The Scenic Wonders of +Our Land' at a dollar a part, thirty-six parts and a portfoly to +pack 'em away in? Well, he's an—"</p> +<p>"Hold on, Billy, let's get down to business," reminded +Solon.</p> +<p>"But I've throwed 'em all off for the nonce," continued Billy, +looking closely, I thought, to see if we were rightly affected by +"nonce."</p> +<p>"Yes, sir, it's been the toughest darned case in my whole +experience as an inside man."</p> +<p>He waited for this to move us.</p> +<p>"What have you found out?" asked Solon; "and say, can't you take +off those whiskers, now that we are alone and unobserved? You know +they kind of scramble your voice."</p> +<p>With cautious looks all about him, Billy bared his tender young +face to the night. A weak wind fretted in the cedars back of us, +and an owl hooted. It was not an occasion that he would permit to +glide by him too swiftly.</p> +<p>"Well, first I had to git my skeleton keys made."</p> +<p>"I thought you said his door was never locked," interrupted +Solon.</p> +<p>"That might be only a ruse," suggested our hero. "Well, I got my +keys made, and then I begun to search his room. That's always a +delicate job. You got to know just how. First I looked under the +aidges of the carpet, clear around. Nothing rewarded my masterly +search. Then I examines the bed and mattress inch by inch, with the +same discouragin' results." Billy had now drifted fairly into the +exciting manner of his favorite authors.</p> +<p>"Baffled, but not beaten, I nex' turns my attention to the +pictures, examinin' with a trained eye the backs of same, where +might be cunningly concealed the old will—uh—I mean the +incriminatin' dockaments that would bring the craven wretch to bay +and land him safely behind the bars of jestice. But it seemed like +I had the cunning of a fiend to contend with. No objeks of interest +was revealed to my swift but thorough examination. Thence I +directed my attentions to the wall-paper, well knowin' the +desperate tricks to which the higher class of criminal will +ofttimes resort to. Once I thought the game was up and all was +lost. That new Swede chambermaid walks right in an' ketches me at +my delicate tasks.</p> +<p>"Always retainin' my calm presence of mind and coolness in +emergencies, quick to think an' as ready to act, with an undaunted +bravery I sprang at the girl's throat and hissed, 'How much will it +take to silence your accursed tongue?' She draws her slight girlish +figure up to its full height—'Ten thousand dollars!' she +hissed back at me. 'Ten thousand devils!' I cried, hoarse with +rage—"</p> +<p>Too palpably our hero had been overwhelmed by his passion for +fictitious prose narrative.</p> +<p>"Hold on, Billy!—back up," broke in Solon. "This is +business, you know—this isn't an Old Cap' Collyer tale."</p> +<p>"Well, anyway," resumed Billy, a little abashed, "I silenced the +girl. I threatened to have her transported for life if she breathed +a word. Mebbe she didn't suspect anything after all. Tilly ain't so +very bright. So at length I continues my researches into every nook +and cranny of the den, and jest as I was about to abandon the +trail, baffled and beaten at every turn, what should I git but an +idee to look at some papers lyin' in plain sight on the table at +the head of the bed."</p> +<p>"Well, out with it!" I thought Solon was growing a little +impatient. But Billy controlled the situation with a firm hand.</p> +<p>"It's an old trick," he continued, "one that's fooled many a +better man than Billy Durgin—leavin' the dockaments +carelessly exposed like they didn't amount to anything; but havin' +the well-known tenacity of a bloodhound, I was not to be thwarted. +Well—to make a long story short—"</p> +<p>Solon brightened wonderfully.</p> +<p>"I have to admit that my first suspicion was incorrect. He ain't +the one that done that Lima, Ohio, job and carried off them eight +hundred dollars' worth of stamps—"</p> +<p>"But what <i>did</i> he do?"</p> +<p>"Well, I got a clew to another past of his—"</p> +<p>"What is it? Let's have it!"</p> +<p>Billy was still not to be driven faster than a detective story +should move.</p> +<p>We heard, and dimly saw, him engaged with a metallic object +which he drew from under his coat. We were silent. Then we heard +him say:—</p> +<p>"My lamp's went out—<i>darn</i> these matches!"</p> +<p>At last he seemed to light something. He unfolded a bit of paper +before us and triumphantly across its surface he directed the rays +of a bull's-eye lantern. This was his climax. We studied the +paper.</p> +<p>"Billy," said Solon, after a pause, "this looks like a good +night's work. True, it may come to naught. We may still be baffled, +foiled, thwarted at every turn—and yet something tells me +that the man is in our power—that by this precious paper we +may yet bring the scoundrel to his knees in prayers for our mercy, +craven with fear at our knowledge."</p> +<p>"Say," said Billy, stung to admiration by this flow of the right +sort of talk, "Mr. Denney, did you ever read 'Little Rosebud, or is +Beauty a Curse to a Poor Girl?' That sounded just like the +detective in that—you remember—where he's talkin' to +Clarence Armytage just after he's overheard the old lawyer tell +Mark Vinton, the villain, 'If this child lives, you are a beggar!' +Remember that?"</p> +<p>"Why, no, Billy. I must get that, first thing in the morning. My +tribute to your professional skill was wholly spontaneous, though +perhaps a shade influenced by having listened to your own graphic +style. But come, men! Let us separate and be off, ere we are +discovered. And mind, not a word of this. One false step might ruin +all! So have a care."</p> +<p>It must have been one of the few perfect moments in the life of +Billy.</p> +<p>"You may rely upon William Durgin to the bitter end," said he, +with a quiet dignity. "But there is work yet ahead for me +to-night.</p> +<p>"I got to regain my hotel unobserved. My life is not safe a +moment with my every step dogged by the hired assassins of that +infamous scoundrel."</p> +<p>"If death or disaster come to you, Billy, you shall not be +unavenged. We swear it here on this spot. <i>Swear</i>, Cal!"</p> +<p>"Say," Billy called back to us, after adjusting his beard, "if +anything comes of this,—rewards or anything,—first +thing I'm goin' a' do—git me a good forty-four Colts. You +can't stop a man with this here little twenty-two, an' it's only a +one-shot at that. I'd be in a <i>nice</i> hole sometime, wouldn't +I, with my back up against a wall an' six or seven of 'em comin' +for me an' nothin' but <i>this</i> in my jeans?"</p> +<p>"Point that the other way, Billy—we'll see about a bigger +one later. We can't do anything to-night. And sell your life as +dearly as possible if you have to sell it."</p> +<p>I fell asleep that night on a conviction that our taste for +barren reality is our chief error. If we could only believe +forever, what a good world it could be—"a world of fine +fabling," indeed! Also I wondered what J. Rodney Potts might have +to apprehend from the leaven of fact in the fabling of Billy +Durgin.</p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CH9">CHAPTER IX</a></h2> +<center>HOW THE BOSS SAVED HIMSELF</center> +<p>He whom they had, with facetious intent, called "the Boss of +Little Arcady" now began to wear a mien of defiance. From being +confessedly distraught, he displayed, as the days went by, a +spiritual uplift that fell but little short of arrogance. He did +not permit any reason to be revealed for this marked change of +demeanor. He was confident but secretive, serene but furtive, as +one who has endured gibes for the sake of one brilliant +<i>coup</i>.</p> +<p>This apparently causeless change permeated even to the columns +of the <i>Argus</i>. It had been observed by more than one of us +that these had of late suffered from the depression of their +editor. Their general tone had been negative. Now they spoke in a +lightsome tone of self-sufficiency. They were gay, even jaunty. It +was in this very epoch that the verse was born which for many years +sang blithely from the top of the first column—sang of +Denney's public-spirited optimism as to Slocum County and the +Little Country.</p> +<blockquote> +<p>Keep your eye on Slocum,<br /> +She's all right!<br /> +Her skies are clear and full of cheer,<br /> +And all her prospects bright.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>As pointing more specifically to the incubus of Potts, there was +this:—</p> +<p>"Lots of people are saying that we have met our Waterloo. They +forget that Waterloo was a <i>victory</i> as well as a defeat. Two +men met it, and the name of one was Wellington. Look it up in your +encyclopaedia."</p> +<p>But the faction of Potts, it should be noted, saw no reason to +be impressed by a vaunting so vague. It had not tempered its +hopefulness.</p> +<p>Its idol was jubilant, careless as a schoolboy, babbling but +sober. The <i>Banner</i> still challenged the world with its +page-wide line: "Potts Forever! Potts the Coming Man!"</p> +<p>Certain hopeful souls among the opposition had taken counsel how +they might cause Potts to fall by means of strong drink. They had +observed that the mill-race was still significantly uncovered. But +to all invitations, all cunning incitements to indulgence, Potts +was urbanely resistant. Conscious that a river of strong waters +rippled at his feet, freely to be partaken of did he choose, it is +true that his face showed lines of restraint, a serene restraint, +like unto that which the great old painters limned so beautifully +upon the face of the martyr. But the martyrs of old in their +ecstasy were not more resolute than Potts. It is probable that he +looked forward to a period of post-election refreshment; but +pending the first Tuesday after the first Monday in November, his +determination was such that it stamped his face with something akin +to dignity. Said Westley Keyts, "If it was raining whiskey, Potts +wouldn't drink as much as he could ketch on a fork!" and to this +the town agreed. For once Potts was firm.</p> +<p>His alpaca suit had visibly deteriorated during the campaign, +and his tall hat again cried for the glossing ministry of a heated +iron, but his virtue burgeoned under stress and flowered to beauty +in the sight of men. It was understood at last that the mill-race +might as well be covered for any adventitious relation it could +sustain to Potts drunk.</p> +<p>Westley Keyts's suggestion that Potts be weighted with pig-iron +and dumped into the healing waters, drunk or sober, was the mere +playfulness of an excellent butcher unpractised in sarcasm. His +offer to supply, free of cost, a quantity of pig-iron ample for the +purpose left this hypothesis unavoidable, for Westley winked +flagrantly and leered when he voiced it.</p> +<p>But a retribution subtler than mere drowning awaited the +superfluous Potts; a retribution so simple of mechanism, so swift, +so potent, and wrought with a talent so masterly, that the right of +its instigator to the title of Boss of Little Arcady seemed to be +unassailable for all future time.</p> +<p>At the very zenith of his heavenward flight Potts was brought +low. At the very nethermost point of his downward swoop Solon +Denney was raised to a height so dizzy that even the erstwhile +sceptic spirit of Westley Keyts abased itself before him, frankly +conceding that diplomacy's innocent and mush-like surface might +conceal springs of a terrible potency.</p> +<p>Though Solon's public mien for a week or more had been hint +enough of his secret to those who knew him well, I was, possibly, +the first to whom he confided it in words.</p> +<p>He sent for me one crisp October morning, and I rushed over to +the <i>Argus</i> office, knowing that he must have matters of +importance to communicate.</p> +<p>I found him pacing the little sanctum, scanning a still damp +sheet of proof. His brow was furrowed, but the lines were those of +conscious power. In the broken chair by the littered desk sat Billy +Durgin, his eyes ablaze with the lust of the chase. As I pushed +into the dingy little room Solon halted in his walk and, with a +flourish that did not entirely lack the dramatic, he handed me the +narrow strip of paper. The item was brief.</p> +<p>"Mrs. J. Rodney Potts, the estimable wife of Colonel J. Rodney +Potts of this town, will arrive here from the East next Thursday to +make her home among us."</p> +<p>I looked up, to find them eager for my comment.</p> +<p>"Is it true?" I asked.</p> +<p>"It is," said Solon. "I shall meet the lady on the arrival of +the eleven-eight train next Thursday."</p> +<p>"Well—what of it?"</p> +<p>"We are now about to see 'what of it.' My trusty and fearless +young lieutenant here"—he indicated Billy, who coughed in his +hand and looked modestly out the window—"is now about to +beard Potts in his den and find out 'what of it.' I may say that we +hope there will be a good deal of it. I gather as much from the +correspondence of the last three weeks with the lady referred to in +that simple galley proof, which I set up and pulled with my own +hands. In this opinion I am not alone. It is shared by my able and +dauntless young coadjutor, before whom I can see a future so +brilliant that you need smoked glasses to look at it very long at a +time."</p> +<p>The gallant young detective turned from the window.</p> +<p>"The hour has come to strike our blow," he remarked, his brow +contracting to a scowl that boded no good to a certain upright +citizen of this great republic.</p> +<p>"I have thought it best," resumed Solon, "to take Potts into our +confidence at precisely this stage—giving him this exclusive +news one day in advance of its publication. To-morrow, when every +one knows it, Potts might be rash enough to stay and brave it out. +Being advised to-day, privately, and thus afforded a chance to fade +gracefully into the great bounding West, he may use his common +sense. Now then, officer, do your duty!"</p> +<p>Our hero arose from his chair, buttoned his coat, passed a hand +caressingly over his hip pocket, took the proof from me, and +stalked grimly out.</p> +<p>"So the lady is really coming?" I asked, as Billy's footsteps +died away down the wooden stairs.</p> +<p>"She is, the lady and her little son," said Solon, resuming his +walk up and down the room. "She is coming all the way from Boston, +Massachusetts. And I don't believe she quite knows what she's +coming to. She speaks in a strange manner of her hope that she may +be able to do good among us, and in her last letter she wants to +know if I have ever seen a little book called 'One Hundred Common +Errors in Speaking and Writing.' She seems to have the missionary +instinct, as nearly as I can judge."</p> +<p>He paused in his walk and lowered his voice impressively.</p> +<p>"Between you and me, Cal,—you know I've had about six +letters from her,—it's just possible that Potts had his +reasons. I don't <i>say</i> he did, mind you,—but strange +things happen in this world.</p> +<p>"But that's neither here nor there," he went on more lightly. +"Potts has brought it on himself."</p> +<p>In silence, then, we awaited the return of the messenger. The +moment was tensely electric when at last we heard the clatter of +his boots on the stairway. Breathless, he entered and stood before +us, his coolness for once destroyed under the strain of his +adventure. Solon helped him to a chair with soothing words.</p> +<p>"Take it easy now, Billy! Get your +breath—there—that's good! Now tell us all about +it—just what you said and just what he said and just what +talk there was back and forth."</p> +<p>"Gosh-all-Hemlock!" spluttered Billy, not yet equal to his best +narrative style.</p> +<p>We waited. He drew a dozen long breaths before he was again the +cold, self-possessed, steely-eyed avenger.</p> +<p>"Well," he began brightly, "I gains access to our man in his +wretched den on the second floor of the Eubanks Block. As good luck +would have it, he was alone by hisself, walkin' up and down, +swingin' his arms like he was practisin' one o' them speeches of +his.</p> +<p>"Well, I had it all fixed up fine how I was goin' to act, and +what I was goin' to say to him, and how I'd back up a few paces +against the wall and say, 'Not a word above a whisper, or I'll send +this bullet through your craven heart!' and he'd fall down on his +knees and beg me in vain for mercy and so on. But Gee! the minute I +seen him I got all nervoused up and I jest says, 'Here, read that +there piece—your wife's comin' next Thursday!'</p> +<p>"Well, sir, at those careless words of mine he gives a guilty +start, his face blanched with horror, and he hissed through his set +teeth, 'Which one?'—as quick as that.</p> +<p>"<i>Me</i>?—I couldn't git out a word for a minute, and he +started for me. 'Which <i>one</i>?' he repeats, hoarse with rage, +and that gives me an idee. 'Stand back!' I cried fearlessly, 'stand +back, coward that you are—make no word of outcry, or it will +go hard with you—they're <i>both</i> comin',' I +says,—'this one's comin' next week and the other one's comin' +the week after, soon as she can git some sewin' done up.' +<i>Me?</i>—I was leadin' him on, you understand—for we +hadn't knowed there was more than one. Well, at that he read the +piece over and set down in his chair with both hands up to his head +and he says, 'I'm bein' hounded by a venal press, that's what's the +matter; I'm bein' hounded from pillar to post.'</p> +<p>"At this I broke in with a sneer,—'Oh, we've only just +began,' I says. 'We'll have the whole lot of 'em here inside of six +weeks—children and all.' 'It's a lie,' he hissed at me. +'There ain't any more.'</p> +<p>"'Have a care, Colonel Potts,' I exclaimed, 'or first thing you +know you will rue those there words bitterly! I will not brook your +dastardly insults,' I says, 'and besides,' I added with a sudden +idee, 'it looks like two wives will warm things up plenty for +<i>you</i>.'</p> +<p>"At them words his craven face turned an ashen gray, and he +fastened upon me a glare of baffled rage that might well have made +a stouter heart quail before it, but I returned his glare +fearlessly and backed swif'ly to the door, feelin' for the knob. +When I found it, I got quickly out, without a blow bein' struck or +a shot fired. Then I run here."</p> +<p>Early in the narrative Solon had begun to beam, identifying +readily the slender but important vertebrae of fact upon which +Billy had organized this drama of his fancy. At the close he shook +hands warmly with our hero.</p> +<p>"This has been a splendid day's work, William Durgin!" and Billy +beamed in his turn.</p> +<p>"I wasn't goin' to let him know we thought there was only one," +he said.</p> +<p>"Precisely where your training showed, my boy. Any one could +have handed Potts that proof, but it took you to handle the case +after the scoundrel had said 'Which one?' Well, it's Potts's move +now. If he doesn't move, we'll just add this to the item: 'Mrs. J. +Rodney Potts, wife of Colonel J. Rodney Potts, will arrive again +the following week. The ladies anticipate an interesting time in +meeting their mutual husband.' How's that?"</p> +<p>Billy's eyes glistened—he was yearning for just that +situation.</p> +<p>"But if Potts does move," added Solon, "not a word about the +second lady. We won't take a mean advantage, even of Potts."</p> +<p>At six o'clock that evening, the following facts became known: +that Colonel Potts had obtained a quart of whiskey from Barney +Skeyhan; that he had borrowed twenty dollars from the same trustful +tradesman; that, his cane in one hand and his oilcloth valise in +the other, he had walked down Main Street late in the afternoon and +boarded the five twenty-eight freight going West, ostensibly on a +business trip into the next county.</p> +<p>Not until the next morning was it known that Potts had left us +forever. This came from "Big Joe" Kestril. The two had met at the +depot and drunk fraternally from the bottle of Potts, discussing +the thing frankly, meanwhile.</p> +<p>"They've hounded me out of town," said the Colonel.</p> +<p>"How?" said Big Joe.</p> +<p>"They sent for Mrs. Potts to come here—it's infamous, +sir!"</p> +<p>It appeared that Potts had said further: "I can't understand the +men of this town at all. It looks as if I have been trifled with, +much as I dislike to think so. One minute they crowd letters on to +me, praising me up to the skies, and print pieces in the paper +saying that nothing is too good for me and my departure is a public +loss, and why won't I remain and be a credit to the town and a lot +more like that, good and strong. Then when I do consent to remain, +why, what do they do? Do they grasp my hand and say, 'Ah, good old +Potts—stanch Potts, loyal Potts—good for you—you +won't desert the town!' Do they talk that way? No, they do +<i>not</i>. Instead of talking like a body would think they'd talk +after all those letters and things, why, they turn and fling abuse +at me—and now—now they've gone and done <i>this</i> +hellish thing! I won't say a word against any man, but in my +opinion they're a passel of knaves and lunatics. Look at me, Joe. +Yesterday I was a made man; to-day I'm all ruined up! I merely +state facts and let you draw your own conclusions."</p> +<p>The conclusions which Big Joe drew, such as they were, he was +unable to communicate intelligibly until the morrow, for the train +was late and they drank of the liquor until the Colonel had time to +lament his improvidence in bringing away so little of it. And by +the time Big Joe's report was abroad, both the <i>Banner</i> and +the <i>Argus</i> were out. The item in the latter concerning Mrs. +Potts had been only a little altered.</p> +<p>"Mrs. J. Rodney Potts, wife of Colonel J. Rodney Potts, until +yesterday a resident of this town, will arrive here next Thursday +from Boston, Massachusetts, to make her home among us. She is an +estimable and cultured lady, and we bespeak for her a warm welcome +to this garden-spot of the mid-West."</p> +<p>Across the top of the <i>Banner's</i> first page was its +campaign slogan as usual:—</p> +<center>"POTTS FOREVER! POTTS THE COMING MAN!"</center> +<p>Across the top of the <i>Argus</i> in similar type ran the +pregnant line:—</p> +<center>"POTTS FOREVER, BUT MAYNE FOR COUNTY JUDGE. THE TROUBLE +WITH THE COMING MAN IS THAT HE'S GONE!"</center> + + + + +<h2><a name="CH10">CHAPTER X</a></h2> +<center>A LADY OF POWERS</center> +<p>Superficially and distantly considered, the woman from whom even +J. Rodney Potts must flee in terror would not be of a sort to +excite the imagination pleasurably. A less impulsive man than Solon +Denney might have found cause for misgiving in this circumstance of +Potts's prompt exodus. In the immediate flush of his triumph, +however, the editor of the <i>Argus</i> had no leisure for negative +reflections, and when misgiving did at last find root in his mind, +the time had come for him to receive the lady. But Solon Denney was +not the man to betray it if a doubting heart beat within his +breast. To the town that now lavished admiration upon him, dubbing +him "Boss" without ulterior implications, he was confidence itself, +and rife with prophecies of benefit to be derived by our public +from the advent of Mrs. Aurelia Potts. With a gallant show of +anticipation, a sprig of geranium in his lapel, he set out for the +train on that fateful morning, while Little Arcady awaited his +return with a cordial curiosity.</p> +<p>It was a gray day of damp air and a dull, thick sky bearing down +upon the earth—a day conducive to forebodings. But Solon +Denney's spirit, to the best of Little Arcady's belief, soared +aloft to realms of pure sunlight.</p> +<p>My knowledge of subsequent events that day was gained partly by +word of mouth and partly by observations which I was permitted to +make.</p> +<p>To the hotel Solon conducted his charges, handing them from the +'bus with a flourish that seemed to confer upon them the freedom of +the city. From shop doors and adjacent street corners the most +curious among us beheld a tall, full-figured woman of majestic +carriage, with a high, noble forehead and a face that seemed to +register traces of some thirty-five earnest but not unprofitable +years. Even in the quick glance she bestowed up and down Washington +Street before the hotel swallowed her up, her quality was to be +noted by the discerning,—the quality of a commander, of one +born to prevail. The flash of her gray-green eye was interested but +unconcerned. Complemented by the marked auburn of her plenteous +hair, the eyes were masterful, advertising most legibly the +temperament of a capable ruler. The subdued, white-faced boy of +twelve, with hair like his mother's, who trotted closely at her +heels was, for the moment, a negligible factor.</p> +<p>An hour later I entered the sanctum of the <i>Argus</i>, to find +its owner alone before his littered table. Upon his usually +careless face was the most profoundly thoughtful look I had ever +known him wear. Open before him was that week's <i>Argus</i>, but +his eyes narrowed to its neat columns only at intervals. For the +most part his gaze plunged far into virgin realms of meditation. It +was only after several reminding coughs that I succeeded in +recalling him from afield; and even then the deeply thoughtful look +remained to estrange his face from me.</p> +<p>"Say, Cal, do you believe in <i>powers</i>?"</p> +<p>"What kind of powers?"</p> +<p>"Well, I don't know—every kind—just +<i>powers</i>—mystic, occult powers."</p> +<p>"I don't care to commit myself without more details," I answered +with a caution that seemed to be needed.</p> +<p>"Well, sir, that woman has 'em—she has +<i>powers</i>—she certainly has. There is something in her +eye that paralyzes the will; you look at her and you say yes to +anything she suggests."</p> +<p>"For example—"</p> +<p>"Well, I've just agreed with her that the <i>Argus</i> isn't +what it ought to be."</p> +<p>I gasped. This indeed savored of the blackest magic.</p> +<p>"What did she <i>do</i> to you?"</p> +<p>"Just looked at me, that's all,—and took it for +granted."</p> +<p>"Heavens! You're shivering!"</p> +<p>"You <i>wait</i>—wait till she talks to you! She's +promised to give me a little book," he went on dejectedly, "'One +Hundred Common Errors in Writing and Speaking,' and she says the +split infinitive is a crime in this nineteenth century. But, say, +this paper would never get to press if I took time to unsplit all +my infinitives."</p> +<p>"Well, put Billy Durgin to work on her case right away," I said +to cheer him. "If the woman talks like that, I'll bet Billy can +find some good reason why she ought to push on after the +Colonel."</p> +<p>Again his deeply thoughtful gaze bore upon me.</p> +<p>"I'm puzzled," he said,—"honestly puzzled. I don't know +whether she'll be good for this town or not. She may in a +way—and in a way she may not. She will be disturbing,—I +can see that already,—but she is stimulating. She may stir us +up to nobler endeavors."</p> +<p>"Did she say so?"</p> +<p>"Well—uh—something of the sort. I believe that +<i>was</i> the expression she used. I'll tell you what you do. You +come along with me and see the lady right now. They've had dinner +by this time."</p> +<p>Together we went and were presently climbing the stairs that led +to the second floor of the City Hotel.</p> +<p>Mrs. Potts received us graciously. Upon me she bestowed a glance +of friendly curiosity, as does a kind physician who waits to be +told of symptoms before prescribing. Upon Solon she bent a more +knowing look, as upon one whose frailties have already been +revealed. She gave us chairs and she talked. Little Roscoe Potts +writhed near by upon an ottoman and betrayed that he, too, could +talk when circumstances were kindly. The detail of their +personalities, salient in that first moment, was that Heaven had +denied them both the gift of reticence.</p> +<p>"Yes—I've been telling Mr. Denney—I feel that there +is a work here for me," she began briskly. "I felt it strongly when +I perused the columns of the newspaper which Mr. Denney was +thoughtful enough to send me."</p> +<p>Solon's eyes uneasily sought the cabbage-like flowers in the +faded carpet of the room.</p> +<p>"And I feel it more strongly now that I have ventured among +you," continued the lady, glowing upon us both.</p> +<p>"I have long suspected that it was a regrettable waste of energy +to send missionaries into heathen parts of the globe when there +remain so many unenlightened corners in our own land. It almost +seems now as if I had been guided here. It is true that my husband +has gone, but that shall not distress me. Rodney is a +drifter—I may say a natural-born drifter, and I cannot +undertake to follow him. I shall remain here. I have been +guided—" determination gleamed in her gray-green +eyes,—"I shall remain here and teach these poor people to +make something of themselves."</p> +<p>Solon drew a long breath. My own echoed it. Hereupon little +Roscoe broke into a high-pitched recitative.</p> +<p>"We are now in the great boundless West, a land of rough but +kind-hearted and worthy folk, and abounding with instructive sights +and scenes which are well calculated—"</p> +<p>"My son," interrupted his mother, "kindly tell the gentlemen +what should be your aim in life."</p> +<p>"To strive to improve my natural gifts by reading and +conversation," answered Roscoe, in one swift breath.</p> +<p>"Very good—<i>ver-ry</i> good—but for the present +you may <i>listen</i>. Now, Mr. Denney—" she turned to Solon +with the latest <i>Argus</i> in her hand,—"perusing your +sheet, my eye lights upon this sentence:—"</p> +<p>"'Lige Brackett Sundayed in our midst. He reports a busy time of +Fall ploughing over Bethel way.'</p> +<p>"Why 'Sundayed,' Mr. Denney?" She smiled brightly, almost +archly, at Solon. "I dare say you would not employ 'Mondayed' or +'Tuesdayed' or 'Wednesdayed.' You <i>see</i>? The term is what we +may call a vulgarism—you perceive that, do you +not?—likewise 'in our midst,' which is not accurate, of +course, and which would be indelicate if it were. Now I let my eye +descend the column to your account of a certain social function. +You say, 'The table fairly groaned with the weight of good things, +and a good time was had by all present.' Surely, Mr. Denney, you +are a man not without culture and refinement. Had you but taken +thought, you could as well have said that 'An elegant collation was +served, the menu including many choice delicacies, and the affair +was widely pronounced to be most enjoyable.'"</p> +<p>Solon's frightened eyes besought me, but I could not help him, +and again he was forced to meet the kindly, almost whimsically +accusing gaze of the censor, who was by no means done with him.</p> +<p>"Again I read here, 'The graveyard fence needs repairing badly.' +Do you not see, Mr. Denney, how far more refined it were to say +'God's acre,' or 'the marbled city of the dead'? I now turn from +mere solecisms to the broader question of taste. Under the heading +'Hanged in Carroll County,' I read an item beginning, 'At +eight-thirty, A.M., last Friday the soul of Martin G. Buckley, +dressed in a neat-fitting suit of black, with a low collar and +black cravat, was ushered into the presence of his God.' Pardon me, +but do we not find here, if we read closely, an attempt to blend +the material with the spiritual with a result that we can only +designate as infelicitous?"</p> +<p>Solon was writhing after the manner of uneasy little Roscoe. The +bland but inexorable regard of his inquisitor had subdued him +beyond retort.</p> +<p>"I might, again, call your attention to this item." And she did, +reading with well-trained inflection:—</p> +<p>"'Kye Mayabb from south of town and Sym Pleydell, who rents the +Clemison farm, met up in front of Barney Skeyhan's place last +Saturday afternoon and started to settle an old grudge, while their +respective better halves looked on from across the street. Kye had +Sym down and was doing some good work with his right, when his wife +called to him, "Now, Kye Mayabb, you come right away from there +before you get into trouble." Whereupon the valiant better half of +him who was being beaten to death called out cheerily, "Don't let +him scare you, Sym!" The boys made it up afterward, but our little +street was quite lively for a time.'</p> +<p>"Now as to that," went on Mrs. Potts, affecting to deliberate, +"could we not better have described that as 'a disgraceful street +brawl'? And yet I find no word of deprecation. It is told, indeed, +with a regrettable flippancy. Flippancy, I may note again, mars the +following item: 'They tell a good story of old Sarsius Lambert over +at Bethel. His wife was drowned a couple of weeks ago, and Link +Talbot went to break the news to the old man. "Uncle Sarsh," says +Link, "your wife is drowned. She fell in at the ford, and an hour +later they found her two miles down-stream." "Two miles an hour!" +said Uncle Sarsius, in astonishment. "Well, well, she floated down +quite lively, didn't she?"'</p> +<p>"You will pardon me, I trust," said Mrs. Potts, "if I say it +would have been better to speak of the grief-stricken husband and +to conclude with a fitting sentiment such as 'the proudest +monuments to the sleeping dead are reared in the hearts of the +living.'"</p> +<p>"I'll put it in next week," ventured Solon, meekly. "I didn't +think of it at the time."</p> +<p>"Ah, but one should <i>always think</i>, should one not?" asked +Mrs. Potts, almost sweetly. "By thinking, for example, you could +elevate your sheet by eliminating certain misapplied +colloquialisms. Here I read: 'The rain last week left the streets +in a frightful state. The mud simply won't jell.'"</p> +<p>Shame mantled the brow of Solon Denney.</p> +<p>"In short," concluded Mrs. Potts, "I regret to say that your +paper is not yet one that I could wish to put into the hands of my +little Roscoe."</p> +<p>Little Roscoe coughed sympathetically and remarked, before he +lost his chance for a word: "The boy of to-day is the man of +to-morrow. Parents cannot be too careful about what their little +ones will read during the long winter evenings that will soon be +upon us." He coughed again when he had finished.</p> +<p>"The press is a mighty lever of civilization," continued the +mother, with an approving glance at her boy, "and you, Mr. Denney, +should feel proud indeed of your sacred mission to instruct and +elevate these poor people. Of course I shall have other duties to +occupy my time—"</p> +<p>Solon had glanced up brightly, but gloom again overspread his +face as she continued:—</p> +<p>"Yet I shall make it not the least of my works—if a poor +weak woman may so presume—to help you in correcting certain +faults of style and taste in your sheet, for it goes each week into +many homes where the light must be sorely needed, and surely you +and I would not be adequately sensible of our responsibilities if +we continued to let it go as it is. <i>Would</i> we?" And again she +glowed upon Solon with the condescending sweetness of a +Sabbath-school teacher to the littlest boy in her class.</p> +<p>But now we both breathed more freely, for she allowed the +wretched <i>Argus</i> to drop from her disapproving fingers, and +began to ask us questions, as to a place of worship, a house +suitable for residence purposes, a school for little Roscoe, and +the nature of those clubs or societies for mental improvement that +might exist among us. And she asked about Families. We were obliged +to confess that there were no Families in Little Arcady, in the +true sense of the term, though we did not divine its true sense +until she favored us with the detail that her second cousin had +married a relative of the Adams family. We said honestly that we +were devoid of Families in that sense. None of us had ever been +able to marry an Adams. No Adams with a consenting mind—not +even a partial Adams—had ever come among us.</p> +<p>Still, Mrs. Potts wore her distinction gracefully, and was even +a little apologetic.</p> +<p>"In Boston, you know, we rather like to know 'who's who,' as the +saying is."</p> +<p>"Out here," said Solon, "we like to know what's what." He had +revived wonderfully after his beloved <i>Argus</i> was dropped. But +at his retort the lady merely elevated her rather fine brows and +remarked, "Really, Mr. Denney, you speak much as you +write—you must not let me forget to give you that little book +I spoke of."</p> +<p>As we went down the stairs Solon placed "One Hundred Common +Errors in Speaking and Writing" close under his arm, adroitly +shielding the title from public scrutiny. We stood a moment in the +autumn silence outside the hotel door, watching a maple across the +street, the line of its boughs showing strong and black amid its +airy yellow plumage. The still air was full of leaves that sailed +to earth in leisurely sadness. We were both thoughtful.</p> +<p>"Mrs. Potts is a very alert and capable woman," I said at last, +having decided that this would be the most suitable thing to +say.</p> +<p>"I tell you she has <i>powers</i>," said Solon, in a tone almost +of awe.</p> +<p>"She will teach you to make something of yourself," I +hazarded.</p> +<p>"One minute she makes me want to fight, and the next I +surrender," he answered pathetically.</p> +<p>We separated on this, Solon going toward the <i>Argus</i> office +with slow steps and bowed head, while I went thoughtfully abroad to +ease my nerves by watching the splendid death of summer. Above the +hills, now royally colored, as by great rugs of brown and crimson +velvet flung over their flanks, I seemed to hear the echoes of +ironic laughter—the laughter of perverse gods who had chosen +to avenge the slight put upon an inferior Potts.</p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CH11">CHAPTER XI</a></h2> +<center>HOW LITTLE ARCADY WAS UPLIFTED</center> +<p>The winter that followed proved to be a season of unrest for our +town. Mrs. Aurelia Potts was a leaven of yeast that fermented its +social waters, erstwhile calm, not to say stagnant.</p> +<p>Early in November an evening affair was held in her honor at the +Eubanks home. The Eubankses being our leading Presbyterians, and +Mrs. Potts having allied herself with that church, it was felt that +they were best fitted to give the lady her initial impression of +Little Arcady's society. Not only were the three Eubanks girls +talented, but the mother was a social leader, Eustace was +travelled, having been one of an excursion party to the Holy Land, +and the family had relatives living in Philadelphia. None of the +girls had married, nor had Eustace. The girls, it was said, had not +wished to marry. Eustace had earnestly wished to, it was known; but +two of our young women who had successively found favor in his +sight had failed to please his mother and sisters, and Eustace was +said to be watching and waiting for one upon whom all could agree, +though every one but Eustace himself knew this was an utterly +hopeless vigil. Meantime the mother and sisters looked up to him, +guarding him jealously from corrupting associations, saw that he +wore his overshoes when clouds lowered, and knitted him chest +protectors, gloves, and pulse warmers which he was not allowed to +forget. He taught the Bible Class in the Presbyterian Sabbath +school, sang bass in the choir, and, on occasion, gave an excellent +entertainment with his magic lantern, with views of the Holy Land, +which he explained with a running fire of comment both instructive +and entertaining.</p> +<p>The Eubanks home that evening was said by a subsequent +<i>Argus</i> to have been "ablaze with lights" and "its handsome +and spacious parlors thronged with the elite of the town who had +gathered to do honor to the noted guest of the evening."</p> +<p>There first occurred a piano duet, rendered expertly by the two +younger Misses Eubanks, "Listen to the Mocking Bird," with some +bewildering variations of an imitative value, done by the Miss +Eubanks seated at the right.</p> +<p>Then the front parlor was darkened and, after the consequent +tittering among the younger set had died away, Eustace threw his +pictures upon a hanging sheet and delivered his agreeable lecture +about them, beginning with the exciting trip from Jaffa to +Jerusalem. Most of those present had enjoyed the privilege of this +lecture enough times to know what picture was coming next and what +Eustace would say about it. But it was thought graceful now, +considering the presence of a stranger, to simulate the expectancy +of the uninformed, and to emit little gasps of astonished delight +when Eustace would say, "Passing from the city gates, we next come +upon a view that is well worthy a moment of our attention."</p> +<p>With the lights up again, a small flask of water from the river +Jordan was handed about, to be examined, by those who knew it too +well, in the same loyal spirit of curiosity. A guest would hold it +reverently a moment, then glance up in search of some one to whom +it might be heartily extended.</p> +<p>This over, the elder Miss Eubanks—Marcella of the severe +mien—sang interestingly, "I gathered Shells upon the Shore," +and for an encore, in response to eager demands, "Comin' thro' the +Rye." Not coyly did she give this, with inciting, blushing +implications, but rather with an unbending, disapproving sternness, +as if with intent to divert the minds of her listeners from the +song's frank ribaldry to its purely musical values.</p> +<p>Eustace followed with a solo:—</p> +<blockquote> +<p>"Nigh to a grave that was newly made,<br /> +Leaned a sexton old on his earth-worn spade."</p> +</blockquote> +<p>In the very low parts, where the sexton old is required to say, +"I gather them in," he was most effective, and many of his more +susceptible hearers shuddered. For an encore he sang, "I am the old +Turnkey," which goes lower and lower with deliberate steps until it +descends to incredible depths of bassness.</p> +<p>It was a rare comfort to the Eubanks ladies that Eustace was a +bass instead of a tenor. They had observed that most tenor songs +are of a suggestive and meretricious character. Arthur Updyke, for +example, who clerked in the city drug store, was a tenor, and +nearly all of his songs were distressingly sentimental; indeed, +fairly indelicate at times in their lack of reserve about kisses +and embraces and sighs and ecstasies. Glad indeed were the +guardians of Eustace that his voice had lowered to a salutary +depth, and that bass songs in general were pure and +innocent,—songs of death, of dungeons, of honest war, or of +diving beneath the deep blue sea—down, down, down, as far as +the singer's chest tones permitted. With "Euty" a tenor, warbling +those pernicious boudoir <i>chansons</i> of moonlight and longing +of sighing love and anguished passion, they suspected that he would +have been harder to manage. Even as it was, he had once brought +home a most dreadful thing called "A Bedouin Love Song," for a bass +voice, truly enough, but so fearfully outspoken about matters far +better left unmentioned among nice people that the three girls had +fled horrified from the room after that first verse:—</p> +<blockquote> +<p>"From the desert I come to thee,<br /> +On a stallion shod with fire,<br /> +And the wind is left behind<br /> +In the speed of my desire."</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The mother sped to her daughters' appeal for help and required +her son to sing "The Lost Chord" as a febrifuge. The other song was +confiscated after the mother had read the words so unblushingly +penned by an author whom she ever afterward deemed an abandoned +profligate. She considered that Bedouins must be unspeakable +creatures—but how much lower the mind that could portray +their depravity, and send it out into the world for innocent young +men to carol in the homes of our best people!</p> +<p>Thereafter Eustace sang only songs that had been censored by his +family, and his repertoire was now stainless, containing no song in +which a romantic attachment was even hinted at; but only those +reciting wholesome adventures, military and marine, pastoral scenes +and occupations, or the religious experience of the singer.</p> +<p>In the words of the <i>Argus</i>, "his powerful singing was +highly enjoyed by all present."</p> +<p>There followed the feature of the evening,—a paper read by +Mrs. Potts; subject, "The Message of Emerson." With an agreeable +public manner the lady erected herself at one corner of a square +piano, placed her manuscripts under the shaded lamp, and began. The +subject, aforetime made known among us, had been talked about and +perhaps a little wondered at. It is certain, at least, that Westley +Keyts had yielded to the urging of his good wife to be present in +the belief that a man named Emerson had sent Mrs. Potts a telegram +to be read to us. This was what "the message of Emerson" meant to +Westley, and the novelty of it had seemed to justify what he called +"togging up," after a hard day's work at the slaughter-house.</p> +<p>If, then, he listened to Mrs. Potts at first with +wonder-widening eyes, amazed at Mr. Emerson's recklessness in the +matter of telegrams, and if at last he fell into gentle slumber, +perhaps it was only that he had been less hardened than others +present to the rigors of social nicety. No one else fell asleep, +but it was noticed that the guests, when the paper was done, +praised it to one another in swift generalities and with averted +face, as if they sought to evade specific or pointed inquiry as to +its import. But the impression made by the reader was all that she +could have wished, and the gathering was presently engrossed with +refreshments. The <i>Argus</i> stated that "a dainty collation was +served to all present, the menu comprising the choicest delicacies +of the season," which I took to mean that Solon was trying to +profit by instruction; and that never again would he permit a table +in the <i>Argus</i> to groan with its weight of good things.</p> +<p>Westley Keyts, being skilfully awakened without scandal by his +wife, drank a cup of strong coffee to clear his brain, and +cordially consumed as many segments of cake as he was able to glean +from passing trays, speculating comfortably, meanwhile, about the +message of Emerson,—chiefly as to why Emerson had not sent it +by mail, thus saving—he estimated—at least a hundred +and twenty dollars in telegraph tolls.</p> +<p>Mrs. Potts, thus auspiciously launched upon the social sea of +Little Arcady, was henceforth to occupy herself prominently with +the regulation of its ebb and flow. Already she had organized a +"Ladies' Literary and Home Study Club," and had promised to read a +paper on "The Lesson of Greek Art" at its first meeting a week +hence. As the <i>Argus</i> observed, "it was certainly a gala +occasion, and one and all felt that it was indeed good to be +there."</p> +<p>In addition to elevating the tone of our intellectual life, +however, Mrs. Potts found it necessary to support herself and her +son. That she could devise a way to merge these important duties +will perhaps be surmised. Comfortably installed in a cottage at the +south end of town with her household belongings, including a chair +once sat in by the Adams-husband of her heaven-favored second +cousin, she lost no time in prosecuting her double mission. The +title of the work with which she began her task of uplifting our +masses was "Gaskell's Compendium of Forms," a meritorious +production of amazing and quite infinite scope, elegantly +illustrated. The book weighed five pounds and cost three dollars, +which was sixty cents a pound, as Westley Keyts took the trouble to +ascertain. But it was indeed a work admirably calculated for a +community of diversified interests. While Solon Denney might occupy +himself with the "Aid to English Composition," including "common +errors corrected, good taste, figures of speech, and sentence +building," the Eubanks ladies could further inform themselves upon +grave affairs of "The Home and Family,—Life, Health, +Happiness, Human Love," etc., or upon more frivolous concerns, such +as "Introductions and Salutations, Carriage and Horseback Riding, +Croquet, Archery, and Matinee parties, and the Art of +Conversation." While Asa Bundy interested himself in "History of +Banking, Forms of Notes, Checks and Drafts, Interest and Usury +Tables, etc.," Truman Baird, who meant some day to go to Congress, +might perfect himself in Parliamentary law and oratory, an +exposition of the latter art being illumined by wood-cuts of a +bearded and handsome gentleman in evening dress who assumed the +various positions of emotion or passion, as, in "Figure +8.—This gesture is used in concession, submission, humility," +or, in Figure 9, which diagrams reproach, scorn, and contempt. +While Truman sought to copy these attitudes, to place the feet +aright for Earnest Appeal or Bold Assertion, or to clasp the hands +as directed for Supplication and Earnest Entreaty, the ladies of +the Literary and Home Study Club conned the chapter on American +literature, "containing choice proverbs and literary selections and +quotations from the poets of the old and new worlds." Our merchants +found information as to "Jobbing, Importing and Other Business," +and our young ladies could observe the correct forms for "Letters +of Love and Courtship," "Apology for a Broken Engagement," "French +Terms used in Dancing," "Rights of Married Women," "The Necessity +and Sweetness of Home," and "Marriage—Happiness or Woe may +come of It."</p> +<p>Again, Westley Keyts could read how to cut up meats. He knew +already, but this chapter, illustrated with neat carcasses marked +off into numbered squares, convinced him that the book was not so +light as some of its other chapters indicated, and determined him +to its purchase.</p> +<p>And there were letters for every conceivable emergency. "To a +Young Man who has quarrelled with his Master," "Dismissing a +Teacher," "Inquiry for Lost Baggage," "With a Basket of Fruit to an +Invalid," and "To a Gentleman elected to Congress." Rare indeed, in +our earth life, would be the crisis unmet by this treasury of +knowledge. Not only was there an elevation of tone in our +correspondence that winter, resulting from the persuasive +activities of Mrs. Potts, but our writing became decorative with +flourishes in "the muscular" and "whole-arm" movements. We learned +to draw flying birds and bounding deer and floating swans with +scrolls in their beaks, all without lifting pen from paper. Some of +us learned to do it almost as well as the accomplished Mr. Gaskell +himself, and almost all of us showed marked improvement in +penmanship. Doubtless Truman Baird did not, he being engrossed with +oratory, striving to reproduce, "Hate—the right foot +advanced, the face turned to the sky, the gaze directed upward with +a fierce expression, the eyes full of a baleful light," or other +phases of passion duly set down. Not for Truman was the ornate +full-arm flourish; he had observed that all Congressmen write very +badly.</p> +<p>But my namesake may be said to have laid the foundations that +winter for an excellent running chirography, under the combined +stimuli of Mr. Gaskell's curves and a hopeless passion for his +school-teacher.</p> +<p>As my own teacher had been my own first love, I knew all that he +suffered in voiceless longing for his fair one, throned afar in his +languishing gaze. I knew that he plucked flowers meant to be given +to her, only to lay them carelessly on the floor beside his seat +when school "took in," lacking the courage to bestow them brazenly +upon his idol as others did. I knew, too, his thrill when she came +straight down the aisle, took up the flowers with a glance of sweet +reproof for him, and nested them in the largest vase on her desk. +But my poor affair had been in an earlier day, and my namesake wove +novelty into the woof of his. For in that wonder-book of the +fertile-minded Gaskell was a form of letter which Calvin Blake +Denney began to copy early in December, and which by the following +spring he could write in a style that already put my own poor +penning to the blush. Did he write it a hundred times or five +hundred, moved anew each time by its sweet potencies, its rarest of +suggestions? I know not, but it must have been very many times, for +I would find the copies in his school books, growing in beauty of +flourish day by day. As well as if he had confessed it I knew that +this letter was intended for the father of his love—for old +Sam Murdock, to be literal, who uncouthly performed for us the +offices of drayman; but who, in my namesake's eyes, shone pure and +splendid for his relationship. Doubtless the letter was never sent, +but I am sure it was written each time with an iron resolve to send +it. Its title in the excellent book was "From a Lover to a Father +on his Attachment to the Daughter," and it ran:—</p> +<blockquote> +<p>DEAR SIR: As I scorn to act in any manner that may bring +reproach upon myself and family, and hold clandestine proceedings +unbecoming in any man of character, I take the liberty of +distinctly avowing my love for your daughter and humbly request +your permission to pay her my addresses, as I flatter myself my +family and expectancies will be found not unworthy of your notice. +I have some reason to imagine that I am not altogether disagreeable +to your daughter, but I assure you that I have not as yet +endeavored to win her affections, for fear it might be repugnant to +a father's will. I am, etc.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Under this was provided "A Favorable Answer," in which Sam +Murdock might have said that he had long perceived this thing and +applauded it, and would the young man "dine with us to-morrow at +six if you are not engaged, and you will then have an opportunity +to plead your own cause." But chillingly after this graceful assent +followed an "Unfavorable Answer," which Sam Murdock would also see +when he opened the book at page 251; and still more portentously on +the same page was a letter which Miss Selina Murdock herself might +choose to write him, a sickening and dreadful thing entitled, +"Unfavorable Reply on the Ground of Poverty."</p> +<p>"To say that I do not feel pleased and flattered at your +proposal would be to tell a useless untruth," the thing began +speciously. "But how are we situated, what hope of happiness with +our unsettled prospects and worse than small means? Industry has +doubtless never been and never will be wanting on your part, +but—" and so to its dreadful end. It was almost base in its +coldness and mercenary calculation. That phrase about the "useless +untruth" implied even a dubious and considering morality; and the +conclusion, "we must not entail misery upon others as well as +ourselves by a too hasty step," argued a nature cautious in the +extreme.</p> +<p>Yet Mr. Gaskell was too evidently a man of the world, knowing in +his ripe experience that there existed a sufficient number of such +cold natures to warrant the obtrusion of this heart-rending +formula; and I doubt not that these negative specimens of the +possible alone restrained my namesake from going beyond mere copies +of that first letter.</p> +<p>It will be seen that the influence of Mrs. Potts pervaded our +utmost social and commercial limits. And when the "Compendium" had +become a centre-table ornament in the homes of the rich, and a bulky +object of awe in humbler abodes, she went over the ground again +with other volumes calculated to serve her double purpose, from +"Dr. Chase's Receipt Book" to "Picturesque Italy, profusely +Illustrated." She also purveyed a line of "art-pieces," including +"Wide Awake and Fast Asleep," "The Monarch of the Glen," "Woman +Gathering Fagots," and "Retreat from Moscow." Also, little Roscoe, +out of school hours, took subscriptions for the <i>Youth's +Companion</i>.</p> +<p>Yet the town long bore it with a gentle fortitude. I believe it +was not until the following spring that murmurs were really +noticeable. Naturally they were directed against Solon Denney. By +that time Westley Keyts was greeting Solon morosely, though without +open cavil; but Asa Bundy no longer hesitated to speak out. He +quoted Scripture to Solon about the house that was swept and +garnished, and the seven other wicked spirits that entered it, +making its last state worse than its first.</p> +<p>And of course Solon was much troubled by this, though he never +failed to rally to the support of the lady thus maligned, dwelling +upon the advantage her mere presence must always be to the +town.</p> +<p>"If she'd only let it go at that—'her mere +presence'—" rejoined Bundy. But Solon protested, defending +the lady's activities. He became sensitive to any mention of her +name, and fell to brooding. He believed her to be a model woman, +and little Roscoe to be a model boy.</p> +<p>"Why don't you try to be more like Roscoe Potts?" I heard him +ask his son in a moment of reproof.</p> +<p>My namesake took it meekly; but to me, privately, he +said:—</p> +<p>"Hunh! I can lick Ginger Potts with one hand tied behind +me!"</p> +<p>"How do you know?" I asked sternly.</p> +<p>He wriggled somewhat at this, but at length confided in me.</p> +<p>"Well, there's a sell, you know, Uncle Maje. You say, 'They're +goin' to tear the schoolhouse down,' or something like that, and +the other boy says, 'What fur?' and then you say, quick as you can, +'Cat-fur to make kitten britches of,' and then we all laugh and +yell, and I caught Ginger Potts on it, and he got mad when we +yelled and come at me, and they pushed him against me and they +pushed me against him, and they said he dassent, and they said I +dassent, and then it happened, only when I got him down, he begun +to say, 'Oh, it's wrong to fight! I promised my mother I would +never fight!' but I wouldn't 'a' stopped for <i>that</i>, because +teacher says he's by far the brightest boy in school—only +just then Eustace Eubanks come along, and he laid down the meat he +was taking home to dinner and jumped into the crowd and says: +'Boys, boys, shame on you to act so like the brutes! <i>That</i> +isn't any way to act!' and he pulled me off'n Ginger, and—and +that's all, but I had him licked fair."</p> +<p>"I shall not tell your father of this," I said sternly.</p> +<p>"He has enough to worry him," said my namesake.</p> +<p>"Exactly," I said. "But I advise you to cultivate a friendly +feeling for Roscoe Potts. Boys should not fight."</p> +<p>"Well—now—I would—but he's a regular teacher's +pet."</p> +<p>And remembering the letter that was not sent to Sam +Murdock,—that the teacher was my namesake's love,—I +perceived that this breach was not to be healed.</p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CH12">CHAPTER XII</a></h2> +<center>TROUBLED WATERS ARE STILLED</center> +<p>It was spring again, a Sunday in early May, warm, humid, scented +with blossoms that were bodied souls of the laughing air. They +starred the bank that fell away from my porch to the clear-watered +river, and they sang of the young spirit that lives in this old +earth so deceptively, defacing it with false scars of age, and +craftily permitting us to count years by the thousand, yet +remaining always as fresh in itself as on the primal morning when +the world was found good by that ill-fated but joyous first pair of +lovers. I marvel that so many are fooled by the trick; how so few +of us detect that the soul of it all is ageless—has never +even wearied. The blossoms told this secret now in quiet triumph +over the denials of ancient oaks that towered above them and +murmured solemn falsities in their tops about the incredible +oldness of things.</p> +<p>There was the star-shaped bloodroot, with its ten or a dozen +petals of waxen white set with jewel-like precision about a centre +of dead gold. There was the less formal phlox of a pinkish purple; +deer's-tongue, white and yellow; frail anemones, both pink and +white; small but stately violets, and the wake-robin with its +wine-red centre among long green leaves. There was a dogwood in the +act of unfolding its little green tents that would presently be +snow-white, and a plum tree ruffled with tiny flowers of a honied +fragrance.</p> +<p>With a fine Japanese restraint, Clem had placed a single bough +of these in a dull-colored vase on my out-of-doors breakfast +table.</p> +<p>All these were to say that the soul of the world is ageless, and +that time is but a cheap device to measure our infirmities. Above, +the trees were hinting that life might still be lived acceptably, +as in Eden days; though they seemed to suspect that the stage of it +to which they were amazedly awakening must be at least the autumn, +and timidly clothed themselves accordingly. The elm, the first big +tree to stir in its sleep, showed tiny, curled leaflets of a +doubting, yellowish green; and the later moving oaks were frankly +sceptical, one glowing faintly brown and crimson, another silvery +gray and pink. They would need at least ten more days to convince +them into downright summer greenery, even though slender-throated +doves already mated in their tops with a perfect confidence.</p> +<p>It was an early morning hour, when it was easy to believe in the +perfect fitness of Little Arcady's name; an hour in a time when the +Potts-troubled waters had been mercifully stilled by the hand of +God; an hour when the spirit of each Little Arcadian might share to +its own fulness in the large serenity of the ageless +world-soul.</p> +<p>I recalled Mrs. Potts's paper on "The Lesson of Greek Art," +which had enriched two columns of the <i>Argus</i> after its +reading to the ladies of the Literary and Home Study Club. It +seemed to me that the Greeks must have divined this important +secret of the vegetable world—the secret of ageless +time—and that therein lay the charm of them; that spirit of +ever freshening joy which they chiselled and sang into tangible +grace for us of a later and heavier age.</p> +<p>At the moment I was on the porch, waiting for my coffee, and my +thought seemed to be shared by Jim, my bony young setter, who, +being but a scant year old, had not yet forgotten the lesson of +Greek art. Over the grassy stretch before the porch he chased +robins tirelessly, though with indifferent success. His was a +spirit truly Greek. I knew it by reason of his inexhaustible +enthusiasm for this present sport after a year's proving that +chased birds will rise strangely but expertly into air that no dog +can climb by any device of whining, leaping, or straining.</p> +<p>Living on into the Renaissance, I saw that Jim would be taught +the grievous thing called wisdom—would learn his limitations +and to form habits tamely contrary to his natural Greek likings. +Then would he honorably neglect rabbits and all fur, cease pointing +droves of pigs, and quit the silly chase of robins. Under +check-cord and spike-collar he would become a fast and stylish dog, +clean-cut in his bird work, perhaps a field-trial winner. He would +learn to take reproof amiably, to "heel" at a word, to respect the +whistle at any distance, to be steady to shot and wing, to retrieve +promptly from land or water, and never to bolt or range beyond +control or be guilty of false pointing.</p> +<p>I knew that coercion, steadily and tactfully applied, would thus +educate him, for was he not of champion ancestry, wearing his +pedigree in his looks, with the narrow shoulders so desirable and +so rarely found, with just the right number of hairs at the end of +his tail, the forelegs properly feathered, the feet and ankles +strong, the right amount of leather in his ear to the fraction of +an inch,—a dog, in short, of beauty, style, speed, nose, and +brains?</p> +<p>But in this full moment of a glad morning I resolved that Jim +should never know the Renaissance; he should never emerge from what +Mrs. Potts had gracefully described as "the golden age of +Pericles."</p> +<p>To the end of his days he should be blithely, naïvely +Greek; a dog of wretched field manners, pointing cattle and quail +impartially, shamefully gun-shy, inconsequent, volatile, ignorant, +forever paganly joyous without due cause. For him I should do what +no one had been able to do for me—detain him in that "world +of fine fabling" where everything is true that ought to be; where +the earth is a running course, fascinating in its surprises of open +road and tangled hedgerow; where mere indiscriminate smelling is +keenest ecstasy; and where the fact that robins have eluded one's +fleetest rush to-day, by an amazing and unfair trick of levitation, +is not the slightest promise that they can escape our interested +mouthing on the morrow.</p> +<p>Doubtless he would be a remarkably foolish dog in his old age; +but I, growing old beside him, would learn wisely foolish things +from his excellent folly. I knew we should both be happier for it; +knew it was best for us both to prove that my thin white friend had +been born chiefly to display the acute elegance of his bones and +the beauty of hopeful effort.</p> +<p>It was this last that kept him thin. When I took to the road, he +travelled five miles to my every one, circling me widely, ranging +far over the hills in mad dashes, or running straight and swiftly +on the road, vanishing in a white fog of dust. Walking slowly to +avoid this, I would only meet him emerging from a fresh cloud of it +with a glad tongue thrown out to the breeze. Again, there were +desperate plunges into wayside underbrush or down steep ravines, +whence I would hear rapid splashing through a hidden stream and +short, plaintive cries to tell that that wonderful, unseen +wood-presence of a thousand provoking scents had once more +cunningly evaded him.</p> +<p>Also did he love to swim stoutly across a field of growing +wheat, his head alone showing above the green waves. And if the +wheat were tall, he still braved it—lost to sight at the +bottom. Then one might observe the mystery of a furrow ploughing +itself swiftly across the billows without visible agency.</p> +<p>When I do not walk, to give countenance to his running, he has a +game of his own. He plays it with an ancient fur cap that he keeps +conveniently stored. The cap represents a prey of considerable +dignity which must be sprung upon and shaken again and again until +it is finally disabled. Then it is to be seized by implacable jaws +and swiftly run with about the yard in a feverish pretence that +enemies wish to ravish it from its captor. Any chance observer is +implored to humor this pretence, and upon his compliance he is fled +from madly, or perhaps turned upon and growled at most directly, if +he show signs of losing interest in the game.</p> +<p>This ceaseless motion, with its attendant nervous strains, has +prevented any accumulation of flesh, and explains the name of Slim +Jim affixed to him by my namesake.</p> +<p>Jim consented now to rest for a moment at my feet, though at a +loss to know how I could be calm amid so many exciting smells. I +promised him as he lay there that he should never be compelled to +learn any but the fewest facts necessary to make him as harmless as +he was happy; chiefly not to bark at old ladies and babies, no +matter how threatening their aspect, as they passed our house. A +few things he had already learned—to avoid fences of the +barbed wire, to respect the big cat from across the way who +sometimes called and treated him with watchful disdain, and not to +chew a baby robin if by any chance he caught one. This last had +been a hard lesson, his first contact with a problem only a few +days younger than Eden itself. It came to his understanding, +however, that if you mouth a helpless baby robin, a hand or a stick +falls upon you hurtfully, even if you evade it for the moment and +seclude yourself under a porch until it would seem that so trifling +an occurrence must have been utterly forgotten. This was the one +big sin—sin, to the best of our knowledge, being obedience to +any natural desire, the satisfaction of which is unaccountably +followed by pain.</p> +<p>I told him this would probably be all that he need ever know; +and he looked up at me in a fashion he has, the silky brown ears +falling either side of the white face. It is a look of languishing, +melting adoration, and if I face him steadily, he must always turn +away as if to avoid being overcome—as if the sight of beauty +so great as mine could be borne full in the eyes only for the +briefest of moments.</p> +<p>But Clem came now, ranging my breakfast dishes about the bowl of +plum flowers, and I approached the table with all the ardor he +could have wished at his softly spoken, "Yo' is suhved, Mahstah +Majah."</p> +<p>The sight of Clem, however, inevitably suggests the person to +whom I am indebted for his sustaining ministrations. Potts had been +a necessary instrument in one of those complications which the gods +devise among us human ephemera for their mild amusement on a day of +<i>ennui</i>. And Potts, having served his purpose, had been neatly +removed. I have said that the Potts-troubled waters of Little +Arcady were for the moment stilled. By the hands of the gods had +they been mercifully stilled so that not for a month had any +citizen been asked to subscribe for any improving book or patented +device of culture.</p> +<p>A month before, in a far-off place, J. Rodney Potts had suffered +extinction through the apparently casual agency of a moving railway +train, the intervention of the gods in all such matters being +discreetly veiled so that the denser of us shall suspect nothing +but that they were the merest of accidents.</p> +<p>One could only surmise that the widow viewed this happening with +a kind of trustful resignation, sweetened perhaps by certain +ancient memories attuned to a gentle melancholy. I know that she +placed on view in her parlor for the first time a crayon portrait +of Potts in his early manhood, one made ere life had broken so many +of its promises to him, the portrait of one who might conceivably +have enchained the fancy of even a superior woman. But the widow +was not publicly anguished. She donned a gown and bonnet of black +in testimony of her bereavement, but there was no unnecessary +flaunt of crape in her decently symbolic garb. As Aunt Delia +McCormick phrased it, she was not in "heavy mourning,"—merely +"in light distress."</p> +<p>The town was content to let it go at that, especially after the +adjustment of certain formalities which enabled the widow for a +time to suspend her work of ministering to its higher wants.</p> +<p>The railway company had at first, it appeared, been disposed to +view its removal of Potts very lightly indeed; not only because of +his unimposing appearance, but by reason of his well-attested +mental condition at the time of the occurrence—a condition +clearly self-induced, and one that placed him beyond those measures +of safety which a common carrier is obliged to exercise in behalf +of its patrons.</p> +<p>But a package of letters had been discovered among the meagre +belongings of the unfortunate man, and these had placed the matter +in a very different light. They showed conclusively that the victim +had been of importance, a citizen of rare values in any community +that he might choose to favor with his presence.</p> +<p>Truman Baird settled the case and, after these letters had been +appraised by the corporation's attorney, he succeeded in extorting +the sum of eight hundred dollars from the railway as recompense to +the widow for the loss of her husband's services. I considered that +the company would have given up at least five hundred more to avoid +being sued for the death of a man who had been able to evoke those +letters; but I did not say so, for the case was Truman's and eight +hundred dollars were many. Westley Keyts thought they were, indeed, +a great many, and outrageously excessive as a cold money valuation +of Potts. "She only got eight hundred dollars, but there's them +that thinks she skinned the company at <i>that!</i>" said +Westley.</p> +<p>But there was no disposition to begrudge the widow a single +dollar of this modest sum. A jury of Little Arcadians would have +multiplied it tenfold without a blush; for, while that little hoard +endured, any citizen, however public spirited, could flavor with a +certain grace his refusal to subscribe for a book.</p> +<p>To Solon Denney the thing came as a deep and divine relief. In +the satisfaction induced by it, he penned an obituary of Potts in +which he employed the phrase "grim messenger of death" very +cleverly indeed. For matters had been going from bad to worse. +Murmurs at the demands of Mrs. Potts—likened by Asa Bundy to +a daughter of the horse leech—had become passionately loud as +our masses toiled expensively up that Potts-defined path of +enlightenment. The old sneer at Solon's Boss-ship was again to be +observed on every hand, that attitude of doubting ridicule, +half-playful, half-contemptuous, which your public man finds more +dangerous to his influence than downright hostility would be.</p> +<p>But the murmurs were again stilled, and Solon might breathe the +peace of a golden age when as yet no Potts, male or female, had +come unto us.</p> +<p>It was not felt at all that Solon's genius for the discretion of +public affairs had availed him in this latest crisis. But the +benefit was substantial, none the less, and the columns of the +<i>Argus</i> were again buoyant as of yore. It was at this time, I +remember, that the <i>Argus</i> first spoke of our town as "a gem +at beauty's throat," and, touching the rare enterprise of our +citizens, declared that, "If you put a Slocum County man astride a +streak of lightning, he'd call for a pair of spurs."</p> +<p>For myself, I frankly mourned Potts. For I saw now that he had +been truly and finely of that Greek spirit—one accepting +gifts from the gods with a joyous young faith in their continuance. +I felt that he had divined more of the lesson of Greek art than his +one-time love could write down in papers unending. I should not +have wished him back in Little Arcady, but I did breathe a prayer +that he might in some early Greek elysium be indeed "Potts +forever." Might it not be? Had not that other paper on "the message +of Emerson" hinted of "compensation" in a jargon that sounded +authoritative?</p> +<p>And now, as I breakfasted, my attention was invited anew to that +fateful, never ending extension of the Potts-made ripples in our +little pool. I was threatened with the loss of my domestic stay; +again might I be forced to the City Hotel's refectory of a thousand +blended smells and spotty table-linen; or even to irksome adventure +at the board of the self-lauded Budd.</p> +<p>There was selfish wonder in my heart as I listened to Clem, who, +now that my second cup of coffee competed with the May blossoms, +stood by to tell me of his worldly advancement and the nearing of a +time when Miss Caroline should come among us to be independent.</p> +<p>His stubborn industry had counted. The vegetable and melon crop +of the year before had been abundant and well sold, despite sundry +raids upon the latter by nameless boys, who, he assured me, "hain't +had no raght raisin'." And he had further swelled that hoard of +"reglah gole money" in Bundy's bank by his performances of +house-cleaning, catering, and his work as janitor; not a little, +too, by sales of the fish he caught. He was believed to possess a +secret charm that made his fish-bait irresistible. Certainly his +fortune in this matter was superior to that of any other frequenter +of the bass nooks below the dam.</p> +<p>And now he had waxed so heavy of purse that a woman could come +between us,—a selfish woman, I made no doubt, pampered +survival of a pernicious and now happily destroyed system, who +would not only unsettle my domestic tranquillity, but would, in all +likelihood, fetch another alien ferment into our already sorely +tried existence as a town needing elevation. It seemed, indeed, +that we were never to be done with these consequences.</p> +<p>Separated from my house by a stretch of weedy lawn was a +shambling structure built years before by one Azariah Prouse, who +believed among other strange matters that the earth is flat and +that houses are built higher than one story only at great peril, +because of the earth's proneness to tip if overbalanced. Prouse had +compromised with this belief, however, and made his house a story +and a half high, in what I conceive to have been a dare-devil +spirit. The reckless upper rooms were thus cut off untimely by +ceilings of sudden slope, and might not be walked in uprightly save +by persons of an inconsiderable stature.</p> +<p>In a fulness of years Azariah had died and been chested, like +Joseph of old, his soul to be gathered, as he believed, to another +horizontal plane, exalted far above this, as would befit an abode +for spirits of the departed good.</p> +<p>His earthly home, now long vacant, had been rented by Clem for a +monthly sum not particularly cheap in view of its surprising +limitations above stairs. It was of this new home that he chiefly +talked to me, of the persistence required to have it newly painted +by the inheriting Prouse, and repairs made to doors, windows, and +the blinds that hung awry from them.</p> +<p>"An' Ah been cleanin'—yes, seh, Mahstah Majah—fum +celleh to gahet. Them floahs do shine an' them windows is jes' so +clean they look lahk they ain't theah at all. Miss Cahline an' +Little Miss, they reside on th' lowah floah, an' Ah tek mahse'f up +to that theh gahet. Yes, seh, Ah haf to scrooge aw Ah git mah haid +knocked off, but Ah reckon Ah sho' will luhn to remembeh in Gawd's +own time. An' they's a tehible grand hen-house. Ah'm go'n' a' raise +a hund'ed thousan' yellow-laiged pullets; an' theh's a staihway +down to th' watah whah Ah kin tie up mah ole catfish boat, an' a +monst'ous big gyahden whah Ah kin keep mah fie'ce look on them mush +an' watah melons. Ah don' want t' git into any mo' alterations with +them boys, but Ah suttinly will weah 'em out if they don't mind +theah cautions. Yes, seh,—we all go'n' a' have a raght +tolable homeplace."</p> +<p>Then my grievance prompted me.</p> +<p>"Yes, and who's going to get my breakfast and dinner for me, +then?" I asked with a dark look, but he beamed upon me +placatingly.</p> +<p>"Oh, Ah's still go'n' a' do fo yo', Mahstah Majah. Ah steddied +huh all out twell she's plumb systemous. Miss Cahline sh' ain't +wantin' huh breakfus' twell yo's done, an' she'll tek huh dinneh +uhliah. Ah manage, Mahstah Majah. Ah mek all mah reddiments, yes, +seh—yo's go'n' a' be jes' lahk mah own folks."</p> +<p>I affected to be made more cheerful by this, but I knew that no +man can serve two masters, especially when he is the "pussenal +propity" of one; but I forbore to warn the deluded African of the +tribulations ahead of him.</p> + + + + +<p class="figure"><img width="50%" src="images/illp163.png" alt= +"THE BOOK OF MISS CAROLINE" /></p> +<center><h4>"THE BOOK OF MISS CAROLINE"</h4></center> + + + + +<h2><a name="CH13">CHAPTER XIII</a></h2> +<center>A CATASTROPHE IN FURNITURE</center> +<p>"Miss Cahline comin' this yeh time a' yeah so's 't'll seem mo' +soft an' homelike. Ah gaiss she go'n' a' sprighten raght up when +she see th' summeh time all pleasant."</p> +<p>Thus Clem said to me a few weeks later, and I praised his +thoughtfulness. But I nursed misgivings both for Miss Caroline and +for Little Arcady. How would they take each other? I conceived Miss +Caroline to be a formidable person whom Little Miss resembled, Clem +said, "as aigs look lahk aigs." No further detail could I elicit +from him save that his Mistress was "not fleshily inclahned," and +that Little Miss was "sweetah'n honey on a rag!"</p> +<p>They would find our summer acceptable, even after a Southern +summer heavy-sweet with magnolia and jasmine, honeysuckle and +mimosa; with spirea and bridal-wreath and white-blossomed sloe +trees. And the house as put to rights by Clem would be found at +least endurable. It had not the solid grace nor the columned front +of the houses I had somewhat hurriedly admired in the Southland +some years before, but its lower rooms were wide, its windows +abundant, and outwardly it had escaped the blight of the scroll +saw.</p> +<p>But the civilization of Little Arcady would be alien to the +newcomers, and I was apprehensive that it would also be +difficult.</p> +<p>Further, I suspected that J.R.C. Tuckerman, with all his genius +for hard work, lacked the administrative gifts of a true financier. +He said a hundred thousand pullets when he should have said +twenty-five, and he seemed to consider his banked hoard of gold +money to be inexhaustible when it was in fact merely a sum slightly +greater than he was wont to juggle with in his darkened mind.</p> +<p>I was not surprised, therefore, when I found him rather +dejectedly sunk in figures one afternoon about a week after Miss +Caroline's "home-fixin's" had begun to arrive.</p> +<p>These were all about him at the front door, in the hall, and +extending far into the rooms, a truly depressing chaos of packing +boxes, swathed tables, chairs, bureaus, and barrels of china. Nor +was this all; for even as I loitered up to the door the dray of Sam +Murdock halted in front with another huge load.</p> +<p>Clem raised his head from a sheet of sprawled figures and +regarded this fresh trouble with something like consternation. In +one hand he fluttered a packet of receipted freight bills, and he +spoke as one in an evil dream.</p> +<p>"Yes, seh, Mahstah Majah, it suttinly do seem lahk them railroad +genamen would git monst'ous rich a-runnin' them freight trains +about th' kentry th' way lahk they do. Ah allus think them ole +freight cyahs look maghty cheap an' common a-rattlin' around, but +Ah teks mah ole hat off to um yehafteh. Yes, seh, Ah lays Ah will! +Them engineahs an' fiahmen an' them Cunnels with gole on they hats, +Ah gaiss they go'n' a' have all th' money in th' world maghty +shawtly. They looks highly awdinahy an' unpetentious, but they +suttinly p'duces th' revenue. Ah sho'ly go'n' a' repoht mahse'f to +um ve'y honably when they pass me by yehafteh. Yo' don't gaiss they +made a errah, Mahstah Majah?"</p> +<p>He searched my face with a sudden hope:—</p> +<p>"Yo' don't reckon they git a idy them funichas an' home-fixin's +ain't been paid foh in th' fust place?"</p> +<p>I took the packet from his hands and glanced over it.</p> +<p>"No, these seem to be all right, Clem—only freight is +charged for. But you must remember Virginia is a long way off."</p> +<p>"Yes, seh—it ain't neveh raghtly come upon me befoh."</p> +<p>"And freights are high, of course?"</p> +<p>"Yes, seh, th' freight p'fession does look lahk it ort a' be +maghty gainful. Ah gaiss them engineahs go'n' a' do raght well in +it, with evabody movin' 'round considable."</p> +<p>"Well, how many more loads do you expect?"</p> +<p>"Well, seh, Ah don't raghtly know. Ah tell that drivah yestaday +Ah already got a gret abundance to mek evabody comf'table, an' a +little bit oveh, but he jes' sais, 'Oh, tha's all raght,' an' so +fothe, an' he still is <i>a-bringin</i>' it. Lohks ve'y strongly +lahk he ain't go'n' a' stop at <i>mah</i> implications. Mahstah +Majah, maght happen lahk he'd ack mo' reasonin' ef yo' was t' have +a good long talk with him."</p> +<p>"Oh, he hasn't anything to do with it. He only brings what your +Miss Caroline has shipped. She shouldn't have sent so much, that's +all."</p> +<p>He took the troubling bills again.</p> +<p>"Yo' <i>sounds</i> raght, Mahstah Majah—you suttinly do +sound <i>raght</i>! Ah gaiss Ah got a' raise ten hund'ed thousan' +pulletts an mo'."</p> +<p>For three more days the juggernaut of Sam Murdock's dray hauled +heavy furniture over the prostrate spirit of Clem. Faster than he +could unpack the stuff was it unpiled at his door. And it was poor +stuff, moreover, in the opinion of Little Arcady. Clem's history +was known, of course, and during these busy days the town made it a +point to pass his door in friendly curiosity about the belongings +of his mistress. When these could not be satisfactorily appraised +from the yard, they sauntered up to the porch and surveyed Clem in +the front room at his work of unpacking and cleaning. Often, +indeed, some kindly disposed observer with time to spare would lend +a hand in freeing some heavy bit of mahogany from its crate or +wrappings.</p> +<p>The public opinion, thus advantageously formed, was for once +unanimous. The house overflowed with worthless and unbeautiful +junk. To Little Arcady this was a grievous disappointment. It had +expected elegance, for Clem had been wont to enlarge upon the +splendors of his former home. When it was finally known that the +long-vaunted furnishings were coming, the town had prepared to be +dazzled by sets of black walnut, ornate with gilt lines, by patent +rockers done in plush, by fashionable sofas, gay with upholstery of +flowered ingrain, by bedroom sets of ash, stencilled adroitly with +pink-and-blue flowers, or set with veneered panels of burl; by +writing-desks of maple and music-stands of cherry with many +spindles and frettings, by sideboards of finest new oak with brass +handles and mirrors in the backs.</p> +<p>The town had anticipated, in short, up to its own high and +difficult standards. And along had come a ruck of stuff that was +dark and dingy and old-fashioned; awkward articles with a vast dull +expanse of mahogany, ending in clumsy claw feet; spindle-legged +tables inlaid with white wood; old-fashioned mirrors in scarred +gilt frames; awkward-looking highboys and the plainest of sofas and +lounges. The chief sideboard boasted not the tiniest bit of brass; +even the handles were of cheap glass, and Clem had set +candle-sticks upon it that were nothing but pewter.</p> +<p>Where Little Arcady had looked for the best Brussels carpets, +there came only dull-colored rugs of a most aged and depressing +lack of gayety. As for silver, we knew the worst when Aunt Delia +McCormick declared, "They haven't even a swinging +ice-pitcher—nothing but thin battered old stuff that was made +in the year one!"</p> +<p>Aunt Delia had quite the newest and most fashionable furniture +in town; her parlor was a feast of color for any eye, and her fine +hardwood sideboard alone had cost twenty-two dollars, so she spoke +as one having authority.</p> +<p>By the time that Clem's ancient treasures were all unpacked, +Little Arcady felt a genuine if patronizing sympathy for his +mistress. If <i>that</i> were the boasted elegance of the +ante-bellum South, then Tradition had reported falsely. No plush +rockers of the newest patent; no chenille curtains; no art chromos; +no hat-racks, not even an imitation bronze mantle clock guarded by +its mailed warrior. Such clocks as there were left only honest +distress in the mind of the beholder,—tall, outlandish old +things in wooden cases.</p> +<p>It was believed that Clem had wasted money in paying freight on +this stuff. Certainly no one in Little Arcady would have paid those +bills to possess the furniture. As to the folly of those who had +originally purchased it, the town was likewise a unit.</p> +<p>If Clem was made aware of this public sentiment, he still did +not waver in his loyalty to the old pieces. Day after day he +unpacked and dusted and polished them with loving devotion. They +spoke to him of other days, and when he was quite sure that the +last freight bill had been paid, he seemed really to enjoy them. +The unexpected drain had reduced his savings to a pittance, but +were not the pullets which he could raise absolutely without +number?</p> +<p>It was true that Miss Caroline would have to come alone now, +leaving Little Miss still to teach in the school at Baltimore until +a day of renewed surplus. This much Clem confided to me in sorrow. +I sympathized with him, truly, but I felt it was a fortunate +circumstance. I thought that one of the ladies at a time would be +as much as Little Arcady could assimilate.</p> +<p>Slowly the house grew into a home awaiting its mistress, a home +whose furnished rooms overflowed into others not furnished but +merely crowded.</p> +<p>I foresaw, not without a certain wicked cheerfulness, that, even +after the coming of Miss Caroline, Clem would be forced to pander +to my breakfast appetites for the slight betterment it made in his +fortunes, even must this be done surreptitiously. And at least one +dinner was secured to me beyond the coming of this mistress; for +Clem had conveyed to me, with appropriate ceremony, an invitation, +which I promptly accepted, to dine with Mrs. Caroline Lansdale at +six-thirty on the evening of her arrival, she having gleaned from +his letters, it appeared, that I had been a rather friendly adviser +of her servant.</p> +<p>In the days that followed I saw that Clem was regarding me with +an embarrassed, troubled look. Something of weight lay upon his +mind. Nor was it easy, to make him speak, but I achieved this at +last.</p> +<p>"Well, seh, Mahstah Majah, yo'-all see, Ah ain't eveh told Miss +Cahline that yo's a Majah in th' Nawthun ahmy."</p> +<p>"No?" I said.</p> +<p>"No, seh; Ah ain't even said yo's been a common soljah."</p> +<p>"Well?"</p> +<p>"'Cause Miss Cahline's tehible heahtfelt 'bout some mattehs. Th' +Lansdales sho'ly kin ca'y a grudge powful long. An' +so—seh—Ah ain't neveh tole on yo'."</p> +<p>"But she'll find it out."</p> +<p>"Yes, seh, an' she maght fuhgit it, but—Ah crave yo' +pahdon, seh—theh's yo' ahm what's gone."</p> +<p>"It's too late to help that, Clem."</p> +<p>"Well, seh—now Ah was steddyin'—if yo' kin'ly grant +yo' grace of pahdon, seh—lahkly 'twould compliment Miss +Cahline ef yo' was to git yo'se'f fitted to one a' them unnatchel +limbs, seh. Yo' sho'ly go'n' a' pesteh huh rec'lections with that +theh saggin' sleeve, Mahstah Majah."</p> +<p>But this kindly meant proposal I felt compelled to reject.</p> +<p>"No, Clem, you'll have to fix it up with Miss Caroline the best +you can."</p> +<p>"Ve'y well, seh, thank yo', seh—Ah do mah ve'y best fo' +yo'."</p> +<p>But I saw that he had little hope of ever winning for me the +favor of his captious owner.</p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CH14">CHAPTER XIV</a></h2> +<center>THE COMING OF MISS CAROLINE</center> +<p>She came to us auspiciously on a day in the first week of +June.</p> +<p>Mistress Caroline Lansdale, a one-time belle of the Old +Dominion, relict of the late Colonel Jere Lansdale, C.S.A., +legislator and duellist, whose devotion to her in the days of their +courtship had been the talk of two states. Not less notable than +his eloquence in the forum, his skill in the duello, had been the +determined fervor with which he knelt at her feet. And I waited no +more than a hundred seconds in her presence to applaud his +discernment.</p> +<p>I had pictured an old woman—some aged trifle of an elder +day, sad, withered, devitalized, intemperately +reminiscent—steeped in traditions that would leave her +formidable, and impracticable as a friend to me. I had fancied her +thus, from Clem's fragmentary and chance descriptions and my own +knowledge of what she should be by all laws of the probable; and +she was not as I had evolved her.</p> +<p>The day she came was one of Little Arcady's best; quite all that +her anxious servitor could have wished,—a day of summer's +first abundance, when our green-bordered streets basked in a +tempered sunlight, and our trim white cottages nestled coolly back +of their flower gardens. Harried alien as she was, she would be +welcomed with smiles, and I was glad for her sake and Clem's when I +hurried home to dress for that first dinner with her.</p> +<p>On my way across the lawn at six-thirty I picked a bunch of the +newly opened yellow roses as a peace offering, should one be +needed. Clem, in his most formal dress, received me ceremoniously +at the door, his look betraying only the faintest, formalest +acknowledgment of having ever encountered mine before. With a +superb bow toward the drawing-room and in tones stiffly +magnificent, he announced, "Mistah Calvin Blake." It was +excellently done, but I knew he had rehearsed the "Mistah."</p> +<p>Then a woman rose from one of the deep old chairs to offer me +her hand, and a soft quick laugh came as she perceived my +difficulty, for my one hand held the roses. These she gathered +gracefully into her left hand, while her right fell into mine with +a swift little pressure as she bade me welcome.</p> +<p>"Clem has told me of you, Mr. Blake. I feel that you are one of +us. Let me thank you at once for the consideration you have shown +him."</p> +<p>In the half light I hesitated awkwardly enough to speak her +name, for I felt that this could not be the mother of Little Miss. +Rather was it the daughter herself. I stammered words that must +have revealed my uncertainty, for again she laughed, and then she +ordered lights.</p> +<p>Clem came soft-footedly with a branching candelabra, which he +placed on the round-topped old table by which she had been sitting. +She moved a step to where the soft lights glowed up into her face, +and with mock seriousness stood to be surveyed fairly.</p> +<p>"There, Mr. Blake! You see I confess all my years."</p> +<p>And I saw the truth, that she loitered gracefully among the +vague and pleasant fifties. But then she did a thing which would +have been injudicious in most women of her years. Her hand, still +holding my roses, went up to her face, and her cheek glowed dusky +and pink against the yellow petals. I saw that she rightly +appraised her own daring and felt free to say:—</p> +<p>"You <i>see</i>! My confusion was inevitable. Not one of those +candles can be spared if I am to believe you are Miss +Caroline."</p> +<p>Again she laughed, revealing now a girlish freshness in the +small mouth, that had somehow lingered to belie the deeper, graver +lines about her dark eyes. As she still regarded me with that +smiling, waiting lift of the short upper lip, I called +out:—</p> +<p>"More lights, Clem! I need all you have."</p> +<p>Whereat Miss Caroline fell into her chair with a marvellous +blush, an undeniable darkening of the pink on cheeks that were in +texture like the finest, sheerest lawn.</p> +<p>Never thereafter could I refuse credence to tales, of which many +came to me, exposing Miss Caroline as an able and relentless +coquette. Nor could I fail to understand how the late Colonel Jere +Lansdale would have found need to be a duellist after he became her +lover, even had he aforetime been unskilled in that difficult +art.</p> +<p>As she chatted, chiefly of her journey, I falsely pretended to +listen, whereas I only stared and in spirit was prostrate before +her. Mere kneeling at her feet savored too nearly of arrogance. I +felt the need to be a spread rug in her presence. She sat back in +the chair that embraced her loosely, a slight figure with a small +head, on which the heavy strands of whitening hair seemed only a +powdered lie above the curiously girlish face. A tiny black patch +or two on the face, I thought, would have made this illusion +perfect. And yet when she did not laugh, or in some little silence +of recollection, the deeper lines stood out, and I could see that +sorrow had long known its way to her face. It even lurked now back +of her eyes, and I knew that she tried to keep her face lighted for +me so that I should not detect it. She succeeded admirably, but the +smile could not always be there, and ghosts of her dead years came +stealthily to haunt her face as surely as the smile went.</p> +<p>When Clem, with an air of having had word from a numerous +kitchen crew, stood before us and bowed out, "Miss Cahline, dinneh +is suhved!" I gave her my arm with a feeling of vast relief. Not +only was Miss Caroline an abiding joy, but apprehension as to my +modest complicity in her late distress had, too, evidently been +groundless. She had once, with what seemed to be an almost +artificial politeness, asked me about our timber supply and the +state of the lumber market; queries to which I had replied with an +assumption of interest equally artificial, for I was ignorant of +both topics, and not even remotely concerned about either.</p> +<p>Seated at the table, which Clem had arrayed with a faultless +artistry, I promptly demanded the removal of a tall piece of cut +glass and its burden of carnations, asserting that both glass and +flowers might be well enough in their way, but that I could regard +them only as a blank wall of exasperating ugliness while they +interrupted a view of my hostess. Whereat I was again regaled with +that imcomparable blush.</p> +<p>Clem served a soup that had been two days in the making and was +worth the time. But even ere the stain had faded from the cheeks of +my hostess, cheeks of slightly crumpled roseleaf, another look +flashed the smile from her eyes—a quick, firm, woman look of +suffering and defiance.</p> +<p>She had raised her glass, and I mechanically did the same.</p> +<p>"Mr. Blake, let us drink standing!—we women earned the +right to stand with you."</p> +<p>A little puzzled, I stood up to face her, as Clem pulled back +her chair. One hand on the table, the other reaching her slender +stemmed glass aloft, she leaned toward me with a look of singular +vehemence.</p> +<p>"To our murdered brothers and husbands and sons, Mr. Blake! To +our lost leaders and our deathless lost cause! To Jefferson Davis +and Robert Edmund Lee! To the Confederate States of America!"</p> +<p>A black wind seemed to blow across the face of her servitor's +fluttering eyelids. But I drank loyally to Mrs. Caroline Lansdale +and whatsoever that woman would. I could see that Clem exhaled a +deep breath. How long he had held it I know not.</p> +<p>We resumed our seats, and the dinner went forward with my +hostess again herself. It was a dinner not heavy but choice, a +repast upon which Clem had magically worked all his spells. There +was a bass that had nosed the river's current that morning, two +pullets cut off in the very dawn of adolescence, and a mysteriously +perfect pastry whose secret I had never been able to wring from him +beyond the uninforming and obvious enough data that it contained +"some sugah an' a little spicin's."</p> +<p>Having for my luncheon that day suffered an up-to-date dinner at +Budds's, I felt a genuine craving for food; yet the spell of my +hostess was such that I left her table ahungered.</p> +<p>Again there was an inexplicable reference from her to the timber +and sawed-lumber interests of the Little Country, and the +circumstance that another black wind seemed to shiver the eyelids +of Clem lent no light to the mystery of it. But then, as if some +recondite duty to me had been safely performed, she talked to me of +herself, of days when the youth of the Old Dominion had been +covetous of her smiles, of nightly triumphs in ball and rout, of +gay seasons at the nation's capital, amid the fashion and beauty +and wit of Pierce's administration and of Buchanan's, of rounds of +calls made in her calash, of bewitching gowns she had worn, of +theatres and musicales and teas and embassy receptions, in a day +when Harriet Lane was mistress of the White House.</p> +<p>For my pleasing she laughed her sprightly way through memories +of that romantic past, when she danced and chattered in the fulness +of her bellehood, bringing out a multitude of treasured mementoes, +compliments she had compelled, witticisms she had prompted, pranks +she had played, delectable repasts she had eaten at Lady Napier's +or another's, the splendor of pageants she had witnessed. And +though she was back in an elder day, she glowed young as she +talked, whether recalling official solemnities or a once-cherished +gown of embroidered tulle, caught up with bunches of grapes. The +girl's mouth was her's—fresh and full, unlined by care.</p> +<p>It was not until she talked of later, younger days that her face +took on an old look.</p> +<p>"When our federated states rose up in their might," was a phrase +that brought the change. Thereafter she spoke in subdued tones of a +time more eventful than romantic, but still absorbing.</p> +<p>She remembered the words in which she felicitated General Pope +Walker for having issued the order to fire on Sumter. She gave +details of the privation that Richmond on her seven hills had +suffered in the latter days, and she made plain why their women +should rise with their men to drink certain toasts; how they, too, +had sacrificed and toiled and suffered with the same loyal +tenacity. She mentioned "the present government" casually, as the +affair of a day; and spoke of "Mr. Lincoln, their Northern +President," in a tone implying confidence that I shared her feeling +for him.</p> +<p>As we went back to the drawing-room for coffee, she summed up +herself to me, though she thought to sum up more than herself.</p> +<p>"They swept us with the besom of war, Mr. Blake, and they +overwhelmed—but they could not subjugate us."</p> +<p>As she spoke, my eyes caught for the first time a portrait that +hung on the wall back of her. It was the portrait of one dark but +fair, with shoulders of a girlish slenderness all but thin, with +eyes of glowing dusk and a half-smile upon her lips. It was like my +hostess in a fashion of line and color, and yet enough unlike her +so that I knew it must be the daughter. The face was a shade +narrower of chin, a bit longer, and in some obscure differing of +the features there was an effect of more poise, almost of a maturer +dignity, so that while I divined it was the face of her daughter, +it would seem to have been better planned for the face of her +mother.</p> +<p>She followed my eyes to the picture, and her face was still +almost stern from her last speech, though it is true that the +sternness was a dimpled sternness, for the chin of my hostess was +rounded.</p> +<p>"They overwhelmed us, Mr. Blake,—my daughter there, and +me, and God alone has counted how many other wretched women. Her +they struck a double blow—they killed the two men she loved. +One was her father, but she flew to the other. She found her +picture in his dead hands. Our young men were apt to die in that +fashion; and when she put it back to be buried with him, her eyes +were dry. Even under her double blow, she was stronger than I. She +has been stronger ever since, but she suffered more than I was made +to. Oh, it was a fine thing for them to do!"</p> +<p>Her voice rose at the last into a little trembling gust of +passion, and I saw again the spirit that gave those women the right +to stand with the men. She recovered herself quickly, and the girl +in her smiled upon me again.</p> +<p>"You must overlook my forgetfulness. I shall not forget often, +especially now that I am among these murderous fanatics. But I was +tired to-night, and I was so glad when I knew I could talk to you +freely."</p> +<p>Her eyes were upon me in friendly unreserve, in confident +appeal.</p> +<p>In the face of what I should have felt, I was ashamed at that +moment, and in the nervousness of hidden guilt I handled the minute +coffee cup awkwardly. Clem, who must have been equally nervous, +stepped to right the thing in its saucer, with "Yes, seh, Mahstah +Majah!"</p> +<p>From across the table I knew, without raising my eyes, that his +mistress glanced up at Clem in quick astonishment, then that her +eyes were fastened upon my face. I still regarded the coffee +interestedly, but I knew that I myself blushed now and I suspected +that my hostess was pale.</p> +<p>"Major?" she began questioningly, then more decidedly, +"<i>Major</i> Blake?"</p> +<p>I raised my eyes to hers and nodded idiotically.</p> +<p>She laughed a little laugh that was icy in its politeness.</p> +<p>"How stupid of me, and now I must ask your pardon for all my +tirade, for my blasphemies, and for that monstrous toast +I—really—"</p> +<p>She shot a look at Clem, under which he blanched visibly, then +her eyes were again upon me and she smiled with a rare art.</p> +<p>"Really, you will overlook an old woman's weakness."</p> +<p>It was the inimical, remote, icy superiority of her tone that +nettled me—perhaps her implied assumption that I would not +know it for such. But also I felt curiously stricken by that swift +withdrawal of her confidence, for Mrs. Caroline Lansdale had won me +by her laugh and blush of ancient girlishness. Further, I would not +now be hurt by any woman, though she were ten times my years, +without a show of defence.</p> +<p>I arose as Clem hastily fled from the room.</p> +<p>"Miss Caroline—" I waited for the fine little brows to go +up at that. I had not long to wait.</p> +<p>"I shall positively never call you anything else but Miss +Caroline while you permit me to address you at all—understand +it—I've associated with your boy too long. Well, I did do +four years of fighting, and I was mustered out with the rank of +Major. You might as well know it now as later. You'll have longer +to forget it. I wish I could forget it myself. Not the fact, for I +should fight again as long and try to fight harder in the same +cause, but the hellishness of it—the damnable, inhuman +obscenity of it—I should like to forget. I never said so +before, Miss Caroline,—there was no one to say it +to,—but it made me old before my time. Why, I could almost be +a son of yours, if you will pardon that minor brutality, and the +thing is aging me to this day. I helped to kill your young men and +your old men, but you ought to know that I didn't do it for holiday +sport. The first one of your men I saw dead lay alone by the +roadside, a boy, foolishly young, with a tired face that was still +smiling. He'd fallen there as if sleep had overtaken him on the +march. Our column had halted, and I went to him. It must have taken +a full minute for me to realize that this was dignified war and not +the murder of a boy in a homely gray uniform. When I did realize +it, I was so weakened that I broke down and cried. I was a private +then. I covered his face, and got up strong enough to assault two +other privates who had found my snivelling funny. One of them went +to the field hospital, and I went under arrest when I'd finished +with the other. You ought to know, Miss Caroline, that the sight of +thousands of your other dead never moved me to any merriment. I +tried to be a good soldier, but I felt the death pains of every +fallen man I saw. I didn't stop to note the color of his uniform. +Miss Caroline—"</p> +<p>I waited until I had made her look at me.</p> +<p>"The war is over, you know. Suppose you forget me as a soldier +and take me as a man. Really, I believe we ought to know each other +better."</p> +<p>Clem had once found occasion to say, "When Miss Cahline tek th' +notion to shine huh eyes up, she sho' is a highly illuminous +puhsonality."</p> +<p>I saw then what he meant, for Miss Caroline had "shined" her +eyes, and they flooded me with a distracting medley of lights. I +thought she struggled very uncertainly with herself. Her eyes +shifted from my face to the empty sleeve. Twice before that +evening—I remembered it had been when she spoke so +enigmatically of the lumber industry—her eyes had rested +there briefly, discreetly, but in all sympathy. Now the look was +different. It wavered. At one instant I seemed to read regret that +I had come off so well—her eyes flickered suggestively to my +remaining arm.</p> +<p>"Be fair," I said; "did I not drink your toast?"</p> +<p>I thought she wavered at this, for a blush deeper than all the +others suffused her.</p> +<p>"Besides," I continued warningly, "you are within the enemy's +lines now, and you may find me a help. Come!" and I held out my +hand.</p> +<p>Very slowly she put her own within it. I noticed that it was +still plump, the fine skin not yet withered.</p> +<p>"You are very kind, Major Blake. I had been misinformed, or you +should have had no occasion to think me rude."</p> +<p>It was then that I wished definitely to shake Miss Caroline.</p> +<p>"Come, come," I said, "you are not giving me what you gave at +first. I'm not to be put off that way, you know. If I call you Miss +Caroline,—and I've sworn to call you nothing else,—you +must be Miss Caroline."</p> +<p>She searched my face eagerly,—then—</p> +<p>"You <i>shall</i> call me Miss Caroline—but remember, sir, +it makes you my servant." She smiled again, without the icy reserve +this time, whereat I was glad—but back of the smile I could +see that she felt a bitter homesickness of the new place.</p> +<p>"Your most obedient servant," I said. "You have another slave, +Miss Caroline, another that refuses manumission—another bit +of personal property, clumsy but willing."</p> +<p>"Thank you, Major, I need your kindness more than I might seem +to need it. Good night!" and even then she gave me a rose, with the +same coquetry, I doubt not, that had once made Colonel Jere +Lansdale quick to think of his pistols when another evoked it. Only +now it masked her weariness, her sense of desperate desolation. I +took the rose and kissed her hand. I left her wilting in the big +chair, staring hard into the fireplace that Clem had rilled with +summer green things.</p> +<p>When my fellow-chattel appeared next morning with my coffee, he +was embarrassed. With guile he strove to be talkative about matters +of no consequence. But this availed him not.</p> +<p>"Clem," I said frigidly, "tell me just what you said to Mrs. +Lansdale about me."</p> +<p>He paltered, shifting on his feet, his brow contracted in +perplexity, as if I had propounded some intricate trifle of the +higher mathematics.</p> +<p>"Huh! Wha—what's that yo'-all is a-sayin', Mahstah +Majah?"</p> +<p>"Stop that, now! I needn't tell you twice what I said. Out with +it!"</p> +<p>"Well, seh, Mahstah Majah, of co'se, yo'-all tole me to fix it +man own way, an' Ah lay Ah'd do it raghtly—an' so Miss +Cahline is ve'y busy goin' th'oo th' rooms an' spressin' huhse'f +how grand evehthing suttinly do look an' so fothe an' so on, an' +sh' ain't payin' much attention—Ah reckon sh' ain't huhd +raghtly—"</p> +<p>"Clem—the Bible says, 'How forceful are right words!'"</p> +<p>He stopped at my look, despaired, and became succinct.</p> +<p>"Well, seh, Ah jes' think Ah brek it to huh easy-lahk, by +degrees, so Ah sais yo' is a genaman of wahm South'n lahkings. Ah +sais yo' been so hot fo' th' South all th'oo that theh wah that +evehbody yeh'bouts despised an' reviled you. An' she sais why ain't +yo' gone faght fo' th' South ef yo'-all so hot about it, an' Ah +sais yo' was eageh to go, but yo' been in the timbeh business, an' +one day yo' got rash about yo' saw-mill, an' th' ole buzz-saw jes' +natchelly tuk off yo' ahm, so's yo' couldn't go to th' wah. Yes, +seh, Mahstah Majah—Ah laid Ah'd brek it grajally—an' Ah +suttingly did have that lady a-thinkin' ve'y highly of yo' at th' +time of yo' entrance, seh,—yes, seh!"</p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CH15">CHAPTER XV</a></h2> +<center>LITTLE ARCADY VIEWS A PARADE</center> +<p>And so began the time of Miss Caroline among us,—one +effect the more of Fate's mad trickery. It was my privilege to be +more intimately aware of her concerns than was the town at large. +And even to me in those days she carried off the difficulties of +her lot with a manner so plausible that it clenched my admiration +if it did not win my belief. I knew that she daily bore a burden of +ruin and faced a future of perilous uncertainty. I knew that she +must have journeyed into our strange land with a real terror, +nerved to that course only by a resolve to be no longer a burden +upon her impoverished kinsman. Surely it had been like dying a +death for her to leave the land of her own people, devastated +though it was and vacant of those who had made the world easy for +her.</p> +<p>And I was not a little puzzled by the tie that bound her to her +one remaining stay. Both she and Clem, I saw, considered her coming +to him to be a thing so natural that it should excite no wonder, a +thing familiar in the thought and as little to be puzzled about as +their own breathing. I saw that her perplexities lay not at all in +this black fellow's unthinking adherence to his life of service, +but rather in the circumstance of her spirit-grieving exile and in +the necessary doubts of her chattel's competence for the feat he +had undertaken.</p> +<p>I despaired very soon of ever comprehending the intricate +strands of their relationship. When I understood, as I was not long +in doing, that each was in certain ways genuinely afraid of the +other, I knew that the problem must always be far beyond my own +little powers.</p> +<p>As to Little Arcady at large, some aspects of this complication +were simpler than they appeared to me; others were more obscure. Of +the tragedy of Miss Caroline's mere coming to us they could suspect +nothing, save it might be the humiliation her old-fashioned +furniture must put upon her in a prosperous town where so much of +the furniture was elegant to the point of extravagance.</p> +<p>In the much-discussed matter of mistress and slave, the town +agreed simply that Clem was stupid and had been deluded by Miss +Caroline into believing that a certain proclamation had stopped +short of her personal property. It was believed that she had +terrorized him by threatening to put bloodhounds on his trail if he +ever tried to run off—for the town knew its "Uncle Tom's +Cabin" as well as it knew "Gaskell's Compendium." It was thought +that if Clem proved to be disobedient or rebellious, his mistress +would try to hire "Big Joe" Kestril or some equally strong person +to whip him with a "black-snake." Also it was said that she had +sold his wife away from him, and might try to sell Clem himself if +ever she got "hard up," though it was felt that she would be wise +not to go too far in that matter.</p> +<p>For the rest, Little Arcady rather rejoiced in the novelty of +Miss Caroline's establishment. There was a flavor of much-needed +romance in this survival at our very doors of an ante-bellum +unrighteousness. The town cherished a hope that Clem would try to +run off some time, or that Miss Caroline would have his back cut to +ribbons, or try to sell or mortgage him or something, thus creating +entertainment of an agreeable and exciting character.</p> +<p>If the town could have overheard Clem scolding the lady with +frank irritation in his voice,—as I chanced to do once or +twice,—had it beheld his scowl as he raged, "Miss Cahline, +yo' sho'ly gittin' old 'nuff to know betteh'n <i>that</i>. I +suttinly do wish yo' Paw was alive an' yeh'bouts. Ah git him afteh +yo' maghty quick. Now yo' jes' remembeh Ah ain't go'n' a' +<i>have</i> no sech doin's!"—if it could have noted the +quailing consternation of the mistress at these moments, it might +have been puzzled; but of such phenomena it never knew. It was +aware only that Miss Caroline treated Clem with a despotic +severity, issuing commands to him as from a throne of power and in +tones of acrid authority that were the envy of all housekeepers +among us who kept "hired girls."</p> +<p>Even Mrs. Potts, long before the arrival of Miss Caroline, had +despaired of teaching Clem to make something of himself. He had +refused to subscribe for a "Compendium," and her cordial assurance +that he was, by the law of the land, both a man and a brother, did +not even mildly elate him. Mrs. Potts was soon in a like despair +regarding Miss Caroline, whom she regarded as too frivolous ever to +make anything of herself. These two ladies, indeed, were widely +apart. Perhaps I can intimate the extent of their unlikeness by +revealing that Mrs. Potts, early in our acquaintance, had observed +of me that I was not serious enough; whereas Miss Caroline was +presently averring to my face that I was entirely too serious. +These judgments of myself seemed to contrast the ladies +informingly.</p> +<p>The impression that Miss Caroline was frivolous—or even +worse—became current the day after her arrival in Little +Arcady. Arrayed in a lavender silk dress of many flounces, with +bonnet beribboned gayly beyond her years, shod in low walking shoes +of heel iniquitously high, a toe minute and shining and an instep +ornate to an unholy degree, bearing a slender gold-tipped staff of +polished ebony to assist theatrically in her progress, and +bestowing placid, patronizing looks to right and left, she had +flounced into Main Street, followed ceremoniously by her black +chattel, himself set up with a palpable and shameless pride in his +degradation, saluting stiffly and with an artificial grandeur those +whom he would otherwise have greeted with the unstudied ease of +long association.</p> +<p>This procession regaled both Main and Washington streets, where +Miss Caroline visited our shops to make inconsiderable purchases +and many friends. It was a function the pleasant data whereof I was +not long in collecting.</p> +<p>Her first conquest was Chester Pierce, our excellent hardware +merchant, whom she commissioned to make a needed repair to her +range. It was a simple business matter, and Chester Pierce is a +simple business person of plain manners. But as he slouched +comfortably upon his counter and listened to Miss Caroline's +condescending exposition of her needs, he became sensible of a +strange influence stealing upon him. By degrees he brought himself +erect and slowly, dazedly performed an act which had never before +been perpetrated within his establishment. It was not that he +deliberated, nor that his reason dictated it; but instinctively, +almost from a purely reflex muscular action, he removed his hat +while Miss Caroline talked, feeling himself thrill with a foreign +and most suave deference. It was customary in our town to raise +your hat to a lady on the street; but for a merchant, and a solid +citizen at that, to do this thing in his own establishment, was a +thing unheard of—and a thing of pretentious and sickening +foppery when it <i>was</i> heard of, for that matter, though this +need not now concern us.</p> +<p>"And be sure to tell my servant to give you a glass of wine when +your work is done," concluded Miss Caroline, as she turned to +rustle silkily out. Whereat Chester Pierce, charter member and +President of our Sons of Temperance, a man primed with all +statistics of the woe resulting traditionally from that first +careless glass, murmured words unintelligible but of gratified +import, and bowed low after the retreating vision. A moment later +he was staring with mystified absorption at the hat in his hands, +quite as if the hat were a stranger's—and then he brushed it +around and around with the cuff of his coat sleeve as if the +stranger had not been careful enough of it.</p> +<p>Thence paraded Miss Caroline to the City Drug Store, to be bowed +well out to the sidewalk by young Arthur Updyke when her errand +within had been done. But Arthur had attended a college of pharmacy +far away from Slocum County, and it was not unnatural that he +should exhibit an alien grace in times of emergency.</p> +<p>With Westley Keyts again, to whose shop Miss Caroline next +progressed, it was as with Chester Pierce, a phenomenon of +instinctive muscular reaction,—that of his hat coming off as +he greeted the stately little lady at his threshold and apologized +for the sawdust on his floor which was compelling her to raise a +froth of skirts above the tops of those sinful-looking shoes. I +suspect that Miss Caroline was rather taken with Westley. She +called him "my good man," which made him feel that he had been +distinguished uncommonly, and she chatted with him at some length, +asking cordially about cuts of meat and his family, two matters in +which Westley was much absorbed. He declared later that she was "a +grand little woman."</p> +<p>There followed pilgrimages that June morning to the First +National Bank and to several of our lesser establishments; +pilgrimages rarely diverting to Little Arcady and which invariably +provoked bows under strangely lifted hats.</p> +<p>But there were Little Arcadians of Miss Caroline's own sex to +whom she might not so swiftly fetch confusion. Aunt Delia McCormick +devoted a chance view of the newcomer to discovering that the gown +of lavender satin had been turned and made over, none too expertly, +from one originally built some years before the war. Later she +found what our ladies agreed was its primal design, after much +turning of the leaves of ancient Godey's magazines.</p> +<p>Mrs. Judge Robinson, from one sidelong glance, brought off +detailed intelligence of the bonnet's checkered past.</p> +<p>The elder Miss Eubanks decried the mannishness of cane-bearing; +and Mrs. Westley Keyts, entering the shop as Miss Caroline was +bowed out, declared that her silk stockings were of a hue hardly +respectable, and that she wore shoes "twice too small for her."</p> +<p>The eyes of the suddenly urbane Westley glistened when he +overheard this, but he fell to dissecting a beef without further +sign.</p> +<p>For better or worse, Miss Caroline and Little Arcady had +exchanged impressions of each other.</p> +<p>I met her by chance that morning and was charmed by her +flattering implication of reliance upon myself. She made me feel +that our understanding was secret and our attachment romantic. To +complete her round of our commercial centre I escorted her to the +<i>Argus</i> office. Her greeting of Solon Denney was a thing to +behold with unalloyed delight. They seemed to understand each other +at once. Two minutes after Solon had looked up in some astonishment +from his dusty, over-piled desk, they were arrayed as North and +South in a combat of blithest raillery.</p> +<p>Miss Caroline sat in Solon's battered chair with the missing +castor, surveyed his exchange-laden desk with a humorous eye, and +seized the last <i>Argus</i>, skimming its local columns with a +lively interest and professing to be enthralled by its word-magic. +She read stray items that commended themselves to her critical +judgment, such as, "A wind blew last week that you could lean up +against like the side of the house;" or "Westley Keyts has a +bran-new 'No Admittance!' sign over the door of his +slaughter-house. We don't see why. He could put up a 'Come one, +come all!' sign and still not get <i>us</i> into the place. They're +messy."</p> +<p>Further she read, "Some fiend with sub-human instincts ravaged +our secret hoard of eating-apples while we were out meeting the +farmers last Saturday afternoon. We wish they had been of no value +to any one except the owner." And then, in her sprightliest manner, +and with every sign of enjoyment, she went on to an item during the +reading of which I think we both flushed a little, Solon and +I:—</p> +<center>"The United States <i>Is</i></center> +<p>"Some grammar sharp down East says you must say 'The United +States are.' But we guess not. Opinions to that effect prevailed +widely to the south of us some years ago, but the contrary was +proved, we believe. The United States <i>is</i>, brother, ever +since Appomattox, and even the grammar book should testify to its +is-ness—to its everlasting and indivisible oneness."</p> +<p>She carried it off so finely that I knew Miss Caroline had +recovered from the fatigues of her journey.</p> +<p>"I shall write you an item myself," she exclaimed, and seizing a +stubby pencil, she wrote rapidly:—</p> +<p>"A battered and ungrammatical old woman from the valley of +Virginia has settled in our midst. She will always believe that the +United States are, but she is harmless and otherwise sane."</p> +<p>"Have I caught the style?—have I used 'in our midst' +correctly?" she asked Solon. And he protested that her style was +faultless but that her matter was grossly misleading.</p> +<p>From this she was presently assuring him, in all pleasantness, +that the seed of Cain, descended through Ham, would, by reason of +the curse of God, be a "servant of servants" unto the end; while +Solon was assuring her, with equal good nature, that this +scriptural law had been repealed by President Lincoln.</p> +<p>Her retort, "I dare say your Mr. Lincoln was <i>capable</i> of +wishing to repeal the Bible," was her nearest approach to +asperity.</p> +<p>"A battered old woman!" said Solon to me later. "She looks more +like a candy saint, if they make such things,—one that a +child has been careless with." We agreed that she was an addition +to Little Arcady.</p> +<p>The editor of the <i>Argus</i> sighed at this point, and I +thought he might be wishing that all feminine newcomers could be +like the latest. For Mrs. Aurelia Potts, whose leisure Heaven had +increased, was now redoubling her efforts to make the <i>Argus</i> +a well of English undefiled—undefiled by what she called +"journalisms." Solon must not, he confided to me, say "enthuse" nor +"we opine" nor "disremember." He might not say that the pastor "was +given" a donation party when he really meant that the party was +given,—not that the pastor was given. Further, he must be +cautious in the uses of "who" and "whom," and try to break himself +of the "a good time was enjoyed by all present" habit.</p> +<p>"And she always says 'diddy-you' instead of 'dij-you,'" broke in +my namesake, who, loitering near us, had overheard the name of Mrs. +Potts.</p> +<p>"That will <i>do</i>, Calvin!" said his father, shortly. It +seemed to me that the still young life of Solon was fast being +blighted.</p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CH16">CHAPTER XVI</a></h2> +<center>THE SPECTRE OF SCANDAL IS RAISED</center> +<p>A graver charge than frivolity was soon to be brought against +the widow of the late Colonel Jere Lansdale. Not with her +antiquated gown, her assisting staff, the gay bonnet, nor yet with +the showy small slippers and silken hose tinted unseasonably to her +years did scandal engage itself; but rather with the circumstance +that she drank.</p> +<p>To "drink" meant in Little Arcady to get drunk, as "Big Joe" +Kestril did every pay-day. Clarence Stull, polishing a stove in the +rear of Pierce's hardware store, was swift to divulge that Mrs. +Lansdale had "asked Chet Pierce to have a glass of wine,—and +him a-bowin' and a-scrapin' like you'd think he was goin' to fly +off the handle!"</p> +<p>It was enough for the town. The unfortunate woman had not yet +reeled through its streets, but Little Arcady would give her time, +and it knew there could be but one result. That sort of thing might +be done in tales of vicious high life to point a moral, but in the +real world it could not compatibly exist with good conduct. Even +Aunt Delia McCormick, good Methodist as she was, who "put up" a +little elderberry wine each year for communion purposes, was +thought by more than one to strain near to the breaking point the +third branch of that concise behest to "Touch not, taste not, +handle not!"</p> +<p>The ladies were at once dismayed about Miss Caroline, from Aunt +Delia herself, to Marcella Eubanks, who kept conspicuous upon her +dressing-table a bedizened motto of the Daughters of +Rebecca,—"The lips that touch wine shall never touch mine." +It is true that this legend appeared to Marcella to be a bit +licentious in its implications as to lips <i>not</i> touched by +wine. It had, indeed, first been hung in the parlor; but one +Creston Fancett, in the course of an evening call upon Miss +Eubanks, had read the thing aloud, twice over, and then observed +with a sinister significance that wine had never touched his own +lips. Whereupon, in a coarsely conceived spirit of humor, he +proceeded to act as if he had forgotten that he was a +gentleman.</p> +<p>Hence the card's seclusion in Marcella's boudoir. Hence, +likewise, Marcella's subsequent preference, in her temperance +propaganda, for straightforward means which no gentleman could +affect to misunderstand. She relied chiefly thereafter upon some +highly colored charts depicting the interior of the human stomach +in varying stages of alcoholic degeneration. According to these, "a +single glass of wine or a measure of ale," taken daily for a year, +suffices to produce some startling effects in color; while the +result of "unrestrained indulgence for five years" is spectacular +in the extreme.</p> +<p>Besides these disconcerting color effects Marcella enacted a +brief but pithy drama in which she touched a lighted match to a +tablespoonful of alcohol, to show the true nature of the stuff and +to symbolize the fate of its votaries.</p> +<p>With charts and with blazing spirit, with tracts and with +figures to prove that we spend "more for the staff of death than +for the staff of life," Marcella was prepared to move upon the +unsuspicious Miss Caroline. Nor was she alone in such readiness for +a good work. The ladies all felt that their profligate sister +should be brought to sign the pledge.</p> +<p>And they called upon Miss Caroline with precisely this end in +view—called singly, and by twos and threes. But for some +reason they seemed always to find obstacles in the way of bringing +forward this most vital topic. If they had only discovered Miss +Caroline in her cups, or if her shaded rooms had been littered with +empty rum bottles and pervaded by the fumes of strong drink, or if +she had audaciously offered them wine, doubtless the thing would +have been easy. But none of these helpful phenomena could be +observed, and Miss Caroline had a way of leading the talk which +would have made any reference to her unfortunate habits seem +ungraceful. It would be far too much to say that she charmed them, +but all of her callers were interested, many of them were +entertained, and a few became her warm defenders. Aunt Delia +McCormick surprised every one by aligning herself with this latter +minority. She declared, after her first call, that Miss Caroline +was "a dear"; and after the second call, that she was "a poor +dear," and she forthwith became of service to the newcomer in a +thousand ways known only to the masonry of housekeeping.</p> +<p>And since none of the ladies, for one reason or another, had +found a way to say those things that Mrs. Lansdale sorely needed to +hear, it was agreed among them that the minister must say them.</p> +<p>"The minister" in Little Arcady meant him of the Methodist +church, the two other clergymen being so young and unimportant as +to need identification by name.</p> +<p>Of the official and inspired visit of this good man to Miss +Caroline, the version that reached the public was one thing: its +secret and true history was another. The latter has never been told +until now. It was known abroad only that the minister had called on +a warm afternoon in July; that Miss Caroline had received him out +of doors, on the shaded east side of the house, where the heat had +driven her to await a cooling breeze from the river. One of the +dingy rugs had been spread upon the grass close to the lilac clump, +and by an unfashionable little table Miss Caroline sat, in a chair +sadly out of date, reading of Childe Harold. It was understood that +the minister had there sat in another antiquated chair of capacious +arms and upholstered in faded green velvet, a chair brought by +Clem; and that he had weakly chatted away a pleasant hour or two +without ever once daring to bring Miss Caroline's evil state to +that attention which it merited from her. His difficulty seemed to +have been similar to that experienced by the calling ladies. He +could observe no opening that promised anything but an ungracious +plunge or an awkward stumble, and the ladies had been wrong in +suspecting that his authority as a cleric would nerve him to either +of these things.</p> +<p>There was despair next day when it was known that he had come +away even lavisher in praise of Miss Caroline than Aunt Delia had +become; that he refused with a gentle but unbreakable stubbornness, +a thing he was known to be cursed with latently, ever again to +approach the lady with a concealed purpose or with aught in his +heart but a warm and flagrant esteem.</p> +<p>So much for the public's knowledge; and doubtless the public in +every case knows all that it ought to know. But these are the facts +as they came to my privileged ears, and to what, I believe, are +gifts of interpretation not below the average.</p> +<p>When Clem brought the chair for the minister, Miss Caroline gave +him a brief, low-toned order, which he hurried away to execute. +Within ten minutes, and before Miss Caroline had finished telling +how altogether beautiful she found Arcady of the Little Country, +Clem returned, bearing breast-high a napkin-covered tray, from +which towered twin pillars of glass, topped with fragrant leafage +and pierced each by a yellow straw. This tray he placed upon the +table beside the poems of Lord Byron, and the minister permitted +himself an oblique look thereat, even though this involved +deserting the eyes of his agreeable hostess. The ice in the glasses +tinkled a brief phrase of music, the tops burgeoned with a +luxuriant summer green, and the straws were of a sweetly pastoral +suggestiveness. The fragrance moved one to the heart of some +spice-scented dell where a brooklet purled down a pebbled course. +The ensemble was indeed overwhelming in its message of a +refreshment joyous, satisfying, timely, and of a consummate +innocence.</p> +<p>"The day is warm," said Miss Caroline, receiving one of the +glasses from her servant, and with a bright look at her guest.</p> +<p>"It is intensely warm, and quite unusually so for this time of +year," said the minister, absently taking the other glass now +proffered him.</p> +<p>"We shall combat it," said Miss Caroline with some vivacity. She +delicately applied her lips to the straw, and a slight depression +appeared in each of her acceptable cheeks.</p> +<p>"A cooling beverage at this hour is most grateful," said the +minister, rejoicing in the icy feel of the glass, and falling +hopefully to his own straw.</p> +<p>"Clem makes them perfectly," said Miss Caroline.</p> +<p>"What do you call them?" asked the minister. He had relinquished +his straw, and his kind face shone with a pleased surprise.</p> +<p>"Why, mint juleps," replied Miss Caroline, glancing quickly +up.</p> +<p>"Ah, mint! that explains it," said the minister with +satisfaction, his broad face clearing of a slight bewilderment.</p> +<p>"Clem found a beautiful patch of it by a spring half a mile up +the river," volunteered Miss Caroline, between dainty pulls at her +straw.</p> +<p>"It is a lovely plant—a <i>lovely</i> plant, indeed!" +rejoined the minister, for a moment setting down his glass to wipe +his brow. "I remember now detecting the same fragrance when I +watered my horse at that spring. But I did not dream that +it—I wonder—" he broke off, taking up his +glass—"that its virtues are not more widely apprehended. I +have never heard that an acceptable beverage might be made from +it."</p> +<p>"Not every one can make a mint julep as Clem can," said his +hostess.</p> +<p>A moist and futile splutter from the bottom of the minister's +glass was his only reply.</p> +<p>He set the glass back on the table with a pleasant speculation +showing in his eyes. The talk became again animated. Chiefly the +minister talked, and his hostess found him most companionable.</p> +<p>"Let me offer you another julep," she said, after a little, +noting that his eyes had swept the empty glass with a chastened +blankness. The minister let her.</p> +<p>"If it would not be troubling you—really? The heat is +excessive, and I find that the mint, simple herb though it be, is +strangely salutary."</p> +<p>The minister was a man of years and weight and worth. He +possessed a reliant simplicity that put him at once close to those +he met. Of these, by his manner, he asked all: confidence without +reserve, troubles, doubts, distresses, material or otherwise. And +this manner of his prevailed. The hearts of his people opened to +him as freely as his own opened to receive them. He was a good man +and, partly by reason of this ingenuous, unsuspicious mind, an +invaluable instrument of grace.</p> +<p>When he had talked to Miss Caroline through the second +julep,—digressing only to marvel briefly again that the +properties of mint should so long have been Nature's own secret in +Little Arcady,—telling her his joys, his griefs, his +interests, which were but the joys and griefs and interests of his +people, he wrought a spell upon her so that she in turn became +confiding.</p> +<p>She was an Episcopalian. Her line had been born Episcopalians +since a time whereof no data were obtainable; and this was, of +course, not a condition to meddle with in late life, even if one's +mind should grow consenting. For that matter, Miss Caroline would +be frank and pretend to no change of mind. She was an old woman and +fixed. She could not at this day free herself of a doubtless +incorrect notion that the outside churches—meaning those not +Episcopal—had been intended for people other than her own +family and its offshoots. Clem had once been a Baptist, and it was +true that he was now a Methodist. He had told her that his new +religion was distinguished from the old by being "dry religion". +But these were intricacies with which a woman of Miss Caroline's +years could not be expected to entangle herself. This she would +say, however, that during her residence in Little Arcady she would +fling aside the prejudice of a lifetime and worship each Sabbath at +the minister's Methodist church.</p> +<p>It did not seem to the minister that she said it as might an +explorer who consents for a time to adopt the manner and customs of +the tribe among which a spirit of adventure has led him. He +accepted her implied tribute modestly and with unaffected +gratification, again wiping his brow and his broad, good face.</p> +<p>When I joined them at four o'clock, having been moved by hope of +a cooling chat with Miss Caroline, the minister was slightly more +flushed, I thought, than the day could warrant. He was about to +leave, was, in fact, concluding his choicest anecdote of "Big Joe" +Kestril—for he was a man who met all our kinds. "Big Joe," +six feet, five, a tower of muscled brawn, standing on a corner, +pleasantly inebriated, had watched go feebly by the tottering, +palsied form of little old Bolivar Kent, our most aged and richest +man. The minister, also passing, had observed Kestril's humorous +stare.</p> +<p>"The big fellow called to me," he was saying to Miss Caroline as +I came up. "'Parson,' said he—they all know me familiarly, +madam—'Parson,' said he, 'I wish I could take all I'm worth +and all old Kent is worth and put it in a bunch on the sidewalk +there and then fight the old cuss for it!'"</p> +<p>It was a favorite anecdote of the minister's, but I had never +known him before to tell it to a lady on the occasion of his first +call. Miss Caroline laughed joyously as she turned to greet me.</p> +<p>"I can't tell you how finely I've been entertained," she said to +me.</p> +<p>"Nor can I tell him for myself, madam," retorted the minister. I +thought indeed he spoke with an effort that made this gallantry +seem not altogether baseless in fact.</p> +<p>"I was on the point of leaving," said the minister.</p> +<p>"Are you returning home, or have you more calls in the +neighborhood?" I asked, feeling just a tinge of uneasiness about +his expansive manner.</p> +<p>"No more calls, no. I had planned, instead, a pleasant walk up +along the riverside to a spring some distance above. I mean to +procure a supply of this delicious mint—for mint juleps," he +added affably.</p> +<p>"Come with me," I urged. I was about to walk out myself. +Together we bade adieu to Miss Caroline.</p> +<p>But the minister's walk ended at my own door. In the cool gloom +of my little library I asked him if he would be good enough to +excuse me a moment, indicating the broad couch beneath the +window.</p> +<p>"With pleasure, Major!" and he sank among the restful pillows. +"I am ashamed to say that the heat has rendered me a trifle +indolent".</p> +<p>When I came softly back five minutes later, he lay in deep +slumber, his face cherubically innocent, his breathing soft as a +babe's. He awoke freshly two hours later. He apologized for his +rudeness and expressed a wish for a glass of cool water. Three of +these he drank with evidences of profound relish. Then he drew his +large silver watch from his pocket.</p> +<p>"On my word, Major, it's after six, and I shall be late for tea! +I have trespassed shamefully upon you!"</p> +<p>"The heat was very trying," I said.</p> +<p>"Quite enervating, indeed! I seem only now to be feeling its +effects."</p> +<p>As he walked briskly down the now cooling street, he bared his +brow to the gentle breeze of evening.</p> +<p>To the ladies, solicitous about Miss Caroline, who called upon +him a few days later, he said, "She is a most admirable and lovely +woman—not at all a person one could bring one's self to +address on the painful subject of intoxicants. Had she offered me a +glass of wine or other stimulant, a way might have been opened, but +I am delighted to say that her hospitality went no farther than +this innocent beverage." The minister indicated on his study table +a glass containing sweetened ice-water in which some leaves of mint +had been submerged.</p> +<p>"It is called a mint julep," he added, "though I confess I do +not get the same delicate tang from the herb that her black fellow +does. As he prepared the decoction I assure you its flavor was +capital!"</p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CH17">CHAPTER XVII</a></h2> +<center>THE TRUTH ABOUT SHAKSPERE AT LAST</center> +<p>Miss Caroline dutifully returned the calls that were paid her, +with never a suspicion that her slavery to strong drink had been +the secret inspiration of them. She was not yet awake to our +sentiments in this matter. She had given strong waters to the +minister with a heart as innocent as their disguise of ice and +leafage had made them actually appear to that good man. And I, who +was well informed, hesitated to warn her, hoping weakly that she +would come to understand. For I had seen there were many things +that Miss Caroline had not to be told in order to know.</p> +<p>For one, she had quickly divined that the ladies of Little +Arcady considered her furniture to be unfortunate. She knew that +they scorned it for its unstylishness; that some of them +sympathized in the humiliation that such impossible stuff must be +to her; while others believed that she was too unsophisticated to +have any proper shame in the matter. These latter strove by every +device to have her note the right thing in furniture and thus be +moved to contrast it instructively with her own: as when Mrs. Judge +Robinson borrowed for an afternoon Aunt Delia McCormick's best blue +plush rocker, Mrs. Westley Keyts's new sofa, upholstered with +gorgeous ingrain, and Mrs. Eubanks's new black walnut combination +desk and bookcase with brass trimmings and little spindled +balconies, in which could be elegantly placed the mineral specimens +picked up along the river bank, and the twin statuettes of the +fluting shepherd and his inamorata. As Mrs. Judge Robinson herself +possessed new and high-priced furniture, including a gold-and-onyx +stand to occupy the bay window and uphold the Rogers group, "Going +for the Parson," as well as two fragile gilt chairs, which +considerate guests would not sit in but leave exposed to view, and +a complete new set of black walnut, the effect that day—which +included a grand smell of varnish—was nothing less than +sumptuous.</p> +<p>The occasion was a semi-monthly meeting of the Ladies' Home +Study and Culture Club, at which Miss Caroline was to be present. +There had been a suspension of the Club's meetings while Mrs. Potts +was in abeyance, but on this day she was to enter the world again +and preside over the meeting as "Madam President," though the +ladies sometimes forgot to call her that.</p> +<p>The paper read by Mrs. Potts—who was not at all +ineffective in her black—was on "The Lake Poets," with a few +pointed selections from Wordsworth and others.</p> +<p>Whether or not Miss Caroline was rightly impressed by the +furniture exhibit was a question not easy to determine. True, she +stared at it with something in her eyes beyond a mere perception of +its lines; but whether this was the longing passion of an awakened +soul or the simple awe of the unenlightened was not to be +ascertained at the moment.</p> +<p>Testimony as to her enjoyment of the President's paper was more +circumstantial. In the midst of this, as the listeners were +besought to "dwell a moment on this exquisite delineation of +Nature,"—expertly pronounced "Nate-your" by Mrs. +Potts,—Miss Caroline turned her head aside as one deeply +moved by the poet's magic. But Marcella Eubanks, glancing at that +moment into a mirror on the opposite wall,—a mirror in a +plush frame on which pansies had been painted,—caught the +full and frank exposure of a yawn. It was a thorough yawn. Miss +Caroline had surrendered abjectly to it, in the +belief—unrecking the mirror—that she could not be +detected.</p> +<p>The discussion that followed the paper—as was customary at +the meetings—proved to be a bit livelier. Each lady said +something she had thought up to say, beginning, "Does it not +seem—" or "Are we not forced to conclude—"</p> +<p>I suspect that Miss Caroline was sleepy. Perhaps she was nettled +by the boredom she had been made to endure without just +provocation; perhaps the fashionable fumes of varnish had been +toxic to her unaccustomed senses. At any rate she now compromised +herself regrettably.</p> +<p>Mrs. Westley Keyts had been thinking up something to say, +something choice that should yet be sufficiently vague not to +incriminate her. It had seemed that these requirements would be met +if she said, in a tone of easy patronage, "Mr. Wordsworth is +certainly a very bright writer of poetry, but as for me—give +<i>me</i> Shakspere!"</p> +<p>She had thought of saying "the Bard of Avon," a polished phrase +coined for his "Compendium" by the ingenious Mr. Gaskell; but, +hearing her own voice strangely break the silence, Mrs. Keyts +became timid at the last moment and let it go at "Shakspere."</p> +<p>"Oh, Shakspere—of <i>course</i>!" said most of the ladies +at once, and those not quick enough to utter it concertedly looked +it almost reprovingly at the speaker.</p> +<p>A silence fell, as if every one must have time to recover from +this trivial platitude. But it was a silence outrageously shattered +by Miss Caroline, who said:—</p> +<p>"O dear! I've always considered Shakspere such an overrated +man!"</p> +<p>The silence grew more intense, only Mrs. Potts emitting a slight +but audible gasp. But swift looks flashed from each lady to her +horrified sisters. Was it possible that the unfortunate woman had +been in no condition to come among them?</p> +<p>"Oh, a <i>greatly</i> overrated man!" repeated Miss Caroline, +terribly, "far too wordy—too fond of wretched puns—so +much of his humor coarse and tiresome. By the way, have you ladies +taken up Byron?"</p> +<p>The moment was charged, almost to explosion. A crisis impended, +out of the very speechlessness of the gathering. Mrs. Potts was +aghast in behalf of William Shakspere, and Marcella Eubanks was +crimsoning at the blunt query about Byron, well knowing that he +could be taken up by a lady only with the wariest caution, and that +he would much better be let alone. The others were torn +demoralizingly between these two extremes of distress.</p> +<p>But the situation was saved by the ready wit of Mrs. Judge +Robinson.</p> +<p>"I think the hour has come for refreshments, Madam President!" +she said urbanely, and the meeting was nervously adjourned. Under +the animation thus induced an approximate equilibrium was restored. +The ladies gulped down chicken salad, many of them using forks with +black thread tied about them to show they were borrowed from Mrs. +Eubanks. They drank lemonade from a fine glass pitcher that had +come as a gratuitous mark of esteem from the tea merchant +patronized by the hostess; and they congealed themselves pleasantly +with vanilla ice-cream eaten from dishes of excellent pressed glass +that had come one by one as the Robinson family consumed its baking +powder.</p> +<p>But Miss Caroline would have been dense indeed had she not +divined, even amid that informal babbling, that she was being +viewed by the ladies of the Club with a shocked stupefaction.</p> +<p>Precisely what emotion this knowledge left with her I have never +known. But I do know that before the meeting broke up, it had been +agreed to hold the next one at the house of Miss Caroline herself. +It may be that she suggested and urged this in pure desperation, +wishing to regain a favor which she had felt unaccountably +withdrawn; and it may be that the ladies accepted in a similar +desperation, knowing not how to inform her that she was grossly +ineligible for membership in a Home Study Club.</p> +<p>The intervening two weeks were filled with tales and talks of +Miss Caroline's heresy. Excitement and adverse criticism were +almost universally aroused. It was a scandal of proportions almost +equal to that of her love for strong drink. About most writers one +could be permitted to have an opinion. But it was not thought that +one could properly have an opinion about Shakspere, and, so far as +we knew, no one had ever before subjected him to this indignity. +One might as well have an opinion about Virtue or the law of +gravitation. An opinion of any sort was impossible. One favorable +would be puny, futile, immodestly patronizing. An unfavorable +opinion had heretofore not been within realms of the idlest +speculation.</p> +<p>There were but two of us, I believe, who did not promptly +condemn Miss Caroline's violence of speech—two men of varying +parts. Westley Keyts frankly said he had never been able to "get +into" Shakspere, and considered it, as a book for reading purposes, +inferior to "Cudjo's Cave," which he had read three times. The +minister, whose church Miss Caroline now patronized,—that +term being chosen after some deliberation,—held up both his +hands at the news and mildly exclaimed, "Well!" Then, after a +pause, "Well, well!" And still again, after another pause, "Well, +well, well!"</p> +<p>This was thought to be shifty and evasive—certainly not so +outspoken as the town had a right to expect.</p> +<p>Solon Denney, though in his heart true to Shakspere, affected +to be gleeful. A paragraph, mysterious to many, including Miss +Caroline, appeared in the ensuing <i>Argus</i>:—</p> +<p>"An encounter long supposed by scientists to be a mere +metaphysical abstraction of almost playful import has at last +occurred in sober physics. The irresistible force has met up with +the immovable body. We look for results next week."</p> +<p>I knew that Solon considered Miss Caroline to be an irresistible +force. I was uncertain whether Shakspere or Mrs. Potts was meant +by the immovable body. I knew that he held them in equal awe, and I +knew that Mrs. Potts felt, in a way, responsible for Shakspere this +far west of Boston, regarding any attack upon him as a personal +affront to herself.</p> +<p>On the day of the next meeting the ladies of the Club gathered +in the dingy and inelegant drawing-room of Miss Caroline. No +vividly flowered carpet decked the floor; only a time-toned rug +that left the outer edge of the floor untidily exposing its dull +stain; no gilt and onyx table bore its sculptured fantasy by the +busy Rogers. The mantel and shelves were bare of those fixed +ornaments that should decorate the waste places of all true homes; +there were no flint arrow-heads, no "specimens," no varnished pine +cones, no "Rock of Ages," no waxen lilies, not even a china cup +goldenly emblazoned with "Love the Giver," in German script. And +there were no beautiful chairs with delicate gilded +spindles—not an elegant and impracticable chair in the whole +big room—not one chair which could not be occupied as +comfortably as any common kitchen rocker. It was indeed a poor +place; obviously the woman's best room, yet showing careless traces +of almost daily use. To ladies who never opened their best rooms +save to dust and air them on days when company was expected, and +who would as soon have lounged in them informally as they would +have desecrated a church, this laxity was heinous.</p> +<p>And ordinarily, in the best rooms of one another, the ladies +became spontaneously, rigidly formal as they assembled, speaking in +tones suitably stiff of the day's paper, or viewing with hushed +esteem those art treasures that surrounded them.</p> +<p>But so difficult was it to attain this formality amid the homely +surroundings of Miss Caroline that to-day they not only lounged +with negligent ease in the big chairs and on the poor, broad sofas, +but they talked familiarly of their household concerns quite as if +they had been in one of their own second-best rooms on any common +day.</p> +<p>On a table in one cool corner was a huge bowl of thin silver, +whence issued a baffling fragrance. Discreet observation, as the +throng gathered, revealed this to contain a large block of ice and +a colored liquid in which floated cherries with slices of lemon and +orange. A ladle of generous lines reposed in the bowl, and circling +it on the table were many small cups.</p> +<p>There was a feeling of relief when these details had been +ascertained. Fear had been felt that Miss Caroline might forget +herself and offer them a glass of wine, or something worse, from a +large black bottle; for Little Arcady believed, in its innocent +remoteness, that the devil's stuff came in no other way than large +black bottles. Miss Eubanks had made sure that the ladies wore +their white ribbons. Marcella's own satin bow was larger than +common, so that no one might mistake the principles of the heart +beating beneath it.</p> +<p>But the cool big bowl with its harmless fruit restored +confidence at once, and when Miss Caroline urged them to try Clem's +punch they refrained not. The walk to the north end of town on a +sultry afternoon had qualified them to receive its consolations, +and they gathered gratefully about.</p> +<p>Marcella Eubanks quaffed the first beaker, a trifle timorously, +it is true, for the word "punch" had stirred within her a vague +memory of sinister associations. Sometime she had read a tale in +which one Howard Melville had gone to the great city and wrecked a +career of much promise by accepting a glass of something from the +hands of a beautiful but thoughtless girl, pampered child of the +banker with whom he had secured a position. For a dread moment +Marcella seemed to recall that the fatal draught was named "punch." +But after a tentative sip of the compound at hand, she decided that +it must have been something else—doubtless "a glass of +sparkling wine." For this punch before her was palpably of a babe's +innocence. Indeed it tasted rather like an inferior lemonade. But +it was cold, and Marcella tossed off a second cup of it. She could +make better lemonade herself, and she murmured slightingly of the +stuff to Aunt Delia McCormick.</p> +<p>"It wants more lemons and more sugar," said Marcella, firmly. +Aunt Delia pressed back the white satin bow on her bosom in order +to manage her second glass with entire safety.</p> +<p>"I don't know, Marcella," she said in a dreamy undertone, after +draining the cup to its cherry. "I don't know—it does seem to +take hold, for all it tastes so trifling."</p> +<p>As each lady arrived she was led to the punch-bowl. When the +last one had been taught the way to that cool nook, there was a +pleasant hum of voices in the room. There was still an undercurrent +of difference as to the punch's merit—other than mere +coolness; though Miss Eubanks now agreed with Aunt Delia that it +possessed virtues not to be discerned in the first careless +draught. The conversation continued to be general, to the immense +delight of the hostess, for she had dreaded the ordeal of that +formal opening, with its minutes of the last meeting; and she had +dared even to hope that the day's paper might, by tactful +management, be averted.</p> +<p>She waxed more daringly hopeful when Clem came to refill the +punch-bowl. She felt that she owed much to the heat of the day, +which was insuring the thirst of the arrivals. The punch and +general conversation seemed to suffice them even after their first +thirst had been allayed. She began to wonder if the ladies were not +a more unbending and genial lot than she had once suspected.</p> +<p>A considerable group of them now chatted vivaciously about the +replenished bowl, including Madam the President, who had arrived +very thirsty indeed, and who was now, between sips, accounting for +the singular favor which the Adams family had always found in the +sight of God and the people of Massachusetts. She seemed to be +prevailed over, not without difficulty, by Aunt Delia, who related +her failure to learn from Clem the ingredients of his acceptable +punch. This was not surprising, for Clem was either never able or +never willing to tell how he made anything whatever. Of this punch +Aunt Delia had been able to wheedle from him only that it contained +"some little fixin's." Insistent questioning did develop, further, +that "cold tea" was one of these; but cold tea did not make plain +its recondite potencies—did not explain why a beverage so +unassuming to the taste should inspire one with a wish to partake +of it continuously.</p> +<p>"We might get him to make a barrel of it for the Sunday-school +picnic," said Marcella, brightly, over her fourth cup. "If it +contains only a little tea, perhaps the effect upon the children +would not be deleterious."</p> +<p>"We'll try it," said Aunt Delia, reaching for the ladle at sight +of empty cups in the hands of Mrs. Judge Robinson and Mrs. Westley +Keyts. "<i>I'll</i> furnish the cherries and the sugar and the +tea."</p> +<p>How it came about was never quite understood by the ladies, but +the true and formal note of a Ladies' Home Study Club was never +once struck that afternoon. Madam the President did not call the +meeting to order, the minutes of the last meeting are unread to +this day, and a motion to adjourn never became necessary.</p> +<p>It had been thought wisest to keep entirely away from poetry at +this meeting, and the paper for the day, to have been read by +Marcella Eubanks, was "The Pathos of Charles Dickens." Marcella had +taken unusual pains in its preparation, bringing with her two +volumes of the author from which to read at the right moment the +deaths of Little Nell and Paul Dombey. She had practised these +until she could make her voice quaver effectively, and she had +looked forward to a genuine ovation when she sat down.</p> + +<p class="figure"><a href="images/illp220t.jpg"><img width="50%" +src="images/illp220t.jpg" alt= +"WE MIGHT GET HIM TO MAKE A BARREL OF IT FOR THE SUNDAY-SCHOOL PICNIC" /> +</a></p> +<center><h5>"WE MIGHT GET HIM TO MAKE A BARREL OF IT FOR THE SUNDAY-SCHOOL +PICNIC"</h5></center> + +<p>If it is clearly understood, then, that no one thought of +calling for the paper, that even its proud author felt the hours +gliding by without any poignant regret, it should be seen that the +occasion had strangely come to be one of pure and joyous +relaxation, with never an instructive or cultured or studious +moment.</p> +<p>There was talk of domestic concerns, sprightly town gossip, +mirth, wit, and anecdotes. Aunt Delia McCormick told her parrot +story, which was <i>risqué</i>, even when no gentlemen were +present, for the parrot said "damn it!" in the course of his +surprisingly human repartee under difficulties.</p> +<p>Mrs. Westley Keyts, the bars being down, thereupon began another +parrot story. But Miss Eubanks, who had observed that all parrot +stories have "damn" in them, suddenly conceived that matters had +gone far enough in <i>that</i> direction. Affecting not to have +heard Mrs. Keyts's opening of "A returned missionary made a gift of +a parrot to two elderly maiden ladies—" Marcella led the +would-be anecdotist to the punch-bowl, and, under the cover of +operations there, spoke to her in an undertone. Mrs. Keyts said +that the thing had been printed right out on the funny page of +"Hearth and Home," but over the cup of punch that Marcella pressed +upon her, she consented to forego it on account of the minister's +wife being present.</p> +<p>There were other anecdotes, however; not of a parrot character, +but chiefly of funny sayings of the little ones at home. Mrs. Judge +Robinson, with the artistic mendacity of your true +<i>raconteur</i>, accredited to her own four-year-old a speech +about the stars being holes in the floor of heaven, although it was +said of this gem in "Harper's Drawer," where she had read it, that +"the following good one comes to us from a lady subscriber in the +well-known city of X——."</p> +<p>It could not be recalled afterwards how, from this harmless +exchange, they had come to be listening to passages from the +adventurous life of Childe Harold, read crisply by their hostess. +Still less could the ladies later comprehend how some of their +number had been guilty of innuendos—or worse—against +the well-known Bard of Avon. Yet, so it was.</p> +<p>Miss Caroline herself had refrained from abusing him—had +seemed to have forgotten him, indeed; but, as she read Byron to +them, their hearts opened to her—rushed out, indeed, with a +friendly wholeness that demanded something more than mere cordial +applause of her favorite poet. Some intimation of a sympathy with +her view of the other poet came to seem not ungraceful. During one +of the reader's pauses to impress upon them the splendors of the +Byronic imagery, and eke its human heart-warmth, good Aunt Delia, +with defiant looks about the circle, broke in with:—</p> +<p>"I shouldn't wonder if Shakspere <i>has</i> been made too much +over."</p> +<p>Mrs. Keyts stepped loyally into the breach thus effected.</p> +<p>"Westley thinks Shakspere isn't such an <i>awful</i> good book," +she said, feeling her way, "though it seems to me it has some very +interesting and excellent pieces in it."</p> +<p>"Shakspere is <i>ver-ry</i> uneven," remarked Mrs. Judge +Robinson, in a tone of dignified concession.</p> +<p>"There is always a word to be said on either side of these +matters—there is undeniably room for controversy." Thus Mrs. +Potts, in her best manner of authority, from the punch-bowl.</p> +<p>"Let the dead rest!" gently murmured Miss Eubanks, from her +dreamy corner of the biggest sofa. Her inflection was archly +significant. One had to suspect that Shakspere, alive and a fair +target for dispraise, might have learned something to his advantage +if not to his delight.</p> +<p>Miss Caroline was both surprised and gratified. At the previous +meeting she had detected no sign of this concurring sentiment. She +plunged again into Byron with renewed enthusiasm.</p> +<p>The afternoon came to a glorious end, and the ladies departed +with many expressions of rejoicing. They had found Miss Caroline so +charming that several of them were torn with fresh pity and brought +to the verge of tears when they thought of her furniture.</p> +<p>Marcella Eubanks did cry on the way home and had to put down her +green barege veil. But that was for thinking of poor little Paul +Dombey. She was mourning him as a personal loss. Also must she have +adored the genius of a master who could thus move her from a calm +that was constitutional with every known Eubanks.</p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CH18">CHAPTER XVIII</a></h2> +<center>IN WHICH THE GAME WAS PLAYED</center> +<p>The next <i>Argus</i> said of Miss Caroline's afternoon that +"the ladies present one and all report a most enjoyable time." +There was another mysterious paragraph, too, farther down the +column of "locals," which proclaimed that "The immovable body has +at last been struck by the irresistible force and has failed to +live up to its reputation. It moved and moved so you could see it +move. Another bubble exploded! We live in a sensational age."</p> +<p>Now, while it is true that the ladies, "one and all," had spoken +with entire enthusiasm of their afternoon at the unpretentious home +of my neighbor, I, nevertheless, deemed it vital to hold plain +speech with that impulsive woman immediately. I saw, indeed, that I +should have acted after the incident of the mint juleps.</p> +<p>Solon Denney, who had experienced the hospitality of Miss +Caroline, and who could speak from a wider knowledge than our +minister or the ladies of the town, had once said:—</p> +<p>"Those mint juleps are simple, honest things. They taste +injurious from the start. But that punch—it's hypocritical. +It steals into your brain as a little child steals its rosebud hand +into yours, beguiling you with prattle; but afterwards—well, +if I had the choice, I'd rather be chloroformed and struck sharply +with an axe. I'd be my old self again sooner." Whereupon he would +have written a guarded piece for the paper about this had I not +dissuaded him. But I saw that I must at once have with Miss +Caroline what in a later day came to be called "a heart-to-heart +talk"; and I forthwith summoned what valor I could for the +ordeal.</p> +<p>"I never dreamed—I never suspected—how <i>should</i> +I?" she murmured pathetically, after my opening speech of a few +simple but telling phrases. She listened in genuine horror while I +gave the reasons why she might justly regard the call of our +minister and her entertainment of the Club as nothing short of +adventures—adventures which she had survived scathless not +but by the favor of an indulgent Providence.</p> +<p>"So <i>that</i> is what those little white satin bows mean?" she +asked, and I said that it most emphatically was.</p> +<p>"I suspected it might be some kind of mourning for +babies—a local custom, you know, though it did seem queer. +What can they think of me?"</p> +<p>"They don't know what to think now," I said, "and if you are +wise, you will never let them know."</p> +<p>"The Colonel was proud of that punch," she mused.</p> +<p>"I dare say he had reasons," I answered grimly.</p> +<p>"Especially after Cousin Looshe Peavey came to spend Christmas +with us one time. The Colonel had always considered Cousin Looshe +rather arrogant about this punch, and it may have been a special +brew. I know that Cousin had an immense respect for it after he was +able—that is—afterwards—"</p> +<p>"I can easily believe it."</p> +<p>"Cherry brandy—Jamaica rum—pint of +Madeira—gill of port—a bit of cordial—some +sherry—I forget if there's anything else."</p> +<p>I grasped the chair in which I sat.</p> +<p>"Heaven forbid!" I cried; "and don't tell me, anyway—I'm +reeling now."</p> +<p>"But of course there are lemons and oranges and cherries and tea +and <i>quantities</i> of ice to weaken it—"</p> +<p>"The whole frozen polar sea itself couldn't weaken that mixture +of elemental forces. See to it," I went on sternly, "that you +remember only the innocent parts of it if you are ever asked for +the recipe." She actually cowered.</p> +<p>"Also as to mint juleps—remember that you have forgotten, +if you ever knew how they are made."</p> +<p>"Dear, <i>dear</i>—and our Bishop did enjoy his mint julep +so!"</p> +<p>"That's different," I said; "they were probably raised +together."</p> +<p>"And that afternoon, I thought something of the sort was +necessary; do you know, they seemed rather cold to me at that other +meeting—and of course there wasn't enough of it to hurt +them."</p> +<p>"Your intentions were amiable, I concede, but your carelessness +was criminal—nothing short of it. You laid the train for a +scandal that would have shaken Slocum County to its remotest +outlying cornfield, and even made itself felt over this whole +sovereign state."</p> +<p>I was gratified to see that she shuddered.</p> +<p>"I shall never learn," she pleaded; "their life is so +different."</p> +<p>"Let them at least live it out to its natural end, such as it +is," I urged.</p> +<p>Hereupon, confessing herself unnerved, Miss Caroline led me to +the dining room, and in a glass of Madeira from a cask forwarded by +Second-cousin Colonel Lucius Quintus Peavey, C.S.A., she pledged +herself to preserve the decencies as these had been codified in +Little Arcady by the Sons and Daughters of Temperance. For my part +I drank to her continuance in the wondrous favor of Heaven.</p> +<p>Thereafter, I am bound to say, Miss Caroline conducted herself +with a discretion that was admirable. Upon more than one occasion I +was made to notice this. One of them was at an evening +entertainment at the Eubanks home that autumn, to which it was my +privilege to escort her. "A large and brilliant company was +present," to quote from a competent authority, and the refreshments +were "recherche," to quote again, this being, I believe, the first +of our social functions at which Japanese paper napkins were handed +around. Eustace Eubanks entertained "one and all" by exhibiting and +describing lantern views of important scenes in the Holy Land; +Marcella sang "Comin' Thro' the Rye" with such iron restraint that +the most fastidious among us could have found no cause for offence, +and Eustace sang an innocent song of war and bloodshed and death. +All went well until Eustace, being pressed for more, ventured a +drinking song. Whether this had been censored by his household I +have never learned. Perhaps there had been demurs—there were +almost certain to have been; and possibly Eustace had held out for +the thing because of the rare opportunity it afforded for the +exercise of his lowest tones. Perhaps it had been deemed wise to +indulge him in this, lest in rebellion he break all bonds of +propriety and revert to the "Bedouin Love Song." At any rate he +sang "Drinking," a song that lauds the wine-cup as chiefest of +godless joys, and terminating in "drinking" thrice reiterated, of +which each individual one finishes so much lower than it begins +that the last one seems to expire in the bottomless pit.</p> +<p>Many of those present appeared to enjoy this song. Even Marcella +Eubanks seemed for once to have soared above mere principle into +the unmoral realm of "Art for Art's sake." But it falls to be said, +and I say it with a pride which I think should not excite cavil, +that Miss Caroline frowned splendidly from the first moment that +the song's true character was revealed. She superbly evinced +uneasiness, moreover, when the thing was done, as if to say, "One +can't tell <i>what</i> may occur in a place where <i>that</i> is +permitted!" And her performance was not observed by myself alone. +Marcella saw it and sped to her brother, who, after listening to +hurried words from her, dashed into "The Lost Chord" with a swift +and desperate fervor, as if to allay all alarm in the mind of this +sensitive guest. Eustace was at heart as earnestly well meaning as +any Eubanks that ever lived, and his vagaries in song were +attributable solely to a trusting nature capriciously endowed with +a dash of the artistic temperament. It was only a dash, however. +Beyond doubt, had his family but known, he could have sung the +"Bedouin Love Song," and been none the worse for it.</p> +<p>If Miss Caroline's eloquent pantomime at this time aroused a +suspicion that she had been maligned, as to her habits of drink, +her behavior on a subsequent evening, when Mrs. Judge Robinson +entertained, left no one to doubt it. There was music, too, on this +occasion—described elsewhere as "a gala occasion"—after +Eustace had concluded his part of the entertainment and gotten his +lantern out of the way,—music by a quartet consisting of +Messrs. Fancett and Eubanks, first and second bass, and Messrs. +Updyke and G. Brown, first and second tenor. In excellent accord +these tenors and basses, so blameless in their living, lifted up +their voices and sang they "would that the wavelets of ocean were +wavelets of sparkling champagne!" It was a blithe and rippling +morceau if one could forget the well-nigh cosmic depravity of it; +but Miss Caroline, it appeared, was not able to forget. She +confided as much to Marcella Eubanks and Aunt Delia McCormick, +intimating that while she was doubly desirous to be pleased because +of her position as an outsider, she was, nevertheless, a silly old +woman, encrusted with prejudice, and she could not deny that she +found this song <i>suggestive</i>. Her eyes glistened when she said +it, and Marcella felt like pinning a white ribbon to her then and +there.</p> +<p>Escorting Miss Caroline to her home that night, I listened to +her account of this colloquy and found myself wishing that matters +had been different. It seemed to me that I must ultimately become +the victim of a romantic passion for her, and I told her as much +when we parted.</p> +<p>Gossip, the yellow-tongued dragon, had been tracked to its lair +and done to death, or at least that one of its heads had been +smitten off which babbled slander of Miss Caroline.</p> +<p>Thenceforth she and I were free to think upon other matters. And +there were these other matters in both our lives.</p> +<p>As to most of them we did not hold speech together. Our intimacy +as yet lay quite within a circle so charmed that it might not be +entered by things too personal to either of us. By a kind of tacit +treaty we brought thither none but those affairs which invited a +not too serious tone. Our late common life had provided an +abundance of these, and they had been hailed by my friend with an +unfailing levity which the widow of J. Rodney Potts, for one, would +have found it impossible to condone. "I am a light old woman," she +had said to me; "I laugh at the world even when I fear it most." +There was a desperate sprite of banter in her eye when she made +this confession, a sprite that leaped forth to be gay when I +shrived her. But, though we sacredly observed all mirthful +conventions in our dallying, I knew that Miss Caroline had more +than enough to ponder of matters weighty. I knew that she was +likely to have regretted a too-ready sharing of Clem's easy +enthusiasm over industrial conditions in the North.</p> +<p>Clem believed by instinct not only that the evil thereof is +sufficient unto the day, but that the incidental good sufficeth +also. His quality of faith would have seemed a pointed rebuke to +the common run of believers in a Providence that watches and sends. +Confronted by the spectre of present want he could exorcise it +neatly by the device of beholding, in a contrary vision, future +limitless pullets of a marketable immaturity, or endless acres of +garden produce ripe and ready to sell. Moreover, his experience +with "gold money" was as yet insufficient to acquaint him with its +truly volatile character. All sums greater than a hundred dollars +were blessedly alike to him—equally prodigious. Two hundred, +or thousands, or tens of thousands sent the same rays of light +through the spectrum of his poetic mind, and a bank was an +institution of such abiding grace that, having once established a +connection with it, one possessed forever a stout prop in time of +need. I was sure indeed that Miss Caroline had defined these +limitations of Clem as a financier. It was one of those enjoyable +topics which we had been free to discuss. That she had discovered +how lamentably his resources had been reduced by freight tolls on +her furniture I could only infer. But I knew, at least, that she +was aware of the blistering, rainless summer that had laid Clem's +high hopes of a garden in dust and cut off half his revenue. +Plainly, Miss Caroline had more than enough of matters fit to +engage her graver moments.</p> +<p>For my own part I, too, had matters to dwell upon of an equal +gravity in their own poor way; though perhaps, too, I could not +have defined them as understandingly as I did the perplexities of +my neighbor.</p> +<p>Happily the feat need not be attempted; I had the game, in which +troubles may be played away at least beyond the necessity for +analyzing them—the game which requires two decks and is to be +played alone—the most efficacious of those devices for the +solitary which cards afford.</p> +<p>I had been made acquainted with its scheme and with some of its +cruder virtues by a certain illustrious soldier whom I was once +much thrown with. He confessed to me that he played it before a +battle to inspire him with coolness, and after a battle to learn +wise behavior under victory or defeat, as it might have been.</p> +<p>I was persuaded to learn more of it. I played the thing at +first, to be sure, as I have noticed that novices always do, with a +mind so bent upon "getting it" that I was insensible of its +curative and refining agencies.</p> +<p>"You haven't the secret yet," said my mentor, who watched me as +I won for the first time, and was moved to warn me by my +unconcealed pride in this achievement. "After you've played it a +few years, you'll learn that the value of it lies chiefly in +losing. You'll try like the devil to win, of course, but you'll +learn not to wish for it. To win is nothing but an endless piling +up of the right cards, beginning with the ace and ending with the +king, and it only means more shuffling for next time. But every +time you lose you will learn things about everything."</p> +<p>It was even as he said,—it took me years to learn this +true merit of the game; and still, as he had said, I learned much +from it of life.</p> +<p>There is a fine moment at the last shuffling of the cards, a +moment when free will and fatalism are indistinguishably +merged.</p> +<p>I am ready to lay down eight cards in a horizontal row off my +double deck. Who will say that the precise number of shuffles I +have given to it was preordained?</p> +<p>"I do," exclaimed an obliging fatalist. "The sequence of every +one of those cards was determined when we were yet star-dust."</p> +<p>I bring confusion to him by performing half a dozen other +shuffles. I am thus far the master of my unborn game—another +last shuffle to prove it, though I shuffle clumsily enough.</p> +<p>I glance disdainfully at the fatalist whom I have refuted, and +prepare again to lay down the first row of cards. But the fellow +comes back with, "Those last shuffles were also determined, as was +this challenge—"</p> +<p>"Very well!" and I prepare for still another rearrangement. But +here I reflect that this could be endless and not at all +interesting.</p> +<p>I dismiss the fatalist as a quibbler and play on. Now there is +no dispute, unless there be other quibblers. Fixed is the order in +which the cards shall fall, eight at a time. There is pure +fatalism. But in the movings after each eight are dealt, I shall +consciously choose and judge, which is pure free will—or an +imitation of it sufficiently colorable to satisfy any, but +quibblers. There, for me, is the fatalism of body, the free will of +soul. Of these I learn when I play the game.</p> +<p>Now my first eight cards are down in a horizontal row. There are +two kings among them, which is auspicious, for kings must be placed +sometime at the top. There is a red queen, also auspicious, to be +placed on one of the black kings. There is an ace of diamonds and +its deuce. Good, again! The ace is placed above the row, beginning +a row of aces to be placed there as fast as they fall, and the +deuce is placed atop of it, for in that row the suits will be built +<i>up</i>, each in its kind. In the lower rows the suits are to be +built down and crossed, as when I played the red queen on the black +king, so that only the top of his crowned head can be seen. Then I +play a red eight on a black nine and a black seven on the red +eight. I am now left most fortunately with five spaces when I deal +off my second row of eight,—five spaces into which, it may +be, a king or two shall happily fall.</p> +<p>The game usually becomes intense after the third eight cards are +played. By that time a choice must be made. Shall this black six or +the other be played on the red seven? One must be wise, for either +will release important cards.</p> +<p>The game has started so well that it promises to play out too +easily—which is one of its tricks. Presently a deuce will be +covered by a king for which no space is ready, a dark queen will be +buried under a succession of smaller cards, crowding along with +apparent carelessness, but relentlessly. Now a space is opened for +the king that covers the deuce, but the king has meantime been +covered by an insignificant but unmanageable four-spot, and cannot +be reached. The game is not so absurdly easy as it promised to be. +Still it may be won by clever playing. There follow eight cards +that prove to be immovable, and the issue is almost in doubt. Now +the last eight cards are down, and the game is suddenly seen to be +lost. One small other shuffle might have won it; if that tray of +spades had fallen one place to the right or left, the thing would +now be easy; if it were a deuce or a four, the thing were easy. One +spot on the card has brought ruin. The game has foiled us with its +own peculiar cleverness.</p> +<p>But then, we learn to expect failure; and, most important of +all, we learn to succeed while failing. We learn to see our cards +fall wretchedly without a tremor. We learn to take small gains that +offer, and to watch unmoved while splendid chances come to naught. +We learn to live life and to waste no energy in vain wishing that +we had shuffled differently. We learn even to marvel admiringly at +the unobtrusive cunning which thwarts us of our dream's +own—to wonder that cards ever should come right for any +player in that maze of chances and faulty judgments. And we learn, +above all, to brush the things together without loss of time and to +play a new hand with the same old hope.</p> +<p>As I studied the cards, making sure of my defeat—one must +be most careful to do that; a way is sometimes to be found—it +was not strange that I fell to thinking of the face on my +neighbor's wall.</p> +<p>I had mused often upon it since that first night. It seemed, +curiously enough, to be a face that had long been mistily afloat in +my shut eyes, a girl's face that had a trick of blending from time +to time with the face of another I had better reason to know. +Unaccountably they had come and gone, one followed by the other. Of +that last new face in my vision I could make nothing, save that +some one seemed to have painted it over there in the other house. +How I had come by my own mind copy of it was a mystery to me beyond +solution.</p> +<p>I played the game again to still this perplexity which had a way +of seizing me at odd moments. It is an especially good game for a +man who has had to believe that life will always beat him.</p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CH19">CHAPTER XIX</a></h2> +<center>A WORTHLESS BLACK HOUND</center> +<p>After an autumn speciously benign came our season of cold and +snow. It proved to be a season of unwonted severity, every weather +expert in town, from Uncle William McCormick, who had kept a diary +record for thirty years, to Grandma Steck, who had foretold its +coming from a goose-bone, agreeing that the cold was most unusual. +The editor of the <i>Argus</i> not only spoke of "Nature's snowy +mantle," but coined another happy phrase about Little Arcady being +"locked in the icy embrace of winter." This was admitted to be +accurately literal, in spite of its poetic daring.</p> +<p>Miss Caroline confessed homesickness to me after the first heavy +snow. She spoke as lightly of it as she should have done, but I +could see that her own land pulled at her heart with every blast +that shook her casements. No longer, however, was there even a +second-cousin whose hospitality she was free to claim, for Colonel +Lucius Quintus Peavey, C.S.A., now slept with his fathers in +far-off Virginia, leaving behind him only traditions and a little +old sherry. The former Miss Caroline had always shared with him, +and a cask of the latter he bequeathed to her with his love. And +the valley being now void of her kin, she was doubly an exile.</p> +<p>Such new desolation as she must have felt was masked under +jesting dispraise of our execrable Northern climate. Surely a land +permitted to congeal so utterly had forfeited the grace of its +Maker.</p> +<p>Clem's lack of executive genius also earned a meed of my +neighbor's disparagement. He was a worthless, trifling "boy," an +idling dreamer, an irresponsible, inconsequent visionary, in whose +baseless fancies it was astounding that a woman of her years should +fatuously place reliance.</p> +<p>I must confess that I was more than once guilty of irritation +when Miss Caroline spoke thus slightingly of her "boy"—of one +who had been unable to view himself as other than her personal +property. Again and again it seemed to me that, fine little +creature that she was, her tone toward Clem lacked the right +feeling. I should not have demanded gratitude precisely; at least +no bald expression of it. But a manner of speech denoting, if not +wording, a recognition of his unswerving loyalty would have +accorded better with the estimate I had otherwise formed of her +character. The absence of any tone or word that even one so devoted +as I could construe to her advantage was puzzling in the +extreme.</p> +<p>Still, feeling toward her as I did, I was compelled to excuse +her as best I might by attributing her hardness to an evil system +now happily abolished. But the nerves in my lost arm seemed to +tingle with a secret satisfaction when I thought of Clem's empty +reward for his life-work and remembered that I had helped, though +ever so little, to free him and his kind from a bond so unfortunate +for each of the parties to it.</p> +<p>The winter deepened about us, chill and bleak and ravaging. The +smoke from our chimneys went up in tall columns that lost +themselves in the gray sky. The snow shut us in, and presently the +wind lay in wait to blast us when we dared the drifts.</p> +<p>Yet Miss Caroline throve, despite her nostalgia. She was even +jaunty in her recital of the weather's minor hardships. To its +rigors she brought a front of resolute gayety. A new stove graced +the parlor, a stove with the proud nickeled title of "Frost King"; +a title seen to be deserved when Clem had it properly gorged with +dry wood. Within its tropic radiations Miss Caroline bloomed and +was hale of being, like some hardy perennial.</p> +<p>Of Clem, nothing but hardiness was to be anticipated. He had +been toughened by four other of our winters, all said to have been +unusual for severity. And yet it was Clem, curiously enough, and +not Miss Caroline, who found the season most trying. True, he had +to be abroad most of the time, procuring sustenance for the +insatiable "Frost King," or performing labor for other people by +which Miss Caroline should preserve her independence; but it was +not supposed that a creature of his sort could be subject to +weaknesses natural enough to a superior race.</p> +<p>I believe this was his own view of the matter; for when he +admitted to me one morning that he had "took cold in the chest," +his manner was one of deprecating confusion, and he swore me +against betrayal of his lapse to Miss Caroline.</p> +<p>She discovered his guilt for herself, however, after a few days, +from his very annoying cough. She taxed him with it so sturdily +that efforts at deception availed him not. His tale that the snow +sifted into his "bref-place" and "tickled it" was pitifully +unconvincing, for his cough was deeper than Eustace Eubanks's +proudest note in the drinking song.</p> +<p>"He's a worthless thing," said Miss Caroline, telling me of his +fault, and I said he was indeed—that he hadn't served me four +years without my finding <i>that</i> out. I added that he was +undoubtedly shamming, but that at the same time it might be as well +to take a few simple precautions. Miss Caroline said that of course +he was shamming, in order to get out of work, and that she would +soon drive <i>that</i> nonsense out of his head if she had to wear +the black wretch out to do it. She added that she was about tired +of his nonsense.</p> +<p>It may be known that I have heretofore lost no opportunity to +foist all faults of understanding upon the heads of my +fellow-townsmen. And I should have liked to keep my record clear in +that matter; but it would be uncandid to pretend, even at this late +day, that I have ever divined the precise relationship that exists +between Miss Caroline and her slave. I may know a bit more of its +intricacies than does Little Arcady at large, but not enough to +permit that certain thrill of superior discernment which I have so +often been able to enjoy in Slocum County.</p> +<p>Each of the two, considered alone, is fairly comprehensible. But +taken together, there is something between them which must always +baffle me—something which I cannot believe to have been at +all typical of the relation between owner and slave, else many of +the facts noted by our discerning and impartial investigators were +either imperfectly observed or unintelligently reported.</p> +<p>Up to a certain point my own studies of this slave-holder +aligned perfectly with the information which we of the North had +been at such pains to gather. And I tried to hold Miss Caroline +blameless, remembering that she had been long schooled to the +inhumanity of it.</p> +<p>I resolved, nevertheless, to take Clem under my own +roof—there was a small unused room almost directly under +it—the moment Miss Caroline's impatience with him should move +her to the extremes foretold by her abusive fashion of speech. I +would not see even a negro turned out in the coldest of winters for +no better reason than that he was sick and useless, though I +planned to intervene delicately, so as not to affront my neighbor. +For my heart was still hers, despite this hardness, for which I saw +that she must not be blamed.</p> +<p>As I had feared, Clem's cough became more obtrusive, and with +this Miss Caroline's irritation deepened toward him. She declared +that his trifling, no-account nature made him all but +impossible.</p> +<p>Then one morning—one to be distinguished by its cold even +among many unusual mornings—there was no Clem to light my +fires and to scent my snug dining room with unparalleled coffee. +This brought it definitely home to me that the situation had become +grave. I dressed with what speed I could and hurried to Miss +Caroline's door. The time had come when I should probably have to +do something.</p> +<p>My neighbor met me and said that Clem had meanly decided to +remain in bed for the day. I searched her face for some sign of +consideration as she said this, but I was disappointed. She seemed +to feel only a fierce disgust for his foolishness.</p> +<p>"But you may go up and look at the black good-for-nothing if you +like," she said, grudgingly enough I thought.</p> +<p>I climbed the brief flight of stairs. I knew that Clem had not +refused to get up without reasons that seemed sufficient to him. In +a narrow bed in one of the doll-house rooms he lay coughing.</p> +<p>"So you can't get up this morning?" I asked.</p> +<p>"Yes, seh, Mahstah Majah, Ah <i>was</i> a-gittin' up, but Ah was +fohced to cough raght smahtly an' Miss Cahline she yehs it an' she +awdeh me back to baid, seh. Then Ah calls out to huh that Ah ain't +go'n' a' have no sech foolishness in this yeh place, an' so she +stahts to come up, which fohces me to retiah huhiedly. Then she +stands theh at th' head of th' staihs an' she faulted me—yes, +seh—she <i>threaten</i> me, Mahstah Majah, an' she tek mah +clothes away, an' so on an' so fothe. Then Ah huhd huh a' mekin' +th' fiah an' then she brung this yeh cawfee an' she done mek it +that foolish that Ah can't tech it. Yes, seh, she plumb ruined that +theh cawfee, <i>that's</i> what she done!"</p> +<p>His tone was peevish. Clem himself was not talking as I thought +would have been becoming in him. And there was a definite issue of +veracity between him and his mistress. I went down again, for the +room was cold.</p> +<p>"He has some fever," I said.</p> +<p>"He is a lazy black hound," said Miss Caroline.</p> +<p>"He says you ordered him to stay in bed—threatened him and +hid his clothes."</p> +<p>"Oh, never fear but what that fellow will always have an +excuse!" she retorted shortly.</p> +<p>Observing that she had a day's supply of wood at hand, I left, +not a little annoyed at both of them. I missed my coffee.</p> +<p>When I knocked at the door that evening, no one came to admit +me. I went in, hearing Clem's voice in truculent protest from a +large room on the first floor which had been called the room of +Little Miss. I went to the door of this room.</p> +<p>Clem and his bed were there. We had two physicians in Little +Arcady, Old Doc and Young Doc. Young Doc was now present measuring +powders into little papers which he folded neatly, while Miss +Caroline stood at hand, cowering but stubborn under Clem's +violence.</p> +<p>"Miss Cahline, yo' suttinly old enough t' know betteh'n that. Ah +do wish yo' Paw was about th' house—he maghty quickly put +yo'-all in yo' place. Now Ah tole yo' Ah ain't go'n' a' have none +o' this yeh Doctah foolishness. Yo' not go'n' a' stravagate all +that theh gole money on sech crazy doin's an' mek us be indigent in +ouah ole aige. What Ah <i>want</i> with a Doctah? Hanh! Anseh me +that! Yo'-all jes' git me a little bit calamus an' some catnip, an' +Ah do all th' doctahin' tha's advisable." All this he brought out +with difficulty, for his breathing was by no means free.</p> +<p>"He's up to his tricks," said Miss Caroline, contemptuously, to +me. Then, to Clem, seeming to draw courage from my presence, "You +be quiet, there, you lazy, black good-for-nothing, or I'll get some +one here to wear you out!" And Clem was again the vanquished.</p> +<p>"Pneumonia," said Young Doc. "Bad," he added as we stepped into +the drawing-room. "Take lots of care."</p> +<p>I thought it as well that Young Doc had come. Old Doc, though +well liked, boasted that all any man of his profession needed, +really, were calomel and a good knife. Young Doc had always seemed +to be subtler. Anyway, he was of a later generation. I learned that +Old Doc had scorned to make the call, believing that a "nigger" +could not suffer from anything but yellow fever or cracked shins. +For this reason he became genuinely interested in Clem's case as it +was later reported to him by Young Doc.</p> +<p>To the rest of Little Arcady the case was also of interest. +Sympathy had heretofore been with Clem, because Miss Caroline paid +him no wages, and was believed to take what he earned from other +people.</p> +<p>Now, however, an important number of persons veered—in +wonder if not in absolute sympathy. That the woman should watch and +nurse the black fellow, apparently with perfect single-heartedness, +was not to be squared with any known laws of human association. +"Nursing a nigger in her own house with her own hands," was the +fashion of describing this untoward spectacle. It was like taking a +sick horse into your house, and making play that it was human. The +already puzzled town was further mystified, and it is probable that +Miss Caroline fell a little in public esteem. Her course was not +thought to be edifying. She could have sent Clem to the county poor +farm, where he would have been seen to, after a fashion good enough +for one of his color, by the proper authorities.</p> +<p>My own bewilderment was at first hardly less than the town's. +Had Miss Caroline suddenly changed her manner toward Clem, showing +regret, however belated, for her previous abuse of him, I should +have understood. That would have been a simple case of awakened +sensibility. But she continued to disparage him to his face and to +me. She was venomous—scurrilous in her abuse. Yet only with +the greatest difficulty could I persuade her to let me share the +watch that must be kept over him. She called him an infamous black +wretch, in tones befitting her words, but I could not get her to +leave him even so long as her own health demanded.</p> +<p>There came nights, however, as the disease ran its course, when +she had to give up from sheer lack of force. Then she permitted me +to watch, though even at these times she often broke from sleep to +come and be assured that the worthless black hound had not changed +for the worse.</p> +<p>One dim, early morning, when she thought I had gone, after my +night's watch, I returned softly to the half-opened door with a +forgotten injunction about the medicines. All night Clem had +babbled languidly of many things, of "a hunded thousan' hatchin' +aigs," and "a thousan' brillion dollahs," of "Mahstah Jere" and +"Little Miss," of a visiting Cousin Peavey whom he had been obliged +to "whup" for his repeated misdemeanors; and darkly and often had +he whispered, so low I could scarcely hear it, of an enemy that was +entering the room with a fell design. "<i>Tha'</i> he is—he +go'n' a' sprinkle snake-dust in mah boots—tha' he +is—watch <i>out</i>!"</p> +<p>He still maundered weakly as I reached the door, but it was not +this that detained me at its threshold. It was Miss Caroline, who +had actually knelt at his side. At first I thought she wept over +one of his blue-black hands, which she clung eagerly to with both +her own. Then I saw that there seemed to be no tears—yet +silently, almost impassively, she gave me a sense of hopeless grief +that I thought no outburst of weeping could have done.</p> +<p>I wondered wildly then if her fashion of speech for Clem might +not mask some real affection for him. But this was unsatisfying. On +the spot I gave up all wondering forever about Miss Caroline. I +have ever since constrained myself to accept her without question, +even in situations of difficulty. There is so much vain +knowledge.</p> +<p>That day, too, was the bad day when news came that Little Miss +had been stricken with the same dread pneumonia. When she told me +this, Miss Caroline had a look in her eyes that I suspect must +often have been there in the first half of the sixties. It was calm +enough, but there was a resistance in it that promised to be +unbreakable. And to my never-ending wonder she seemed still to be +more concerned about Clem than about her daughter.</p> +<p>"Will you go to her?" I asked.</p> +<p>She smiled. "That could hardly be afforded just now."</p> +<p>"You could manage it, I think. Clem has some money due from +me."</p> +<p>"Even so, I couldn't leave Clem. My daughter will be cared for, +but Clem wouldn't have anybody. We'll fight it out on this line, +Major."</p> +<p>I now saw that continuous questioning about Miss Caroline would +bring one in time to madness, and I was glad of my resolve never +again to indulge in this unprofitable occupation.</p> +<p>But even pneumonia has its defeats. Young Doc surprised Old Doc +again; for the latter, once convinced that an African could suffer +so civilized an affliction as pneumonia, had declined to believe +that he could ever "throw it off," and had disclosed good reasons +why he could not to an attentive group at the City Drug Store.</p> +<p>Yet after a night when Miss Caroline had refused to let me +watch, she met me at the door as Young Doc was leaving. She was +wearied but chipper, though there was an unsteady little lift in +her voice as she said:—</p> +<p>"That lazy black wretch is going to get well!"</p> +<p>"It's about time," I said grimly. "I've been in a bad way +without him. Indeed I'm very glad to hear you say so."</p> +<p>Her eyes twinkled approval upon me, I thought.</p> +<p>"You've behaved excellently, Major. Really, I am glad that we +left you that other arm." This was almost in her old manner, though +her eyes seemed a little dimmed by her excitement. Then, with a +sudden return to the patient:—</p> +<p>"I wonder if you would be good enough to go in and swear at +Clem. He's perfectly rational now, and it will hearten him +wonderfully. He's dreadfully mortified because he's been sick so +long. And it needs a man, you know, really. I'll close the door for +you. Do it hard! Call him a damned black hound, if you please, and +ask him what he means by it!"</p> +<p>I hurried in, for Miss Caroline's eyes were threatening to +betray her.</p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CH20">CHAPTER XX</a></h2> +<center>IN WHICH SOMETHING MUST BE DONE</center> +<p>Clem's prolonged convalescence was a trial to his militant +spirit. The month or more of curious weakness in his body, always +before so stout, left him with a fear that he had been "pah'lyzed +in th' frame." Moreover, there were troubles less intimately +personal to him, but not less harassing to the household.</p> +<p>There was Little Miss, who was making a fight like Clem's own in +a Baltimore hospital. Each day I bore to Miss Caroline a telegram +detailing the progress of her daughter, though it had cost me time +and trouble to convince my correspondent that he was not to skimp +such encouragement as might be his to offer, merely to comprise it +within ten words. There were three days, it is true, when ten words +were more than enough in which to be non-committal. And there was a +day that came upon the heels of these when the profits of the +telegraph company must have been unusual, for only two words came +instead of ten—"Recovery doubtful." This might as well have +been left unsent, for I tore it up and assured the waiting pair +that no news was good news. They tried eagerly to believe this +aphorism, which has the authority of age, but which I suspect was +coined originally from despair.</p> +<p>The next day's bulletin read "Temperature still up, but making a +strong fight." Stupid it was, when these were but eight words, not +to have added two more, such as, "Very hopeful." I induced our +telegraph operator to rectify this oversight, and felt repaid for +my trouble when I showed the message. That last touch seemed to +have been needed. Of course Little Miss would make a strong fight. +Miss Caroline and Clem both knew that. But they had known other +strong fights to be none the less hopeless, and they were grateful +for those last two words of qualification.</p> +<p>There were four other days when the report seemed to need +judicious editing, and in this I did not prove remiss. As the +telegraph company remained indifferent, I could see that no harm +was done. For at last came a bulletin of seventeen words which left +us assured that Little Miss had conquered. Henceforth we could +receive the things without that stifling dread, that eager +fearfulness of the eyes to read all the words in one glance. +Leisurely could we learn that Little Miss was getting back her +strength, and Miss Caroline and I could laugh at Clem's fear that +she also would find herself "pah'lyzed in th' frame."</p> +<p>After that Miss Caroline and I were free to consider another +matter, weighty enough with pneumonia out of the running. This was +a matter of ways and means—of sheer, downright money.</p> +<p>When Clem, in the first days of his sickness, had warned Miss +Caroline that she would not be let to waste "all that gold money," +his lofty reference, as a matter of cold figures, was to a sum less +than nine dollars. I forget the precise amount, but that is near +enough—nine dollars, in round numbers. And the winter had +been an expensive one.</p> +<p>At the lowest time of doubt, when Miss Caroline had affairs of +extreme gravity to face, I had spoken to her incidentally of money +that I owed to Clem for services performed, and I had, in fact, +paid several instalments of the debt as money seemed to be +needed.</p> +<p>When Clem's recovery was assured and I urged Miss Caroline to go +to Little Miss, she asked me bluntly what sum I had owed Clem. I +felt obliged to confess that it was not more than two hundred +dollars.</p> +<p>This must have surprised Miss Caroline as much as it rejoiced +her, for she took up the matter with Clem, and in so clumsy a +fashion that he, perhaps owing to his enfeebled condition, +witlessly made a confession at variance with mine, and with an +effect of candor that moved his questioner to take his word rather +than that of an officer and a gentleman. Of course this was not at +all like Clem. In referring to sums of money due him he had ever +been wont to chant them with a bard-like inflation that recognized +only sums of a vague but immense rotundity. I had never known him +to be thus prosaic, and I suspected that Miss Caroline had, in a +sudden impulse of doubt, terrified him into being so brutally +explicit.</p> +<p>Whence fell a coldness between Miss Caroline and me, for the +discrepancy between Clem's confession and mine was not slight. Even +my mutterings about interest having accumulated were put down as +the desperate resource of embarrassment. Miss Caroline did not even +dignify them with her notice, and the coldness increased.</p> +<p>Yet, while it was a true coldness, it was distinguished by a +certain alien quality of warmth, for Miss Caroline, though now on +guard against any mere vulgar benevolence of mine, talked to me +frankly, as she had never done before, about her situation.</p> +<p>First, it was impossible to think of going to her daughter. +There were debts in the town; Clem would be unable to work for many +weeks; and not only had Little Miss's contribution from her small +wage now failed, but she herself had incurred debts and would be +without money to pay them.</p> +<p>My neighbor depicted the gravity of this situation with a spirit +that taxed my powers of admiration,—powers not slight, I may +explain; for had they not already been developed beyond the +ordinary by this same woman? Not even was she downcast in my +presence. In fine, she was superbly Miss Caroline to me. If I saw +that to herself she was an ill-fated old woman, perversely +surviving a wreck with which she should have gone down, alone in a +land that seemed unkind because it did not understand, and in +desperate straits for the commonest stuff in the world,—why, +that was no matter to be opened between us. We affected with mild +philosophy to study a situation that not only did not require study +but scarcely permitted it by candid souls. But we affected to agree +that something must be done, which sounded very well indeed.</p> +<p>As a sign that she bore me no malice it was promised that I +might hire a man to plant Clem's garden that spring, with the +understanding that I should thus acquire an equity in its product. +This seemed to be in the line of that something that must be done, +and Miss Caroline and I made much of it, to avoid the situation's +more embarrassing aspects.</p> +<p>"If I could only sell something," said my neighbor, with a +vacant look about the room—a look of humorous disparagement. +"The silver is good, but there's hardly enough of it to pay one of +those debts—and I've nothing else but Clem. But if I tried to +sell him," she added brightly, "it would only bring on trouble +again with your Northern President. I know just how it would +be."</p> +<p>We parted on this jest. Miss Caroline, I believe, went to be +scolded by Clem for her trifling ways, while I sought out Solon +Denney.</p> +<p>When something must be done, I seem never to know what it shall +be. I believe Solon is often quite as uncertain, but he will never +confess this, so that talk with him under such circumstances +stimulates if it does not sustain.</p> +<p>I put Miss Caroline's difficulties before him. As any common +catalogue of troubles will not provoke Solon from a happy unconcern +which is temperamental, I spared no details in my recital, and I +observed at length that my listener was truly aroused to the bad +way in which Miss Caroline found herself. He sat forward in his +chair, rested one elbow upon his untidy desk, and for several +moments of silence jabbed an inky pen rhythmically into the largest +rutabaga ever grown in Slocum County. At last he sat back and gazed +upon me distantly from inspired eyes. Then, with his characteristic +enthusiasm, he exclaimed:—</p> +<p>"Something will have to be done!"</p> +<p>"Wonderful!" I murmured. "Here I've worried over the thing for +two months, studied it in court, studied it in my office, studied +it in bed—and couldn't make a thing out of it. All at once I +am guided to a welling fount of wisdom, and the thing is solved in +a flash. Solon, you dazzle me! Denney forever!"</p> +<p>"Now, don't be funny, Calvin—I mean, don't try to +be—" but I arose to go.</p> +<p>"You've solved it, Solon. <i>Something must be done.</i> There's +the difference between intuition and mere clumsy ratiocination. In +another month I might have found this out for myself, but you +divine it instantly. You're a clairvoyant. Now I'm going to find +Billy Durgin. You've done the heavy work—you've discovered +that something must be done. What we need now, I suppose, is a +bright young detective to tell us what it is."</p> +<p>But Solon interrupted soothingly. "There, there, something must +be done, and, of course, I'll do it."</p> +<p>"What will you do?"</p> +<p>Even then I think he did not know.</p> +<p>"We must use common sense in these matters," he said, to gain +time, and narrowed his gaze for an interval of study. At last he +drove the pen viciously to its hilt in the rutabaga, and almost +shouted:—</p> +<p>"I'll go to see Mrs. Potts!"</p> +<p>Before I could again express my enthusiasm, reawakened by the +felicitous adequacy of this device, he had seized his hat and was +clattering noisily down the stairway.</p> +<p>Two hours later Solon bustled into my own office, whither I had +fled to forget his manifest incompetence. His hat was well back, +and he seemed to be inflated with secrecy. I remembered it was thus +he had impressed me just previous to the <i>coup</i> that had +relieved us of Potts. I knew at once that he was going to be +mysterious with me.</p> +<p>"I am not to say a word to any one," I began, merely to show him +that I was not dense.</p> +<p>He paused, apparently on the point of telling me as much. I saw +that I had read him aright.</p> +<p>"I am merely to be quiet and trust everything to you," I +continued.</p> +<p>"Oh, well,—if you—"</p> +<p>"One moment—let me take a few more words out of your +mouth. You are not certain, I am to remember, that anything will +come of it, but you think something will. You think you may say +<i>that</i> much. But I am again to remember not to talk about it. +There! That's it, isn't it?"</p> +<p>He was entirely serious.</p> +<p>"Well, that's <i>practically</i> it. But I don't mind hinting a +little, in strict confidence." He dropped into a chair, sitting +earnestly forward.</p> +<p>"You see, Cal, I remembered a little remark Mrs. Potts once +made. I believe it was the day after Mrs. Lansdale entertained the +ladies' club last summer—I remember she was complaining of a +headache—"</p> +<p>"I never knew Mrs. Potts to make a little remark," I said. I was +not to be trifled with. Solon grinned.</p> +<p>"Well, perhaps this one wasn't so very little, only I never +thought of it again until this morning. It was about Mrs. +Lansdale's furniture."</p> +<p>"Indeed," I said in cold disinterest, having designed to be told +more.</p> +<p>"Well, Mrs. Potts thinks there may be something in it."</p> +<p>His effort was to seem significant, but those things are apt to +fail with me.</p> +<p>"Oh, I see. Well, that's a good idea, Solon, but you and Mrs. +Potts are slow. Billy Durgin had the same idea last summer while +the furniture was being unloaded. He took a good look at some of +those old pieces, and he confided to me in strict secrecy that +there were probably missing wills and rolls of banknotes hidden +away in them. It seems that they're the kind that have secret +drawers. Billy knows a case where a man touched a spring and found +thirty thousand dollars in a secret drawer, 'and from there,' as +Billy says, 'he fled to Australia.' So you can see it's been +thought of. Of course I've never spoken of it, because I promised +Billy not to,—but there's nothing in it."</p> +<p>"Bosh!" said Solon.</p> +<p>"Of course it's bosh. I could have told Billy that, but some way +I always feel tender about his illusions. You may be sure I've +learned enough of the Lansdale family to know that no member of it +ever hid any real money—money that would +<i>spend</i>—and there hasn't been a will missing for at +least six generations."</p> +<p>"Bosh again!" said Solon. "It isn't secret drawers!"</p> +<p>"No? What then?"</p> +<p>"Well,—it's worse—and more of it."</p> +<p>"Is that all you have to say?" I asked as he stood up.</p> +<p>"Well, that's all I can say now. We must use common sense in +these matters. But—Mrs. Potts has written!" With this cryptic +utterance he stalked out.</p> +<p>There had been little need to caution me to secrecy. I was not +tempted to speak. Had I known any debtor of Miss Caroline's who +would have taken "Mrs. Potts has written" in payment of his +account, it might have been otherwise.</p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CH21">CHAPTER XXI</a></h2> +<center>LITTLE ARCADY IS GRIEVOUSLY SHAKEN</center> +<p>Mrs. Potts had written. I had Solon's word for it; but that +which followed the writing will not cease within this generation or +the next to be an affair of the most baffling mystery to our town +folk. Me, also, it amazed; though my emotion was chiefly concerned +with those gracious effects which the gods continued to manage from +that apparently meaningless sojourn of J. Rodney Potts among +us.</p> +<p>Superficially it was a thing of utter fortuity. Actually it was +a masterpiece of cunning calculation, a thing which clear-visioned +persons might see to bristle with intention on every side.</p> +<p>Years after that innocent encounter between an adventurous negro +and an amiable human derelict in the streets of a far +city,—those two atoms shaken into contact while the gods +affected to be engaged with weightier matters,—the cultured +widow of that derelict recalled the name of a gentleman in the East +who was accustomed to buy tall clocks and fiddle-backed chairs, in +her native New England, paying prices therefor to make one, in that +conservative locality, rich beyond the dreams of avarice, +almost.</p> +<p>Such was the cleverly devised circumstance that now intervened +between my neighbor and an indigence distressing to think about. It +was as if, in the game, a red four which one had neglected to "play +up" should actually permit victory after an intricate series of +disasters, by providing a temporary resting-place for a black trey, +otherwise fatally obstructive, causing the player to marvel afresh +at that last fateful but apparently chance shuffle.</p> +<p>A week after Mrs. Potts had written, the gentleman who received +her letter registered as "Hyman Cohen, New York, N.Y.," at the City +Hotel. From his manner of speech when he inquired for the Lansdale +home it was seen that he seemed to be a German.</p> +<p>When Miss Caroline received him a little later, he asked +abruptly about furniture, and she, in some astonishment, showed him +what she had, even to that crowded into dark rooms and out of +use.</p> +<p>He examined it carelessly and remarked that it was the worst lot +that he had ever seen.</p> +<p>This did not surprise Miss Caroline in the least, though she +thought the gentleman's candor exceptional. Little Arcady's +opinion, which she knew to tally with his, had always come to her +more circuitously.</p> +<p>The strange gentleman then asked Miss Caroline, not too +urbanely, if she had expected him to come all the way from New York +to look at such cheap stuff. Miss Caroline assured him quite +honestly that she had expected nothing of the sort, and intimated +that her regret for his coming surpassed his own, even if it must +remain more obscurely worded. She indicated that the interview was +at an end.</p> +<p>The strange gentleman arose also, but as Clem was about to close +the door after him, he offered Miss Caroline one hundred and fifty +dollars for "the lot," observing again that it was worthless stuff, +but that in "this business" a man had to take chances. Miss +Caroline declined to notice this, having found that there was +something in the gentleman's manner which she did not like, and he +went down the path revealing annoyance in the shrug of his +shoulders and the sidewise tilt of his head.</p> +<p>To Mrs. Lansdale's unaffected regret, and amazement as well, the +gentleman returned the following morning to say that he was about +to leave for New York, but that he would actually pay one hundred +and seventy-eight dollars for the stuff. This was at least +twenty-two dollars more than it could possibly be worth, but the +gentleman had an unfortunate passion for such things. Miss Caroline +bowed, and called Clem as she left the room.</p> +<p>The gentleman returned the morning of the third day to close the +deal. He said he had missed his train on the previous day, and +being a superstitious man he regarded that as an augury of evil. +Nevertheless he had resolved to take the stuff even at a price that +was ruinous. He unfolded two hundred dollars in the presence of +Clem, and wished to know if he might send a wagon at once. Clem +brought back word from Miss Caroline, who had declined to appear, +that the strange gentleman would oblige her by ceasing his +remarkable intrusions. Whereupon the gentleman had said: "Oh, very +<i>well</i>! Then I go!"</p> +<p>But he went no farther than the City Hotel; and here one may +note a further contrivance of indirection on the part of our +attending Fates.</p> +<p>From the evening train of that day the 'bus brought another +strange gentleman, of an Eastern manner, but somewhat neater of +dress than the first one and speaking with an accent much less +obtrusive. This gentleman wrote "James Walsingham Price, N.Y.," on +the register, called for a room with a bath, ordered "coffee and +rolls" to be sent there at eight-thirty the next morning, and then +asked to see the "dinner card."</p> +<p>After mine host, Jake Kilburn, had been made to understand what +"dinner card" meant, he made Mr. James Walsingham Price understand +that there was no dinner card. This being clear at last, the +newcomer said: "Oh, <i>very</i> well! Then just give my order to +the head-waiter, will you—there's a good chap—a cup of +consommé, a bit of fish, a bird of some sort, broiled, I +fancy,—er—potatoes <i>au gratin</i>, a green salad of +some kind,—serve that with the bird,—a piece of +Camembert, if it's in good condition, any <i>entremet</i> you have +and a <i>demi-tasse</i>. I'll mix the salad dressing myself, tell +him,—oh, yes—and a pint of Chambertin if you've +something you can recommend."</p> +<p>Billy Durgin, scrutinizing the newcomer in a professional way, +told me afterwards that Jake Kilburn "batted his eyes" during this +strange speech and replied to it, "like a man coming +to"—"supper in twenty minutes," after which he pounded a bell +furiously and then himself showed his new and puzzling guest to a +room—but not a room "with a bath," be it understood, for a +most excellent reason.</p> +<p>Billy Durgin was excited half an hour later by noting the +behavior of the first strange gentleman from the East as his eyes +fell upon this second. He threw both hands into the air, where they +engaged in rapid horizontal shakings from his pliant wrists, and in +hushed gutturals exclaimed, "My God, my God!" in his own fashion of +speech, which was reproduced admirably for me by my informant. +Billy was thus confirmed in his earlier belief that the first +strange gentleman was a house-breaker badly wanted somewhere, and +he now surmised that the newcomer must be a detective on his trail. +But a close watch on their meeting, a little later in the evening, +seemed to contradict this engaging hypothesis. The second stranger +emerged from the dining room, where he had been served with supper, +and as he shut the door of that banqueting hall, Billy, standing +by, heard him, too, call upon his Maker. He called only once, but +it was in a voice so full of feeling as to make Billy suspect that +he was remembering something unpleasant.</p> +<p>At this point the newcomer had glanced up to behold the first +strange gentleman, and Billy held his breath, expecting to witness +a sensational capture. To his unspeakable disgust the supposed +sleuth grinned affably at his supposed quarry and said: "Ah, Hyman! +Is the stuff any good?"</p> +<p>"How did you find it out?" asked the first strange +gentleman.</p> +<p>The other smiled winningly. "Why, I dropped into your place the +other day, and that beautiful daughter-in-law of yours mentioned +incidentally where you'd gone and what for. She's a good soul, +Hyman, bright, and as chatty as she can be."</p> +<p>"Ach! That Malke! She goes back right off to De Lancey Street, +where she belongs," said the first stranger, plainly irritated.</p> +<p>"How did you find the stuff, Hyman?"</p> +<p>"Have you et your supper yet?"</p> +<p>"Yes—'tisn't Kosher, is it? How did you find the +stuff?"</p> +<p>"No, it ain't Kosher—nothing ain't Kosher!"</p> +<p>"It's a devilish sight worse, though. How did you find the +stuff, Hyman?"</p> +<p>The one called Hyman here seemed to despair of putting off this +query.</p> +<p>"No good! No good!—not a decent piece in the lot! I pledge +you my word as a gentleman I wouldn't pay the freight on it to +Fourth Avenue!" Billy remarked that the gentleman said "pletch" for +pledge and "afanoo" for avenue.</p> +<p>The second stranger, hearing this, at once became strangely +cheerful and insisted upon shaking hands with the first one.</p> +<p>"Fine, Hyman, fine! I'm delighted to hear you say so. Your words +lift a load of doubt from my mind. It came to me in there just now +that I might be incurring that supper for nothing but my sins!"</p> +<p>"Have your choke," said Hyman, a little bitterly.</p> +<p>"I have, Hyman, I have had my 'choke'!" said James Walsingham +Price, with a glance of disrelish toward the dining room.</p> +<p>It seemed clear to Billy Durgin, who reported this interview to +me in a manner of able realism, that these men were both crooks of +the first water.</p> +<p>Billy at once polished his star and cleaned and oiled his new +32-caliber "bull-dog." The promise of work ahead for the right man +loomed more brightly than ever before in his exciting career.</p> +<p>While I discussed with Miss Caroline, that evening, the +unpleasant mystery of her late caller, there came a note from him +by messenger. He offered six hundred and twenty-one dollars for her +furniture, the sum being written in large letters, so that it had +the effect of being shouted from the page. He further expressed a +wish to close the deal within the half hour, as he must leave town +on the night train.</p> +<p>Had Miss Caroline been alone, she might have fallen. Even I was +staggered, but not beyond recovery. The messenger bore back, at my +suggestion, a refusal of the offer and a further refusal to +consider any more offers that evening. There was indicated a need +for calm daylight consideration, and a face-to-face meeting with +this variable Mr. Cohen.</p> +<p>"But he leaves on the night train," said Miss Caroline. "It may +be our last chance, and six hundred dollars is—"</p> +<p>"He only says he leaves," I responded. "And for three days, at +least, Mr. Cohen seems to have been grossly misinformed about his +own movements. Perhaps he's deceived himself again."</p> +<p>At eight o'clock the following morning Clem served my breakfast +for the first time since his illness, and I approached it with +thanksgiving for his recovery.</p> +<p>A knock at the door took him from me just as he had poured the +first cup of real coffee I had seen for nearly three months. He +came back with the card of one James Walsingham Price, whom I did +not know; whereas I did know the coffee.</p> +<p>"Fetch him here," I said. "He can't expect me to leave this +coffee, whoever he is."</p> +<p>Into my dining room was then ushered a tall, smartly dressed, +smooth-faced man of perhaps middle age, with yellowish hair +compactly plastered to his head. He became, I thought, suddenly +alert as he crossed my threshold. I arose to greet him.</p> +<p>"This is—" I had to glance at the card.</p> +<p>"Yes—and you're Major Blake? I regret to disturb you, +Major,"—here his glance rested blankly upon the rich +golden-brown surface of Clem's omelette, and it seemed to me that +the thread of his intention was broken for an instant by a fit of +absentmindedness. He resumed his speech only after an appreciable +pause, as if the omelette had reminded him of something.</p> +<p>"The hour is untimely, but I'm told that you're a friend of a +Mrs. Lansdale, who has some pieces of Colonial furniture she wishes +to let go. I wondered, you know, if you'd be good enough to +introduce me. I rather thought some such formality might be +advisable—I understand that a shark named Cohen has already +approached her."</p> +<p>Even as he spoke I recalled that Mr. Cohen's face, in profile, +might provoke the vision of a shark to a person of lively +imagination.</p> +<p>"I shall be glad," I said, "to present you to Mrs. +Lansdale."</p> +<p>Again had my caller's glance trailed across the breakfast table, +where the omelette, the muffins, and the coffee-urn waited. The +glance was politely unnoting, but in it there yet lurked, far back, +the unmistakable quality of a caress. In an instant I remembered, +and, with a pang of sympathy, I became his hungered brother.</p> +<p>"By the way, Mr. Price, are you staying at the City Hotel?"</p> +<p>"The man said it was the only place, you know."</p> +<p>"You had breakfast there this morning?" He bowed his assent +eloquently, I thought.</p> +<p>"Then by all means sit down and have breakfast."</p> +<p>"Oh, <i>really</i>, no—by <i>no</i> means—I assure +you I'd a capital breakfast—"</p> +<p>"Clem!"</p> +<p>Clem placed a chair, into which Mr. Price dropped without loss +of time, though protesting with polished vehemence against the +imposition.</p> +<p>His eyes shone, nevertheless, as Clem set a cup of coffee at his +elbow and brought a plate.</p> +<p>"May I ask when you arrived?" I questioned.</p> +<p>"Only last evening."</p> +<p>"Then you dined at the City Hotel?"</p> +<p>"Major Blake, I will be honest with you—I <i>did!</i>"</p> +<p>"Clem, another omelette, quick—but first fetch some +oranges, then put on a lot more of that Virginia ham and mix up +some waffles, too. Hurry along!"</p> +<p>"Really, you are very good, Major."</p> +<p>"Not that," I answered modestly; "I've merely eaten at the City +Hotel." But I doubt if he heard, for he lovingly inhaled the aroma +of his coffee with half-shut eyes.</p> +<p>"I am delighted to have met you," he said. "If ever you come to +New York—" He tore himself from the omelette long enough to +scribble the name of a club on the card by my plate.</p> +<p>"I rarely crave more than coffee and a roll in the morning," he +continued, after the second omelette, the ham, the waffles, and +more coffee had been consumed. "I fancy it's your bracing air."</p> +<p>I fancied it was only the City Hotel, but I did not revert to +that.</p> +<p>When at last Mr. Price lighted a cigar which I had procured at +an immense distance from Slocum County, he spoke of furniture, also +of Cohen.</p> +<p>Beheld through the romantic mist of after-breakfast, Cohen was, +perhaps, not wholly a shark; at least not more than any dealer in +old furniture. Really, they were almost forced to be sharks. It was +not in the nature of the business that they should lead honest +lives. Mere collectors—of which class my guest was—were +bad enough. Still, if you could catch a collector in one of his +human moments—</p> +<p>He blew forth the smoke of my cigar with a relish so poignant +that I suspected he had already tried one of Jake Kilburn's best, +the kind concerning which Jake feels it considerate to warn +purchasers that they are "five cents, straight" and <i>not</i> six +for a quarter. I saw that if the collector before me were subject +to human moments, he must be suffering one now. So, while he +smoked, I told him freely of Miss Caroline, of her furniture and +her plight.</p> +<p>He commended the tale.</p> +<p>"One of the best I ever heard," he declared. "Only, if you'll +pardon me, it sounds too good to be true. It sounds, indeed, like a +'plant,'—fine old Southern family, impoverished by +war—faithful body-servant—old Colonial mansion +despoiled of its heirlooms—rare opportunities for the +collector. Really, Major, you should see some of the stuff that was +landed on me when I began, years ago, with a story almost as good. +Reproductions, every piece of it, with as fine an imitation of +worm-eaten backs as you could ever wish to see."</p> +<p>I had never wished to see any worm-eaten backs whatever, but I +sought to betray regret that I had not encountered this surpassing +lot of them.</p> +<p>"Of course," he continued, "you will understand that I am +speaking now as a hardened collector, whose life is beset with +pitfalls and with gins—not as a starved wretch to the saver +of his life."</p> +<p>"You shall see the stuff," I said.</p> +<p>"Oh, by all means, and the quicker the better. Cohen is waiting +at the hotel for me now—at the foot of the front stairway, +and he may suspect any minute that I was mean enough to slink down +the back stairs and out through an alley. In fact, I'm rather +excited at the prospect of seeing that furniture—Cohen +condemned it so bitterly."</p> +<p>"He sent an offer of six hundred dollars for it last night," I +said. Hereupon my guest became truly excited.</p> +<p>"He <i>did</i>—six hundred—<i>Cohen</i> did? I don't +wish to be rude, old chap, but would you mind hastening? That is +more eloquent than all your story."</p> +<p>For half an hour, notwithstanding his eagerness, Mr. James +Walsingham Price succumbed to the manner of Miss Caroline. Noting +the lack of compunction with which she played upon him before my +very eyes, I divined that the late Colonel Lansdale had not found +the need of pistols entirely done away with even by the sacrament +of marriage.</p> +<p>Not until Clem announced "Mr. Cohen" did the self-confessed +collector cease to be a man.</p> +<p>"Not at home," said Miss Caroline, crisply. Price grinned with +appreciation and fell to examining the furniture in strange +ways.</p> +<p>It was a busy day for him, but I could see that he found it +enjoyable, and strangely was it borne in upon me that Miss +Caroline's ancient stuff was in some sense desirable.</p> +<p>More than once did Price permit some sign of emotion to be read +in his face—as when the sixth chair of a certain set was at +last found supporting a water-pail in the kitchen. The house was +not large, but it was crowded, and Price was frankly surprised at +the number of things it held.</p> +<p>At six o'clock he went to dine with me, Miss Caroline having +told him that I was authorized to act for her on any proposal he +might have to make.</p> +<p>"You have saved me again," he said warmly, in the midst of +Clem's dinner. "I assure you, Major, that hotel is infamous. I'm +surprised, you know, that something isn't done about it by the +authorities."</p> +<p>I had to confess that the City Hotel was very highly regarded by +most of our citizens.</p> +<p>Again, after a brief interval of stupefaction, did James +Walsingham Price call upon his Maker. "And yet," he murmured, "we +are spending millions annually to impose mere theology upon savages +far less benighted. Think for a moment what a tithe of that money +would do for these poor people. Take the matter of green salads +alone—to say nothing of soups—don't you have so simple +a thing as lettuce here?"</p> +<p>"We do," I said, "but it's regarded as a trifle. They put +vinegar and sugar on it and cut it up with their knives."</p> +<p>My guest shuddered.</p> +<p>"I dare say it's hopeless, but I shall always be glad to +remember that <i>you</i> exist away from your City Hotel."</p> +<p>Thus did we reach the coffee and some cognac which the late L.Q. +Peavey had gifted me with by the hands of his estimable +kinswoman.</p> +<p>"And now to business," said my guest. His whimsical gray eyes +had become studious and detached from our surroundings. He had a +generous mouth, which he seemed habitually to sew up in a +close-drawn seam, but this would suddenly and pleasantly rip in +moments of forgetfulness. Being the collector at this moment, the +mouth was tightly stitched.</p> +<p>"Let me begin this way," he said. "There are exactly six pieces +in that house that will prevent my being honest so long as they are +not mine. I am not unmindful of your succor, Major. I'll prove that +to you if you look me up in town,—send me a wire and a room +shall be waiting for you,—and I am enraptured by that small +and lively brown lady. Nevertheless I shall remain a collector and, +humanly speaking, an ingrate, a wolf, a caitiff, until those six +articles are mine. Make them mine, and for the remainder of that +stuff you shall have the benefit of an experience that has been of +incredible cost. Accept my figure, and I promise you as man to man +to de-Cohenize myself utterly."</p> +<p>"They are yours," I said—"what are they and what is the +figure? Clem—Mr. Price's glass."</p> +<p>"There—you disarm me. One bit of haggling or hesitation +might have hardened me even now; the serpent within me would have +lifted its head and struck. But you have saved yourself—and +very well for that! The articles are those six ball-and-claw-foot +chairs with violin backs. I will pay fifty dollars apiece for +those. Remember—it is the voice of Cohen. The chairs are +worth more—some day they'll fetch twice that; but, really, I +must throw a sop to that collector-Cerberus within me. He's +entitled to something. He had the wit to fetch me here."</p> +<p>"The chairs are yours," I said, wondering if I had not mistaken +his offer, but determining not to betray this.</p> +<p>"A little memorandum of sale, if you please—and I'll give +you my check. That larger sideboard would also have stood in the +way, but those glass handles aren't the originals."</p> +<p>The formality was soon despatched, and my curious friend became +truly human.</p> +<p>"Now, Blake, this is from the grateful wretch whose life you +have not only saved but enriched. Well, there's an excellent lot of +stuff there. I've got the pick, from a collector's +standpoint—though not from a money valuation. I can't tell +what it will bring, but enough to put our youngish old friend easy +for some time to come. You box it up, as much as she wants to let +go, and send it to the Empire Auction Rooms—here's the card. +They're plain auction-room people, you understand,—wouldn't +hesitate to rob you in a genteel, auction way,—but I'll be +there and see that they don't. Some of those other pieces I may +want, but I'll take a bidding chance on them like a man, and I'll +watch the whole thing through and see that it's straight."</p> +<p>Billy Durgin told me that Cohen and James Walsingham Price left +on the night train going East. Billy noticed that Cohen seemed +morose, and heard him exclaim something that sounded like "Goniff!" +under his breath, as Price turned away from him after a brief +chat.</p> +<p>For Little Arcady the appalling wonder was still to dawn. Load +after load of the despised furniture went into freight-cars, until +the home of Miss Caroline was only comfortably furnished. This was +sensational enough—that the things should be thought worth +shipping about the country with freights so high.</p> +<p>But after a few weeks came tales that atrophied +belief—tales corroborated by a printed catalogue and by +certain deposits of money in our bank to the account of Miss +Caroline. That six wretched chairs, plain to ugliness, had sold for +three hundred dollars spread consternation. The plain old sideboard +for a hundred and ten dollars only fed the flames. But there had +been sold what the catalogue described as "A Colonial sofa with +carved dolphin arms, winged claw feet, and carved back" for two +hundred and ten dollars, and after that the emotions aroused in +Little Arcady were difficult to classify. Upon that very sofa most +of the ladies of Little Arcady had sat to pity Miss Caroline for +being "lumbered" with it. Again, a "Colonial highboy, hooded," +recalled as an especially awkward thing, and "five mahogany side +chairs" had gone for three hundred and eighty dollars. A +"Heppelwhite mahogany armchair," remembered for its faded red +satin, had veritably brought one hundred and sixty dollars; and a +carved rosewood screen, said to be of Empire design, but a shabby +thing, had sold astonishingly for ninety dollars. A "Hogarth +chair-back settee" for two hundred and ten dollars, and "four +Hogarth side chairs" for three hundred and fifteen dollars only +darkened our visions still further. Some of us had known that +Hogarth was an artist, but not that he had found time from his +drawing to make furniture. Of Heppelwhite we had heard not at all, +although twelve arm-chairs said to be his had been by some one +thought to be worth around seven hundred dollars. Nor of any +Sheraton did we know, though one of his sideboards and a "pair of +Sheraton knife urns" fetched the incredible sum of five hundred and +fifty dollars. Chippendale was another name unfamiliar in Slocum +County, but Chippendale, it seemed, had once made a wing book-case +which was now worth two hundred and forty dollars of some +enthusiast's money. After that a Chippendale settee for a hundred +and forty dollars and an "Empire table with 1830 base" for +ninety-three dollars seemed the merest trifles of this insane +outbreak.</p> +<p>The amount netted by the late owner of these things was reported +with various exaggerations, which I never saw any good reason to +correct. As I have said, the thing was, and promises to remain +forever in Little Arcady, a phenomenon to be explained by no known +natural laws. For a long time our ladies were too aghast even to +marvel at it intelligibly. When Aunt Delia McCormick in my hearing +said, "Well, now, what a world this is!" and Mrs. Westley Keyts +answered, "That's very <i>true!</i>" I knew they referred to the +Lansdale furniture. It was typical of the prevailing +stupefaction.</p> +<p>"It seems that a collector <i>may</i> be a gentleman," said Miss +Caroline, "but Mr. Cohen wasn't even a collector!"</p> +<p>Then I told her the considerable sum now to her credit. She drew +a long breath and said, "<i>Now!</i>" and Clem, who stood by, +almost cried, "<i>Now</i>, Little Miss!"</p> + + + + +<p class="figure"><img width="50%" src="images/illp281.png" alt= +"THE BOOK OF LITTLE MISS." /></p> +<center><h4>"THE BOOK OF LITTLE MISS."</h4></center> + + + + +<h2><a name="CH22">CHAPTER XXII</a></h2> +<center>THE TIME OF DREAMS</center> +<p>I had Clem to myself for a time. Little Miss, it seemed, was not +yet rugged enough for travel into the far Little Country. Nor was +she at once to be convinced that she might safely leave her work. I +suspect that she had found cause in the past to rank her mother +with Clem as a weigher and disburser of moneys. I noticed that she +chose to accept Miss Caroline's earliest letters about their good +fortune with a sort of half-tolerant attention, as an elder listens +to the wonder-tales of an imaginative child, or as I had long +listened to Clem's own dreamy-eyed recital of the profits already +his from "brillions" of chickens not yet come even to the egg-stage +of their careers.</p> +<p>Not until Miss Caroline had ceased from large and beauteous +phrases about "the great good fortune that has befallen us in the +strangest manner"—not until she descended to actual, +dumfounding figures with powerful little dollar-marks back of them, +did her daughter seem to permit herself the sweet alarms of hope. +Even in that moment she did not forget that she knew her own +mother, for she took the precaution to elicit a confirmatory letter +from her mother's attorney, under guise of thanking him for the +friendly interest he had "ever manifested" in the welfare of the +Lansdales.</p> +<p>It occurred to me that Little Miss had been endowed, either by +nature or experience, with a marked distrust of mere seemings. The +impression conveyed to me by her unenthusiastic though skilfully +polite letter was of one who had formed the habit of doubting +beyond her years. These I judged to be twenty-eight or thereabouts, +while her powers of restraint under provocation to believe savored +of more years than even her mother could claim. I had myself been +compelled to note the value of negative views, save in that inner +and lonely world where I abode of nights and Sundays; I, too, had +proved the wisdom of much doubting as to actual, literal events; +but Little Miss was making me think of myself as almost +raw-and-twenty credulous. In a lawyer's letter of formal +conciseness, devoid of humanities, maintaining to the end an +atmosphere of unemotional fact and figure that descended not even +to conventional felicitations upon the result, I therefore +acquainted Little Miss with the situation. So nearly perfect was +this letter that it caused her to refer to me, in a later +communication to Miss Caroline, as "your dry-and-dusty +counting-machine of a lawyer, who doubtless considers the +multiplication table as a cycle of sonnets." That, after I had +merely determined to meet her palpable needs and had signed myself +her obedient servant!</p> +<p>But I had convinced her. She admitted as much in words almost +joyous, so that Miss Caroline went to be with her—to fetch +her when she should be strong enough for the adventure of +travel.</p> +<p>There were three weeks of my neighbor's absence—three +weeks in which Clem "cleaned house", polished the battered silver, +"neated" the rooms, and tried to arrange the remaining furniture so +that it would look like a great deal of furniture indeed; three +weeks in which Little Arcady again decked itself with June garlands +and seemed not, at first glance, to belie its rather pretentious +name; three weeks when I studied a calendar which impassively +averred that I was thirty-five, a mirror which added weight to that +testimony, and the game which taught me with some freshness at each +failure that the greater game it symbolizes is not meant to be +won—only to be played forever with as eager a zest, as daring +a hope, as if victory were sure.</p> +<p>The season at hand found me in sore need of this teaching. It +was then that errant impulse counselled rebellion against the +decrees of calendar and looking-glass. If vatted wine in dark +cellars turns in its bed and mutters seethingly at this time, in a +mysterious, intuitive sympathy with the blossoming grape, a man +free and above ground, with eyes to behold that miracle, may hardly +hope to escape an answering thrill to its call.</p> +<p>Wherefore I played the game diligently, torn by the need of its +higher lessons. And at last I was well instructed by it, as all may +be who approach it thus, above a trivial lust for winning.</p> +<p>Two of us played in that provocative June. One was myself, alert +for auspicious falls of the cards, yet stoical and undepressed when +a deal promising to be almost too easy for interest was suddenly +blocked by some trifling card. Thus was I schooled to expectations +of a wise shallowness, not so deep but that they might be overrun +by the moderate flow of human happiness. Thus one learned to expect +little under much wanting, and to find his most certain profit in +observing the freshness of those devices which left him frustrated. +Jim, the other player of us, chased gluttonous robins on the lawn, +ever with an indifferent success, but with as undimmed a faith, as +fatuous a certainty, as the earliest of gods could have wished to +see. And between us we achieved a conviction that the greater game +is worth playing, even when one has discovered its terrific +percentage of failures.</p> +<p>I was not unpleased to be alone during this period of discipline +when my soul was perforce purged of its troublesome ferments. It +was well that my neighbor should have gone where she might distract +me never so little.</p> +<p>For it was at the season when Nature brews the irresistible +philter. Always, I resolved to forego it like a man; always, like a +man, I was overborne by the ancient longing, the formless "heimweh" +that haunts the hearts of the unmated, and which in my own case +made short work of stoic resolutions. And, since the game had +taught me that yielding—where opposition is fated to avail +not—is graceful in proportion to its readiness, I surrendered +as quietly as might be.</p> +<p>One woman face had been wholly mine for hidden cherishing +through all the years. A woman face, be it understood, not the face +of a woman. At first it had been that; but with the years it had +lost the lines that made it but that one. Imperceptibly, it had +taken on an alien, vague softness that but increased its charm +while diminishing its power to hurt.</p> +<p>It brought me now only a pensive pleasure and no feeling more +acute. It was my ashes of roses, the music of my first love, its +poignancies softened by time and memory into an ineffable, faint +melody; it was the moon that drenched my bygone youth with +wonder-light—a dream-face, exquisite as running water, +unfolding flowers and those other sweets that poets try in vain to +entangle in the meshes of word and rhythm.</p> +<p>This was the face my fancy brought to go with me into every June +garden of familiar surprises. All of which meant that I was a poor +thing of clay and many dolors, who still perversely made himself +believe that somewhere between him and God was the one woman, +breathing and conscious, perhaps even longing. More plainly, it +meant that I was a man whose gift for self-fooling promised ably to +survive his hair. Gravitation would presently pull down my +shoulders, my face would flaunt "the wrinkled spoils of age", my +voice would waver ominously, and I should forfeit the dignities +befitting even this decay by still playing childish games of belief +with some foolish dog. I would be a village "character" of the sort +that is justly said to "dodder." And the judicious would shun +observation by me, or, if it befell them, would affect an intense +preoccupation lest I halt and dodder to them of a past +unromantically barren.</p> +<p>There were moments in which I made no doubt of all this. But I +fought them off as foolishly as did Jim his own intervals of clear +seeing. Sometimes in a half doze he breathes a long, almost human +sigh of perfect and despairing comprehension, as if the whole dead +weight of his race's history flashed upon him; as if the woful +failure of his species to achieve anything worth while, and the +daily futilities of himself as an individual dog were suddenly +revealed. In such instants he knows, perhaps, that there is little +reward in being a dog, unless you cheat yourself by believing more +than the facts warrant. But presently he is up to dash at a bird, +with a fine forgetfulness, quite as startled by the trick of flight +as in his first days. And I, envying him his gift of credulity, +weakly strive for it.</p> +<p>As I have said, I had noted that in these free dreamings of mine +the painted face above my neighbor's mantel seemed to have had a +place long before I looked upon its actual lines. This perplexed me +not a little; that the face should seem to have been familiar +before I had seen it—the portrait, that it should have +blended with and then almost replaced another's, so that now the +woman face I saw was eloquent of two, though fittingly harmonized +in itself. Must I lay to the philter's magic this audacious notion; +that the face of Little Miss had tangibly come to me in some night +of the mind? Sober, I was loath to commit this absurdity; but +breasting drunkenly that tide of dreams, it ceased to be +absurd.</p> +<p>And so I had plunged into the current again one early evening +when the growing things seemed to have stopped reluctantly for +rest, when the robins had fluted of their household duties the last +time for the day, and when only the songs of children at a game +were brought to me from a neighboring yard.</p> +<p>Unconsciously my thoughts fell into the rhythm of this song, +with the result that I presently listened to catch its +words—faint, childish, laughing, yet musical in the scented +dusk:—</p> +<blockquote> +<p>"King William was King James's son and from the royal race he +sprung;<br /> +Upon his breast he wore a star that showed the royal points of +war.<br /> +Go choose your east and choose your west, and choose the one that +you love best.<br /> +If she's not here to take your part, go choose another with all +your heart.<br /> +Down on this carpet you must kneel, low as the grass grows in yon +field.<br /> +Salute your bride and kiss her sweet, and then arise upon your +feet."</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The sentiment was ill suited to my own at the moment, but the +raw-voiced little singers appealed to my ears not unpleasantly. +Again the verse came—</p> +<blockquote> +<p>"If she's not here to take your part—go choose another +with all your heart!"</p> +</blockquote> +<p>I heard wheels then, nearer than the singing,—the clumsy +rumble of our big yellow 'bus. Voices were borne to +me,—Clem's voice, Miss Caroline's and another not like her's, +a voice firmer, yet a dusky-warm woman's voice. That was all I +could think of at the time: perhaps the night suggested it; they +had qualities in common. It was a woman's voice, but a determined +woman's. I knew of course that Little Miss had come. But also I +knew at once—this being her voice—that it would not be +in my power to call her Little Miss.</p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CH23">CHAPTER XXIII</a></h2> +<center>THE STRAIN OF PEAVEY</center> +<p>It was too true that I could not call her "Little Miss," as I +had lightly called her mother "Miss Caroline" at our first +encounter. Of a dusky pallor was Miss Lansdale when I first beheld +her under the night of her hair. As the waning light showed me her, +I thought of a blossomed young sloe tree in her own far valley of +the Old Dominion. Closer to her I could note only that she was dark +but fair, for observations of this character became, for some +reason, impracticable in her immediate presence.</p> +<p>She greeted me kindly, as her mother's lawyer; she was cordial +to me a moment, as her mother's friend; but later, when these debts +of civility had been duly paid, when we had gone from the outer +dusk into candle light, she favored me only with occasional glances +of the mildest curiosity, in which was neither kindness nor +cordiality. Not that these had given way to their opposites; they +were simply not there. Not the faintest hint of unfriendliness +could I detect. Miss Lansdale had merely detached herself into a +magnificent void of disinterest, from the centre of which she +surveyed me without prejudice in moments when her glance could not +be better occupied.</p> +<p>I have caught much the same look in the eyes of twelve bored +jurymen who were, nevertheless, bound to give my remarks their +impartial attention. Sometimes one may know from the look of these +twelve that one's case is already as good as lost; or, at least, +that an opinion has been reached which new and important testimony +will be required to change.</p> +<p>It occurred to me as my call wore on that I caught even a hint +of this prejudgment in the eyes of the young woman. It put me +sorely at a disadvantage, for I knew not what I was expected to +prove; knew not if I were on trial as her mother's lawyer, her +mother's friend, or as a mere man. The latter seemed improbable as +an offence, for was not my judge a daughter of Miss Caroline? And +yet, strangely enough, I came to think that this must be my +offence—that I was a man. She made me feel this in her +careless, incidental glances, her manner of turning briskly from me +to address her mother with a warmer show of interest than I had +been able to provoke.</p> +<p>It seemed, indeed, opportune to remember at the moment that, +while this alleged Little Miss was the daughter of Miss Caroline, +she was likewise—and even more palpably, as I could note by +fugitive swift glimpses of her face—the daughter of a +gentleman whose metal had been often tried; one who had won his +reputation as much by self-possession under difficulties as by the +militant spirit that incurred them.</p> +<p>"Kate has little of the Peavey in her,—she is every inch a +Lansdale," Miss Caroline found occasion to say; while I, thus +provided with an excuse to look, remarked to myself that her +inches, while not excessive, were unusually meritorious.</p> +<p>"Worse than that—she's a Jere Lansdale," was my response, +though I tactfully left it unuttered for an "Indeed?" that seemed +less emotional. I could voice my deeper conviction not more +explicitly than by saying further to Miss Caroline, "Perhaps that +explains why she has the effect of making her mother seem +positively immature."</p> +<p>"My mother <i>is</i> positively immature," remarked the +daughter, with the air of telling something she had found out long +since.</p> +<p>"Then perhaps the other is the false effect," I ventured. "It is +your mother's immaturity that makes you seem so—" I thought +it kind to hesitate for the word, but Miss Lansdale said, again +confidently:—</p> +<p>"Oh, but I really <i>am</i>," and this with a finality that +seemed to close the incident.</p> +<p>Her voice had the warm little roughness of a thrush's, which +sings through a throat that is loosely strung with wires of soft +gold.</p> +<p>"In <i>my</i> day," began Miss Caroline; but here I rebelled, no +longer perceiving any good reason to be overborne by her daughter. +I could endure only a certain amount of that.</p> +<p>"Your day is to-day," I interrupted, "and to-morrow and many +to-morrows. You are a woman bereft of all her yesterdays. Let your +daughter have had <i>her</i> day—let her have come to an +incredible maturity. But you stay here in to-day with me. We won't +be fit companions for her, but she shall not lack for company. +Uncle Jerry Honeycutt is now ninety-four, and he has a splendid new +ear-trumpet—he will be rarely diverting for Miss +Lansdale."</p> +<p>But the daughter remained as indifferent to taunts as she had +been to my friendly advances. It occurred to me now that her +self-possession was remarkable. It was little short of threatening +if one regarded her too closely. I wondered if this could really be +an inheritance from her well-nerved father or the result of her +years as teacher in a finishing school for young ladies. I was +tempted to suspect the latter, for, physically, the creature was by +no means formidable. Perhaps an inch or two taller than her mother, +she was of a marked slenderness; a <i>completed</i> slenderness, I +might say—a slenderness so palpably finished as to details +that I can only describe it as felicitous in the extreme. It seemed +almost certain that her appearance had once been disarming, that +the threat in her eye-flash and tilted head was a trick learned by +contact with many young ladies who needed finishing more than they +would admit.</p> +<p>Of course this did not explain why Miss Lansdale should visually +but patently disparage me at this moment. I was by no means an +unfinished young lady, and, in any event, she should have left all +that behind; the moment was one wherein relaxation would have been +not only graceful but entirely safe, for she was in no manner to be +held accountable for my conduct.</p> +<p>Yet again and again her curious reserve congealed me back upon +the stanch regard of Miss Caroline. My passion for that sprightly +dame and her gracious acceptance of it were happily not to +deteriorate under the regard of any possible daughter, however +egregiously might we flaunt to her trained eye our need to be +"finished."</p> +<p>The newcomer's reserve was indeed pregnable to no assault I +could devise. Not even did she lighten when I said to her mother, +in open mockery of that reserve, "Well, she cost you a lot of +furniture that was really most companionable about the house," and +paused with a sigh betokening a regretful comparison of values. +That lance shattered against her Lansdale shield like all the +others.</p> +<p>Ending my call, I felt vividly what I have elsewhere seen +described as "the cosmic chill". The small, mighty, night-eyed, +well-completed Miss Lansdale, with the voice of a golden jangle, +had frozen it about me in lavish abundance.</p> +<p>I went home to play the game, until my eyes tired so that the +face of king, queen, and knave leered at me in defeat or simpered +sickeningly when I was able to shape their destinies. Thrice I lost +interestingly and with profit to my soul, and once I won, though +without elation, for we know that little skill may be needed to win +when the cards fall right; whereas, to lose profitably is a mark of +supreme merit.</p> +<p>Even after that I must have recourse to the wonted philter to +bring sleep, the face of my vision being unaccountably the face of +the true Little Miss before she had evolved into Miss Lansdale of +the threatening self-possession. I refused to bother about the +absurdity of this, for the sake of bringing sleep the sooner.</p> +<p>I was privileged to observe the following day that my neighbor's +daughter was still of a dusky whiteness, the baffling, shaded +whiteness of soft new snow in a cedar thicket. Incidentally she +partook of another quality of soft new snow—one by no means +so incommunicable.</p> +<p>And yet in sunlight I incurred the full, close look of her eyes, +and no longer doubted the presence of a Peavey strain in her +immediate ancestry. Far in their incalculable depths I saw a myriad +of lights, brown-gold, that smouldered, ominously, even +promisingly. It might never meet this young woman's caprice to be +flagrantly a Peavey in my presence, but her capacity for this, if +she chose to exercise it, I detected beyond a doubt. She was +patently a daughter of Miss Caroline, and the cosmic chill had been +an afterthought of her own.</p> +<p>She did me the honor, late in the afternoon of this day, to +occupy an easy-chair within my vined porch. She went farther. She +affected a polite interest in myself. But her craft was crude. I +detected at once that she had fallen in love with my dog; that she +came not to seek me, but to follow him, who had raced joyously from +her at his first knowledge of my home-coming.</p> +<p>I was secretly proud of the exquisite thoroughness with which he +now ignored her. Again and again he assured me in her very presence +that the woman was nothing, <i>could</i> be nothing, to him. I knew +this well enough—I needed no protestations from him; but I +thought it was well that she should know it. I saw that he had +probably consented to receive her addresses through a long +afternoon, had perhaps eaten of her provender, and even behaved +with a complaisance which could have led her to hope that some day +she might be something to him. But I knew that he had not +persistently faced the peril of being trampled to death by me in +his pulpy infancy—so great his fear of our +separation—to let a mere woman come between us at this day. +And it was well that he should now tell her this in the plainest of +words.</p> +<p>The woman seemed to view me with an increased respect from that +very moment. She tried first to bring Jim to her side by a soft +call that almost made me tremble for his integrity. But he did not +so much as turn his head. His eyes were for me alone. With a rubber +shoe flung gallantly over his shoulder, he danced incitingly before +me, praying that I would pretend to be crazed by the sight of his +prize and seek to wrench it from him.</p> +<p>But I pretended instead to be bored by his importunities, +choosing to rub it in. To her who longed for his friendly +notice,—a little throaty bark, a lift of the paw, perhaps a +winsome laying of his head along her lap,—I affected +indifference to his infatuation for me. I pretended always to have +been a perfect devil of a fellow among the dogs, and professed +loftily not to have divined the secret of my innumerable and +unvarying conquests.</p> +<p>"Dogs are so foolishly faithful," remarked Miss Lansdale, with +polite acerbity.</p> +<p>"I know it," I conceded; "that fellow thinks I am the most +beautiful person in all the world."</p> +<p>She said "Indeed?" with an inflection and a sweeping glance at +me which I found charged with meaning. But I knew well enough that +I had for all time mastered a certain measure of her difficult +respect.</p> +<p>"And he's such a fine dog, too," she added in a tone intended to +convey to me the full extent of her pity for him.</p> +<p>"I have him remarkably well trained," I said. "I can often force +him to notice people whom I like, especially if they are clever +enough to let him see that they like me rather well."</p> +<p>"It would be almost worth while," she remarked with a longing +look at Jim but none at me.</p> +<p>"Many have found it quite so," I said, ordering Jim to charge at +my feet, "but it's a great bore, I assure you."</p> +<p>I needed not to be told that she envied me my power, and so deep +and genuine appeared to be her love for him that secretly I hoped +he would again be amiable to her during my absence on the morrow. +The contrast of his manner on my return would further chasten +her.</p> +<p>From the porch we both watched her move across the little +stretch of lawn, and, at my whispered suggestion, Jim rose to his +feet and barked her insultingly over the last twenty feet of it. I +was delighted to note that this induced a shamed acceleration of +her pace and a tighter clutching of her skirts. I thought it +important to let her know clearly and at once just who was the +master in my own house.</p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CH24">CHAPTER XXIV</a></h2> +<center>THE LOYALTY OF JIM</center> +<p>If it must be my lot to dream out a life of insubstantial +visions, that were well. But it appeared not unreasonable that I +should keep at least one ponderable dog by me, as an emblem of +something I had missed through one too many shuffle of the cards +before this big game began. Yet Miss Lansdale had clearly resolved +to deprive my dreaming of even this slight support of realness. I +tried always to remember, in her behalf, that she did not know the +circumstances, and she herself very soon discovered that she did +not know Jim. The assaults she made upon his fidelity proved her to +be past-mistress of tactics and strategy. No possible approach to +his heart did she leave untried. She flattered and petted, lured, +cajoled, entreated; she menaced, commanded, stormed, raged. Drawing +inspiration from a siege celebrated in antiquity, she sought to +secrete her forces—not in a horse of wood, but within the +frames of numerous fowl, picked to the bone but shredded over so +temptingly with fugitive succulence as to have made a dog of +feelings less fine her slave for life.</p> +<p>It was not until the desperate woman had, in the terminology of +Billy Durgin, been "baffled and beaten at every turn," that I could +get into communication with her on a basis at all acceptable to a +free-necked man. Having proved to the last resource of her +ingenuity that Jim was more than human in his loyalty, she seemed +disposed to admit, though grudgingly enough, that I myself might be +not less than human to have won him so utterly. And thereafter I +found it often practicable to associate with her on terms of +apparent equality.</p> +<p>She surrendered, I believe, on a day when she had thought to +lure Jim into her boat,—fatuously, for was I not a +distinguishable figure in the landscape? Her hopes must have been +high, for she had but lately repleted him with chicken-bones +divinely crunchable, and then bestowed upon him a charlotte russe, +an unnatural taste for which she had succeeded in teaching him.</p> +<p>With something of a swagger,—she swaggered in a rather +starchy white dress that day, and under a garden hat of broad +rim,—she had enticed him to the water's edge, so that I must +have been nervous but for knowing the dog through and through.</p> +<p>Her failure was so crushing, so swift, so entire, that for an +instant I almost failed to rejoice in her open humiliation. Seated +in the boat, oars poised, she invited Jim with soft speech and a +smile that might have moved an iron dog without occasioning any +remark from me; but Jim, noting, with one paw already in the boat, +that I was not to be of the party, turned quickly from her and came +to me with his head down. His informing and well-feathered tail +signalled to Miss Lansdale that she seemed to have forgotten +herself.</p> +<p>At that moment, I think, the woman abandoned all her +preposterous hopes; then, too, I think, she learned the last and +bitterest lesson which great fighters must learn, to embellish +defeat with an air of urbane acceptance. Miss Lansdale +relaxed—she melted before my eyes to an aspect that no victor +who knew his business could afford to despise.</p> +<p>I clambered in. Jim followed, remarking amiably to the woman as +he passed her on his way to the bow of the boat, "I <i>thought</i> +you couldn't have meant <i>that</i>!"</p> +<p>And Defeat rowed Jim and me; rowed us past the feathered marge +of green islands quite as if nothing had happened. But I knew it +<i>had</i> happened, for Miss Lansdale was so nearly human that I +presently found myself thinking "Miss Kate" of her. She not only +answered questions, but, what amazed me far more, she condescended +to ask them now and then. To an observer we might have seemed to be +holding speech of an actual friendliness—speech of the water +and the day; of herself and the dog and a little of me.</p> +<p>At length, as I caught an overhanging willow to rest her arms a +moment, I felt bold enough to venture words about this assumption +of amity which was so becoming in her. I even confessed that she +was reminding me of certain distinguished but truly amiable +personages who are commonly to be found in the side-show adjacent +to the main tent. "Particularly of the wild man," I said, to be +more specific, for my listener seemed at once to crave details.</p> +<p>"There is a powerfully painted banner swelling in the breeze +outside, you know. It shows the wild man in all his untamed +ferocity, in his native jungle, armed with a simple but rather +promising club. A dozen intrepid tars from a British +man-of-war—to be seen in the offing—are in the act of +casting a net over him. It's an exciting picture, I assure you, +Miss Lansdale. The net looks flimsy, and the wild person is not +only enraged but very muscular—"</p> +<p>"I fail to see," she interrupted, with a slight lapse into what +I may call her first, or Lansdale, manner.</p> +<p>"Of course you fail! You have to go inside to see," I explained +kindly. "But it only costs a dime, which is little enough—the +hired enthusiast, indeed, stationed just outside the entrance, +reminds us over and over again that it is only 'the tenth part of a +dollar,' and he sometimes adds that 'it will neither make nor break +nor set a man up in business.' He is a flagrant optimist in small +money matters, ever looking on the bright side."</p> +<p>"Inside?" suggested my listener, with some impatience. I had +regretted my beginning and had meant to shirk a finish if she would +let me; but it seemed I must go on.</p> +<p>"Well, inside there's a hand-organ going all the time, you +know—"</p> +<p>"The wild man?" she insisted, like a child looking ahead for the +real meat of the story one is telling it.</p> +<p>"I'm getting to him as fast as I consistently can. The wild man +sits tamely in a cheap chair on a platform, with a row of his +photographs spread charmingly at his feet. Of course you are +certain at once that he is no longer wild. You know that a wild man +whose spirit had not been utterly broken would never sit there and +listen to that hand-organ eight hours every day except Sunday. The +fluent and polished gentleman in charge—who has a dyed +mustache—assures us that we have nothing to fear from this +'once ferocious monster of the tropic jungle, with his bestial +craving for human flesh,' but that seems a mere matter of form, +with the hand-organ going in our ears—"</p> +<p>"Really," Miss Lansdale began—or tried to.</p> +<p>"One moment, please! The scholarly person goes on to relate the +circumstances of the wild person's capture—substantially as +depicted upon the canvas outside—and winds up with: 'After +being brought to this country in chains he was reclaimed from his +savage estate, was given a good English education, and can now +converse intelligently upon all the leading topics of the day. Step +up, ladies and gentlemen' he concludes, with a rather pointed +delicacy, 'and you will find him ready and willing to answer all +proper questions.'"</p> +<p>Miss Lansdale dropped her oars into the water, dully, I thought. +I released the willow that had moored us, but I persisted.</p> +<p>"And he always <i>does</i> answer all proper questions, just as +the gentleman said he would. Doubtless an improper question would +be to ask him if he weren't born tame on our own soil, of reputable +New England parents; but I don't know. I have always conducted +myself in his presence as a gentleman must, with the result that he +has never failed to be chatty. He is a trifle condescending, to be +sure; he does not forget the difference in our stations, but he +does not permit himself to study me with eyes of blank +indifference, nor is he reticent to the verge of hostility. Of +course he feels indifferent to me,—nothing else could be +expected,—but his captors have taught him to be gracious in +public. And, really, Miss Lansdale, you seemed strangely tame and +broken to-day yourself. You have not only received a good English +education, but you answer all proper questions with a condescension +hardly more marked than that of the wild person's. I can only pray +you won't resume a manner that will inevitably recall him to me to +your own disadvantage."</p> +<p>She rowed in silence against the gentle current, but she lifted +her eyes to me with a look that was not all Lansdale. There was +Peavey in it. And she smiled. I had seen her smile before, but +never before had she seen me at those times. That she should now +smile for and at me seemed to be a circumstance little short of +epoch-making.</p> +<p>I cannot affirm that there was even one moment of that curiously +short afternoon when she became wholly and frankly a Peavey. But +more than once did this felicity seem to impend, and I suspected +that she might even have been more graciously endowed than with a +mere Peavey capacity in general. I believed that if she chose, she +might almost become a Miss Caroline Peavey. This occurred to me +when she said:—</p> +<p>"I only brought you along for your dog."</p> +<p>It was, of course, quite like a Lansdale to do that; but much +liker a Peavey to tell it, with that brief poise of the opened eyes +upon one's own.</p> +<p>"Don't hold it against Jim," I pleaded. "It's my fault. I'm +obliged to be most careful about his associates. I've brought him +up on a system."</p> +<p>"Indeed? It would be interesting to know why you object—" +she bridled with a challenge almost Miss Caroline in its +flippancy.</p> +<p>"Well, for one thing, I have to make sure that he doesn't become +worldly. Lots of good dogs are spoiled that way. And I've succeeded +very well, thus far. To this moment he believes everything is true +that ought to be true; or, if not, that something 'just as good' is +true, as the people in drug stores tell one."</p> +<p>"And you are afraid of me—that I'll—"</p> +<p>"One can't be too careful about dogs, especially one that +believes as much as that one does. Frankly, I <i>am</i> afraid of +you. You have such a knowing way of fighting off moments that might +become Peavey."</p> +<p>"I don't quite understand—"</p> +<p>"Of course you don't, but that's of little consequence—to +Jim. He doesn't understand either. But you see he has a fine faith +now that the world is all Peavey—he learned it from me. Of +course, I <i>know</i> better, but I pretend not to, and often I can +fool myself for half an hour at a time. And of course I shouldn't +care to have that dog find out that this apparently Peavey +world—flawlessly Peavey—has a streak of Lansdale +running through it—that it has even its moments of curious, +hard suspicion, of distrust, of downright disbelief in all the good +things,—in short, its Miss Katherine Lansdale moments, if you +will pardon that hastily contrived metaphor."</p> +<p>Perceiving that further concealment would be unavailing, I added +quite openly: "Now, young woman, you see that I know your secret. I +felt it in the dark of our first meeting; it has since become +plainer,—too plain. You know too much—far more than is +good for either Jim or me to know. You can't believe +enough—all those things that Jim and I have found it best to +believe. I myself always fear that I shall be led into ways of +unbelief in your presence. That is why I can't trust Jim with you +alone, and why I could hardly trust myself there without Jim's +sustaining looks—that is why, in fact, that I shall try to +shun you in all but your approximately Peavey moments. I trust now +that this shall be the last time I must ever speak bitterly in your +presence. You are sufficiently warned."</p> +<p>While I spoke she had ceased rowing, and we drifted with the +current. A long time we drifted, and I rejoiced to see that I had +taunted Miss Lansdale into something like interest. I saw that she +was uncertain as to the degree of seriousness I had meant my words +to convey. Once she began as if they were wholly serious, and once +again as if they had been wholly unserious. If she at last appeared +to suspect that she must effect a compromise, I dare say she was as +nearly correct as I could have put her with any words I knew.</p> +<p>"But you had that dog from the first," she at length decided to +say, clearly in self-defence, "and still you are worried and +obliged to guard him from evil companions."</p> +<p>"You confess," I exclaimed in triumph.</p> +<p>"You had him as a puppy. Could you have expected so much of him +if he had run wild, in a world where any number of good dogs learn +unbelief, where they are shocked into it, all in a moment?"</p> +<p>"I didn't have myself from the first," I reminded her, "and I +believe only a few trifles less than Jim does. I know that robins +ascend without visible means, for example, if you run at them; but +I believe it's good to run at them just the same, even more +enjoyable than if they sat still to be caught."</p> +<p>"We were speaking of dogs," said Miss Lansdale. "At any rate Jim +had <i>you</i> from the first."</p> +<p>"Let us keep to dogs, then," I answered. "Meantime, if you +listen to me, you'll soon be in deep water, when we've both lost +the taste for adventure. This current will take us over the dam in +about seven minutes, I should judge."</p> +<p>She fell to the oars again with a dreaming face, in which +Lansdale and the other were so well blended that it was indeed the +face of visions that had long been coming to me.</p> +<p>"You remind me again of the wild gentleman," I said, after a +long look at her, a look which she was good enough to let me see +that she observed.</p> +<p>"<i>Et ego in Arcadia vixi</i>—and I, too, was netted in +my native jungle."</p> +<p>I saw that she, too, essayed the feat of being both light and +serious without letting the seam show.</p> +<p>"I mean about pictures," I explained. "The gentlemanly curator +of the side-show always says of the wild man thoughtfully, 'I +<i>believe</i> he has a few photographs for sale.' He is always +right—the wild man does have them, though I should not care +to say that they're worth the money; that depends upon one's +tastes, of course—by the way, Miss Lansdale, I have long had +a picture of you."</p> +<p>"Has mother—"</p> +<p>"No—long before I became a fellow-slave with +Clem—long before there was a juvenile mother or even a Clem +in Little Arcady."</p> +<p>"May I ask how you got it?"</p> +<p>"Certainly you may! I don't know."</p> +<p>"May I see it?" I thought she felt a deeper interest than she +cared to reveal.</p> +<p>"Unfortunately, no. If you only could see it, you would see that +it is almost a perfect likeness—perhaps a bit more Little +Miss than you could be now—but it's unmistakably true."</p> +<p>"I lost such a picture once," she said with a fall of her eyes. +"Where is the one you have?"</p> +<p>"Sometimes it's behind my eyes and sometimes it is out before +them."</p> +<p>"Nonsense!"</p> +<p>"To be sure! Only Jim and I, trained and hardened in the ways of +belief, are equal to a feat of that sort."</p> +<p>"I see no merit in believing that."</p> +<p>"I don't know that there is, especially—not in believing +this particular thing, but the power for belief in general which it +implies—you see I am unprejudiced."</p> +<p>"Why should you want to believe it?"</p> +<p>I should have known, without catching the glint of her eyes +under the hat brim, that a Peavey spoke there.</p> +<p>"If you could see the thing once, you'd understand," I said, an +answer, of course, fit only for a Peavey.</p> +<p>"At all events, you'll not keep it long." The words were Peavey +enough, but the voice was rather curiously Lansdale.</p> +<p>"I have made as little effort to keep it as I did to acquire +it," I said, "but it stays on, and I've a notion it will stay on as +long as Jim and I are uncorrupted. But it shan't inconvenience +you," I added brightly, in time to forestall an imminent other +"Nonsense!"</p> +<p>Being thus neatly thwarted, she looked over my shoulder and bent +to her oars, for we had again drifted toward the troubled waters of +the dam.</p> +<p>"I warned you—if you listened to me," I reminded her.</p> +<p>"Oh, I've not been listening—only thinking."</p> +<p>"Of course, and you were disbelieving. It's high time you put us +ashore. I want to believe, and I want not to be drowned. So does +Jim,—<i>both</i> of 'em."</p> +<p>She pointed the boat to our landing, and as she leaned her +narrow shoulders far back she shot me; one swift look. But I could +see much farther into the water that floated us.</p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CH25">CHAPTER XXV</a></h2> +<center>THE CASE OF FATTY BUDLOW</center> +<p>Lest Miss Katharine Lansdale seem unduly formidable, I should, +perhaps, say that I appeared to be alone in finding her so. Little +Arcadians of my own sex younger than myself—and, if I may +suggest it, less discerning—were not only not menaced, but +she invited them with a cordiality in which the keenest eye among +them could detect no flaw. Miss Lansdale's mother had also pleased +the masculine element of the town at her first progress through its +pleasant streets. But Miss Caroline, despite many details of dress +and manner that failed interestingly to corroborate the fact, was +an old woman, and one whose way of life made her difficult of +comprehension to the Little Country. Socially and industrially, one +might say, she did not fit the scheme of things as the town had +been taught to conceive it. Whereas, her daughter was a person +readily to be understood in all parts of the world where men have +eyes—as well by the homekeeping as by the travelled. Eustace +Eubanks, more or less a man of the world by virtue of that +adventurous trip to the Holy Land, understood her at one glance, as +did Arthur Updyke, who had fared abroad to the college of pharmacy +and knew things. But she was also lucid as crystal to G. Brown and +Creston Fancett, whose knowledge of the outside world was somewhat +affected by their experience of it, which was nothing. To all seven +of the ages was this woman comprehensible. Old Bolivar Kent, +eighty-six and shuffling his short steps to the grave not far +ahead, understood her with one look; the but adolescent Guy +McCormick, hovering tragically on the verge of his first public +shave, divined her quite as capably; the middle-yeared Westley +Keyts read her so unerringly on a day when she first regaled his +vision that he toiled for half an hour as one entranced, +disengaging what he believed to be porter-house steaks long after +the porter-house line in the beef under his hand had been +passed.</p> +<p>In short, Miss Lansdale was understood spontaneously—to +borrow a phrase from the <i>Argus</i>—"by each and all who +had the good fortune to be present," for she was dowered with that +quick-drawing charm which has worked a familiar spell upon the sons +of men in all times. She was incontestably feminine. She gave the +woman-call. That she seemed to give it against her +wish,—without intention,—that I was alone in detecting +this, were trifles beside the point. Masculine Little Arcady cared +not that she had been less successful than the late Colonel Potts, +for example, in preserving the truly Greek spirit—cared +naught for this so long as, meaningly or otherwise, she uttered the +immemorial woman-call in its true note wheresoever she fared.</p> +<p>And, curiously, since Miss Lansdale did not appear formidable to +masculine Little Arcady—with one negligible +exception—she seemed to try perversely not to be so. She was +amazingly gracious to it—still with one exception. She melted +to frivolity and the dance of mirth. She affected joy in its music +and confessed to a new feeling for Jerusalem after attending a lawn +party at which Eustace Eubanks did his best to please. She spoke of +this to Eustace with a crafty implication that it had remained for +him to interpret the antique graces of that storied place to a +world all too heedless. Eustace himself felt not only a renewed +interest in the land exploited by his magic lantern, but he began +to view all the rest of the world in a new and rosy light, of which +Miss Lansdale was the iridescent globe that diffused and subdued it +to the mellow hue of romance.</p> +<p>It is impossible to believe that Eustace was ever at any pains +to conceal the effects of this astral phenomenon from his family, +for its members were very quickly excited. If in that vale the +woman-call could be heard by ears attuned to its haunting cadences, +so also did the frightened mother-call echo its equally primitive +note, accompanied by the less well-known sister-call of warning and +distress.</p> +<p>The truth is that Eustace was becoming harder to manage with +each recurring crisis. For testimony in the present instance, I +need only adduce that he wrote poetry, more or less, after meeting +Miss Lansdale but a scant half-dozen times. This came to me in +confidence, however, and the obliquity of it spread no farther +beyond the family lines.</p> +<p>Fluttering with alarm, the mother of Eustace approached me as +one presumably familiar with the power of the Lansdales to work +disaster in a peaceful and orderly family. She sought to know if I +could not prevent her boy from "making a fool of himself." It was +never her way to bother with many words when she knew the right +few.</p> +<p>With an air that signified her intention of letting me know the +worst at once, Mrs. Eubanks drew from her bead reticule a sheet of +paper scribbled over in the handwriting of her misguided offspring. +It was a rondeau; I knew that by the shape, and the mother +apologized for the indelicacy of it before permitting my own cheeks +to blush thereat. The dominant line of the composition I saw to +be—</p> +<blockquote> +<p>"When love lights night to be its day."</p> +</blockquote> +<p>I turned from the stricken mother to cough deprecatingly when I +had read. She likewise had the delicacy to turn away and cough. But +an emergency of this momentous import must be discussed in plain +terms, however disconcerting the details, and Mrs. Eubanks had +nerved herself for the ordeal.</p> +<p>"I can't think," she began, "where the boy <i>learned</i> such +things!"</p> +<p>I had not the courage to tell her that they might be entirely +self-taught under certain circumstances.</p> +<p>"Such shameless, brazen things!" she persisted. "We have always +been <i>so</i> careful of Euty—striving to keep +him—well, wholesome and pure, you understand, Major +Blake."</p> +<p>"There are always dangers," I said, but only because she had +stopped speaking, and not in any hope of instructing her.</p> +<p>"If only we can keep him from making a fool of +himself—"</p> +<p>"It seems rather late," I said, this time with profound +conviction. "See there!"</p> +<p>Upon the margin of that captured sheet Eustace had exposed, as +it were, the very secret mechanics of his passion. There were +written tentative rhymes, one under another, as +"Kate—mate—Fate—late"—and eke an unblushing +"sate." Also had he, in the frenzy of his poetic rapture, divined +and indicated the technical affinities existing among words like +"bliss," "kiss," and "miss."</p> +<p>Interference, however delicately managed, seemed hopeless after +that, and I said as much. But I added: "Of course, if you let him +alone, he may come back to his better self. Perhaps the young lady +herself may prove to be your ally."</p> +<p>"Indeed not! She has set out deliberately to ensnare my poor +Euty," said the mother, with an incisive drawing in of her +expressively thin lips. "I knew it the very first evening I saw +them together."</p> +<p>"Mightn't it have been sheer trifling on her part ?" I +suggested.</p> +<p>"Can you imagine that young woman <i>daring</i> to trifle with +Eustace Eubanks?" she demanded.</p> +<p>I could, as a matter of fact; but as her query seemed to repel +such a disclosure, I lied.</p> +<p>"True," I said, "she would never dare. I didn't think of +that."</p> +<p>"With <i>all</i> her frivolity and lightness of manner and +fondness for dress, she must have some sense of fitness—"</p> +<p>"She must, indeed!"</p> +<p>"She could not go <i>that</i> far!"</p> +<p>"Certainly <i>not</i>!"</p> +<p>"Even if she <i>does</i> wear too many ribbons and laces and +fancy furbelows, with never a common-sense shoe to her foot!"</p> +<p>"Even if she <i>does</i>" I assented warmly.</p> +<p>And thus we were compelled to leave it. In view of those verses +I could suggest no plan for relief, and my one poor morsel of +encouragement had been stonily rejected.</p> +<p>Eustace went the mad pace. So did Arthur Updyke. It was rather +to be expected of Arthur, however. His duties at the City Drug +Store seemed to encourage a debonair lightness of conduct. He +treated his blond ringlets assiduously from the stock of pomades; +he was as fastidious about his fingernails as we might expect one +to be in an environment of manicure implements and nail +beautifiers; it was his privilege to make free with the varied +assortment of perfumes—a privilege he forewent in no degree; +his taste in tooth-powders was widely respected; and in moments of +leisure, while he leaned upon a showcase awaiting custom, he was +wont to draw a slender comb from an upper waistcoat pocket and pass +it delicately through his small but perfect mustache. Naturally +enough, it was said by the ladies of Little Arcady that Arthur's +attentions were never serious,—"except them he pays to +himself!" Aunt Delia McCormick would often add, for that excellent +woman was not above playing venomously with familiar words.</p> +<p>Also did G. Brown and Creston Fancett go the same mad pace. +These four were filled with distrust of one another, but as they +composed our male quartette, they would gather late on summer +nights and conduct themselves in a manner to make me wish that old +Azariah Prouse's peculiar belief as to house structure might have +included a sound-proof fence about his premises. For, on the +insufficient stretch of lawn between that house and my own, the +four rivals sang serenades.</p> +<p>"She sleeps—my lady sleeps," they sang, with a volume that +seemed bound to insure their inaccuracy as to the lady, and which +assuredly left them in the wrong as to her mother's +attorney—if their song meant in the least to report +conditions at large. As this was, however, the one occasion when +they felt that none of the four had any advantage over his fellows, +they made the most of it. Then, in the dead of night, I would be +very sorry that I had not counselled the mother of Eustace Eubanks +to send him around the world on a slow sailing ship; for it was his +voice, even in songs of sleep, that rendered this salutary exercise +most difficult.</p> +<p>On one of these wakeful summer nights, however, I received a +queer little shock. Perhaps I half dreamed it in some fugitive +moment of half sleep; but it was as if I were again an awkward, +silent boy, worshipping a girl new to the school, a girl who wore +two long yellow braids. I worshipped her from afar so that she saw +me not, being occupied with many adorers less timid, who made +nothing of snatching a hair ribbon. But the face in that instant of +dream was the face of Miss Katharine Lansdale, and coupled with the +vision was a prescience that in some later life I should again look +back and see myself as now, a grown but awkward boy, still holding +aloof—still adoring from some remote background while other +and bolder gallants captured trophies and lightly carolled their +serenades. It seemed like borrowing trouble to look still farther +into the future, but the vision was striking. Surely, History does +repeat itself. I should have made this discovery for myself had it +not been exploited before my day. For on the morrow I found my +woman child on the Lansdale lawn when I went home in the afternoon. +She had now reached an age when she was beginning to do "pretties" +with her lips as she talked—almost at the age when I had +first been enraptured by her mother, with the identical two braids, +also the tassels dangling from her boot tops. This latter was +unexciting as a coincidence, however. I myself had deliberately +produced it.</p> +<p>Miss Lansdale turned from talk with the child to greet me. Her +face was so little menacing that I called her "Miss Katharine" on +the spot. But my business was with the child.</p> +<p>"Lucy," I said, as I took the wicker chair by the hammock in +which they both lounged, "there is a boy at school who looks at you +a great deal when you're not watching him—you catch him at +it—but he never comes near you. He acts as if he were afraid +of you. He is an awkward, stupid boy. If he gets up to recite about +geography, or about 'a gentleman sent his servant to buy ten and +five-eighths yards of fine broadcloth,' or anything of that sort, +and if he happens to catch your eye at the moment, he flounders +like a caught fish, stares hard at the map of North America on the +wall, and sits down in disgrace. And when the other boys are +chasing you and pulling off your hair ribbons, he mopes off in a +corner of the school yard, though he looks as if he'd like to shoot +down all the other boys in cold blood."</p> +<p>"He has nice hair," said my woman child.</p> +<p>"Oh, he <i>has!</i> Very well; does his name happen to be +'Horsehead' or anything like that—the name the boys call him +by, you know?"</p> +<p>"Fatty—Fatty Budlow, if that's the one you mean. Do you +know him, Uncle Maje?"</p> +<p>"Better than any boy in the world! Haven't I been telling you +about him?"</p> +<p>"Once he brought a bag of candy to school, and I thought he was +coming up to hand it to me, but he turned red in the face and +stuffed it right into his pocket."</p> +<p>"He meant to give it to you, really—he bought it for +you—but he couldn't when the time came."</p> +<p>"Oh, did he tell you?"</p> +<p>"It wasn't necessary for him to tell me. I know that boy, I tell +you, through and through. Lucy, do you think you could encourage +him a little, now and then—be sociable with him—not +enough to hurt, of course? You don't know how he'd appreciate the +least kindness. He might remember it all his life."</p> +<p>"I might pat his hair—he has such nice hair—if he +wouldn't know it—but of course he would know it, and when he +looks at you, he is so queer—"</p> +<p>"Yes, I know; I suppose it is hopeless. Couldn't you even ask +him to write in your autograph album?"</p> +<p>"Y-e-s—I could, only he'd be sure to write something funny +like 'In Memory's wood-box let me be a stick.' He always does write +something witty, and I don't much care for ridiculous things in my +album; I'm being careful with it."</p> +<p>"Well, if he's as witty as <i>that</i> in your album, it will be +to mask a bleeding heart. I happen to know that in a former +existence he was never even asked to write, though he always hoped +he might be."</p> +<p>"I'm sorry if you like him, Uncle Maje, but I'm positive that +Fatty Budlow is not a boy I could <i>ever</i> feel deeply for. I +don't believe our acquaintance will even ripen into friendship," +and she looked with profound eyes into the wondrous, opening +future.</p> +<p>"Of course it won't," I said. "I might have known that. He will +continue through the ages to be an impossible boy. Miss Lansdale +feels the same way about him. Poor Fatty or Horsehead or whatever +they call him stands off and glares at her, and can't say his +lesson when he catches her eye—only he seldom does catch it, +because she's so busy with other boys of more spirit who crowd +about her and snatch hair ribbons and sing 'My lady sleeps' until +no one else can."</p> +<p>"Do you know Fatty Budlow?" asked my surprised woman child of +Miss Lansdale. But that young woman only reached out one foot to +point its toe idly at a creeping green worm and turn its vagrant +course. The toe was by no means common-sense, and the heel was +simply idiotic.</p> +<p>"Of course she knows him," I said; "she knows he would give his +right hand for her, which is a good deal under the circumstances, +and she very properly despises him for it. She'd take her picture +away from him if she could."</p> +<p>"She wouldn't," said Miss Lansdale, with a gesture of her foot +that disconcerted me.</p> +<p>"Miss Kate," I said, "I have lived my life in terror of seeing +one of those squashy green worms meet a fearful disaster in my +presence. Would you mind—"</p> +<p>With a fillip of the bronzed toe she sent the amazed worm into a +country that must have been utterly strange to it,</p> +<p>"She'd take it back quickly enough if she knew what he makes of +it," I said, returning to the picture; "if she knew that he had +kept it ever since he learned that agriculture, mining, and +ship-building are principal industries—only at first it had +two long yellow braids, and tassels dangling from its boot +tops."</p> +<p>"My mother had beautiful long golden hair," said the woman +child, adding simply, "papa says mine is just like it."</p> +<p>Miss Lansdale regarded me narrowly.</p> +<p>"You get me all mixed up," she said.</p> +<p>"I like to. You're heady then—like your mother's punch +when it's 'all mixed up.'"</p> +<p>"I must put in more ice," remarked Miss Lansdale, calmly.</p> +<p>"Fatty Budlow is so serious," said the woman child, suspecting +that the talk had drifted away from her.</p> +<p>"It's his curse," I admitted. "If he weren't an A No. 1 dreamer, +he'd be too serious to live, but be goes dreaming and maundering +along—dreaming that things are about as he would like to have +them. He sees your face and Miss Lansdale's, and then they get +mixed up in a queer way, and Miss Kate's face comes out of the +picture with such a look in the eyes that a man of ordinary spirit +would call her 'Little Miss' right off without ever stopping to +think; but of course this Fatty or Horsehead or whatever it is +can't say it right out, so he says it to himself about twenty-three +or twenty-four thousand times a day, as nearly as he can +reckon—he always was weak in arithmetic."</p> +<p>"You might let him write in <i>your</i> autograph album," said +the woman child, brightly, to Miss Lansdale.</p> +<p>"I know what he'd write if he got the chance," I added +incitingly. But it did not avail. Miss Lansdale remained incurious +and merely said, "Long golden braids," as one trying to picture +them.</p> +<p>"And later a little row of curls over each ear, and a tiny chain +with a locket around the neck. I had a picture once—"</p> +<p>"You have had many pictures."</p> +<p>"Yes—two are many if you've had nothing else."</p> +<p>But she was now regarding the woman child with a curious, close +look, almost troubled in its intensity.</p> +<p>"Do you look like your mother?" she asked.</p> +<p>"Papa says I do, and Uncle Maje thinks so too. She was very +pretty," This came with an unconscious placidity.</p> +<p>"She looks almost as her mother's picture did," I said.</p> +<p>When the child had gone, Miss Lansdale searched my face long +before speaking. She seemed to hesitate for words, and at length to +speak of other matters than those which might have perplexed +her.</p> +<p>"Why did they call you 'Horsehead'?" she asked almost +kindly.</p> +<p>"I never asked. It seemed to be a common understanding. +Doubtless there was good reason for it, as good as there is for +calling Budlow 'Fatty.'"</p> +<p>"What did you do?" she asked again.</p> +<p>"I went to the war with what I could take—nothing but a +picture."</p> +<p>"And you lost that?"</p> +<p>"Yes—under peculiar circumstances. It seemed a kind thing +to do at the time."</p> +<p>"And you came back with—"</p> +<p>"<i>With yours, Little Miss!</i>"</p> +<p>Some excitement throbbed between us so that I had involuntarily +emphasized my words. Briefly her eyes clung to mine, and very +slowly we relaxed from that look.</p> +<p>"I only wanted to say," she began presently, "that I shall have +to believe your absurd tale of my picture being with you before you +saw me. Something makes me credit it—a strange little notion +that I have carried that child's picture in my own mind."</p> +<p>"We are even, then," I answered, "only you are thinking more +things than you say. That isn't fair."</p> +<p>But she only nodded her head inscrutably.</p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CH26">CHAPTER XXVI</a></h2> +<center>A LITTLE MYSTERY IS SOLVED</center> +<p>The significance of Miss Lansdale's manner, rather than her +words, ran through my darkened thoughts like a thread as I played +the game that night. After a third defeat this thread seemed to +guide me to daylight from a tortuously winding cavern. At first the +thing was of an amazing simplicity.</p> +<p>In a far room was a chest filled with forgotten odds and ends +that had come back with me years before. I ran to it, and from +under bundles of letters, old family trinkets, a canteen, a pair of +rusty pistols, and other such matters, I brought forth an +ambrotype—the kind that was mounted in a black case of +pressed rubber and closed with a spring.</p> +<p>But even as I held the thing, flushed with my discovery, another +recollection cooled me, and the structure of my discovery tumbled +as quickly as it had built itself. Little Miss had found her own +picture when she found <i>him</i>. Her mother had told me this +definitely. It had been clutched in his hands, and she, after a +look, had tenderly replaced it to stay with his dust forever. This +I had forgotten at first, in my eagerness for light.</p> +<p>I pressed the spring that brought the face to my eyes, knowing +it would not be her face. Close to the light I studied it; the face +of a girl, eighteen or so, with dreaming eyes that looked beyond +me. It could not be Miss Lansdale, and yet it was strangely like +her—like the Little Miss she must once have been.</p> +<p>But one mystery at least was now plain—the mystery of my +own mind picture. I had not looked at this thing for ten years, but +its lines had stayed with me, and this was the face of my dreaming, +carried so long after its source had been forgotten. The face of +this picture had naturally enough changed to seem like the face of +Miss Lansdale after I had seen her.</p> +<p>Perhaps it was the face of a Peavey; there was at least a family +resemblance; that would explain the likeness to Miss Kate. This was +not much, but it was enough to sleep on.</p> +<p>As I left the house the following morning, Miss Lansdale, her +skirts pinned up, was among her roses with a watering pot and a +busy pair of scissors.</p> +<p>As I approached her I had something to say, but it was, for an +interval, driven from my lips.</p> +<p>"Promise me," I said instead, "never to wear a common-sense +shoe."</p> +<p>She stared at me with brows a trifle raised.</p> +<p>"Of course it will displease Mrs. Eubanks, but there is still a +better reason for it."</p> +<p>The brows went farther up at this until they were hardly to be +detected under the broad rim of her garden hat.</p> +<p>Her answer was icy, even for an "Indeed?"—quite in her +best Lansdale manner.</p> +<p>"Yes, 'indeed!'" I retorted somewhat rudely, "but never +mind—it's not of the least consequence. What I meant to say +was this—about those pictures of people, you remember."</p> +<p>"I remember perfectly, and I've concluded that it's all +nonsense—all of it, you understand."</p> +<p>"That's queer—so have I." Had I been a third person and an +observer, I would doubtless have sworn that Miss Lansdale was more +surprised than pleased by this remark of mine.</p> +<p>"I haven't had your picture at all," I went on; "it was a +picture of some one else, and I hadn't thought to look at it for a +long time—had forgotten it utterly, in fact. That's how I +came to think I knew your face before I knew you."</p> +<p>"I told you it was nonsense!" and she snipped off a rose with a +kind of miniature brusqueness.</p> +<p>"But you shall see that I had some reason. If you find time +to-day, step into my library and look at the picture. It's on the +mantel, and the door is open. It may be some one you know, though I +doubt even that."</p> +<p>With this I brazenly snatched a pink rose from those within her +arm.</p> +<p>"You see Fatty Budlow is coming on," I remarked of this bit of +boldness.</p> +<p>"Let him come—he shan't find <i>me</i> in the way." This +with an effort to seem significant.</p> +<p>"Oh, not at <i>all</i>!" I assured her politely, and with equal +subtlety, I believe.</p> +<p>Had I known that this was the last time I should ever look upon +Miss Katharine Lansdale, I might have looked longer. She was well +worth seeing for sundry other reasons than her need for +common-sense shoes. But those last times pass so often without our +suspecting them! And it was, indeed, my good fortune never to see +her again. For never again was she to rise, even at her highest, +above Miss Kate.</p> +<p>She was even so low as Little Miss when I found her on my porch +that afternoon—a troubled Little Miss, so drooping, so +queerly drawn about the eyes, so weak of mouth, so altogether +stricken that I was shot through at sight of her.</p> +<p>"I waited here—to speak alone—you are late +to-day."</p> +<p>I was early, but if she had waited, she would of course not know +this.</p> +<p>"What has happened, Miss Kate?"</p> +<p>"Come here."</p> +<p>Through my opened door I followed her quick step.</p> +<p>"You were jesting about that this morning,"—she pointed to +the picture, propped open against a book on the mantel; and then, +with an effort to steady her voice,—"you were jesting, and of +course you didn't know—but you shouldn't have jested."</p> +<p>"Can it be you, Miss Kate—can it really be you?"</p> +<p>"It is, it is—couldn't you see? Tell me +quickly—don't, don't jest again!"</p> +<p>"Be sure I shall not. Sit down."</p> +<p>But she stood still, with an arm extended to the picture, and +again implored me: "See—I'm waiting. +Where—how—did you get it?"</p> +<p>"Sit down," I said; and this time she obeyed with a little cry +of impatience.</p> +<p>"I'll try to bring it back," I said. "It was that day Sheridan +hurried back to find his army broken—all but beaten. Just at +dark there was a last charge—a charge that was met. I went +down in it, hearing yells and a spitting fire, but feeling only +numbness. When I woke up the firing was far off. Near me I could +hear a voice, the voice of a young man, I thought, wounded like +myself. I first took him for one of our men. But his talk +undeceived me. It was the talk of your men, and sorrowful talk. He +was badly hurt; he knew that. But he was sure of life. He couldn't +die there like a brute. He had to go back and he would go back +alive and well; for God was a gentleman, whatever else He was, and +above practical jokes of that sort. Then he seemed to know he was +losing strength, and he cried out for a picture, as if he must at +least have that before he went. Weak as he was, he tried to turn on +his side to search for it. 'It was here a moment ago,' he would +say; 'I had it once,' and he tried to turn again, still crying out +for it,—he must not die without it. It hurt me to hear his +voice break, and I made out to roll near him to help him search. +'We'll find it,' I told him, and he thanked me for my help. 'Look +for a square hard case,' he said eagerly. 'It must be here; I had +it after I fell down.' Together we searched the rough ground over +in the dark as well as we could. I was glad enough to help him. I +had a picture like that of my own that I shouldn't have liked to +lose. But we were clumsy searchers, and he seemed to lose hope as +he lost strength. Again he cried out for that picture, but now it +was a despairing cry, and it hurt me. Under the darkness I reached +my one good hand up and took my own picture from its place. So many +of us carried pictures over our hearts in those days. I pretended +then to search once more, telling him to have courage, and then I +said, 'Is this it?' He fumbled for it, and his hand caught it +quickly up under his chin. He was so glad. He thanked me for +finding it, and then he lay still, panting. After a while—we +both wanted water—I crawled away to where I heard a running +stream. It must have been farther than I thought, and I couldn't be +quick because so much of me was numb and had to be dragged. But I +reached the water and filled a canteen I had found on the way. As +soon as I could manage it I went back to him with the water, but I +must have been gone a long time. He wasn't there. But as I crawled +near where he had lain, I put my hand on a little square case such +as I had given him. I thought it must be mine. I lost consciousness +again. When I awoke two hospital stewards carried me on a +stretcher, and a field surgeon walked beside us. I still had the +picture, and not for many days did I know that it wasn't my own. +After that I forgot it—but I've already told you of +that."</p> +<p>Her eyes had not quitted my face while I spoke, though they were +glistening; her mouth had weakened more than once, and a piteous +little "Oh!" would come from her lips. When I had finished she +looked away from me, dropping her eyes to the floor, leaning +forward intently, her hands shut between her knees. For a long time +she remained so, forgetting me. But at last I could hear her +breathe and could see the increasing rise and fall of it, so that I +feared a crisis. But none came. Again she mastered herself and even +managed a smile for me, though it was a poor thing.</p> +<p>"I've told you all, Miss Kate."</p> +<p>"Yes—I'm unfair, but you have a right to know. I found +that picture—your picture, when they brought him in. His +hands were clenched about it. They said he had pleaded to hold it +and made them promise not to take it from him—ever. I was +left alone, and I dared to take it, just for a moment. Something in +the design of the cover puzzled me. I had meant to put it right +back, and after I had looked at it there was only one thing to +do—to put it back."</p> +<p>"They said you found your own picture, or I might have +suspected."</p> +<p>"They had reason to say it—I never told."</p> +<p>"Of course you never told, Miss Kate!" I seemed to learn a great +deal of her from that. She had carried her wound secretly through +all those years.</p> +<p>"Poor Little Miss!" I said in spite of myself, and at this quite +unexpectedly there befell what I had hoped we might both be +spared.</p> +<p>I might not soothe her as I would have wished, so I busied +myself in the next room until she called to me. She was putting +what touches she could to her eyes with a small and sadly +bedraggled handkerchief.</p> +<p>"There is a better reason for telling no one now," she said, "so +we must destroy this. Mother might see it."</p> +<p>My grate contained its summer accumulation of waste paper. She +laid the picture on this and I lighted the pyre.</p> +<p>"Your mother will see your eyes," I said.</p> +<p>"She has seen them so before." And she gave me her hand, which I +kissed.</p> +<p>"Poor Little Miss!" I said, still holding it.</p> +<p>"Not poor now—you have given me back so much. I can +believe again—I can believe almost as much as Jim."</p> +<p>But I released her hand. Though her eyes had not quitted mine, +their look was one of utter friendliness.</p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CH27">CHAPTER XXVII</a></h2> +<center>HOW A TRUCE WAS TROUBLESOME</center> +<p>In the days and nights that followed this interview I associated +rather more than usual with Jim. It seemed well to do so. I needed +to learn once more some of the magnificent belief that I had taught +him in days when my own was stronger. Close companionship with a +dog of the truly Greek spirit, under circumstances in which I now +found myself, was bound to be of a tonic value. I had seen, almost +at the moment of Miss Kate's disclosure, that a change was to come +in our relations. Perhaps I was wild enough at the moment to hope +that it might be a change for the better; but this was only in the +first flush of it—of a moment ill adapted for close +reasoning. It took no great while to convince me that the discovery +in which we had cooperated was of a character necessarily to put me +from her even farther than she had at first chosen to put +me—and that was far enough, Heaven knows.</p> +<p>In effect I had given back her love to her, a love she had for +ten years unjustly doubted. That was the cold truth of it for one +who knew women. One who could doubt the tenth year as poignantly as +she had doubted in the first—would she not in bitterness +regret her doubt ten other years, and sweetly mourn her lost love +still another ten? She who had let me be little enough to her while +she felt her wound—how much less could I be when the hurt was +healed? Before she might have been in want. At least that was +conceivable. Now her want was met. Not only was there this to fill +her heart, but remorse, the tenderest a woman may know, it seems to +me—remorse for undeserved suspicion.</p> +<p>In a setting less prosaic than Little Arcady, where events might +be of a story-fitness, that lover would have been alive by a happy +chance, estranged by the misunderstanding but splendidly faithful, +and I should have been helper and interested witness to an ideal +reconciliation; thereafter to play out my game with a full heart, +though with an exterior placidly unconcerned. But with us events +halt always a little short of true romance. They are unexcitingly +usual.</p> +<p>I would have to play out my game full heartedly, nursing my +powers of belief back to their one-time vigor; nothing would occur +to ease my lot—not even an occasion to pretend that I gave my +blessing to a reunited and happy pair. Miss Kate could go on +believing. Unwittingly I had given her the stuff for belief. I, +too, must go on believing, and providing my own material, as had +ever been my lot; all of which was why my dog seemed my most +profitable companion at this time. His every bark at a threatening +baby-carriage a block away, each fresh time he believed sincerely +that a rubber shoe was engaging in deadly struggle with him, taxing +all his forces to subdue it, each time he testified with sensitive, +twitching nostrils that the earth is good with innumerable scents, +each streaking of his glad-tongued white length over yellowing +fields designed solely for his recreation held for me a certain +soothing value. And when in quiet moments he assured me with +melting gaze that I was a being to challenge the very heart of +love—in some measure, at least, did my soul gain strength +from his own.</p> +<p>To know as much as I have indicated had been unavoidable for one +of any intuitive powers. The change at once to be detected in Miss +Kate's manner toward me confirmed my divinations without enlarging +them. Miss Katharine Lansdale was gone forever; in her place was a +Miss Kate,—even a Little Miss to the eye,—who regarded +me at first with an undisguised alarm, then with a curious +interfusion of alarm and shyness, a little disguised with not a +little effort. This was plain reading. She would at first have +distrusted me, apprehending I know not what rashness of ill-timed +and forever impossible declarations. As she perceived this alarm to +be baseless, for I not only refrained from intruding but I +ostentatiously let Miss Kate alone, shyness would creep into her +apprehension to make amends for its first crude manifestations.</p> +<p>As the days went by and I displayed still the fine sense to keep +myself aloof, to seek Miss Kate only in those ways that I sought +her refreshing mother, she let me discern more clearly her faith in +my firmness and good sense. To be plain, in reward for letting her +alone, she did not let me alone. And this reward I accepted +becomingly, with a resolve—the metal of which I hoped she +would divine—never to show myself undeserving of its +benisons.</p> +<p>When I say that the young woman did not let me alone, I mean +that she seemed almost to put herself in my way; not obviously, +true enough, but in a degree palpable enough to one who had +observed her first almost shrinking alarm. And this behavior of +hers went forward, at last, without the slightest leaven of +apprehension on her part, but her shyness remained. It was so +marked and so novel in her—with reference to +myself—that I could not fail to be sensible to it. It was as +if she divined that mad notions might still lurk within my untaught +mind to be reasons why she should fear me; but that her confidence +in my self-mastery could not, at the same time, be too openly +shown.</p> +<p>Tacitly, it was as if we had treated together; a treaty that +bound me to observe a perpetual truce. My arms were forever laid +down, and she, who had once so feared me, was now free to wander +when she would within the lines of an honorable enemy. That she +should walk there with increasing frequency as the days passed was +a tribute to my powers of restraint which I was too wise to +undervalue. I ignored the shyness of which she seemed unable to +divest herself in my presence. It would have been easy not to +ignore it, for there were times when, so little careful was she to +guard herself, that this shyness suggested, invited, appealed, +signalled; times when, without my deeper knowledge of her sex, I +could have sworn that the true woman-call rang in my ears. But a +treaty is a treaty, on paper or on honor, and ours would never be +broken by black treachery of mine, let her eyes fall under my own +with never so fluttering an allurement.</p> +<p>They were not bad days, as days go in this earth-life of too +much exact knowledge. Miss Kate rowed me over still waters and +walked beside me in green pastures. At times like these she might +even seem to forget. She would even become, I must affirm, more +nearly Peavey than was strictly her right; for it was plain that +our treaty, must involve certain stipulations of restraint on her +part as well as on my own. The burden was not all to be mine. But +these moments I learned to withstand, remembering that she was a +woman. That was a circumstance not hard to remember when she was +by. It is probable that my heart could not have forgotten it, even +had my trained head learned blandly to ignore it.</p> +<p>Further to enliven those days, I permitted Jim to give her +lessons in believing everything. When I told her of this, she said, +"I need them, I'm so out of practice." That was the nearest we had +come to touching upon the interview of a certain afternoon. I +should not have considered this a forbidden topic, but her shyness +became pitiful at any seeming approach to it. "Jim will put you +right again," I assured her. And I believe he did, though it was +not easy to persuade him that she could be morally recognized when +I was by. The occasion on which he first remained crouching at her +feet while I walked away was regarded by Miss Kate as a personal +triumph. She was so childishly open of her pleasure at this that I +did not tell her it was a mere trick of mine; that I had told him +to charge when he sprang up. She knew his eyes so little as to +think he displayed regard for rather than respect for my command. +She could not see that he begged me piteously to know <i>why</i> he +must crouch there at a couple of strange inconsequential feet and +see the good world go suddenly wrong.</p> +<p>Still further, to make those days not bad days, Miss Kate would +cross our little common ground of an early evening to where I +played the game on my porch. Often I did this until dusk obscured +the faces of the cards. I faintly suspected in the course of these +bird-like visits a caprice in Miss Kate to know what it might be +that I preferred to the society of her mother on her own porch. She +appeared to be more curious than interested. She promptly made +those observations which the unillumined have ever considered it +witty to make concerning those who play at solitaire. But, finding +that I had long ceased to be moved by these, she was friendly +enough to judge the game upon its merits. That she judged it to be +stupid was neither strange nor any reflection upon the fairness of +her mind. The game—in those profounder, rarer aspects which +alone dignify it—is not for women. I believe that the game of +cards to teach them philosophy under defeat, respect for the +inevitable and a cheerful manipulation of such trifling good +fortune as may befall—instead of that wild, womanish demand +for all or nothing—has yet to be invented. I predict of this +game, moreover, if ever it be found, that it will be a game at +which two, at least, must play. Rarely have I known a woman, +however rigid her integrity otherwise, who would not brazenly amend +or even repeal utterly those decrees of Fate which are symbolized +by the game. She desires intensely to win, and she will not be +above shifting a card or two in contravention of the known rules. +Far am I from intimating that this puts upon her the stigma of +moral delinquency. It is mere testimony, rather, to her astounding +capacity for self-deception. And this I cannot believe to be other +than gracious of influence upon the intricate muddle of human +association.</p> +<p>Miss Kate was finely the woman at those times when she deigned +for a ten minutes to overlook my playing of the game. Before I had +half finished, on the first occasion, she had mastered its simple +mechanism; and before I had quite finished she sought to practise +upon it those methods of the world woman in games of solitaire. She +would calmly have placed a black nine on a black ten.</p> +<p>"But the colors must alternate," I protested, thinking she had +forgotten this important rule.</p> +<p>"Of course—I know that perfectly well—but look what +a fine lot of cards that would give you. There's a deuce of hearts +you could play up and a three of spades, and then you could go back +to crossing the colors again, right away, you know, and you'd have +that whole line running up to the king ready to put into that +space."</p> +<p>I looked at her, as she would have glided brazenly over that +false play to rejoice in the true plays it permitted. But I did not +speak. There are times, indeed, when we most honor the tongue of +Shakspere by silence; emergencies to which words are so inadequate +that to attempt to use them were to degrade the whole language.</p> +<p>At the last I was brought face to face with a most intricately +planned defeat; a defeat insured by one spot on a card. Had the +obstructive card been a six-spot of clubs instead of a seven-spot, +victory was mine. I pointed this out to Miss Kate, who had declined +a chair at the table and had chosen to stand beside my own. I +showed her the series of plays which, but for that seven-spot, +would put the kings in their places at the top and let me win. And +I was beaten for lack of a six.</p> +<p>That she had grasped my explanation was quickly made plain. +Actually with some enthusiasm she showed me that the much-desired +six of clubs lay directly under the fatal seven.</p> +<p>"Just lay the seven over here," she began eagerly, "and there's +your black six ready for that horrid red five that's in the +way—"</p> +<p>"But there isn't any 'over here,'" I exclaimed in some +irritation. "There can only be eight cards in a row—that +would make nine."</p> +<p>"Yes, but then you could play up all the others so +beautifully—just see!"</p> +<p>"Is this a game," I asked, "or a child's crazy play?"</p> +<p>"Then it's an exceedingly stupid game if you can't do a little +thing like that when it's absolutely necessary. What is the +<i>sense</i> of it?"</p> +<p>Her eyes actually flashed into mine as she leaned at my side +pointing out this simple way to victory.</p> +<p>"What's the sense of any rules to any game on earth?" I +retorted. "If I hadn't learned to respect rules—if I hadn't +learned to be thankful for what the game allows me, however little +it may be—" I paused, for the water was deeper than I had +thought.</p> +<p>"Well?"</p> +<p>"Well—well <i>then</i>—I shouldn't be as thankful as +I am this instant for—for many things that I can't have more +of."</p> +<p>She straightened herself and favored me with a curious look that +melted at last into a puzzling smile.</p> +<p>"I don't understand you," she said. With a shade more of +encouragement in her voice I had been near to forgetting my honor +as a truce-observing enemy. I was grateful, indeed, afterwards, +that her wish to understand me was not sufficiently implied to +bring me thus low.</p> +<p>"Neither do I understand the morbid psychology that finds +satisfaction in cheating at solitaire," I succeeded in saying. "I +never can see how they fix it up with themselves."</p> +<p>"I believe you think and talk a great deal of foolishness," said +Miss Kate, in tones of reproof; and with this she was off the porch +before I could rise.</p> +<p>She wore pink, with bits of blue spotting it in no systematic +order that I could discern, and a pink rose lay abashed in her +hair.</p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CH28">CHAPTER XXVIII</a></h2> +<center>THE ABDICATION OF THE BOSS</center> +<p>There is no need to conceal that I was by this time put to it +for matters to think upon not clearly related to myself; in other +words for matters extraneous to my neighbor's troublesome daughter. +In sheer self-defence was I driven to look abroad for interests +that would suffice without disquieting me. I was now compelled to +admit that there was plainly to be observed in Miss Kate Lansdale +something more than a mere winning faith in my powers of +self-control. It was difficult at first to suspect that she +actually meant to try me to the breaking point. The suspicion +brought a false note to that harmony of chastened grief wherein, I +had divined, she meant to live out her life. It seemed too Peavey +and perverse a thing that she should, finding our truce honorably +observed by myself, behave toward me as if with a cold design to +bring me down in disgrace—as a proof of her superior powers +and my own wretched weakness. Yet this very thing was I obliged +regretfully to concede of her before many days. And it was behavior +that I could palliate only by reminding myself constantly that she +was not only a woman but the daughter of Miss Caroline, and by that +token subject inevitably to certain infirmities of character. And +still did she at times evince for me that shyness which only +enhanced my peril.</p> +<p>I managed to refrain, though in so grievous a plight, from +wishing for another war; though I did concede that if we must ever +again be cursed with war, it might as well come now as later. +Regrettable though I must consider it, I should there find, spite +of my disability, some field of active endeavor to engage my +mind.</p> +<p>Lacking war, I sought distraction in a matter close at +hand—one which possessed quite all the vivacity of war +without its violence.</p> +<p>Early in the summer Mrs. Aurelia Potts had resumed her +activities in behalf of our broader culture, whereupon our people +murmured promptly at Solon Denney; for him did Little Arcady still +hold to account for the infliction of this relentless evangel.</p> +<p>It was known that something still remained to Mrs. Potts, even +after a year, of the pittance secured from the railway company, so +that it was not necessity which drove her. To a considerable +element of the town it seemed to be mere innate perversity. "It's +<i>in</i> her," was an explanation which Westley Keyts thought +all-sufficient, though he added by way, as it were, of putting this +into raised letters for the blind, "she'd have to raise hell just +the same if it had cost that there railroad eight million 'stead of +eight hundred to exterminate Potts!"</p> +<p>For myself, I should have set this thing to different words. I +regarded Mrs. Potts as a zealot whom no advantage of worldly +resource could blind to our shortcomings, nor deter from +ministering unto them. Had it been unnecessary to earn bread for +herself and little Roscoe, I am persuaded that she would still have +been unremitting in her efforts to uplift us. In that event she +might, it is true, have read us more papers and sold us fewer +books; but she would have allowed herself as little leisure.</p> +<p>That Little Arcady was unequal to this broader view, however, +was to be inferred from comments made in the hearing of and often, +in truth, meant for the ears of Solon Denney. The burden was +shifted to his poor shoulders with as little concern as if our best +citizens had not coöperated with him in the original move, +with grateful applause for its ingenious and fanciful daring. In +ways devoid of his own vaunted subtlety, it was conveyed to Solon +that Little Arcady expected him to do something. This was after the +town had been cleanly canvassed for two monthly magazines—one +of which had a dress-pattern in each number, to be cut out on the +dotted line—and after our heroine had gallantly returned to +the charge with a rather heavy "Handbook of Science for the +Home,"—a book costing two dollars and fifty cents and +treating of many matters, such as, how to conduct electrical +experiments in a drawing-room, how to cleanse linen of ink-stains, +how the world was made, who invented gun-powder, and how to restore +the drowned. I recite these from memory, not having at hand either +of my own two copies of this valuable work. Upon myself Mrs. Potts +was never to call in vain, for to me she was an important card +miraculously shuffled into the right place in the game. It was the +custom of Miss Caroline, also, to sign gladly for whatsoever Mrs. +Potts signified would be to her advantage. She gave the "Handbook +of Science" to Clem, who, being strongly moved by any group of +figures over six, rejoiced passionately to read the weight of the +earth in net tons, and to dwell upon those vastly extensive +distances affected by astronomers.</p> +<p>But abroad in the town there was not enough of this complaisance +nor of this passion for mere numerals to prevent worry from +creasing the brow of Solon Denney.</p> +<p>"The good God helped him once, but it looks like he'd have to +help himself now," said Uncle Billy McCormick, the day he refused +to subscribe for an improving book on the ground that the +clock-shelf wouldn't hold another one. And this view of the +situation came also to be the desperate view of Solon himself. That +he suffered a black hour each week when Mrs. Potts read the +<i>Argus</i> to him with corrections to make it square with "One +Hundred Common Errors" and with good taste, in no way lessened the +feeling against him. If he sustained an injury peculiar to his +calling, it seemed probable that he would the sooner be moved to +action. Little Arcady did not know what he could do, but it had +faith that he would do something if he were pushed hard enough. So +the good people pushed and trusted and pushed.</p> +<p>To those brutal enough to seek direct speech about it with +Solon, he professed to be awaiting only the right opportunity for a +brilliant stroke, and he counselled patience.</p> +<p>To me alone, I think, did he confide his utter lack of +inspiration. And yet, though he seemed to affect entire candor with +me, I was, strangely enough, puzzled by some reserve that still +lurked beneath his manner. I hoped this meant that he was slowly +finding a way too good to be told as yet, even to his best +friend.</p> +<p>"Something must be done, Cal," he said, on one occasion, "but +you see, here's the trouble—she's a woman and I'm a man."</p> +<p>"That's a famous old trouble," I remarked.</p> +<p>"And she's <i>got</i> to live, though Wes' Keyts says he isn't +so sure of that—he says I'm lucky enough to have an +earthquake made up especially for this case—and if she lives, +she must have ways and means. And then I have my own troubles. Say, +I never knew I was so careless about my language until she came +along. She says only an iron will can correct it. Did you ever +notice how she says 'i—ron' the way people say it when they're +reading poetry out loud? I'll bet, if he had her help, the author +of 'One Hundred Common Errors' could take an <i>Argus</i> and run +his list up to a hundred and fifty in no time. She keeps finding +common errors there that I'll bet this fellow never heard of. You +mustn't say 'by the sweat of the brow,' but 'by the +perspiration'—perspiration is refined and sweat is +coarse—and to-day I learned for the first time that it's +wrong to say 'Mrs. Henry Peterby of Plum Creek, <i>née</i> +Jennie McCormick, spent Sunday with her parents of this city.' It +looks right on the face of it, but it seems you mustn't say +'née' for the first name—only the last; though it +means in French that that was her name before she was married. I +tell you, that woman is a stickler. But what can I do?"</p> +<p>"Well, what <i>can</i> you do? Far be it from me to suggest that +something must be done."</p> +<p>"Do you know, Cal, sometimes I've thought I'd adopt a tone with +her?"</p> +<p>"Better be careful," I cautioned. Mrs. Potts was not a person +that one should adopt a tone with except after long and prayerful +deliberation.</p> +<p>"Oh, I've considered it long enough—in fact I've +considered a lot of things. That woman has bothered me in more ways +than one, I tell you frankly. She's such a fine woman, +splendid-looking, capable, an intellectual giant—one, I may +say, who makes no common errors—and yet—"</p> +<p>"Ah! and yet—?" There was then in Solon's eyes that +curious reserve I had before noted—a reserve that hinted of +some desperate but still secret design.</p> +<p>"Well, there you are."</p> +<p>"Where?"</p> +<p>"Well—she seems to me to be a born leader of men."</p> +<p>"I see, and you?"</p> +<p>"Oh, nothing—only I'm a man. But something has got to be +done. We must use common sense in these matters."</p> +<p>It was early evening a week later when I again saw Solon; one of +those still, serene evenings of later summer when the light would +yet permit an hour's play at the game. I heard a step, but it was +not she I longed, half-expected, and wholly dreaded to see. Instead +came Solon, and by his restored confidence of bearing I knew at a +glance that something had been done or—since he seemed to be +hurried—that he was about to do it.</p> +<p>"It's all over, Cal—it's fixed!"</p> +<p>"Good—how did you fix it?"</p> +<p>"Well—uh—I adopted a tone."</p> +<p>"That was brave, Solon. No other man on God's earth would have +dared—"</p> +<p>"A tone, I was about to say—" he broke in a little +uncomfortably, I thought—"which I have long contemplated +adopting. If I could tell you just how that woman has impressed +herself upon me, you'd understand what I mean when I say that she +has <i>powers</i>. But I suppose you can't understand it, can you?" +His tone, curiously enough, was almost pleading.</p> +<p>"It isn't necessary that I should. I can at least understand +that you are the Boss of Little Arcady once more."</p> +<p>"Boss of nothing!—that's all over. Cal, I've +abdicated—I'm not even Boss of myself."</p> +<p>"Why, Solon—you can't possibly mean—"</p> +<p>"I do, though! Mrs. Potts is going to marry me +and—uh—put an end to everything!"</p> +<p>With this rather curious finish he held out his hand +expectantly.</p> +<p>"Well, you certainly <i>did</i> something, Solon."</p> +<p>"We have to use common sense in these matters," he said with an +effort to control his excitement. But, looking into his eyes, I saw +reason to shake him warmly by the hand. What was my own poor +opinion at a crisis like this? Certainly nothing to be obtruded +upon my friend. It was clear that he had done a thing which he +earnestly wanted and had earnestly dreaded to do—and that the +dread was past.</p> +<p>"I'm pretty happy, Cal—that's all. Of course you'll soon +know how it is yourself." He referred here to the well-known fact +that I was much in the company of Miss Lansdale. But this was a +thing to be turned.</p> +<p>"Oh, the game is teaching me resignation to a solitary life," I +said with an affectation of disinterest that must have irritated +him, for he asked bluntly:—</p> +<p>"Say, Calvin, how long do you intend to keep up that damned +nonsense when everybody knows—"</p> +<p>This interesting sentence was cut off by Miss Kate Lansdale, who +appeared around the corner and paused politely before us, with a +look of trained and admirable deafness.</p> +<p>"Ah, Miss Lansdale," said Solon, urbanely, "I was just about to +speak of you."</p> +<p>"Dear me!" said the young woman, simply. I thought she was +aghast.</p> +<p>"Yes—but it's not worth repeating—or finishing."</p> +<p>Miss Lansdale seemed to be relieved by this assurance.</p> +<p>"And now I must hurry off," added Solon.</p> +<p>"Good evening!" we both said.</p> +<p>It seemed to be of a stuff from which curtains are sometimes +made, white, with little colored figures in it, but the design +would have required at least a column of the most technical +description in a magazine I had subscribed for that summer. There +was lace at the throat, and I should say that the thing had been +constructed with the needs of Miss Lansdale's slender but completed +figure solely and clearly in mind.</p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CH29">CHAPTER XXIX</a></h2> +<center>IN WHICH ALL RULES ARE BROKEN</center> +<p>Swiftly I appraised the cool perfection of her attire, scenting +the spice of the pinks she had thrust at her belt. And I suffered +one heart-quickening look from her eyes before she could lower them +to me. In that instant I was stung with a presentiment that our +treaty was in peril—that it might go fearfully to smash if I +did not fortify myself. It came to me that the creature had +regarded my past success in observing this treaty with a kind of +provocative resentment. I cannot tell how I knew it—certainly +through no recognized media of communication.</p> +<p>Most formally I offered her a chair by the card-table, and +resumed my own chair with what I meant for an air of inhospitable +abstraction. She declined the chair, preferring to stand by the +table as was her custom.</p> +<p>"It was on this spot years ago," I said, laying down the second +eight cards, "that Solon Denney first told me he was about to +marry."</p> +<p>Discursive gossip seemed best, I thought.</p> +<p>"Two long yellow braids," she remarked. It would be too much to +say that her words were snapped out.</p> +<p>"And now he has told me again—I mean that he's going to +marry again."</p> +<p>"What did you do?" she asked more cordially, studying the +cards.</p> +<p>"The first time I went to war," I answered absently, having to +play up the ace and deuce of diamonds.</p> +<p>"I have never been able to care much for yellow hair," she +observed, also studying the cards; "of course, it's +<i>effective</i>, in a way, but—may I ask what you're going +to do this time?"</p> +<p>"This time I'm going to play the game."</p> +<p>Again she studied the cards.</p> +<p>"It's refining," I insisted. "It teaches. I'm learning to be a +Sannyasin."</p> +<p>Eight other cards were down, and I engrossed myself with +them.</p> +<p>"Is a Sannyasin rather dull?"</p> +<p>"In the Bhagavad-gita," I answered, "he is to be known as a +Sannyasin who does not hate and does not love anything."</p> +<p>"How are you progressing?" I felt her troubling eyes full upon +me, and I suspected there was mockery in their depths.</p> +<p>"Oh, well, fairishly—but of course I haven't studied as +faithfully as I might."</p> +<p>"I should think you couldn't afford to be negligent."</p> +<p>I played up the four of spades and put a king of hearts in the +space thus happily secured.</p> +<p>"I have read," I answered absently, "that a benevolent man +should allow himself a few faults to keep his friends in +countenance. I mustn't be everything perfect, you know."</p> +<p>"Don't restrain yourself in the least on my account."</p> +<p>"You are my sole trouble," I said, playing a black seven on a +red eight. She looked off the table as I glanced up at her.</p> +<p>I am a patient enough man, I believe, and I hope meek and lowly, +but I saw suddenly that not all the beatitudes should be taken +without reservation.</p> +<p>"I repeat," I said, for she had not spoken, "your presence is +the most troubling thing I know. It keeps me back in my +studies."</p> +<p>"There's a red five for that black six," she observed.</p> +<p>"Thank you!" and I made the play.</p> +<p>"Then you're not a Sannyasin yet?"</p> +<p>"I've nearly taken the first degree. Sometimes after hard +practice I can succeed in not hating anything for as much as an +hour."</p> +<p>I dealt eight more cards and became, to outward seeming, I hope, +absorbed in the new aspect of the game.</p> +<p>"Perseverance will be rewarded," she said kindly. "You can't +expect to learn it all at once."</p> +<p>"You might try not to make it harder for me."</p> +<p>Again had I been a third person of fair discernment, I believe I +should have sworn that I caught in her eyes a gleam of hardened, +relentless determination; but she only pointed to a four of hearts +which I was neglecting to play up.</p> +<p>"Why not play the game to win?" she asked, and there was that in +her voice which was like to undo me—a tone and the merest +fanning of my face by her loose sleeve as she pointed to the +card.</p> +<p>Suddenly I knew that honor was not in me. She walked within my +lines in imminent peril of the deadliest character. But there was +no sign of fear in the look she held me with, and I knew she had +not sensed her danger.</p> +<p>"You should play your stupid game to win," she repeated +terribly. "You are too ingenious at finding balm in defeat." That +little golden roughness in her voice seemed to grate on my bared +heart. I left her eyes with a last desperate appeal to the game. My +hand shook as it laid down the final eight cards.</p> +<p>"Have I ever had any reason to think I could win?" I found I +could ask this if I kept my eyes upon the cards.</p> +<p>She laughed a curious, almost silent, confidential little laugh, +through which a sigh of despair seemed to breathe.</p> +<p>I looked quickly up, but again there was that strange gleam in +her eyes, a gleam of sternest resolve I should have called it under +other circumstances.</p> +<p>"You see!" I exclaimed, pointing with a trembling but triumphant +finger at the cards. "You see! I am beaten now, in this game that +seemed easy up to the very last moment. What could I hope for in a +game where the cards fell wretchedly from the very start? If I +hoped now, I'd be a hopeless fool, indeed!"</p> + +<p class="figure"><a href="images/illp357t.jpg"><img width="50%" +src="images/illp357t.jpg" alt= +"'THAT WILL DO,' I SAID SEVERELY. 'REMEMBER THERE IS A GENTLEMAN PRESENT.'" /> +</a></p> +<center><h5>"'THAT WILL DO,' I SAID SEVERELY. 'REMEMBER THERE IS A +GENTLEMAN PRESENT.'"</h5></center> + +<p>"Are you sure you know how to play this game?"</p> +<p>There was a sort of finality in her words that sickened me.</p> +<p>"I have abided always by the rules," I answered doggedly, "and I +do know the rules. Look—this game is neatly blocked by one +little four-spot on that queen. If that queen were free, I could +finish everything."</p> +<p>"Oh, oh—I've told you it's a stupid game with stupid +rules—and it makes its players—" She did not complete +that, but went about on another tack—with the danger note in +her voice. "Just now I overheard your caller say a +thing—"</p> +<p>"Ah, I feared you overheard."</p> +<p>The arrogance of the gesture with which she interrupted me was +splendid.</p> +<p>"He said, 'How long are you going to keep up +that—that—'"</p> +<p>"That will do," I said severely. "Remember there is a gentleman +present." But my voice sounded queerly indeed to the ears most +familiar with its quality. Also it trembled, for her gaze, almost +stern in its questioning, had not released me.</p> +<p>"But how long <i>are</i> you?" Her own voice had trembled, as +mine did. She might as well have used the avoided word. Her tone +carried it far too intelligibly. It was quite as bad as swearing. I +tried twice before I succeeded in finding my voice.</p> +<p>"I've <i>told</i> you," I said desperately; "can't you +see—that queen isn't free?"</p> +<p>Swiftly—I regret to say, almost with a show of +temper—she snatched the four of diamonds from its lawful +place and laid it brazenly far outside the game.</p> +<p>"The creature <i>is</i> free," she said crisply—but at +once her arrogance was gone and she drooped visibly in +weakness.</p> +<p>So quickly did I rise from the table that the cards of the game +were hurled into a meaningless confusion. I stood at her side. I +had lost myself.</p> +<p>"Little Miss,—oh, Little Miss! I've a thousand arms all +crying for you."</p> +<p>Slowly she made her eyes come to mine—not without effort, +for we were close.</p> +<p>"I am glad we left you,"—she had meant to say "that arm," +I judge, but there was a break in her voice, a swift movement, and +she suddenly said "<i>this</i> arm," with a little shudder in which +she could not meet my eyes; for, such as the arm was, she had +finished her speech from within it. Close I held her, like a +witless moonling, forgetting all resolves, all lessons, all +treaties—all but that she was not a dream woman.</p> +<p>"Oh, Little Miss!" was all I could say; and she—"Calvin +Blake!" as if it were a phrase of endearment.</p> +<p>"Little Miss, that loss has put me out, but never has it been +the hardship it is now—one arm!"</p> +<p>I had not thought it possible for her to come nearer, but a +successful nestling movement was her answer.</p> +<p>"I feel the need of a thousand arms, and yet their strength +is—"</p> +<p>"Is in this one." She completed my sentence with her own +nestling emphasis for "this one."</p> +<p>"Can you believe now, Little Miss?"</p> +<p>"Yes—you gave it to me again."</p> +<p>"Can you believe that I—I—"</p> +<p>"<i>That</i> was never hard. I believed that the first evening I +saw you."</p> +<p>"A womanish thing to say—I didn't know it myself."</p> +<p>But she laughed to me, laughed still as I brought her face +nearer—so near. Only then did her parted lips close tensely +in the woman fear of what she read in my eyes. I have reason to +believe that she would have mastered this fear, but at that instant +Miss Caroline coughed rather alarmingly.</p> +<p>"You should do something for that right away," I said, as we +struck ourselves apart. "You let a cough like that run along and +you don't know what it may end in." Whereupon, having kissed no one +on this occasion, I now kissed Miss Caroline,—without +difficulty, I may add.</p> +<p>"I've been meaning to do it for a year," I explained.</p> +<p>"I must remind you that they were far less deliberate in +<i>my</i> day," said she, with a delicate hint of reminiscence in +her tone. Whereupon she looked searchingly at each of us in turn. +Then, with a little gasp, she wept daintily upon my love's +shoulder.</p> +<p>I had long suspected that tears were a mere aesthetic +refreshment with Miss Caroline. I had never known her weaken to +them when there seemed to be far better reasons for it than the +present occasion furnished.</p> +<p>"I must take her home," said my love, without speaking.</p> +<p>"<i>Do!</i>" I urged, likewise in silence, but +understandably.</p> +<p>"And I must be alone," she called, as they stepped out on to the +lawn.</p> +<p>"So must I." It had not occurred to me; but I could see thoughts +with which my mind needed at once to busy itself. I watched them go +slowly into the dusk. I thought Miss Caroline seemed to be +recovering.</p> +<p>When they had gone, I stepped out to look up at the strange new +stars. The measure of my dream was full and running over. To stand +there and breathe full and laugh aloud—that was my prayer of +gratitude; nor did I lack the presence of mind to hope that, in +ascending, it might in some way advantage the soul of J. Rodney +Potts, that humble tool with which the gods had wrought such +wonders.</p> +<p>It was no longer a dream, no vision brief as a summer's night, +when the light fades late to come again too soon. Before, in that +dreaming time, I saw that I had drawn water like the Danaides, in a +pitcher full of holes. But now—I wondered how long she would +find it good to be alone. I felt that I had been alone long enough, +and that seven minutes, or possibly eight, might suffice even +her.</p> +<p>She came almost with the thought, though I believe she did not +hurry after she saw that I observed her.</p> +<p>"I had to be alone a long time, to think well about it—to +think it all out," she said simply.</p> +<p>I thought it unnecessary to state the precise number of minutes +this had required. Instead I showed her all those strange new stars +above us, and together we surveyed the replenished heavens.</p> +<p>"How light it is—and so late!" she murmured absently.</p> +<p>"Come back to our porch."</p> +<p>There for the first time in its green life my vine came into its +natural right of screening lovers. In its shade my love cast down +her eyes, but intrepidly lifted her lips. Miss Caroline was still +where she should have remained in the first place.</p> +<p>"I am very happy, Little Miss!"</p> +<p>"You shall be still happier, Calvin Blake. I haven't waited this +long without knowing—"</p> +<p>"Nor I! I know, too."</p> +<p>"I hope Jim will be glad," she suggested.</p> +<p>"He'll be delighted, and vastly relieved. It has puzzled him +fearfully of late to see you living away from me."</p> +<p>We sat down, for there seemed much to say.</p> +<p>"I believed more than you did, with all your game," she taunted +me.</p> +<p>"But you broke the rules. Anybody can believe anything if he can +break all the rules."</p> +<p>"I'd a dreadful time showing you that I meant to."</p> +<p>I shall not detail a conversation that could have but little +interest to others. Indeed, I remember it but poorly. I only know +that it seemed magically to feed upon itself, yet waxed to little +substance for the memory.</p> +<p>One thing, however, I retain vividly enough. In a moment when we +both were silent, renewing our amazement at the stars, there burst +upon the night a volume of song that I instantly identified.</p> +<p>"She sleeps, my lady sleeps!" sang the clear tenor of Arthur +Updyke. "My lady sleeps—she sleeps!" sang three other voices +in well-blended corroboration; after which the four discoursed upon +this interesting theme.</p> +<p>We were down from the stars at once, but I saw nothing to laugh +at, and said as much.</p> +<p>"We might take them out some sandwiches and things to drink," +persisted my Little Miss.</p> +<p>But the starlight had shown me a gleam in her eyes that was too +outrageously Peavey.</p> +<p>"We will <i>not</i>" I chanted firmly to the music's mellowed +accompaniment. "I am free to say now that the thing must be +stopped, but you shall do it less brutally—to-morrow or next +day."</p> +<p>"Oh, well, if you—"</p> +<p>She nestled again. So soon had this habit seemed to fasten upon +her adaptable nature.</p> +<p>"It's wonderful what one arm can do," she said; and in the +darkness she felt for the closing hand of it to draw it yet more +firmly about her.</p> +<p>"It has the spirit of all the arms in the world, Little +Miss—oh, my Little Miss—my dream woman come true!"</p> +<p>She nestled again, with a sigh of old days ended.</p> +<p>"You <i>can't</i> get any closer," I admonished.</p> +<p>"<i>Here!</i>" she whispered insistingly, so that I felt the +breath of it.</p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CH30">CHAPTER XXX</a></h2> +<center>BY ANOTHER HAND</center> +<p>A wanderer from Little Arcady in early days returned to its +placid shades after many years, drawn thither by a little +quick-born yearning to walk the old streets again. But he found +such strangeness in these that his memory was put to prodigious +feats of reconstruction ere it could make them seemly as of +yore.</p> +<p>To the west, away from the river, the town has groped beyond a +prairie frontier that had once been sacred to boyish games and the +family cow. Now, so thickly was it built with neat white houses, +that only with strenuous clairvoyance could famous old localities +be identified: the ball-ground; the marshy stretch that made +skating in winter, or, in spring, a fascinating place to catch cold +by wading; the grassy common where "shinny" was played by day and +"Yellow Horn" by night; the enchanted spot where the circus built +airy castles of canvas, and where, on the day after, one might +plant one's feet squarely in the magic ring, on the veritable spot, +perchance, where the clown had superhumanly ridden the difficult +trick-mule after local volunteers had failed so entertainingly.</p> +<p>Barns in this once wild country had failed amazingly. Only one +of any character was left, and it had shrunk. Of old a structure of +possibilities intensely romantic, it was now dingy, pitiable, +insignificant. No reasonable person would consider holding a circus +there—admission ten pins for boys and five pins for +girls.</p> +<p>Orchards, too, had suffered. Acres of them, once known to their +last tree, including the safest routes of approach by day or night, +had been cut down to make space for substantial but unexciting +houses, quite like the houses in anybody's town. Other orchards had +shrunk to a few poor unproductive trees so little prized by their +owners that they could no longer excite evil thoughts in the +young.</p> +<p>Indeed, almost everything had shrunk. The church steeples, once +of an inconceivable height, were now but a scant sixty feet; and +the buildings beneath them, that once had vied with old-world +cathedrals, were seen to be but toy churches.</p> +<p>Especially had gardens shrunk. One that boasted the widest area +in days when it must be hoed for the advantage of potatoes insanely +planted there, was now a plot so tiny that the returned wanderer, +amazedly staring at it, abandoned all effort to make it occupy its +old place in his memory.</p> +<p>North and south were dozens of strange, prim houses to puzzle up +the streets. The street-signs, another innovation, were truly +needed. Of old it had been enough to say "down toward the depot," +"out by the McCormick place," "next to the Presbyterian church," +"up around the schoolhouse," or "down by the lumber yard." But now +it was plain that one had to know First, Second, and Third streets, +Washington, Adams, and Jefferson streets.</p> +<p>Socially as well, the town had changed. Not only is the native +stock more travelled, speaking—entirely without an +air—of trips to the Yellowstone, to Europe, Chicago, or Santa +Barbara, but a new element has invaded the little country. It goes +in the fall, but it comes again each summer, drawn by the green +beauty of the spot, and it has left its impress.</p> +<p>The revisiting wanderer observed, as in a dream, an immaculate +coupé with a couple of men on the box who behaved quite as +if they were about to enter the park in the full glare of +Fifty-ninth Street and Fifth Avenue, though they were but on a +street of the little country among farm wagons. The outfit was +ascertained to belong to a summer resident who was said, by common +report, to "have wine right on the table at every meal." No one +born out of Little Arcady can appraise the revolutionary character +of this circumstance at anything like its true value.</p> +<p>Further, in the line of vehicular sensationalism, a modish +wicker-bodied phaeton and a minute pony-cart were seen on a +pleasant afternoon to issue from a driveway far up a street that +now has a name, but which used to be adequately identified by +saying "up toward the Fair Grounds."</p> +<p>The phaeton was occupied by two ladies, one rather old, to whom +a couple of half-grown children in the pony-cart kissed their hands +and shouted. They were not permitted to follow the phaeton, +however, as they seemed to have wished. Its shock-headed pony, +driven by an aged negro who scolded both children with a worn and +practised garrulity, was turned in another direction. One of the +children, a little dark-faced girl of eight or nine, called "Little +Miss" by the driver, was repeatedly threatened in the fiercest tone +by him because of her perilous twistings to look back at the +phaeton. The cart was followed by a liver-and-white setter; a young +dog, it seemed, from his frenzied caperings and his manner of +appearing to think of something else in the midst of every +important moment.</p> +<p>There proved to be two papers in the town, as of old, but the +<i>Argus</i> was now published twice a week, Wednesdays and +Saturdays. The wanderer eagerly scanned its columns for familiar +names and for something of the town's old tone; but with little +success.</p> +<p>Said one item, "A string of electric lights, on a street leading +up one of our hills, looks like a necklace of brilliants on the +bosom of the night." Old Little Arcady had not electric lights; nor +the <i>Argus</i> this exuberance of simile.</p> +<p>Again: "This new game of golf that the summer folks play seems +to have too much walking for a good game and just enough game to +spoil a good walk." Golf in the Little Country!</p> +<p>The advent of musical culture was signified by this: "At least +thirty girls in this town can play the first part of 'Narcissus' +pretty well. But when they come to the second part they mangle the +keys for a minute and then say, 'I don't care much for that second +part—do you?' Why don't some of them learn it and give us a +chance to judge?"</p> +<p>The <i>Argus</i> had acquired a "Woman's Department," conducted +by Mrs. Aurelia Potts Denney, wife of the editor,—a +public-spirited woman, prominent in club circles, and said to be of +great assistance to her husband in his editorial duties. The town +was proud of her, and sent her as delegate to the Federation of +Woman's Clubs; her name, indeed, has been printed in full more than +once, even by Chicago newspapers. Some say that wisely she might +give more attention to her twin sons, Hayes and Wheeler Denney; but +this likely is ill-natured carping, for Hayes and Wheeler seem not +more lawless than other twins of eight. And carpers, to a +certainty, do exist in Little Arcady.</p> +<p>One Westley Keyts, for example, lounging in the doorway of his +meat-shop, renewed acquaintance with the wanderer, who remembered +him as a glum-faced but not bad-hearted chap. Names recalled and +hands shaken, Mr. Keyts began to lament the simple ways of an elder +day, glancing meanwhile with honest disapproval at a newly +installed competitor across the street. The shop itself was +something of an affront, its gilt name more—"The Bon Ton +Market." Mr. Keyts pronounced "Bon Ton" in his own fashion, but his +contempt was ably and amply expressed.</p> +<p>"Sounds like one of them fancy names for a corset or a patent +lamp," he complained. "It's this here summer business that done it. +They swarm in here with their private hacks and their hired help +all togged out till you'd think they was generals in the army, and +they play that game of sissy-shinny (drop-the-handkerchief for +mine, if <i>I</i> got to play any such game), and they're such +great hands to kite around nights when folks had ought to be in +their beds. I tell you, my friend, it ain't doing this town one bit +of good. The idea of a passel of strong, husky young men settin' +around on porches in their white pants and calling it 'passing the +summer.' <i>I</i> ain't never found time to pass any summers."</p> +<p>The wanderer expressed a proper regret for this decadence. Mr. +Keyts reverted bitterly to the Bon Ton market:—</p> +<p>"Good name for a tooth powder, or a patent necktie, or an +egg-beater. But a butcher-shop!—why, it's a <i>hell</i> of a +name for a butcher-shop!"</p> +<p>The wanderer expressed perfect sympathy with this view of the +shop legend, and remarked, "By the way, whose big house is that +with the columns in front, up where the Prouse and old Blake houses +used to be?"</p> +<p>The face of Mr. Keyts became pleasanter.</p> +<p>"Oh, that?—that's Cal Blake's—Major Blake's, you +know. He married a girl that come in here from the South with her +mother. I guess that was after you got out of here. They tore down +the two houses and built that big one. They say it's like them +Southern houses, but I don't know. It seems awful plain up the +front of it. Cal's all right, though. I guess mebbe he built the +house kind of bare that way to please his wife and his +mother-in-law. I'll bet if he'd had his own way, there'd be some +brackets and fret work on the front to liven it up some. But I'd a +done just like him in his place, I would, by Gee! So would you if +you seen his wife. <i>Say!</i> but never mind; you wait right here. +She'll drive up to git Cal from his office at +four-thirty—it's right across there over the bank where that +young fellow is settin' in the window—that's young Cal +Denney, studyin' law with Blake. You just wait and see—she'll +drive up in about six minutes."</p> +<p>The wanderer waited, out of pure cordiality to Mr. Keyts. The +prospect was not exciting, but the simple faith of the villagers +that outsiders must share their interest in local concerns has +always seemed too touching a thing to wreck.</p> +<p>Within the six minutes mentioned by Mr. Keyts the diurnal +happening to which he attached such importance was observed. A +woman (the younger of the two seen in the phaeton) drove up for +Major Calvin Blake; a youngish rather than a young woman, slight, +with an effect of stateliness, and not unattractive. Her husband, a +tall and pleasant enough looking man, came down the stairs, and +when he saw the woman his face lighted swiftly—and rather +wonderfully, when one considers that she was not unexpected. They +drove away.</p> +<p>The wanderer was not disposed to minimize the incident, however +far he might fall short of Westley Keyts's appreciation. But he had +been long absent from the Little Country, and the people of to-day +were strange and unimportant. He preferred to revive, as best he +might, the days of his own simple faith in the town's sufficiency; +days when the world beyond the Little Country was but a place from +which to order merchandise, or into which, at the most, adventurous +Arcadians dared brief journeys for profit or a doubtful pleasure; +the days of a boy's Little Arcady, that existed no more save as a +wraith in remembering minds.</p> + + + + + + + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10358 ***</div> +</body> +</html> |