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diff --git a/old/11309-h/001.png b/old/11309-h/001.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9dd5270 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/11309-h/001.png diff --git a/old/11309-h/002.png b/old/11309-h/002.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..61ea2bd --- /dev/null +++ b/old/11309-h/002.png diff --git a/old/11309-h/11309-h.htm b/old/11309-h/11309-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ac567ea --- /dev/null +++ b/old/11309-h/11309-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,6036 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content= + "text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Booming Of Acre Hill, by John Kendrick Bangs. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + <!-- + * { font-family: Georgia;} + P { text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; + font-family: Verdana; } + HR { width: 33%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em;} + BODY{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%;} +p.poetry {margin-left: 2em; + text-indent: 0em;} +p.poetry4 {margin-left: 4em; + text-indent: 0em;} +p.letter {margin-left: 20%; + margin-right: 20%;} +p.right-letter {margin-left: 20%; +margin-right: 20%; +text-align: right;} +.tpv {text-align: center;} +.linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .note {margin-left: 2em; margin-right: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} /* block indent */ + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; right: 100%; font-size: 8pt; justify: right;} /* page numbers */ + // --> + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's The Booming of Acre Hill, by John Kendrick Bangs + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Booming of Acre Hill + And Other Reminiscences of Urban and Suburban Life + +Author: John Kendrick Bangs + +Release Date: February 26, 2004 [EBook #11309] +[Date last updated: November 19, 2004] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BOOMING OF ACRE HILL *** + + + + +Produced by Audrey Longhurst, Michael Ciesielski and PG Distributed +Proofreaders + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<h1>THE BOOMING OF ACRE HILL</h1> + +<h2><i>and Other Reminiscences of +Urban and Suburban Life</i></h2> + +<a name="IMG_ILL_NEVER_NEVER"></a><p align="center"><img src="001.png" alt=""I'LL NEVER, NEVER, NEVER, SO LONG AS I LIVE""></p> + +<h1>The Booming of +Acre Hill</h1> + +<h3>By</h3> + +<h2>John Kendrick Bangs</h2> + +<p class="tpv">Illustrated By C. Dana Gibson<br /> + +Published in New York and London, 1902.</p> + +<br /> + +<p class="tpv">TO<br /> + +WILLIAM LIVERMORE KINGMAN,<br /> + +WITH AFFECTIONATE REGARDS</p> + +<p>These stories by Mr. Bangs have appeared +from time to time in <i>The Ladies Home Journal, +The Woman's Home Companion</i>, and the various +publications of Messrs. HARPER & BROTHERS.</p> + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<a href="#THE_BOOMING_OF_ACRE_HILL"><b>THE BOOMING OF ACRE HILL</b></a><br /> + <a href="#THE_STRANGE_MISADVENTURES_OF_AN_ORGAN"><b>THE STRANGE MISADVENTURES OF AN ORGAN</b></a><br /> + <a href="#THE_PLOT_THAT_FAILED"><b>THE PLOT THAT FAILED</b></a><br /> + <a href="#THE_BASE_INGRATITUDE_OF_BARKIS_MD"><b>THE BASE INGRATITUDE OF BARKIS, M.D.</b></a><br /> + <a href="#THE_UTILITARIAN_MR_CARRAWAY"><b>THE UTILITARIAN MR. CARRAWAY</b></a><br /> + <a href="#THE_BOOK_SALES_OF_MR_PETERS"><b>THE BOOK SALES OF MR. PETERS</b></a><br /> + <a href="#THE_VALOR_OF_BRINLEY"><b>THE VALOR OF BRINLEY</b></a><br /> + <a href="#WILKINS"><b>WILKINS</b></a><br /> + <a href="#THE_MAYOR'S_LAMPS"><b>THE MAYOR'S LAMPS</b></a><br /> + <a href="#THE_BALANCE_OF_POWER"><b>THE BALANCE OF POWER</b></a><br /> + <a href="#JARLEY'S_EXPERIMENT"><b>JARLEY'S EXPERIMENT</b></a><br /> + <a href="#JARLEY'S_THANKSGIVING"><b>JARLEY'S THANKSGIVING</b></a><br /> + <a href="#HARRY_AND_MAUDE_AND_ImdashALSO_JAMES"><b>HARRY AND MAUDE AND I—ALSO JAMES</b></a><br /> + <a href="#AN_AFFINITIVE_ROMANCE"><b>AN AFFINITIVE ROMANCE</b></a><br /> +<div style="margin-left: 2em;">I. MR. AUGUSTUS RICHARDS'S IDEAL +<br />II. MISS HENDERSON'S STANDARD +<br />III. A GLANCE AT MISS FLORA HENDERSON HERSELF +<br />IV. A BRIEF GLIMPSE OF MR. AUGUSTUS RICHARDS +<br />V. CONCLUSION<br /> </div> +<a href="#MRS_UPTON'S_DEVICE"><b>MRS. UPTON'S DEVICE</b></a><br /> +<div style="margin-left: 2em;">I. THE RESOLVE<br /> +II. A SUCCESSFUL CASE<br /> +III. A SET-BACK<br /> +IV. THE DEVICE <br /></div> + + +<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + +<a href="#IMG_ILL_NEVER_NEVER"><b>"I'LL NEVER, NEVER, NEVER, SO LONG AS I LIVE" +</b></a><br /> +<a href="#IMG_DURING_THE_INTERMEZZO"><b>DURING THE INTERMEZZO</b></a> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="THE_BOOMING_OF_ACRE_HILL"></a><h2>THE BOOMING OF ACRE HILL</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Acre Hill ten years ago was as void of houses as the primeval forest. +Indeed, in many ways it suggested the primeval forest. Then the Acre +Hill Land Improvement Company sprang up in a night, and before the +bewildered owners of its lovely solitudes and restful glades, who had +been paying taxes on their property for many years, quite grasped the +situation they found that they had sold out, and that their old-time +paradise was as surely lost to them as was Eden to Adam and Eve.</p> + +<p>To-day Acre Hill is gridironed with macadamized streets that are lined +with houses of an architecture of various degrees of badness. Where +birds once sang, and squirrels gambolled, and stray foxes lurked, the +morning hours are made musical by the voices of milkmen, and the +squirrels have given place to children and nurse-maids. Where sturdy +oaks stood like sentinels guarding the forest folk from intrusion from +the outside world now stand tall wooden poles with glaring white +electric lights streaming from their tops. And the soughing of the winds +in the trees has given place to the clang of the bounding trolley. All +this is the work of the Acre Hill Land Improvement Company.</p> + +<p>Yet if, as I have said, the Acre Hill Land Improvement Company sprang up +in a night, it passed many sleepless nights before it received the +rewards which come to him who destroys Nature. And when I speak of a +corporation passing sleepless nights I do so advisedly, for at the +beginning of its career the Acre Hill Land Improvement Company consisted +of one man—a mild-mannered man who had previously labored in similar +enterprises, and whose name was called blessed in a thousand +uncomfortable houses in uncomfortable suburbs elsewhere, that, like Acre +Hill, had once been garden spots, but had been "improved." Even a +professional improver of land finds sleep difficult to woo at the +beginning of such an enterprise. In the first instance, when one buys +land, giving a mortgage in full payment therefor, with the land as +security, one appears to have assumed a moderately heavy burden. Then, +when to this one adds the enormous expense of cutting streets through +the most beautiful of the sylvan glades, the building of sewers, and the +erection of sample houses, to say nothing of the strain upon the +intellect in the selection of names for the streets and lanes and +circles that spring into being, one cannot but wonder how the master +mind behind it all manages to survive.</p> + +<p>But the Acre Hill Land Improvement Company did survive, and Dumfries +Corners watched its progress with much interest. Regrets were expressed +when some historic knoll was levelled in order to provide a nice flat +space for a public square. Youngsters who had bagged many a partridge on +Acre Hill felt like weeping when one stretch of bush after another was +cut ruthlessly away in order that a pretentious-looking structure, the +new home of the Acre Hill Country Club, might be erected. Lovers sighed +when certain noble old oaks fraught with sentimental associations fell +before the unsentimental axes of the Improvement Company; and +numberless young Waltons muttered imprecations upon the corporation that +filled in with stone and ashes the dear old pond that once gave forth +fish in great abundance, and through earthen pipes diverted the running +brook, that hitherto had kept it full, into a brand-new sewer.</p> + +<p>These lovers of nature could not understand the great need of our +constantly growing population for uncomfortable houses in inconvenient +suburbs, and in their failure to comprehend they became cavilers. But +others—those who admire the genius which enables a man to make +unproductive land productive, who hail as benefactor one who supplants a +profitless oak of a thousand years' standing with a thriving +butcher-shop—these people understood what was being done for Dumfries +Corners, but wondered how the venture was to be made profitable. There +were already more vacant houses in Dumfries Corners than could be +rented, more butcher-shops than could be supported, more clubs than +could be run without a deficit. But the Acre Hill Land Improvement +Company went on, and within three years paradise had become earth, and +the mild-mannered and exceedingly amiable gentleman who had replaced the +homes of the birds with some fifteen or twenty houses for small +families could look about him and see greater results than ever greeted +the eyes of Romulus in the days of the great Rome Land Improvement +Company.</p> + +<p>Most wonderful of all, he was still solvent! But a city is not a city, +nor, in its own degree, a suburb a suburb, without inhabitants; and +while to a mind like that back of the Acre Hill Land Improvement Company +it is seemingly a moderately easy task to lay out a suburb in so far as +its exterior appointments are concerned, the rub comes in the getting of +citizens. A Standard Oil magnate can build a city if he is willing to +spend the money, but all the powers of heaven and earth combined cannot +manufacture offhand a citizenship. In an emergency of this nature most +land improvement companies would have issued pretty little pamphlets, +gotten up in exquisite taste, full of beautiful pictures and bubbling +over with enthusiastic text, all based upon possibilities rather than +upon realities.</p> + +<p>But the Acre Hill Land Improvement Company was sincere and honest. It +believed in advertising what it had; it believed in dilating somewhat on +the possibilities, but it was too honest to claim for itself virtues it +did not possess.</p> + +<p>So it tried different methods. The Acre Hill Country Club was the first +of these, and a good idea it was. It was successful from the start, +socially. Great numbers attended the entertainments and dances, although +these were rather poorly conducted. Still, the Country Club was a grand +success. It gave much and received nothing. Dumfries Corners, reluctant +to approve of anything, approved of it.</p> + +<p>But no lots were sold! The Acre Hill Land Improvement Company was +willing to make itself popular—very willing. Didn't mind giving +Dumfries Corners people free entertainment, but—lots didn't sell. What +is the use of paying the expenses of a club if lots don't sell? This was +a new problem for the company to consider. There were sixteen houses +ready for occupancy, and consuming interest at a terrible rate, but no +one came to look at them. Acre Hill was a charming spot, no doubt, but +for some unknown reason or other it failed to take hold of the popular +fancy, despite the attractions of the club.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the head of the institution had an idea. In the great +metropolis there was an impecunious and popular member of Uppertendom +whose name had been appearing in the society journals with great +frequency for years. He formerly had been prosperous, but now he was +down financially; yet society still received and liked him, for he had +many good points and was fundamentally what the world calls a good +fellow.</p> + +<p>"Why not send for Jocular Jimson Jones?" suggested the head and leading +spirit of the Improvement Company. "We can offer him one of our +cottages, and pay his debts if he has any, if he will live here and give +us the benefit of his social prestige."</p> + +<p>The suggestion was received with enthusiasm. Mr. Jones was summoned, +came and inspected the cottage, and declined. He really couldn't, you +know. Of course he was down, but not quite down to the level of a +cottage of that particular kind. He still had plenty of friends whom he +could visit and who would be charmed to entertain him in the style to +which he was accustomed. Why, therefore, should he do this thing, and +bring himself down to the level of the ordinary commuter? No, indeed. +Not he! The Directors saw the point, and next offered him—and this time +he accepted—the free use of the residence of one of the officers of the +company, a really handsome, pretentious structure, with a commanding +view, stable, green-houses, graceful lawns, and all other appurtenances +of a well-appointed country seat. In addition to the furnishing of the +house in proper taste, they put coal in the cellar and fly-screens in +the windows. They filled the residence with servants, and indorsed the +young person at the grocer's and butcher's. They bought him a surrey and +a depot wagon. They bought him horses and they stocked him well with +fine cigars. They paid his tailor's bills, and sundry other pressing +monetary affairs were funded. In fact, the Acre Hill Land Improvement +Company set Jocular Jimson Jones up and then gave him <i>carte blanche</i> to +entertain; and inasmuch as Jocular had a genius for entertaining, it is +hardly necessary to say that he availed himself of his opportunity.</p> + +<p>During that first summer at Acre Hill Mr. Jones had the best time of his +life. His days were what the vulgar term "all velvet." His new residence +was so superb that it restored his credit in the metropolis, and city +"swells," to whom he was under social obligation, went home, after +having been paid in kind, wondering if Jocular Jimson Jones had +unearthed somewhere a recently deceased rich uncle. He gave suppers of +most lavish sort. He had vaudeville shows at the club-house, with talent +made up of the most exclusive young men and women of the city. The +Amateur Thespians of the Borough of Manhattan gave a whole series of +performances at the club during the autumn, and by slow degrees the +society papers began to take notice. Acre Hill began to be known as "a +favorite resort of the 400." Nay, even the sacred 150 had penetrated to +its very core, wonderingly, however, for none knew how Jocular Jimson +Jones could do it. Still, they never declined an invitation. As a +natural result the market for Acre Hill lots grew active. The sixteen +cottages were sold, and the purchasers found themselves right in the +swim. It was the easiest thing in the world to get into society if you +only knew how. Jocular Jimson Jones was a fine, approachable, neighborly +person, and at the Country Club dances was quite as attentive to the +hitherto unknown Mrs. Scraggs as he was to Mrs. John Jacob Wintergreen, +the acknowledged leader of the 400. Mrs. Wintergreen, too, was not +unapproachable. She talked pleasantly during a musicale at the +club-house with Mr. Scraggs, and said she hoped some day to have the +pleasure of meeting Mrs. Scraggs; and when Scraggs, in response, said he +would go and get her she most amiably begged him not to leave her alone.</p> + +<p>Months went by, and where sixteen empty houses had been, there were now +sixty all occupied, and lots were going like hot cakes. Tuxedo was in +the shade. Lenox was dying. Newport was dead. Society flocked to Acre +Hill and hobnobbed with Acre Hillians. Acre Hillians became somewhat +proud of themselves, and rather took to looking down upon Dumfries +Corners people. Dumfries Corners people were nice, and all that, but +not particularly interesting in the sense that "our set," with Jocular +Jimson Jones at the head of it, was interesting.</p> + +<p>Then came the County Ball. This Jocular engineered himself, and the +names of the lady patrons were selected from the oldest and the newest +on the list. Mrs. Wintergreen's name led, of course, but Mrs. Scraggs' +name was there too, sandwiched in between those of Mrs. Van +Cortlandtuyvel and Mrs. Gardenior, of Gardenior's Island, representing +two families which would carry social weight either in Boston or the +"other side of Market Street." There were four exalted names from the +city, one from Dumfries Corners, and seven from Acre Hill.</p> + +<p>Then more lots sold, and still more, and then, alas, came the end! +Jocular Jimson Jones was too successful.</p> + +<p>After two years of glory the social light of Acre Hill went out. The +Acre Hill Land Improvement Company retired from the business. All its +lots were sold, and, of course, there was no further need for the +services of Jocular Jimson Jones. His efforts were crowned with success. +His mission was accomplished, but he moved away—I think regretfully, +for, after all, he had found the Acre Hill people a most likable +lot—but it was inevitable that, there being no more fish to catch, the +anglers needed no bait, and Jocular Jimson had to go. Where he has gone +to there is no one who knows. He has disappeared wholly, even in the +metropolis, and, most unfortunately for Acre Hill, with Jocular Jimson +Jones have departed also all its social glories. None of the elect come +to its dances any more. The amateur thespians of the exclusive set no +longer play on the stage of its club-house, and it was only last week +that Mrs. John Jacob Wintergreen passed Mr. Scraggs on the street with a +cold glare of unrecognition.</p> + +<p>Possibly when Acre Hill reads this it will understand, possibly not.</p> + +<p>Dumfries Corners people understood it right along, but then they always +were a most suspicious lot, and fond of an amusing spectacle that cost +them nothing.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="THE_STRANGE_MISADVENTURES_OF_AN_ORGAN"></a><h2>THE STRANGE MISADVENTURES OF AN ORGAN</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Carson was a philosopher, and on the whole it was a great blessing that +he was so. No man needed to be possessor of a philosophical temperament +more than he, for, in addition to being a resident of Dumfries Corners, +Carson had other troubles which, to an excitable nature, would have made +life a prolonged period of misery. He was the sort of a man to whom +irritating misfortunes of the mosquito order have a way of coming. To +some of us it seemed as if a spiteful Nature took pleasure in pelting +Carson with petty annoyances, none of them large enough to excite +compassion, many of them of a sort to provoke a quiet smile. Of all the +dogs in the neighborhood it was always his dog that got run into the +pound, although it was equally true that Carson's dog was one of the few +that were properly licensed. If he bought a new horse something would +happen to it before a week had elapsed; and how his coachman once ripped +off the top of his depot wagon by driving it under a loose telephone +wire is still one of the stories of the vicinity in which he lives. +Anything out of the way in the shape of trouble seemed to choose the +Carson household for experimental purposes. He was the medium by which +new varieties of irritations were introduced to an ungrateful world, but +such was his nature that, given the companionship of Herbert Spencer and +a cigar, he could be absolutely counted on not to murmur.</p> + +<p>This disposition to accept the trials and tribulations which came upon +him without a passionate outburst was not by any means due to +amiability. Carson was of too strong a character to be continually +amiable. He merely exercised his philosophy in meeting trouble. He +boiled within, but presented a calm, unruffled front to the world, +simply because to do otherwise would involve an expenditure of nervous +force which he did not consider to be worth while.</p> + +<p>I can never forget the sense of admiring regard which I experienced +when in Genoa, while he and I were about to enter our banker's together, +he slipped upon a bit of banana peeling, bruising his knee and +destroying his trouser leg. I should have indulged in profane allusions +to the person who had thoughtlessly thrown the peeling upon the ground +if by some mischance the accident had happened to me. Carson, however, +did nothing of the sort, but treated me to a forcible abstract +consideration of the unthinking habits of the masses.</p> + +<p>The unknown individual who was responsible for the accident did not +enter into the question; no one was consigned to everlasting torture in +the deepest depths of purgatory; a calm, dispassionate presentation of +an abstraction was all that greeted my ears. The practice of +thoughtlessness was condemned as a thing entirely apart from the +practitioner, and as a tendency needing correction. Inwardly, I know he +swore; outwardly, he was as serene as though nothing untoward had +happened to him. It was then that I came to admire Carson. Before that +he had my affectionate regard in fullest measure, but now admiration +for his deeper qualities set in, and it has in no sense diminished as +time has passed. Once, and once only, have I known him to depart from +his philosophical demeanor, and that one departure was, I think, +justified by the situation, since it was the culminating point of a +series of aggravations, to fail to yield to which would have required a +more than human strength.</p> + +<p>The incident to which I refer was in connection with a fine organ, which +at large expense Carson had had built in his house, for, like all +philosophers, Carson has a great fondness for music, and is himself a +musician of no mean capacity. I have known him to sit down under a +parlor-lamp and read over the score of the "Meistersinger" just as +easily as you or I would peruse one of the lighter novels of the day. +This was one of his refuges. When his spirit was subjected to an extreme +tension he relieved his soul by flying to the composers; to use his own +very bad joke, when he was in need of composure he sought out the +"composures." As time progressed, however, and the petty annoyances grew +more numerous, the merely intellectual pleasure of the writings of +Wagner and Handel and Mozart possibly failed to suffice, and an organ +was contracted for.</p> + +<p>"I enjoy reading the music," said he as we sat and talked over his plan, +"but sometimes—very often, in fact—I feel as if something ought to +shriek, and I'm going to have an organ of my own to do it for me."</p> + +<p>So, as I have said, the organ was contracted for, was built, and an +additional series of trials began. Upon a very important occasion the +organ declined to shriek, although every effort to persuade it to +perform the functions for which it was designed was made. Forty or fifty +very charming people were gathered together to be introduced to the +virtues of the new instrument—for Carson was not the kind of man to +keep to himself the good things which came into his life; he shared all +his blessings, while keeping his woes to himself; a well-known virtuoso +was retained to set forth the possibilities of the acquisition, and all +was going as "merry as a marriage bell" when suddenly there came a +wheeze, and the fingers of the well-known virtuoso were powerless to +elicit the harmonious shrieks which all had come to hear.</p> + +<p>It was a sad moment, but Carson was equal to the occasion.</p> + +<p>"Something's out of gear," he said, with a laugh due rather to his +philosophical nature than to mirth. "I'm afraid we'll have to finish on +the piano."</p> + +<br /> + +<p>And so we did, and a delightful evening we had of it, although many of +us went home wondering what on earth was the matter with the organ.</p> + +<p>A few days later I met Carson on the train and the mystery was solved.</p> + +<p>"The trouble was with the water-pipes," he explained. "They were put in +wrong, and the location of the house is such that every time Colonel +Hawkins, on the other side of the street, takes a bath, all the water +that flows down the hill is diverted into his tub."</p> + +<p>I tried not to laugh.</p> + +<p>"You'll have to enter into an agreement with the Colonel," I said. "Make +him promise not to bathe between certain hours."</p> + +<p>"That's a good idea," said Carson, smiling, "but after all I guess I'd +better change the pipes. Heaven forbid that in days like these I should +seek to let any personal gratification stand between another man and the +rare virtue of cleanliness."</p> + +<p>Several weeks went by, and men were busily employed in seeing that the +water supply needed for a proper running of the organ came direct from +the mains, instead of coming from a pipe of limited capacity used in +common by a half dozen or more residents of a neighboring side street.</p> + +<p>Somewhere about the end of the fourth week Carson invited me to dinner. +The organ was all right again, he said. The water supply was sufficient, +and if I cared to I might dine with him, and afterward spend an evening +sitting upon the organ bench while Carson himself manipulated the keys. +I naturally accepted the invitation, since, in addition to his other +delightful qualities, Carson is a past grand-master in the art of giving +dinners. He is a man with a taste, and a dinner good enough for him is a +thing to arouse the envy of the gods. Furthermore, as I have already +said, he is a musician of no mean order, and I know of no greater +pleasure than that of sitting by his side while he "potters through a +score," as he puts it. But there was a disappointment in store for us. I +called at the appointed hour and found the household more or less in +consternation. The cook had left, and a dinner of "cold things" +confronted us.</p> + +<p>"She couldn't stand the organ," explained Carson. "She said it got on to +her nerves—'rumblin' like.'"</p> + +<p>I gazed upon him in silent sympathy as we dined on cold roast beef, +stuffed olives, and ice cream.</p> + +<p>"This is serious," my host observed as we sat over our coffee and cigars +after the repast. "That woman was the only decent cook we've managed to +secure in seven years, and, by Jingo, the minute she gets on to my taste +the organ gets on to her nerves and she departs!"</p> + +<p>"One must eat," I observed.</p> + +<p>"That's just it," said Carson. "If it comes to a question of cook or +organ the organ will have to go. She was right about it, though. The +organ does rumble like the dickens. Some of the bass notes make the +house buzz like an ocean-steamer blowing off steam."</p> + +<p>It was a picturesque description, for I had noticed at times that when +the organ was being made to shriek fortissimo every bit of panelling in +the house seemed to rattle, and if a huge boiler of some sort suffering +from internal disturbance had been growling down in the cellar, the +result would have been quite similar.</p> + +<p>"It may work out all right in time," Carson said. "The thing is new yet, +and you can't expect it to be mellow all at once. What I'm afraid of, +apart from the inability of our cook to stand the racket, is that this +quivering will structurally weaken the house. What do you think?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know," I said. "Some of the wainscot panels rattle a bit, +but I imagine the house will stand it unless you go in too much for +Wagner. 'Tannhäuser' or 'Siegfried' might shake a few beams loose, but +lighter music, I think, can be indulged in with impunity."</p> + +<p>Time did not serve, as Carson had hoped, to mellow things. Indeed, the +succeeding weeks brought more trouble, and most of it came through the +organ. Some of the rattling panels, in spite of every effort to make +them fast, rattled the more. One night when the servants were alone in +the house, of its own volition the organ sent forth, to break the still +hours, a blood-curdling basso-profundo groan that suggested ghosts to +their superstitious minds. The housemaid came to regard the instrument +as something uncanny, and, even as the cook had done before her, shook +the dust of the house of Carson from her feet.</p> + +<p>Then a rat crawled into one of the pipes—Carson was unable to ascertain +which—and died there, with results that baffle description. I doubt if +Wagner himself could have expressed the situation in his most inspired +moments. Still Carson was philosophical.</p> + +<p>"I'll play a requiem to the rodent," he said, "that will make him turn +over in his grave, wherever that interesting spot may be."</p> + +<p>This he did, and the effect was superb, and no doubt the deceased did +turn over in his grave, for the improvisation called into play every +pipe on the whole instrument. However, I could see that this constant +pelting at the hands of an unkind fate through the medium of his most +cherished possession was having its effect upon Carson's hitherto +impregnable philosophy. When he spoke of the organ it was with a tone of +suppressed irritation which boded ill, and finally I was not surprised +to hear that he had offered to give the organ away.</p> + +<p>"After all," he said, "I made a mistake—flying so high. A man doesn't +want a church-organ in his house any more than he wants an elephant for +a lap-dog. I've offered it to the Unitarian Church."</p> + +<p>I felt a little hurt about this, for my own church was badly in need of +an instrument of that nature, but I said nothing, and considering the +amount of trouble the organ had given I got over my regret when I +realized that the Unitarian Church, and not mine, was shortly to have +it. In this, however, I was mistaken, for, after due deliberation, the +Unitarians decided that the organ was so very large that they'd have to +build a new church to go with it, and so declined it with thanks.</p> + +<p>Carson bit his lip and then offered it to us. "Don't seem to be able to +give it away," he said. "But I'll try again. You tell your vestry that +if they want it they can have it. I'll take it out and put it in the +barn up in the hay-loft. They can take it or leave it. It will cost them +cartage and the expense of putting it up."</p> + +<p>I thanked him, and joyously referred the matter to the vestry. At first +the members of that body were as pleased as I was, but after a few +minutes of jubilation the Chairman of the Finance Committee asked; "How +much will it cost to get this thing into shape?"</p> + +<p>Nobody knew, and finally the acceptance of the gift was referred to a +committee consisting of the Chairman of the Finance Committee, the +Chairman of the Music Committee, and myself, with full power to act.</p> + +<p>Inquiry showed that the cost of every item in connection with the +acceptance of the gift would amount to about a thousand dollars, and we +called upon Carson to complete the arrangement. He received us +cordially. We thanked him for his generosity, and were about to accept +the gift finally, when the Chairman of the Finance Committee said:</p> + +<p>"It is very good of you, Mr. Carson, to give us this organ. Heaven knows +we need it, but it will cost us about a thousand dollars to put it in."</p> + +<p>"So I judged," said Carson. "But when it is in you'll have a +thirty-five-hundred-dollar organ."</p> + +<p>"Splendid!" ejaculated the Chairman of the Music Committee.</p> + +<p>"The great difficulty that now confronts us," said the financier, "is as +to how we shall raise that money. The church is very poor."</p> + +<p>"I presume it is a good deal of a problem in these times," acquiesced +Carson. "Ah—"</p> + +<p>"It's a most baffling one," continued the financier. "I suppose, Mr. +Carson," he added, "that if we do put it in and pass around a +subscription paper, we can count on you for—say two hundred and fifty +dollars?"</p> + +<p>I stood aghast, for I saw the thread of Carson's philosophy snap.</p> + +<p>"What?" he said, with an effort to control himself.</p> + +<p>"I say I suppose we can count on you for a subscription of two hundred +and fifty dollars," repeated the financier.</p> + +<p>There was a pause that seemed an eternity in passing. Carson's face +worked convulsively, and the seeming complacency of the Chairman of the +Finance Committee gave place to nervous apprehension as he watched the +color surge through the cheeks and temples of our host.</p> + +<p>He thought Carson was about to have a stroke of apoplexy.</p> + +<p>I tried to think of something to say that might relieve the strain, but +it wouldn't come, and on the whole I rather enjoyed the spectacle of the +strong philosopher struggling with inclination, and I think the +philosopher might have conquered had not the Chairman of the Music +Committee broken in jocularly with:</p> + +<p>"Unless he chooses to make it five hundred dollars, eh?" And he grinned +maddeningly as he added: "If you'll give five hundred dollars we'll put +a brass plate on it and call it 'The Carson Memorial,' eh? Ha—ha—ha."</p> + +<p>Carson rose from his seat, walked into the hall and put on his hat.</p> + +<p>"Mr.—ah—Blank," said he to the financier, "would you and Mr. Hicks +mind walking down to the church with me?"</p> + +<p>"Say, he's going to put it in for us!" whispered Hicks, the Chairman of +the Music Committee, rubbing his hands gleefully.</p> + +<p>"Don't you want me, Carson?" I asked, rising.</p> + +<p>"No—you stay here!" he replied, shortly.</p> + +<p>And then the three went out, while I lit a cigar and pottered about +Carson's library. In half an hour he returned alone. His face was red +and his hand trembled slightly, but otherwise he had regained his +composure.</p> + +<p>"Well?" said I.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm going to put it up," said he.</p> + +<p>"Now—see here, Carson," I remonstrated. It seemed so like a rank +imposition on his generosity. To give the organ was enough, without +putting him to the expense of erecting it.</p> + +<p>"Don't interrupt," said he. "I'm not going to put it up in the +organ-loft, as you suppose, but in a place where it is likely to be +quite as much appreciated."</p> + +<p>"And that?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"In the hay-loft," he replied.</p> + +<p>"I don't blame you," said I, after a pause.</p> + +<p>"Neither do I," said he.</p> + +<p>"But why did you go down to the church?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Well," he explained, chuckling in spite of himself. "It was this way. +My grandfather, I have been told, used to be able to express himself +profanely without using a profane word, but I can't, and there were one +or two things I wanted to say to those men that wouldn't go well with +the decorations of my house, and which couldn't very well be said to a +guest in my house."</p> + +<p>"But, man alive, you didn't go to the church to do your swearing?"</p> + +<p>"No," he answered. "I did it on the way down; and," he added, +enthusiastically, "I did it exceeding well."</p> + +<p>"But why the church?" I persisted.</p> + +<p>"I thought after what I had to say to them," said he, "that they might +need a little religious consolation."</p> + +<p>And with that the subject was dropped.</p> + +<p>The organ, as Carson threatened, was transferred to the hay-loft and not +to the church, and as for the two Chairmen, they have several times +expressed themselves to the effect that Carson is a very irritable, not +to say profane, person.</p> + +<p>But I am still inclined to think him a philosopher. Under the +provocation any man of a less philosophical temperament might have +forgotten the laws of hospitality and cursed his offending guests in his +own house.</p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="THE_PLOT_THAT_FAILED"></a><h2>THE PLOT THAT FAILED</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Among the most promising residents of Dumfries Corners some ten years +ago was a certain Mr. Richard Partington Smithers, whose brilliant début +and equally sudden extinguishment in the field of literary endeavor have +given rise from time to time to no little discussion. He was young, very +young, indeed, at the time of his great literary success, and his +friends and neighbors prophesied great things for him. Yet nothing has +since come from his pen, and many have wondered why.</p> + +<p>Thanks to Mr. Smithers himself I am enabled to make public the story of +his sudden withdrawal from the ranks of the immortals when on the very +threshold of the temple of fame.</p> + +<p>Ten years have changed his point of view materially, and an experience +that once seemed tragedy to him is now in his eyes sufficiently tinged +with comedy, and his own position among us is so secure that he is +willing that the story of his failure should go forth.</p> + +<p>After trying many professions Smithers had become a man of schemes. He +devised plans that should enrich other people. Unfortunately, he sold +these to other people on a royalty basis, and so failed to grow rich +himself. If he had only sold his plans outright and collected on the +spot he might sometime have made something; but this he did not do, and +as a consequence he rarely made anything that was at all considerable, +and finally, to keep the wolf out of his dining-room, he was forced to +take up poetry, that being in his estimation the last as well as the +easiest resource of a well-ordered citizen.</p> + +<p>"I always threatened to take up poetry when all else had failed me," he +said to himself; "therefore I will now proceed to take up poetry. +Writing is purely manual labor, anyhow. Given a pad, a pencil, and +perseverance—three very important p's—and I can produce a fourth, a +poem, in short order. Sorry I didn't get to the end of my other ropes +before, now that I think of it."</p> + +<p>And so he sat down and took up poetry.</p> + +<p>He put it down again, however, very quickly.</p> + +<p>"Dear me!" he ejaculated. "Now, who'd have thought that? Here I have the +pencil and the pad and the perseverance, but I'm hanged if the poem is +quite as easy as I had supposed. These little conceits aren't so easy to +write, after all, even when they contain no ideas. Of course, it isn't +hard to say:</p> + +<p class="poetry">"'Sweet month of May, time of the violet wild,<br /> +The dandelion golden, and the mild<br /> +Ethereal sweetness of the blossoming trees,<br /> +The soft suggested calor of the breeze,<br /> +The ruby-breasted robin on the lawn,<br /> +The thrushes piping sweetly at the dawn,<br /> +The gently splashing waters by the weir,<br /> +The rose- and lilac-laden atmosphere'—</p> + +<p>"because, after all, it's nothing but a catalogue of the specialties of +May; but how the dickens to wind the thing up is what puzzles me. It's +too beautiful and truly poetic to be spoiled by a completing couplet +like:</p> + +<p class="poetry">"'And in the distant dam the croaking frog<br /> +Completes, O May, thy wondrous catalogue.'<br /></p> + +<p>"Nobody would take a thing like that—and pay for it; but what else can +be said? What do the violets wild, the dandelion, the ruby-breasted +robin, and the lilac-laden atmosphere and other features all do, I'd +like to know? What one of many verbs—oh, tut! Poetry very evidently is +not in my line, after all. I'll turn the vials of my vocabulary upon +essay-writing."</p> + +<p>Which Partington, as his friends called him, proceeded at once to do. He +applied himself closely to his desk for one whole morning, and wrote a +very long paper on "The Tendency of the Middle Ages Towards +Artificialism." Hardly one of the fifteen thousand words employed by him +in the construction of this paper held fewer than five syllables, and +one or two of them got up as high as ten, a fact which led Partington to +think that the editor of the <i>South American Quarterly Review</i> ought at +least to have the refusal of it. Apparently the editor of the <i>South +American Quarterly Review</i> was only too eager to have the refusal of it, +because he refused it, or so Partington observed in confidence to an +acquaintance, in less time than it could possibly have taken him to +read it. After that the essay became emulous of men like Stanley and Joe +Cook. It became a great traveller, but never failed to get back in +safety to its fond parent, Richard Partington Smithers, as our hero now +called himself. Finally, Partington did manage to realize something on +his essay—that is to say, indirectly—for after "The Tendency of the +Middle Ages Towards Artificialism" had gone the rounds of all the +reviews, monthlies, dailies, and weeklies in the country, its author +pigeon-holed it, and, stringing together the printed slips it had +brought back to him upon the various occasions of its return, he sent +these under the head of "How Editors Reject" to an evening journal in +Boston, whose readers could know nothing of the subject, for reasons +that are familiar to those who are acquainted with American letters. For +this he not only received the editor's thanks, but a six months' +subscription to the journal in question—the latter of which was useful, +since every night, excluding Sundays, its columns contained much +valuable information on such subjects as "How to Live on Fifty Dollars +a Year," "How to Knit an Afghan with One Needle," and "How Not to Become +a Novelist."</p> + +<p>Discouraged by the fate of his essay, Partington endeavored to get a +position on a railway somewhere as a conductor or brakeman; but failing +in this, he returned once more to his writing-table and wrote a novel. +This was the hardest work he had ever attempted. It took him quite a +week to think his story out and put it together; but when he had it done +he was glad he had stuck conscientiously to it, for the results really +seemed good to him. The book was charmingly written, he thought; so +charming, in fact, that he did not think it necessary to have a +type-written copy made of it before sending it out to the publishers. +Possibly this was a mistake. For a time Partington really believed it +was a mistake, because the publisher who saw it first returned it +without comment, prejudiced against it, no doubt, by the fact that it +came to him in the author's autograph. The second publisher was not so +rude. He said he would print it if Partington would advance one +thousand dollars to protect him against loss. The third publisher +evidently thought better of the book, for he only demanded protection to +the amount of seven hundred and fifty dollars, which, of course, +Partington could not pay; and in consequence <i>False but Fair</i> never saw +the light of day as a published book.</p> + +<p>"Is it rejected because of its length, its breadth, or what?" he had +asked the last publisher who had turned his back on the book.</p> + +<p>"Well, to tell you the truth, Mr. Smithers," the publisher had answered, +"all that our readers had to say about it—and the three who read it +agreed unanimously—was that the book is immature. You do not write like +an adult."</p> + +<p>"Thanks," said Partington, as he bowed himself out. "If that's the +truth, I'll try writing for juveniles. I'll sit right down to-night and +knock off a short story about 'Tommy and the Huckleberry-tree.' I don't +know whether huckleberries grow on trees or on huckles, but that will +make the tale all the more interesting. If they don't grow on trees +people will regard the story as romance. If they do grow on trees it +will be realism."</p> + +<p>True to his promise, that night Partington did write a story, and it +was, as he had said it should be, about "Tommy and the +Huckleberry-tree"; and so amusing did it appear to the editor of that +eminent juvenile periodical, <i>Nursery Days</i>, because of what he supposed +was the author's studied ignorance on the subject of huckleberries, that +it was accepted instanter, and the name of Richard Partington Smithers +shortly appeared in all the glory of type.</p> + +<p>Partington walked on air for at least a week after his effusion appeared +in print. He had visions night and day in which he seemed to see himself +the centre of the literary circle, and as he promenaded the avenue in +the afternoons he felt almost inclined to stop people who passed him by +to tell them who he was, and thus enable them to feast their eyes on one +whose name would shortly become a household word. All reasonable young +authors feel this way after their first draught at the soul-satisfying +spring of publicity. It is only that preposterous young person who was +born tired who fails to experience the sensations that were Partington's +that week; and at the end of the week, again like the reasonable young +author, he began to realize that immortality could not be gained by one +story treating of a fictitious Tommy and an imaginary huckleberry-tree, +and so he sat himself down at his desk once more, resolved this time to +clinch himself, as it were, in the public mind, with a tale of "Jimmie +and the Strawberry-mine." This story did not come as easily as the +other. In fact, Partington found it impossible to write more than a +third of the second tale that night. He couldn't bring his mind down to +it exactly, probably because his mind had been soaring so high since the +publication of his first effusion. For diversion as much as for anything +else during a lull in his flow of language he penned a short letter to +the editor of <i>Nursery Days</i>, and announced his intention to send the +story of "Jimmie and the Strawberry-mine" to him shortly—which was +unfortunate. If he had finished the story first and then sent it, it +might have been good enough to convince the editor against his judgment +that he ought to have it. A concrete story can often accomplish more +than an abstract idea. In this event it could not have accomplished +less, anyhow, for the editor promptly replied that he did not care for a +second story of that nature. There was no particular evidence in hand, +he said, that the children liked stories of that kind particularly, +adding that the first was only an experiment that it was not necessary +to repeat, and so on; polite, but unmistakably valedictory.</p> + +<p>"No evidence in hand that they are liked, eh? Well, how on earth, I +wonder," Partington said, angrily, to himself, "do they ever find +evidence that things are liked? Do they go about asking subscribers, or +what?"</p> + +<p>And then he picked up the issue of <i>Nursery Days</i> that had started him +along on his way to immortality, to console himself, at all events, with +the sight of his published story. In turning over the leaves of the +periodical his eye fell upon a page across the top of which ran a highly +ornate cut which indicated that there was printed the "Post-office +Department of <i>Nursery Days</i>," on perusing which Partington found a +number of communications and editorial responses like these:</p> + +<h4>I.</h4> + +<p class="letter">"DEAR POSTMASTER,—I have been taking <i>Nursery Days</i> since Christmas, so +I thought I would write you a letter. My birthday came a week ago +Thursday. I received a watch and chain, a glove-buttoner, a penknife, +and a set of ivory jackstraws. We have a cat at home whose name is +Rumpelstiltzken. He is very sleepy, and sleeps all day. He always picks +out the most comfortable chair, and then feels very much injured if we +turn him out. I like Bolivar Wiggins's story in your last paper very +much. Are you going to have any more stories by Bolivar Wiggins?</p> + +<p class="letter">"Your little friend, "HELEN CHECKERBY, aged seven.</p> + +<p class= "letter">"[We hope soon to have a new story from Mr. Wiggins, Helen. We wish we +could see your cat. He seems a very sensible cat.—EDITOR <i>Nursery +Days</i>.]"</p> +<br /> + +<h4>II.</h4> + +<p class="right-letter">"CANADA.</p> + +<p class="letter">I am a little girl nearly ten years old, and as I like your paper very +much I thought you would like a letter from me. Here is a cow's head I +drew. It is not very good, but I wanted to see if I would get a prize or +not. I have two little sisters; their names are Jennie and Fanny. I +hope I will see my letter in print. The stories I like best are Bolivar +Wiggins's story about 'Solemn Sophy' and his other one about 'Bertie's +Balloon.' Have you any more stories by him? I must close now, so +good-bye.</p> + +<p class="letter">"LILLIAN JAMES.</p> + +<p class="letter">"[Several, Lillian. Your cow is beautiful, and perhaps some day it will +appear in this column. Watch carefully, and maybe you will see +it.—EDITOR <i>Nursery Days</i>.]"</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said Partington, softly, as he read these effusions. "That is why +Bolivar Wiggins is permitted to cover so much space, eh? The children +like his stories well enough to write letters about him—or perhaps +Bolivar himself—ah!"</p> + +<p>The second "ah" uttered by Partington indicated that a thought had +flashed across his mind—a thought not particularly complimentary to +Bolivar Wiggins.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," he said, slowly, "Bolivar writes these letters to the editor +himself—and if Bolivar, why not I?"</p> + +<p>It was a tempting—alas, too tempting—opportunity to supply the editor +of <i>Nursery Days</i> with the needed evidence that stories of the "Tommy +and the Huckleberry-tree" order were the most popular literary novelty +of the day, and to it, in a moment of weakness, Partington succumbed. I +regret to have to record the fact that he passed the balance of the +night writing letters from fictitious "Sallies, aged six," "Warry and +Georgie, twins, aged twelve," and others dwelling in widely separated +sections of the country, to the number of at least two dozen, all of +which, being an expert penman, Partington wrote in a diversity of +juvenile hands that was worthy of a better cause. Here are two samples +of the letters he wrote that night:</p> + +<h4>I.</h4> + +<p class="right-letter">"NORWICH, CONNECTICUT.</p> + +<p class="letter"> +"I have taken the <i>Nursery Days</i> for one year, +and think it is a very nice paper. For pets I +have two cats, named Lady Tompkins and +Jimpsey. I have tried to solve the 'Caramel +Puzzle,' but think one answer is wrong. I go +to school, and there are forty-four scholars in +my room. My little kitty Jimpsey sleeps all day +long, and at night she is playful. She wakes +me up in the morning, and then waits till I get +up. Who is Mr. Smithers who wrote that beautiful +story about 'Tommy and the Huckleberry-tree'? +Everybody of all ages, from baby to my +grandmother, likes it and hopes you will print +more by that author.</p> + +<p class="letter">"SARAH WINKLETOP."</p> + + +<h4>II.</h4> + +<p class="right-letter">"YONKERS, N.Y.</p> + +<p class="letter">"Our Uncle Willie in New York sends us <i>Nursery +Days</i> every week. We like it immensely, +and every one tries to get the first reading of it. +"Tommy and the Huckleberry-tree" is a splendid +story. Papa bought six copies of <i>Nursery +Days</i> with that in it to send to my little cousins +in England.</p> + +<p class="letter">"JIMMIE CONWAY RHODES."</p> + +<p>Others were more laudatory of Partington's story, some less so, but each +demanded more of his work.</p> + +<p>These written, Partington made arrangements to have them posted from the +various towns wherein they were ostensibly written, and then, when they +had been posted, he chuckled slightly and sat down to await +developments.</p> + +<p>It took a trifle over one week for developments to develop, and then +they developed rapidly. Just eight days after his conception of this +magnificent scheme the postman whistled at Partington's door and left +this note:</p> + +<p class="right-letter">OFFICE OF NURSERY DAYS,</p> +<p class="right-letter">NEW YORK, <i>March</i> 16, 1889.</p> + +<p class="letter">"<i>Richard Partington Smithers, Esq</i>.:</p> + +<p class="letter">"DEAR SIR,—Can you call upon me some afternoon this week? Yours truly,</p> + +<p class="right-letter">THOMAS JACKSON TORPYHUE,</p> +<p class="right-letter">"Editor <i>Nursery Days</i>."</p> + +<p>"The bait is good, and I'll land the fish at once," said Partington, +his face wreathing with smiles. "I'll call upon Mr. Thomas Jackson +Torpyhue."</p> + +<p>And call he did. Two hours later he entered the sanctum of the editor of +<i>Nursery Days</i>.</p> + +<p>"Good-afternoon," he said, as he sat down at the editor's side.</p> + +<p>"Good-afternoon, Mr. Smithers," said Mr. Torpyhue. "I'm very glad to see +you."</p> + +<p>"I thought you'd be," began Partington, forgetting himself for a moment +in his triumph. "If that wasn't evidence enough that I—ah--- +oh—er—ah! Ahem! Why, certainly," he continued, suddenly recalling the +fact that as yet he could properly have no knowledge of the evidence in +question.</p> + +<p>The editor threw his head back and laughed, and Partington forced +himself to join him, nervously withal.</p> + +<p>"You have heard of the evidence have you?" asked Mr. Torpyhue.</p> + +<p>Partington gasped faintly, and said he thought not.</p> + +<p>"Well, it's very strange, Mr. Smithers," said Mr. Torpyhue, "but do you +know that you have developed into one of our most popular authors?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed?" queried Partington, pulling himself together and trying to +appear gratified.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. Here is a bundle of twenty-four letters all received within +three days. One of the letters calls you the best writer of short +stories of the day. Another, from Canada, written by a parent, says that +you have written one of the most delightful bits of juvenile humor that +he has seen in forty years."</p> + +<p>"How extremely flattering!" said Partington, faintly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, extremely," assented the editor, dryly. "And now, Mr. Smithers, +I'm going to do for you what this paper has never done even to its most +popular author in the past."</p> + +<p>"Now, my dear Mr. Torpyhue," began Partington, gaining courage, "I beg +you not to feel called upon to discriminate against your old favorites +in my favor. Your present rates of payment are entirely satisfac—"</p> + +<p>"You misunderstand me, Mr. Smithers," interrupted Mr. Torpyhue. "What +I'm going to do to you that I never before have done even to our most +popular author is to return to you at once every one of those highly +entertaining manuscripts you have favored us with—we receive so many +real letters from real children that, of course, we cannot afford to buy +from you purely fictitious ones. These of yours are excellently well +done, but you see my point. One does not pay for things that can be had +gratis. Perhaps later you will try us with something else," he added, +with a grin.</p> + +<p>Here Mr. Torpyhue paused, and Partington tried to think of something to +say. It was all so sudden, however, and, in spite of his misgivings, so +extremely unexpected, that his breath was taken away. He had neither +breath nor presence of mind enough left even to deny the allegation, and +when he did recover his breath he found himself walking dejectedly down +the stairs of the <i>Nursery Days</i> building with his bundle of encomia in +his hands.</p> + +<p>"I wonder how he caught on!" he groaned, as half an hour later he +entered his room and threw himself face downward on his couch.</p> + +<p>Investigation after dinner gave him a clue.</p> + +<p>Not one of the letters had been mailed from the town in which it had +been dated. The envelope containing the Washington letter bore the +Boston postmark. The Brooklyn missive had been sent from Chicago, that +from Norwich had been posted at Yonkers, and vice versa, and so on +through the whole list. Each and every one had, through some evil +chance, started wrong. In addition to this, Partington found that in a +forgetful moment he had appended to two of the communications an +editorial response promising more work from Mr. Smithers.</p> + +<p>"I must have been muddled by my success with 'Tommy and the +Huckleberry-tree,'" he sighed, as he cast the documents into the fire. +"If that's the effect literary honors have on me I'd better quit the +profession, which leaves only two things to be done. I shall have to +commit one of two crimes—suicide or matrimony. The question now is, +which?"</p> + +<p>He thought deeply for a moment, and then, putting on his hat and +overcoat, he turned off the gas and left the room.</p> + +<p>"I'll call on Harris, borrow a cent from him, and let the toss decide," +he said, as he passed out into the night.</p> + +<p>Is it really any wonder that Mr. Smithers has given up literature?</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="THE_BASE_INGRATITUDE_OF_BARKIS_MD"></a><h2>THE BASE INGRATITUDE OF BARKIS, M.D.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>The time has arrived when it is possibly proper that I should make a +note of the base ingratitude of Barkis, M.D. I have hesitated to do this +hitherto for several reasons, any one of which would prove a valid +excuse for my not doing so. To begin with, I have known Barkis ever +since he was a baby. I have tossed him in the air, to his own delight +and to the consternation of his mother, who feared lest I should fail to +catch him on his way down, or that I should underestimate the distance +between the top of his head and the ceiling on his way up. Later I have +held him on my knee and told him stories of an elevating nature—mostly +of my own composition—and have afterwards put these down upon paper and +sold them to syndicates at great profit. So that, in a sense, I am +beholden to Barkis for some measure of my prosperity. Then, when Barkis +grew older, I taught him the most approved methods of burning his +fingers on the Fourth of July, and when he went to college I am +convinced that he gained material aid from me in that I loaned him my +college scrap-books, which contained, among other things, a large number +of examination papers which I marvel greatly to-day that I was ever able +successfully to pass, and which gave to him some hint as to the ordeal +he was about to go through. In his younger professional days, also, I +have been Barkis's friend, and have called him up, to minister to a pain +I never had, at four o'clock in the morning, simply because I had reason +to believe that he needed four or five dollars to carry him through the +ensuing hours of the day.</p> + +<p>Quotation books have told us that in love, as well as in war, all is +fair, and if this be true Barkis's ingratitude, the narration of which +cannot now give pain to any one, becomes, after all, nothing more than a +venial offence. I do not place much reliance upon the ethics of +quotation books generally, but when I remember my own young days, and +the things I did to discredit the other fellow in that little affair +which has brought so much happiness into my own life, I am inclined to +nail my flag to the masthead in defence of the principle that lovers can +do no wrong. It is no ordinary stake that a lover plays for, and if he +stacks the cards, and in other ways turns his back upon the guiding +principles of his life, blameworthy as he may be, I shall not blame him, +but shall incline rather towards applause.</p> + +<p>On the other hand, something is due to the young ladies in the case, and +as much for their sake as for any other reason have I set upon paper +this narrative of the man's ingratitude, simply telling the story and +drawing no conclusions whatever.</p> + +<p>Barkis was not endowed with much in the way of worldly possessions. His +father had died when the lad was very young, and had left the boy and +his mother to struggle on alone. But there was that in both of them +which enabled the mother to feel that the boy was worth struggling for, +and the boy at a very early age to realize the difficulties of the +struggle, and to like the difficulties because they afforded him an +opportunity to help his mother either by not giving her unnecessary +trouble or in bringing to her efforts in their mutual behalf aid of a +very positive kind.</p> + +<p>Boys of this kind—and in saying this I cast no reflections whatsoever +upon that edifying race of living creatures whom I admire and respect +more than any other—are so rare that it did not take the neighbors of +the Barkis family many days to discover that the little chap was worth +watching, and if need be caring for in a way which should prove +substantial. There are so many ways, too, in which one may help a boy +without impairing his self-reliance that on the whole it was not very +difficult to assist Barkis. So when one of his neighbors employed him in +his office at a salary of eight dollars a week, when other boys received +only four for similar service, the lad, instead of feeling himself +favored, assumed an obligation and made himself worth five times as much +as the other boys, so that really his employer, and not he, belonged to +the debtor class.</p> + +<p>Some said it was a pity that little Barkis wasted his talents in a real +estate office, but they were the people who didn't know him. He expended +his nervous energy in the real estate office, but his mind he managed to +keep free for the night school, and when it came to the ultimate it was +found that little Barkis had wasted nothing. He entered college when +several other boys—who had not served in a real estate office, who had +received diplomas from the high-school, and who had played while he had +studied—failed.</p> + +<p>That his college days were a trial to his mother every one knew. She +wished him to keep his end up, and he did—and without spending all that +his mother sent him, either. The great trouble was that at the end of +his college course it was understood that Barkis intended studying +medicine. When that crept out the neighbors sighed. They deprecated the +resolve among themselves, but applauded the boy's intention to his face.</p> + +<p>"Good for you, Jack!" said one. "You are just the man for a doctor, and +I'll give you all my business."</p> + +<p>This man, of course, was a humorist.</p> + +<p>Another said: "Jack, you are perfectly right. Real estate and coal are +not for you. Go in for medicine; when my leg is cut off you shall do the +cutting."</p> + +<p>To avoid details, however, some of which would make a story in +themselves, Jack Barkis went through college, studied medicine, received +his diploma as a full-fledged M.D., and settled down at Dumfries Corners +for practice. And practice did not come! And income was not.</p> + +<p>It was plainly visible to the community that Barkis was hard up, as the +saying is, and daily growing more so. To make matters worse, it was now +impossible to help him as the boy had been helped. He was no longer a +child, but a man; and the pleasing little subterfuges, which we had +employed to induce the boy to think he was making his way on his own +sturdy little legs, with the man were out of the question. His clothing +grew threadbare, and there were stories of insufficient nourishment. As +time went on the outward and visible signs of his poverty increased, +yet no one could devise any plan to help him.</p> + +<p>And then came a solution, and inasmuch as it was brought about by the +S.F.M.E., an association of a dozen charming young women in the city +forming the Society for Mutual Encouragement, or Enjoyment, or +Endorsement, or something else beginning with E—I never could ascertain +definitely what the E stood for—it would seem as if the young ladies +should have received greater consideration than they did when prosperity +knocked at the Doctor's door.</p> + +<p>It seems that the Doctor attended a dance one evening in a dress coat, +the quality and lack of quantity of which were a flagrant indication of +a sparse, not to say extremely needy, wardrobe. All his charm of manner, +his grace in the dance, his popularity, could not blind others to the +fact that he was ill-dressed, and the girls decided that something must +be done, and at once.</p> + +<p>"We might give a lawn fete for his benefit," one of them suggested.</p> + +<p>"He isn't a church or a Sunday-school," Miss Daisy Peters retorted. +"Besides, I know Jack Barkis well enough to know that he would never +accept charity from any one. We've got to help him professionally."</p> + +<p>"We might boycott all the fellows at dances," suggested Miss Wilbur, +"unless they will patronize the Doctor. Decline to dance with them +unless they present a certificate from Jack proving that they are his +patients."</p> + +<p>"Humph!" said Miss Peters. "That wouldn't do any good. They are all +healthy, and even if they did go to Jack for a prescription the chances +are they wouldn't pay him. They haven't much more money than he has."</p> + +<p>"I am afraid that is true," assented Miss Wilbur. "Indeed, if they have +any at all, I can't say that they have given much sign of it this +winter. The Bachelors' Cotillon fell through for lack of interest, they +said, but I have my doubts on that score. It's my private opinion they +weren't willing or able to pay for it."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm sure I don't know what we can do to help Jack. If he had our +combined pocket-money he'd still be poor," sighed Miss Peters.</p> + +<p>"He couldn't be induced to take it unless he earned it," said little +Betsy Barbett. "You all know that."</p> + +<p>"Hurrah!" cried Miss Peters, clapping her hands ecstatically; "I have +it! I have it! I have it! We'll put him in the way of earning it."</p> + +<p>And they all put their heads together, and the following was the result:</p> + +<p>The next day Jack Barkis's telephone rang more often in an hour than it +had ever done before in a month, and every ring meant a call.</p> + +<p>The first call was from Miss Daisy Peters, and he responded.</p> + +<p>"I'm so sorry to send for you—er—Doctor," she said—she had always +called him Jack before, but now he had come +professionally—"for—for—Rover, but the poor dog is awfully sick +to-day, and Doctor Pruyn was out of town. Do you mind?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly not, Daisy," he replied, a shade of disappointment on his +face. I am inclined to believe he had hoped to find old Mr. Peters at +death's door. "If the dog is sick I can help him. What are his +symptoms?"</p> + +<p>And Miss Peters went on to say that her cherished Rover, she thought, +had malaria. He was tired and lazy, when usually he rivalled the cow +that jumped over the moon in activity. She neglected to say that she had +with her own fair hands given the poor beast a dose of sulphonal the +night before—not enough to hurt him, but sufficient to make him appear +tired and sleepy.</p> + +<p>"I must see my patient," said the Doctor, cheerfully. "Will he come if I +whistle?"</p> + +<p>Miss Peters was disinclined to accede to this demand. She was beginning +to grow fearful that Jack would see through her little subterfuge, and +that the efforts of the S.F.M.E. would prove fruitless.</p> + +<p>"Oh," she demurred, "is that—er—necessary? Rover isn't a child, you +know. He won't stick out his tongue if you tell him to—and, er—I don't +think you could tell much from his pulse—and—"</p> + +<p>"I'd better see him, though," observed Jack, quietly. "I certainly can't +prescribe unless I do."</p> + +<p>So Rover was brought out, and it was indeed true that his old-time +activity had been superseded by a lethargy which made the wagging of +his tail a positive effort. Still, Doctor Barkis was equal to the +occasion, prescribed for the dog, and on his books that night wrote down +a modest item as against Mr. Billington Peters and to his own financial +credit. Furthermore, he had promised to call again the next day, which +meant more practice.</p> + +<p>On his return home he found a hurry call awaiting him. Miss Betsy +Barbett had dislocated her wrist. So to the Barbett mansion sped Doctor +Barkis, and there, sure enough, was Miss Barbett apparently suffering +greatly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am so glad you have come," she moaned. "It hurts dreadfully, +Jack—I mean Doctor."</p> + +<p>"I'll fix that in a second," said he, and he did, although he thought it +odd that there were no signs of any inflammation. He was not aware that +one of the most cherished and fascinating accomplishments of Miss +Barbett during her childhood had been her ability to throw her wrist out +of joint. She could throw any of her joints out of place, but she +properly chose her wrist upon this occasion as being the better joint to +intrust to a young physician. If Jack had known that until his coming +her wrist had been all right, and that it had not become disjointed +until he rang the front door bell of the Barbett house, he might not +have been so pleased as he entered the item against Judge Barbett in his +book, nor would he have wondered at the lack of inflammation.</p> + +<p>So it went. The Hicks's cook was suddenly taken ill—Mollie Hicks gave +her a dollar to do it—and Jack was summoned. The Tarletons' coachman +was kept out on a wet night for two hours by Janette Tarleton, and very +properly contracted a cold, for which the young woman made herself +responsible, and Doctor Barkis was called in. Then the society itself +discovered many a case among the worthy poor needing immediate medical +treatment from Barkis, M.D., and, although Jack wished to make no +charge, insisted that he should, and threatened to employ some one else +if he didn't.</p> + +<p>By degrees a practice resulted from this conspiracy of the S.F.M.E., and +then a municipal election came along, and each candidate for the +Mayoralty was given quietly to understand by parties representing the +S.F.M.E., that unless Jack Barkis was made health officer of the city +he'd better look out for himself, and while both candidates vowed they +had made no pledges, each had sworn ten days before election-day by all +that was holy that Barkis should have this eighteen-hundred-dollar +office—and he got it! Young women may not vote, but they have influence +in small cities.</p> + +<p>At the end of the second year of the S.F.M.E.'s resolve that Barkis must +be cared for he was in receipt of nearly twenty-eight hundred dollars a +year, could afford a gig, and so command a practice; and having obtained +his start, his own abilities took care of the rest.</p> + +<p>And then what did Jack Barkis, M.D., do? When luxuries began to manifest +themselves in his home—indeed, when he found himself able to rent a +better one—whom did he ask to share its joys with him?</p> + +<p>Miss Daisy Peters, who had dosed her dog that he might profit? No, +indeed!</p> + +<p>Miss Betsy Barbett, who disfigured her fair wrist in his behalf? Alas, +no!</p> + +<p>Miss Hicks, who had spent a dollar to bribe a cook that he might earn +two? No, the ungrateful wretch!</p> + +<p>Any member of the S.F.M.E.? I regret to say not.</p> + +<p>He went and married a girl from Los Angeles, whom he met on one of the +summer vacations the S.F.M.E. had put within his reach—a girl from whom +no portion of his measure of prosperity had come.</p> + +<p>Such was the ingratitude of Barkis. They have never told me so, but I +think the S.F.M.E. feel it keenly. Barkis I believe to be unconscious of +it—but then he is in love with Mrs. Barkis, which is proper; and as I +have already indicated, when a man is in love there are a great many +things he does not see—in fact, there is only one thing he does see, +and that is Her Majesty, the Queen. I can't blame Barkis, and even +though I was aware of the conspiracy to make him prosperous, I did not +think of the ungrateful phase of it all until I spoke to Miss Peters +about his <i>fiancée</i>, who had visited Dumfries Corners.</p> + +<p>"She's charming," said I. "Don't you think so?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes," said Miss Peters, dubiously.</p> + +<p>"But I don't see why Jack went to Los Angeles for a wife."</p> + +<p>"Ah?" said I. "Maybe it was the only place where he could find one."</p> + +<p>"Thank you!" snapped Miss Peters. "For my part, I think the Dumfries +Corners girls are quite as attractive—ah—Betsy Barbett for +instance—or any other girl in Jack's circle."</p> + +<p>"Like yourself?" I smiled.</p> + +<p>"My!" she cried. "How can you say such a thing?"</p> + +<p>And really I was sorry I had said it. It seemed so like twitting a +person on facts, when I came to think about it.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="THE_UTILITARIAN_MR_CARRAWAY"></a><h2>THE UTILITARIAN MR. CARRAWAY</h2> +<br /> + +<p>The Christmas season was approaching, and Mr. Carraway, who had lately +become something of a philosopher, began to think about gifts for his +wife and children. The more he thought of them, the more firmly was he +convinced that there was something radically wrong with the system of +giving that had prevailed in past years. He conjured up visions of the +useless things he had given and received on previous occasions, and an +inventory of his personal receipts at the four celebrations leading up +to the present disclosed the fact that he was long on match-boxes, +cigar-cases, and smoking-jackets, the last every one of them too small, +with an appalling supply of knitted and crocheted objects, the gifts of +his children, in reserve. His boot-closet was a perfect revelation of +the misdirected Christmas energies of the young, disclosing, as it +always did upon occasions when he was in a great hurry, a half-dozen +pairs of worsted slippers, which he had received at Yuletide, some of +them adorned with stags of beads leaping over zephyr walls, and others +made in the image of cats of extraordinary color, with yellow glass eyes +set in directly over the toe whereon he kept his favorite corn. I am not +sure that it was not the stepping of an awkward visitor upon one of +these same glass eyes, while these slippers for the first time covered +his feet, that set Mr. Carraway to cogitating upon the hollowness of +"Christmas as She is Celebrated." Indeed, it is my impression that at +the very moment when that bit of adornment was pressed down upon Mr. +Carraway's corn he announced rather forcibly his disbelief in the +utility of any such infernal Christmas present as that. And as time went +on, and that offending, staring slipper slipped into his hand every time +he searched the closet in the dark for a left patent-leather pump, or +some other missing bit of foot-gear, the conviction grew upon him that +of the great reforms of which the world stood in crying need, the +reformation of the Christmas gift was possibly the most important.</p> + +<p>The idea grew to be a mania with him, and he gradually developed into a +utilitarian of the most pronounced type. Nothing in the world so suited +him as an object, homely or otherwise, that could be used for something; +the things that were used for nothing had no attractions for him. After +this he developed further, and discovered new uses for old objects. Mrs. +Carraway's parlor vases were turned into receptacles for matches, or +papers, according to their size. The huge Satsuma vase became a more or +less satisfactory bill-file; and the cloisonné jar, by virtue of its +great durability, Mr. Carraway used as a receptacle for the family +golf-balls, much to the trepidation of his good wife, who considered +that the vase, like some women, had in its beauty a sufficient cause for +existence, and who would have preferred going without golf forever to +the destruction of her treasured bit of bric-à-brac.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Carraway did her best to stay the steady advance in utilitarianism +of her husband. She could bide with him in most matters. In fact, until +it came to the use of the cloisonné jar for a golf-ball reservoir, she +considered the idea at least harmless, and was forced to admit that it +indeed held many good points.</p> + +<p>"I think it is perfectly proper," she said, "to consider all things from +the point of view of their utility. I do not believe in sending a +ball-dress to a poor woman who is starving or suffering for want of +coal, but I must say, John, that you carry your theory too far when you +insist on using an object for some purpose for which it was manifestly +never intended."</p> + +<p>"But who is to say what a thing is manifestly made for?" demanded +Carraway. "You don't know, or at least you can't say positively, what +one of many possible uses the designer and maker of any object had in +mind when he designed and made that especial object. This particular +vase was fashioned by a heathen. It is beautiful and graceful, but +beyond producing something beautiful and graceful, how can you say what +other notion that heathen had as to its possible usefulness? He may have +made it to hold flowers. He may have intended it for a water-jug. He may +have considered it a suitable receptacle in which its future favored +owner might keep his tobacco, or his opium, or any one of the thousand +and one things that you can put in a vase with a hope of getting it out +again."</p> + +<p>"Well, we know he didn't intend it for golf-balls, anyhow," said Mrs. +Carraway. "For the very simple reason that the heathen don't play golf."</p> + +<p>"They may play some kind of a game which is a heathen variation of +golf," observed Mr. Carraway, coldly.</p> + +<p>"That couldn't be," persisted Mrs. Carraway. "judging from the effect of +Sunday golf-playing on church attendance, I don't think anything more +completely pagan than golf could be found. However—"</p> + +<p>"But the fact remains, my dear," Carraway interrupted, "that while we +may surmise properly enough that the original maker of an object did not +intend it to be used for certain purposes, you cannot say positively, +because you don't know that your surmise is absolutely correct."</p> + +<p>"But I think you can," said Mrs. Carraway. "In fact, <i>I</i> will say +positively that the man who made our new frying-pan made it to fry +things in, and not to be used in connection with a tack-hammer as a +dinner-gong. I know that the hardware people who manufactured our +clothes-boiler, down in the laundry, did not design it as a toy +bass-drum for the children to bang on on the morning of the Fourth of +July. I would make a solemn affidavit to the fact that the maker of a +baby-carriage never dreamed of its possible use as an impromptu toboggan +for a couple of small boys to coast downhill on in midsummer. Yet these +things have been used for these various purposes in our own household +experience. A megaphone can be used as a beehive, and a hammock can be +turned into a fly-net for a horse, but you never think of doing so; and, +furthermore, you <i>can</i> say positively that while the things may be used +for these purposes, the original maker never, never, never thought of +it."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense," said Carraway, wilting a little. "Nonsense. You argue just +like a woman—"</p> + +<p>"I think that was what I was designed for," laughed Mrs. Carraway. "Of +course I do."</p> + +<p>"Oh! but what I mean is that you take utterly ridiculous and extreme +cases. The things never could happen. Who'd ever dream of making a +beehive out of a megaphone?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I think it might occur to the same ingenious mind that discovered +that a cloisonné vase would hold golf-balls," smiled Mrs. Carraway.</p> + +<p>Carraway laughed. "There you go again," he said. "I wonder why women +can't argue without becoming ridiculous? It would be mighty poor economy +to pay $4 for a megaphone as a substitute for a $2 beehive."</p> + +<p>"That is true," said Mrs. Carraway. "I never thought of that."</p> + +<p>"Of course you didn't," retorted Carraway, triumphantly. "Of course you +didn't; and that's what I mean when I say you argue like a woman. You +get hold of what seems on the surface to be a regular solar-plexus +retort, and fail to see how it becomes a boomerang before you can say +Jack Robinson."</p> + +<p>"I suppose if I hadn't been worried about the vase I would have thought +of it," said Mrs. Carraway, meekly. "It worries me to see a $150 vase +used for a purpose that a fifty-cent calico bag would serve quite as +well."</p> + +<p>Carraway glanced searchingly at his wife.</p> + +<p>"Well—ah—hem!" he said. "Quite right, my dear, quite right. I think, +on the whole, you would better get the calico bag."</p> + +<p>For a few days after this little discussion Carraway was very reticent +about his utilitarian ideas. The more he thought of his wife's retort +the less secure he felt in his own position, and he was very sorry he +had spoken about boomerangs and solar-plexus retorts. But with time he +recovered his equanimity, and early in December returned to his old +ways.</p> + +<p>"I've just been up in the attic," he said to his wife one Sunday +afternoon, when he appeared on the scene rather dusty of aspect. +"There's a whole lot of useful stuff up there going to waste. I found +four old beaver hats, any one of which would make a very good +waste-basket for the spare bedroom if it was suitably trimmed; and I +don't see why you don't take these straw hats of mine and make +work-baskets of them."</p> + +<p>Here he held out two relics of bygone fashions to his wife. Mrs. +Carraway took them silently. She was so filled with suppressed laughter +over her husband's suggestions that she hardly dared to speak lest she +should give way to her mirth, and a man does not generally appreciate +mirth at his own expense after he has been rummaging in an attic for an +hour or more, filling his lungs and covering his clothes and hands with +dust.</p> + +<p>However, after a moment she managed to blurt out, "Perhaps I can make +one of them dainty enough to send to your mother for her Christmas +present."</p> + +<p>"I was about to suggest that very same thing," said Carraway, brushing +the dust from his sleeve. "Either you could send it or Mollie"—Mollie +was Mr. Carraway's small daughter. "I think Mollie's grandmother would +be more pleased with a gift of that kind than with one of the useless +little fallals that children give their grandparents on Christmas Day. +What did she give her last year?"</p> + +<p>The question was opportune, for it gave Mrs. Carraway a chance to laugh +outright with some other ostensible object than her husband. She +availed herself of the chance, threw her head back, and shook +convulsively.</p> + +<p>"She sent her a ball of shaving-paper," Mrs. Carraway said.</p> + +<p>A faint smile flitted over Carraway's face. "Well, it might have been +worse," he said. "She can use it for curling-paper." He paused a moment. +Then he said: "I want to say to you, my dear, that—ah—I want Christmas +celebrated this year after my plan of selection. Instead of squandering +our hard-earned dollars on things no sensible person wants and none can +use, we will consider, first of all, practical utility."</p> + +<p>"Very well," sighed Mrs. Carraway. "I quite agree as far as you and I +are concerned—but how about the children? I don't think Tommie would +feel very happy to wake up on Christmas morning and find a pair of +suspenders and a new suit of clothes under the tree. He needs both, but +he wants tin soldiers. And as for Mollie, she expects a doll."</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't wish to be hard on the children," said Mr. Carraway, "but +now is the time to begin training them. There may be a temporary +disappointment, but in the end they will be happier for it. Of course I +don't say to give them necessities of life for Christmas, but in +selecting what we do give them, get something useful. Dolls and tin +soldiers and toy balloons are well enough in their way, but they are +absolutely useless. Therefore, I say, don't give them such things. +Surely Mollie would be pleased to receive a nice little fur tippet or a +muff, and I'll get Tommie a handsome snow-shovel, that he can use when +he cleans off the paths. He won't mind; it will be a gift worth having, +and by degrees he'll come to see that the plan of utility is a good +one."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Carraway discreetly held her tongue, although she was far from +approving Carraway's course in so far as it affected the children. She +tacitly agreed to the proposition, but there was the light of an idea in +her eye.</p> + +<p>The days intervening before Christmas passed rapidly away, and Christmas +eve finally came. Tommie and Mollie were bubbling over with suppressed +excitement, and frequently went off into spasms of giggles. There was +something very funny in the wind evidently. After dinner the small +family repaired to the library, where the children were in the habit of +distributing their gifts for their parents on the night before +Christmas. Mrs. Carraway was beaming, and so was Mr. Carraway. The +children had been informed of what they were to expect, and after an +hour or two of regret, they had put their little heads together, giggled +a half-dozen times, and accepted the situation.</p> + +<p>"Your mother has presented me with a ton of coal, children," said +Carraway, smiling happily. "Now you may think that a funny sort of +gift—"</p> + +<p>"Yeth, papa," said Mollie.</p> + +<p>"Awful funny," said Tommie, wiggling with glee.</p> + +<p>"Well, it does seem so at first, but, now, how much better to give me +that than to present me with something that I could look at for a few +days and then would have no further use for!"</p> + +<p>"That's so, pa," said Mollie.</p> + +<p>"I guess you're right," said Tommie. "Wat cher got for ma?"</p> + +<p>"I have given her a brand-new set of china for the dining-room," said +Mr. Carraway.</p> + +<p>"And it was just what I needed," said Mrs. Carraway, happily. "And now, +children, go up-stairs, and bring down your presents for your father."</p> + +<p>The children sped noisily out of the room and up the stairs.</p> + +<p>"I hope you impressed it on their minds that I wanted nothing useless?" +said Carraway.</p> + +<p>"I did," said Mrs. Carraway. "I explained the whole thing to them, and +told them what they might expect to receive. Then I gave them each ten +dollars of the money they'd saved, and let them go shopping on their own +account. I don't know what they bought you, but it's something huge."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Carraway had hardly finished when the two giggling tots came into +the room, carrying with difficulty a parcel, which, as Mrs. Carraway had +said, was indeed huge. Mr. Carraway eyed it with curiosity as the string +was unfastened and the package burst open.</p> + +<p>"There," cried Tommie, breathlessly.</p> + +<p>"It's all for you, pa, from Mollie and me."</p> + +<p>The two children stood to one side. Mrs. Carraway appeared surprised in +an amused fashion, while Carraway stood appalled at what lay before him, +as well he might; for the package contained a great wax doll with deep +staring blue eyes, a small doll's house with two floors in it and a +front door that opened, china and chairs and table and bureaus in +miniature to furnish the house—indeed, all the paraphernalia of a +well-ordered residence for a French doll. Besides these were two boxes +of tin soldiers, cannon, tents, swords, a fully equipped lead army, a +mechanical fish, and a small zinc steamboat, suitable for a cruise in a +bath-tub.</p> + +<p>Carraway looked at the children, and the children looked at Carraway.</p> + +<p>"Why," said he, as soon as he could recover his equanimity, "there must +be some mistake."</p> + +<p>"No," said Mollie. "We picked 'em out for you ourselves. We thought +you'd need 'em."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Carraway turned away to cough slightly.</p> + +<p>"Need them?" demanded Carraway with a perplexed frown. "When?"</p> + +<p>"Oh—to-morrow," said Tommie.</p> + +<p>"What for?" demanded Carraway.</p> + +<p>"<i>Why, to give to us, of course</i>" said the children in chorus.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"My dear," said Carraway, two hours later, after the children had +retired, "I've been thinking this thing over."</p> + +<p>"Yes?" said Mrs. Carraway.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Carraway; "and I've made up my mind that those children of +ours are born geniuses. I don't believe, after all, they could have +selected anything which would be more satisfactorily useful in the +present emergency."</p> + +<p>"Well," observed Mrs. Carraway, quietly, "I don't either. I thought so +at the time when they asked my permission to do their shopping at the +International Toy Bazar."</p> + +<p>"It's a solar-plexus retort, just the same," said Carraway, as he shook +his head and went to bed. "I think on the 1st of January, if you have no +objections, Mrs. Carraway, I will forswear utilitarianism—and you may +remove the golf-balls from the cloisonné vase as soon as you choose."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="THE_BOOK_SALES_OF_MR_PETERS"></a><h2>THE BOOK SALES OF MR. PETERS</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Like many another town which frankly confesses itself to be a "city of +the third class," Dumfries Corners is not only well provided but +somewhat overburdened with impecunious institutions of a public and +semi-public nature. The large generosity of persons who never give to, +but are often identified with, churches, hospitals, associations of +philanthropic intent of one kind and another, in Dumfries Corners as +elsewhere, is frequently the cause of embarrassment to persons who do +give without being lavish of the so-called influence of their names. +There are quite a dozen individuals out of the forty thousand souls who +live in that favored town who find it convenient to give away as much as +five hundred dollars annually for the maintenance of milk dispensaries, +hospitals, and other deserving enterprises of similar nature for the +needy. Yet at the close of each fiscal year those who have given to this +extent are invariably confronted by "reports," issued by officials of +the various institutions, frankly confessing failure to make both ends +meet, and everybody wonders why more interest has not been taken. +"Surely, we have loaned our names!" they say. It never occurs to anybody +that one successful charity is better than six failures. It has never +entered into the minds of the managers of these enterprises that a man +disposed to give away five hundred dollars could make his contributions +to the public welfare more efficacious by giving the whole to one +institution instead of dividing it among twenty.</p> + +<p>However, human nature is the same everywhere, and until the crack of +doom sounds mankind will be found undertaking more charity than it can +carry through successfully, not only in Dumfries Corners, but everywhere +else. It would be difficult to fix the responsibility for this state of +affairs, although the large generosity of those who lend their names and +blockade their pockets may consider itself a candidate for chief honors +in this somewhat vital matter. It may be, too, that the large generosity +of people who really are largely generous with their thousands has +something to do with it. There is more than one ten-thousand-dollar town +in existence which has accepted a hundred-thousand-dollar hospital from +generously disposed citizens, and the other citizens thereof have +properly hailed their benefactor's name with loud acclaim, but the +hundred-thousand-dollar hospital, which might have been a +fifty-thousand-dollar hospital, with an endowment of fifty thousand more +to make it self-supporting, has a tendency to ruin other charities quite +as worthy, because its maintenance pumps dry the pockets of those who +have to give. It will require a drastic course of training, I fear, to +open the eyes of the public to the fact that even generosity can be +overdone, and I must disclaim any desire to superintend the process of +securing their awakening, for it is an ungrateful task to criticise even +a mistakenly generous person; and man being by nature prone to +thoughtless judgments, the critic of a philanthropist who spends a +million of dollars to provide tortoise-shell combs for bald beggars +would shortly find himself in hot water. Therefore let us discuss not +the causes, but some of the results of the system which has placed upon +suburban shoulders such seemingly hopeless philanthropic burdens. At +Dumfries Corners the book sales of Mr. Peters, one of the vestrymen, +were one of these results.</p> + +<p>There were two of these sales. The first, like all book sales for +charity, consisted largely of the vending of ice-cream and cake. The +second was different; but I shall not deal with that until I have +described the first.</p> + +<p>This had been given at Mr. Peters's house, with the cheerful consent of +Mrs. Peters. The object was to raise seventy-five dollars, the sum +needed to repair the roof of Mr. Peters's church. In ordinary times the +congregation could have advanced the seventy-five dollars necessary to +keep the rain from trickling through the roof and leaking in a steady +stream upon the pew of Mrs. Bumpkin, a lady too useful in knitting +sweaters for the heathen in South Africa to be ignored. But in that year +of grace,</p> + +<p>1897, there had been so many demands made upon everybody, from the +Saint William's Hospital for Trolley Victims, from the Mistletoe Inn, a +club for workingmen which was in its initial stages and most worthily +appealed to the public purse, and for the University Extension Society, +whose ten-cent lectures were attended by the swellest people in Dumfries +Corners and their daughters—and so on—that the collections of Saint +George's had necessarily fallen off to such an extent that plumbers' +bills were almost as much of a burden to the rector as the needs of +missionaries in Borneo for dress-suits and golf-clubs. In this +emergency, Mr. Peters, whose account at his bank had been overdrawn by +his check which had paid for painting the Sunday-school room pink in +order that the young religious idea might be taught to shoot under more +roseate circumstances than the blue walls would permit, and so could not +well offer to have the roof repaired at his own expense, suggested a +book sale.</p> + +<p>"We can get a lot of books on sale from publishers," he said, "and I +haven't any doubt that Mrs. Peters will be glad to have the affair at +our house. We can surely raise seventy-five dollars in this way. +Besides, it will draw the ladies in the congregation together."</p> + +<p>The offer was accepted. Mrs. Peters acquiesced. Peters and his +co-workers asked favors and got them from friends in the publishing +world. The day came. The books arrived, and the net results to the +Roofing Fund of Saint George's were gratifying. The vestry had asked for +seventy-five dollars, and the sale actually cleared eighty-three! To be +sure, Mr. Wiggins spent fifty dollars at the sale. And Mrs. Thompson +spent forty-nine. And the cake-table took in thirty-eight. And the +ice-cream was sold, thanks to the voracity of the children, for nineteen +dollars. And some pictures which had been donated by Mrs. Bumpkin sold +for thirty-one dollars, and the gambling cakes, with rings and gold +dollars in them, cleared fifteen. Still, when it was all reckoned up, +eighty-three dollars stood to the credit of the roof! In affairs of this +kind, results, not expenses, are considered.</p> + +<p>Surely the venture was a success. Although from the point of view of +bringing the ladies of the congregation together—well, the less said +about that the better. In any event, parts of Dumfries Corners were +cooler the following summer than they had ever been before.</p> + +<p>And then, in the natural sequence of events, the next year came. The +hospital, and the inn, and the various other institutions of the city +indorsed by prominent names, but void of resources, as usual, left the +church so poor that something had to be done to repair the cellar of +Saint George's by outside effort, water leaking in from the street. The +matter was discussed, and the amount needed was settled upon. This time +Saint George's needed ninety dollars. It didn't really need so much, but +it was thought well to ask for more than was needed, "because then, you +know, you're more likely to get it."</p> + +<p>The book-cake-and-cream sale of the year before had been so successful +that everybody said: "By all means let us have another literary +afternoon at Mr. Peters's."</p> + +<p>"All right!" said Peters, calmly, when the project was suggested. +"Certainly! Of course! Have anything you please at my house. Not that I +am running a casino, but that I really enjoy turning my house inside out +in a good cause once in a while," he added, with a smile which those +about him believed to be sincere. "Only," said he, "kindly make me +master of ceremonies on this occasion."</p> + +<p>"Certainly!" replied the vestry. "If this thing is to be in your house +you ought to have everything to say about it."</p> + +<p>"I ask for control," said Peters, "not because I am fond of power, but +because experience has taught me that somebody should control affairs of +this sort."</p> + +<p>"Certainly," was the reply again, and Peters was made a committee of +one, with power to run the sale in his own way, and the vestry settled +down in that calm and contented frame of mind which goes with the +consciousness of solvency.</p> + +<p>Three months elapsed, and nothing was done. No cards were issued from +the home of Peters announcing a sale of any kind, cake, cream, or books, +and the literary afternoon seemed to have sunk into oblivion. The +chairman of the Committee on Supplies, however, having gone into the +cellar one morning to inspect the coal reserve, found himself obliged +either to wade knee deep in water or to neglect his duty—and, of +course, being a sensible man, he chose the latter course. He knew that +in impecunious churches willing candidates for vestry honors were rare, +and he, therefore, properly saved himself for future use. Wading in +water might have brought on pneumonia, and he was aware that there +really isn't any reason why a man should die for a cause if there is a +reasonable excuse for his living in the same behalf. But he went home +angry.</p> + +<p>"That cellar isn't repaired yet," he said to his wife. "You'd think from +the quantity of water there that ours was a Baptist church instead of +the Church of England."</p> + +<p>"It's a shame!" ejaculated his wife, who, having that morning finished +embroidering a centre-piece for the dinner-table of the missionaries in +Madagascar, was full of conscious rectitude. "A perfect shame; who's to +blame, dear?"</p> + +<p>"Peters," replied the chairman. "Same old story. He makes all sorts of +promises, and never carries 'em out. He thinks that just because he +pays a few bills we haven't anything to say. But he'll find out his +mistake. I'll call him down. I'll write him a letter he won't forget in +a hurry. If he wasn't willing to attend to the matter he had no business +to accept the responsibility. I'll write and tell him so."</p> + +<p>And then, the righteous wrath of the chairman of the Committee on +Supplies having expended itself in this explosion at his own +dinner-table, that good gentleman forgot all about it, did not write the +letter, and in fact never thought of the matter again until the next +meeting of the vestry, when he suavely and jokingly inquired if the +Committee on Leaks and Book Sales had any report to make. To his +surprise Mr. Peters responded at once.</p> + +<p>"Yes, gentlemen," he said, taking a check out of his pocket and handing +it to the treasurer. "The Committee on Leaks, Literature, and Lemonade +reports that the leak is still in excellent condition and is progressing +daily, while the Literature and Lemonade have produced the very +gratifying sum of one hundred and thirty-seven dollars and sixty-three +cents, a check for which I have just handed the treasurer."</p> + +<p>Even the rector looked surprised.</p> + +<p>"Pretty good result, eh?" said Peters. "You ask for ninety dollars and +get one hundred and thirty-seven dollars and sixty-three cents. You can +spend a hundred dollars now on the leak and make a perfect leak of it, +and have a balance of thirty-seven dollars and sixty-three cents to buy +books for the Hottentots or to invest in picture-books for the Blind +Asylum library."</p> + +<p>"Ah—Mr. Peters," said the chairman of the Committee on Supplies, +"I—ah—I was not aware that you'd had the sale. I—ah—I didn't receive +any notice."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes—we had it," said Peters, rubbing his hands together buoyantly. +"We had it last night, and it went off superbly."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry," said the chairman of the Committee on Supplies. "I should +like to have been there."</p> + +<p>"I didn't know of it myself, Mr. Peters," said the rector, "but I am +glad it was so successful. Were there many present?"</p> + +<p>"Well—no," said Peters. "Not many. Fact is, Mrs. Peters and the +treasurer here and I were the only persons present, gentlemen. But the +results sought were more than accomplished."</p> + +<p>"I don't see exactly how, unless we are to regard this check as a gift," +observed the chairman of the Committee on Supplies, coldly.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll tell you how," said Peters. "The check isn't a gift at all. +Last year you had a book sale at my house, and this year you voted to +have another. I couldn't very well object—didn't want to, in fact. Very +glad to have it as long as I was allowed to control it. But last year we +cleared up a bare eighty dollars. This year we have cleared up one +hundred and thirty-seven dollars and sixty-three cents. Last year's book +sale cost me one hundred and twenty-five dollars. The children who +attended, aided and abetted by my own, spilled so much ice cream on my +dining-room rug that Mrs. Peters was forced to send it to the cleaners. +A very charming young woman whose name I shall not mention placed a +chocolate eclair upon my library sofa while she inspected a volume of +Gibson's drawings. Another equally charming young woman sat down upon +it, and, whatever it did to her dress, that eclair effectually ruined +the covering of my sofa. Then, as you may remember, the sale of books +took place in my library, and I had the pleasure of seeing, too late, +one of our sweetest little saleswomen replenishing her stock from my +shelves. She had sold out all the books that had been provided, and in a +mad moment of enthusiasm for the cause parted with a volume I had +secured after much difficulty in London to complete a set of some rarity +for about seven dollars less than the book had cost."</p> + +<p>"Why did you not object?" demanded the chairman of the Committee on +Supplies.</p> + +<p>"My dear sir," said Mr. Peters, "I never object to anything my guests +may do, particularly if they are charming and enthusiastic young women +engaged in church work. But I learned a lesson, and last night's book +sale was the result. If the chairman of the Committee on Supplies +demands it, here is a full account of receipts."</p> + +<p>Mr. Peters handed over a memorandum which read as follows:</p> + + +<table align="center" border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Savings by not having Book Sale"> +<tr><td align="left">Saving on Floors by not having Book Sale,</td><td align="left">$18.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Saving on Carpets by not having Book Sale,</td><td align="left">6.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Saving on Library by not having Book Sale,</td><td align="left">29.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Saving on Time by not having Book Sale,</td><td align="left">50.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Saving on Furniture by not having Book Sale</td><td align="left">28.27</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Saving on Incidentals by not having Book Sale</td><td align="left">5.86</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">Total </td><td align="left">$137.63</td></tr></table> + + +<p>"With this statement, gentlemen," said Mr. Peters, suavely, "should the +Finance Committee require it, I am prepared to submit the vouchers which +show how much wear and tear on a house is required to raise eighty +dollars for the heathen."</p> + +<p>"That," said the chairman of the Finance Committee, "will not be +necessary—though—" and he added this wholly jocularly, "though I don't +think Mr. Peters should have charged for his time; fifty dollars is a +good deal of money."</p> + +<p>"He didn't charge for his time," murmured the treasurer. "In this +statement he has paid for it!"</p> + +<p>"Still," said he of Supplies, "the social end of it has been wiped out."</p> + +<p>"Of course it has," retorted Mr. Peters. "And a very good thing it has +been, too. Did you ever know of a church function that did not arouse +animosities among the women, Mr. Squills?"</p> + +<p>The gentleman, in the presence of men of truth, had to admit that he +never knew of such a thing.</p> + +<p>"Then what's the matter with my book sale?" demanded Peters. "It has +raised more money than last year; has cost me no more—and there won't +be any social volcanoes for the vestry to sit over during the coming +year."</p> + +<p>A dead silence came over all.</p> + +<p>"I move," said Mr. Jones, at whose house the meeting was held, "that we +go into executive session. Mrs. Jones has provided some cold birds, and +a—ah—salad."</p> + +<p>Mr. Jones's motion was carried, and before the meeting finally adjourned +under the genial influence of good-fellowship and pleasant converse Mr. +Peters's second book sale was voted to have been of the best quality.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="THE_VALOR_OF_BRINLEY"></a><h2>THE VALOR OF BRINLEY</h2> +<br /> + +<p>However differentiated from other suburban places Dumfries Corners may be +in most instances, in the matter of obtaining and retaining efficient +domestics the citizens of that charming town find it much like all other +communities of its class. Civilization brings with it everywhere, it +would seem, problems difficult of solution, and conspicuous among them +may be mentioned the servant problem. It is probable that the only +really happy young couple that ever escaped the annoyance of this +particular evil were Adam and Eve, and as one recalls their case it was +the interference of a third party, in the matter of their diet, that +brought all their troubles upon them, so that even they may not be said +to have enjoyed complete immunity from domestic trials. What quality it +is in human nature that leads a competent housemaid or a truly-talented +culinary artist to abhor the country-side, and to prefer the dark, +cellar-like kitchens of the city houses it is difficult to surmise; why +the suburban housekeeper finds her choice limited every autumn to the +maid that the city folks have chosen to reject is not clear. That these +are the conditions which confront surburban residents only the +exceptionally favored rustic can deny.</p> + +<p>In Dumfries Corners, even were there no rich red upon the trees, no +calendar upon the walls, no invigorating tonic in the air to indicate +the season, all would know when autumn had arrived by the anxious, +hunted look upon the faces of the good women of that place as they ride +on the trains to and from the intelligence offices of the city looking +for additions to their <i>ménage</i>. Of course in Dumfries Corners, as +elsewhere, it is possible to employ home talent, but to do this requires +larger means than most suburbanites possess, for the very simple reason +that the home talent is always plentifully endowed with dependents. +These latter, to the number of eight or ten—which observation would +lead one to believe is the average of the successful local cook, for +instance—increase materially the butcher's and grocer's bills, and, one +not infrequently suspects, the coal man's as well.</p> + +<p>Years ago, when he was young and inexperienced, the writer of this +narrative, his suspicions having been aroused by the seeming social +popularity of his cook, took occasion one Sunday afternoon to count the +number of mysterious packages, of about a pound in weight each, which +set forth from his kitchen and were carried along his walk in various +stages of ineffectual concealment by the lady's visitors. The result was +by no means appalling, seven being the total. But granting that seven +was a fair estimate of the whole week's output, and that the stream +flowed on Sundays only, and not steadily through the other six days, the +annual output, on a basis of fifty weeks—giving the cook's generosity a +two weeks' vacation—three hundred and fifty pounds of something were +diverted from his pantry into channels for which they were not +originally designed, and on a valuation of twenty-five cents apiece his +minimum contribution to his cook's dependents became thereby very +nearly one hundred dollars. Add to this the probable gifts to similarly +fortunate relatives of a competent local waitress, of an equally +generously disposed laundress with cousins, not to mention the genial, +open-handed generosity of a hired man in the matter of kindling-wood and +edibles, and living becomes expensive with local talent to help.</p> + +<p>It is in recognition of this seemingly cast-iron rule that local service +is too expensive for persons of modest income, that the modern +economical house-wife prefers to fill her <i>ménage</i> with maids from the +metropolis, even though it happen that she must take those who for one +reason or another have failed to please her city sisters. It may be, +too, that this is one of the reasons for the constant changes in most +suburban houses, for it is equally axiomatic that once an alien becomes +acclimated she takes on a <i>clientèle</i> of adopted relatives, who in the +course of time become as much of a drain upon the treasury of the +household as the Simon-Pure article.</p> + +<p>The Brinleys had been through the domestic mill in its every phase. +They had had cooks, and cooks, and cooks, and maids, and maids, and +maids, plus other maids; they had been face to face with arson and +murder; Mrs. Brinley had parted a laundress armed with a flat-iron from +a belligerent cook armed with an ice-pick, and twice the ministers of +the law had carried certain irate women bodily forth with the direst of +threats lest they should return later and remove the Brinley family from +the list of the living.</p> + +<p>All of which contributed to Mrs. Brinley's unhappiness and rather +increased than diminished her natural timidity. Brinley, on the other +hand, professed to know no fear, but according to his theory that ways +and means were his care, and that the domestic affairs of his household +were his wife's, and beyond his jurisdiction, held himself aloof and +said never a word to the recalcitrant servant, confining what upbraiding +he did exclusively to Mrs. Brinley.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you scold Bridget?" cried Mrs. Brinley one morning, after +Brinley had made a few remarks to his wife which were not to her taste, +inasmuch as she felt that she had done nothing to deserve them. "I +didn't burn the steak."</p> + +<p>"That is very true, my dear," said Brinley, "but you are responsible for +the cook who did. It would never do for me to interfere. I have troubles +enough with my office-boys. This is your bailiwick, not mine, and until +I ask you to scold my clerks you mustn't ask me to scold your servants." +With this sage remark the valiant Brinley at once took his departure.</p> + +<p>Time passed, and it so happened one autumn that the once happy household +found itself in the throes of a particularly aggravated case of cook. +She was a sixteen-dollar cook, and had been recommended as being +"splendid." In just what respect she showed her splendor, save in her +regal lack of manners and the marvellous coloring of her costumes on her +Sundays out, was never perceptible, but one thing that was wholly clear +at the end of a three-weeks' service was her independence of manner.</p> + +<p>Meals were never ready on time, and the dinner-hour, instead of being a +fixed time beneath her sway, seemed to become a variable point, +according to the lady's whim. In the observance of the breakfast-hour +she was equally erratic, and on several trying occasions Brinley was on +the verge of the dilemma of either failing to keep an appointment in +town or going without his morning meal. Sometimes the coffee would come +to the table a thin, amber fluid that tasted like particularly bad +consommé. Again it would be served with all the thickness of a <i>purée</i>. +Her bread was similarly variable in its undesirability. There were +biscuits that held all the flaky charm of a snowball. There were loaves +of bread that reminded one of the stories of hardtack in Cuba during the +late unpleasantness. There were English muffins that rested upon poor +Brinley's digestion as the world may fairly be presumed to rest upon the +shoulders of Atlas, and, indeed, it is a tradition in the Brinley family +that one of this cook's pie-crusts rivalled Harveyized steel in its +impenetrability.</p> + +<p>Indeed, Brinley, usually a silent sufferer, commented upon this cohesive +quality of Ellen's pastry on two different occasions. On the first he +advised Mrs. Brinley to learn the secret of Ellen's manipulation of the +ingredients of a pie-crust, and have herself capitalized to rival the +corporations which provide the government with armor-plate. On the +second he made the sage though disagreeable remark that the "next +apple-pie we have should be served with individual steam-drills." And he +one day accompanied Mrs. Brinley to a quiet golf links, and, when he had +teed up, that good lady observed one of Ellen's doughnuts upon the +little mound of sand before him instead of his favorite ball.</p> + +<p>"I cut up the Silverton ball so," he said, as he addressed the tee, +"that I'm ashamed of myself. I may not play any better with this +doughnut, but it will never show the marks of the irons as a bit of mere +gutta-percha would."</p> + +<p>"If you feel that way about Ellen," Mrs. Brinley observed, just as +Brinley was about to drive off with a real ball, "I don't see why you +don't discharge her."</p> + +<p>Brinley took his eye off the ball to look indignantly upon his wife, and +consequently foozled.</p> + +<p>"Discharge her? Why should I discharge her?" he demanded, his temper +growing as he observed where he had landed his ball. "I'm not running +the house, my dear. You are. I didn't ask you to tell Miss Flossie +Fairfax that, as she couldn't spell, she was no longer useful as a +stenographer in the office of Brinley & Rutherford. Why should you ask +me to tell a cook that her services are no longer required in the +establishment of Brinley & Brinley, of which you are the manager?"</p> + +<p>"It isn't easy to discharge a girl," Mrs. Brinley began. "Particularly a +quarrelsome woman like Ellen."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's it," said Brinley. "You are afraid of her."</p> + +<p>"Not exactly," said Mrs. Brinley. "But—"</p> + +<p>"Of course, if you are afraid of her, I'll get rid of her," persisted +Brinley, valiantly. "Just wait until we get home. I'll show you a thing +or two when it comes to ridding one's self of an unfaithful servant. The +steak this morning looked like a stake that martyrs had been burned at, +and I am not afraid to say so."</p> + +<p>And so it was decided that Brinley, on his return home, should interview +Ellen and inform her that her services would not be required after the +first of the month.</p> + +<p>"Now let's play golf," he said. "I'll settle Ellen in a minute. Fore!"</p> + +<p>How Brinley fulfilled his promise is best shown by his talk with Mrs. +Brinley the next morning when, somewhat red of face, he rejoined her in +the dining-room after his interview with Ellen.</p> + +<p>"Well?" said Mrs. Brinley.</p> + +<p>"It's all right," Brinley replied, with an uneasy glance at his wife. +"She's going to stay."</p> + +<p>"Going to stay?" echoed Mrs. Brinley, her eyes opening wide in a very +natural astonishment. "Why, I thought you were going to discharge her?"</p> + +<p>"Well—I was," he said, haltingly. "I was, of course. That's what I went +down for—but—er—you know, my dear, that there are two sides to every +question."</p> + +<p>"Even to Ellen's biscuits?" Mrs. Brinley laughed.</p> + +<p>"Never mind that. She's going to do better," said Brinley. "You'll find +that hereafter we've got a cook, and not an incendiary nor a forger of +armor-plate."</p> + +<p>"And may I ask how this wonderful reform has been worked in the brief +space of ten minutes?" asked Mrs. Brinley. "Have you hypnotized her?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Brinley. Then he looked rather sheepishly out of the window. +"I've given her an incentive to do better. I've increased her wages."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Brinley gazed at him silently in open-mouthed wonder for a full +half-minute.</p> + +<p>"You did what?" asked Mrs. Brinley.</p> + +<p>"I told her we'd give her twenty dollars a month instead of sixteen," +said Brinley. "You needn't laugh," he added. "I began very severely. +Asked her what she meant by ignoring our wishes as to hours. I dilated +forcefully upon her apparent fondness for burning steaks to a crisp, +and sending broiled chicken to the table looking as if somebody had +dropped a flat-iron on them."</p> + +<p>"Good!" exclaimed Mrs. Brinley. "And what did she say? Was she +impertinent?"</p> + +<p>"Not a bit of it," said Brinley "She took it very nicely until I spoke +of the muffins, after which I had intended to give her notice to quit, +but she took the wind completely out of my sails by asking me what I +expected at sixteen dollars a month."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said Mrs. Brinley.</p> + +<p>"Exactly," said Brinley. "That was a point I had not considered at all. +After all, she was right. What can you expect for sixteen dollars?"</p> + +<p>"Well, what next?" asked Mrs. Brinley, her eyes a-twinkle.</p> + +<p>"I asked her if she thought she could do better on twenty dollars," he +answered. "She thought she could, and that's the way it stands now."</p> + +<p>"I see," said Mrs. Brinley, and then she burst into a perfect explosion +of laughter, which she soon curbed, however, as she noticed the +expression on poor Brinley's face. "I've no doubt you have acted with +perfect justice in this matter, my dear George," she said. "But I think +hereafter I'll do my own discharging. Your way is rather +extravagant—er—don't you really think so?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," said Brinley, and departed for town.</p> + +<p>"The madam is right about that," he said to himself later in the day, as +he thought over the incident. "But extravagant or not, I couldn't have +discharged that woman if somebody had offered me a clear hundred. Mrs. +B. doesn't know it, but I was in a blue funk from start to finish."</p> + +<p>In which surmise Brinley was wrong. Mrs. B. did know it, and when two +weeks later Ellen became absolutely impossible, and demanded a +kitchen-maid as the perquisite of a twenty-dollar cook, Mrs. Brinley +didn't think of calling upon her husband to perform the function of the +executioner, but like a brave woman actually summoned the cook into her +presence and did it herself. A less courageous woman would have gone +downstairs into the kitchen to do it.</p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="WILKINS"></a><h2>WILKINS</h2> +<br /> + +<p>It was a rather remarkable affair, taken altogether. Wilkins was not +what one would call an attractive man, and none of the young women of +Dumfries Corners who had met him had ever manifested anything but a +pronounced aversion to his society.</p> + +<p>"I'd rather be a wall-flower than dance with Sam Wilkins," one of these +young women had said. "He not only can't dance, but, what is infinitely +worse, he doesn't know that he can't dance, and as for his +conversation—well, give me silence."</p> + +<p>"You are perfectly right about that," said another. "Whenever I see him +about to waltz or two-step, I immediately remove myself from the scene, +and pray for the girl he's dancing with. He is a train-wrecker, and the +favorite resting-place for his heels is on some one else's foot. I've +heard that he steps on his own feet, too, he's so awkward, and I hope he +does if it hurts him as much as he hurts me when he steps on mine."</p> + +<p>For Wilkins's sake I am very sorry to say that this feeling towards him +was invariable. I never cared much for him myself, but I felt rather +sorry for him when I perceived the persistent snubbing with which he was +everywhere received. He never seemed aware of it himself, happily, +however, and accepted my merely sympathetic attentions with that +superciliousness which always goes with conscious rectitude.</p> + +<p>Conscious rectitude, I think, was Wilkins's trouble. He was good, and he +was aware of it, but he was not content with that. He wanted everybody +else to be good. I really believe that Wilkins could have carried on a +Platonic love affair with an auburn-haired girl for ten weeks without an +effort, he was so terribly good, which did not at all contribute to his +popularity. A fellow who talks about ritualism while walking in the +moonlight with a sentimental woman, doesn't count for much, and Wilkins +was always doing things like that. It was even whispered last winter +when he went sleigh-riding with that fascinating little widow, Mrs. +Broughton, that he let her do the driving, clasped his own hands in +front of him, and talked of nothing but the privations of the +missionaries in China, and never mentioned oysters or cold birds and a +bottle.</p> + +<p>"And worst of all," snapped Mrs. Broughton, "he really seemed to enjoy +it. I never saw such a man!"</p> + +<p>I have mentioned all these details for the purpose of indicating how +unpopular Wilkins was and how it was that he had become so, for with +this knowledge the reader will share the surprise which we all felt when +Wilkins suddenly blossomed forth as the most popular man of Dumfries +Corners. It was really a knockdown blow to the most of us, for while we +may have been jealous on occasions of each other, it never occurred to +any of us to be jealous of the train-wrecker.</p> + +<p>I didn't like it when Araminta smiled upon Harry Burnham, but it was not +injurious to my self-respect that she should do it, because Harry +Burnham averages up as good a fellow as I am, and then Harry and I could +drown our differences in the flowing bowl later on. On the other hand, +if Harry's Fiametta cast side glances at me, of course Harry would be +wroth, but he could understand why Fiametta should be so affected by the +twinkle in my eye—an affection by the way which has often got me +unconsciously into trouble—that she should for the moment forget +herself and respond to it.</p> + +<p>But when Araminta and Fiametta on a sudden, just after the leap-year +dance, wholly, and, as we thought, basely, deserted us for that emblem +of conscious rectitude, Sam Wilkins, a man whose eye couldn't learn to +twinkle in a thousand years, a mere human iceberg, then it was that we +were astounded. Nor was this secession limited to Araminta and Fiametta. +The conversion of the girls of Dumfries Corners to Wilkins was as +complete, as comprehensive, as it was startling to the men. Jack Lester, +as Bob Jenks expressed it, was "trun down" by Daisy Hawkins, who +appeared to have eyes for none but Wilkins, while Bob, in turn, when +going to make his usual Thursday evening call upon Miss Betsy Wilson, +discovered that Miss Betsy had gone to the University extension lecture +with the train-wrecker, an act unprecedented, for it had long been the +custom for Bob to spend his Thursday evenings at the Wilson mansion, +and, while nothing had as yet been announced, everybody in town was +getting his congratulations ready for Bob as soon as that which was +understood became a matter of common knowledge.</p> + +<p>For a week or two we none of us let on that we had observed the +remarkable change that had come o'er the spirit of our dreams. Harry has +always been remarkable for his ability to conceal his feelings, and in +that respect I am a good second, and except for the fact that we spent +more time at the club playing pool nobody would have suspected that we +cared whether Araminta or Fiametta still loved us or not. Besides, we +each had a feeling that two could play at this Wilkins game, and I had +made up my mind that if Araminta could so easily find a substitute for +me I, with my twinkle, could as speedily replace her. That is to say, I +felt that I could create that impression in Araminta's mind, and that +was all I was after. I didn't really intend, however easy it would be +to do so, to create a flutter of a permanent nature in any other woman's +heart—that is, not until I was sure that Araminta was lost to me +forever. After a decent period of mourning I might have used my twinkle +for permanent effect, but at that moment my only idea was to show +Araminta that if one could be fickle, two could be twice as fickle. +Harry had the same course of treatment in store for Fiametta, and we +both made a strong bid for the company of Mary Brown, who, it must be +confessed, was a charming girl, and stood second in the affections of +every man in Dumfries Corners.</p> + +<p>It was the opportunity of Mary Brown's life, for even as Harry and I had +decided, so had all the other jilted swains, but that curious girl +either could not or would not grasp it. She, too, had become a +Wilkinsite, and would have nothing to do with any of us. She declined to +attend the Beldens's musicale with me, and went bicycling with the +iceberg. She told Robinson she hated lectures, and went to a +stereopticon show with the train-wrecker. All the other men met with a +similar rebuff, and at the last meeting of the Chafing Dish Club she +capped the climax by refusing my lobster à la Newburg and Harry's +oysters poulet, to have a second helping to the sole-leather welsh +rarebit which Wilkins had constructed; Wilkins, a rank outsider, who had +been asked to come to the meeting by every blessed girl in the club, +although heretofore he had not been considered as a possible member, and +in fact had been black-balled by the girls themselves! And when it came +time for the girls to go home, instead of each one being escorted by a +single male member, Wilkins corralled the whole lot of them in a huge +omnibus which he had hired, and drove off with them, leaving us +disconsolate. He smiled so broadly you could see his teeth in the dark.</p> + +<p>This, as I have said, capped the climax.</p> + +<p>"That settles it," said Burnham. "I'm going to New York for a rest. +These Dumfries Corners girls needn't think they're the only women in the +world. There are others."</p> + +<p>"I'm going to stay and stick it out," said I. "I've got my sister left. +She'll never succumb to the Wilkins influence."</p> + +<p>But alas! I leaned upon a broken reed. My sister is a sensible girl, +but she is "literary." She had a joke in <i>Life</i> once, and since that +time she has neglected almost everything but writing and her brother. +She doesn't neglect me, and altogether I'm glad she writes, since it +fills her with enthusiasm until the articles come back, and up to now +she had not written poetry. But, as I say, I leaned upon a broken reed, +for when, the next day, I asked her what she was writing, she laughed +and showed me a sonnet.</p> + +<p>"Poetry, eh?" I said, disapprovingly, as I looked over her manuscript.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she answered, modestly. "A sonnet."</p> + +<p>And I read, "To S.W."</p> + +<p>"Who's 'S.W.?'" I asked, with a frown, although I little suspected what +her answer would be.</p> + +<p>"Sam Wilkins," she replied.</p> + +<p>I then realized the full force of Caesar's "Et tu, Brute?" and fled.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Wilkins was becoming insufferable. If Bunthorne was an ass, he +was at least clever, but this Wilkins—he was a whole drove of asses, +and not a redeeming feature to the lot. He could no more account for +his sudden popularity than we could, but he could not help realizing it +after a week or two, and then, for the first time in his life, he began +to take notice. We men all wanted to thrash him, and I think Burnham +would have done it if the rest of us hadn't prevented him.</p> + +<p>"He needed a licking before this," said Harry, "but now he's worse than +ever. It isn't conscious rectitude now, it's triumphant virtue. He makes +me tired. He was telling me the other day that while girls might be +captivated by flippant, superficial, prancing dudes for a while, in the +end solid worth would win, and then he went on to say that the youth of +modern times cultivated his feet to the exclusion of his head, and that +while he had, of course, learned to dance, he had not devoted all his +time to it, and regarded it, after all, as a very minor sort of an +attraction as far as women are concerned. 'I don't rely on my dancing, +Burnham,' he said. 'It's the head, and the heart, my boy, that +triumphs.' And when I asked him where he learned all this he answered, +'from personal experience.'"</p> + +<p>I immediately let go of Burnham. "Go and half-lick him, Harry," said I. +"And when you've done with him pass him over to me, and I'll finish him. +The supercilious ass."</p> + +<p>That was the way Wilkins affected us.</p> + +<p>The other men took their dose in different ways. Jenks began to drink a +little more; Lester drank a little less. Hicks didn't care much about it +one way or the other, and Wilson swore that if Wilkins came to call on +his sister again he'd kick him out of the house.</p> + +<p>Six weeks rolled by thus, and finally Easter Sunday came. No mitigation +of the Wilkins visitation had entered into our lives. As the days wore +on the girls became more devoted to him than ever, and he became +correspondingly unbearable. The condescension with which he would treat +his fellow-men was something hardly to be tolerated, and the worst of it +was there didn't seem to be any way of bringing the girls to terms. +There wasn't anybody left for us to flirt with now that Mary Brown had +gone over to the enemy, she who had always been willing to flirt with +anybody.</p> + +<p>"There's only one hope," said Jenks. "If he'll only marry one of 'em, +the others will come back. He can't marry 'em all, thank Heaven."</p> + +<p>"Suppose it was Fiametta he married?" said I.</p> + +<p>"Or Araminta!" was his preposterous retort.</p> + +<p>"He'll never do that," said Lester. "He's in clover now, and for the +first time in his life, and the more of an ass he is the more he'll like +clover. He's paying attention to the lot. He'll never settle down to +one. It's all up with us—unless he bankrupts himself."</p> + +<p>"He won't," observed Harry Burnham. "Conscious rectitude won't do +anything like that. I'm going to New York to call on an old flame, and I +advise the rest of you to do the same."</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't know but what you are right," said I, "but Araminta shall +have one more chance. I'm going to church to-morrow. It's Easter Sunday, +and I'll offer to escort her home. If she says 'yes,' all right. If she +doesn't, I'm lost to her forever."</p> + +<p>"Good scheme," quoth the others. "We're with you."</p> + +<p>And that is what we all did. The girls were all there, resplendent in +new bonnets and toggery of other sorts, and the smirking Wilkins was +there too. He passed the plate after the sermon, and his rectitude shone +out oleaginously on every line of his face. It was as much as I could do +to keep from tripping him up in the aisle, and sending him and the +contribution-plate sprawling. I almost did it when I imagined his +feelings as the nickels rattled down through the register into the +furnace below, but I restrained myself—and the killing glances he threw +into those glass eyes of his, whenever he happened to hold the plate +before one of those Dumfries girls! It was sickening, and I came near to +flying before the close of the service. The others had the same +sensations and temptations, and it is a wonder that Wilkins did not meet +with some dreadful humiliation before he got the collection back into +the chancel. It was a terrible strain on us, and his horrid +unconsciousness that he was anything but perfect, and that the rest of +us were anything more than so many paving stones to be walked on, was +aggravating to a degree. Nothing unusual happened, however, and the +service came to an end, and with it came to us all another surprise, but +this time the surprise gave Wilkins a pain, and I had a front seat when +the blow was dealt.</p> + +<p>It had occurred to the immaculate rival of all the manhood of Dumfries +Corners that he would honor Araminta with his society on the way home +from church, and he and I reached her side after service at one and the +same moment.</p> + +<p>"May I have the pleasure of seeing you home?" said Wilkins, twirling his +mustache with a "resist me if you can" smile on his lips.</p> + +<p>"Don't let me interfere," said I, dryly, and was about to turn away.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Mr. Wilkins," replied Araminta, "but Mr. Smithers has +already asked me."</p> + +<p>It was a beautiful, lovely, sweet lie. I hadn't done anything of the +sort, but I'd meant to, of course, and perhaps Araminta had become a +mind reader. Wilkins got a little flushy around his cheek-bones, and +posted off to Fiametta, but she and Burnham were already en route and +apparently reconciled. So it went with all. Wilkins was left. Even my +sister, who, lacking Wilkins, would have to walk home with the +minister's wife, declined, and the fall of the great man was complete. +Mary Brown was the only one remaining in the field, and when he fled to +her she said she wasn't going home.</p> + +<p>"Well, then," said Wilkins, "let me take you to wherever you are going?"</p> + +<p>"Thank you," returned Miss Brown, "I'm not going there either," and she +joined Araminta and myself, much to our delight, for we have no secrets +from her. And then it all came out.</p> + +<p>The girls had not loved us less, or Wilkins more, but they had resolved +to keep Lent with unusual rigor this year.</p> + +<p><i>They had sworn us off and taken up Wilkins for penance</i>.</p> + +<p>Hard on Wilkins?</p> + +<p>Not a bit of it. He's as conscious of his rectitude and as unconscious +of his unpopularity as ever.</p> + +<p>Only he is a little more outspoken about women than he used to be, and +somehow or other he has let it creep out that he "doesn't find them +interesting."</p> + +<p>"They can't even learn to dance without tripping a fellow up," says he.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="THE_MAYOR'S_LAMPS"></a><h2>THE MAYOR'S LAMPS</h2> +<br /> + +<p>The serpent had crept into Eden. The Perkins household for ten years had +been little less than Paradise to its inmates, and then in a single +night the reptile of political ambition had dragged his slimy length +through those happy door-posts and now sat grinning indecently at the +inscription over the library mantel, a ribbon mosaic bearing the +sentiment "Here Dwells Content" let into the tiles thereof.</p> + +<p>How it ever happened no man knoweth, but happen it did. Thaddeus Perkins +was snatched from the arms of Peace and plunged headlong into the jaws +of Political Warfare.</p> + +<p>"They want me because they think I'm strong," he pleaded, in extenuation +of his acceptance of the nomination for Mayor of his town.</p> + +<p>"But you ought to know better," returned Mrs. Perkins, failing to +realize what possible misconstruction her lord and master might put +upon the answer. "The idea of your meddling in politics when you've got +twice as much work as you can do already! I think it's awful!"</p> + +<p>"I didn't seek it," he said, after hesitating a moment; +"they've—they've thrust it on me." Then he tried to be funny. "With me, +public office is a public thrust."</p> + +<p>"Is there any salary?" asked Mrs. Perkins, treating the jest with the +contempt it merited.</p> + +<p>"No," said Thaddeus. "Not a cent; but—"</p> + +<p>"Not a cent!" cried Mrs. Perkins. "And you are going to give up all your +career, or at least two years of it, and probably the best two years of +your life, for—"</p> + +<p>"Glory," said Thaddeus.</p> + +<p>"Glory! Humph," said Mrs. Perkins, "I am not aware that nations are +talking of previous Mayors of Dumfries Corners. Mr. Jiggers's name is +not a household word outside of this city, is it?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Jiggers was the gentleman, into whose shoes Thaddeus was seeking to +place his feet—the incumbent of the mighty office to which he aspired.</p> + +<p>"Who is the present Lord Mayor of London?" the lady continued.</p> + +<p>"Haven't the slightest idea," murmured the standard-bearer of the +Democratic party, hopelessly.</p> + +<p>"Or Berlin, or Peking—or even of Chicago?" she went on.</p> + +<p>"What has that got to do with it?" retorted the worm, turning a trifle.</p> + +<p>"You spoke of glory—the glory of being Mayor of Dumfries Corners, a +city of 30,000 inhabitants. This is going to send your name echoing from +sea to sea, reverberating through Europe, and thundering down through +the ages to come; and yet you admit that the glories of the Mayors of +London with 4,000,000 souls, of Berlin, Chicago, and Peking, with +millions more, are so slight that you can't remember their names—or +even to have heard them, for that matter. Really, Thaddeus, I am +surprised at you. What you expect to get out of this besides nervous +prostration I must confess I cannot see."</p> + +<p>"Lamps," said Thaddeus, clutching like a drowning man at the one +emolument of the coveted office.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Perkins gazed at her husband anxiously. The answer was so +unexpected and seemingly so absurd that she for a moment feared he had +lost his mind. The notion that two years' service in so important an +office as that of Mayor of Dumfries Corners received as its sole reward +nothing but lamps was to her mind impossible.</p> + +<p>"Is—is there anything the matter with you, dear?" she asked, placing +her hand on his brow. "You don't seem feverish."</p> + +<p>"Feverish?" snapped the leader of his party. "Who said anything about my +being feverish?"</p> + +<p>"Nobody, Teddy dear; but what you said about lamps made me think—made +me think your mind was wandering a trifle."</p> + +<p>"Oh—that!" laughed Perkins. "No, indeed—it's true. They always give +the Mayor a pair of lamps. Some of them are very swell, too. You know +those wrought-iron standards that Mr. Berkeley has in front of his +place?"</p> + +<p>"The ones at the driveway entrance, on the bowlders?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"They're beauties. I've always admired those lamps very much."</p> + +<p>"Well—they are the rewards of Mr. Berkeley's political virtue. I paid +for them, and so did all the rest of the tax-payers. They are his +Mayor's lamps, and if I'm elected I'll have a pair just like them, if I +want them like that."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I do hope you'll get in, Teddy," said the little woman, anxiously, +after a reflective pause. "They'd look stunning on our gate-posts."</p> + +<p>"I don't think I shall have them there," said Thaddeus. "Jiggers has the +right idea, seems to me—he's put 'em on the newel-posts of his front +porch steps."</p> + +<p>"I don't suppose they'd give us the money and let us buy one handsome +cloisonné lamp from Tiffany's, would they?" Mrs. Perkins asked.</p> + +<p>"A cloisonné lamp on a gate-post?" laughed Perkins.</p> + +<p>"Of course not," rejoined the lady. "You know I didn't mean any such +thing. I saw a perfectly beautiful lamp in Tiffany's last Wednesday, and +it would go so well in the parlor—"</p> + +<p>"That wouldn't be possible, my dear," said Thaddeus, still smiling. +"You don't quite catch the idea of those lamps. They're sort of like the +red, white, and blue lights in a drug-store window in intention. They +are put up to show the public that that is where a political +prescription for the body politic may be compounded. The public is +responsible for the bills, and the public expects to use what little +light can be extracted from them."</p> + +<p>"Then all this generosity on the public's part is—"</p> + +<p>"Merely that of the Indian who gives and takes back," said Thaddeus.</p> + +<p>"And they must be out-of-doors?" asked Mrs. Perkins. "If I set the +cloisonné lamp in the window, it wouldn't do?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Thaddeus. "They must be out-of-doors."</p> + +<p>"Well, I hope the nasty old public will stay there too, and not come +traipsing all over my house," snapped Mrs. Perkins, indignantly.</p> + +<p>And then for a little time the discussion of the Mayor's lamps stopped.</p> + +<p>The campaign went on, and Thaddeus night after night was forced to go +out to speak here and there and everywhere. One night he travelled five +miles through mud and rain to address an organization of tax-payers, and +found them assembled before the long mahogany counter of a beer-saloon, +which was the "Hall" they had secured for the reception of the idol of +their hopes; and among them it is safe to say there was not one who ever +saw a tax-bill, and not many who knew more about those luxuries of life +than the delicious flunky, immortalized by Mr. Punch, who says to a +brother flunky, "I say, Tummas, wot is taxes?" And he told them his +principles and promised to do his best for them, and bade them +good-night, and went away leaving them parched and dry and downcast. And +then the other fellow came, and won their hearts and "set them up +again." Another night he attended another meeting and lost a number of +friends because he shone at both ends but not in the middle. If he had +taken a glittering coin or two from his vest-pocket on behalf of the +noble working-men there assembled in great numbers and spirituous mood, +they would have forgiven him his wit and patent-leather shoes—and so +it went. Perkins was nightly hauled hither and yon by the man he called +his "Hagenbeck," the manager of the wild animal he felt himself +gradually degenerating into, and his wife and home and children saw less +of him than of the unimportant floating voter whose mind was open to +conviction, but could be reached only by way of the throat.</p> + +<p>"Two o'clock last night; one o'clock the night before; I suppose it'll +be three before you are in to-night?" Mrs. Perkins said, ruefully.</p> + +<p>"I do not know, my dear," replied Thaddeus. "There are five meetings on +for to-night."</p> + +<p>"Well, I think they ought to give you the lamps now," said Mrs. Perkins. +"It seems to me this is when you need them most."</p> + +<p>"True," said Thaddeus, sadly, for in his secret soul he was beginning to +be afraid he would be elected; and now that he saw what kind of people +Mayors have to associate with, the glory of it did not seem to be worth +the cost. "I'm a sort of Night-Mayor just at present, and those lamps +would come in handy in the wee sma' hours," he groaned. And then he +sighed and pined for the peaceful days of yore when he was content to +walk his ways with no nation upon his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"I never envied Atlas anyhow," he confided to himself later, as he +tossed about upon his bed and called himself names. "It always seemed to +me that this revolving globe must rub the skin off his neck and back; +but now, poor devil, with just one municipality hanging over me, I can +appreciate more than ever the difficulties of his position—except that +he doesn't have to make speeches to 'tax-payers.' Humph! Taxpayers! It's +tax-makers. If I'd promised to go into all sorts of wilderness +improvement for the sole and only purpose of putting these 'tax-payers' +on the corporation at the expense of real laboring-men, I'd win in a +canter."</p> + +<p>"What is the matter, Thaddeus?" said Mrs. Perkins, coming in from the +other room. "Can't you sleep?"</p> + +<p>"Don't want to sleep, my dear," returned the candidate. "When I go to +sleep I dream I'm addressing mass-meetings. I can't enjoy my rest +unless I stay awake. Did your mother come to-day?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—and, oh, she's so enthusiastic, Teddy!"</p> + +<p>"At last! About me? You don't mean it."</p> + +<p>"No—about the lamps. She says lamps are just what we need to complete +the entrance. She thinks Mr. Berkeley's scheme of putting them on the +stone posts is the best. There's more dignity about it. Putting them on +the piazza steps, she says, looks ostentatious, and suggests a +beer-saloon or a road-house."</p> + +<p>"Well, my dear, that's about all politics seems to amount to," said the +reformer. "If those lamps are to be a souvenir of the campaign, they +ought to suggest road-houses and beer-saloons."</p> + +<p>"They will not be souvenirs of a campaign," replied Mrs. Perkins, +proudly. "They will be the outward and visible sign of my husband's +merit; the emblem of victory."</p> + +<p>"The red badge of triumph, eh?" smiled the candidate, wanly. "Well, my +dear, have them where you please, and keep them well filled with +alcohol, even if they do burn gas. They'll represent the tax-payers +when they get that."</p> + +<p>"You musn't get so tired, Thaddeus dear," said the little woman, +smoothing his forehead soothingly with her hand. "You seem unusually +tired to-night."</p> + +<p>"I am," said Thaddeus, shortly. "The debate wore me out."</p> + +<p>"Did you debate? I thought you said you wouldn't."</p> + +<p>"Well, I did. Everybody said I was afraid to meet Captain Haskins on the +platform, so we had it out to-night over in the Tenth Ward. I talked for +sixty-eight minutes, gave 'em my views, and then he got up."</p> + +<p>"What did he say. Could he answer you?"</p> + +<p>"No—but he won the day. All he said was: 'Well, boys, I'm not much of a +talker, but I'll say one thing—Perkins, while my adversary, is still my +friend, and I'm proud of him. Now, if you'll all join me at the bar, +we'll drink his health—on me.'" Thaddeus paused, and then he added: "I +imagine they're cheering yet; at any rate, if I have as much health as +they drink—on Haskins—I'll double discount old Methuselah in the +matter of years."</p> + +<p>The next morning at breakfast the pale and nervous standard-bearer was +affectionately greeted by his mother-in-law.</p> + +<p>"I've been thinking about those lamps all night," she said, after a few +minutes. "The trouble about the gate-posts is that you have three +gate-posts and only two lamps."</p> + +<p>"Maybe they'd let us buy three lamps instead of two," suggested Mrs. +Perkins.</p> + +<p>"Well, we won't, even if they do let us," observed Perkins, with some +irritation. He had just received a newspaper from a kind friend in +Massachusetts with a comic biography and dissipated wood-cut of himself +in it. "I'm not starting a concert-hall, and I'm not going to put a row +of lamps along the front of my place."</p> + +<p>"I quite agree with you," replied his mother-in-law. "It occurred to me +we might put them, like hanging lanterns, on each of the chimneys. It +would be odd."</p> + +<p>Thaddeus muttered two syllables to himself, the latter of which sounded +like M'dodd, but exactly what it was he said I can only guess. Then he +added: "They won't go there. I can't get a gas-pipe up through those +chimneys. It's as much as we can do to get the smoke up, much less a +gas-pipe. Even if we got the gas-pipe through, it wouldn't do. A +putty-blower would choke up the flues."</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't know," said the mother-in-law, placidly. "It seems to +me—"</p> + +<p>A glance from Mrs. Perkins stopped the dear old lady. I think Mrs. +Perkins's sympathetic disposition taught her that her husband was having +a hard time being agreeable, and that further discussion of the lamp +question was likely to prove disastrous.</p> + +<p>Thaddeus was soon called for by his manager, and started out to meet the +leading lights of the Hungarian and Italian quarters. The Germans had +been made solid the day before, and as for the Irish, they were supposed +to be with Perkins on principle, because Perkins was not in accord +politically with the existing administration.</p> + +<p>"It's too bad he's so nervous," said his mother-in-law, as he went out.</p> + +<p>"They say women are nervous, but I must say I don't think much of the +endurance of men. How absurd he was when he spoke of the gas-pipe +through the chimney!"</p> + +<p>"Well, I suppose, my dear mother," said Mrs. Perkins, sadly—"I suppose +he can't be bothered with little details like the lamps now. There are +other questions to be considered."</p> + +<p>"What is the exact issue?" asked the mother-in-law, interestedly.</p> + +<p>"Well—the tariff, and—ah—and taxes, and—ah—money, and—ah—ah—I +think the saloon question enters in somehow. I believe Mr. Haskins wants +more of them, and Thaddeus says there are too many of them as it is. And +now they are both investigating them, I fancy, because Teddy was in one +the other day."</p> + +<p>"We ought to help him a little," said the elder woman. "Let's just +relieve him of the whole lamp question; decide where to put them, go to +New York and pick them out, get estimates for the laying of the pipes, +and surprise him by having them all ready to put up the day after +election."</p> + +<p>"Wouldn't it be fun!" cried Mrs. Perkins, delightedly. "He'll be so +surprised—poor dear boy. I'll do it. I'll send down this morning for +Mr. O'Hara to come up here and see how we can make the connection and +where the trenches for the pipes can be laid. Mr. O'Hara is the +best-known contractor in town, and I guess he's the man we want."</p> + +<p>And immediately O'Hara was telephoned for to come up to Mr. Perkins's, +and the fair conspirators were not aware of, and probably will never +realize, the importance politically of that act. Mr. O'Hara refused to +come, but it was hinted about that Perkins had summoned him, and there +was great joy among the rank and file, and woe among the better +elements, for O'Hara was a boss, and a boss whose power was one of the +things Thaddeus was trying to break, and the cohorts fancied that the +apostle of purity had realized that without O'Hara reform was fallen +into the pit. Furthermore, as cities of the third class, like Dumfries +Corners, live conversationally on rumors and gossipings, it was not an +hour before almost all Dumfries Corners, except Thaddeus Perkins himself +and his manager, knew that the idol had bowed before the boss's hat, +and that the boss had returned the grand message that he'd see Perkins +in the Hudson River before he'd go to his damned mugwump temple; and in +two hours they also knew it, for they heard in no uncertain terms from +the secretary of the Municipal Club, a reform organization, which had +been instrumental in securing Perkins's nomination, who demanded to know +in an explicit yes or no as to whether any such message had been sent. +The denial was made, and then the lie was given; and many to this day +wonder exactly where the truth lay. At any rate, votes were lost and few +gained, and many a worthy friend of good government lost heart and +bemoaned the degeneration of the gentleman into the politician.</p> + +<p>Perkins, worn out, irritated by, if not angry at, what he termed the +underhanded lying of the opposition, drove home for luncheon, and found +his wife and her mother in a state of high dudgeon. They had been +insulted.</p> + +<p>"It was frightful the language that man used, Thaddeus," said Mrs. +Perkins.</p> + +<p>"He wouldn't have dared do it except by telephone," put in the +mother-in-law, whose notions were somewhat old-fashioned. "I've always +hated that machine. People can lie to you and you can't look 'em in the +eye over it, and they can say things to your face with absolute +opportunity."</p> + +<p>The dear old lady meant impunity, but it must be remembered that she was +excited.</p> + +<p>"Well, I think he ought to be chastised," said Mrs. Perkins.</p> + +<p>"Who? What are you talking about?" demanded Thaddeus.</p> + +<p>"That nasty O'Hara man," said Mrs. Perkins. "He said 'he'd be damned' +over the wire."</p> + +<p>Thaddeus immediately became energetic. "He didn't blackguard you, did +he?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"Yes, he did," said Mrs. Perkins, the water in her eyes affecting her +voice so that it became mellifluous instead of merely melodious.</p> + +<p>"But how?" persisted Perkins.</p> + +<p>"Well—we—we—rang him up—it was only as a surprise, you know, +dear—we rang him up—"</p> + +<p>"You—you rang up—O'Hara?" cried Perkins, aghast. "It must have been a +surprise."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Teddy. We were going to settle the lamp question; we thought you +were bothered enough with—well, with affairs of state—"</p> + +<p>The candidate drew up proudly, but immediately became limp again as he +realized the situation.</p> + +<p>"And," Mrs. Perkins continued, "we thought we'd relieve you of the lamp +question; and as Mr. O'Hara is a great contractor—the most noted in all +Dumfries Corners—isn't he?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, yes! he is!" said Perkins, furiously; "but what of that?"</p> + +<p>"Well, that's why we rang him up," said Mrs. Perkins, with a sigh of +relief to find that she had selected the right man. "We wanted Mr. +O'Hara to dig the trench for the pipes, and lay the pipes—"</p> + +<p>"He's a great pipe-layer!" ejaculated Perkins.</p> + +<p>"Exactly," rejoined Mrs. Perkins, solemnly. "We'd heard that, and so we +asked him to come up."</p> + +<p>"But, my dear," cried Perkins, dismayed, "you didn't tell him you +wanted him to put up my lamps? I'm not elected yet."</p> + +<p>The agony of the moment for Perkins can be better imagined than +portrayed.</p> + +<p>"He didn't give us the chance," said the mother-in-law. "He merely +swore."</p> + +<p>Perkins drew a sigh of relief. He understood it all now, and in spite of +the position in which he was placed he was glad. "Jove!" he said to +himself, "it was a narrow escape. Suppose O'Hara had come! He'd have +enjoyed laying pipes for a Mayor's lamps for me—two weeks before +election."</p> + +<p>And for the first time in weeks Perkins was faintly mirthful. The +narrowness of his escape had made him hysterical, and he actually +indulged in the luxury of a nervous laugh.</p> + +<p>"That accounts for the rumor," he said to himself, and then his heart +grew heavy again. "The rumor is true, and—Oh, well, this is what I get +for dabbling in politics. If I ever get out of this alive, I vow by all +the gods politics shall know me no more."</p> + +<p>"It was all right—my asking O'Hara, Thaddeus?" asked Mrs. Perkins.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, certainly, my dear—perfectly right. O'Hara is indeed, as you +thought, the most noted, not to say notorious, contractor in town, only +he's not laying pipes just now. He's pulling wires."</p> + +<p>"For telephones, I presume?" said the old lady, placidly.</p> + +<p>"Well, in a way," replied Thaddeus. "There's a great deal of vocality +about O'Hara's wires. But, Bess," he added, seriously, "just drop the +lamps until we get 'em, and confine your telephoning to your intimate +friends. An Irishman on a telephone in political times is apt to be a +trifle—er—artless in his choice of words. If you must talk to one of +'em, remember to put in the lightning plug before you begin."</p> + +<p>With which injunction the candidate departed to address the Mohawks, an +independent political organization in the Second Ward, which was made up +of thinking men who never indorsed a candidate without knowing why, and +rarely before three o'clock of the afternoon of election day at that, by +whom he was received with cheers and back-slapping and button-holings +which convinced him that he was the most popular man on earth, though +on election day—but election day has yet to be described. It came, and +with it there came to Perkins a feeling very much like that which the +small boy experiences on the day before Christmas. He has been good for +two months, and he knows that to-morrow the period of probation will be +over and he can be as bad as he pleases again for a little while anyhow.</p> + +<p>"However it turns out, I can tell 'em all to go to the devil to-morrow," +chuckled Thaddeus, rubbing his hands gleefully.</p> + +<p>"I don't think you ought to forget the lamps, Thaddeus," observed the +mother-in-law at breakfast. "Here it is election day and you haven't yet +decided where they shall go. Now I really think—"</p> + +<p>"Never mind the lamps," returned Thaddeus. "Let's talk of ballot-boxes +to-day. To-morrow we can place the lamps."</p> + +<p>"Very well, if you say so," said the old lady; "only I marvel at you +latter-day boys. In my young days a small matter like that would have +been settled long ago."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll compromise with you," said</p> + +<p>Thaddeus. "We won't wait until to-morrow. I'll decide the question +to-night—I'm really too busy now to think of them."</p> + +<p>"I shall be glad when we don't have to think about 'em at all," sighed +Mrs. Perkins, pouring out the candidate's coffee. "They've really been a +care to me. I don't like the idea of putting them on the porch, or on +the gate-posts either. They'll have to be kept clean, and goodness knows +I can't ask the girls to go out in the middle of winter to clean them if +they are on the gate-posts."</p> + +<p>"Mike will clean them," said Thaddeus.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Perkins sniffed when Mike's name was mentioned. "I doubt it," she +said. "He's been lots of good for two weeks."</p> + +<p>"Mike has been lots of good for two weeks," echoed Thaddeus, +enthusiastically. "He's kept all the hired men in line, my dear."</p> + +<p>"I've no doubt he's been of use politically, but from a domestic point +of view he's been awful. He's been drunk for the last week."</p> + +<p>"Well, my love," said the candidate, despairingly, "some member of the +family had to be drunk for the last week, and I'd rather it was Mike +than you or any of the children. Mike's geniality has shed a radiance +about me among the hired men of this town that fills me with pride."</p> + +<p>"I don't see, to go back to what I said in the very beginning, why we +can't have the lamps in-doors," returned Mrs. Perkins.</p> + +<p>"I told you why not, my dear," said Perkins. "They are the perquisite of +the Mayor, but for the benefit of the public, because the public pays +for them."</p> + +<p>"And hasn't the public, as you call it, taken possession of the inside +of your house?" demanded the mother-in-law. "I found seven gentlemen +sitting in the white and gold parlor only last night, and they hadn't +wiped their feet either."</p> + +<p>"You don't understand," faltered the standard-bearer. "That business +isn't permanent. To-morrow I'll tell them to go round to the back door +and ask the cook."</p> + +<p>"Humph!" said the mother-in-law. "I'm surprised at you. For a few paltry +votes you—"</p> + +<p>Just here the front door bell rang, and the business of the day +beginning stopped the conversation, which bade fair to become +unpleasant.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Night came. The votes were being counted, and at six o'clock Perkins was +informed that everything was going his way.</p> + +<p>"Get your place ready for a brass band and a serenade," his manager +telephoned.</p> + +<p>"I sha'n't!" ejaculated the candidate to himself, his old-time +independence asserting itself now that the polls were closed—and he was +right. He didn't have to. The band did not play in his front yard, for +at eight o'clock the tide that had set in strong for Perkins turned. At +ten, according to votes that had been counted, things were about even, +and the ladies retired. At twelve Perkins turned out the gas.</p> + +<p>"That settles the lamp question, anyhow," he whispered to himself as he +went up-stairs, and then he went into Mrs. Perkins's room.</p> + +<p>"Well, Bess," he said, "it's all over, and I've made up my mind as to +where the lamps are to go."</p> + +<p>"Good!" said the little woman. "On the gate-posts?"</p> + +<p>"No, dear. In the parlor—the cloisonné lamps from Tiffany's."</p> + +<p>"Why, I thought you said we couldn't—"</p> + +<p>"Well, we can. Our lamps can go in there whether the public likes it or +not. We are emancipated."</p> + +<p>"But I don't understand," began Mrs. Perkins.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's simple," said Thaddeus, with a sigh of mingled relief and +chagrin. "It's simple enough. The other lamps are to be put—er—on +Captain Haskins's place."</p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="THE_BALANCE_OF_POWER"></a><h2>THE BALANCE OF POWER</h2> +<br /> + +<p>It was a pleasant night in the spring of 189-.</p> + +<p>The residents of Dumfries Corners were enjoying an early spring, and +suffering from the demoralizing influences of a municipal election. +Incidentally Mr. Thaddeus Perkins, candidate, was beginning to feel very +much like Moses when he saw the promised land afar. The promised land +was now in plain sight; but whether or not the name of Perkins should be +inscribed in one of its high places depended upon the voters who on the +morrow were to let their ballots express their choice as to who should +preside over the interests of the city and hold in check the fiery, +untamed aldermen of Dumfries Corners.</p> + +<p>The candidate was tired, very tired, and was trying to gain a few hours' +rest before plunging again and for the last time into the whirlpool of +vote-getting; and as he sat enjoying a few moments of blissful ease +behind the close-drawn portieres of his library there came the +much-dreaded sound of heavy feet upon the porch without, and the +door-bell rang.</p> + +<p>"Norah!" cried the candidate, in an agonized stage-whisper, as the maid +approached in answer to the summons, "tell them I'm out, unless it's +some one of my personal friends."</p> + +<p>"Yis, sorr," was the answer. "Oi will."</p> + +<p>And the door was opened.</p> + +<p>"Is Misther Perkins in?" came a deep, unmistakably "voting" voice from +without.</p> + +<p>"Oi dun'no'. Are yees a personal friend of Misther Perkins?" was the +response, and the heart of the listening Perkins sought his boots.</p> + +<p>"Oi am not, but—" said the deep voice.</p> + +<p>"Thin he isn't in," said Norah, positively.</p> + +<p>"When 'll he be back?" asked the visitor, huskily.</p> + +<p>"Ye say ye niver met him?" demanded Norah.</p> + +<p>"Oi told ye oi hadn't," said the visitor, a trifle irritably. "But—"</p> + +<p>"Thin he'll niver be back," put in the glorious Norah, and she shut the +door with considerable force and retired.</p> + +<p>For a moment the candidate was overcome; first he paled, but then +catching Mrs. Perkins's eye and noting a twinkle of amusement therein, +he yielded to his emotions and roared with laughter. What if Norah's +manner was unconventional? Had she not carried out instructions?</p> + +<p>"My dear," said the candidate to Mrs. Perkins, as the shuffling feet on +the porch shuffled off into the night, "what wages do you pay Norah?"</p> + +<p>"Sixteen dollars, Thaddeus," was the answer. "Why?"</p> + +<p>"Make it twenty hereafter," replied the candidate. "She is an emerald +beyond price. If I had only let her meet the nominating committee when +they entered our little Eden three weeks ago, I should not now be +involved in this wretched game of politics."</p> + +<p>"Well, I sincerely wish you had," Mrs. Perkins observed, heartily. "This +affair has made a very different man of you, and as for your family, +they hardly see you any more. You are neglecting every single household +duty for your horrid old politics."</p> + +<p>"Well, now, my dear—" began the candidate.</p> + +<p>"The pipes in the laundry have been leaking for four days now, and yet +you won't send for a plumber, or even let me send for one," continued +Mrs. Perkins.</p> + +<p>"Well, Bessie dear, how can I? The race is awfully close. It wouldn't +surprise me if the majority either way was less than a hundred."</p> + +<p>"There you go again, Thaddeus. What on earth has the leak in the laundry +pipes to do with the political situation?" asked the puzzled woman.</p> + +<p>The candidate showed that in spite of his recent affiliations he still +retained some remnant of his former self-respect, for he blushed as he +thought of the explanation; but he tried nevertheless to shuffle out of +it.</p> + +<p>"Of course you can't understand," he said, with a cowardly resolve to +shirk the issue. "That's because you are a woman, Bess. Women don't +understand great political questions. And what I have particularly +liked about you is that you never pretended that you did."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'd like to know," persisted Mrs. Perkins. "I want to be of as +much assistance to my husband in his work as I can, and if public +questions are hereafter to be the problems of your life, they must +become my problems too. Besides, my curiosity is really aroused in this +especial case, and I'd love to know what bearing our calling a plumber +has upon the tariff, or the money question, or any other thing in +politics."</p> + +<p>The candidate hesitated. He was cornered, and he did not exactly like +the prospect.</p> + +<p>"Well—" he began. "You see, I'm standing as the representative of a +great party, and we—we naturally wish to win. If I am defeated, every +one will say that it is a rebuke to the administration at Washington; +and so, you see, we'd better let those leaks leak until day after +to-morrow, when the voting will all be over."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Perkins looked at her husband narrowly.</p> + +<p>"I think I'll have to call the doctor," was her comment. "Either for you +or for myself, Teddy. One of us is gone—wholly gone, mentally. There's +no question about it, either you are rambling in your speech, or I have +entirely lost all comprehension of the English language."</p> + +<p>"I don't see—" began Perkins.</p> + +<p>"Neither do I," interrupted Mrs. Perkins; "and I hardly hope to. You've +explained and explained, but how a plumber's calling here to fix a +laundry leak is to rebuke the administration at Washington is still far +beyond me."</p> + +<p>"But the plumbers are said to hold the balance of power!" cried the +candidate. "There are a hundred of them here in Dumfries Corners, and +each one controls at least five assistants, which makes six hundred +voters in all. If I call in one, he and his five workers will vote for +me, but the other five hundred and ninety-four will vote for Haskins; +and if they do, the administration might as well go out of business. +Can't you see? It's the same with the dandelions. These spring elections +are perfect—ah—Gehenna for a candidate if it happens to be an early +spring like this."</p> + +<p>Perkins's voice had the suggestion of a wail in it as he spoke of the +dandelions, and his wife's alarm grew upon her. She understood now +about the plumber, but his interjection of the dandelions had brought a +fearful doubt into her heart. Surely he was losing his mind.</p> + +<p>"Dandelions, Thaddeus?" she echoed, aghast.</p> + +<p>"Yes, dandelions," retorted the candidate, forcibly. "They've queered me +as much as anything. The neighbors say I'm not a good neighbor because I +don't have them pulled. Mike's been so thoroughly alcoholic all through +the fight, looking after my interests, that he can't pull them; and if I +hire two men to come and do the work, seven hundred other men will want +to know why they didn't get a chance."</p> + +<p>"But why not employ boys?" demanded Mrs. Perkins.</p> + +<p>"And be set down as an advocate of cheap child labor? Not I!" cried +Perkins.</p> + +<p>"Then the dandelion-pullers are another balance of power, are they?" +asked Mrs. Perkins, beginning to grow somewhat easier in her mind as to +her husband's sanity.</p> + +<p>"Precisely; you have a very remarkable gift of insight, Bess," answered +the candidate.</p> + +<p>"And how many balances of power are there?" demanded the lady.</p> + +<p>"The Lord only knows," sighed Perkins. "I've made about eighty of 'em +solid already, but as soon as one balance is fixed a thousand others +rise up like Banquo's ghost, and will not down. I haven't a doubt that +it was a balance of power that Norah just turned away from the front +door. They strike you everywhere. Why, even Bobbie ruined me with one of +them in the Eighth Ward the other day—one solidified balance wiped out +in a moment by my interesting son."</p> + +<p>"Bobbie?" cried Mrs. Perkins. "A six-year-old boy?"</p> + +<p>"Exactly—Bobbie, the six-year-old boy. I wish you'd keep the children +in the house until this infernal business is over. The Eighth Ward would +have elected me; but Bobbie ruined that," said Perkins, ruefully.</p> + +<p>"But how?" cried Mrs. Perkins. "Have our children been out making +campaign speeches for the other side?"</p> + +<p>"They have," assented Perkins. "They have indeed. You remember that man +Jorrigan?"</p> + +<p>"The striker?" queried Mrs. Perkins, calling to mind a burly combination +of red hair and bad manners who had made himself very conspicuous of +late.</p> + +<p>"Precisely. That's just the point," retorted Perkins. "The striker. +That's what he is, and it's what you call him."</p> + +<p>"But you said he was a striker at breakfast last Wednesday," said Mrs. +Perkins. "We simply take your word for it."</p> + +<p>"I know I did. He's also a balance of power, my dear. Jorrigan controls +the Eighth Ward. That's the only reason I've let him in the house," said +Thaddeus.</p> + +<p>"You've been very chummy with him, I must say," sniffed Mrs. Perkins.</p> + +<p>"Well, I've had to be," said the candidate. "That man is a power, and he +knows it."</p> + +<p>"What's his business?" asked Mrs. Perkins.</p> + +<p>"Interference between capital and labor," replied Perkins. "So I've +cultivated him."</p> + +<p>"He never struck me as being a very cultivated person," smiled Mrs. +Perkins. "He has a suggestion of alcohol about him that is very +oppressive."</p> + +<p>"I know—he has a very intoxicating presence," said the candidate, +joining in the smile. "But we are rid of his presence now and forever, +thanks to Bobbie. I got the news last night. He and his followers have +declared for Haskins, in spite of all his promises to me, and we can +attribute our personal good fortune and our political loss to Bobbie. +Bobbie met him on the street the other day."</p> + +<p>"I know he did," said Mrs. Perkins. "He told me so, and he said that the +horrid man wanted to kiss him."</p> + +<p>"It's true," said Perkins. "He did, and Bobbie wouldn't let him."</p> + +<p>"Well, a man isn't going back on you because he can't kiss your whole +family, is he?" asked Mrs. Perkins, apprehensively. "If that's the +situation, I shall go to New York to-morrow."</p> + +<p>Perkins laughed heartily. "No, my dear," he said. "You are safe enough +from that. But Jorrigan, when Bobbie refused, said, 'Well, young feller, +I guess you don't know who I am?' 'Yes, I do,' said Bobbie. 'You are +Mr. Jorrigan,' and Jorrigan was overjoyed; but Bobbie destroyed his good +work by adding, 'Jorrigan the striker,' and the striker's joy vanished. +'Who told you that?' said he. 'Pop—and he knows,' said Bobbie. That +night," continued Perkins, with a droll expression of mingled mirth and +annoyance, "the amalgamated mortar-mixers of the Eighth Ward decided +that consideration for the country's welfare should rise above partisan +politics, and that when it came to real statesmanship Haskins could give +me points. A ward wiped out in a night, and another highly interesting, +very thirsty balance of power gone over to the other side."</p> + +<p>"I should think you'd give up, then," said Mrs. Perkins, despairfully. +She wanted her husband to win—not because she had any ambition to shine +as "Lady-Mayor," but because she did not wish Thaddeus to incur +disappointment or undergo the chagrin of a public rebuke. "You seem to +be losing balances of power right and left."</p> + +<p>"Why should I give it up?" queried Perkins. "You don't suppose I am +having any better luck than Mr. Haskins, do you?"</p> + +<p>"Is he losing them too?" asked Mrs. Perkins, hopefully.</p> + +<p>"I judge so from what he tells me," said Perkins. "We took dinner +together at the Centurion in New York the other night, and he's a prince +of good fellows, Bess. He has just as much trouble as I have, and when I +met him on the train the other day he was as blue as I about the +future."</p> + +<p>"You and the captain dining together?" ejaculated Mrs. Perkins.</p> + +<p>"Certainly," said Perkins. "Why not? Our hatred is merely political, and +we can meet on a level of good-fellowship anywhere outside of Dumfries +Corners."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Perkins laughed outright. "Isn't it funny!" she said.</p> + +<p>"Why, Haskins is one of my best friends, generally," continued Perkins. +"I don't see anything funny about it. Just because we both happen to be +dragged into politics on opposite sides at the same moment is no reason +why we should begin cutting each other's throats, my dear. In fact, with +balances of power springing up all over town like mushrooms, we have +become companions in misery."</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't see why you can't get together, then, and tell these +balances to go to—to grass," suggested Mrs. Perkins.</p> + +<p>"Grass is too mild, my love," remarked the candidate, smiling quietly. +"They wouldn't go there, even if we told them to, so it would be simply +a waste of breath. We've got to grin and bear them until the polls +close, and then we can pitch in and tell 'em what we think of them."</p> + +<p>"Just the same," continued Mrs. Perkins, "an agreement between Mr. +Haskins and you to ignore these people utterly, instead of taking them +into your family, would stop the whole abuse."</p> + +<p>"That's a woman's idea," said Perkins, bravely, though in the innermost +recesses of his heart he wished he had thought of it before. "It isn't +practical politics, my love. You might as well say that two opposing +generals in a war could save thousands of lives by avoiding each other's +armies and keeping out of a fight."</p> + +<p>"Well, I do say that," replied Mrs.</p> + +<p>Perkins, positively. "That's exactly my view of what generals ought to +do."</p> + +<p>"And what would become of the war?" queried the candidate.</p> + +<p>"There wouldn't be any," said the good little woman.</p> + +<p>"Precisely," retorted Perkins. "Precisely. And if Haskins and I did what +you want us to do, there would be no more politics."</p> + +<p>"Well, what of it?" demanded Mrs. Perkins. "Are politics the salvation +of the country? It's as bad as war."</p> + +<p>"Humph!" grunted Perkins. "It is difficult to please women. You hate war +because, to settle a question of right, people go out into the field of +battle and mow each other down with guns; you cry for arbitration. Let +all questions, all differences of opinion, be settled by a resort to +reason, say you—which is beautiful, and undoubtedly proper. But when we +try to settle our differences by a bloodless warfare, in which the +ballot is one's ammunition, you cry down with politics. A political +contest is nothing but a bit of supreme arbitration, for which you peace +people are always clamoring, by the court of last resort, the people."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Perkins smiled sweetly, and taking her husband's hand in hers, +stroked it softly.</p> + +<p>"Teddy dear, you mustn't be so politic with me," she said; "I'm not a +campaign club. I know that sentiment you have just expressed is lofty +and noble, and ought to be true, and I know we used to think it was +true—three weeks ago I believed it when you said it; but this is now, +dear. This is to-night, not three weeks ago, and I have changed my +mind."</p> + +<p>"Well," began the candidate, hesitatingly, "I don't know but that I am +weakening a trifle myself."</p> + +<p>"I know," interposed Mrs. Perkins, "you are weakening. You know as well +as I do that the hard work you are doing is not in appealing to the +reason of the supreme court of arbitration, the people. You are +appealing, as you have said, yourself, to a large and interesting +variety of balances of power, that do not want your views or your +opinions or your arguments, but they do want your money to buy cigars +and beer with. They want you to buy their good-will; and even if you +bought it, I doubt if they would concede to you a controlling interest +in it if Mr. Haskins should happen to want some of it, and I don't doubt +he does."</p> + +<p>"You don't know anything—" the candidate ventured.</p> + +<p>"Yes I do, too," returned Mrs. Perkins, with the self-satisfied nod +which the average new woman gives when she thinks she is right, though +Mrs. Perkins had no pretensions in that direction, happily for her +family. "I know all that you have told me. I know that when you were to +dine at Colonel Buckley's on Wednesday night you wore your evening +dress, and that when leaving there early to go to the city and address +the Mohawk Independent Club you asked your manager if you could go +dressed as you were, and his answer was, 'Not on your life,' and you +went home and put on your business suit. You told me that yourself, and +yet you talk about the supreme court of arbitration, the people!"</p> + +<p>"But, Bess, the Mohawks are a powerful organization," pleaded Perkins. +"I couldn't afford to offend them."</p> + +<p>"No. It was the first balance of power that turned up. I remember it +well. It was to be convinced by arguments. You were going down there to +discuss principles, but you couldn't appeal to their judicial minds or +reach their reason unless you changed your clothes; and when you got +there as their guest, and ventured to ask for a glass of Vichy before +you spoke, do you remember what they brought you?" demanded Mrs. +Perkins, warming up to her subject.</p> + +<p>The candidate smiled faintly. "Yes," he answered. "Beer."</p> + +<p>"Exactly; and when he gave you the beer, that MacHenty man whispered in +your ear, 'Drink that; it'll go better wid the byes.'"</p> + +<p>"He did," said Thaddeus, meekly.</p> + +<p>"And yet you talk about this appeal to a reasonable balance of power! +Really, Teddy, you are becoming demoralized. Politics, as I see it, is +an appeal to thirst, and nothing else."</p> + +<p>"'You never miss the voter till the keg runs dry,'" sang the candidate, +with a more or less successful attempt at gayety. "But never mind, Bess. +I've had enough, and if I'm beaten this time I'll never do it again. So +don't worry; and, after all, this is only a municipal election.</p> + +<p>The difference between a grand inspiring massive war for principle and +a street riot. The supreme court of arbitration, the people, can be +relied on to do the right thing in the end. They are sane. They are +honest. They are not all thirsty, and in this as in all contests the +blatant attract the most attention. The barker at the door of the side +show to the circus makes more noise than the eight-headed boy that makes +the mare go."</p> + +<p>"You're a trifle mixed in your metaphors, Teddy," said Mrs. Perkins.</p> + +<p>"Well who wouldn't be, after a three weeks' appeal to an arid waste of +voters?"</p> + +<p>"A waste of arid voters," amended Mrs. Perkins.</p> + +<p>"The amendment is accepted," laughed Thaddeus. And at that moment a +telephone call from headquarters summoned him abroad.</p> + +<p>"Good-night, Bess," he said, kissing his wife affectionately. "This is +the last night."</p> + +<p>"Good-night, Teddy; I hope it is. And next time when they ask you to +run—"</p> + +<p>"You shall be the balance of power, and decide the question for me," +said the candidate, as, with sorrow in his heart, he left his home to +seek out what he called "the branch office of Hades," political +headquarters, where were gathered some fifty persons, most of whom began +life in other countries, under different skies, and to whom the national +anthem "America" meant less and aroused fewer sentiments worth having +than that attractive two-step "St. Patrick's Day in the Morning," and +who were yet sufficiently powerful with the various "balances" of the +town to hold its political destinies in their itching palms.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Two months after this discussion the late Honorable Thaddeus Perkins, +ex-candidate, and Mayor of Dumfries Corners only by courtesy of those +who honor defeated candidates with titles for which they have striven +unsuccessfully, was strolling through the country along the line of the +Croton Aqueduct, trying to disentangle, with the aid of the fresh sweet +air of an early summer afternoon, an idea for a sonnet from the mazes of +his brain. Stopping for a moment to look down upon the glorious Hudson +stretching its shimmering length like a bimetallic serpent to the north +and south, he suddenly became conscious of a pair of very sharp eyes +resting upon him, which a closer inspection showed belonged to a laborer +of seemingly diminutive stature, who was engaged in carrying earth in a +wheelbarrow from one dirt-pile to another. As Thaddeus caught his eye +the laborer assumed towering proportions. He rose up quite two feet +higher in the air and bowed.</p> + +<p>"How do you do?" said Perkins, returning the salutation courteously, +wondering the while as to what might be the cause of this sudden change +of height.</p> + +<p>"Oi'm well—which is nothin' new to me," replied the other. "Ut sheems +to me," he continued, "thot youse resimbles thot smart young felly +Perkins, the Mayor of Dumfries Corners—not!"</p> + +<p>Perkins laughed. The sting of defeat had lost its power to annoy, and +his experience had become merely one of a thousand other nightmares of +the past.</p> + +<p>"Do I?" he replied, resolving not to confess his identity, for the +moment at least.</p> + +<p>"Only thinner," chuckled the laborer, shrinking up again; and Perkins +now saw that the legs of his new acquaintance were of an abnormally +unequal length, which forced him every time he shifted his weight from +one foot to the other to change his apparent height to a startling +degree. "An' a gude dale thinner," he repeated. "There's nothin' loike +polithical exersoize to take off th' flesh, parthicularly when ye miss +ut."</p> + +<p>"I fancy you are right," said Perkins. "I never met Mr. Perkins—that +is, face to face—myself. Do you know him?"</p> + +<p>The Irishman threw his head back and laughed.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said, "oi'm not wan uv his pershonal fri'nds. But oi know um +when oi see um," and he looked Thaddeus straight in the eye as he grew +tall again.</p> + +<p>"I'm sure it is Perkins's loss," returned Thaddeus, "that you are not a +personal friend of his."</p> + +<p>"It was," said the Irishman. "My name is Finn," he added, with an air +which seemed to assume that Perkins would begin to tremble at the +dreaded word; but Perkins did not tremble. He merely replied,</p> + +<p>"A very good name, Mr. Finn."</p> + +<p>"Oi t'ink so," assented Mr. Finn. "Ut's better nor Dinnis, me young +fri'nd."</p> + +<p>Perkins assented to this proposition as though it was merely general, +and had no particular application to the affairs of the moment. "I +suppose, Mr. Finn," he observed, shortly, "that you were one of the +earnest workers in the late campaign for Mr. Perkins?"</p> + +<p>"Was he elicted?" asked Finn, scornfully.</p> + +<p>"I believe not," began Thaddeus. "But—"</p> + +<p>"Thot's me answer to your quistion, sorr," said Finn, with dignity. +"He'd 'a' had lamps befoor his house now, sorr, if he hadn't been gay +wid his front dure."</p> + +<p>"Oh—he was gay with his front door, was he?" asked Perkins.</p> + +<p>"He was thot, an' not ony too careful uv his windy-shades," replied +Finn.</p> + +<p>Perkins looked at him inquiringly.</p> + +<p>"Givin' me, Mike Finn, song an' dance about not bein' home, wid me +fri'nds outside on the lawn watchin' him troo de windy, laffin' loike a +hayeny."</p> + +<p>"Excuse me—like a what?" said Thaddeus.</p> + +<p>"A hayeny," repeated Mr. Finn. "Wan o' thim woild bastes as laffs at +nothin' much. 'Is he home?' sez oi. 'Are yees a pershonal fri'nd?' says +the gurl. 'Oi'm not,' sez oi. 'He ain't home,' says the gurl. 'Whin'll +he be back?' says oi. 'Niver,' says she, shlammin' the dure in me face; +and Mike Finn wid a certifikut uv election for um in his pocket!"</p> + +<p>"A certificate of election?" cried Perkins. "And he wouldn't see you?"</p> + +<p>"He would not."</p> + +<p>"You were to an extent the balance of power, then?"</p> + +<p>"That's what oi was," said Finn, enjoying what he thought was Perkins's +dismay; for he knew well enough to whom he was talking. "Oi was the rale +bonyfiday balance uv power. Oi've got foive sons, sorr, and ivery wan o' +thim byes is conthracthors, or, what's as good, bosses uv gangs on +public an' proivate works. There ain't wan uv thim foive byes as don't +conthrol twinty-foive votes, an' there ain't wan uv 'em as don't moind +what the ould mon says to um. Not wan, sorr. An' they resints the +turnin' down uv their father."</p> + +<p>"That's as it should be," said Perkins.</p> + +<p>"An' ut's as ut was, me young fri'nd. Whin oi wint home to me pershonal +fri'nds at th' Finn Club, Misther Perkins had losht me. Wan gone. Whin +oi tould the Finn Club, wan hundred sthrong, he losht thim. Wan hundred +and wan gone. Whin oi tould th' byes, he losht thim. Wan hundred an' six +gone. An' whin they tould their twinty-foive apiece, ivery twinty-foive +o' thim wint. Wan hundred an' six plus wan hundred an' twinty-foive +makes two hundred an' thirty-wan votes losht at the shlammin' uv the +front dure. An' whin two hundred an' thirty-wan votes laves wan soide +minus an' the other soide plus, th' gineral result is a difference uv +twoice two hundred an' thirty-wan, or foor hundred an' sixty-two. D'ye +mind thot, sorr?"</p> + +<p>"I see," said Perkins. "And as this—ah—this particular candidate was +beaten by a bare majority of two or three hundred votes—"</p> + +<p>"It was <i>me</i> as done it!" put in the balance of power, shaking his +finger at Perkins impressively. "Me—Mike Finn!"</p> + +<p>"Well, I hope Mr. Perkins hears of it, Mr. Finn," put in Thaddeus. "I am +told that he is wondering yet what hit him, and having put the affront +upon you, and through that inexcusable act lost the election, he ought +to know that you were his Nemesis."</p> + +<p>"His what?" queried the real balance.</p> + +<p>"His Nemesis. Nemesis is the name of a Greek goddess," exclaimed +Perkins.</p> + +<p>"Oi'm no Greek, nor no goddess," retorted Finn, "but I give him the +throw-down."</p> + +<p>"That's what I meant," explained Thaddeus. "The word has become part of +the English language. Nemesis was the Goddess of the Throw-down, and the +word is used to signify that."</p> + +<p>"Oh, oi see," said Finn, scratching his head reflectively. Perkins took +his revelation a trifle too calmly. "You say you don't know this +Perkins," he asked.</p> + +<p>"Well, I never met him," said the ex-candidate, smiling. "But I know +him."</p> + +<p>Finn laughed again. "Oi'll bet ye do; an' oi guiss ye've seen his fa-ace +long about shavin'-toime in the mornin' in the lukin'-glash—eh?"</p> + +<p>"Well, yes," smiled Perkins. "I confess I'm the man, Mr. Finn; but now +we are—personal friends—eh? I was fagged out that night, and—you +didn't send in your card, you know—and I didn't know it was you." The +balance of power cast down his eyes, and rubbing his hand on his +overalls as if to clean it, stretched it out. Perkins grasped it, and +Finn gave a slight gulp. He wasn't quite happy. The proffered friendship +of the man he had helped to defeat rather upset him; but he was equal to +the occasion.</p> + +<p>"Niver moind, sorr," he said, when he had quite recovered. "You're young +yit. They've shoved yees out this toime, but wait awhoile. Yees'll be +back."</p> + +<p>"No, Mr. Finn," replied Perkins, handing Finn a cigar. "Thanks to you, I +got out of a tight hole, and as our maid said to you that night, I'll +'niver be back.' But if you happen down my way again, I'll be glad to +see you—at any time. Good-bye."</p> + +<p>The two parted, and Thaddeus walked home, thinking deeply of the +far-reaching effect in this life of little things; and as for Finn, he +bit off half the cigar Perkins had given him, and as he chewed upon it, +sitting on the edge of his barrow, he remarked forcibly to himself, +"Well, oi'll be daamned!"</p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="JARLEY'S_EXPERIMENT"></a><h2>JARLEY'S EXPERIMENT</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Jarley was an inventive genius. He invented things for the pleasure of +it rather than with any idea of ultimately profiting from the results of +his ingenuity, which may explain why it was that his friends deemed many +of his contrivances a sheer waste of time. Among other things that +Jarley invented was a tennis-racket which could be folded up and packed +away in a trunk. The fact that any ordinary tennis-racket could be +packed away in any ordinary trunk without being folded up was to Jarley +no good reason why he should not devote his energies to the production +of the compact weapon of sport which he called the Jarley Racket. He was +after novelty, and utility was always a secondary consideration with +him. Others of his inventions were somewhat more startling. "The Jarley +Ready Writing-Desk for Night Use," for instance, was a really +remarkable conception. Its chief value lay in the saving of gas and +midnight oil to impecunious writers which its use was said to bring +about, and when fully equipped consisted simply of a writing-table with +all the appliances and conveniences thereof treated with phosphorus in +such a manner that in the blackest of darkness they could all be seen +readily. The ink even was phosphorescent. The paper was luminous in the +dark. The penholders, pens, pen-wipers, mucilage-bottle, everything, in +fact, that an author really needs for the production of literature, save +ideas, were so prepared that they could not fail to be visible to the +weakest eye in the darkest night without the aid of other illumination. +The chief trouble with the invention was that in the long-run it was +more expensive than gas or oil could possibly be in the most extravagant +household; but that bothered Jarley not a jot. Nor was he at all upset +when his ingenious Library Folding-Bed, comprising a real bookcase and +sofa-couch, failed to suit his practical-minded friends because, when +turned down for use as a couch, all the books in the bookcase side of +it fell out upon the floor. His arrangement was better than the ordinary +folding-bed, he said, because the bookcase side of it was not a sham, +but the real thing, while that of the folding-bed of commerce was a +delusion and a snare. As a hater of shams he justified his invention, +though of course it couldn't be put to much practical use unless the +purchaser was willing to take his books out of the shelves when he +intended using the piece of furniture for sleeping purposes. If the +purchaser was too lazy to do this it was not Jarley's fault, so the +inventor reasoned, nor did he intend improving his machine in order to +accommodate the lazy man in his pursuit of a life of indolence.</p> + +<p>When Jarley married he turned his attention to the devising of apparatus +to make domestic life less trying to Mrs. Jarley. As a bachelor he had +contrived quite a number of mechanical effects which made his lonely +life easier. He had fitted up his rooms with devices by means of which, +while lying in bed on cold mornings, he could light his gas-stove +without getting up; and his cigars, the ends of which he had dipped in +sulphur, so that they could be lit by scratching them on the under side +of the mantel-piece, just as matches are ignited, were the delight of +his life. Now, however, he turned his mind towards helping little Mrs. +Jarley on in the domestic world. He prepared a chart by means of which +the monotony of marketing was done away with entirely. He also arranged +for her a charming automatic curl-paper box, and drew up a plan for a +patent pair of curling-tongs, which could be fastened to the gas-fixture +and kept heated to the degree required, so that it might be used at a +moment's notice. This was provided with a number of movable ends, all +different, in order that Mrs. Jarley could, if she chose, vary the +appearance of her curls according to her taste; and although the little +lady never approved of it sufficiently to have it made, it was +undoubtedly a valuable contrivance.</p> + +<p>Then when Jarley junior came along to delight the parent soul, +self-rocking cradles and perpetual reservoirs for food were devised, and +some of them put into actual use, though, as a rule, Mrs. Jarley +preferred the old-fashioned methods to which she was by her home +training more accustomed.</p> + +<p>The great invention of Jarley, however, was the result of his study of +Jarley junior as that very charming and exceedingly agile child +developed from infancy into boyhood. The idea came to him one Sunday +afternoon while Mrs. Jarley was at church. It was the nursemaid's +afternoon out, and Jarley had undertaken to care for Master Jarley in +the absence of his true guardians.</p> + +<p>"Well, Jack," he said to his son, when they had been left in sole +possession of the Jarley mansion, "you and I must entertain each other +this afternoon. What shall we do?"</p> + +<p>"I'd like to play choo-choo car with you," said Jack. "I'll be the +engine and you be the train."</p> + +<p>"Very well," said Jarley. "Have you got your steam up?"</p> + +<p>"Yeth," lisped Jack. "All aboard!"</p> + +<p>Jarley hitched himself on to the engine as best he could by grabbing +hold of Jack's little coat tail, and the train started. It was the most +tedious journey Jarley ever undertook. The train went up and down +stairs, out upon the piazza, and finally landed in the kitchen, where +the engine fired up on such fuel as gingerbread and cookies. +Incidentally the train, as represented by Jarley, took on a load of +freight, consisting of the same fuel, and off they started again. At the +end of a half-hour's run Jarley was worn out, but the engine seemed to +gather strength and speed the farther it travelled; and as it let out a +fearful shriek—possibly a whistle—every time the rear end of the train +suggested side-tracking and a cessation of traffic for a month or two, +Jarley in his indulgence invariably withdrew the proposition. The +consequence was that when Mrs. Jarley returned from church Jarley was a +wreck, and as he handed the engine over to the maternal care he observed +with some testiness that in a well-kept household it seemed to him +matters should be so arranged that a busy man should not be compelled to +turn himself into a child's nurse, especially on the one day of the week +which he could devote to rest and relaxation. "If I had that boy's +energy," he said to himself as he fled to his library, "what wonders I +would accomplish! What a shame it is, too, that the wasted energy of +youth cannot be stored up in some way, so that when there comes the real +need for it, it can be made available!"</p> + +<p>This thought was the germ of his invention. As he lay there in the +library he thought over the possibilities of life if the nervous force +of childhood, the misdirected energy of play-time, could only be put by +and drawn upon later just as man puts by the money he does not need in +the present for use in case of future rainy days. Then, as the sun sank +below the hills and the twilight hours with their inspiring softness +came on, Jarley resolved that he was the man to whom had come the +mission which should make of this ideal a reality. Probably in the full +glare of day he would not have undertaken it; but Jarley, in common with +most men of dreamy nature, felt in the quiet dusk the power to do all +things. He had the poetic temperament which sometimes leads on to great +things, and the man so gifted who does not feel himself capable, at that +hour of the day of rest, of battering down Gibraltar or of upbuilding +the whole human race, must account himself a failure.</p> + +<p>"I'll do it," he murmured, drowsily, to himself, and he did. How he did +it was Jarley's own secret, and while he confides many things to me, +this secret he kept, and still keeps. All I know is that he fitted up a +play-room for Jack on the attic floor, and by means of an apparatus, the +peculiarities of whose construction he alone knows, he managed after a +while to store up the superfluous energy which Jack expended upon +everything that he did. Every time Jack turned a somersault he +contributed, unknown to himself, something to the growing bulk of +hoarded force in the reservoir provided for its reception. All the +strength necessary for the somersault was devoted to that operation. The +superfluity went to the reservoir. So, also, when in his play of scaling +imaginary rocks after fictitious wild beasts he endeavored futilely to +walk up the play-room wall, the unavailing energy went to augment the +stores from which Jarley hoped to extract so much that would prove of +value to the world.</p> + +<p>When the reservoir was full the question that confronted Jarley was as +to the value of its contents, and to ascertain this he resolved upon an +experiment upon himself. No one else, he believed, would be willing to +subject himself to the experiment, nor did he wish at that time to let +others into his secret. Even Mrs. Jarley was not aware of his efforts, +and so he made the experiment. He liquefied the energy Jack had wasted, +and upon retiring one night took what he considered to be the proper +dose for the test. The effect was remarkable.</p> + +<p>When he rose up the next morning he experienced a consciousness of power +that reminded him of sundry tales of Samson. But there was one drawback. +He did not seem quite able to control himself. For instance, instead of +dressing in the usual dignified and quiet way, he found himself prancing +about his room like a young colt, and while he was taking his bath he +had a yearning for objects of juvenile <i>virtu</i> which had for many years +been strangers to his tub. He was not at all satisfied with his dip +plain and unadorned, and he had developed an unconquerable aversion for +soap. It was all he could do to restrain his inclination to call +vociferously for a number of small tin boats and birch-bark canoes, +without which Jack never bathed. He did conquer it, however, and at the +end of a half-hour managed to reach the end of his bath, though as a +rule he had hitherto rarely expended more than ten minutes in his +morning ablutions. Then came another difficulty. He found himself +utterly unable to stand still while he was putting on his clothes, and +finally Mrs. Jarley had to be called in to comb his hair for him. Jarley +himself could no more have taken the time to part it satisfactorily than +he could have flown.</p> + +<p>"What <i>is</i> the matter with you?" said Mrs. Jarley, as she made several +ineffectual attempts to get his truant locks into shape. "Have you +caught St. Vitus's dance?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing's the matter with me," returned Jarley, standing on one foot +and hopping up and down thereon. "I feel well, that's all."</p> + +<p>And then he tore out of the room, mounted the banisters, and slid +downstairs in an utterly unbecoming fashion, considering that he was a +man of thirty-five and the head of the house. He felt a little ashamed +of himself in the midst of this operation, particularly when he observed +that the waitress was standing in the hall below-stairs, looking at him +with eyes that betokened an astonishment as creditable to her as it was +disgraceful to him. He tried vainly to stop his wild descent when he +noted her presence. He clutched madly at the banisters, turning his +hands and knees into brakes in his effort to save his dignity; but once +started he could not stop, and as a consequence he went down like a +flash, slid precipitately over the newel-post, and landed with a cry of +mortification on the hall floor. He was not hurt, save in his +self-esteem, and gathering himself together, he endeavored to walk with +dignity into the dining-room; but he had hardly reached the door, when +he was overcome with a mad desire to whoop—and whoop he did. As a +consequence of the whoop Jack was scolded when Mrs. Jarley came down. +She had no idea that Jarley himself could be so blind to propriety as to +yell in so indecorous a fashion; and when poor little Jack was +upbraided, Jarley, despite his good intention to confess himself the +guilty party, discovered that the only act he was capable of was +giggling. Jack of course wept, and the more he wept the more Jarley +giggled, and was taken to task for encouraging the boy in his +misbehavior.</p> + +<p>During breakfast he was unusually demonstrative. He could not bring +himself to await his turn when the potatoes were passed, and in his +eagerness to get at them he overturned his coffee, which served to turn +the tables a little, for Jack giggled at the mishap, while Jarley became +the centre of Mrs. Jarley's displeasure. What was worse, Jarley, try as +he might, could not resist the temptation to kick the legs of the table, +and it was not until Mrs. Jarley had threatened to dismiss Jack from her +presence, supposing that he must, of course, be the offender, that +Jarley assumed the burden of his misbehavior.</p> + +<p>It was not until Jarley set out to his office, however, that he realized +the real horror of his condition. Instead of riding down-town on one +cable-car, as was his wont, he found himself trying, boy-like, to steal +a ride by jumping on a car platform and standing there until the +conductor came along, when he would hop off, ride a block or two on the +end of a truck, and then try a new car, so beating his way down-town. +Then he arrived at his office. I have neglected to state that while +invention was Jarley's avocation, he was by profession a lawyer, being +the junior member of a highly successful firm, at the head of which was +no less a person than the eminent William J. Baker, whose record at the +bar is too well known to require any further words of mine to recall him +to the minds of my readers. Jarley had not been in the office more than +ten minutes before he realized that he might better have remained at +home while the influence of Jack's wasted energy was within him. He was +in a state of irrepressibility. No matter how strongly he endeavored to +hold himself in check he could not do so, and his day down-town was like +the days of most boys who are permitted to spend a morning and an +afternoon with their parent in the workshop. The first thing he did on +reaching his desk was to roll back its folding top. This pleased him +unaccountably. He had never before imagined that so much fun could be +got out of the rolling top of a desk, and for a full quarter of an hour +he pulled it backward and forward, and so noisily withal that Mr. Baker +sent one of the clerks in to see if the office-boy had not become +suddenly insane.</p> + +<p>Recalled to his true self for the moment, Jarley endeavored to get down +to work, but as he made the endeavor he became conscious that a +revolving chair has very pleasing qualities to one who is fond of +twirling. Round and round he twirled, and as he twirled he grabbed up +his cane, and in a moment realized that he was playing that he was on a +merry-go-round, and trying to secure a renewal of his right to ride by +catching imaginary rings on the end of his stick. This operation +consumed quite five minutes more of his time, and was accompanied by +such a vast number of "Hoop-las" that Mr. Baker came himself to see what +was the cause of the unseemly racket. Fortunately for Jarley, just as +his partner reached the doorway, the chair had reached the limit of its +twirling capacity, and having been unscrewed as far as it could be, +toppled over on to the floor, with Jarley underneath. "What in the +world does this mean, Jarley?" said Mr. Baker, severely, as he assisted +his fallen partner to rise.</p> + +<p>"My chair has come apart," laughed Jarley, getting red in the face.</p> + +<p>"That's the great trouble with that kind of chair," said Mr. Baker. "You +don't seem to mind the mishap very much."</p> + +<p>"Oh no," said Jarley, gritting his teeth in his determination not to +follow his mad impulse to jump on Mr. Baker's shoulders and clamor for a +picky-back ride. "No; I don't mind little things like that much."</p> + +<p>Here he stood on his right leg, as he had done before breakfast, and +began to hop.</p> + +<p>"Hurt your foot?" queried Mr. Baker.</p> + +<p>Jarley seized at the suggestion with all the despairing vigor of a +drowning man clutching at a rope.</p> + +<p>"Yes; a little, but not enough to mention," he said; whereupon, much to +his relief, Mr. Baker turned away and went back to his own room.</p> + +<p>"This will never do," Jarley moaned to himself when his partner had +gone. "If one of my clients should come in—"</p> + +<p>Then he stopped and grinned like a mischievous lad. He had caught sight +of an old water-meter that had been used as an exhibit in a case he had +once tried against the city in behalf of an inventor, who had been led +to believe that the water board would adopt his patent and compel every +householder to buy one for the registration of water consumed. What fun +it would be to take that apart, he thought, and thinking thus was enough +to set him about the task. He locked his door, moved the strange-looking +contrivance out into the middle of the room, and tried to unscrew the +top of it with his eraser. The delicate blade of this improvised +screw-driver snapped off in an instant, whereupon Jarley tried the +scissors, with similar results. After a half-hour of this he gave up the +idea of taking the meter apart, but his soul immediately became +possessed of another idea, which was to see if it worked. The pursuit of +this brought him the most deliriously joyful sensations; and for an hour +he devoted himself to filling the machine up with water drawn from a +faucet at one side of his room, and poured into the meter from a +drinking-glass. It was not until the hour was up that he observed that +the water after passing through the meter came out upon the carpet, and +it is probable that even then he would not have noticed it had not the +tenants below sent up to inquire if there was not something wrong with +the water-pipes overhead.</p> + +<p>When Jarley realized what had happened he wisely determined to give up +business for the day. While the spirit of Jack was within him, the +business he might transact was not likely to prove of value to himself +or to any one else. So he put on his hat and coat, called a cab, and +started for home. His experiences in the cab were quite of a kind with +the experiences of the morning, and attended with no little personal +danger. He would lean against the cab door and put his arm out and try +to touch horse-cars as they passed. Once or twice he nearly had his head +knocked off by sticking it out of the windows; but by some happy chance +he got interested in the cab curtains and the inviting little strings, +which, when pulled, made them fly up with a snap. Absorbed in this +occupation, he drove on, and gave up all such dangerous experiments as +playing tag with horse-cars and trucks, and arrived at home in time for +luncheon unhurt.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Jarley was somewhat alarmed at the unexpected return of Mr. Jarley, +but was content with his explanation that while he never felt better in +his life, he deemed it best to return and attend to his work in the +privacy of his own home. For the proper accomplishment of this work he +said that he thought he would use Jack's nursery on the attic floor, +where he could be quiet, and he asked as an especial favor that he might +be left alone with Jack for the balance of the day.</p> + +<p>He had made up his mind that his experiment, while a success in one +way, were not what he expected in another way. He had found Jack's +energy very energetic indeed, but not suited for adult use, and he even +found himself wondering why he had not thought of that before. However, +the thing to do now was to get rid of that spirit as soon as possible. +If it had become permanently a part of him, he had reached his second +childhood, which for a man of thirty-five is a disturbing thought. So +disturbing was it that Jarley resolved upon a heroic measure to cure +himself. <i>Similia similibus</i> struck him as being the only possible cure, +and so, regardless of the possible consequences to his physical being, +he "permitted" Jack to be with him up-stairs "while he worked," as he +put it to Mrs. Jarley, though all others were forbidden to approach.</p> + +<p>The result was as he had foreseen. Jack's energy in Jack, pure and +unadulterated, had very little trouble in wearing out the diluted energy +which his father had acquired from his superfluous stores, and night +coming on found Jarley, after a three hours' steady circus with his son, +in his normal condition mentally. But physically! What a poor wreck of a +human system was his when the last bit of the boyish spirit was +consumed! Had he worked at brick-laying for a week without rest Jarley +could not have been more prostrated physically. But he was happy. His +tests had proved that he could do certain things, but the results he had +expected as to the value of those things were not what he had hoped for. +At any rate, his experiment gave him greater sympathy with his boy than +he had ever had before, and they have become great chums. The greatest +disappointment of the whole affair is Jack's, who wonders why it is that +he and his father have no more afternoon acrobatics such as they had in +the play-room that day, but until he is a good many years older his +father cannot tell him, for the boy could not in the present stage of +his intellectual development understand him if he tried.</p> + +<p>As for Mr. Baker and the people at the office, they were not at all +astonished to hear the next day that Jarley was laid up, and would +probably, not appear at the office again for a week, although they were +a little surprised when they learned that his trouble was rheumatism, +and not softening of the brain.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="JARLEY'S_THANKSGIVING"></a><h2>JARLEY'S THANKSGIVING</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Jarley was in a blue mood the night before Thanksgiving. Things hadn't +gone quite to suit him during the year. He had lost two of his most +profitable clients—men upon whom for two years previously he had been +able to count for a steady income. It is true that he had lost them by +winning their respective suits, and had made two strong friends by so +doing; but, as he once put it to Mrs. Jarley, the worst position a man +could possibly get himself into was that of one who is long on friends +and short on income. He did not underestimate the value of friends, but +he didn't want too many of them; because beyond a certain number they +became luxuries rather than necessities, and his financial condition was +such that he could not afford luxuries.</p> + +<p>"I love them all," he said, "but I haven't money enough to entertain a +quarter of them. The last time Billie Hicks was up here he smoked +sixteen Invincible cigars. Now, I am very fond of Billie Hicks, but with +cigars at twenty cents apiece I can't afford him more than one Sunday in +a year. He's getting a little cold because I haven't asked him up +since."</p> + +<p>"Why don't you buy cheaper cigars? At our grocery store they have some +very nice looking ones at two for five cents," suggested Mrs. Jarley.</p> + +<p>"I don't wish to have to move out of the house," said Jarley.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Jarley failed to see the connection.</p> + +<p>"Very likely you don't," said Jarley; "but if I smoked one of your +two-and-a-half-cent grocery cigars in this house, you'd see the point in +a minute. If you will get me a yard of cotton cloth, and let me put it +in the furnace fire, you'll get a fair idea of the kind of atmosphere +we'd be breathing if I allowed a cigar like that to be lit within fifty +feet of the front door."</p> + +<p>"But you can get a good cigar for ten cents, can't you?" Mrs. Jarley +asked. "Yes—very good," assented Jarley; "but Billie would probably +smoke thirty-two of those, and carry three or four away with him in his +pockets. I'd lose even more that way. It's a singular thing about +friends. They have some conscience about Invincible cigars, but they'll +take others by the handful."</p> + +<p>Jarley was also somewhat blue upon this occasion because none of his +inventions—the little things he thought out in his leisure moments, and +out of some of which he had hoped to gain a deal of profit—had been +successful. The public had refused to place any confidence whatsoever in +his patent reversible spats, which, when turned inside out, could be +made useful as galoches; and the beaux of New York actually rejected +with scorn the celluloid chrysanthemum, which he had hoped would become +a popular boutonnière because of its durability and cheapness. An +impecunious young man with care could make one fifteen-cent +chrysanthemum of the Jarley order last through a whole season, and it +could be colored to suit the wearer's taste with the ordinary +paint-boxes that children so delight in; but in spite of this the +celluloid chrysanthemum was a distinct failure, and Jarley had had his +trouble for his pains, to say nothing of the cost of the model. But +worst of all the failures, because of the prospective losses its failure +entailed, was the Jarley safety lightning razor. Its failure was not due +to any lack of merit, for it certainly possessed much that was ingenious +and commendable. The affair was not different in principle from a +lawn-mower. Six little sharp blades set on a cylinder would revolve +rapidly as the pretty machine was pushed up and down the cheek of the +person shaving, and leave the face of that person as smooth as a piece +of velvet; but in announcing it to the world its inventor had made the +unfortunate statement that a child could use it with impunity, and some +would-be smart person on a comic paper took it up and wrote an +undeniably clever article on the futility of inventing a razor for +children. The consequence was that the safety razor was laughed out of +existence, and the additions to his residence which Jarley was going to +pay for out of the proceeds had to be abandoned.</p> + +<p>"I don't like a blue funk," he said, "and generally I can find +something to be thankful for at this season; but I'm blest if this year, +beyond the fact that we're all alive, I can see any cause for +celebrating my thankfulness. I haven't enough of it to last ten minutes, +much less a day, what with the positive failure of my inventions, the +loss of income from what I once considered safe investments that have +gone to the wall, and the reduction of my professional earnings, not to +mention the fact that almost at the beginning of my professional year I +am as tired physically and mentally as I ought to be at the finish."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, say you are thankful, anyhow," suggested Mrs. Jarley. "You +will convince others that you are, and maybe, if you say it often +enough, you will convince yourself of the fact."</p> + +<p>"Thanks," said Jarley. "It's possibly a good suggestion, but I don't +believe in pretending to be what I'm not. It might convince me that I am +thankful for something, but I don't want to be convinced when I know I'm +not."</p> + +<p>Which shows, I think, how very blue Jarley was.</p> + +<p>"There's one thing," he added, with a sigh of relief at the +thought—"I'll have a day of rest to-morrow anyhow. I've bought Jack a +football, and he can take it out on the tennis-court and play with it +all day, with intervals for meals."</p> + +<p>"Why did you do that?" asked Mrs. Jarley, with a gesture not so much of +indignation as of disapproval. "I think football is such a brutal game; +and if Jack has a football at his present age, when he's in college +he'll want to play. I don't want to have my boy wearing his hair like a +Comanche Indian, and coming home with broken ribs and dislocated limbs."</p> + +<p>"We'll let the broken ribs of 1904 and the wig of the same period +suffice for the evils of that year," retorted Jarley. "It's the present +I'm looking after, not the future ten or twelve years removed. If Jack +hasn't that football to-morrow he'll have me, and I've no desire in the +present condition of my physical well-being to be used by him as a +plaything. Deprived of the leathern ball, he might use me as a football +instead, and I must rest. That's all there is about it. Besides, if he +becomes an aspirant for football honors now it will be a good thing for +him. He'll take care of himself and try to improve his physique if he +once gets the notion in his head that he wants to go on a university +eleven. I want my boy to learn to be a man, and the football ambition is +likely to be a very useful aid in that direction. He knits reins very +well with a spool and a pin now, and I think it's time he graduated in +that art, unless the woman of the future, of whom we hear so much, is to +take man's place to such an extent that the man will have to take up +woman's work. If I thought the masculine tendency of our present-day +girls was likely to go much further, I might consent to the effemination +of Jack simply to secure his comfort as a married man of the future; but +I don't think that, and in consequence Jack is going to be brought up as +a boy, and not as a girl. The football goes."</p> + +<p>This remark was another indication of Jarley's depression. He rarely +combated Mrs. Jarley's ideas, and when he did, and with a certain air of +irritation, it was invariably a sign of his low mental state.</p> + +<p>"When you say that the football goes, do you mean that it stays?" +queried Mrs. Jarley, who was a little tired herself, and could not, +therefore, resist the temptation to indulge in a bit of innocent +repartee.</p> + +<p>"I do," said Jarley, shortly. "Goes is sometimes a synonym for stays. +When I feel stronger I may invent a new language, which will have fewer +absurdities than English as she is spoke."</p> + +<p>And with this Jarley went to bed, and slept the sleep of the just man +who is truly weary.</p> + +<p>If he had foreseen the result of his football investment it is doubtful +if his sleep would have been so tranquil—unless, perchance, he were +fashioned after that rare pattern of mankind, Louis XVI. of France, who +called for his six or seven course dinner with a mob of howling, +bloodthirsty Parisians in his antechamber, and who on the eve of his +execution slept well, despite his knowledge that within fifteen hours +his head would in all probability be lopped off by the guillotine to +gratify the lust for blood which was the chief characteristic of the +promoters of the first French Republic.</p> + +<p>At six on the morning of Thanksgiving Day Jarley was sleeping +peacefully, but the youthful Jack was not. Thanksgiving Day was not a +holiday in his eyes, but a day set apart for work, thanks to his +father's indulgence in providing him with a football. He had gone to bed +the night before with the ball hugged tightly to his breast; and along +about ten o'clock, when Jarley himself had gone into the nursery to put +that treasured good-night kiss upon the forehead of his sleeping boy, +tired as he was and blue as he was, he had difficulty in repressing the +laughter that manifested itself within him, for Jack lay prone, face +upward, with the football under the small of his back, and seemingly as +comfortable as though he were resting upon eider-down.</p> + +<p>"That is certainly a characteristic football attitude," Jarley said, +when Mrs. Jarley had come to see what had caused her husband's chuckle.</p> + +<p>"Yes—and so good for the spine!" returned Mrs. Jarley.</p> + +<p>The attitude was changed, but the ball was left where Jack would see it +the first thing on awaking in the morning. At six, as I have said, +Jarley was sleeping peacefully, but Jack was not. He had opened his +eyes some minutes before, and on catching sight of his treasured +football he began to grin. The grin grew wider and wider, until +apparently it got too wide for the bed, and the boy leaped out of his +couch upon the floor. The first thing he did was to pat the ball gently +but firmly, very much as a kitten manifests its interest in a ball of +yarn. Then his attentions to his new plaything grew more pronounced and +vigorous, and within fifteen minutes it had been chased out of the +nursery into the parental bedchamber. Still Jarley slept. Mrs. Jarley +was merely half asleep. She tried to tell Jack to be quiet; but she was +not quite wide awake enough to do so as forcibly as was necessary, and +the result was that instead of abating his ardor, Jack plunged into his +sport more vigorously than ever.</p> + +<p>And then Jarley was awakened—and what an awakening it was! Not one of +those peaceful comings-to that betoken the tranquil mind after a good +rest, but a return to consciousness with every warlike tendency in his +being aroused to the highest pitch. Jack had passed the ball with +considerable momentum on to the mantel-piece, which sent it backward on +the rebound to no less a feature than the nose of the slumbering Jarley.</p> + +<p>"What the deuce was that?" cried Jarley, sitting up straight in bed. He +had forgotten all about the football, and to his suddenly restored +consciousness it seemed as if the ceiling must have fallen. Then he +rubbed his nose, which still ached from the force of the impact between +itself and the ball.</p> + +<p>"It was the ball did it, papa," said Jack, meekly. "'Twasn't me."</p> + +<p>In an instant Jarley was on the floor; and Jack, scenting trouble, +incontinently fled. The parent was angry from the top of his head to the +soles of his feet, but as the soles of his feet touched the floor his +anger abated. After all, Jack hadn't meant to hurt him, and having +witnessed several games of football, he knew how innately perverse an +oval-shaped affair like the ball itself could be. Furthermore, there was +Mrs. Jarley, who had disapproved of his purchase from the outset. If he +wreaked vengeance upon poor little Jack for his unwitting offence, +Jarley knew that he would in a measure weaken his position in the +argument of the night before. So, instead of chastising Jack, as he +really felt inclined to do, he picked up the ball, and repairing to the +nursery, summoned the boy to him in his sweetest tones.</p> + +<p>"Never mind, old chap," he said, as Jack appeared before him. "I know +you didn't mean it; but you must play in here until it is time for you +to go out. Papa is very sleepy, and you disturb him."</p> + +<p>"All right," said Jack. "I'll play in here. I forgot."</p> + +<p>Then Jarley patted Jack on the head, rubbed his nose again dubiously, +for it still smarted from the effects of the blow it had sustained, and +retired to his bed once more. If he fondly hoped to sleep again, he soon +found that his hope was based upon a most shifting foundation, for the +whoops and cries and noises of all sorts, vocal and otherwise, that +emanated from the next room destroyed all possibility of his doing +anything of the sort. At first the very evident enjoyment of his son and +heir, as Jarley listened to his goings-on in the nursery, amused him +more or less; but his quiet smile soon turned to one of blank dismay +when he heard a thunderous roar from Jack, followed by a crash of glass. +Again springing from his bed, Jarley rushed into the nursery.</p> + +<p>"Well, what's happened now?" he asked.</p> + +<p>Jack's under lip curved in the manner which betokens tears ready to be +shed.</p> + +<p>"Nun-nothing," he sobbed. "I was just k-kicking a goal, and that picture +got in the way."</p> + +<p>Jarley looked for the picture that had got in the way, and at once +perceived that it would never get in the way again, since it was +irretrievably ruined. However, he was not overcome by wrath over this +incident, because the picture was not of any particular value. It was +only a highly colored print of three cats in a basket, which had come +with a Sunday newspaper, and had been cheaply framed and hung up in the +nursery because Jack had so willed. On principle Jarley had to show a +certain amount of displeasure over the accident, and he did as well as +he could under the circumstances, and retired.</p> + +<p>For a while Jack played quietly enough, and Jarley was just about +dozing off into that delicious forty winks prior to getting up when +shrieks from the second Jarley boy came from the nursery. This time Mrs. +Jarley, with one or two expressions of natural impatience, deemed it her +duty to interfere. Jarley, she reasoned, had a perfect right to spoil +Jack if he pleased, but he had no right to permit Jack to do bodily +injury to Tommy; and as Tommy was making the house echo and re-echo with +his wails, she deemed it her duty to take a hand. Jarley meanwhile +pretended to sleep. He was as wide awake as he ever was; but the +atmosphere was not full of warmth, and upon this occasion, as well as +upon many others, his conscience permitted him to overlook the +shortcomings of his elder son, and to assume a somnolence which, while +it was not real, certainly did conduce to the maintenance of his +personal comfort. Mrs. Jarley, therefore, rose up in her wrath. It was +merely a motherly wrath, however, and those of us who have had mothers +will at once realize what that wrath amounted to. She repaired +immediately to the nursery, and without knowing anything of the +technical terms of the noble game of football, instinctively realized +that Jack and Tommy were having a "scrimmage." That is to say, she was +confronted with a structure made up as follows: basement, the ball; +first story, Tommy, with his small and tender stomach placed directly +over the ball; second story and roof, Jack, lying stomach upward and +wiggling, his back accurately registered on Tommy's back, to the +detriment and pain of Tommy.</p> + +<p>"Get <i>up</i>, Jack!" Mrs. Jarley cried. "What on earth are you trying to do +to Tommy? Do you want to kill him?"</p> + +<p>"Nome," Jack replied, innocently. "He wanted to play football, and I'm +letting him. He's Harvard and I'm Yale."</p> + +<p>A smothered laugh from the adjoining room showed that Jarley was not so +soundly sleeping that he could not hear what was going on. Tommy +meanwhile continued to wail.</p> + +<p>"Well, get up,—right away!" cried Mrs. Jarley. "I sha'n't have you +abusing Tommy this way."</p> + +<p>"Ain't abusin' him," retorted Jack, rising. "I was 'commodatin' him. He +wanted to play. When I don't let him play I get scolded, and when I do +let him I'm scolded. 'Pears to me you don't want me to do anything."</p> + +<p>Thus Thanksgiving Day began, not altogether well, but equanimity was +soon restored all around, and everything might have run smoothly from +that time on had not a cold drizzling rain set in about breakfast-time. +It was clearly to be an in-door day. And what a day it was!</p> + +<p>At ten o'clock the football came into play again.</p> + +<p>At eleven the score stood: one clock knocked off the mantel-piece in the +library; three chandelier globes broken to bits; one plaster Barye bear +destroyed by a low kick from the parlor floor; Tommy with his nose very +nearly out of joint, thanks to a flying wedge represented by Jack; Mrs. +Jarley's amiability in peril, and Jarley's irritability well developed.</p> + +<p>At twelve the ball was confiscated, but restored at twelve-five for the +sake of peace and quiet.</p> + +<p>At one, dinner was served and eaten in moody silence, Jack having +inadvertently punted the ball through the pantry, grazing the chignon +of the waitress, and landing in the mayonnaise. It was not a happy +dinner, and Jarley began to wish either that he had never been born or +that all footballs were in Ballyhack, wherever that might be.</p> + +<p>"If it would only clear off!" he moaned. "That boy needs a playground as +big as the State of Texas anyhow, and here we are cooped up in the +house, with a football added."</p> + +<p>"We'll have to take it away from him," said Mrs. Jarley, "or else you'll +have to take Jack up into the attic and play with him. I can't have +everything in the house smashed."</p> + +<p>"We'll compromise on Jack's going to the attic. I have no desire to play +football," returned Jarley; and this was the plan agreed upon. It would +have been a good plan if Jarley had expended some of his inventive +genius upon some such game as football solitaire, and instructed Jack +therein beforehand; but this he had not done, and the result was that at +three o'clock Jarley found himself in the attic involved in a furious +game, in which he represented variously Harvard, the goal, the +goal-posts, the referee, and acting with too great frequency as +understudy for the ball. What he was not, Jack was, and the worst part +of it was that there was no tiring Jack. The longer he played, the +better he liked it. The oftener Jarley's shins received kicks intended +for the football, the louder he laughed. When Jarley, serving as a +goal-post, stood at one end of the attic, Jarley junior, standing +several yards away, often appeared to mistake him for two goal-posts, +and to make an honest effort to kick the ball through him. Slowly the +hours passed, until finally six o'clock struck, and Master Jack's supper +was announced.</p> + +<p>The day was over at last. Wearily Jarley dragged himself down the stairs +and reckoned up the day's losses. In glass and bric-à-brac destroyed he +was some twenty or thirty dollars out. In mayonnaise dressing lost at +dinner through the untoward act of the football he was out one +pleasurable sensation to his palate, and Jarley was one of those, to +whom, that is a loss of an irreparable nature. In bodily estate he was +practically a bankrupt. Had he bicycled all morning and played golf all +the afternoon he could not have been half so weary. Had he been thrown +from a horse flat upon an asphalt pavement he could not have been half +so bruised; all of which Mrs. Jarley considerately noted, and with an +effort recovered her amiability for her husband's sake, so that after +eight o'clock, at which hour Jack retired to bed, a little rest was +obtainable, and Jarley's equanimity was slowly restored.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Mrs. Jarley, as they went up-stairs at eleven, "it hasn't +been a very peaceful day, has it, dear?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, that all depends on how you spell peace. If you spell it p-i-e-c-e, +it's been full of pieces," returned Jarley, with a smile; "but I say, my +dear, I want to modify my statement last night that I had nothing to be +thankful for. I have discovered one great blessing."</p> + +<p>"What's that—a football?" queried Mrs. Jarley.</p> + +<p>"Not by ten thousand long shots!" cried Jarley. "No, indeed. It's this: +I'm more thankful than I can express that Jack is not twins. If he had +been, you'd have been a widow this evening."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="HARRY_AND_MAUDE_AND_ImdashALSO_JAMES"></a><h2>HARRY AND MAUDE AND I—ALSO JAMES</h2> +<br /> + +<p>We both loved Maude deeply, and Maude loved us. We know that, because +Maude told us so. She told Harry so one Sunday evening on the way home +from church, and she told me so the following Saturday afternoon on the +way to the matinée.</p> + +<p>This was the cause of the dispute Harry and I had in the club corner +that Saturday night. Harry and I are confidants, and neither of us has +secrets that the other does not share, and so, of course, Maude's +feeling towards each of us was fully revealed.</p> + +<p>We did not quarrel over it, for Harry and I never quarrel. I want to +quarrel, but it is a peculiar thing about me that I always want to +quarrel with men named Harry, but never can quite do it. Harry is a name +which, <i>per se</i>, arouses my ire, but which carries with it also the +soothing qualities which dispel irritation.</p> + +<p>This is a point for the philosopher, I think. Why is it that we cannot +quarrel with some men bearing certain names, while with far better men +bearing other names we are always at swords' points? Who ever quarrelled +with a man who had so endeared himself to the world, for instance, that +the world spoke of him as Jack, or Bob, or Willie? And who has not +quarrelled with Georges and Ebenezers and Horaces <i>ad lib</i>., and been +glad to have had the chance?</p> + +<p>But this is a thing apart. This time we have set out to tell that other +story which is always mentioned but never told.</p> + +<p>Maude loved us. That was the point upon which Harry and I agreed. We had +her authority for it; but where we differed was, which of the two did +she love the better?</p> + +<p>Harry, of course, took his own side in the matter. He is a man of +prejudice, and argues from sentiment rather than from conviction.</p> + +<p>He said that on her way home from church a girl's thoughts are of +necessity solemn, and her utterances are therefore, the solemn truth. He +added that, in a matter of such importance as love, the conclusion +reached after an hour or two of spiritual reflection and instruction, +such as church in the evening inspires, is the true conclusion.</p> + +<p>On the other hand, I maintained that human nature has something to do +with women. Very little, of course, but still enough to make my point a +good one. It is human nature for a girl to prefer matinées to Sunday +evening services. This is sad, no doubt, but so are some other great +truths. Maude, as a true type of girlhood, would naturally think more of +the man who was taking her to a matinée than of the fellow who was +escorting her home from church, therefore she loved me better than she +did Harry, and he ought to have the sense to see it and withdraw.</p> + +<p>Unfortunately, Harry is near-sighted in respect to arguments evolved by +the mind of another, though in the perception of refinements in his own +reasoning he has the eye of the eagle. "Love on the way to a matinée," +he said, "is one part affection and nine parts enthusiasm."</p> + +<p>"And love on the return from church is in all ten parts temporary +aberration," I returned. "It is what you might call Seventh Day +affection. Quiet, and no doubt sincere, but it is dissipated by the +rising of the Monday sun. It is like our good resolutions on New Year's +Day, which barely last over a fortnight. Some little word spoken by the +rector may have aroused in her breast a spark of love for you, but one +spark does not make a conflagration. Properly fanned it may develop into +one, but in itself it is nothing more than a spark. Who can say that it +was not pity that led Maude to speak so to you? Your necktie may have +been disarranged without your knowing it, and at a time when she could +not tell you of it. That sort of thing inspires pity, and you know as +well as I do that pity and love are cousins, but cousins who never +marry. You are favored, but not to the extent that I am."</p> + +<p>"You argue well," returned Harry, "but you ignore the moon. In the +solemn presence of the great orb of night no woman would swear falsely."</p> + +<p>"You prick your argument with your point," I answered. "There were no +extraneous arguments brought to bear on Maude when she confessed to me +that she loved me. It was done in the cold light of day. There was no +moon around to egg her on when she confessed her affection for me. I +know the moon pretty well myself, and I know just what effect it has on +truth. I have told falsehoods in the moonlight that I knew were +falsehoods, and yet while Luna was looking on, no creature in the +universe could have convinced me of their untruthfulness. The moon's +rays have kissed the Blarney-stone, Harry. A moonlight truth is a +noonday lie."</p> + +<p>"Doesn't the genial warmth of the sun ever lead one from the path of +truth?" queried Harry, satirical of manner.</p> + +<p>"Yes," I answered. "But not in a horse-car with people treading on your +feet."</p> + +<p>"What has that to do with it?" Harry asked.</p> + +<p>"It was on a Broadway car that Maude confessed," I answered.</p> + +<p>Harry looked blue. His eyes said:</p> + +<p>"Gad! How she must love you!" But his lips said: "Ho! Nonsense!"</p> + +<p>"It is the truth," said I, seeing that Harry was weakening. "As we were +waiting for the car to come along I said to her: 'Maude, I am not the +man I ought to be, but I have one redeeming quality: I love you to +distraction.'</p> + +<p>"She was about to reply when the car came. We were requested to step +lively. We did so, and the car started. Then as we stood in the crowded +aisle of the car we spoke in enigmas.</p> + +<p>"'Did you hear what I said, Maude?' I asked.</p> + +<p>"'Yes,' said she, gazing softly out of the window, and a slight touch of +red coming into her cheeks. 'Yes, I heard.'</p> + +<p>"'And what is your reply?' I whispered.</p> + +<p>"'So do I,' she answered, with a sigh."</p> + +<p>Harry laughed, and so irritatingly that had his name been Thomas I +should have struck him.</p> + +<p>"What is the joke?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"You won't think it's funny," Harry answered.</p> + +<p>"Then it must be a poor joke," I retorted, a little nettled.</p> + +<p>"Well, it's on you," he said. "You have simply shown me that Maude +never told you she loved you. That's the joke."</p> + +<p>I was speechless with wrath, but my eyes spoke. "How have I shown that?" +they asked in my behalf.</p> + +<p>"You say that you told Maude that <i>you</i> loved <i>her</i> to distraction. To +which declaration she replied, 'So do I.' Where there is in that any +avowal that <i>she</i> loves <i>you</i> I fail to see. She simply stated that she +too loved herself to distraction, and I breathe again."</p> + +<p>"Hair-splitting!" said I, wrathfully.</p> + +<p>"No—side-splitting!" returned Harry, with a roar of laughter. "Now my +declaration was very different from yours. It was made when Maude and I +were walking home from church. It was about nine o'clock, and the +streets were bathed in mellow moonlight. I declared myself because I +could not help myself. I had no intention of doing so when I started out +earlier in the evening, but the uplifting effect of the service of song +at church, combined with the most romantic kind of a moon, forced me +into it. I told her I was a struggler; that I was not yet able to +support a wife; and that while I did not wish to ask any pledge from +her, I could not resist telling her that I loved her with all my heart +and soul."</p> + +<p><i>I</i> began to feel blue. "And what did she say?" I asked, a little +hoarsely.</p> + +<p>"She said she returned my affection."</p> + +<p>I braced up. "Ha, ha, ha!" I laughed. "This time the joke is on you."</p> + +<p>"I fail to see it," he said.</p> + +<p>"Of course," I retorted. "It is not one of your jokes. But say, Harry, +when you send a poem to a magazine and the editor doesn't want it, what +does he do with it?"</p> + +<p>"Returns it. Ah!"</p> + +<p>The "ah" was a gasp.</p> + +<p>"You are the hair-splitter this time," said he, ruefully.</p> + +<p>"I am," said I. "I could effectually destroy a whole wig of hairs like +that. If you are right in your reasoning as to Maude's love for me, I am +right as regards her love for you. We are both splitting hairs in most +unprofitable fashion."</p> + +<p>"We are," said Harry, with a sigh.</p> + +<p>"There is only one way to settle the matter."</p> + +<p>"And that?"</p> + +<p>"Let's call around there now and ask her."</p> + +<p>"I am agreeable," said I.</p> + +<p>"Often," said Harry, ringing for our coats.</p> + +<p>In a few moments we were ready to depart; and as we stepped out into the +night, whom should we run up against but that detestable Jimmie Brown!</p> + +<p>"Whither away, boys?" he asked; in his usual bubblesome manner.</p> + +<p>"We are going to make a call."</p> + +<p>"Ah! Well, wait a minute, won't you? I have some news. I'm in great +luck, and I want you fellows to join me in a health to the future Mrs. +B."</p> + +<p>"Engaged at last, eh, Brown?" said Harry.</p> + +<p>I did not speak, for I felt a sudden and most depressing sinking of the +heart.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Brown; and then he told us to whom.</p> + +<p>It is not necessary to mention the lady's name. Suffice it to say that +Harry and I both returned to our corner in the club, discarded our +overcoats, and talked about two subjects.</p> + +<p>The first was the weather.</p> + +<p>The second, the fickleness of women.</p> + +<p>Incidentally we agreed that there was something irritating about certain +names, and on this occasion James excited our ire somewhat more than was +normal.</p> + +<p>But we did not lick James. We had too much regard for some one else to +split a hair of his head.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="AN_AFFINITIVE_ROMANCE"></a><h2>AN AFFINITIVE ROMANCE</h2> + + +<h3>I</h3> + +<h4>MR. AUGUSTUS RICHARDS'S IDEAL</h4> + +<p>Mr. Augustus Richards was thirty years of age and unmarried. He could +afford to marry, and he had admired many women, but none of them came up +to his ideals. Miss Fotheringay, for instance, represented his notions +as to what a woman should be physically, but intellectually he found +her wofully below his required standard. She was tall and +stately—Junoesque some people called her—but in her conversation she +was decidedly flippant. She was interested in all the small things of +life, but for the great ones she had no inclination. She preferred a +dance with a callow youth to a chat with a man of learning. She +worshipped artificial in-door life, but had no sympathy with nature. +The country she abominated, and her ideas of rest consisted solely in a +change of locality, which was why she went to Newport every summer, +there to indulge in further routs and dances when she wearied of the +routs and dances of New York.</p> + +<p>Miss Patterson, on the other hand, represented to the fullest degree +the intellectual standard Mr. Augustus Richards had set up for the +winner of his affections. She was fond of poetry and of music. She was a +student of letters, and a clever talker on almost all the arts and +sciences in which Mr. Augustus Richards delighted. But, alas! physically +she was not what he could admire. She was small and insignificant in +appearance. She was pallid-faced, and, it must be confessed, extremely +scant of locks; and the idea of marrying her was to Mr. Augustus +Richards little short of preposterous. Others, there were, too, who +attracted him in some measure, but who likewise repelled him in +equal, if not greater measure.</p> + +<p>What he wanted, Mrs. Augustus Richards to be was a composite of the +best in the beautiful Miss Fotheringay, the intellectual Miss +Patterson, the comfortably rich but extremely loud Miss Barrows, with a +dash of the virtues of all the others thrown in.</p> + +<p>For years he looked for such a one, but season after season passed away +and the ideal failed to materialize, as unfortunately most ideals have a +way of doing, and hither and yon Mr. Augustus Richards went unmarried, +and, as society said, a hopelessly confirmed old bachelor—more's the +pity.</p> +<br /> + +<hr style="idth: 45%;"> + +<h3>II</h3> + +<h4>MISS HENDERSON'S STANDARD</h4> + +<p>Miss Flora Henderson was born and bred in Boston, and, like Mr. Augustus +Richards, had reached the age of thirty without having yielded to the +allurements of matrimony. This was not because she had not had the +opportunity, for opportunity she had had in greatest measure. She made +her first appearance in society at the age of seventeen, and for every +year since that interesting occasion she had averaged four proposals of +marriage; and how many proposals that involved, every person who can +multiply thirteen by four can easily discover. Society said she was +stuck up, but she knew she wasn't. She did not reject men for the mere +love of it. It was not vanity that led her to say no to so many adoring +swains; it was simply the fact that not one in all the great number of +would-be protectors represented her notions as to the style of man with +whom she could be so happy that she would undertake the task of making +him so.</p> + +<p>Miles Dawson, for instance, was the kind of man that any ordinary girl +would have snapped up the moment he declared himself. He had three +safe-deposit boxes in town, and there was evidence in sight that he did +not rent them for the purpose of keeping cigars in them. He had several +horses and carriages. He was a regular attendant upon all the social +functions of the season, and at many of them he appeared to enjoy +himself hugely. At the musicals and purely literary entertainments, +however, Miles Dawson always looked,</p> + +<p>as he was, extremely bored. Once Miss Henderson had seen him yawn at a +Shelley reading. He was, in short, of the earth earthy, or perhaps, to +be more accurate, of the horse horsey. Intellectual pleasures were +naught to him but fountains of ennui, and being a very honest, frank +sort of a person, he took no pains to conceal the fact, and it ruined +his chances with Miss Henderson, at whose feet he had more than once +laid the contents of the deposit-boxes—figuratively, of course—as well +as the use of his stables and himself. The fact that he looked like a +Greek god did not influence her in the least; she knew he was by nature +a far cry from anything Greek or godlike, and she would have none of +him.</p> + +<p>Had he had the mental qualities of Henry Webster, the famous scholar of +Cambridge, it might have been different, but he hadn't these any more +than Henry Webster had Dawson's Greek godliness of person.</p> + +<p>As for Webster, he too had laid bare a heart full of affection before +the cold gaze of Miss Flora Henderson, and with no more pleasing results +to himself than had attended the suit of his handsome rival, as he had +considered Dawson.</p> + +<p>"I think I can make you happy," he had said, modestly. "We have many +traits in common. We are both extremely fond of reading of the better +sort. You would prove of inestimable service to me in the advancement of +my ambition in letters, as well as in the educational world, and I think +you would find me by nature responsive to every wish you could have. I +am a lover of music, and so are you. We both delight in the study of +art, and there is in us both that inherent love of nature which would +make of this earth a very paradise for me were you to become my life's +companion."</p> + +<p>Then Miss Flora Henderson had looked upon his stern and extremely homely +face, and had unconsciously even to herself glanced rapidly at his +uncouth figure, and could not bring herself to answer yes. Here was the +intellectual man, but his physical shortcomings forbade the utterance of +the word which should make Henry Webster the happiest of men. Had he +written his proposal he would have stood a better chance, though I +doubt that in any event he could have succeeded. Then he could have +stood at least as an abstract mentality, but the intrusion of his +physical self destroyed all. She refused him, and he went back to his +books, oppressed by an overwhelming sense of loneliness, from which he +did not recover for one or two hours.</p> + +<p>So it went with all the others. No man of all those who sought Miss +Henderson's favor had the godlike grace of Miles Dawson, combined with +the strong intellectuality of Henry Webster, with the added virtues of +wealth and amiability, steadfastness of purpose, and all that. It seemed +sometimes to Miss Flora Henderson, as it had often seemed to Mr. +Augustus Richards, that the standard set was too high, and that an +all-wise Providence was no longer sending the perfect being of the ideal +into the world, if, indeed, He had ever done so.</p> + +<p>Both the man and the woman were yearning, they came finally to believe, +after the unattainable, but each was strong enough of character to do +with nothing less excellent.</p> +<br /> +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + + +<h3>III</h3> + +<h4>A GLANCE AT MISS FLORA HENDERSON HERSELF</h4> + +<p>But what sort of a woman was Miss Flora Henderson, it may be asked, that +she should demand so much in the man with whom she should share the +burdens of life? Surely one should be wellnigh perfect one's self to +require so much of another—and I really think Miss Flora Henderson was +so.</p> + +<p>In the first place, she was tall and stately—Junoesque some people +called her. She had an eye fit for all things. It was soft or hard, as +one wished it. It was melting or fixed, according to the mood one would +have her betray. She was never flippant, and while the small things of +life interested her to an extent, much more absorbed was she in the +great things which pertain to existence. Dance she could, and well, but +she danced not to the exclusion of all other things. With dancing people +she was a dancer full of the poetry of motion, and enjoying it openly +and innocently. With a man of learning, however, she was equally at +home as with the callow youth. With nature in her every mood was she in +sympathy. She was fond of poetry and of music; indeed, to sum up her +character in as few words as possible, she was everything that so +critical a dreamer of the ideal as Mr. Augustus Richards could have +wished for, nor was there one weak spot in the armor of her character at +which he could cavil.</p> + +<p>In short, Miss Flora Henderson, of Boston, was the ideal of whom Mr. +Augustus Richards, of New York, dreamed.</p> +<br /> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<h3>IV</h3> + +<h4>A BRIEF GLIMPSE OF MR. AUGUSTUS RICHARDS</h4> + +<p>And as Miss Flora Henderson represented in every way the ideal of Mr. +Augustus Richards, so did he represent hers. He had the physical beauty +of Miles Dawson, and was quite the equal of the latter in the matter of +wealth. So many horses he had not, but he owned a sufficient number of +them. He was not horse-mad, nor did he yawn over Shelley or despise +aesthetic pleasures. In truth, in the pursuit of aesthetic delights he +was as eager as Henry Webster. He was in all things the sort of man to +whom our heroine of Boston would have been willing to intrust her hand +and her heart.</p> +<br /> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<h3>V</h3> + +<h4>CONCLUSION</h4> + +<p>But they never met.</p> + +<p>And they lived happily ever after.</p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="MRS_UPTON'S_DEVICE"></a><h2>MRS. UPTON'S DEVICE</h2> + +<h2><i><small>A Tale of Match-Making</small></i></h2> +<br /> + +<h3>I</h3> + +<h4>THE RESOLVE</h4> + +<p class="poetry4">"For when two<br /> +Join in the same adventure, one perceives<br /> +Before the other how they ought to act."<br /> +<br /> +—BRYANT.<br /> + +<p>Mrs. Upton had made up her mind that it must be, and that was the +beginning of the end. The charming match-maker had not indulged her +passion for making others happy, willy-nilly, for some time—not, in +fact, since she had arranged the match between Marie Willoughby and Jack +Hearst, which, as the world knows, resulted first in a marriage, and +then, as the good lady had not foreseen, in a South Dakota divorce. This +unfortunate termination to her well-meant efforts in behalf of the +unhappy pair was a severe blow to Mrs. Upton. She had been for many +years the busiest of match-makers, and seldom had she failed to bring +about desirable results. In the homes of a large number of happy pairs +her name was blessed for all that she had done, and until this no +unhappy marriage had ever come from her efforts. One or two engagements +of her designing had failed to eventuate, owing to complications over +which she had no control, and with which she was in no way concerned; +but that was merely one of the risks of the business in which she was +engaged. The most expert artisan sometimes finds that he has made a +failure of some cherished bit of work, but he does not cease to pursue +his vocation because of that. So it was with Mrs. Upton, and when some +of her plans went askew, and two young persons whom she had designed for +each other chose to take two other young people into their hearts +instead, she accepted the situation with a merely negative feeling of +regret. But when she realized that it was she who had brought Marie +Willoughby and Jack Hearst together, and had, beyond all question, made +the match which resulted so unhappily, then was Mrs. Upton's regret and +sorrow of so positive a nature that she practically renounced her chief +occupation in life.</p> + +<p>"I'll never, never, never, so long as I live, have anything more to do +with bringing about marriages!" she cried, tearfully, to her husband, +when that worthy gentleman showed her a despatch in the evening paper to +the effect that Mr. and Mrs. Jack had invoked the Western courts to free +them from a contract which had grown irksome to both. "I shall not even +help the most despairing lover over a misunderstanding which may result +in two broken hearts. I'm through. The very idea of Marie Willoughby and +Johnny Hearst not being able to get along together is preposterous. Why, +they were made for each other."</p> + +<p>"I haven't a doubt of it," returned Upton, with whom it was a settled +principle of life always to agree with his better half. "But sometimes +there's a flaw in the workmanship, my dear, and while Marie may have +been made for Jack, and Jack for Marie, it is just possible that the +materials were not up to the specifications."</p> + +<p>"Well, it's a burning shame, anyhow," said Mrs. Upton, "and I'll never +make another match."</p> + +<p>"That's good," said Upton. "I wouldn't—or, if I did, I'd see to it that +it was a safety, instead of a fusee that burns fiercely for a minute and +then goes out altogether. Stick to vestas."</p> + +<p>"I don't know what you mean by vestas, but I'm through just the same," +retorted Mrs. Upton; and she really was—for five years.</p> + +<p>"Vestas are nice quiet matches that don't splurge and splutter. They +give satisfaction to everybody. They burn evenly, and are altogether the +swell thing in matches—and their heads don't fly off either," Upton +explained.</p> + +<p>"Well, I won't make even a vesta, you old goose," said Mrs. Upton, +smiling faintly.</p> + +<p>"You've made one, and it's a beauty," observed Upton, quietly, referring +of course to their own case.</p> + +<p>So, as I have said, Mrs. Upton forswore her match-making propensities +for a period of five years, and people noting the fact marvelled +greatly at her strength of character in keeping her hands out of matters +in which they had once done such notable service. And it did indeed +require much force of character in Mrs. Upton to hold herself aloof from +the matrimonial ventures of others; for, although she was now a woman +close upon forty, she had still the feelings of youth; she was fond of +the society of young people, and had been for a long time the +best-beloved chaperon in the community. It was hard for her to watch a +growing romance and not help it along as she had done of yore; and many +a time did her lips withhold the words that trembled upon them—words +which would have furthered the fortunes of a worthy suitor to a waiting +hand—but she had resolved, and there was the end of it.</p> + +<p>It is history, however, that the strongest characters will at times +falter and fall, and so it was with Mrs. Upton and her resolution +finally. There came a time when the pressure was too strong to be +resisted.</p> + +<p>"I can't help it, Henry," she said, as she thought it all over, and saw +wherein her duty lay. "We must bring Molly Meeker and Walter together. +He is just the sort of a man for her; and if there is one thing he needs +more than another to round out his character, it is a wife like Molly."</p> + +<p>"Remember your oath, my dear," replied Upton.</p> + +<p>"But this will be a vesta, Henry," smiled Mrs. Upton. "Walter and you +are very much alike, and you said the other night that Molly reminded +you of me—sometimes."</p> + +<p>"That's true," said Upton. "She does—that's what I like about her—but, +after all, she isn't you. A mill-pond might remind you at times of a +great and beautiful lake, but it wouldn't be the lake, you know. I grant +that Walter and I are alike as two peas, but I deny that Molly can hold +a candle to you."</p> + +<p>"Oh you!" snapped Mrs. Upton. "Haven't you got your eyes opened to my +faults yet?"</p> + +<p>"Yessum," said Upton. "They're great, and I couldn't get along without +'em, but I wouldn't stand them for five minutes if I'd married Molly +Meeker instead of you. You'd better keep out of this.</p> + +<p>Stick to your resolution. Let Molly choose her own husband, and Walter +his wife. You never can tell how things are going to turn out. Why, I +introduced Willie Timpkins to George Barker at the club one night last +winter, feeling that there were two fellows who were designed by +Providence for the old Damon and Pythias performance, and it wasn't ten +minutes before they were quarrelling like a couple of cats, and every +time they meet nowadays they have to be introduced all over again."</p> + +<p>"I don't wonder at that at all," said Mrs. Upton. "Willie Timpkins is +precisely the same kind of a person that George Barker is, and when they +meet each other and realize that they are exactly alike, and see how +sort of small and mean they really are, it destroys their self-love."</p> + +<p>"I never saw it in that light before," said Upton, reflectively, "but I +imagine you are right. There's lots in that. If a man really wrote down +on paper his candid opinion of himself, he'd have a good case for +slander against the publisher who printed it—I guess."</p> + +<p>"I should think you'd have known better than to bring those two +together, and under the circumstances I don't wonder they hate each +other," said Mrs. Upton.</p> + +<p>"Sympathy ought to count for something," pleaded Upton. "Don't you +think?"</p> + +<p>"Of course," replied Mrs. Upton; "but a man wants to sympathize with the +other fellow, not with himself. If you were a woman you'd understand +that a little better. But to return to Molly and Walter—don't you think +they really were made for each other?"</p> + +<p>"No, I don't," said Upton. "I don't believe that anybody ever was made +for anybody else. On that principle every baby that is born ought to be +labelled: <i>Fragile. Please forward to Soandso</i>. This +'made-for-each-other' business makes me tired. It's predestination all +over again, which is good enough for an express package, but doesn't go +where souls are involved. Suppose that through some circumstance over +which he has no control a Michigan man was made for a Russian girl—how +the deuce is she to get him?"</p> + +<p>"That's all nonsense, Henry," said Mrs. Upton, impatiently.</p> + +<p>"I don't know why," observed Upton. "I can quite understand how a +Michigan man might make a first-rate husband for a Russian girl. Your +idea involves the notion of affinity, and if I know anything about +affinities, they have to go chasing each other through the universe for +cycle after cycle, in the hope of some day meeting—and it's all beastly +nonsense. My affinity might be Delilah, and Samson's your beautiful +self; but I'll tell you, on my own responsibility, that if I had caught +Samson hanging about your father's house during my palmy days I'd have +thrashed the life out of him, whether his hair was short or long, and +don't you forget it, Mrs. Upton."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Upton laughed heartily. "I've no doubt you could have done it, my +dear Henry," said she. "I'd have helped you, anyhow. But affinities or +not, we are placed here for a certain purpose—"</p> + +<p>"I presume so," said Upton. "I haven't found out what it is, but I'm +satisfied."</p> + +<p>"Yes—and so am I. Now," continued Mrs. Upton, "I think that we all +ought to help each other along. Whether I am your affinity or not, or +whether you are mine—"</p> + +<p>"I <i>am</i> yours—for keeps, too," said Upton. "I shall be just as +attentive in heaven, where marriage is not recognized, as I am here, if +I hang for it."</p> + +<p>"Well—however that may be, we have this life to live, and we should go +about it in the best way possible. Now I believe that Walter will be +more of a man, will accomplish more in the end, if he marries Molly than +he will as a bachelor, or if he married—Jennie Perkins, for instance, +who is so much of a manly woman that she has no sympathy with either +sex."</p> + +<p>"Right!" said Upton.</p> + +<p>"You like Walter, don't you, and want him to succeed?"</p> + +<p>"I do."</p> + +<p>"You realize that an unmarried physician hasn't more than half a +chance?"</p> + +<p>"Unfortunately yes," said Upton. "Though I don't agree that a man can +cut your leg off more expertly or carry you through the measles more +successfully just because he has happened to get married. As a matter +of fact, when I have my leg cut off I want it to be done by a man who +hasn't been kept awake all night by the squalling of his lately arrived +son."</p> + +<p>"Nevertheless," said Mrs. Upton, "society decrees that a doctor needs a +wife to round him out. There's no disputing that fact—and it is +perfectly proper. Bachelors may know all about the science of medicine, +and make a fair showing in surgery, but it isn't until a man is married +that he becomes the wholly successful practitioner who inspires +confidence."</p> + +<p>"I suppose it's so," said Upton. "No doubt of it. A man who has suffered +always does do better—"</p> + +<p>"Henry!" ejaculated Mrs. Upton, severely. "Remember this: I didn't marry +you because I thought you were a cynic. Now Walter as a young physician +needs a wife—"</p> + +<p>"I suppose he's got to have somebody to confide professional secrets +to," said Upton.</p> + +<p>"That may be the reason for it," observed Mrs. Upton; "but whatever the +reason, it is a fact. He needs a wife, and I propose that he shall have +one; and it is very important that he should get the right one."</p> + +<p>"Are you going to propose to the girl in his behalf?" queried Henry.</p> + +<p>"No; but I think he's a man of sense, and I know Molly is. Now I propose +to bring them together, and to throw them at each other's heads in such +a way that they won't either of them guess that I am doing it—"</p> + +<p>"Now, my dear," interrupted Upton, "don't! Don't try any throwing. You +know as well as I do that no woman can throw straight. If you throw +Molly Meeker at Walter's head—"</p> + +<p>"I may strike his heart. Precisely!" said Mrs. Upton, triumphantly. "And +that's all I want. Then we shall have a beautiful wedding," she added, +with enthusiasm. "We'll give a little dinner on the 18th—a nice +informal dinner. We'll invite the Jacksons and the Peltons and Molly and +Walter. They will meet, fall in love like sensible people, and there you +are."</p> + +<p>"I guess it's all right," said Upton, "though to fall in love sensibly +isn't possible, my dear. What people who get married ought to do is to +fall unreasonably, madly in love—"</p> + +<p>But Mrs. Upton did not listen. She was already at her escritoire, +writing the invitations for the little dinner.</p> +<br /> +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<h3>II</h3> + +<h4>A SUCCESSFUL CASE</h4> + +<p class="poetry4">"The pleasantest angling is to see the fish<br /> +...greedily devour the treacherous bait."<br /> +—<i>Much Ado about Nothing</i>.<br /></p> + +<p>The invitations to Mrs. Upton's little dinner were speedily despatched +by the strategic maker of matches, and, to her great delight, were one +and all accepted with commendable promptness, as dinner invitations are +apt to be. The night came, and with it came also the unsuspecting young +doctor and the equally unsuspicious Miss Meeker. Everything was +charming. The Jacksons were pleased with the Peltons, and the Peltons +were pleased with the Jacksons, and, best of all, Walter was pleased +with Miss Meeker, while she was not wholly oblivious to his existence. +She even quoted something he happened to say at the table, after the +ladies had retired, leaving the men to their cigars, and had added that +"<i>that</i> was the way she liked to hear a man talk"—all of which was very +encouraging to the well-disposed spider who was weaving the web for +these two particular flies. As for Bliss—Walter Bliss, M.D.—he was +very much impressed; so much so, indeed, that as the men left their +cigars to return to the ladies he managed to whisper into Upton's ear,</p> + +<p>"Rather bright girl that, Henry."</p> + +<p>"Very," said Upton. "Sensible, too. One of those bachelor girls who've +got too much sense to think much about men. Pity, rather, in a way, too. +She'd make a good wife, but, Lord save us! it would require an Alexander +or a Napoleon to make love to her."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know," said Bliss, confidently. "If the right man came +along—"</p> + +<p>"Of course; but there aren't many right men," said Upton. "I've no doubt +there's somebody equal to the occasion somewhere, but with the +population of the world at the present figures there's a billion chances +to one she'll never meet him. What do you think of the financial +situation, Walter? Pretty bad, eh?"</p> + +<p>Thus did the astute Mr. Upton play the cards dealt out to him by his +fairer half in this little game of hearts of her devising, and it is a +certain fact that he played them well, for the interjection of a more or +less political phase into their discussion rather whetted than otherwise +the desire of Dr. Bliss to talk about Miss Meeker.</p> + +<p>"Oh, hang the financial situation! Where does she live, Henry?" was +Bliss's answer, from which Upton deduced that all was going well.</p> + +<p>That his deductions were correct was speedily shown, for it was not many +days before Mrs. Upton, with a radiant face, handed Upton a note from +Walter asking her if she would not act as chaperon for a little sail on +the Sound upon his sloop. He thought a small party of four, consisting +of herself and Henry, Miss Meeker and himself, could have a jolly +afternoon and evening of it, dining on board in true picnic fashion, and +returning to earth in the moonlight.</p> + +<p>"How do you like that, my lord?" she inquired, her eyes beaming with +delight.</p> + +<p>"Dreadful!" said Henry. "Got to the moonlight stage already—poor +Bliss!"</p> + +<p>"Poor Bliss indeed," retorted Mrs. Upton. "Blissful Bliss, you ought to +call him. Shall we go?"</p> + +<p>"Shall we go?" echoed Upton. "If I fell off the middle of Brooklyn +Bridge, would I land in the water?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," laughed Mrs. Upton. "You might drop into the smoke-stack +of a ferry-boat."</p> + +<p>"Of course we'll go," said Upton. "I'd go yachting with my worst enemy."</p> + +<p>"Very well. I'll accept," said Mrs. Upton, and she did. The sail was a +great success, and everything went exactly as the skilful match-maker +had wished. Bliss looked well in his yachting suit. The appointments of +the yacht were perfect. The afternoon was fine, the supper entrancing, +and the moonlight irresistible. Miss Meeker was duly impressed, and as +for the doctor, as Upton put it, he was "going down for the third time."</p> + +<p>"If you aren't serious in this match, my dear, throw him a rope," he +pleaded, in his friend's behalf.</p> + +<p>"He wouldn't avail himself of it if I did," said Mrs. Upton. "He wants +to drown—and I fancy Molly wants him to, too, because I can't get her +to mention his name any more."</p> + +<p>"Is that a sign?" asked Upton.</p> + +<p>"Indeed yes; if she talked about him all the time I should be afraid she +wasn't quite as deeply in love as I want her to be. She's only a woman, +you know, Henry. If she were a man, it would be different."</p> + +<p>The indications were verified by the results. August came, and Mrs. +Upton invited Miss Meeker to spend the month at the Uptons' summer +cottage at Skirton, and Bliss was asked up for "a day or two" while she +was there.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it a little dangerous, my dear?" Upton asked, when his wife asked +him to extend the hospitality of the cottage to Bliss. "I should think +twice before asking Walter to come."</p> + +<p>"How absurd you are!" retorted the match-maker. "What earthly objection +can there be?"</p> + +<p>"No objection at all," returned Upton, "but it may destroy all your good +work. It will be a terrible test for Walter, I am afraid—breakfast, for +instance, is a fearful ordeal for most men. They are so apt to be at +their very worst at breakfast, and it might happen that Walter could not +stand the strain upon him through a series of them. Then Molly may not +look well in the mornings. How is that? Is she like you—always at her +best?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Upton replied with a smile. It was evident that she did not +consider the danger very great.</p> + +<p>"They might as well get used to seeing each other at breakfast," she +said. "If they find they don't admire each other at that time, it is +just as well they should know it in advance."</p> + +<p>Hence it was, as I have said, that Bliss was invited to Skirton for a +day or two. And the day or two, in the most natural way in the world, +lengthened out into a week or two. There were walks and talks; there +were drives and long horseback rides along shaded mountain roads, and +when it rained there were mornings in the music-room together. Bliss was +good-natured at breakfast, and Molly developed a capacity for appearing +to advantage at that trying meal that aroused Upton's highest regard; +and finally—well, finally Miss Molly Meeker whispered something into +Mrs. Upton's ear, at which the latter was so overjoyed that she nearly +hugged her young friend to death.</p> + +<p>"Here, my dear, look out," remonstrated Upton, who happened to be +present. "Don't take it all. Perhaps she wants to live long enough to +whisper something to me."</p> + +<p>"I do," said Molly, and then she announced her engagement to Walter +Bliss; and she did it so sweetly that Upton had all he could do to keep +from manifesting his approval after the fashion adopted by his wife.</p> + +<p>"I wish I was a literary man," said Upton to his wife the next day, when +they were talking over the situation. "If I knew how to write I'd make a +fortune, I believe, just following up the little romances that you +plan."</p> + +<p>"Oh, nonsense, Henry," replied Mrs. Upton. "I don't plan any romances—I +select certain people for each other and bring them together, that is +all."</p> + +<p>"And push 'em along—prod 'em slightly when they don't seem to get +started, eh?" insinuated Upton.</p> + +<p>"Well, yes—sometimes."</p> + +<p>"And what else does a novelist do? He picks out two people, brings them +together, and pushes them along through as many chapters as he needs for +his book," said Henry. "That's all. Now if I could follow your couples +I'd have a tremendous advantage in basing my studies on living models +instead of having to imagine my realism. I repeat I wish I could write. +This little romance of Mollie and Walter that has just ended—"</p> + +<p>"Just what?" asked Mrs. Upton.</p> + +<p>"Just ended," repeated Upton. "What's the matter with that?"</p> + +<p>"You mean just begun," said Mrs. Upton, with a sigh. "The hardest work a +match-maker has is in conducting the campaign after the nominations are +made. When two people love each other madly, they are apt to do a great +deal of quarrelling over absolutely nothing, and I'm not at all sure +that an engagement means marriage until the ceremony has taken place."</p> + +<p>"And even then," suggested Henry, "there are the divorce courts, eh?"</p> + +<p>"We won't refer to them," said Mrs.</p> + +<p>Upton, severely; "they are relics of barbarism. But as for the ending +of my romance, my real work now begins. I must watch those two young +people carefully and see that their little quarrels are smoothed over, +their irritations allayed, and that every possible difference between +them is adjusted."</p> + +<p>"But you and I didn't quarrel when we were engaged," persisted Upton.</p> + +<p>"No, we didn't, Henry," replied Mrs. Upton. "But that was only because +it takes two to make a quarrel, and I loved you so much that I was +really blind to all your possibilities as an irritant."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said Henry, reflectively.</p> +<br /> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<h3>III</h3> + +<h4>A SET-BACK</h4> + +<p class="poetry4">"All is confounded, all!<br /> +Reproach and everlasting shame<br /> +Sits mocking in our plumes."<br /> +—<i>Henry V</i>.</p> + +<p>Time demonstrated with great effectiveness the unhappy fact that Mrs. +Upton knew whereof she spoke when she likened an engagement to a +political campaign, in that the real battle begins after the nominations +are made. Walter Bliss had decided views as to life, and Miss Meeker was +hardly less settled in her convictions. Long before she had met Bliss, +in default of a real she had builded up in her mind an ideal man, which +at first, second, and even third sight Walter had seemed to her to +represent. But unfortunately there is a fourth sight, and the lover or +the <i>fiancée</i> who can get beyond this is safe—comparatively safe, that +is, for everything in this world has its merits or its demerits, +comparatively speaking, and the comparison is more often than not made +from the point of view of what ought to be rather than of what really +is. Mrs. Upton was a realist—that is, she thought she was; and so was +Miss Meeker. Everybody looks at life from his or her own point of view, +and there must always be, consequently, two points of view, for there +will always be a male way and a female way of looking at things. Walter +was in love with his profession. Molly was in love with him as an +abstract thing. She knew nothing of him as a Washington fighting +measles; she was not aware whether he could combat tonsillitis as +successfully as Napoleon fought the Austrians or not, and it may be +added that she didn't care. He was merely a man in her estimation; a +thing in the abstract, and a most charming thing on the whole. He, on +the other hand, looked upon her not as a woman, but as a soul, and a +purified soul at that: an angel, indeed, without the incumbrance of +wings, was she, and with a rather more comprehensive knowledge of dress +than is attributed to most of angels. But two people cannot go on +forming an ideal of each other continuously without at some time +reaching a point of divergence, and Walter and Molly reached that point +within ten weeks. It happened that while calling upon her one evening +Walter received a professional summons which he admitted was all +nonsense—why should people call in doctors when it is "all nonsense"?</p> + +<p>The call came while Walter was turning over the leaves at the piano as +Molly played.</p> + +<p>"What is this?" he said, as he opened the note that was addressed to him. "Humph! Mrs. Hubbard's boy is +sick—"</p> + +<p>"Must you go?" Molly asked.</p> + +<p>"I suppose so," said Walter. "I saw him this afternoon, and there is not +the slightest thing the matter with him, but I must go."</p> + +<p>"Why?" asked Molly. "Are you the kind of doctor they call in when +there's nothing the matter?"</p> + +<p>She did not mean to be sarcastic, but she seemed to be, and Walter, of +course, like a properly sensitive soul, was hurt.</p> + +<p>"I must go," he said, positively, ignoring the thrust.</p> + +<p>"But you say there is nothing the matter with the boy," suggested Molly.</p> + +<p>"I'm going just the same," said Walter, and he went.</p> + +<p>Molly played on at the piano until she heard the front door slam, and +then she rose up and went to the window. Walter had gone and was out of +sight. Then, sad to say, she became philosophical. It doesn't really pay +for girls to become philosophical, but Molly did not know that, and she +began a course of reasoning.</p> + +<p>"He knows he isn't needed, but he goes," she said to herself, as she +gazed dejectedly out of the window at the gaslamps on the other side of +the street. "And he will of course charge the Hubbards for his services, +admitting, however, that his services are nothing. That is not +conscientious—it is not professional. He is not practising for the love +of his profession, but for the love of money. I am disappointed in +him—and we were having such a pleasant time, too!"</p> + +<p>So she ran on as she sat there in the window-seat looking out upon the +dreary street; and you may be sure that the commingling of her ideals +and her disappointments and her sense of loneliness did not help +Walter's case in the least, and that when they met the next time her +manner towards him was what some persons term "sniffy," which was a +manner Walter could not and would not abide. Hence a marked coolness +arose between the two, which by degrees became so intensified that at +about the time when Mrs. Upton was expected to be called in to assist at +a wedding, she was stunned by the information that "all was over between +them."</p> + +<p>"Just think of that, Henry," the good match-maker cried, wrathfully. +"All is over between them, and Molly pretends she is glad of it."</p> + +<p>"Made for each other too!" ejaculated Upton, with a mock air of sorrow. +"What was the matter?"</p> + +<p>"I can't make out exactly," observed Mrs. Upton. "Molly told me all +about it, and it struck me as a merely silly lovers' quarrel, but she +won't hear of a reconciliation. She says she finds she was mistaken in +him. I wish you'd find out Walter's version of it."</p> + +<p>"I respectfully refuse, my dear Mrs. Upton," returned Henry. "I'm not a +partner in your enterprise, and if you get a misfit couple returned on +your hands it is your lookout, not mine. Pity, isn't it, that you can't +manage matters like a tailor? Suit of clothes is made for me, I try it +on, don't like it, send it back and have it changed to fit. If you could +make a few alterations now in Molly—"</p> + +<p>"Henry, you are flippant," asserted Mrs. Upton. "There's nothing the +matter with Molly—not the least little thing; and Walter ought to be +ashamed of himself to give her up, and I'm going to see that he +doesn't. I believe a law ought to be made, anyhow, requiring engaged +persons who want to break off to go into court and show cause why they +shouldn't be enjoined from so doing."</p> + +<p>"A sort of antenuptial divorce law, eh?" suggested Upton. "That's not a +bad idea; you ought to write to the papers and suggest it—using your +maiden name, of course, not mine."</p> + +<p>"If you would only find out from Walter what he's mad at, and tell him +he's an idiot and a heartless thing, maybe we could smooth it out, +because I know that 'way down in her soul Molly loves him."</p> + +<p>"Very well, I'll do it," said Upton, good-naturedly; "but mind you it's +only to oblige you, and if Bliss throws me out of the club window for +meddling in his affairs, it will be your fault."</p> + +<p>The doctor did not quite throw Upton out of the window that afternoon +when the subject came up, but he did the next thing to it. He turned +upon him, and with much gravity remarked: "Upton, I'll talk politics, +finance, medicine, surgery, literature, or neck-ties with you, but under +no circumstances will I talk about woman with anybody. I prefer a topic +concerning which it is possible occasionally to make an intelligent +surmise at least. Woman is as comprehensible to a finite mind as chaos. +Who's your tailor?"</p> + +<p>"You ought to have seen us when he said that," observed Upton to his +wife, as he told her about the interview at dinner that evening. "He was +as solemn as an Alp, and apparently as immovable as the Sphinx; and as +for me, I simply withered on my stalk and crumbled away into dust. +Wherefore, my love, I am through; and hereafter if you are going to make +matches for my friends and need outside help, get a hired man to help +you. I'm did. If I were you I'd let 'em go their own way, and if their +lives are spoiled, why, your conscience is clear either way."</p> + +<p>But Mrs. Upton had no sympathy with any such view as that. She had been +so near to victory that she was not going to surrender now without one +more charge. She tried a little sounding of Bliss herself, and finally +asked him point-blank if he would take dinner with herself and Upton and +Molly and make it up, and he declined absolutely; and it was just as +well, for when Molly heard of it she asserted that she had no doubt it +would have been a pleasant dinner, but that nothing could have induced +her to go. She never wished to see Dr. Bliss again—not even +professionally. Mrs. Upton was gradually becoming utterly discouraged. +The only hopeful feature of the situation was that there were no +"alternates" involved. Bliss was done forever with woman; Miss Meeker +had never cared for any man but Walter. Time passed, and the lovers were +adamant in their determination never to see each other again. Repeated +efforts to bring them together failed, until Mrs. Upton was in despair. +It is always darkest, however, just before dawn, and it finally happened +that just as hopelessness was beginning to take hold of Mrs. Upton's +heart her great device came to her.</p> +<br /> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<h3>IV</h3> + +<h4>THE DEVICE</h4> + +<p class="poetry4">"Music arose with its voluptuous swell,<br /> +And all went merry as a marriage bell."<br /> +—<i>Childe Harold</i>.</p> + +<p>"Henry," said Mrs. Upton, one cold January morning, a great light of +possibilities dawning upon her troubled soul, "don't you want to take me +to the opera next Saturday? Calvé is to sing in 'Cavalleria,' and I am +very anxious to hear her again."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry, but I can't," Upton answered. "I have an engagement with +Bliss at the club on Saturday. We're going to take lunch and finish up +our billiard tournament. I've got a lead of forty points."</p> + +<p>"Oh! Well, then, get me two seats, and I'll take Molly," said the astute +match-maker. "And never mind about their being aisle seats. I prefer +them in the middle of the row, so that everybody won't be climbing over +us when they go out and in."</p> + +<p>"All right; I will," said Henry, and the seats were duly procured.</p> + +<p>Saturday came, and Upton went to the club, according to his appointment +with Walter; but Bliss was not there, nor had he sent any message of +explanation. Upton waited until three o'clock, and still the doctor came +not; and finally he left the club and sauntered up the Avenue to his +house, calling down the while imprecations upon the absent Walter.</p> + +<p>"Hang these doctors!" he said, viciously. "They seem to think +professional engagements are the only ones worth keeping. Off in his +game, I fancy. That's the milk in the cocoanut."</p> + +<p>Five minutes later he entered his library, and was astonished to see +Mrs. Upton there reading.</p> + +<p>"Why, hullo! You here?" he said. "I thought you were at the opera."</p> + +<p>"No, I didn't go," Mrs. Upton replied, with a smile.</p> + +<p>"There seems to be something in the air that prevents people from +keeping their engagements to-day. Bliss didn't turn up," said Henry. +"What did you do with the tickets?"</p> + +<p>"I sent Molly hers by messenger, and told her I'd join her at the +opera-house," said Mrs. Upton, her face beaming. "Did you say Walter +didn't go to the club?" she added, anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Yes. He's a great fellow, he is! Got no more idea about sticking to an +engagement than a cat," said Upton. "Afraid of my forty points, I +imagine."</p> + +<p>"Possibly; but maybe this will account for it," said Mrs. Upton, with a +sigh of relief, which hardly seemed necessary under the circumstances, +handing her husband a note.</p> + +<p>"What's this?" asked Upton, scanning the address upon the envelope.</p> + +<p>"A note—from Walter," Mrs. Upton replied. "Read it."</p> + +<p>And Upton read as follows:</p> + +<p class="right-letter">"SATURDAY MORNING, <i>January</i> —, 189-.</p> + +<p class="letter">"MY DEAR MRS. UPTON,—<br />I am sorry to hear +that Henry is called away, but there are compensations. +If I cannot take luncheon with him, +it will give me the greatest pleasure to listen to +Calvé in your company. I may be a trifle late, +but I shall most certainly avail myself of your +kind thought of me.</p> + + +<p class="right-letter">"Yours faithfully,</p> +<p class="right-letter">"WALTER BLISS."</p> + +<p>"What the deuce is this?" asked Upton. "I called away? Who said I was +called away?"</p> + +<p>"I did," said Mrs. Upton, pursing her lips to keep from indulging in a +smile. "As soon as you left this morning I wrote Walter a note, telling +him that you had been hurriedly called to Philadelphia on business, and +that you'd asked me to let him know, not having time to do it yourself. +And I closed by saying that we had two seats for 'Cavalleria,' and that, +as my expected guest had disappointed me, I hoped he might come in if he +felt like it during the afternoon and hear Calvé. That's his answer. I +enclosed him the ticket."</p> + +<p>"So that—" said Upton, beginning to comprehend.</p> + +<p>"So that Molly and Walter are at the opera together. Hemmed in on both +sides, so that they can't escape, with the Intermezzo before them!" said +Mrs. Upton, with an air of triumph which was beautiful to look upon.</p> + +<p>"Well, you are a genius!" cried Upton, finding his wife's enthusiasm +contagious. "I'm almost afraid of you!"</p> + +<p>"And you don't think I did wrong to fib?" asked Mrs. Upton.</p> + +<a name="IMG_DURING_THE_INTERMEZZO"></a><img src="002.png" align="left" alt="DURING THE INTERMEZZO."> + +<p>"Oh, as for that," said Upton, "all geniuses lie! An abnormal +development in one direction always indicates an abnormal lack of +development in another. Your bump of ingenuity has for the moment +absorbed your bump of veracity; but I say, my dear, I wonder if they'll +speak?"</p> + +<p>"Speak?" echoed Mrs. Upton. "Speak? Why, of course they will! Everybody +talks at the opera," she added, joyously.</p> + +<p>An hour later the door-bell rang, and the maid announced Miss Meeker and +Dr. Bliss. They entered radiant, and not in the least embarrassed.</p> + +<p>"Why, how do you do?" said Upton, as calmly as though nothing had +happened. "Didn't see you at the club," he added, with a sly wink at his +wife.</p> + +<p>"Thought you were out of town," said Bliss; and then he turned and +glanced inquiringly at the lovely deceiver. But Mrs. Upton said nothing. +She was otherwise engaged; for Molly, upon entering the room, had walked +directly to her side, and throwing her arms about her neck, kissed her +several times most affectionately.</p> + +<p>"You dear old thing!" she whispered.</p> + +<p>"Mrs.—Upton—I'm very much obliged to you for a very pleasant +afternoon," stammered Bliss, recovering from his surprise, the true +inwardness of the situation dawning upon him, "as well as for—a good +many pleasant afternoons to come. I--- ah—I didn't see—ah—Molly until +I got seated."</p> + +<p>"No," said Molly; "and if he could have gotten away without disturbing a +lot of people, I think he'd have gone when he realized where he was. And +he wouldn't speak until the Intermezzo was half through."</p> + +<p>"Well, I tried hard not to even then," said Walter; "but somehow or +other, when the Intermezzo got going, I couldn't help it, and—well, +it's to be next month."</p> + +<p>And so it was. The wedding took place six weeks later; and all through +the service the organist played the Intermezzo in subdued tones, which +some people thought rather peculiar—but then they were not aware of all +the circumstances.</p> +<br /> + +<h2>THE END</h2> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Booming of Acre Hill, by John Kendrick Bangs + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BOOMING OF ACRE HILL *** + +***** This file should be named 11309-h.htm or 11309-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/1/3/0/11309/ + +Produced by Audrey Longhurst, Michael Ciesielski and PG Distributed +Proofreaders + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Booming of Acre Hill + And Other Reminiscences of Urban and Suburban Life + +Author: John Kendrick Bangs + +Release Date: February 26, 2004 [EBook #11309] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BOOMING OF ACRE HILL *** + + + + +Produced by Audrey Longhurst, Michael Ciesielski and PG Distributed +Proofreaders + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<h1>THE BOOMING OF ACRE HILL</h1> + +<h2><i>and Other Reminiscences of +Urban and Suburban Life</i></h2> + +<a name="IMG_ILL_NEVER_NEVER"></a><p align="center"><img src="001.png" alt=""I'LL NEVER, NEVER, NEVER, SO LONG AS I LIVE""></p> + +<h1>The Booming of +Acre Hill</h1> + +<h3>By</h3> + +<h2>John Kendrick Bangs</h2> + +<p class="tpv">Illustrated By C. Dana Gibson<br /> + +Published in New York and London, 1902.</p> + +<br /> + +<p class="tpv">TO<br /> + +WILLIAM LIVERMORE KINGMAN,<br /> + +WITH AFFECTIONATE REGARDS</p> + +<p>These stories by Mr. Bangs have appeared +from time to time in <i>The Ladies Home Journal, +The Woman's Home Companion</i>, and the various +publications of Messrs. HARPER & BROTHERS.</p> + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<a href="#THE_BOOMING_OF_ACRE_HILL"><b>THE BOOMING OF ACRE HILL</b></a><br /> + <a href="#THE_STRANGE_MISADVENTURES_OF_AN_ORGAN"><b>THE STRANGE MISADVENTURES OF AN ORGAN</b></a><br /> + <a href="#THE_PLOT_THAT_FAILED"><b>THE PLOT THAT FAILED</b></a><br /> + <a href="#THE_BASE_INGRATITUDE_OF_BARKIS_MD"><b>THE BASE INGRATITUDE OF BARKIS, M.D.</b></a><br /> + <a href="#THE_UTILITARIAN_MR_CARRAWAY"><b>THE UTILITARIAN MR. CARRAWAY</b></a><br /> + <a href="#THE_BOOK_SALES_OF_MR_PETERS"><b>THE BOOK SALES OF MR. PETERS</b></a><br /> + <a href="#THE_VALOR_OF_BRINLEY"><b>THE VALOR OF BRINLEY</b></a><br /> + <a href="#WILKINS"><b>WILKINS</b></a><br /> + <a href="#THE_MAYOR'S_LAMPS"><b>THE MAYOR'S LAMPS</b></a><br /> + <a href="#THE_BALANCE_OF_POWER"><b>THE BALANCE OF POWER</b></a><br /> + <a href="#JARLEY'S_EXPERIMENT"><b>JARLEY'S EXPERIMENT</b></a><br /> + <a href="#JARLEY'S_THANKSGIVING"><b>JARLEY'S THANKSGIVING</b></a><br /> + <a href="#HARRY_AND_MAUDE_AND_ImdashALSO_JAMES"><b>HARRY AND MAUDE AND I—ALSO JAMES</b></a><br /> + <a href="#AN_AFFINITIVE_ROMANCE"><b>AN AFFINITIVE ROMANCE</b></a><br /> +<div style="margin-left: 2em;">I. MR. AUGUSTUS RICHARDS'S IDEAL +<br />II. MISS HENDERSON'S STANDARD +<br />III. A GLANCE AT MISS FLORA HENDERSON HERSELF +<br />IV. A BRIEF GLIMPSE OF MR. AUGUSTUS RICHARDS +<br />V. CONCLUSION<br /> </div> +<a href="#MRS_UPTON'S_DEVICE"><b>MRS. UPTON'S DEVICE</b></a><br /> +<div style="margin-left: 2em;">I. THE RESOLVE<br /> +II. A SUCCESSFUL CASE<br /> +III. A SET-BACK<br /> +IV. THE DEVICE <br /></div> + + +<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + +<a href="#IMG_ILL_NEVER_NEVER"><b>"I'LL NEVER, NEVER, NEVER, SO LONG AS I LIVE" +</b></a><br /> +<a href="#IMG_DURING_THE_INTERMEZZO"><b>DURING THE INTERMEZZO</b></a> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="THE_BOOMING_OF_ACRE_HILL"></a><h2>THE BOOMING OF ACRE HILL</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Acre Hill ten years ago was as void of houses as the primeval forest. +Indeed, in many ways it suggested the primeval forest. Then the Acre +Hill Land Improvement Company sprang up in a night, and before the +bewildered owners of its lovely solitudes and restful glades, who had +been paying taxes on their property for many years, quite grasped the +situation they found that they had sold out, and that their old-time +paradise was as surely lost to them as was Eden to Adam and Eve.</p> + +<p>To-day Acre Hill is gridironed with macadamized streets that are lined +with houses of an architecture of various degrees of badness. Where +birds once sang, and squirrels gambolled, and stray foxes lurked, the +morning hours are made musical by the voices of milkmen, and the +squirrels have given place to children and nurse-maids. Where sturdy +oaks stood like sentinels guarding the forest folk from intrusion from +the outside world now stand tall wooden poles with glaring white +electric lights streaming from their tops. And the soughing of the winds +in the trees has given place to the clang of the bounding trolley. All +this is the work of the Acre Hill Land Improvement Company.</p> + +<p>Yet if, as I have said, the Acre Hill Land Improvement Company sprang up +in a night, it passed many sleepless nights before it received the +rewards which come to him who destroys Nature. And when I speak of a +corporation passing sleepless nights I do so advisedly, for at the +beginning of its career the Acre Hill Land Improvement Company consisted +of one man—a mild-mannered man who had previously labored in similar +enterprises, and whose name was called blessed in a thousand +uncomfortable houses in uncomfortable suburbs elsewhere, that, like Acre +Hill, had once been garden spots, but had been "improved." Even a +professional improver of land finds sleep difficult to woo at the +beginning of such an enterprise. In the first instance, when one buys +land, giving a mortgage in full payment therefor, with the land as +security, one appears to have assumed a moderately heavy burden. Then, +when to this one adds the enormous expense of cutting streets through +the most beautiful of the sylvan glades, the building of sewers, and the +erection of sample houses, to say nothing of the strain upon the +intellect in the selection of names for the streets and lanes and +circles that spring into being, one cannot but wonder how the master +mind behind it all manages to survive.</p> + +<p>But the Acre Hill Land Improvement Company did survive, and Dumfries +Corners watched its progress with much interest. Regrets were expressed +when some historic knoll was levelled in order to provide a nice flat +space for a public square. Youngsters who had bagged many a partridge on +Acre Hill felt like weeping when one stretch of bush after another was +cut ruthlessly away in order that a pretentious-looking structure, the +new home of the Acre Hill Country Club, might be erected. Lovers sighed +when certain noble old oaks fraught with sentimental associations fell +before the unsentimental axes of the Improvement Company; and +numberless young Waltons muttered imprecations upon the corporation that +filled in with stone and ashes the dear old pond that once gave forth +fish in great abundance, and through earthen pipes diverted the running +brook, that hitherto had kept it full, into a brand-new sewer.</p> + +<p>These lovers of nature could not understand the great need of our +constantly growing population for uncomfortable houses in inconvenient +suburbs, and in their failure to comprehend they became cavilers. But +others—those who admire the genius which enables a man to make +unproductive land productive, who hail as benefactor one who supplants a +profitless oak of a thousand years' standing with a thriving +butcher-shop—these people understood what was being done for Dumfries +Corners, but wondered how the venture was to be made profitable. There +were already more vacant houses in Dumfries Corners than could be +rented, more butcher-shops than could be supported, more clubs than +could be run without a deficit. But the Acre Hill Land Improvement +Company went on, and within three years paradise had become earth, and +the mild-mannered and exceedingly amiable gentleman who had replaced the +homes of the birds with, some fifteen or twenty houses for small +families could look about him and see greater results than ever greeted +the eyes of Romulus in the days of the great Rome Land Improvement +Company.</p> + +<p>Most wonderful of all, he was still, solvent! But a city is not a city, +nor, in its own degree, a suburb a suburb, without inhabitants; and +while to a mind like that back of the Acre Hill Land Improvement Company +it is seemingly a moderately easy task to lay out a suburb in so far as +its exterior appointments are concerned, the rub comes in the getting of +citizens. A Standard Oil magnate can build a city if he is willing to +spend the money, but all the powers of heaven and earth combined cannot +manufacture offhand a citizenship. In an emergency of this nature most +land improvement companies would have issued pretty little pamphlets, +gotten up in exquisite taste, full of beautiful pictures and bubbling +over with enthusiastic text, all based upon possibilities rather than +upon realities.</p> + +<p>But the Acre Hill Land Improvement Company was sincere and honest. It +believed in advertising what it had; it believed in dilating somewhat on +the possibilities, but it was too honest to claim for itself virtues it +did not possess.</p> + +<p>So it tried different methods. The Acre Hill Country Club was the first +of these, and a good idea it was. It was successful from the start, +socially. Great numbers attended the entertainments and dances, although +these were rather poorly conducted. Still, the Country Club was a grand +success. It gave much and received nothing. Dumfries Corners, reluctant +to approve of anything, approved of it.</p> + +<p>But no lots were sold! The Acre Hill Land Improvement Company was +willing to make itself popular—very willing. Didn't mind giving +Dumfries Corners people free entertainment, but—lots didn't sell. What +is the use of paying the expenses of a club if lots don't sell? This was +a new problem for the company to consider. There were sixteen houses +ready for occupancy, and consuming interest at a terrible rate, but no +one came to look at them. Acre Hill was a charming spot, no doubt, but +for some unknown reason or other it failed to take hold of the popular +fancy, despite the attractions of the club.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the head of the institution had an idea. In the great +metropolis there was an impecunious and popular member of Uppertendom +whose name had been appearing in the society journals with great +frequency for years. He formerly had been prosperous, but now he was +down financially; yet society still received and liked him, for he had +many good points and was fundamentally what the world calls a good +fellow.</p> + +<p>"Why not send for Jocular Jimson Jones?" suggested the head and leading +spirit of the Improvement Company. "We can offer him one of our +cottages, and pay his debts if he has any, if he will live here and give +us the benefit of his social prestige."</p> + +<p>The suggestion was received with enthusiasm. Mr. Jones was summoned, +came and inspected the cottage, and declined. He really couldn't, you +know. Of course he was down, but not quite down to the level of a +cottage of that particular kind. He still had plenty of friends whom he +could visit and who would be charmed to entertain him in the style to +which he was accustomed. Why, therefore, should he do this thing, and +bring himself down to the level of the ordinary commuter? No, indeed. +Not he! The Directors saw the point, and next offered him—and this time +he accepted—the free use of the residence of one of the officers of the +company, a really handsome, pretentious structure, with a commanding +view, stable, green-houses, graceful lawns, and all other appurtenances +of a well-appointed country seat. In addition to the furnishing of the +house in proper taste, they put coal in the cellar and fly-screens in +the windows. They filled the residence with servants, and indorsed the +young person at the grocer's and butcher's. They bought him a surrey and +a depot wagon. They bought him horses and they stocked him well with +fine cigars. They paid his tailor's bills, and sundry other pressing +monetary affairs were funded. In fact, the Acre Hill Land Improvement +Company set Jocular Jimson Jones up and then gave him <i>carte blanche</i> to +entertain; and inasmuch as Jocular had a genius for entertaining, it is +hardly necessary to say that he availed himself of his opportunity.</p> + +<p>During that first summer at Acre Hill Mr. Jones had the best time of his +life. His days were what the vulgar term "all velvet." His new residence +was so superb that it restored his credit in the metropolis, and city +"swells," to whom he was under social obligation, went home, after +having been paid in kind, wondering if Jocular Jimson Jones had +unearthed somewhere a recently deceased rich uncle. He gave suppers of +most lavish sort. He had vaudeville shows at the club-house, with talent +made up of the most exclusive young men and women of the city. The +Amateur Thespians of the Borough of Manhattan gave a whole series of +performances at the club during the autumn, and by slow degrees the +society papers began to take notice. Acre Hill began to be known as "a +favorite resort of the 400." Nay, even the sacred 150 had penetrated to +its very core, wonderingly, however, for none knew how Jocular Jimson +Jones could do it. Still, they never declined an invitation. As a +natural result the market for Acre Hill lots grew active. The sixteen +cottages were sold, and the purchasers found themselves right in the +swim. It was the easiest thing in the world to get into society if you +only knew how. Jocular Jimson Jones was a fine, approachable, neighborly +person, and at the Country Club dances was quite as attentive to the +hitherto unknown Mrs. Scraggs as he was to Mrs. John Jacob Wintergreen, +the acknowledged leader of the 400. Mrs. Wintergreen, too, was not +unapproachable. She talked pleasantly during a musicale at the +club-house with Mr. Scraggs, and said she hoped some day to have the +pleasure of meeting Mrs. Scraggs; and when Scraggs, in response, said he +would go and get her she most amiably begged him not to leave her alone.</p> + +<p>Months went by, and where sixteen, empty houses had been, there were now +sixty all occupied, and lots were going like hot cakes. Tuxedo was in +the shade. Lenox was dying. Newport was dead. Society flocked to Acre +Hill and hobnobbed with Acre Hillians. Acre Hillians became somewhat +proud of themselves, and rather took to looking down upon Dumfries +Corners people. Dumfries Corners people were nice, and all that, but +not particularly interesting in the sense that "our set," with Jocular +Jimson Jones at the head of it, was interesting.</p> + +<p>Then came the County Ball. This Jocular engineered himself, and the +names of the lady patrons were selected from the oldest and the newest +on the list. Mrs. Wintergreen's name led, of course, but Mrs. Scraggs' +name was there too, sandwiched in between those of Mrs. Van +Cortlandtuyvel and Mrs. Gardenior, of Gardenior's Island, representing +two families which would carry social weight either in Boston or the +"other side of Market Street." There were four exalted names from the +city, one from Dumfries Corners, and seven from Acre Hill.</p> + +<p>Then more lots sold, and still more, and then, alas, came the end! +Jocular Jimson Jones was too successful.</p> + +<p>After two years of glory the social light of Acre Hill went out. The +Acre Hill Land Improvement Company retired from the business. All its +lots were sold, and, of course, there was no further need for the +services of Jocular Jimson Jones. His efforts were crowned with success. +His mission was accomplished, but he moved away—I think regretfully, +for, after all, he had found the Acre Hill people a most likable +lot—but it was inevitable that, there being no more fish to catch, the +anglers needed no bait, and Jocular Jimson had to go. Where he has gone +to there is no one who knows. He has disappeared wholly, even in the +metropolis, and, most unfortunately for Acre Hill, with Jocular Jimson +Jones have departed also all its social glories. None of the elect come +to its dances any more. The amateur thespians of the exclusive set no +longer play on the stage of its club-house, and it was only last week +that Mrs. John Jacob Wintergreen passed Mr. Scraggs on the street with a +cold glare of unrecognition.</p> + +<p>Possibly when Acre Hill reads this it will understand, possibly not.</p> + +<p>Dumfries Corners people understood it right along, but then they always +were a most suspicious lot, and fond of an amusing spectacle that cost +them nothing.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="THE_STRANGE_MISADVENTURES_OF_AN_ORGAN"></a><h2>THE STRANGE MISADVENTURES OF AN ORGAN</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Carson was a philosopher, and on the whole it was a great blessing that +he was so. No man needed to be possessor of a philosophical temperament +more than he, for, in addition to being a resident of Dumfries Corners, +Carson had other troubles which, to an excitable nature, would have made +life a prolonged period of misery. He was the sort of a man to whom +irritating misfortunes of the mosquito order have a way of coming. To +some of us it seemed as if a spiteful Nature took pleasure in pelting +Carson with petty annoyances, none of them large enough to excite +compassion, many of them of a sort to provoke a quiet smile. Of all the +dogs in the neighborhood it was always his dog that got run into the +pound, although it was equally true that Carson's dog was one of the few +that were properly licensed. If he bought a new horse something would +happen to it before a week had elapsed; and how his coachman once ripped +off the top of his depot wagon by driving it under a loose telephone +wire is still one of the stories of the vicinity in which he lives. +Anything out of the way in the shape of trouble seemed to choose the +Carson household for experimental purposes. He was the medium by which +new varieties of irritations were introduced to an ungrateful world, but +such was his nature that, given the companionship of Herbert Spencer and +a cigar, he could be absolutely counted on not to murmur.</p> + +<p>This disposition to accept the trials and tribulations which came upon +him without a passionate outburst was not by any means due to +amiability. Carson was of too strong a character to be continually +amiable. He merely exercised his philosophy in meeting trouble. He +boiled within, but presented a calm, unruffled front to the world, +simply because to do otherwise would involve an expenditure of nervous +force which he did not consider to be worth while.</p> + +<p>I can never forget the sense of admiring regard which I experienced +when in Genoa, while he and I were about to enter our banker's together, +he slipped upon a bit of banana peeling, bruising his knee and +destroying his trouser leg. I should have indulged in profane allusions +to the person who had thoughtlessly thrown the peeling upon the ground +if by some mischance the accident had happened to me. Carson, however, +did nothing of the sort, but treated me to a forcible abstract +consideration of the unthinking habits of the masses.</p> + +<p>The unknown individual who was responsible for the accident did not +enter into the question; no one was consigned to everlasting torture in +the deepest depths of purgatory; a calm, dispassionate presentation of +an abstraction was all that greeted my ears. The practice of +thoughtlessness was condemned as a thing entirely apart from the +practitioner, and as a tendency needing correction. Inwardly, I know he +swore; outwardly, he was as serene as though nothing untoward had +happened to him. It was then that I came to admire Carson. Before that +he had my affectionate regard in fullest measure, but now admiration +for his deeper qualities set in, and it has in no sense diminished as +time has passed. Once, and once only, have I known him to depart from +his philosophical demeanor, and that one departure was, I think, +justified by the situation, since it was the culminating point of a +series of aggravations, to fail to yield to which would have required a +more than human strength.</p> + +<p>The incident to which I refer was in connection with a fine organ, which +at large expense Carson had had built in his house, for, like all +philosophers, Carson has a great fondness for music, and is himself a +musician of no mean capacity. I have known him to sit down under a +parlor-lamp and read over the score of the "Meistersinger" just as +easily as you or I would peruse one of the lighter novels of the day. +This was one of his refuges. When his spirit was subjected to an extreme +tension he relieved his soul by flying to the composers; to use his own +very bad joke, when he was in need of composure he sought out the +"composures." As time progressed, however, and the petty annoyances grew +more: numerous, the merely intellectual pleasure of the writings of +Wagner and Handel and Mozart possibly failed to suffice, and an organ +was contracted for.</p> + +<p>"I enjoy reading the music," said he as we sat and talked over his plan, +"but sometimes—very often, in fact—I feel as if something ought to +shriek, and I'm going to have an organ of my own to do it for me."</p> + +<p>So, as I have said, the organ was contracted for, was built, and an +additional series of trials began. Upon a very important occasion the +organ declined to shriek, although every effort to persuade it to +perform the functions for which it was designed was made. Forty or fifty +very charming people were gathered together to be introduced to the +virtues of the new instrument—for Carson was not the kind of man to +keep to himself the good things which came into his life; he shared all +his blessings, while keeping his woes to himself; a well-known virtuoso +was retained to set forth the possibilities of the acquisition, and all +was going as "merry as a marriage bell" when suddenly there came a +wheeze, and the fingers of the well-known virtuoso were powerless to +elicit the harmonious shrieks which all had come to hear.</p> + +<p>It was a sad moment, but Carson was equal to the occasion.</p> + +<p>"Something's out of gear," he said, with a laugh due rather to his +philosophical nature than to mirth. "I'm afraid we'll have to finish on +the piano."</p> + +<br /> + +<p>And so we did, and a delightful evening we had of it, although many of +us went home wondering what on earth was the matter with the organ.</p> + +<p>A few days later I met Carson on the train and the mystery was solved.</p> + +<p>"The trouble was with the water-pipes," he explained. "They were put in +wrong, and the location of the house is such that every time Colonel +Hawkins, on the other side of the street, takes a bath, all the water +that flows down the hill is diverted into his tub."</p> + +<p>I tried not to laugh.</p> + +<p>"You'll have to enter into an agreement with the Colonel," I said. "Make +him promise not to bathe between certain hours."</p> + +<p>"That's a good idea," said Carson, smiling, "but after all I guess I'd +better change the pipes. Heaven forbid that in days like these I should +seek to let any personal gratification stand between another man and the +rare virtue of cleanliness."</p> + +<p>Several weeks went by, and men were busily employed in seeing that the +water supply needed for a proper running of the organ came direct from +the mains, instead of coming from a pipe of limited capacity used in +common by a half dozen or more residents of a neighboring side street.</p> + +<p>Somewhere about the end of the fourth week Carson invited me to dinner. +The organ was all right again, he said. The water supply was sufficient, +and if I cared to I might dine with him, and afterward spend an evening +sitting upon the organ bench while Carson himself manipulated the keys. +I naturally accepted the invitation, since, in addition to his other +delightful qualities, Carson is a past grand-master in the art of giving +dinners. He is a man with a taste, and a dinner good enough for him is a +thing to arouse the envy of the gods. Furthermore, as I have already +said, he is a musician of no mean order, and I know of no greater +pleasure than that of sitting by his side while he "potters through a +score," as he puts it. But there was a disappointment in store for us. I +called at the appointed hour and found the household more or less in +consternation. The cook had left, and a dinner of "cold things" +confronted us.</p> + +<p>"She couldn't stand the organ," explained Carson. "She said it got on to +her nerves—'rumblin' like.'"</p> + +<p>I gazed upon him in silent sympathy as we dined on cold roast beef, +stuffed olives, and ice cream.</p> + +<p>"This is serious," my host observed as we sat over our coffee and cigars +after the repast. "That woman was the only decent cook we've managed to +secure in seven years, and, by Jingo, the minute she gets on to my taste +the organ gets on to her nerves and she departs!"</p> + +<p>"One must eat," I observed.</p> + +<p>"That's just it," said Carson. "If it comes to a question of cook or +organ the organ will have to go. She was right about it, though. The +organ does rumble like the dickens. Some of the bass notes make the +house buzz like an ocean-steamer blowing off steam."</p> + +<p>It was a picturesque description, for I had noticed at times that when +the organ was being made to shriek fortissimo every bit of panelling in +the house seemed to rattle, and if a huge boiler of some sort suffering +from internal disturbance had been growling down in the cellar, the +result would have been quite similar.</p> + +<p>"It may work out all right in time," Carson said. "The thing is new yet, +and you can't expect it to be mellow all at once. What I'm afraid of, +apart from the inability of our cook to stand the racket, is that this +quivering will structurally weaken the house. What do you think?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know," I said. "Some of the wainscot panels rattle a bit, +but I imagine the house will stand it unless you go in too much for +Wagner. 'Tannhäuser' or 'Siegfried' might shake a few beams loose, but +lighter music, I think, can be indulged in with impunity."</p> + +<p>Time did not serve, as Carson had hoped, to mellow things. Indeed, the +succeeding weeks brought more trouble, and most of it came through the +organ. Some of the rattling panels, in spite of every effort to make +them fast, rattled the more. One night when the servants were alone in +the house, of its own volition the organ sent forth, to break the still +hours, a blood-curdling basso-profundo groan that suggested ghosts to +their superstitious minds. The housemaid came to regard the instrument +as something uncanny, and, even as the cook had done before her, shook +the dust of the house of Carson from her feet.</p> + +<p>Then a rat crawled into one of the pipes—Carson was unable to ascertain +which—and died there, with results that baffle description. I doubt if +Wagner himself could have expressed the situation in his most inspired +moments. Still Carson was philosophical.</p> + +<p>"I'll play a requiem to the rodent," he said, "that will make him turn +over in his grave, wherever that interesting spot may be."</p> + +<p>This he did, and the effect was superb, and no doubt the deceased did +turn over in his grave, for the improvisation called into play every +pipe on the whole instrument. However, I could see that this constant +pelting at the hands of an unkind fate through the medium of his most +cherished possession was having its effect upon Carson's hitherto +impregnable philosophy. When he spoke of the organ it was with a tone of +suppressed irritation which boded ill, and finally I was not surprised +to hear that he had offered to give the organ away.</p> + +<p>"After all," he said, "I made a mistake—flying so high. A man doesn't +want a church-organ in his house any more than he wants an elephant for +a lap-dog. I've offered it to the Unitarian Church."</p> + +<p>I felt a little hurt about this, for my own church was badly in need of +an instrument of that nature, but I said nothing, and considering the +amount of trouble the organ had given I got over my regret when I +realized that the Unitarian Church, and not mine, was shortly to have +it. In this, however, I was mistaken, for, after due deliberation, the +Unitarians decided that the organ was so very large that they'd have to +build a new church to go with it, and so declined it with thanks.</p> + +<p>Carson bit his lip and then offered it to us. "Don't seem to be able to +give it away," he said. "But I'll try again. You tell your vestry that +if they want it they can have it. I'll take it out and put it in the +barn up in the hay-loft. They can take it or leave it. It will cost them +cartage and the expense of putting it up."</p> + +<p>I thanked him, and joyously referred the matter to the vestry. At first +the members of that body were as pleased as I was, but after a few +minutes of jubilation the Chairman of the Finance Committee asked; "How +much will it cost to get this thing into shape?"</p> + +<p>Nobody knew, and finally the acceptance of the gift was referred to a +committee consisting of the Chairman of the Finance Committee, the +Chairman of the Music Committee, and myself, with full power to act.</p> + +<p>Inquiry showed that the cost of every item in connection with the +acceptance of the gift would amount to about a thousand dollars, and we +called upon Carson to complete the arrangement. He received us +cordially. We thanked him for his generosity, and were about to accept +the gift finally, when the Chairman of the Finance Committee said:</p> + +<p>"It is very good of you, Mr. Carson, to give us this organ. Heaven knows +we need it, but it will cost us about a thousand dollars to put it in."</p> + +<p>"So I judged," said Carson. "But when it is in you'll have a +thirty-five-hundred-dollar organ."</p> + +<p>"Splendid!" ejaculated the Chairman of the Music Committee.</p> + +<p>"The great difficulty that now confronts us," said the financier, "is as +to how we shall raise that money. The church is very poor."</p> + +<p>"I presume it is a good deal of a problem in these times," acquiesced +Carson. "Ah—"</p> + +<p>"It's a most baffling one," continued the financier. "I suppose, Mr. +Carson," he added, "that if we do put it in and pass around a +subscription paper, we can count on you for—say two hundred and fifty +dollars?"</p> + +<p>I stood aghast, for I saw the thread of Carson's philosophy snap.</p> + +<p>"What?" he said, with an effort to control himself.</p> + +<p>"I say I suppose we can count on you for a subscription of two hundred +and fifty dollars," repeated the financier.</p> + +<p>There was a pause that seemed an eternity in passing. Carson's face +worked convulsively, and the seeming complacency of the Chairman of the +Finance Committee gave place to nervous apprehension as he watched the +color surge through the cheeks and temples of our host.</p> + +<p>He thought Carson was about to have a stroke of apoplexy.</p> + +<p>I tried to think of something to say that might relieve the strain, but +it wouldn't come, and on the whole I rather enjoyed the spectacle of the +strong philosopher struggling with inclination, and I think the +philosopher might have conquered had not the Chairman of the Music +Committee broken in jocularly with:</p> + +<p>"Unless he chooses to make it five hundred dollars, eh?" And he grinned +maddeningly as he added: "If you'll give five hundred dollars we'll put +a brass plate on it and call it 'The Carson Memorial,' eh? Ha—ha—ha."</p> + +<p>Carson rose from his seat, walked into the hall and put on his hat.</p> + +<p>"Mr.—ah—Blank," said he to the financier, "would you and Mr. Hicks +mind walking down to the church with me?"</p> + +<p>"Say, he's going to put it in for us!" whispered Hicks, the Chairman of +the Music Committee, rubbing his hands gleefully.</p> + +<p>"Don't you want me, Carson?" I asked, rising.</p> + +<p>"No—you stay here!" he replied, shortly.</p> + +<p>And then the three went out, while I lit a cigar and pottered about +Carson's library. In half an hour he returned alone. His face was red +and his hand trembled slightly, but otherwise he had regained his +composure.</p> + +<p>"Well?" said I.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm going to put it up," said he.</p> + +<p>"Now—see here, Carson," I remonstrated. It seemed so like a rank +imposition on his generosity. To give the organ was enough, without +putting him to the expense of erecting it.</p> + +<p>"Don't interrupt," said he. "I'm not going to put it up in the +organ-loft, as you suppose, but in a place where it is likely to be +quite as much appreciated."</p> + +<p>"And that?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"In the hay-loft," he replied.</p> + +<p>"I don't blame you," said I, after a pause.</p> + +<p>"Neither do I," said he.</p> + +<p>"But why did you go down to the church?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Well," he explained, chuckling in spite of himself. "It was this way. +My grandfather, I have been told, used to be able to express himself +profanely without using a profane word, but I can't, and there were one +or two things I wanted to say to those men that wouldn't go well with +the decorations of my house, and which couldn't very well be said to a +guest in my house."</p> + +<p>"But, man alive, you didn't go to the church to do your swearing?"</p> + +<p>"No," he answered. "I did it on the way down; and," he added, +enthusiastically, "I did it exceeding well."</p> + +<p>"But why the church?" I persisted.</p> + +<p>"I thought after what I had to say to them," said he, "that they might +need a little religious consolation."</p> + +<p>And with that the subject was dropped.</p> + +<p>The organ, as Carson threatened, was transferred to the hay-loft and not +to the church, and as for the two Chairmen, they have several times +expressed themselves to the effect that Carson is a very irritable, not +to say profane, person.</p> + +<p>But I am still inclined to think him a philosopher. Under the +provocation any man of a less philosophical temperament might have +forgotten the laws of hospitality and cursed his offending guests in his +own house.</p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="THE_PLOT_THAT_FAILED"></a><h2>THE PLOT THAT FAILED</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Among the most promising residents of Dumfries Corners some ten years +ago was a certain Mr. Richard Partington Smithers, whose brilliant début +and equally sudden extinguishment in the field of literary endeavor have +given rise from time to time to no little discussion. He was young, very +young, indeed, at the time of his great literary success, and his +friends and neighbors prophesied great things for him. Yet nothing has +since come from his pen, and many have wondered why.</p> + +<p>Thanks to Mr. Smithers himself I am enabled to make public the story of +his sudden withdrawal from the ranks of the immortals when on the very +threshold of the temple of fame.</p> + +<p>Ten years have changed his point of view materially, and an experience +that once seemed tragedy to him is now in his eyes sufficiently tinged +with comedy, and his own position among us is so secure that he is +willing that the story of his failure should go forth.</p> + +<p>After trying many professions Smithers had become a man of schemes. He +devised plans that should enrich other people. Unfortunately, he sold +these to other people on a royalty basis, and so failed to grow rich +himself. If he had only sold his plans outright and collected on the +spot he might sometime have made something; but this he did not do, and +as a consequence he rarely made anything that was at all considerable, +and finally, to keep the wolf out of his dining-room, he was forced to +take up poetry, that being in his estimation the last as well as the +easiest resource of a well-ordered citizen.</p> + +<p>"I always threatened to take up poetry when all else had failed me," he +said to himself; "therefore I will now proceed to take up poetry. +Writing is purely manual labor, anyhow. Given a pad, a pencil, and +perseverance—three very important p's—and I can produce a fourth, a +poem, in short order. Sorry I didn't get to the end of my other ropes +before, now that I think of it."</p> + +<p>And so he sat down and took up poetry.</p> + +<p>He put it down again, however, very quickly.</p> + +<p>"Dear me!" he ejaculated. "Now, who'd have thought that? Here I have the +pencil and the pad and the perseverance, but I'm hanged if the poem is +quite as easy as I had supposed. These little conceits aren't so easy to +write, after all, even when they contain no ideas. Of course, it isn't +hard to say:</p> + +<p class="poetry">"'Sweet month of May, time of the violet wild,<br /> +The dandelion golden, and the mild<br /> +Ethereal sweetness of the blossoming trees,<br /> +The soft suggested calor of the breeze,<br /> +The ruby-breasted robin on the lawn,<br /> +The thrushes piping sweetly at the dawn,<br /> +The gently splashing waters by the weir,<br /> +The rose- and lilac-laden atmosphere'—</p> + +<p>"because, after all, it's nothing but a catalogue of the specialties of +May; but how the dickens to wind the thing up is what puzzles me. It's +too beautiful and truly poetic to be spoiled by a completing couplet +like:</p> + +<p class="poetry">"'And in the distant dam the croaking frog<br /> +Completes, O May, thy wondrous catalogue.'<br /></p> + +<p>"Nobody would take a thing like that—and pay for it; but what else can +be said? What do the violets wild, the dandelion, the ruby-breasted +robin, and the lilac-laden atmosphere and other features all do, I'd +like to know? What one of many verbs—oh, tut! Poetry very evidently is +not in my line, after all. I'll turn the vials of my vocabulary upon +essay-writing."</p> + +<p>Which Partington, as his friends called him, proceeded at once to do. He +applied himself closely to his desk for one whole morning, and wrote a +very long paper on "The Tendency of the Middle Ages Towards +Artificialism." Hardly one of the fifteen thousand words employed by him +in the construction of this paper held fewer than five syllables, and +one or two of them got up as high as ten, a fact which led Partington to +think that the editor of the <i>South American Quarterly Review</i> ought at +least to have the refusal of it. Apparently the editor of the <i>South +American Quarterly Review</i> was only too eager to have the refusal of it, +because he refused it, or so Partington observed in confidence to an +acquaintance, in less time than it could possibly have taken him to +read it. After that the essay became emulous of men like Stanley and Joe +Cook. It became a great traveller, but never failed to get back in +safety to its fond parent, Richard Partington Smithers, as our hero now +called himself. Finally, Partington did manage to realize something on +his essay—that is to say, indirectly—for after "The Tendency of the +Middle Ages Towards Artificialism" had gone the rounds of all the +reviews, monthlies, dailies, and weeklies in the country, its author +pigeon-holed it, and, stringing together the printed slips it had +brought back to him upon the various occasions of its return, he sent +these under the head of "How Editors Reject" to an evening journal in +Boston, whose readers could know nothing of the subject, for reasons +that are familiar to those who are acquainted with American letters. For +this he not only received the editor's thanks, but a six months' +subscription to the journal in question—the latter of which was useful, +since every night, excluding Sundays, its columns contained much +valuable information on such subjects as "How to Live on Fifty Dollars +a Year," "How to Knit an Afghan with One Needle," and "How Not to Become +a Novelist."</p> + +<p>Discouraged by the fate of his essay, Partington endeavored to get a +position on a railway somewhere as a conductor or brakeman; but failing +in this, he returned once more to his writing-table and wrote a novel. +This was the hardest work he had ever attempted. It took him quite a +week to think his story out and put it together; but when he had it done +he was glad he had stuck conscientiously to it, for the results really +seemed good to him. The book was charmingly written, he thought; so +charming, in fact, that he did not think it necessary to have a +type-written copy made of it before sending it out to the publishers. +Possibly this was a mistake. For a time Partington really believed it +was a mistake, because the publisher who saw it first returned it +without comment, prejudiced against it, no doubt, by the fact that it +came to him in the author's autograph. The second publisher was not so +rude. He said he would print it if Partington would advance one +thousand dollars to protect him against loss. The third publisher +evidently thought better of the book, for he only demanded protection to +the amount of seven hundred and fifty dollars, which, of course, +Partington could not pay; and in consequence <i>False but Fair</i> never saw +the light of day as a published book.</p> + +<p>"Is it rejected because of its length, its breadth, or what?" he had +asked the last publisher who had turned his back on the book.</p> + +<p>"Well, to tell you the truth, Mr. Smithers," the publisher had answered, +"all that our readers had to say about it—and the three who read it +agreed unanimously—was that the book is immature. You do not write like +an adult."</p> + +<p>"Thanks," said Partington, as he bowed himself out. "If that's the +truth, I'll try writing for juveniles. I'll sit right down to-night and +knock off a short story about 'Tommy and the Huckleberry-tree.' I don't +know whether huckleberries grow on trees or on huckles, but that will +make the tale all the more interesting. If they don't grow on trees +people will regard the story as romance. If they do grow on trees it +will be realism."</p> + +<p>True to his promise, that night Partington did write a story, and it +was, as he had said it should be, about "Tommy and the +Huckleberry-tree"; and so amusing did it appear to the editor of that +eminent juvenile periodical, <i>Nursery Days</i>, because of what he supposed +was the author's studied ignorance on the subject of huckleberries, that +it was accepted instanter, and the name of Richard Partington Smithers +shortly appeared in all the glory of type.</p> + +<p>Partington walked on air for at least a week after his effusion appeared +in print. He had visions night and day in which he seemed to see himself +the centre of the literary circle, and as he promenaded the avenue in +the afternoons he felt almost inclined to stop people who passed him by +to tell them who he was, and thus enable them to feast their eyes on one +whose name would shortly become a household word. All reasonable young +authors feel this way after their first draught at the soul-satisfying +spring of publicity. It is only that preposterous young person who was +born tired who fails to experience the sensations that were Partington's +that week; and at the end of the week, again like the reasonable young +author, he began to realize that immortality could not be gained by one +story treating of a fictitious Tommy and an imaginary huckleberry-tree, +and so he sat himself down at his desk once more, resolved this time to +clinch himself, as it were, in the public mind, with a tale of "Jimmie +and the Strawberry-mine." This story did not come as easily as the +other. In fact, Partington found it impossible to write more than a +third of the second tale that night. He couldn't bring his mind down to +it exactly, probably because his mind had been soaring so high since the +publication of his first effusion. For diversion as much as for anything +else during a lull in his flow of language he penned a short letter to +the editor of <i>Nursery Days</i>, and announced his intention to send the +story of "Jimmie and the Strawberry-mine" to him shortly—which was +unfortunate. If he had finished the story first and then sent it, it +might have been good enough to convince the editor against his judgment +that he ought to have it. A concrete story can often accomplish more +than an abstract idea. In this event it could not have accomplished +less, anyhow, for the editor promptly replied that he did not care for a +second story of that nature. There was no particular evidence in hand, +he said, that the children liked stories of that kind particularly, +adding that the first was only an experiment that it was not necessary +to repeat, and so on; polite, but unmistakably valedictory.</p> + +<p>"No evidence in hand that they are liked, eh? Well, how on earth, I +wonder," Partington said, angrily, to himself, "do they ever find +evidence that things are liked? Do they go about asking subscribers, or +what?"</p> + +<p>And then he picked up the issue of <i>Nursery Days</i> that had started him +along on his way to immortality, to console himself, at all events, with +the sight of his published story. In turning over the leaves of the +periodical his eye fell upon a page across the top of which ran a highly +ornate cut which indicated that there was printed the "Post-office +Department of <i>Nursery Days</i>," on perusing which Partington found a +number of communications and editorial responses Like these:</p> + +<p>[** Letters start here ... do something with them?]</p> + +<h4>I.</h4> + +<p class="letter">"DEAR POSTMASTER,—I have been taking <i>Nursery Days</i> since Christmas, so +I thought I would write you a letter. My birthday came a week ago +Thursday. I received a watch and chain, a glove-buttoner, a penknife, +and a set of ivory jackstraws. We have a cat at home whose name is +Rumpelstiltzken. He is very sleepy, and sleeps all day. He always picks +out the most comfortable chair, and then feels very much injured if we +turn him out. I like Bolivar Wiggins's story in your last paper very +much. Are you going to have any more stories by Bolivar Wiggins?</p> + +<p class="letter">"Your little friend, "HELEN CHECKERBY, aged seven.</p> + +<p class= "letter">"[We hope soon to have a new story from Mr. Wiggins, Helen. We wish we +could see your cat. He seems a very sensible cat.—EDITOR <i>Nursery +Days</i>.]"</p> +<br /> + +<h4>II.</h4> + +<p class="right-letter">"CANADA.</p> + +<p class="letter">I am a little girl nearly ten years old, and as I like your paper very +much I thought you would like a letter from me. Here is a cow's head I +drew. It is not very good, but I wanted to see if I would get a prize or +not. I have two little sisters; their names are Jennie and Fanny. I +hope I will see my letter in print. The stories I like best are Bolivar +Wiggins's story about 'Solemn Sophy' and his other one about 'Bertie's +Balloon.' Have you any more stories by him? I must close now, so +good-bye.</p> + +<p class="letter">"LILLIAN JAMES.</p> + +<p class="letter">"[Several, Lillian. Your cow is beautiful, and perhaps some day it will +appear in this column. Watch carefully, and maybe you will see +it.—EDITOR <i>Nursery Days</i>.]"</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said Partington, softly, as he read these effusions. "That is why +Bolivar Wiggins is permitted to cover so much space, eh? The children +like his stories well enough to write letters about him—or perhaps +Bolivar himself—ah!"</p> + +<p>The second "ah" uttered by Partington indicated that a thought had +flashed across his mind—a thought not particularly complimentary to +Bolivar Wiggins.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," he said, slowly, "Bolivar writes these letters to the editor +himself—and if Bolivar, why not I?"</p> + +<p>It was a tempting—alas, too tempting—opportunity to supply the editor +of <i>Nursery Days</i> with the needed evidence that stories of the "Tommy +and the Huckleberry-tree" order were the most popular literary novelty +of the day, and to it, in a moment of weakness, Partington succumbed. I +regret to have to record the fact that he passed the balance of the +night writing letters from fictitious "Sallies, aged six," "Warry and +Georgie, twins, aged twelve," and others dwelling in widely separated +sections of the country, to the number of at least two dozen, all of +which, being an expert penman, Partington wrote in a diversity of +juvenile hands that was worthy of a better cause. Here are two samples +of the letters he wrote that night:</p> + +<h4>I.</h4> + +<p class="right-letter">"NORWICH, CONNECTICUT.</p> + +<p class="letter"> +"I have taken the <i>Nursery Days</i> for one year, +and think it is a very nice paper. For pets I +have two cats, named Lady Tompkins and +Jimpsey. I have tried to solve the 'Caramel +Puzzle,' but think one answer is wrong. I go +to school, and there are forty-four scholars in +my room. My little kitty Jimpsey sleeps all day +long, and at night she is playful. She wakes +me up in the morning, and then waits till I get +up. Who is Mr. Smithers who wrote that beautiful +story about 'Tommy and the Huckleberry-tree'? +Everybody of all ages, from baby to my +grandmother, likes it and hopes you will print +more by that author.</p> + +<p class="letter">"SARAH WINKLETOP."</p> + + +<h4>II.</h4> + +<p class="right-letter">"YONKERS, N.Y.</p> + +<p class="letter">"Our Uncle Willie in New York sends us <i>Nursery +Days</i> every week. We like it immensely, +and every one tries to get the first reading of it. +"Tommy and the Huckleberry-tree" is a splendid +story. Papa bought six copies of <i>Nursery +Days</i> with that in it to send to my little cousins +in England.</p> + +<p class="letter">"JIMMIE CONWAY RHODES."</p> + +<p>Others were more laudatory of Partington's story, some less so, but each +demanded more of his work.</p> + +<p>These written, Partington made arrangements to have them posted from the +various towns wherein they were ostensibly written, and then, when they +had been posted, he chuckled slightly and sat down to await +developments.</p> + +<p>It took a trifle over one week for developments to develop, and then +they developed rapidly. Just eight days after his conception of this +magnificent scheme the postman whistled at Partington's door and left +this note:</p> + +<p class="right-letter">OFFICE OF NURSERY DAYS,</p> +<p class="right-letter">NEW YORK, <i>March</i> 16, 1889.</p> + +<p class="letter">"<i>Richard Partington Smithers, Esq</i>.:</p> + +<p class="letter">"DEAR SIR,—Can you call upon me some afternoon this week? Yours truly,</p> + +<p class="right-letter">THOMAS JACKSON TORPYHUE,</p> +<p class="right-letter">"Editor <i>Nursery Days</i>."</p> + +<p>"The bait is good, and I'll land the fish at once," said Partington, +his face wreathing with smiles. "I'll call upon Mr. Thomas Jackson +Torpyhue."</p> + +<p>And call he did. Two hours later he entered the sanctum of the editor of +<i>Nursery Days</i>.</p> + +<p>"Good-afternoon," he said, as he sat down at the editor's side.</p> + +<p>"Good-afternoon, Mr. Smithers," said Mr. Torpyhue. "I'm very glad to see +you."</p> + +<p>"I thought you'd be," began Partington, forgetting himself for a moment +in his triumph. "If that wasn't evidence enough that I—ah--- +oh—er—ah! Ahem! Why, certainly," he continued, suddenly recalling the +fact that as yet he could properly have no knowledge of the evidence in +question.</p> + +<p>The editor threw his head back and laughed, and Partington forced +himself to join him, nervously withal.</p> + +<p>"You have heard of the evidence have you?" asked Mr. Torpyhue.</p> + +<p>Partington gasped faintly, and said he thought not.</p> + +<p>"Well, it's very strange, Mr. Smithers," said Mr. Torpyhue, "but do you +know that you have developed into one of our most popular authors?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed?" queried Partington, pulling himself together and trying to +appear gratified.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. Here is a bundle of twenty-four letters all received within +three days. One of the letters calls you the best writer of short +stories of the day. Another, from Canada, written by a parent, says that +you have written one of the most delightful bits of juvenile humor that +he has seen in forty years."</p> + +<p>"How extremely flattering!" said Partington, faintly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, extremely," assented the editor, dryly. "And now, Mr. Smithers, +I'm going to do for you what this paper has never done even to its most +popular author in the past."</p> + +<p>"Now, my dear Mr. Torpyhue," began Partington, gaining courage, "I beg +you not to feel called upon to discriminate against your old favorites +in my favor. Your present rates of payment are entirely satisfac—"</p> + +<p>"You misunderstand me, Mr. Smithers," interrupted Mr. Torpyhue. "What +I'm going to do to you that I never before have done even to our most +popular author is to return to you at once every one of those highly +entertaining manuscripts you have favored us with—we receive so many +real letters from real children that, of course, we cannot afford to buy +from you purely fictitious ones. These of yours are excellently well +done, but you see my point. One does not pay for things that can be had +gratis. Perhaps later you will try us with something else," he added, +with a grin.</p> + +<p>Here Mr. Torpyhue paused, and Partington tried to think of something to +say. It was all so sudden, however, and, in spite of his misgivings, so +extremely unexpected, that his breath was taken away. He had neither +breath nor presence of mind enough left even to deny the allegation, and +when he did recover his breath he found himself walking dejectedly down +the stairs of the <i>Nursery Days</i> building with his bundle of encomia in +his hands.</p> + +<p>"I wonder how he caught on!" he groaned, as half an hour later he +entered his room and threw himself face downward on his couch.</p> + +<p>Investigation after dinner gave him a clue.</p> + +<p>Not one of the letters had been mailed from the town in which it had +been dated. The envelope containing the Washington letter bore the +Boston postmark. The Brooklyn missive had been sent from Chicago, that +from Norwich had been posted at Yonkers, and vice versa, and so on +through the whole list. Each and every one had, through some evil +chance, started wrong. In addition to this, Partington found that in a +forgetful moment he had appended to two of the communications an +editorial response promising more work from Mr. Smithers.</p> + +<p>"I must have been muddled by my success with 'Tommy and the +Huckleberry-tree,'" he sighed, as he cast the documents into the fire. +"If that's the effect literary honors have on me I'd better quit the +profession, which leaves only two things to be done. I shall have to +commit one of two crimes—suicide or matrimony. The question now is, +which?"</p> + +<p>He thought deeply for a moment, and then, putting on his hat and +overcoat, he turned off the gas and left the room.</p> + +<p>"I'll call on Harris, borrow a cent from him, and let the toss decide," +he said, as he passed out into the night.</p> + +<p>Is it really any wonder that Mr. Smithers has given up literature?</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="THE_BASE_INGRATITUDE_OF_BARKIS_MD"></a><h2>THE BASE INGRATITUDE OF BARKIS, M.D.</h2> +<br /> + +<p>The time has arrived when it is possibly proper that I should make a +note of the base ingratitude of Barkis, M.D. I have hesitated to do this +hitherto for several reasons, any one of which would prove a valid +excuse for my not doing so. To begin with, I have known Barkis ever +since he was a baby. I have tossed him in the air, to his own delight +and to the consternation of his mother, who feared lest I should fail to +catch him on his way down, or that I should underestimate the distance +between the top of his head and the ceiling on his way up. Later I have +held him on my knee and told him stories of an elevating nature—mostly +of my own composition—and have afterwards put these down upon paper and +sold them to syndicates at great profit. So that, in a sense, I am +beholden to Barkis for some measure of my prosperity. Then, when Barkis +grew older, I taught him the most approved methods of burning his +fingers on the Fourth of July, and when he went to college I am +convinced that he gained material aid from me in that I loaned him my +college scrap-books, which contained, among other things, a large number +of examination papers which I marvel greatly to-day that I was ever able +successfully to pass, and which gave to him some hint as to the ordeal +he was about to go through. In his younger professional days, also, I +have been Barkis's friend, and have called him up, to minister to a pain +I never had, at four o'clock in the morning, simply because I had reason +to believe that he needed four or five dollars to carry him through the +ensuing hours of the day.</p> + +<p>Quotation books have told us that in love, as well as in war, all is +fair, and if this be true Barkis's ingratitude, the narration of which +cannot now give pain to any one, becomes, after all, nothing more than a +venial offence. I do not place much reliance upon the ethics of +quotation books generally, but when I remember my own young days, and +the things I did to discredit the other fellow in that little affair +which has brought so much happiness into my own life, I am inclined to +nail my flag to the masthead in defence of the principle that lovers can +do no wrong. It is no ordinary stake that a lover plays for, and if he +stacks the cards, and in other ways turns his back upon the guiding +principles of his life, blameworthy as he may be, I shall not blame him, +but shall incline rather towards applause.</p> + +<p>On the other hand, something is due to the young ladies in the case, and +as much for their sake as for any other reason have I set upon paper +this narrative of the man's ingratitude, simply telling the story and +drawing no conclusions whatever.</p> + +<p>Barkis was not endowed with much in the way of worldly possessions. His +father had died when the lad was very young, and had left the boy and +his mother to struggle on alone. But there was that in both of them +which enabled the mother to feel that the boy was worth struggling for, +and the boy at a very early age to realize the difficulties of the +struggle, and to like the difficulties because they afforded him an +opportunity to help his mother either by not giving her unnecessary +trouble or in bringing to her efforts in their mutual behalf aid of a +very positive kind.</p> + +<p>Boys of this kind—and in saying this I cast no reflections whatsoever +upon that edifying race of living creatures whom I admire and respect +more than any other—are so rare that it did not take the neighbors of +the Barkis family many days to discover that the little chap was worth +watching, and if need be caring for in a way which should prove +substantial. There are so many ways, too, in which one may help a boy +without impairing his self-reliance that on the whole it was not very +difficult to assist Barkis. So when one of his neighbors employed him in +his office at a salary of eight dollars a week, when other boys received +only four for similar service, the lad, instead of feeling himself +favored, assumed an obligation and made himself worth five times as much +as the other boys, so that really his employer, and not he, belonged to +the debtor class.</p> + +<p>Some said it was a pity that little Barkis wasted his talents in a real +estate office, but they were the people who didn't know him. He expended +his nervous energy in the real estate office, but his mind he managed to +keep free for the night school, and when it came to the ultimate it was +found that little Barkis had wasted nothing. He entered college when +several other boys—who had not served in a real estate office, who had +received diplomas from the high-school, and who had played while he had +studied—failed.</p> + +<p>That his college days were a trial to his mother every one knew. She +wished him to keep his end up, and he did—and without spending all that +his mother sent him, either. The great trouble was that at the end of +his college course it was understood that Barkis intended studying +medicine. When that crept out the neighbors sighed. They deprecated the +resolve among themselves, but applauded the boy's intention to his face.</p> + +<p>"Good for you, Jack!" said one. "You are just the man for a doctor, and +I'll give you all my business."</p> + +<p>This man, of course, was a humorist.</p> + +<p>Another said: "Jack, you are perfectly right. Real estate and coal are +not for you. Go in for medicine; when my leg is cut off you shall do the +cutting."</p> + +<p>To avoid details, however, some of which would make a story in +themselves, Jack Barkis went through college, studied medicine, received +his diploma as a full-fledged M.D., and settled down at Dumfries Corners +for practice. And practice did not come! And income was not.</p> + +<p>It was plainly visible to the community that Barkis was hard up, as the +saying is, and daily growing more so. To make matters worse, it was now +impossible to help him as the boy had been helped. He was no longer a +child, but a man; and the pleasing little subterfuges, which we had +employed to induce the boy to think he was making his way on his own +sturdy little legs, with the man were out of the question. His clothing +grew threadbare, and there were stories of insufficient nourishment. As +time went on the outward and visible signs of his poverty increased, +yet no one could devise any plan to help him.</p> + +<p>And then came a solution, and inasmuch as it was brought about by the +S.F.M.E., an association of a dozen charming young women in the city +forming the Society for Mutual Encouragement, or Enjoyment, or +Endorsement, or something else beginning with E—I never could ascertain +definitely what the E stood for—it would seem as if the young ladies +should have received greater consideration than they did when prosperity +knocked at the Doctor's door.</p> + +<p>It seems that the Doctor attended a dance one evening in a dress coat, +the quality and lack of quantity of which were a flagrant indication of +a sparse, not to say extremely needy, wardrobe. All his charm of manner, +his grace in the dance, his popularity, could not blind others to the +fact that he was ill-dressed, and the girls decided that something must +be done, and at once.</p> + +<p>"We might give a lawn fete for his benefit," one of them suggested.</p> + +<p>"He isn't a church or a Sunday-school," Miss Daisy Peters retorted. +"Besides, I know Jack Barkis well enough to know that he would never +accept charity from any one. We've got to help him professionally."</p> + +<p>"We might boycott all the fellows at dances," suggested Miss Wilbur, +"unless they will patronize the Doctor. Decline to dance with them +unless they present a certificate from Jack proving that they are his +patients."</p> + +<p>"Humph!" said Miss Peters. "That wouldn't do any good. They are all +healthy, and even if they did go to Jack for a prescription the chances +are they wouldn't pay him. They haven't much more money than he has."</p> + +<p>"I am afraid that is true," assented Miss Wilbur. "Indeed, if they have +any at all, I can't say that they have given much sign of it this +winter. The Bachelors' Cotillon fell through for lack of interest, they +said, but I have my doubts on that score. It's my private opinion they +weren't willing or able to pay for it."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm sure I don't know what we can do to help Jack. If he had our +combined pocket-money he'd still be poor," sighed Miss Peters.</p> + +<p>"He couldn't be induced to take it unless he earned it," said little +Betsy Barbett. "You all know that."</p> + +<p>"Hurrah!" cried Miss Peters, clapping her hands ecstatically; "I have +it! I have it! I have it! We'll put him in the way of earning it."</p> + +<p>And they all put their heads together, and the following was the result:</p> + +<p>The next day Jack Barkis's telephone rang more often in an hour than it +had ever done before in a month, and every ring meant a call.</p> + +<p>The first call was from Miss Daisy Peters, and he responded.</p> + +<p>"I'm so sorry to send for you—er—Doctor," she said—she had always +called him Jack before, but now he had come +professionally—"for—for—Rover, but the poor dog is awfully sick +to-day, and Doctor Pruyn was out of town. Do you mind?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly not, Daisy," he replied, a shade of disappointment on his +face. I am inclined to believe he had hoped to find old Mr. Peters at +death's door. "If the dog is sick I can help him. What are his +symptoms?"</p> + +<p>And Miss Peters went on to say that her cherished Rover, she thought, +had malaria. He was tired and lazy, when usually he rivalled the cow +that jumped over the moon in activity. She neglected to say that she had +with her own fair hands given the poor beast a dose of sulphonal the +night before—not enough to hurt him, but sufficient to make him appear +tired and sleepy.</p> + +<p>"I must see my patient," said the Doctor, cheerfully. "Will he come if I +whistle?"</p> + +<p>Miss Peters was disinclined to accede to this demand. She was beginning +to grow fearful that Jack would see through her little subterfuge, and +that the efforts of the S.F.M.E. would prove fruitless.</p> + +<p>"Oh," she demurred, "is that—er—necessary? Rover isn't a child, you +know. He won't stick out his tongue if you tell him to—and, er—I don't +think you could tell much from his pulse—and—"</p> + +<p>"I'd better see him, though," observed Jack, quietly. "I certainly can't +prescribe unless I do."</p> + +<p>So Rover was brought out, and it was indeed true that his old-time +activity had been superseded by a lethargy which made the wagging of +his tail a positive effort. Still, Doctor Barkis was equal to the +occasion, prescribed for the dog, and on his books that night wrote down +a modest item as against Mr. Billington Peters and to his own financial +credit. Furthermore, he had promised to call again the next day, which +meant more practice.</p> + +<p>On his return home he found a hurry call awaiting him. Miss Betsy +Barbett had dislocated her wrist. So to the Barbett mansion sped Doctor +Barkis, and there, sure enough, was Miss Barbett apparently suffering +greatly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am so glad you have come," she moaned. "It hurts dreadfully, +Jack—I mean Doctor."</p> + +<p>"I'll fix that in a second," said he, and he did, although he thought it +odd that there were no signs of any inflammation. He was not aware that +one of the most cherished and fascinating accomplishments of Miss +Barbett during her childhood had been her ability to throw her wrist out +of joint. She could throw any of her joints out of place, but she +properly chose her wrist upon this occasion as being the better joint to +intrust to a young physician. If Jack had known that until his coming +her wrist had been all right, and that it had not become disjointed +until he rang the front door bell of the Barbett house, he might not +have been so pleased as he entered the item against Judge Barbett in his +book, nor would he have wondered at the lack of inflammation.</p> + +<p>So it went. The Hicks's cook was suddenly taken ill—Mollie Hicks gave +her a dollar to do it—and Jack was summoned. The Tarletons' coachman +was kept out on a wet night for two hours by Janette Tarleton, and very +properly contracted a cold, for which the young woman made herself +responsible, and Doctor Barkis was called in. Then the society itself +discovered many a case among the worthy poor needing immediate medical +treatment from Barkis, M.D., and, although Jack wished to make no +charge, insisted that he should, and threatened to employ some one else +if he didn't.</p> + +<p>By degrees a practice resulted from this conspiracy of the S.F.M.E., and +then a municipal election came along, and each candidate for the +Mayoralty was given quietly to understand by parties representing the +S.F.M.E., that unless jack Barkis was made health officer of the city +he'd better look out for himself, and while both candidates vowed they +had made no pledges, each had sworn ten days before election-day by all +that was holy that Barkis should have this eighteen-hundred-dollar +office—and he got it! Young women may not vote, but they have influence +in small cities.</p> + +<p>At the end of the second year of the S.F.M.E.'s resolve that Barkis must +be cared for he was in receipt of nearly twenty-eight hundred dollars a +year, could afford a gig, and so command a practice; and having obtained +his start, his own abilities took care of the rest.</p> + +<p>And then what did Jack Barkis, M.D., do? When luxuries began to manifest +themselves in his home—indeed, when he found himself able to rent a +better one—whom did he ask to share its joys with him?</p> + +<p>Miss Daisy Peters, who had dosed her dog that he might profit? No, +indeed!</p> + +<p>Miss Betsy Barbett, who disfigured her fair wrist in his behalf? Alas, +no!</p> + +<p>Miss Hicks, who had spent a dollar to bribe a cook that he might earn +two? No, the ungrateful wretch!</p> + +<p>Any member of the S.F.M.E.? I regret to say not.</p> + +<p>He went and married a girl from Los Angeles, whom he met on one of the +summer vacations the S.F.M.E. had put within his reach—a girl from whom +no portion of his measure of prosperity had come.</p> + +<p>Such was the ingratitude of Barkis. They have never told me so, but I +think the S.F.M.E. feel it keenly. Barkis I believe to be unconscious of +it—but then he is in love with Mrs. Barkis, which is proper; and as I +have already indicated, when a man is in love there are a great many +things he does not see—in fact, there is only one thing he does see, +and that is Her Majesty, the Queen. I can't blame Barkis, and even +though I was aware of the conspiracy to make him prosperous, I did not +think of the ungrateful phase of it all until I spoke to Miss Peters +about his <i>fiancée</i>, who had visited Dumfries Corners.</p> + +<p>"She's charming," said I. "Don't you think so?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes," said Miss Peters, dubiously.</p> + +<p>"But I don't see why Jack went to Los Angeles for a wife."</p> + +<p>"Ah?" said I. "Maybe it was the only place where he could find one."</p> + +<p>"Thank you!" snapped Miss Peters. "For my part, I think the Dumfries +Corners girls are quite as attractive—ah—Betsy Barbett for +instance—or any other girl in Jack's circle."</p> + +<p>"Like yourself?" I smiled.</p> + +<p>"My!" she cried. "How can you say such a thing?"</p> + +<p>And really I was sorry I had said it. It seemed so like twitting a +person on facts, when I came to think about it.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="THE_UTILITARIAN_MR_CARRAWAY"></a><h2>THE UTILITARIAN MR. CARRAWAY</h2> +<br /> + +<p>The Christmas season was approaching, and Mr. Carraway, who had lately +become something of a philosopher, began to think about gifts for his +wife and children. The more he thought of them, the more firmly was he +convinced that there was something radically wrong with the system of +giving that had prevailed in past years. He conjured up visions of the +useless things he had given and received on previous occasions, and an +inventory of his personal receipts at the four celebrations leading up +to the present disclosed the fact that he was long on match-boxes, +cigar-cases, and smoking-jackets, the last every one of them too small, +with an appalling supply of knitted and crocheted objects, the gifts of +his children, in reserve. His boot-closet was a perfect revelation of +the misdirected Christmas energies of the young, disclosing, as it +always did upon occasions when he was in a great hurry, a half-dozen +pairs of worsted slippers, which he had received at Yuletide, some of +them adorned with stags of beads leaping over zephyr walls, and others +made in the image of cats of extraordinary color, with yellow glass eyes +set in directly over the toe whereon he kept his favorite corn. I am not +sure that it was not the stepping of an awkward visitor upon one of +these same glass eyes, while these slippers for the first time covered +his feet, that set Mr. Carraway to cogitating upon the hollowness of +"Christmas as She is Celebrated." Indeed, it is my impression that at +the very moment when that bit of adornment was pressed down upon Mr. +Carraway's corn he announced rather forcibly his disbelief in the +utility of any such infernal Christmas present as that. And as time went +on, and that offending, staring slipper slipped into his hand every time +he searched the closet in the dark for a left patent-leather pump, or +some other missing bit of foot-gear, the conviction grew upon him that +of the great reforms of which the world stood in crying need, the +reformation of the Christmas gift was possibly the most important.</p> + +<p>The idea grew to be a mania with him, and he gradually developed into a +utilitarian of the most pronounced type. Nothing in the world so suited +him as an object, homely or otherwise, that could be used for something; +the things that were used for nothing had no attractions for him. After +this he developed further, and discovered new uses for old objects. Mrs. +Carraway's parlor vases were turned into receptacles for matches, or +papers, according to their size. The huge Satsuma vase became a more or +less satisfactory bill-file; and the cloisonné jar, by virtue of its +great durability, Mr. Carraway used as a receptacle for the family +golf-balls, much to the trepidation of his good wife, who considered +that the vase, like some women, had in its beauty a sufficient cause for +existence, and who would have preferred going without golf forever to +the destruction of her treasured bit of bric-à-brac.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Carraway did her best to stay the steady advance in utilitarianism +of her husband. She could bide with him in most matters. In fact, until +it came to the use of the cloisonné jar for a golf-ball reservoir, she +considered the idea at least harmless, and was forced to admit that it +indeed held many good points.</p> + +<p>"I think it is perfectly proper," she said, "to consider all things from +the point of view of their utility. I do not believe in sending a +ball-dress to a poor woman who is starving or suffering for want of +coal, but I must say, John, that you carry your theory too far when you +insist on using an object for some purpose for which it was manifestly +never intended."</p> + +<p>"But who is to say what a thing is manifestly made for?" demanded +Carraway. "You don't know, or at least you can't say positively, what +one of many possible uses the designer and maker of any object had in +mind when he designed and made that especial object. This particular +vase was fashioned by a heathen. It is beautiful and graceful, but +beyond producing something beautiful and graceful, how can you say what +other notion that heathen had as to its possible usefulness? He may have +made it to hold flowers. He may have intended it for a water-jug. He may +have considered it a suitable, receptacle in which its future favored +owner might keep his tobacco, or his opium, or any one of the thousand +and one things that you can put in a vase with a hope of getting it out +again."</p> + +<p>"Well, we know he didn't intend it for golf-balls, anyhow," said Mrs. +Carraway. "For the very simple reason that the heathen don't play golf."</p> + +<p>"They may play some kind of a game which is a heathen variation of +golf," observed Mr. Carraway, coldly.</p> + +<p>"That couldn't be," persisted Mrs. Carraway. "judging from the effect of +Sunday golf-playing on church attendance, I don't think anything more +completely pagan than golf could be found. However—"</p> + +<p>"But the fact remains, my dear," Carraway interrupted, "that while we +may surmise properly enough that the original maker of an object did not +intend it to be used for certain purposes, you cannot say positively, +because you don't know that your surmise is absolutely correct."</p> + +<p>"But I think you can," said Mrs. Carraway. "In fact, <i>I</i> will say +positively that the man who made our new frying-pan made it to fry +things in, and not to be used in connection with a tack-hammer as a +dinner-gong. I know that the hardware people who manufactured our +clothes-boiler, down in the laundry, did not design it as a toy +bass-drum for the children to bang on on the morning of the Fourth of +July. I would make a solemn affidavit to the fact that the maker of a +baby-carriage never dreamed of its possible use as an impromptu toboggan +for a couple of small boys to coast downhill on in midsummer. Yet these +things have been used for these various purposes in our own household +experience. A megaphone can be used as a beehive, and a hammock can be +turned into a fly-net for a horse, but you never think of doing so; and, +furthermore, you <i>can</i> say positively that while the things may be used +for these purposes, the original maker never, never, never thought of +it."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense," said Carraway, wilting a little. "Nonsense. You argue just +like a woman—"</p> + +<p>"I think that was what I was designed for," laughed Mrs. Carraway. "Of +course I do."</p> + +<p>"Oh! but what I mean is that you take utterly ridiculous and extreme +cases. The things never could happen. Who'd ever dream of making a +beehive out of a megaphone?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I think it might occur to the same ingenious mind that discovered +that a cloisonné vase would hold golf-balls," smiled Mrs. Carraway.</p> + +<p>Carraway laughed. "There you go again," he said. "I wonder why women +can't argue without becoming ridiculous? It would be mighty poor economy +to pay $4 for a megaphone as a substitute for a $2 beehive."</p> + +<p>"That is true," said Mrs. Carraway. "I never thought of that."</p> + +<p>"Of course you didn't," retorted Carraway, triumphantly. "Of course you +didn't; and that's what I mean when I say you argue like a woman. You +get hold of what seems on the surface to be a regular solar-plexus +retort, and fail to see how it becomes a boomerang before you can say +Jack Robinson."</p> + +<p>"I suppose if I hadn't been worried about the vase I would have thought +of it," said Mrs. Carraway, meekly. "It worries me to see a $150 vase +used for a purpose that a fifty-cent calico bag would serve quite as +well."</p> + +<p>Carraway glanced searchingly at his wife.</p> + +<p>"Well—ah—hem!" he said. "Quite right, my dear, quite right. I think, +on the whole, you would better get the calico bag."</p> + +<p>For a few days after this little discussion Carraway was very reticent +about his utilitarian ideas. The more he thought of his wife's retort +the less secure he felt in his own position, and he was very sorry he +had spoken about boomerangs and solar-plexus retorts. But with time he +recovered his equanimity, and early in December returned to his old +ways.</p> + +<p>"I've just been up in the attic," he said to his wife one Sunday +afternoon, when he appeared on the scene rather dusty of aspect. +"There's a whole lot of useful stuff up there going to waste. I found +four old beaver hats, any one of which would make a very good +waste-basket for the spare bedroom if it was, suitably trimmed; and I +don't see why you don't take these straw hats of mine and make +work-baskets of them."</p> + +<p>Here he held out two relics of bygone fashions to his wife. Mrs. +Carraway took them silently. She was so filled with suppressed laughter +over her husband's suggestions that she hardly dared to speak lest she +should give way to her mirth, and a man does not generally appreciate +mirth at his own expense after he has been rummaging in an attic for an +hour or more, filling his lungs and covering his clothes and hands with +dust.</p> + +<p>However, after a moment she managed to blurt out, "Perhaps I can make +one of them dainty enough to send to your mother for her Christmas +present."</p> + +<p>"I was about to suggest that very same thing," said Carraway, brushing +the dust from his sleeve. "Either you could send it or Mollie"—Mollie +was Mr. Carraway's small daughter. "I think Mollie's grandmother would +be more pleased with a gift of that kind than with one of the useless +little fallals that children give their grandparents on Christmas Day. +What did she give her last year?"</p> + +<p>The question was opportune, for it gave Mrs. Carraway a chance to laugh +outright with some other ostensible object than her husband. She +availed herself of the chance, threw her head back, and shook +convulsively.</p> + +<p>"She sent her a ball of shaving-paper," Mrs. Carraway said.</p> + +<p>A faint smile flitted over Carraway's face. "Well, it might have been +worse," he said. "She can use it for curling-paper." He paused a moment. +Then he said: "I want to say to you, my dear, that—ah—I want Christmas +celebrated this year after my plan of selection. Instead of squandering +our hard-earned dollars on things no sensible person wants and none can +use, we will consider, first of all, practical utility."</p> + +<p>"Very well," sighed Mrs. Carraway. "I quite agree as far as you and I +are concerned—but how about the children? I don't think Tommie would +feel very happy to wake up on Christmas morning and find a pair of +suspenders and a new suit of clothes under the tree. He needs both, but +he wants tin soldiers. And as for Mollie, she expects a doll."</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't wish to be hard on the children," said Mr. Carraway, "but +now is the time to begin training them. There may be a temporary +disappointment, but in the end they will be happier for it. Of course I +don't say to give them necessities of life for Christmas, but in +selecting what we do give them, get something useful. Dolls and tin +soldiers and toy balloons are well enough in their way, but they are +absolutely useless. Therefore, I say, don't give them such things. +Surely Mollie would be pleased to receive a nice little fur tippet or a +muff, and I'll get Tommie a handsome snow-shovel, that he can use when +he cleans off the paths. He won't mind; it will be a gift worth having, +and by degrees he'll come to see that the plan of utility is a good +one."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Carraway discreetly held her tongue, although she was far from +approving Carraway's course in so far as it affected the children. She +tacitly agreed to the proposition, but there was the light of an idea in +her eye.</p> + +<p>The days intervening before Christmas passed rapidly away, and Christmas +eve finally came. Tommie and Mollie were bubbling over with suppressed +excitement, and frequently went off into spasms of giggles. There was +something very funny in the wind evidently. After dinner the small +family repaired to the library, where the children were in the habit of +distributing their gifts for their parents on the night before +Christmas. Mrs. Carraway was beaming, and so was Mr. Carraway. The +children had been informed of what they were to expect, and after an +hour or two of regret, they had put their little heads together, giggled +a half-dozen times, and accepted the situation.</p> + +<p>"Your mother has presented me with a ton of coal, children," said +Carraway, smiling happily. "Now you may think that a funny sort of +gift—"</p> + +<p>"Yeth, papa," said Mollie.</p> + +<p>"Awful funny," said Tommie, wiggling with glee.</p> + +<p>"Well, it does seem so at first, but, now, how much better to give me +that than to present me with something that I could look at for a few +days and then would have no further use for!"</p> + +<p>"That's so, pa," said Mollie.</p> + +<p>"I guess you're right," said Tommie. "Wat cher got for ma?"</p> + +<p>"I have given her a brand-new set of china for the dining-room," said +Mr. Carraway.</p> + +<p>"And it was just what I needed," said Mrs. Carraway, happily. "And now, +children, go up-stairs, and bring down your presents for your father."</p> + +<p>The children sped noisily out of the room and up the stairs.</p> + +<p>"I hope you impressed it on their minds that I wanted nothing useless?" +said Carraway.</p> + +<p>"I did," said Mrs. Carraway. "I explained the whole thing to them, and +told them what they might expect to receive. Then I gave them each ten +dollars of the money they'd saved, and let them go shopping on their own +account. I don't know what they bought you, but it's something huge."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Carraway had hardly finished when the two giggling tots came into +the room, carrying with difficulty a parcel, which, as Mrs. Carraway had +said, was indeed huge. Mr. Carraway eyed it with curiosity as the string +was unfastened and the package burst open.</p> + +<p>"There," cried Tommie, breathlessly.</p> + +<p>"It's all for you, pa, from Mollie and me."</p> + +<p>The two children stood to one side. Mrs. Carraway appeared surprised in +an amused fashion, while Carraway stood appalled at what lay before him, +as well he might; for the package contained a great wax doll with deep +staring blue eyes, a small doll's house with two floors in it and a +front door that opened, china and chairs and table and bureaus in +miniature to furnish the house—indeed, all the paraphernalia of a +well-ordered residence for a French doll. Besides these were two boxes +of tin soldiers, cannon, tents, swords, a fully equipped lead army, a +mechanical fish, and a small zinc steamboat, suitable for a cruise in a +bath-tub.</p> + +<p>Carraway looked at the children, and the children looked at Carraway.</p> + +<p>"Why," said he, as soon as he could recover his equanimity, "there must +be some mistake."</p> + +<p>"No," said Mollie. "We picked 'em out for you ourselves. We thought +you'd need 'em."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Carraway turned away to cough slightly.</p> + +<p>"Need them?" demanded Carraways with a perplexed frown. "When?"</p> + +<p>"Oh—to-morrow," said Tommie.</p> + +<p>"What for?" demanded Carraway.</p> + +<p>"<i>Why, to give to us, of course</i>" said the children in chorus.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"My dear," said Carraway, two hours later, after the children had +retired, "I've been thinking this thing over."</p> + +<p>"Yes?" said Mrs. Carraway.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Carraway; "and I've made up my mind that those children of +ours are born geniuses. I don't believe, after all, they could have +selected anything which would be more satisfactorily useful in the +present emergency."</p> + +<p>"Well," observed Mrs. Carraway, quietly, "I don't either. I thought so +at the time when they asked my permission to do their shopping at the +International Toy Bazar."</p> + +<p>"It's a solar-plexus retort, just the same," said Carraway, as he shook +his head and went to bed. "I think on the 1st of January, if you have no +objections, Mrs. Carraway, I will forswear utilitarianism—and you may +remove the golf-balls from the cloisonné vase as soon as you choose."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="THE_BOOK_SALES_OF_MR_PETERS"></a><h2>THE BOOK SALES OF MR. PETERS</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Like many another town which frankly confesses itself to be a "city of +the third class," Dumfries Corners is not only well provided but +somewhat overburdened with impecunious institutions of a public and +semi-public nature. The large generosity of persons who never give to, +but are often identified with, churches, hospitals, associations of +philanthropic intent of one kind and another, in Dumfries Corners as +elsewhere, is frequently the cause of embarrassment to persons who do +give without being lavish of the so-called influence of their names. +There are quite a dozen individuals out of the forty thousand souls who +live in that favored town who find it convenient to give away as much as +five hundred dollars annually for the maintenance of milk dispensaries, +hospitals, and other deserving enterprises of similar nature for the +needy. Yet at the close of each fiscal year those who have given to this +extent are invariably confronted by "reports," issued by officials of +the various institutions, frankly confessing failure to make both ends +meet, and everybody wonders why more interest has not been taken. +"Surely, we have loaned our names!" they say. It never occurs to anybody +that one successful charity is better than six failures. It has never +entered into the minds of the managers of these enterprises that a man +disposed to give away five hundred dollars could make his contributions +to the public welfare more efficacious by giving the whole to one +institution instead of dividing it among twenty.</p> + +<p>However, human nature is the same everywhere, and until the crack of +doom sounds mankind will be found undertaking more charity than it can +carry through successfully, not only in Dumfries Corners, but everywhere +else. It would be difficult to fix the responsibility for this state of +affairs, although the large generosity of those who lend their names and +blockade their pockets may consider itself a candidate for chief honors +in this somewhat vital matter. It may be, too, that the large generosity +of people who really are largely generous with their thousands has +something to do with it. There is more than one ten-thousand-dollar town +in existence which has accepted a hundred-thousand-dollar hospital from +generously disposed citizens, and the other citizens thereof have +properly hailed their benefactor's name with loud acclaim, but the +hundred-thousand-dollar hospital, which might have been a +fifty-thousand-dollar hospital, with an endowment of fifty thousand more +to make it self-supporting, has a tendency to ruin other charities quite +as worthy, because its maintenance pumps dry the pockets of those who +have to give. It will require a drastic course of training, I fear, to +open the eyes of the public to the fact that even generosity can be +overdone, and I must disclaim any desire to superintend the process of +securing their awakening, for it is an ungrateful task to criticise even +a mistakenly generous person; and man being by nature prone to +thoughtless judgments, the critic of a philanthropist who spends a +million of dollars to provide tortoise-shell combs for bald beggars +would shortly find himself in hot water. Therefore let us discuss not +the causes, but some of the results of the system which has placed upon +suburban shoulders such seemingly hopeless philanthropic burdens. At +Dumfries Corners the book sales of Mr. Peters, one of the vestrymen, +were one of these results.</p> + +<p>There were two of these sales. The first, like all book sales for +charity, consisted largely of the vending of ice-cream and cake. The +second was different; but I shall not deal with that until I have +described the first.</p> + +<p>This had been given at Mr. Peters's house, with the cheerful consent of +Mrs. Peters. The object was to raise seventy-five dollars, the sum +needed to repair the roof of Mr. Peters's church. In ordinary times the +congregation could have advanced the seventy-five dollars necessary to +keep the rain from trickling through the roof and leaking in a steady +stream upon the pew of Mrs. Bumpkin, a lady too useful in knitting +sweaters for the heathen in South Africa to be ignored. But in that year +of grace,</p> + +<p>1897, there had been so many demands made upon everybody, from the +Saint William's Hospital for Trolley Victims, from the Mistletoe Inn, a +club for workingmen which was in its initial stages and most worthily +appealed to the public purse, and for the University Extension Society, +whose ten-cent lectures were attended by the swellest people in Dumfries +Corners and their daughters—and so on—that the collections of Saint +George's had necessarily fallen off to such an extent that plumbers' +bills were almost as much of a burden to the rector as the needs of +missionaries in Borneo for dress-suits and golf-clubs. In this +emergency, Mr. Peters, whose account at his bank had been overdrawn by +his check which had paid for painting the Sunday-school room pink in +order that the young religious idea might be taught to shoot under more +roseate circumstances than the blue walls would permit, and so could not +well offer to have the roof repaired at his own expense, suggested a +book sale.</p> + +<p>"We can get a lot of books on sale from publishers," he said, "and I +haven't any doubt that Mrs. Peters will be glad to have the affair at +our house. We can surely raise seventy-five dollars in this way. +Besides, it will draw the ladies in the congregation together."</p> + +<p>The offer was accepted. Mrs. Peters acquiesced. Peters and his +co-workers asked favors and got them from friends in the publishing +world. The day came. The books arrived, and the net results to the +Roofing Fund of Saint George's were gratifying. The vestry had asked for +seventy-five dollars, and the sale actually cleared eighty-three! To be +sure, Mr. Wiggins spent fifty dollars at the sale. And Mrs. Thompson +spent forty-nine. And the cake-table took in thirty-eight. And the +ice-cream was sold, thanks to the voracity of the children, for nineteen +dollars. And some pictures which had been donated by Mrs. Bumpkin sold +for thirty-one dollars, and the gambling cakes, with rings and gold +dollars in them, cleared fifteen. Still, when it was all reckoned up, +eighty-three dollars stood to the credit of the roof! In affairs of this +kind, results, not expenses, are considered.</p> + +<p>Surely the venture was a success. Although from the point of view of +bringing the ladies of the congregation together—well, the less said +about that the better. In any event, parts of Dumfries Corners were +cooler the following summer than they had ever been before.</p> + +<p>And then, in the natural sequence of events, the next year came. The +hospital, and the inn, and the various other institutions of the city +indorsed by prominent names, but void of resources, as usual, left the +church so poor that something had to be done to repair the cellar of +Saint George's by outside effort, water leaking in from the street. The +matter was discussed, and the amount needed was settled upon. This time +Saint George's needed ninety dollars. It didn't really need so much, but +it was thought well to ask for more than was needed, "because then, you +know, you're more likely to get it."</p> + +<p>The book-cake-and-cream sale of the year before had been so successful +that everybody said: "By all means let us have another literary +afternoon at Mr. Peters's."</p> + +<p>"All right!" said Peters, calmly, when the project was suggested. +"Certainly! Of course! Have anything you please at my house. Not that I +am running a casino, but that I really enjoy turning my house inside out +in a good cause once in a while," he added, with a smile which those +about him believed to be sincere. "Only," said he, "kindly make me +master of ceremonies on this occasion."</p> + +<p>"Certainly!" replied the vestry. "If this thing is to be in your house +you ought to have everything to say about it."</p> + +<p>"I ask for control," said Peters, "not because I am fond of power, but +because experience has taught me that somebody should control affairs of +this sort."</p> + +<p>"Certainly," was the reply again, and Peters was made a committee of +one, with power to run the sale in his own way, and the vestry settled +down in that calm and contented frame of mind which goes with the +consciousness of solvency.</p> + +<p>Three months elapsed, and nothing was done. No cards were issued from +the home of Peters announcing a sale of any kind, cake, cream, or books, +and the literary afternoon seemed to have sunk into oblivion. The +chairman of the Committee on Supplies, however, having gone into the +cellar one morning to inspect the coal reserve, found himself obliged +either to wade knee deep in water or to neglect his duty—and, of +course, being a sensible man, he chose the latter course. He knew that +in impecunious churches willing candidates for vestry honors were rare, +and he, therefore, properly saved himself for future use. Wading in +water might have brought on pneumonia, and he was aware that there +really isn't any reason why a man should die for a cause if there is a +reasonable excuse for his living in the same behalf. But he went home +angry.</p> + +<p>"That cellar isn't repaired yet," he said to his wife. "You'd think from +the quantity of water there that ours was a Baptist church instead of +the Church of England."</p> + +<p>"It's a shame!" ejaculated his wife, who, having that morning finished +embroidering a centre-piece for the dinner-table of the missionaries in +Madagascar, was full of conscious rectitude. "A perfect shame; who's to +blame, dear?"</p> + +<p>"Peters," replied the chairman. "Same old story. He makes all sorts of +promises, and never carries 'em out. He thinks that just because he +pays a few bills we haven't anything to say. But he'll find out his +mistake. I'll call him down. I'll write him a letter he won't forget in +a hurry. If he wasn't willing to attend to the matter he had no business +to accept the responsibility. I'll write and tell him so."</p> + +<p>And then, the righteous wrath of the chairman of the Committee on +Supplies having expended itself in this explosion at his own +dinner-table, that good gentleman forgot all about it, did not write the +letter, and in fact never thought of the matter again until the next +meeting of the vestry, when he suavely and jokingly inquired if the +Committee on Leaks and Book Sales had any report to make. To his +surprise Mr. Peters responded at once.</p> + +<p>"Yes, gentlemen," he said, taking a check out of his pocket and handing +it to the treasurer. "The Committee on Leaks, Literature, and Lemonade +reports that the leak is still in excellent condition and is progressing +daily, while the Literature and Lemonade have produced the very +gratifying sum of one hundred and thirty-seven dollars and sixty-three +cents, a check for which I have just handed the treasurer."</p> + +<p>Even the rector looked surprised.</p> + +<p>"Pretty good result, eh?" said Peters. "You ask for ninety dollars and +get one hundred and thirty-seven dollars and sixty-three cents. You can +spend a hundred dollars now on the leak and make a perfect leak of it, +and have a balance of thirty-seven dollars and sixty-three cents to buy +books for the Hottentots or to invest in picture-books for the Blind +Asylum library."</p> + +<p>"Ah—Mr. Peters," said the chairman of the Committee on Supplies, +"I—ah—I was not aware that you'd had the sale. I—ah—I didn't receive +any notice."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes—we had it," said Peters, rubbing his hands together buoyantly. +"We had it last night, and it went off superbly."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry," said the chairman of the Committee on Supplies. "I should +like to have been there."</p> + +<p>"I didn't know of it myself, Mr. Peters," said the rector, "but I am +glad it was so successful. Were there many present?"</p> + +<p>"Well—no," said Peters. "Not many. Fact is, Mrs. Peters and the +treasurer here and I were the only persons present, gentlemen. But the +results sought were more than accomplished."</p> + +<p>"I don't see exactly how, unless we are to regard this check as a gift," +observed the chairman of the Committee on Supplies, coldly.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll tell you how," said Peters. "The check isn't a gift at all. +Last year you had a book sale at my house, and this year you voted to +have another. I couldn't very well object—didn't want to, in fact. Very +glad to have it as long as I was allowed to control it. But last year we +cleared up a bare eighty dollars. This year we have cleared up one +hundred and thirty-seven dollars and sixty-three cents. Last year's book +sale cost me one hundred and twenty-five dollars. The children who +attended, aided and abetted by my own, spilled so much ice cream on my +dining-room rug that Mrs. Peters was forced to send it to the cleaners. +A very charming young woman whose name I shall not mention placed a +chocolate eclair upon my library sofa while she inspected a volume of +Gibson's drawings. Another equally charming young woman sat down upon +it, and, whatever it did to her dress, that eclair effectually ruined +the covering of my sofa. Then, as you may remember, the sale of books +took place in my library, and I had the pleasure of seeing, too late, +one of our sweetest little saleswomen replenishing her stock from my +shelves. She had sold out all the books that had been provided, and in a +mad moment of enthusiasm for the cause parted with a volume I had +secured after much difficulty in London to complete a set of some rarity +for about seven dollars less than the book had cost."</p> + +<p>"Why did you not object?" demanded the chairman of the Committee on +Supplies.</p> + +<p>"My dear sir," said Mr. Peters, "I never object to anything my guests +may do, particularly if they are charming and enthusiastic young women +engaged in church work. But I learned a lesson, and last night's book +sale was the result. If the chairman of the Committee on Supplies +demands it, here is a full account of receipts."</p> + +<p>Mr. Peters handed over a memorandum which read as follows:</p> + + +<table align="center" border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Savings by not having Book Sale"> +<tr><td align="left">Saving on Floors by not having Book Sale,</td><td align="left">$18.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Saving on Carpets by not having Book Sale,</td><td align="left">6.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Saving on Library by not having Book Sale,</td><td align="left">29.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Saving on Time by not having Book Sale,</td><td align="left">50.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Saving on Furniture by not having Book Sale</td><td align="left">28.27</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Saving on Incidentals by not having Book Sale</td><td align="left">5.86</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">Total </td><td align="left">$137.63</td></tr></table> + + +<p>"With this statement, gentlemen," said Mr. Peters, suavely, "should the +Finance Committee require it, I am prepared to submit the vouchers which +show how much wear and tear on a house is required to raise eighty +dollars for the heathen."</p> + +<p>"That," said the chairman of the Finance Committee, "will not be +necessary—though—" and he added this wholly jocularly, "though I don't +think Mr. Peters should have charged for his time; fifty dollars is a +good deal of money."</p> + +<p>"He didn't charge for his time," murmured the treasurer. "In this +statement he has paid for it!"</p> + +<p>"Still," said he of Supplies, "the social end of it has been wiped out."</p> + +<p>"Of course it has," retorted Mr. Peters. "And a very good thing it has +been, too. Did you ever know of a church function that did not arouse +animosities among the women, Mr. Squills?"</p> + +<p>The gentleman, in the presence of men of truth, had to admit that he +never knew of such a thing.</p> + +<p>"Then what's the matter with my book sale?" demanded Peters. "It has +raised more money than last year; has cost me no more—and there won't +be any social volcanoes for the vestry to sit over during the coming +year."</p> + +<p>A dead silence came over all.</p> + +<p>"I move," said Mr. Jones, at whose house the meeting was held, "that we +go into executive session. Mrs. Jones has provided some cold birds, and +a—ah—salad."</p> + +<p>Mr. Jones's motion was carried, and before the meeting finally adjourned +under the genial influence of good-fellowship and pleasant converse Mr. +Peters's second book sale was voted to have been of the best quality.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="THE_VALOR_OF_BRINLEY"></a><h2>THE VALOR OF BRINLEY</h2> +<br /> + +<p>However differentiated from other suburban places Dumfries Corners maybe +in most instances, in the matter of obtaining and retaining efficient +domestics the citizens of that charming town find it much like all other +communities of its class. Civilization brings with it everywhere, it +would seem, problems difficult of solution, and conspicuous among them +may be mentioned the servant problem. It is probable that the only +really happy young couple that ever escaped the annoyance of this +particular evil were Adam and Eve, and as one recalls their case it was +the interference of a third party, in the matter of their diet, that +brought all their troubles upon them, so that even they may not be said +to have enjoyed complete immunity from domestic trials. What quality it +is in human nature that leads a competent housemaid or a truly-talented +culinary artist to abhor the country-side, and to prefer the dark, +cellar-like kitchens of the city houses it is difficult to surmise; why +the suburban housekeeper finds her choice limited every autumn to the +maid that the city folks have chosen to reject is not clear. That these +are the conditions which confront surburban residents only the +exceptionally favored rustic can deny.</p> + +<p>In Dumfries Corners, even were there no rich red upon the trees, no +calendar upon the walls, no invigorating tonic in the air to indicate +the season, all would know when autumn had arrived by the anxious, +hunted look upon the faces of the good women of that place as they ride +on the trains to and from the intelligence offices of the city looking +for additions to their <i>ménage</i>. Of course in Dumfries Corners, as +elsewhere, it is possible to employ home talent, but to do this requires +larger means than most suburbanites possess, for the very simple reason +that the home talent is always plentifully endowed with dependents. +These latter, to the number of eight or ten—which observation would +lead one to believe is the average of the successful local cook, for +instance—increase materially the butcher's and grocer's bills, and, one +not infrequently suspects, the coal man's as well.</p> + +<p>Years ago, when he was young and inexperienced, the writer of this +narrative, his suspicions having been aroused by the seeming social +popularity of his cook, took occasion one Sunday afternoon to count the +number of mysterious packages, of about a pound in weight each, which +set forth from his kitchen and were carried along his walk in various +stages of ineffectual concealment by the lady's visitors. The result was +by no means appalling, seven being the total. But granting that seven +was a fair estimate of the whole week's output, and that the stream +flowed on Sundays only, and not steadily through the other six days, the +annual output, on a basis of fifty weeks—giving the cook's generosity a +two weeks' vacation—three hundred and fifty pounds of something were +diverted from his pantry into channels for which they were not +originally designed, and on a valuation of twenty-five cents apiece his +minimum contribution to his cook's dependents became thereby very +nearly one hundred dollars. Add to this the probable gifts to similarly +fortunate relatives of a competent local waitress, of an equally +generously disposed laundress with cousins, not to mention the genial, +open-handed generosity of a hired man in the matter of kindling-wood and +edibles, and living becomes expensive with local talent to help.</p> + +<p>It is in recognition of this seemingly cast-iron rule that local service +is too expensive for persons of modest income, that the modern +economical house-wife prefers to fill her <i>ménage</i> with maids from the +metropolis, even though it happen that she must take those who for one +reason or another have failed to please her city sisters. It may be, +too, that this is one of the reasons for the constant changes in most +suburban houses, for it is equally axiomatic that once an alien becomes +acclimated she takes on a <i>clientèle</i> of adopted relatives, who in the +course of time become as much of a drain upon the treasury of the +household as the Simon-Pure article.</p> + +<p>The Brinleys had been through the domestic mill in its every phase. +They had had cooks, and cooks, and cooks, and maids, and maids, and +maids, plus other maids; they had been face to face with arson and +murder; Mrs. Brinley had parted a laundress armed with a flat-iron from +a belligerent cook armed with an ice-pick, and twice the ministers of +the law had carried certain irate women bodily forth with the direst of +threats lest they should return later and remove the Brinley family from +the list of the living.</p> + +<p>All of which contributed to Mrs. Brinley's unhappiness and rather +increased than diminished her natural timidity. Brinley, on the other +hand, professed to know no fear, but according to his theory that ways +and means were his care, and that the domestic affairs of his household +were his wife's, and beyond his jurisdiction, held himself aloof and +said never a word to the recalcitrant servant, confining what upbraiding +he did exclusively to Mrs. Brinley.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you scold Bridget?" cried Mrs. Brinley one morning, after +Brinley had made a few remarks to his wife which were not to her taste, +inasmuch as she felt that she had done nothing to deserve them. "I +didn't burn the steak."</p> + +<p>"That is very true, my dear," said Brinley, "but you are responsible for +the cook who did. It would never do for me to interfere. I have troubles +enough with my office-boys. This is your bailiwick, not mine, and until +I ask you to scold my clerks you mustn't ask me to scold your servants." +With this sage remark the valiant Brinley at once took his departure.</p> + +<p>Time passed, and it so happened one autumn that the once happy household +found itself in the throes of a particularly aggravated case of cook. +She was a sixteen-dollar cook, and had been recommended as being +"splendid." In just what respect she showed her splendor, save in her +regal lack of manners and the marvellous coloring of her costumes on her +Sundays out, was never perceptible, but one thing that was wholly clear +at the end of a three-weeks' service was her independence of manner.</p> + +<p>Meals were never ready on time, and the dinner-hour, instead of being a +fixed time beneath her sway, seemed to become a variable point, +according to the lady's whim. In the observance of the breakfast-hour +she was equally erratic, and on several trying occasions Brinley was on +the verge of the dilemma of either failing to keep an appointment in +town or going without his morning meal. Sometimes the coffee would come +to the table a thin, amber fluid that tasted like particularly bad +consommé. Again it would be served with all the thickness of a <i>purée</i>. +Her bread was similarly variable in its undesirability. There were +biscuits that held all the flaky charm of a snowball. There were loaves +of bread that reminded one of the stories of hardtack in Cuba during the +late unpleasantness. There were English muffins that rested upon poor +Brinley's digestion as the world may fairly be presumed to rest upon the +shoulders of Atlas, and, indeed, it is a tradition in the Brinley family +that one of this cook's pie-crusts rivalled Harveyized steel in its +impenetrability.</p> + +<p>Indeed, Brinley, usually a silent sufferer, commented upon this cohesive +quality of Ellen's pastry on two different occasions. On the first he +advised Mrs. Brinley to learn the secret of Ellen's manipulation of the +ingredients of a pie-crust, and have herself capitalized to rival the +corporations which provide the government with armor-plate. On the +second he made the sage though disagreeable remark that the "next +apple-pie we have should be served with individual steam-drills." And he +one day accompanied Mrs. Brinley to a quiet golf links, and, when he had +teed up, that good lady observed one of Ellen's doughnuts upon the +little mound of sand before him instead of his favorite ball.</p> + +<p>"I cut up the Silverton ball so," he said, as he addressed the tee, +"that I'm ashamed of myself. I may not play any better with this +doughnut, but it will never show the marks of the irons as a bit of mere +gutta-percha would."</p> + +<p>"If you feel that way about Ellen," Mrs. Brinley observed, just as +Brinley was about to drive off with a real ball, "I don't see why you +don't discharge her."</p> + +<p>Brinley took his eye off the ball to look indignantly upon his wife, and +consequently foozled.</p> + +<p>"Discharge her? Why should I discharge her?" he demanded, his temper +growing as he observed where he had landed his ball. "I'm not running +the house, my dear. You are. I didn't ask you to tell Miss Flossie +Fairfax that, as she couldn't spell, she was no longer useful as a +stenographer in the office of Brinley & Rutherford. Why should you ask +me to tell a cook that her services are no longer required in the +establishment of Brinley & Brinley, of which you are the manager?"</p> + +<p>"It isn't easy to discharge a girl," Mrs. Brinley began. "Particularly a +quarrelsome woman like Ellen."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's it," said Brinley. "You are afraid of her."</p> + +<p>"Not exactly," said Mrs. Brinley. "But—"</p> + +<p>"Of course, if you are afraid of her, I'll get rid of her," persisted +Brinley, valiantly. "Just wait until we get home. I'll show you a thing +or two when it comes to ridding one's self of an unfaithful servant. The +steak this morning looked like a stake that martyrs had been burned at, +and I am not afraid to say so."</p> + +<p>And so it was decided that Brinley, on his return home, should interview +Ellen and inform her that her services would not be required after the +first of the month.</p> + +<p>"Now let's play golf," he said. "I'll settle Ellen in a minute. Fore!"</p> + +<p>How Brinley fulfilled his promise is best shown by his talk with Mrs. +Brinley the next morning when, somewhat red of face, he rejoined her in +the dining-room after his interview with Ellen.</p> + +<p>"Well?" said Mrs. Brinley.</p> + +<p>"It's all right," Brinley replied, with an uneasy glance at his wife. +"She's going to stay."</p> + +<p>"Going to stay?" echoed Mrs. Brinley, her eyes opening, wide in a very +natural astonishment. "Why, I thought you were going to discharge her?"</p> + +<p>"Well—I was," he said, haltingly. "I was, of course. That's what I went +down for—but—er—you know, my dear, that there are two sides to every +question."</p> + +<p>"Even to Ellen's biscuits?" Mrs. Brinley laughed.</p> + +<p>"Never mind that. She's going to do better," said Brinley. "You'll find +that hereafter we've got a cook, and not an incendiary nor a forger of +armor-plate."</p> + +<p>"And may I ask how this wonderful reform has been worked in the brief +space of ten minutes?" asked Mrs. Brinley. "Have you hypnotized her?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Brinley. Then he looked rather sheepishly out of the window. +"I've given her an incentive to do better. I've increased her wages."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Brinley gazed at him silently in open-mouthed wonder for a full +half-minute.</p> + +<p>"You did what?" asked Mrs. Brinley.</p> + +<p>"I told her we'd give her twenty dollars a month instead of sixteen," +said Brinley. "You needn't laugh," he added. "I began very severely. +Asked her what she meant by ignoring our wishes as to hours. I dilated +forcefully upon her apparent fondness for burning, steaks to a crisp, +and sending broiled chicken to the table looking as if somebody had +dropped a flat-iron on them."</p> + +<p>"Good!" exclaimed Mrs. Brinley. "And what did she say? Was she +impertinent?"</p> + +<p>"Not a bit of it," said Brinley "She took it very nicely until I spoke +of the muffins, after which I had intended to give her notice to quit, +but she took the wind completely out of my sails by asking me what I +expected at sixteen dollars a month."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said Mrs. Brinley.</p> + +<p>"Exactly," said Brinley. "That was a point I had not considered at all. +After all, she was right. What can you expect for sixteen dollars?"</p> + +<p>"Well, what next?" asked Mrs. Brinley, her eyes a-twinkle.</p> + +<p>"I asked her if she thought she could do better on twenty dollars," he +answered. "She thought she could, and that's the way it stands now."</p> + +<p>"I see," said Mrs. Brinley, and then she burst into a perfect explosion +of laughter, which she soon curbed, however, as she noticed the +expression on poor Brinley's face. "I've no doubt you have acted with +perfect justice in this matter, my dear George," she said. "But I think +hereafter I'll do my own discharging. Your way is rather +extravagant—er—don't you really think so?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," said Brinley, and departed for town.</p> + +<p>"The madam is right about that," he said to himself later in the day, as +he thought over the incident. "But extravagant or not, I couldn't have +discharged that woman if somebody had offered me a clear hundred. Mrs. +B. doesn't know it, but I was in a blue funk from start to finish."</p> + +<p>In which surmise Brinley was wrong. Mrs. B. did know it, and when two +weeks later Ellen became absolutely impossible, and demanded a +kitchen-maid as the perquisite of a twenty-dollar cook, Mrs. Brinley +didn't think of calling upon her husband to perform the function of the +executioner, but like a brave woman actually summoned the cook into her +presence and did it herself. A less courageous woman would have gone +downstairs into the kitchen to do it.</p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="WILKINS"></a><h2>WILKINS</h2> +<br /> + +<p>It was a rather remarkable affair, taken altogether. Wilkins was not +what one would call an attractive man, and none of the young women of +Dumfries Corners who had met him had ever manifested anything but a +pronounced aversion to his society.</p> + +<p>"I'd rather be a wall-flower than dance with Sam Wilkins," one of these +young women had said. "He not only can't dance, but, what is infinitely +worse, he doesn't know that he can't dance, and as for his +conversation—well, give me silence."</p> + +<p>"You are perfectly right about that," said another. "Whenever I see him +about to waltz or two-step, I immediately remove myself from the scene, +and pray for the girl he's dancing with. He is a train-wrecker, and the +favorite resting-place for his heels is on some one else's foot. I've +heard that he steps on his own feet, too, he's so awkward, and I hope he +does if it hurts him as much as he hurts me when he steps on mine."</p> + +<p>For Wilkins's sake I am very sorry to say that this feeling towards him +was invariable. I never cared much for him myself, but I felt rather +sorry for him when I perceived the persistent snubbing with which he was +everywhere received. He never seemed aware of it himself, happily, +however, and accepted my merely sympathetic attentions with that +superciliousness which always goes with conscious rectitude.</p> + +<p>Conscious rectitude, I think, was Wilkins's trouble. He was good, and he +was aware of it, but he was not content with that. He wanted everybody +else to be good. I really believe that Wilkins could have carried on a +Platonic love affair with an auburn-haired girl for ten weeks without an +effort, he was so terribly good, which did not at all contribute to his +popularity. A fellow who talks about ritualism while walking in the +moonlight with a sentimental woman, doesn't count for much, and Wilkins +was always doing things like that. It was even whispered last winter +when he went sleigh-riding with that fascinating little widow, Mrs. +Broughton, that he let her do the driving, clasped his own hands in +front of him, and talked of nothing but the privations of the +missionaries in China, and never mentioned oysters or cold birds and a +bottle.</p> + +<p>"And worst of all," snapped Mrs. Broughton, "he really seemed to enjoy +it. I never saw such a man!"</p> + +<p>I have mentioned all these details for the purpose of indicating how +unpopular Wilkins was and how it was that he had become so, for with +this knowledge the reader will share the surprise which we all felt when +Wilkins suddenly blossomed forth as the most popular man of Dumfries +Corners. It was really a knockdown blow to the most of us, for while we +may have been jealous on occasions of each other, it never occurred to +any of us to be jealous of the train-wrecker.</p> + +<p>I didn't like it when Araminta smiled upon Harry Burnham, but it was not +injurious to my self-respect that she should do it, because Harry +Burnham averages up as good a fellow as I am, and then Harry and I could +drown our differences in the flowing bowl later on. On the other hand, +if Harry's Fiametta cast side glances at me, of course Harry would be +wroth, but he could understand why Fiametta should be so affected by the +twinkle in my eye—an affection by the way which has often got me +unconsciously into trouble—that she should for the moment forget +herself and respond to it.</p> + +<p>But when Araminta and Fiametta on a sudden, just after the leap-year +dance, wholly, and, as we thought, basely, deserted us for that emblem +of conscious rectitude, Sam Wilkins, a man whose eye couldn't learn to +twinkle in a thousand years, a mere human iceberg, then it was that we +were astounded. Nor was this secession limited to Araminta and Fiametta. +The conversion of the girls of Dumfries Corners to Wilkins was as +complete, as comprehensive, as it was startling to the men. Jack Lester, +as Bob Jenks expressed it, was "trun down" by Daisy Hawkins, who +appeared to have eyes for none but Wilkins, while Bob, in turn, when +going to make his usual Thursday evening call upon Miss Betsy Wilson, +discovered that Miss Betsy had gone to the University extension lecture +with the train-wrecker, an act unprecedented, for it had long been the +custom for Bob to spend his Thursday evenings at the Wilson mansion, +and, while nothing had as yet been announced, everybody in town was +getting his congratulations ready for Bob as soon as that which was +understood became a matter of common knowledge.</p> + +<p>For a week or two we none of us let on that we had observed the +remarkable change that had come o'er the spirit of our dreams. Harry has +always been remarkable for his ability to conceal his feelings, and in +that respect I am a good second, and except for the fact that we spent +more time at the club playing pool nobody would have suspected that we +cared whether Araminta or Fiametta still loved us or not. Besides, we +each had a feeling that two could play at this Wilkins game, and I had +made up my mind that if Araminta could so easily find a substitute for +me I, with my twinkle, could as speedily replace her. That is to say, I +felt that I could create that impression in Araminta's mind, and that +was all I was after. I didn't really intend, however easy it would be +to do so, to create a flutter of a permanent nature in any other woman's +heart—that is, not until I was sure that Araminta was lost to me +forever. After a decent period of mourning I might have used my twinkle +for permanent effect, but at that moment my only idea was to show +Araminta that if one could be fickle, two could be twice as fickle. +Harry had the same course of treatment in store for Fiametta, and we +both made a strong bid for the company of Mary Brown, who, it must be +confessed, was a charming girl, and stood second in the affections of +every man in Dumfries Corners.</p> + +<p>It was the opportunity of Mary Brown's life, for even as Harry and I had +decided, so had all the other jilted swains, but that curious girl +either could not or would not grasp it. She, too, had become a +Wilkinsite, and would have nothing to do with any of us. She declined to +attend the Beldens's musicale with me, and went bicycling with the +iceberg. She told Robinson she hated lectures, and went to a +stereopticon show with the train-wrecker. All the other men met with a +similar rebuff, and at the last meeting of the Chafing Dish Club she +capped the climax by refusing my lobster à la Newburg and Harry's +oysters poulet, to have a second helping to the sole-leather welsh +rarebit which Wilkins had constructed; Wilkins, a rank outsider, who had +been asked to come to the meeting by every blessed girl in the club, +although heretofore he had not been considered as a possible member, and +in fact had been black-balled by the girls themselves! And when it came +time for the girls to go home, instead of each one being escorted by a +single male member, Wilkins corralled the whole lot of them in a huge +omnibus which he had hired, and drove off with them, leaving us +disconsolate. He smiled so broadly you could see his teeth in the dark.</p> + +<p>This, as I have said, capped the climax.</p> + +<p>"That settles it," said Burnham. "I'm going to New York for a rest. +These Dumfries Corners girls needn't think they're the only women in the +world. There are others."</p> + +<p>"I'm going to stay and stick it out," said I. "I've got my sister left. +She'll never succumb to the Wilkins influence."</p> + +<p>But alas! I leaned upon a broken reed. My sister is a sensible girl, +but she is "literary." She had a joke in <i>Life</i> once, and since that +time she has neglected almost everything but writing and her brother. +She doesn't neglect me, and altogether I'm glad she writes, since it +fills her with enthusiasm until the articles come back, and up to now +she had not written poetry. But, as I say, I leaned upon a broken reed, +for when, the next day, I asked her what she was writing, she laughed +and showed me a sonnet.</p> + +<p>"Poetry, eh?" I said, disapprovingly, as I looked over her manuscript.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she answered, modestly. "A sonnet."</p> + +<p>And I read, "To S.W."</p> + +<p>"Who's 'S.W.?'" I asked, with a frown, although I little suspected what +her answer would be.</p> + +<p>"Sam Wilkins," she replied.</p> + +<p>I then realized the full force of Caesar's "Et tu, Brute?" and fled.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Wilkins was becoming insufferable. If Bunthorne was an ass, he +was at least clever, but this Wilkins—he was a whole drove of asses, +and not a redeeming feature to the lot. He could no more account for +his sudden popularity than we could, but he could not help realizing it +after a week or two, and then, for the first time in his life, he began +to take notice. We men all wanted to thrash him, and I think Burnham +would have done it if the rest of us hadn't prevented him.</p> + +<p>"He needed a licking before this," said Harry, "but now he's worse than +ever. It isn't conscious rectitude now, it's triumphant virtue. He makes +me tired. He was telling me the other day that while girls might be +captivated by flippant, superficial, prancing dudes for a while, in the +end solid worth would win, and then he went on to say that the youth of +modern times cultivated his feet to the exclusion of his head, and that +while he had, of course, learned to dance, he had not devoted all his +time to it, and regarded it, after all, as a very minor sort of an +attraction as far as women are concerned. 'I don't rely on my dancing, +Burnham,' he said. 'It's the head, and the heart, my boy, that +triumphs.' And when I asked him where he learned all this he answered, +'from personal experience.'"</p> + +<p>I immediately let go of Burnham. "Go and half-lick him, Harry," said I. +"And when you've done with him pass him over to me, and I'll finish him. +The supercilious ass."</p> + +<p>That was the way Wilkins affected us.</p> + +<p>The other men took their dose in different ways. Jenks began to drink a +little more; Lester drank a little less. Hicks didn't care much about it +one way or the other, and Wilson swore that if Wilkins came to call on +his sister again he'd kick him out of the house.</p> + +<p>Six weeks rolled by thus, and finally Easter Sunday came. No mitigation +of the Wilkins visitation had entered into our lives. As the days wore +on the girls became more devoted to him than ever, and he became +correspondingly unbearable. The condescension with which he would treat +his fellow-men was something hardly to be tolerated, and the worst of it +was there didn't seem to be any way of bringing the girls to terms. +There wasn't anybody left for us to flirt with now that Mary Brown had +gone over to the enemy, she who had always been willing to flirt with +anybody.</p> + +<p>"There's only one hope," said Jenks. "If he'll only marry one of 'em, +the others will come back. He can't marry 'em all, thank Heaven."</p> + +<p>"Suppose it was Fiametta he married?" said I.</p> + +<p>"Or Araminta!" was his preposterous retort.</p> + +<p>"He'll never do that," said Lester. "He's in clover now, and for the +first time in his life, and the more of an ass he is the more he'll like +clover. He's paying attention to the lot. He'll never settle down to +one. It's all up with us—unless he bankrupts himself."</p> + +<p>"He won't," observed Harry Burnham. "Conscious rectitude won't do +anything like that. I'm going to New York to call on an old flame, and I +advise the rest of you to do the same."</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't know but what you are right," said I, "but Araminta shall +have one more chance. I'm going to church to-morrow. It's Easter Sunday, +and I'll offer to escort her home. If she says 'yes,' all right. If she +doesn't, I'm lost to her forever."</p> + +<p>"Good scheme," quoth the others. "We're with you."</p> + +<p>And that is what we all did. The girls were all there, resplendent in +new bonnets and toggery of other sorts, and the smirking Wilkins was +there too. He passed the plate after the sermon, and his rectitude shone +out oleaginously on every line of his face. It was as much as I could do +to keep from tripping him up in the aisle, and sending him and the +contribution-plate sprawling. I almost did it when I imagined his +feelings as the nickels rattled down through the register into the +furnace below, but I restrained myself—and the killing glances he threw +into those glass eyes of his, whenever he happened to hold the plate +before one of those Dumfries girls! It was sickening, and I came near to +flying before the close of the service. The others had the same +sensations and temptations, and it is a wonder that Wilkins did not meet +with some dreadful humiliation before he got the collection back into +the chancel. It was a terrible strain on us, and his horrid +unconsciousness that he was anything but perfect, and that the rest of +us were anything more than so many paving stones to be walked on, was +aggravating to a degree. Nothing unusual happened, however, and the +service came to an end, and with it came to us all another surprise, but +this time the surprise gave Wilkins a pain, and I had a front seat when +the blow was dealt.</p> + +<p>It had occurred to the immaculate rival of all the manhood of Dumfries +Corners that he would honor Araminta with his society on the way home +from church, and he and I reached her side after service at one and the +same moment.</p> + +<p>"May I have the pleasure of seeing you home?" said Wilkins, twirling his +mustache with a "resist me if you can" smile on his lips.</p> + +<p>"Don't let me interfere," said I, dryly, and was about to turn away.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Mr. Wilkins," replied Araminta, "but Mr. Smithers has +already asked me."</p> + +<p>It was a beautiful, lovely, sweet lie. I hadn't done anything of the +sort, but I'd meant to, of course, and perhaps Araminta had become a +mind reader. Wilkins got a little flushy around his cheek-bones, and +posted off to Fiametta, but she and Burnham were already en route and +apparently reconciled. So it went with all. Wilkins was left. Even my +sister, who, lacking Wilkins, would have to walk home with the +minister's wife, declined, and the fall of the great man was complete. +Mary Brown was the only one remaining in the field, and when he fled to +her she said she wasn't going home.</p> + +<p>"Well, then," said Wilkins, "let me take you to wherever you are going?"</p> + +<p>"Thank you," returned Miss Brown, "I'm not going there either," and she +joined Araminta and myself, much to our delight, for we have no secrets +from her. And then it all came out.</p> + +<p>The girls had not loved us less, or Wilkins more, but they had resolved +to keep Lent with unusual rigor this year.</p> + +<p><i>They had sworn us off and taken up Wilkins for penance</i>.</p> + +<p>Hard on Wilkins?</p> + +<p>Not a bit of it. He's as conscious of his rectitude and as unconscious +of his unpopularity as ever.</p> + +<p>Only he is a little more outspoken about women than he used to be, and +somehow or other he has let it creep out that he "doesn't find them +interesting."</p> + +<p>"They can't even learn to dance without tripping a fellow up," says he.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="THE_MAYOR'S_LAMPS"></a><h2>THE MAYOR'S LAMPS</h2> +<br /> + +<p>The serpent had crept into Eden. The Perkins household for ten years had +been little less than Paradise to its inmates, and then in a single +night the reptile of political ambition had dragged his slimy length +through those happy door-posts and now sat grinning indecently at the +inscription over the library mantel, a ribbon mosaic bearing the +sentiment "Here Dwells Content" let into the tiles thereof.</p> + +<p>How it ever happened no man knoweth, but happen it did. Thaddeus Perkins +was snatched from the arms of Peace and plunged headlong into the jaws +of Political Warfare.</p> + +<p>"They want me because they think I'm strong," he pleaded, in extenuation +of his acceptance of the nomination for Mayor of his town.</p> + +<p>"But you ought to know better," returned Mrs. Perkins, failing to +realize what possible misconstruction her lord and master might put +upon the answer. "The idea of your meddling in politics when you've got +twice as much work as you can do already! I think it's awful!"</p> + +<p>"I didn't seek it," he said, after hesitating a moment; +"they've—they've thrust it on me." Then he tried to be funny. "With me, +public office is a public thrust."</p> + +<p>"Is there any salary?" asked Mrs. Perkins, treating the jest with the +contempt it merited.</p> + +<p>"No," said Thaddeus. "Not a cent; but—"</p> + +<p>"Not a cent!" cried Mrs. Perkins. "And you are going to give up all your +career, or at least two years of it, and probably the best two years of +your life, for—"</p> + +<p>"Glory," said Thaddeus.</p> + +<p>"Glory! Humph," said Mrs. Perkins, "I am not aware that nations are +talking of previous Mayors of Dumfries Corners. Mr. Jiggers's name is +not a household word outside of this city, is it?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Jiggers was the gentleman, into whose shoes Thaddeus was seeking to +place his feet—the incumbent of the mighty office to which he aspired.</p> + +<p>"Who is the present Lord Mayor of London?" the lady continued.</p> + +<p>"Haven't the slightest idea," murmured the standard-bearer of the +Democratic party, hopelessly.</p> + +<p>"Or Berlin, or Peking—or even of Chicago?" she went on.</p> + +<p>"What has that got to do with it?" retorted the worm, turning a trifle.</p> + +<p>"You spoke of glory—the glory of being Mayor of Dumfries Corners, a +city of 30,000 inhabitants. This is going to send your name echoing from +sea to sea, reverberating through Europe, and thundering down through +the ages to come; and yet you admit that the glories of the Mayors of +London with 4,000,000 souls, of Berlin, Chicago, and Peking, with +millions more, are so slight that you can't remember their names—or +even to have heard them, for that matter. Really, Thaddeus, I am +surprised at you. What you expect to get out of this besides nervous +prostration I must confess I cannot see."</p> + +<p>"Lamps," said Thaddeus, clutching like a drowning man at the one +emolument of the coveted office.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Perkins gazed at her husband anxiously. The answer was so +unexpected and seemingly so absurd that she for a moment feared he had +lost his mind. The notion that two years' service in so important an +office as that of Mayor of Dumfries Corners received as its sole reward +nothing but lamps was to her mind impossible.</p> + +<p>"Is—is there anything the matter with you, dear?" she asked, placing +her hand on his brow. "You don't seem feverish."</p> + +<p>"Feverish?" snapped the leader of his party. "Who said anything about my +being feverish?"</p> + +<p>"Nobody, Teddy dear; but what you said about lamps made me think—made +me think your mind was wandering a trifle."</p> + +<p>"Oh—that!" laughed Perkins. "No, indeed—it's true. They always give +the Mayor a pair of lamps. Some of them are very swell, too. You know +those wrought-iron standards that Mr. Berkeley has in front of his +place?"</p> + +<p>"The ones at the driveway entrance, on the bowlders?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"They're beauties. I've always admired those lamps very much."</p> + +<p>"Well—they are the rewards of Mr. Berkeley's political virtue. I paid +for them, and so did all the rest of the tax-payers. They are his +Mayor's lamps, and if I'm elected I'll have a pair just like them, if I +want them like that."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I do hope you'll get in, Teddy," said the little woman, anxiously, +after a reflective pause. "They'd look stunning on our gate-posts."</p> + +<p>"I don't think I shall have them there," said Thaddeus. "Jiggers has the +right idea, seems to me—he's put 'em on the newel-posts of his front +porch steps."</p> + +<p>"I don't suppose they'd give us the money and let us buy one handsome +cloisonné lamp from Tiffany's, would they?" Mrs. Perkins asked.</p> + +<p>"A cloisonné lamp on a gate-post?" laughed Perkins.</p> + +<p>"Of course not," rejoined the lady. "You know I didn't mean any such +thing. I saw a perfectly beautiful lamp in Tiffany's last Wednesday, and +it would go so well in the parlor—"</p> + +<p>"That wouldn't be possible, my dear," said Thaddeus, still smiling. +"You don't quite catch the idea of those lamps. They're sort of like the +red, white, and blue lights in a drug-store window in intention. They +are put up to show the public that that is where a political +prescription for the body politic may be compounded. The public is +responsible for the bills, and the public expects to use what little +light can be extracted from them."</p> + +<p>"Then all this generosity on the public's part is—"</p> + +<p>"Merely that of the Indian who gives and takes back," said Thaddeus.</p> + +<p>"And they must be out-of-doors?" asked Mrs. Perkins. "If I set the +cloisonné lamp in the window, it wouldn't do?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Thaddeus. "They must be out-of-doors."</p> + +<p>"Well, I hope the nasty old public will stay there too, and not come +traipsing all over my house," snapped Mrs. Perkins, indignantly.</p> + +<p>And then for a little time the discussion of the Mayor's lamps stopped.</p> + +<p>The campaign went on, and Thaddeus night after night was forced to go +out to speak here and there and everywhere. One night he travelled five +miles through mud and rain to address an organization of tax-payers, and +found them assembled before the long mahogany counter of a beer-saloon, +which was the "Hall" they had secured for the reception of the idol of +their hopes; and among them it is safe to say there was not one who ever +saw a tax-bill, and not many who knew more about those luxuries of life +than the delicious flunky, immortalized by Mr. Punch, who says to a +brother flunky, "I say, Tummas, wot is taxes?" And he told them his +principles and promised to do his best for them, and bade them +good-night, and went away leaving them parched and dry and downcast. And +then the other fellow came, and won their hearts and "set them up +again." Another night he attended another meeting and lost a number of +friends because he shone at both ends but not in the middle. If he had +taken a glittering coin or two from his vest-pocket on behalf of the +noble working-men there assembled in great numbers and spirituous mood, +they would have forgiven him his wit and patent-leather shoes—and so +it went. Perkins was nightly hauled hither and yon by the man he called +his "Hagenbeck," the manager of the wild animal he felt himself +gradually degenerating into, and his wife and home and children saw less +of him than of the unimportant floating voter whose mind was open to +conviction, but could be reached only by way of the throat.</p> + +<p>"Two o'clock last night; one o'clock the night before; I suppose it'll +be three before you are in to-night?" Mrs. Perkins said, ruefully.</p> + +<p>"I do not know, my dear," replied Thaddeus. "There are five meetings on +for to-night."</p> + +<p>"Well, I think they ought to give you the lamps now," said Mrs. Perkins. +"It seems to me this is when you need them most."</p> + +<p>"True," said Thaddeus, sadly, for in his secret soul he was beginning to +be afraid he would be elected; and now that he saw what kind of people +Mayors have to associate with, the glory of it did not seem to be worth +the cost. "I'm a sort of Night-Mayor just at present, and those lamps +would come in handy in the wee sma' hours," he groaned. And then he +sighed and pined for the peaceful days of yore when he was content to +walk his ways with no nation upon his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"I never envied Atlas anyhow," he confided to himself later, as he +tossed about upon his bed and called himself names. "It always seemed to +me that this revolving globe must rub the skin off his neck and back; +but now, poor devil, with just one municipality hanging over me, I can +appreciate more than ever the difficulties of his position—except that +he doesn't have to make speeches to 'tax-payers.' Humph! Taxpayers! It's +tax-makers. If I'd promised to go into all sorts of wilderness +improvement for the sole and only purpose of putting these 'tax-payers' +on the corporation at the expense of real laboring-men, I'd win in a +canter."</p> + +<p>"What is the matter, Thaddeus?" said Mrs. Perkins, coming in from the +other room. "Can't you sleep?"</p> + +<p>"Don't want to sleep, my dear," returned the candidate. "When I go to +sleep I dream I'm addressing mass-meetings. I, can't enjoy my rest +unless I stay awake. Did your mother come to-day?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—and, oh, she's so enthusiastic, Teddy!"</p> + +<p>"At last! About me? You don't mean it."</p> + +<p>"No—about the lamps. She says lamps are just what we need to complete +the entrance. She thinks Mr. Berkeley's scheme of putting them on the +stone posts is the best. There's more dignity about it. Putting them on +the piazza steps, she says, looks ostentatious, and suggests a +beer-saloon or a road-house."</p> + +<p>"Well, my dear, that's about all politics seems to amount to," said the +reformer. "If those lamps are to be a souvenir of the campaign, they +ought to suggest road-houses and beer-saloons."</p> + +<p>"They will not be souvenirs of a campaign," replied Mrs. Perkins, +proudly. "They will be the outward and visible sign of my husband's +merit; the emblem of victory."</p> + +<p>"The red badge of triumph, eh?" smiled the candidate, wanly. "Well, my +dear, have them where you please, and keep them well filled with +alcohol, even if they do burn gas. They'll represent the tax-payers +when they get that."</p> + +<p>"You musn't get so tired, Thaddeus dear," said the little woman, +smoothing his forehead soothingly with her hand. "You seem unusually +tired to-night."</p> + +<p>"I am," said Thaddeus, shortly. "The debate wore me out."</p> + +<p>"Did you debate? I thought you said you wouldn't."</p> + +<p>"Well, I did. Everybody said I was afraid to meet Captain Haskins on the +platform, so we had it out to-night over in the Tenth Ward. I talked for +sixty-eight minutes, gave 'em my views, and then he got up."</p> + +<p>"What did he say. Could he answer you?"</p> + +<p>"No—but he won the day. All he said was: 'Well, boys, I'm not much of a +talker, but I'll say one thing—Perkins, while my adversary, is still my +friend, and I'm proud of him. Now, if you'll all join me at the bar, +we'll drink his health—on me.'" Thaddeus paused, and then he added: "I +imagine they're cheering yet; at any rate, if I have as much health as +they drink—on Haskins—I'll double discount old Methuselah in the +matter of years."</p> + +<p>The next morning at breakfast the pale and nervous standard-bearer was +affectionately greeted by his mother-in-law.</p> + +<p>"I've been thinking about those lamps all night," she said, after a few +minutes. "The trouble about the gate-posts is that you have three +gate-posts and only two lamps."</p> + +<p>"Maybe they'd let us buy three lamps instead of two," suggested Mrs. +Perkins.</p> + +<p>"Well, we won't, even if they do let us," observed Perkins, with some +irritation. He had just received a newspaper from a kind friend in +Massachusetts with a comic biography and dissipated wood-cut of himself +in it. "I'm not starting a concert-hall, and I'm not going to put a row +of lamps along the front of my place."</p> + +<p>"I quite agree with you," replied his mother-in-law. "It occurred to me +we might put them, like hanging lanterns, on each of the chimneys. It +would be odd."</p> + +<p>Thaddeus muttered two syllables to himself, the latter of which sounded +like M'dodd, but exactly what it was he said I can only guess. Then he +added: "They won't go there. I can't get a gas-pipe up through those +chimneys. It's as much as we can do to get the smoke up, much less a +gas-pipe. Even if we got the gas-pipe through, it wouldn't do. A +putty-blower would choke up the flues."</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't know," said the mother-in-law, placidly. "It seems to +me—"</p> + +<p>A glance from Mrs. Perkins stopped the dear old lady. I think Mrs. +Perkins's sympathetic disposition taught her that her husband was having +a hard time being agreeable, and that further discussion of the lamp +question was likely to prove disastrous.</p> + +<p>Thaddeus was soon called for by his manager, and started out to meet the +leading lights of the Hungarian and Italian quarters. The Germans had +been made solid the day before, and as for the Irish, they were supposed +to be with Perkins on principle, because Perkins was not in accord +politically with the existing administration.</p> + +<p>"It's too bad he's so nervous," said his mother-in-law, as he went out.</p> + +<p>"They say women are nervous, but I must say I don't think much of the +endurance of men. How absurd he was when he spoke of the gas-pipe +through the chimney!"</p> + +<p>"Well, I suppose, my dear mother," said Mrs. Perkins, sadly—"I suppose +he can't be bothered with little details like the lamps now. There are +other questions to be considered."</p> + +<p>"What is the exact issue?" asked the mother-in-law, interestedly.</p> + +<p>"Well—the tariff, and—ah—and taxes, and—ah—money, and—ah—ah—I +think the saloon question enters in somehow. I believe Mr. Haskins wants +more of them, and Thaddeus says there are too many of them as it is. And +now they are both investigating them, I fancy, because Teddy was in one +the other day."</p> + +<p>"We ought to help him a little," said the elder woman. "Let's just +relieve him of the whole lamp question; decide where to put them, go to +New York and pick them out, get estimates for the laying of the pipes, +and surprise him by having them all ready to put up the day after +election."</p> + +<p>"Wouldn't it be fun!" cried Mrs. Perkins, delightedly. "He'll be so +surprised—poor dear boy. I'll do it. I'll send down this morning for +Mr. O'Hara to come up here and see how we can make the connection and +where the trenches for the pipes can be laid. Mr. O'Hara is the +best-known contractor in town, and I guess he's the man we want."</p> + +<p>And immediately O'Hara was telephoned for to come up to Mr. Perkins's, +and the fair conspirators were not aware of, and probably will never +realize, the importance politically of that act. Mr. O'Hara refused to +come, but it was hinted about that Perkins had summoned him, and there +was great joy among the rank and file, and woe among the better +elements, for O'Hara was a boss, and a boss whose power was one of the +things Thaddeus was trying to break, and the cohorts fancied that the +apostle of purity had realized that without O'Hara reform was fallen +into the pit. Furthermore, as cities of the third class, like Dumfries +Corners, live conversationally on rumors and gossipings, it was not an +hour before almost all Dumfries Corners, except Thaddeus Perkins himself +and his manager, knew that the idol had bowed before the boss's hat, +and that the boss had returned the grand message that he'd see Perkins +in the Hudson River before he'd go to his damned mugwump temple; and in +two hours they also knew it, for they heard in no uncertain terms from +the secretary of the Municipal Club, a reform organization, which had +been instrumental in securing Perkins's nomination, who demanded to know +in an explicit yes or no as to whether any such message had been sent. +The denial was made, and then the lie was given; and many to this day +wonder exactly where the truth lay. At any rate, votes were lost and few +gained, and many a worthy friend of good government lost heart and +bemoaned the degeneration of the gentleman into the politician.</p> + +<p>Perkins, worn out, irritated by, if not angry at, what he termed the +underhanded lying of the opposition, drove home for luncheon, and found +his wife and her mother in a state of high dudgeon. They had been +insulted.</p> + +<p>"It was frightful the language that man used, Thaddeus," said Mrs. +Perkins.</p> + +<p>"He wouldn't have dared do it except by telephone," put in the +mother-in-law, whose notions were somewhat old-fashioned. "I've always +hated that machine. People can lie to you and you can't look 'em in the +eye over it, and they can say things to your face with absolute +opportunity."</p> + +<p>The dear old lady meant impunity, but it must be remembered that she was +excited.</p> + +<p>"Well, I think he ought to be chastised," said Mrs. Perkins.</p> + +<p>"Who? What are you talking about?" demanded Thaddeus.</p> + +<p>"That nasty O'Hara man," said Mrs. Perkins. "He said 'he'd be damned' +over the wire."</p> + +<p>Thaddeus immediately became energetic. "He didn't blackguard you, did +he?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"Yes, he did," said Mrs. Perkins, the water in her eyes affecting her +voice so that it became mellifluous instead of merely melodious.</p> + +<p>"But how?" persisted Perkins.</p> + +<p>"Well—we—we—rang him up—it was only as a surprise, you know, +dear—we rang him up—"</p> + +<p>"You—you rang up—O'Hara?" cried Perkins, aghast. "It must have been a +surprise."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Teddy. We were going to settle the lamp question; we thought you +were bothered enough with—well, with affairs of state—"</p> + +<p>The candidate drew up proudly, but immediately became limp again as he +realized the situation.</p> + +<p>"And," Mrs. Perkins continued, "we thought we'd relieve you of the lamp +question; and as Mr. O'Hara is a great contractor—the most noted in all +Dumfries Corners—isn't he?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, yes! he is!" said Perkins, furiously; "but what of that?"</p> + +<p>"Well, that's why we rang him up," said Mrs. Perkins, with a sigh of +relief to find that she had selected the right man. "We wanted Mr. +O'Hara to dig the trench for the pipes, and lay the pipes—"</p> + +<p>"He's a great pipe-layer!" ejaculated Perkins.</p> + +<p>"Exactly," rejoined Mrs. Perkins, solemnly. "We'd heard that, and so we +asked him to come up."</p> + +<p>"But, my dear," cried Perkins, dismayed, "you didn't tell him you +wanted him to put up my lamps? I'm not elected yet."</p> + +<p>The agony of the moment for Perkins can be better imagined than +portrayed.</p> + +<p>"He didn't give us the chance," said the mother-in-law. "He merely +swore."</p> + +<p>Perkins drew a sigh of relief. He understood it all now, and in spite of +the position in which he was placed he was glad. "Jove!" he said to +himself, "it was a narrow escape. Suppose O'Hara had come! He'd have +enjoyed laying pipes for a Mayor's lamps for me—two weeks before +election."</p> + +<p>And for the first time in weeks Perkins was faintly mirthful. The +narrowness of his escape had made him hysterical, and he actually +indulged in the luxury of a nervous laugh.</p> + +<p>"That accounts for the rumor," he said to himself, and then his heart +grew heavy again. "The rumor is true, and—Oh, well, this is what I get +for dabbling in politics. If I ever get out of this alive, I vow by all +the gods politics shall know me no more."</p> + +<p>"It was all right—my asking O'Hara, Thaddeus?" asked Mrs. Perkins.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, certainly, my dear—perfectly right. O'Hara is indeed, as you +thought, the most noted, not to say notorious, contractor in town, only +he's not laying pipes just now. He's pulling wires."</p> + +<p>"For telephones, I presume?" said the old lady, placidly.</p> + +<p>"Well, in a way," replied Thaddeus. "There's a great deal of vocality +about O'Hara's wires. But, Bess," he added, seriously, "just drop the +lamps until we get 'em, and confine your telephoning to your intimate +friends. An Irishman on a telephone in political times is apt to be a +trifle—er—artless in his choice of words. If you must talk to one of +'em, remember to put in the lightning plug before you begin."</p> + +<p>With which injunction the candidate departed to address the Mohawks, an +independent political organization in the Second Ward, which was made up +of thinking men who never indorsed a candidate without knowing why, and +rarely before three o'clock of the afternoon of election day at that, by +whom he was received with cheers and back-slapping and button-holings +which convinced him that he was the most popular man on earth, though +on election day—but election day has yet to be described. It came, and +with it there came to Perkins a feeling very much like that which the +small boy experiences on the day before Christmas. He has been good for +two months, and he knows that to-morrow the period of probation will be +over and he can be as bad as he pleases again for a little while anyhow.</p> + +<p>"However it turns out, I can tell 'em all to go to the devil to-morrow," +chuckled Thaddeus, rubbing his hands gleefully.</p> + +<p>"I don't think you ought to forget the lamps, Thaddeus," observed the +mother-in-law at breakfast. "Here it is election day and you haven't yet +decided where they shall go. Now I really think—"</p> + +<p>"Never mind the lamps," returned Thaddeus. "Let's talk of ballot-boxes +to-day. To-morrow we can place the lamps."</p> + +<p>"Very well, if you say so," said the old lady; "only I marvel at you +latter-day boys. In my young days a small matter like that would have +been settled long ago."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll compromise with you," said</p> + +<p>Thaddeus. "We won't wait until to-morrow. I'll decide the question +to-night—I'm really too busy now to think of them."</p> + +<p>"I shall be glad when we don't have to think about 'em at all," sighed +Mrs. Perkins, pouring out the candidate's coffee. "They've really been a +care to me. I don't like the idea of putting them on the porch, or on +the gate-posts either. They'll have to be kept clean, and goodness knows +I can't ask the girls to go out in the middle of winter to clean them if +they are on the gate-posts."</p> + +<p>"Mike will clean them," said Thaddeus.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Perkins sniffed when Mike's name was mentioned. "I doubt it," she +said. "He's been lots of good for two weeks."</p> + +<p>"Mike has been lots of good for two weeks," echoed Thaddeus, +enthusiastically. "He's kept all the hired men in line, my dear."</p> + +<p>"I've no doubt he's been of use politically, but from a domestic point +of view he's been awful. He's been drunk for the last week."</p> + +<p>"Well, my love," said the candidate, despairingly, "some member of the +family had to be drunk for the last week, and I'd rather it was Mike +than you or any of the children. Mike's geniality has shed a radiance +about me among the hired men of this town that fills me with pride."</p> + +<p>"I don't see, to go back to what I said in the very beginning, why we +can't have the lamps in-doors," returned Mrs. Perkins.</p> + +<p>"I told you why not, my dear," said Perkins. "They are the perquisite of +the Mayor, but for the benefit of the public, because the public pays +for them."</p> + +<p>"And hasn't the public, as you call it, taken possession of the inside +of your house?" demanded the mother-in-law. "I found seven gentlemen +sitting in the white and gold parlor only last night, and they hadn't +wiped their feet either."</p> + +<p>"You don't understand," faltered the standard-bearer. "That business +isn't, permanent. To-morrow I'll tell them to go round to the back door +and ask the cook."</p> + +<p>"Humph!" said the mother-in-law. "I'm surprised at you. For a few paltry +votes you—"</p> + +<p>Just here the front door bell rang, and the business of the day +beginning stopped the conversation, which bade fair to become +unpleasant.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Night came. The votes were being counted, and at six o'clock Perkins was +informed that everything was going his way.</p> + +<p>"Get your place ready for a brass band and a serenade," his manager +telephoned.</p> + +<p>"I sha'n't!" ejaculated the candidate to himself, his old-time +independence asserting itself now that the polls were closed—and he was +right. He didn't have to. The band did not play in his front yard, for +at eight o'clock the tide that had set in strong for Perkins turned. At +ten, according to votes that had been counted, things were about even, +and the ladies retired. At twelve Perkins turned out the gas.</p> + +<p>"That settles the lamp question, anyhow," he whispered to himself as he +went up-stairs, and then he went into Mrs. Perkins's room.</p> + +<p>"Well, Bess," he said, "it's all over, and I've made up my mind as to +where the lamps are to go."</p> + +<p>"Good!" said the little woman. "On the gate-posts?"</p> + +<p>"No, dear. In the parlor—the cloisonné lamps from Tiffany's."</p> + +<p>"Why, I thought you said we couldn't—"</p> + +<p>"Well, we can. Our lamps can go in there whether the public likes it or +not. We are emancipated."</p> + +<p>"But I don't understand," began Mrs. Perkins.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's simple," said Thaddeus, with a sigh of mingled relief and +chagrin. "It's simple enough. The other lamps are to be put—er—on +Captain Haskins's place."</p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="THE_BALANCE_OF_POWER"></a><h2>THE BALANCE OF POWER</h2> +<br /> + +<p>It was a pleasant night in the spring of 189-.</p> + +<p>The residents of Dumfries Corners were enjoying an early spring, and +suffering from the demoralizing influences of a municipal election. +Incidentally Mr. Thaddeus Perkins, candidate, was beginning to feel very +much like Moses when he saw the promised land afar. The promised land +was now in plain sight; but whether or not the name of Perkins should be +inscribed in one of its high places depended upon the voters who on the +morrow were to let their ballots express their choice as to who should +preside over the interests of the city and hold in check the fiery, +untamed aldermen of Dumfries Corners.</p> + +<p>The candidate was tired, very tired, and was trying to gain a few hours' +rest before plunging again and for the last time into the whirlpool of +vote-getting; and as he sat enjoying a few moments of blissful ease +behind the close-drawn portieres of his library there came the +much-dreaded sound of heavy feet upon the porch without, and the +door-bell rang.</p> + +<p>"Norah!" cried the candidate, in an agonized stage-whisper, as the maid +approached in answer to the summons, "tell them I'm out, unless it's +some one of my personal friends."</p> + +<p>"Yis, sorr," was the answer. "Oi will."</p> + +<p>And the door was opened.</p> + +<p>"Is Misther Perkins in?" came a deep, unmistakably "voting" voice from +without.</p> + +<p>"Oi dun'no'. Are yees a personal friend of Misther Perkins?" was the +response, and the heart of the listening Perkins sought his boots.</p> + +<p>"Oi am not, but—" said the deep voice.</p> + +<p>"Thin he isn't in," said Norah, positively.</p> + +<p>"When 'll he be back?" asked the visitor, huskily.</p> + +<p>"Ye say ye niver met him?" demanded Norah.</p> + +<p>"Oi told ye oi hadn't," said the visitor, a trifle irritably. "But—"</p> + +<p>"Thin he'll niver be back," put in the glorious Norah, and she shut the +door with considerable force and retired.</p> + +<p>For a moment the candidate was overcome; first he paled, but then +catching Mrs. Perkins's eye and noting a twinkle of amusement therein, +he yielded to his emotions and roared with laughter. What if Norah's +manner was unconventional? Had she not carried out instructions?</p> + +<p>"My dear," said the candidate to Mrs. Perkins, as the shuffling feet on +the porch shuffled off into the night, "what wages do you pay Norah?"</p> + +<p>"Sixteen dollars, Thaddeus," was the answer. "Why?"</p> + +<p>"Make it twenty hereafter," replied the candidate. "She is an emerald +beyond price. If I had only let her meet the nominating committee when +they entered our little Eden three weeks ago, I should not now be +involved in this wretched game of politics."</p> + +<p>"Well, I sincerely wish you had," Mrs. Perkins observed, heartily. "This +affair has made a very different man of you, and as for your family, +they hardly see you any more. You are neglecting every single household +duty for your horrid old politics."</p> + +<p>"Well, now, my dear—" began the candidate.</p> + +<p>"The pipes in the laundry have been leaking for four days now, and yet +you won't send for a plumber, or even let me send for one," continued +Mrs. Perkins.</p> + +<p>"Well, Bessie dear, how can I? The race is awfully close. It wouldn't +surprise me if the majority either way was less than a hundred."</p> + +<p>"There you go again, Thaddeus. What on earth has the leak in the laundry +pipes to do with the political situation?" asked the puzzled woman.</p> + +<p>The candidate showed that in spite of his recent affiliations he still +retained some remnant of his former self-respect, for he blushed as he +thought of the explanation; but he tried nevertheless to shuffle out of +it.</p> + +<p>"Of course you can't understand," he said, with a cowardly resolve to +shirk the issue. "That's because you are a woman, Bess. Women don't +understand great political questions. And what I have particularly +liked about you is that you never pretended that you did."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'd like to know," persisted Mrs. Perkins. "I want to be of as +much assistance to my husband in his work as I can, and if public +questions are hereafter to be the problems of your life, they must +become my problems too. Besides, my curiosity is really aroused in this +especial case, and I'd love to know what bearing our calling a plumber +has upon the tariff, or the money question, or any other thing in +politics."</p> + +<p>The candidate hesitated. He was cornered, and he did not exactly like +the prospect.</p> + +<p>"Well—" he began. "You see, I'm standing as the representative of a +great party, and we—we naturally wish to win. If I am defeated, every +one will say that it is a rebuke to the administration at Washington; +and so, you see, we'd better let those leaks leak until day after +to-morrow, when the voting will all be over."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Perkins looked at her husband narrowly.</p> + +<p>"I think I'll have to call the doctor," was her comment. "Either for you +or for myself, Teddy. One of us is gone—wholly gone, mentally. There's +no question about it, either you are rambling in your speech, or I have +entirely lost all comprehension of the English language."</p> + +<p>"I don't see—" began Perkins.</p> + +<p>"Neither do I," interrupted Mrs. Perkins; "and I hardly hope to. You've +explained and explained, but how a plumber's calling here to fix a +laundry leak is to rebuke the administration at Washington is still far +beyond me."</p> + +<p>"But the plumbers are said to hold the balance of power!" cried the +candidate. "There are a hundred of them here in Dumfries Corners, and +each one controls at least five assistants, which makes six hundred +voters in all. If I call in one, he and his five workers will vote for +me, but the other five hundred and ninety-four will vote for Haskins; +and if they do, the administration might as well go out of business. +Can't you see? It's the same with the dandelions. These spring elections +are perfect—ah—Gehenna for a candidate if it happens to be an early +spring like this."</p> + +<p>Perkins's voice had the suggestion of a wail in it as he spoke of the +dandelions, and his wife's alarm grew upon her. She understood now +about the plumber, but his interjection of the dandelions had brought a +fearful doubt into her heart. Surely he was losing his mind.</p> + +<p>"Dandelions, Thaddeus?" she echoed, aghast.</p> + +<p>"Yes, dandelions," retorted the candidate, forcibly. "They've queered me +as much as anything. The neighbors say I'm not a good neighbor because I +don't have them pulled. Mike's been so thoroughly alcoholic all through +the fight, looking after my interests, that he can't pull them; and if I +hire two men to come and do the work, seven hundred other men will want +to know why they didn't get a chance."</p> + +<p>"But why not employ boys?" demanded Mrs. Perkins.</p> + +<p>"And be set down as an advocate of cheap child labor? Not I!" cried +Perkins.</p> + +<p>"Then the dandelion-pullers are another balance of power, are they?" +asked Mrs. Perkins, beginning to grow somewhat easier in her mind as to +her husband's sanity.</p> + +<p>"Precisely; you have a very remarkable gift of insight, Bess," answered +the candidate.</p> + +<p>"And how many balances of power are there?" demanded the lady.</p> + +<p>"The Lord only knows," sighed Perkins. "I've made about eighty of 'em +solid already, but as soon as one balance is fixed a thousand others +rise up like Banquo's ghost, and will not down. I haven't a doubt that +it was a balance of power that Norah just turned away from the front +door. They strike you everywhere. Why, even Bobbie ruined me with one of +them in the Eighth Ward the other day—one solidified balance wiped out +in a moment by my interesting son."</p> + +<p>"Bobbie?" cried Mrs. Perkins. "A six-year-old boy?"</p> + +<p>"Exactly—Bobbie, the six-year-old boy. I wish you'd keep the children +in the house until this infernal business is over. The Eighth Ward would +have elected me; but Bobbie ruined that," said Perkins, ruefully.</p> + +<p>"But how?" cried Mrs. Perkins. "Have our children been out making +campaign speeches for the other side?"</p> + +<p>"They have," assented Perkins. "They have indeed. You remember that man +Jorrigan?"</p> + +<p>"The striker?" queried Mrs. Perkins, calling to mind a burly combination +of red hair and bad manners who had made himself very conspicuous of +late.</p> + +<p>"Precisely. That's just the point," retorted Perkins. "The striker. +That's what he is, and it's what you call him."</p> + +<p>"But you said he was a striker at breakfast last Wednesday," said Mrs. +Perkins. "We simply take your word for it."</p> + +<p>"I know I did. He's also a balance of power, my dear. Jorrigan controls +the Eighth Ward. That's the only reason I've let him in the house," said +Thaddeus.</p> + +<p>"You've been very chummy with him, I must say," sniffed Mrs. Perkins.</p> + +<p>"Well, I've had to be," said the candidate. "That man is a power, and he +knows it."</p> + +<p>"What's his business?" asked Mrs. Perkins.</p> + +<p>"Interference between capital and labor," replied Perkins. "So I've +cultivated him."</p> + +<p>"He never struck me as being a very cultivated person," smiled Mrs. +Perkins. "He has a suggestion of alcohol about him that is very +oppressive."</p> + +<p>"I know—he has a very intoxicating presence," said the candidate, +joining in the smile. "But we are rid of his presence now and forever, +thanks to Bobbie. I got the news last night. He and his followers have +declared for Haskins, in spite of all his promises to me, and we can +attribute our personal good fortune and our political loss to Bobbie. +Bobbie met him on the street the other day."</p> + +<p>"I know he did," said Mrs. Perkins. "He told me so, and he said that the +horrid man wanted to kiss him."</p> + +<p>"It's true," said Perkins. "He did, and Bobbie wouldn't let him."</p> + +<p>"Well, a man isn't going back on you because he can't kiss your whole +family, is he?" asked Mrs. Perkins, apprehensively. "If that's the +situation, I shall go to New York to-morrow."</p> + +<p>Perkins laughed heartily. "No, my dear," he said. "You are safe enough +from that. But Jorrigan, when Bobbie refused, said,' Well, young feller, +I guess you don't know who I am?' 'Yes, I do,' said Bobbie. 'You are +Mr. Jorrigan,' and Jorrigan was overjoyed; but Bobbie destroyed his good +work by adding, 'Jorrigan the striker,' and the striker's joy vanished. +'Who told you that?' said he. 'Pop—and he knows,' said Bobbie. That +night," continued Perkins, with a droll expression of mingled mirth and +annoyance, "the amalgamated mortar-mixers of the Eighth Ward decided +that consideration for the country's welfare should rise above partisan +politics, and that when it came to real statesmanship Haskins could give +me points. A ward wiped out in a night, and another highly interesting, +very thirsty balance of power gone over to the other side."</p> + +<p>"I should think you'd give up, then," said Mrs. Perkins, despairfully. +She wanted her husband to win—not because she had any ambition to shine +as "Lady-Mayor," but because she did not wish Thaddeus to incur +disappointment or undergo the chagrin of a public rebuke. "You seem to +be losing balances of power right and left."</p> + +<p>"Why should I give it up?" queried Perkins. "You don't suppose I am +having any better luck than Mr. Haskins, do you?"</p> + +<p>"Is he losing them too?" asked Mrs. Perkins, hopefully.</p> + +<p>"I judge so from what he tells me," said Perkins. "We took dinner +together at the Centurion in New York the other night, and he's a prince +of good fellows, Bess. He has just as much trouble as I have, and when I +met him on the train the other day he was as blue as I about the +future."</p> + +<p>"You and the captain dining together?" ejaculated Mrs. Perkins.</p> + +<p>"Certainly," said Perkins. "Why not? Our hatred is merely political, and +we can meet on a level of good-fellowship anywhere outside of Dumfries +Corners."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Perkins laughed outright. "Isn't it funny!" she said.</p> + +<p>"Why, Haskins is one of my best friends, generally," continued Perkins. +"I don't see anything funny about it. Just because we both happen to be +dragged into politics on opposite sides at the same moment is no reason +why we should begin cutting each other's throats, my dear. In fact, with +balances of power springing up all over town like mushrooms, we have +become companions in misery."</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't see why you can't get together, then, and tell these +balances to go to—to grass," suggested Mrs. Perkins.</p> + +<p>"Grass is too mild, my love," remarked the candidate, smiling quietly. +"They wouldn't go there, even if we told them to, so it would be simply +a waste of breath. We've got to grin and bear them until the polls +close, and then we can pitch in and tell 'em what we think of them."</p> + +<p>"Just the same," continued Mrs. Perkins, "an agreement between Mr. +Haskins and you to ignore these people utterly, instead of taking them +into your family, would stop the whole abuse."</p> + +<p>"That's a woman's idea," said Perkins, bravely, though in the innermost +recesses of his heart he wished he had thought of it before. "It isn't +practical politics, my love. You might as well say that two opposing +generals in a war could save thousands of lives by avoiding each other's +armies and keeping out of a fight."</p> + +<p>"Well, I do say that," replied Mrs.</p> + +<p>Perkins, positively. "That's exactly my view of what generals ought to +do."</p> + +<p>"And what would become of the war?" queried the candidate.</p> + +<p>"There wouldn't be any," said the good little woman.</p> + +<p>"Precisely," retorted Perkins. "Precisely. And if Haskins and I did what +you want us to do, there would be no more politics."</p> + +<p>"Well, what of it?" demanded Mrs. Perkins. "Are politics the salvation +of the country? It's as bad as war."</p> + +<p>"Humph!" grunted Perkins. "It is difficult to please women. You hate war +because, to settle a question of right, people go out into the field of +battle and mow each other down with guns; you cry for arbitration. Let +all questions, all differences of opinion, be settled by a resort to +reason, say you—which is beautiful, and undoubtedly proper. But when we +try to settle our differences by a bloodless warfare, in which the +ballot is one's ammunition, you cry down with politics. A political +contest is nothing but a bit of supreme arbitration, for which you peace +people are always clamoring, by the court of last resort, the people."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Perkins smiled sweetly, and taking her husband's hand in hers, +stroked it softly.</p> + +<p>"Teddy dear, you mustn't be so politic with me," she said; "I'm not a +campaign club. I know that sentiment you have just expressed is lofty +and noble, and ought to be true, and I know we used to think it was +true—three weeks ago I believed it when you said it; but this is now, +dear. This is to-night, not three weeks ago, and I have changed my +mind."</p> + +<p>"Well," began the candidate, hesitatingly, "I don't know but that I am +weakening a trifle myself."</p> + +<p>"I know," interposed Mrs. Perkins, "you are weakening. You know as well +as I do that the hard work you are doing is not in appealing to the +reason of the supreme court of arbitration, the people. You are +appealing, as you have said, yourself, to a large and interesting +variety of balances of power, that do not want your views or your +opinions or your arguments, but they do want your money to buy cigars +and beer with. They want you to buy their good-will; and even if you +bought it, I doubt if they would concede to you a controlling interest +in it if Mr. Haskins should happen to want some of it, and I don't doubt +he does."</p> + +<p>"You don't know anything—" the candidate ventured.</p> + +<p>"Yes I do, too," returned Mrs. Perkins, with the self-satisfied nod +which the average new woman gives when she thinks she is right, though +Mrs. Perkins had no pretensions in that direction, happily for her +family. "I know all that you have told me. I know that when you were to +dine at Colonel Buckley's on Wednesday night you wore your evening +dress, and that when leaving there early to go to the city and address +the Mohawk Independent Club you asked your manager if you could go +dressed as you were, and his answer was, 'Not on your life,' and you +went home and put on your business suit. You told me that yourself, and +yet you talk about the supreme court of arbitration, the people!"</p> + +<p>"But, Bess, the Mohawks are a powerful organization," pleaded Perkins. +"I couldn't afford to offend them."</p> + +<p>"No. It was the first balance of power that turned up. I remember it +well. It was to be convinced by arguments. You were going down there to +discuss principles, but you couldn't appeal to their judicial minds or +reach their reason unless you changed your clothes; and when you got +there as their guest, and ventured to ask for a glass of Vichy before +you spoke, do you remember what they brought you?" demanded Mrs. +Perkins, warming up to her subject.</p> + +<p>The candidate smiled faintly. "Yes," he answered. "Beer."</p> + +<p>"Exactly; and when he gave you the beer, that MacHenty man whispered in +your ear, 'Drink that; it'll go better wid the byes.'"</p> + +<p>"He did," said Thaddeus, meekly.</p> + +<p>"And yet you talk about this appeal to a reasonable balance of power! +Really, Teddy, you are becoming demoralized. Politics, as I see it, is +an appeal to thirst, and nothing else."</p> + +<p>"'You never miss the voter till the keg runs dry,'" sang the candidate, +with a more or less successful attempt at gayety. "But never mind, Bess. +I've had enough, and if I'm beaten this time I'll never do it again. So +don't worry; and, after all, this is only a municipal election.</p> + +<p>The difference between a grand inspiring massive war for principle and +a street riot. The supreme court of arbitration, the people, can be +relied on to do the right thing in the end. They are sane. They are +honest. They are not all thirsty, and in this as in all contests the +blatant attract the most attention. The barker at the door of the side +show to the circus makes more noise than the eight-headed boy that makes +the mare go."</p> + +<p>"You're a trifle mixed in your metaphors, Teddy," said Mrs. Perkins.</p> + +<p>"Well who wouldn't be, after a three weeks' appeal to an arid waste of +voters?"</p> + +<p>"A waste of arid voters," amended Mrs. Perkins.</p> + +<p>"The amendment is accepted," laughed Thaddeus. And at that moment a +telephone call from headquarters summoned him abroad.</p> + +<p>"Good-night, Bess," he said, kissing his wife affectionately. "This is +the last night."</p> + +<p>"Good-night, Teddy; I hope it is. And next time when they ask you to +run—"</p> + +<p>"You shall be the balance of power, and decide the question for me," +said the candidate, as, with sorrow in his heart, he left his home to +seek out what he called "the branch office of Hades," political +headquarters, where were gathered some fifty persons, most of whom began +life in other countries, under different skies, and to whom the national +anthem "America" meant less and aroused fewer sentiments worth having +than that attractive two-step "St. Patrick's Day in the Morning," and +who were yet sufficiently powerful with the various "balances" of the +town to hold its political destinies in their itching palms.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Two months after this discussion the late Honorable Thaddeus Perkins, +ex-candidate, and Mayor of Dumfries Corners only by courtesy of those +who honor defeated candidates with titles for which they have striven +unsuccessfully, was strolling through the country along the line of the +Croton Aqueduct, trying to disentangle, with the aid of the fresh sweet +air of an early summer afternoon, an idea for a sonnet from the mazes of +his brain. Stopping for a moment to look down upon the glorious Hudson +stretching its shimmering length like a bimetallic serpent to the north +and south, he suddenly became conscious of a pair of very sharp eyes +resting upon him, which a closer inspection showed belonged to a laborer +of seemingly diminutive stature, who was engaged in carrying earth in a +wheelbarrow from one dirt-pile to another. As Thaddeus caught his eye +the laborer assumed towering proportions. He rose up quite two feet +higher in the air and bowed.</p> + +<p>"How do you do?" said Perkins, returning the salutation courteously, +wondering the while as to what might be the cause of this sudden change +of height.</p> + +<p>"Oi'm well—which is nothin' new to me," replied the other. "Ut sheems +to me," he continued, "thot youse resimbles thot smart young felly +Perkins, the Mayor of Dumfries Corners—not!"</p> + +<p>Perkins laughed. The sting of defeat had lost its power to annoy, and +his experience had become merely one of a thousand other nightmares of +the past.</p> + +<p>"Do I?" he replied, resolving not to confess his identity, for the +moment at least.</p> + +<p>"Only thinner," chuckled the laborer, shrinking up again; and Perkins +now saw that the legs of his new acquaintance were of an abnormally +unequal length, which forced him every time he shifted his weight from +one foot to the other to change his apparent height to a startling +degree. "An' a gude dale thinner," he repeated. "There's nothin' loike +polithical exersoize to take off th' flesh, parthicularly when ye miss +ut."</p> + +<p>"I fancy you are right," said Perkins. "I never met Mr. Perkins—that +is, face to face—myself. Do you know him?"</p> + +<p>The Irishman threw his head back and laughed.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said, "oi'm not wan uv his pershonal fri'nds. But oi know um +when oi see um," and he looked Thaddeus straight in the eye as he grew +tall again.</p> + +<p>"I'm sure it is Perkins's loss," returned Thaddeus, "that you are not a +personal friend of his."</p> + +<p>"It was," said the Irishman. "My name is Finn," he added, with an air +which seemed to assume that Perkins would begin to tremble at the +dreaded word; but Perkins did not tremble. He merely replied,</p> + +<p>"A very good name, Mr. Finn."</p> + +<p>"Oi t'ink so," assented Mr. Finn. "Ut's better nor Dinnis, me young +fri'nd."</p> + +<p>Perkins assented to this proposition as though it was merely general, +and had no particular application to the affairs of the moment. "I +suppose, Mr. Finn," he observed, shortly, "that you were one of the +earnest workers in the late campaign for Mr. Perkins?"</p> + +<p>"Was he elicted?" asked Finn, scornfully.</p> + +<p>"I believe not," began Thaddeus. "But—"</p> + +<p>"Thot's me answer to your quistion, sorr," said Finn, with dignity. +"He'd 'a' had lamps befoor his house now, sorr, if he hadn't been gay +wid his front dure."</p> + +<p>"Oh—he was gay with his front door, was he?" asked Perkins.</p> + +<p>"He was thot, an' not ony too careful uv his windy-shades," replied +Finn.</p> + +<p>Perkins looked at him inquiringly.</p> + +<p>"Givin' me, Mike Finn, song an' dance about not bein' home, wid me +fri'nds outside on the lawn watchin' him troo de windy, laffin' loike a +hayeny."</p> + +<p>"Excuse me—like a what?" said Thaddeus.</p> + +<p>"A hayeny," repeated Mr. Finn. "Wan o' thim woild bastes as laffs at +nothin' much. 'Is he home?' sez oi. 'Are yees a pershonal fri'nd?' says +the gurl. 'Oi'm not,' sez oi. 'He ain't home,' says the gurl. 'Whin'll +he be back?' says oi. 'Niver,' says she, shlammin' the dure in me face; +and Mike Finn wid a certifikut uv election for um in his pocket!"</p> + +<p>"A certificate of election?" cried Perkins. "And he wouldn't see you?"</p> + +<p>"He would not."</p> + +<p>"You were to an extent the balance of power, then?"</p> + +<p>"That's what oi was," said Finn, enjoying what he thought was Perkins's +dismay; for he knew well enough to whom he was talking. "Oi was the rale +bonyfiday balance uv power. Oi've got foive sons, sorr, and ivery wan o' +thim byes is conthracthors, or, what's as good, bosses uv gangs on +public an' proivate works. There ain't wan uv thim foive byes as don't +conthrol twinty-foive votes, an' there ain't wan uv 'em as don't moind +what the ould mon says to um. Not wan, sorr. An' they resints the +turnin' down uv their father."</p> + +<p>"That's as it should be," said Perkins.</p> + +<p>"An' ut's as ut was, me young fri'nd. Whin oi wint home to me pershonal +fri'nds at th' Finn Club, Misther Perkins had losht me. Wan gone. Whin +oi tould the Finn Club, wan hundred sthrong, he losht thim. Wan hundred +and wan gone. Whin oi tould th' byes, he losht thim. Wan hundred an' six +gone. An' whin they tould their twinty-foive apiece, ivery twinty-foive +o' thim wint. Wan hundred an' six plus wan hundred an' twinty-foive +makes two hundred an' thirty-wan votes losht at the shlammin' uv the +front dure. An' whin two hundred an' thirty-wan votes laves wan soide +minus an' the other soide plus, th' gineral result is a difference uv +twoice two hundred an' thirty-wan, or foor hundred an' sixty-two. D'ye +mind thot, sorr?"</p> + +<p>"I see," said Perkins. "And as this—ah—this particular candidate was +beaten by a bare majority of two or three hundred votes—"</p> + +<p>"It was <i>me</i> as done it!" put in the balance of power, shaking his +finger at Perkins impressively. "Me—Mike Finn!"</p> + +<p>"Well, I hope Mr. Perkins hears of it, Mr. Finn," put in Thaddeus. "I am +told that he is wondering yet what hit him, and having put the affront +upon you, and through that inexcusable act lost the election, he ought +to know that you were his Nemesis."</p> + +<p>"His what?" queried the real balance.</p> + +<p>"His Nemesis. Nemesis is the name of a Greek goddess," exclaimed +Perkins.</p> + +<p>"Oi'm no Greek, nor no goddess," retorted Finn, "but I give him the +throw-down."</p> + +<p>"That's what I meant," explained Thaddeus. "The word has become part of +the English language. Nemesis was the Goddess of the Throw-down, and the +word is used to signify that."</p> + +<p>"Oh, oi see," said Finn, scratching his head reflectively. Perkins took +his revelation a trifle too calmly. "You say you don't know this +Perkins," he asked.</p> + +<p>"Well, I never met him," said the ex-candidate, smiling. "But I know +him."</p> + +<p>Finn laughed again. "Oi'll bet ye do; an' oi guiss ye've seen his fa-ace +long about shavin'-toime in the mornin' in the lukin'-glash—eh?"</p> + +<p>"Well, yes," smiled Perkins. "I confess I'm the man, Mr. Finn; but now +we are—personal friends—eh? I was fagged out that night, and—you +didn't send in your card, you know—and I didn't know it was you." The +balance of power cast down his eyes, and rubbing his hand on his +overalls as if to clean it, stretched it out. Perkins grasped it, and +Finn gave a slight gulp. He wasn't quite happy. The proffered friendship +of the man he had helped to defeat rather upset him; but he was equal to +the occasion.</p> + +<p>"Niver moind, sorr," he said, when he had quite recovered. "You're young +yit. They've shoved yees out this toime, but wait awhoile. Yees'll be +back."</p> + +<p>"No, Mr. Finn," replied Perkins, handing Finn a cigar. "Thanks to you, I +got out of a tight hole, and as our maid said to you that night, I'll +'niver be back.' But if you happen down my way again, I'll be glad to +see you—at any time. Good-bye."</p> + +<p>The two parted, and Thaddeus walked home, thinking deeply of the +far-reaching effect in this life of little things; and as for Finn, he +bit off half the cigar Perkins had given him, and as he chewed upon it, +sitting on the edge of his barrow, he remarked forcibly to himself, +"Well, oi'll be daamned!"</p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="JARLEY'S_EXPERIMENT"></a><h2>JARLEY'S EXPERIMENT</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Jarley was an inventive genius. He invented things for the pleasure of +it rather than with any idea of ultimately profiting from the results of +his ingenuity, which may explain why it was that his friends deemed many +of his contrivances a sheer waste of time. Among other things that +Jarley invented was a tennis-racket which could be folded up and packed +away in a trunk. The fact that any ordinary tennis-racket could be +packed away in any ordinary trunk without being folded up was to Jarley +no good reason why he should not devote his energies to the production +of the compact weapon of sport which he called the Jarley Racket. He was +after novelty, and utility was always a secondary consideration with +him. Others of his inventions were somewhat more startling. "The Jarley +Ready Writing-Desk for Night Use," for instance, was a really +remarkable conception. Its chief value lay in the saving of gas and +midnight oil to impecunious writers which its use was said to bring +about, and when fully equipped consisted simply of a writing-table with +all the appliances and conveniences thereof treated with phosphorus in +such a manner that in the blackest of darkness they could all be seen +readily. The ink even was phosphorescent. The paper was luminous in the +dark. The penholders, pens, pen-wipers, mucilage-bottle, everything, in +fact, that an author really needs for the production of literature, save +ideas, were so prepared that they could not fail to be visible to the +weakest eye in the darkest night without the aid of other illumination. +The chief trouble with the invention was that in the long-run it was +more expensive than gas or oil could possibly be in the most extravagant +household; but that bothered Jarley not a jot. Nor was he at all upset +when his ingenious Library Folding-Bed, comprising a real bookcase and +sofa-couch, failed to suit his practical-minded friends because, when +turned down for use as a couch, all the books in the bookcase side of +it fell out upon the floor. His arrangement was better than the ordinary +folding-bed, he said, because the bookcase side of it was not a sham, +but the real thing, while that of the folding-bed of commerce was a +delusion and a snare. As a hater of shams he justified his invention, +though of course it couldn't be put to much practical use unless the +purchaser was willing to take his books out of the shelves when he +intended using the piece of furniture for sleeping purposes. If the +purchaser was too lazy to do this it was not Jarley's fault, so the +inventor reasoned, nor did he intend improving his machine in order to +accommodate the lazy man in his pursuit of a life of indolence.</p> + +<p>When Jarley married he turned his attention to the devising of apparatus +to make domestic life less trying to Mrs. Jarley. As a bachelor he had +contrived quite a number of mechanical effects which made his lonely +life easier. He had fitted up his rooms with devices by means of which, +while lying in bed on cold mornings, he could light his gas-stove +without getting up; and his cigars, the ends of which he had dipped in +sulphur, so that they could be lit by scratching them on the under side +of the mantel-piece, just as matches are ignited, were the delight of +his life. Now, however, he turned his mind towards helping little Mrs. +Jarley on in the domestic world. He prepared a chart by means of which +the monotony of marketing was done away with entirely. He also arranged +for her a charming automatic curl-paper box, and drew up a plan for a +patent pair of curling-tongs, which could be fastened to the gas-fixture +and kept heated to the degree required, so that it might be used at a +moment's notice. This was provided with a number of movable ends, all +different, in order that Mrs. Jarley could, if she chose, vary the +appearance of her curls according to her taste; and although the little +lady never approved of it sufficiently to have it made, it was +undoubtedly a valuable contrivance.</p> + +<p>Then when Jarley junior came along to delight the parent soul, +self-rocking cradles and perpetual reservoirs for food were devised, and +some of them put into actual use, though, as a rule, Mrs. Jarley +preferred the old-fashioned methods to which she was by her home +training more accustomed.</p> + +<p>The great invention of Jarley, however, was the result of his study of +Jarley junior as that very charming and exceedingly agile child +developed from infancy into boyhood. The idea came to him one Sunday +afternoon while Mrs. Jarley was at church. It was the nursemaid's +afternoon out, and Jarley had undertaken to care for Master Jarley in +the absence of his true guardians.</p> + +<p>"Well, Jack," he said to his son, when they had been left in sole +possession of the Jarley mansion, "you and I must entertain each other +this afternoon. What shall we do?"</p> + +<p>"I'd like to play choo-choo car with you," said Jack. "I'll be the +engine and you be the train."</p> + +<p>"Very well," said Jarley. "Have you got your steam up?"</p> + +<p>"Yeth," lisped Jack. "All aboard!"</p> + +<p>Jarley hitched himself on to the engine as best he could by grabbing +hold of Jack's little coat tail, and the train started. It was the most +tedious journey Jarley ever undertook. The train went up and down +stairs, out upon the piazza, and finally landed in the kitchen, where +the engine fired up on such fuel as gingerbread and cookies. +Incidentally the train, as represented by Jarley, took on a load of +freight, consisting of the same fuel, and off they started again. At the +end of a half-hour's run Jarley was worn out, but the engine seemed to +gather strength and speed the farther it travelled; and as it let out a +fearful shriek—possibly a whistle—every time the rear end of the train +suggested side-tracking and a cessation of traffic for a month or two, +Jarley in his indulgence invariably withdrew the proposition. The +consequence was that when Mrs. Jarley returned from church Jarley was a +wreck, and as he handed the engine over to the maternal care he observed +with some testiness that in a well-kept household it seemed to him +matters should be so arranged that a busy man should not be compelled to +turn himself into a child's nurse, especially on the one day of the week +which he could devote to rest and relaxation. "If I had that boy's +energy," he said to himself as he fled to his library, "what wonders I +would accomplish! What a shame it is, too, that the wasted energy of +youth cannot be stored up in some way, so that when there comes the real +need for it, it can be made available!"</p> + +<p>This thought was the germ of his invention. As he lay there in the +library he thought over the possibilities of life if the nervous force +of childhood, the misdirected energy of play-time, could only be put by +and drawn upon later just as man puts by the money he does not need in +the present for use in case of future rainy days. Then, as the sun sank +below the hills and the twilight hours with their inspiring softness +came on, Jarley resolved that he was the man to whom had come the +mission which should make of this ideal a reality. Probably in the full +glare of day he would not have undertaken it; but Jarley, in common with +most men of dreamy nature, felt in the quiet dusk the power to do all +things. He had the poetic temperament which sometimes leads on to great +things, and the man so gifted who does not feel himself capable, at that +hour of the day of rest, of battering down Gibraltar or of upbuilding +the whole human race, must account himself a failure.</p> + +<p>"I'll do it," he murmured, drowsily, to himself, and he did. How he did +it was Jarley's own secret, and while he confides many things to me, +this secret he kept, and still keeps. All I know is that he fitted up a +play-room for Jack on the attic floor, and by means of an apparatus, the +peculiarities of whose construction he alone knows, he managed after a +while to store up the superfluous energy which Jack expended upon +everything that he did. Every time Jack turned a somersault he +contributed, unknown to himself, something to the growing bulk of +hoarded force in the reservoir provided for its reception. All the +strength necessary for the somersault was devoted to that operation. The +superfluity went to the reservoir. So, also, when in his play of scaling +imaginary rocks after fictitious wild beasts he endeavored futilely to +walk up the play-room wall, the unavailing energy went to augment the +stores from which Jarley hoped to extract so much that would prove of +value to the world.</p> + +<p>When the reservoir was full the question that confronted Jarley was as +to the value of its contents, and to ascertain this he resolved upon an +experiment upon himself. No one else, he believed, would be willing to +subject himself to the experiment, nor did he wish at that time to let +others into his secret. Even Mrs. Jarley was not aware of his efforts, +and so he made the experiment. He liquefied the energy Jack had wasted, +and upon retiring one night took what he considered to be the proper +dose for the test. The effect was remarkable.</p> + +<p>When he rose up the next morning he experienced a consciousness of power +that reminded him of sundry tales of Samson. But there was one drawback. +He did not seem quite able to control himself. For instance, instead of +dressing in the usual dignified and quiet way, he found himself prancing +about his room like a young colt, and while he was taking his bath he +had a yearning for objects of juvenile <i>virtu</i> which had for many years +been strangers to his tub. He was not at all satisfied with his dip +plain and unadorned, and he had developed an unconquerable aversion for +soap. It was all he could do to restrain his inclination to call +vociferously for a number of small tin boats and birch-bark canoes, +without which Jack never bathed. He did conquer it, however, and at the +end of a half-hour managed to reach the end of his bath, though as a +rule he had hitherto rarely expended more than ten minutes in his +morning ablutions. Then came another difficulty. He found himself +utterly unable to stand still while he was putting on his clothes, and +finally Mrs. Jarley had to be called in to comb his hair for him. Jarley +himself could no more have taken the time to part it satisfactorily than +he could have flown.</p> + +<p>"What <i>is</i> the matter with you?" said Mrs. Jarley, as she made several +ineffectual attempts to get his truant locks into shape. "Have you +caught St. Vitus's dance?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing's the matter with me," returned Jarley, standing on one foot +and hopping up and down thereon. "I feel well, that's all."</p> + +<p>And then he tore out of the room, mounted the banisters, and slid +downstairs in an utterly unbecoming fashion, considering that he was a +man of thirty-five and the head of the house. He felt a little ashamed +of himself in the midst of this operation, particularly when he observed +that the waitress was standing in the hall below-stairs, looking at him +with eyes that betokened an astonishment as creditable to her as it was +disgraceful to him. He tried vainly to stop his wild descent when he +noted her presence. He clutched madly at the banisters, turning his +hands and knees into brakes in his effort to save his dignity; but once +started he could not stop, and as a consequence he went down like a +flash, slid precipitately over the newel-post, and landed with a cry of +mortification on the hall floor. He was not hurt, save in his +self-esteem, and gathering himself together, he endeavored to walk with +dignity into the dining-room; but he had hardly reached the door, when +he was overcome with a mad desire to whoop—and whoop he did. As a +consequence of the whoop Jack was scolded when Mrs. Jarley came down. +She had no idea that Jarley himself could be so blind to propriety as to +yell in so indecorous a fashion; and when poor little Jack was +upbraided, Jarley, despite his good intention to confess himself the +guilty party, discovered that the only act he was capable of was +giggling. Jack of course wept, and the more he wept the more Jarley +giggled, and was taken to task for encouraging the boy in his +misbehavior.</p> + +<p>During breakfast he was unusually demonstrative. He could not bring +himself to await his turn when the potatoes were passed, and in his +eagerness to get at them he overturned his coffee, which served to turn +the tables a little, for Jack giggled at the mishap, while Jarley became +the centre of Mrs. Jarley's displeasure. What was worse, Jarley, try as +he might, could not resist the temptation to kick the legs of the table, +and it was not until Mrs. Jarley had threatened to dismiss Jack from her +presence, supposing that he must, of course, be the offender, that +Jarley assumed the burden of his misbehavior.</p> + +<p>It was not until Jarley set out to his office, however, that he realized +the real horror of his condition. Instead of riding down-town on one +cable-car, as was his wont, he found himself trying, boy-like, to steal +a ride by jumping on a car platform and standing there until the +conductor came along, when he would hop off, ride a block or two on the +end of a truck, and then try a new car, so beating his way down-town. +Then he arrived at his office. I have neglected to state that while +invention was Jarley's avocation, he was by profession a lawyer, being +the junior member of a highly successful firm, at the head of which was +no less a person than the eminent William J. Baker, whose record at the +bar is too well known to require any further words of mine to recall him +to the minds of my readers. Jarley had not been in the office more than +ten minutes before he realized that he might better have remained at +home while the influence of Jack's wasted energy was within him. He was +in a state of irrepressibility. No matter how strongly he endeavored to +hold himself in check he could not do so, and his day down-town was like +the days of most boys who are permitted to spend a morning and an +afternoon with their parent in the workshop. The first thing he did on +reaching his desk was to roll back its folding top. This pleased him +unaccountably. He had never before imagined that so much fun could be +got out of the rolling top of a desk, and for a full quarter of an hour +he pulled it backward and forward, and so noisily withal that Mr. Baker +sent one of the clerks in to see if the office-boy had not become +suddenly insane.</p> + +<p>Recalled to his true self for the moment, Jarley endeavored to get down +to work, but as he made the endeavor he became conscious that a +revolving chair has very pleasing qualities to one who is fond of +twirling. Round and round he twirled, and as he twirled he grabbed up +his cane, and in a moment realized that he was playing that he was on a +merry-go-round, and trying to secure a renewal of his right to ride by +catching imaginary rings on the end of his stick. This operation +consumed quite five minutes more of his time, and was accompanied by +such a vast number of "Hoop-las" that Mr. Baker came himself to see what +was the cause of the unseemly racket. Fortunately for Jarley, just as +his partner reached the doorway, the chair had reached the limit of its +twirling capacity, and having been unscrewed as far as it could be, +toppled over on to the floor, with Jarley underneath. "What in the +world does this mean, Jarley?" said Mr. Baker, severely, as he assisted +his fallen partner to rise.</p> + +<p>"My chair has come apart," laughed Jarley, getting red in the face.</p> + +<p>"That's the great trouble with that kind of chair," said Mr. Baker. "You +don't seem to mind the mishap very much."</p> + +<p>"Oh no," said Jarley, gritting his teeth in his determination not to +follow his mad impulse to jump on Mr. Baker's shoulders and clamor for a +picky-back ride. "No; I don't mind little things like that much."</p> + +<p>Here he stood on his right leg, as he had done before breakfast, and +began to hop.</p> + +<p>"Hurt your foot?" queried Mr. Baker.</p> + +<p>Jarley seized at the suggestion with all the despairing vigor of a +drowning man clutching at a rope.</p> + +<p>"Yes; a little, but not enough to mention," he said; whereupon, much to +his relief, Mr. Baker turned away and went back to his own room.</p> + +<p>"This will never do," Jarley moaned to himself when his partner had +gone. "If one of my clients should come in—"</p> + +<p>Then he stopped and grinned like a mischievous lad. He had caught sight +of an old water-meter that had been used as an exhibit in a case he had +once tried against the city in behalf of an inventor, who had been led +to believe that the water board would adopt his patent and compel every +householder to buy one for the registration of water consumed. What fun +it would be to take that apart, he thought, and thinking thus was enough +to set him about the task. He locked his door, moved the strange-looking +contrivance out into the middle of the room, and tried to unscrew the +top of it with his eraser. The delicate blade of this improvised +screw-driver snapped off in an instant, whereupon Jarley tried the +scissors, with similar results. After a half-hour of this he gave up the +idea of taking the meter apart, but his soul immediately became +possessed of another idea, which was to see if it worked. The pursuit of +this brought him the most deliriously joyful sensations; and for an hour +he devoted himself to filling the machine up with water drawn from a +faucet at one side of his room, and poured into the meter from a +drinking-glass. It was not until the hour was up that he observed that +the water after passing through the meter came out upon the carpet, and +it is probable that even then he would not have noticed it had not the +tenants below sent up to inquire if there was not something wrong with +the water-pipes overhead.</p> + +<p>When Jarley realized what had happened he wisely determined to give up +business for the day. While the spirit of Jack was within him, the +business he might transact was not likely to prove of value to himself +or to any one else. So he put on his hat and coat, called a cab, and +started for home. His experiences in the cab were quite of a kind with +the experiences of the morning, and attended with no little personal +danger. He would lean against the cab door and put his arm out and try +to touch horse-cars as they passed. Once or twice he nearly had his head +knocked off by sticking it out of the windows; but by some happy chance +he got interested in the cab curtains and the inviting little strings, +which, when pulled, made them fly up with a snap. Absorbed in this +occupation, he drove on, and gave up all such dangerous experiments as +playing tag with horse-cars and trucks, and arrived at home in time for +luncheon unhurt.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Jarley was somewhat alarmed at the unexpected return of Mr. Jarley, +but was content with his explanation that while he never felt better in +his life, he deemed it best to return and attend to his work in the +privacy of his own home. For the proper accomplishment of this work he +said that he thought he would use Jack's nursery on the attic floor, +where he could be quiet, and he asked as an especial favor that he might +be left alone with Jack for the balance of the day.</p> + +<p>He had made up his mind that his experiments, while a success in one +way, were not what he expected in another way. He had found Jack's +energy very energetic indeed, but not suited for adult use, and he even +found himself wondering why he had not thought of that before. However, +the thing to do now was to get rid of that spirit as soon as possible. +If it had become permanently a part of him, he had reached his second +childhood, which for a man of thirty-five is a disturbing thought. So +disturbing was it that Jarley resolved upon a heroic measure to cure +himself. <i>Similia similibus</i> struck him as being the only possible cure, +and so, regardless of the possible consequences to his physical being, +he "permitted" Jack to be with him up-stairs "while he worked," as he +put it to Mrs. Jarley, though all others were forbidden to approach.</p> + +<p>The result was as he had foreseen. Jack's energy in Jack, pure and +unadulterated, had very little trouble in wearing out the diluted energy +which his father had acquired from his superfluous stores, and night +coming on found Jarley, after a three hours' steady circus with his son, +in his normal condition mentally. But physically! What a poor wreck of a +human system was his when the last bit of the boyish spirit was +consumed! Had he worked at brick-laying for a week without rest Jarley +could not have been more prostrated physically. But he was happy. His +tests had proved that he could do certain things, but the results he had +expected as to the value of those things were not what he had hoped for. +At any rate, his experiment gave him greater sympathy with his boy than +he had ever had before, and they have become great chums. The greatest +disappointment of the whole affair is Jack's, who wonders why it is that +he and his father have no more afternoon acrobatics such as they had in +the play-room that day, but until he is a good many years older his +father cannot tell him, for the boy could not in the present stage of +his intellectual development understand him if he tried.</p> + +<p>As for Mr. Baker and the people at the office, they were not at all +astonished to hear the next day that Jarley was laid up, and would +probably, not appear at the office again for a week, although they were +a little surprised when they learned that his trouble was rheumatism, +and not softening of the brain.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="JARLEY'S_THANKSGIVING"></a><h2>JARLEY'S THANKSGIVING</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Jarley was in a blue mood the night before Thanksgiving. Things hadn't +gone quite to suit him during the year. He had lost two of his most +profitable clients—men upon whom for two years previously he had been +able to count for a steady income. It is true that he had lost them by +winning their respective suits, and had made two strong friends by so +doing; but, as he once put it to Mrs. Jarley, the worst position a man +could possibly get himself into was that of one who is long on friends +and short on income. He did not underestimate the value of friends, but +he didn't want too many of them; because beyond a certain number they +became luxuries rather than necessities, and his financial condition was +such that he could not afford luxuries.</p> + +<p>"I love them all," he said, "but I haven't money enough to entertain a +quarter of them. The last time Billie Hicks was up here he smoked +sixteen Invincible cigars. Now, I am very fond of Billie Hicks, but with +cigars at twenty cents apiece I can't afford him more than one Sunday in +a year. He's getting a little cold because I haven't asked him up +since."</p> + +<p>"Why don't you buy cheaper cigars? At our grocery store they have some +very nice looking ones at two for five cents," suggested Mrs. Jarley.</p> + +<p>"I don't wish to have to move out of, the house," said Jarley.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Jarley failed to see the connection.</p> + +<p>"Very likely you don't," said Jarley; "but if I smoked one of your +two-and-a-half-cent grocery cigars in this house, you'd see the point in +a minute. If you will get me a yard of cotton cloth, and let me put it +in the furnace fire, you'll get a fair idea of the kind of atmosphere +we'd be breathing if I allowed a cigar like that to be lit within fifty +feet of the front door."</p> + +<p>"But you can get a good cigar for ten cents, can't you?" Mrs. Jarley +asked. "Yes—very good," assented Jarley; "but Billie would probably +smoke thirty-two of those, and carry three or four away with him in his +pockets. I'd lose even more that way. It's a singular thing about +friends. They have some conscience about Invincible cigars, but they'll +take others by the handful."</p> + +<p>Jarley was also somewhat blue upon this occasion because none of his +inventions—the little things he thought out in his leisure moments, and +out of some of which he had hoped to gain a deal of profit—had been +successful. The public had refused to place any confidence whatsoever in +his patent reversible spats, which, when turned inside out, could be +made useful as galoches; and the beaux of New York actually rejected +with scorn the celluloid chrysanthemum, which he had hoped would become +a popular boutonnière because of its durability and cheapness. An +impecunious young man with care could make one fifteen-cent +chrysanthemum of the Jarley order last through a whole season, and it +could be colored to suit the wearer's taste with the ordinary +paint-boxes that children so delight in; but in spite of this the +celluloid chrysanthemum was a distinct failure, and Jarley had had his +trouble for his pains, to say nothing of the cost of the model. But +worst of all the failures, because of the prospective losses its failure +entailed, was the Jarley safety lightning razor. Its failure was not due +to any lack of merit, for it certainly possessed much that was ingenious +and commendable. The affair was not different in principle from a +lawn-mower. Six little sharp blades set on a cylinder would revolve +rapidly as the pretty machine was pushed up and down the cheek of the +person shaving, and leave the face of that person as smooth as a piece +of velvet; but in announcing it to the world its inventor had made the +unfortunate statement that a child could use it with impunity, and some +would-be smart person on a comic paper took it up and wrote an +undeniably clever article on the futility of inventing a razor for +children. The consequence was that the safety razor was laughed out of +existence, and the additions to his residence which Jarley was going to +pay for out of the proceeds had to be abandoned.</p> + +<p>"I don't like a blue funk," he said, "and generally I can find +something to be thankful for at this season; but I'm blest if this year, +beyond the fact that we're all alive, I can see any cause for +celebrating my thankfulness. I haven't enough of it to last ten minutes, +much less a day, what with the positive failure of my inventions, the +loss of income from what I once considered safe investments that have +gone to the wall, and the reduction of my professional earnings, not to +mention the fact that almost at the beginning of my professional year I +am as tired physically and mentally as I ought to be at the finish."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, say you are thankful, anyhow," suggested Mrs. Jarley. "You +will convince others that you are, and maybe, if you say it often +enough, you will convince yourself of the fact."</p> + +<p>"Thanks," said Jarley. "It's possibly a good suggestion, but I don't +believe in pretending to be what I'm not. It might convince me that I am +thankful for something, but I don't want to be convinced when I know I'm +not."</p> + +<p>Which shows, I think, how very blue Jarley was.</p> + +<p>"There's one thing," he added, with a sigh of relief at the +thought—"I'll have a day of rest to-morrow anyhow. I've bought Jack a +football, and he can take it out on the tennis-court and play with it +all day, with intervals for meals."</p> + +<p>"Why did you do that?" asked Mrs. Jarley, with a gesture not so much of +indignation as of disapproval. "I think football is such a brutal game; +and if Jack has a football at his present age, when he's in college +he'll want to play. I don't want to have my boy wearing his hair like a +Comanche Indian, and coming home with broken ribs and dislocated limbs."</p> + +<p>"We'll let the broken ribs of 1904 and the wig of the same period +suffice for the evils of that year," retorted Jarley. "It's the present +I'm looking after, not the future ten or twelve years removed. If Jack +hasn't that football to-morrow he'll have me, and I've no desire in the +present condition of my physical well-being to be used by him as a +plaything. Deprived of the leathern ball, he might use me as a football +instead, and I must rest. That's all there is about it. Besides, if he +becomes an aspirant for football honors now it will be a good thing for +him. He'll take care of himself and try to improve his physique if he +once gets the notion in his head that he wants to go on a university +eleven. I want my boy to learn to be a man, and the football ambition is +likely to be a very useful aid in that direction. He knits reins very +well with a spool and a pin now, and I think it's time he graduated in +that art, unless the woman of the future, of whom we hear so much, is to +take man's place to such an extent that the man will have to take up +woman's work. If I thought the masculine tendency of our present-day +girls was likely to go much further, I might consent to the effemination +of Jack simply to secure his comfort as a married man of the future; but +I don't think that, and in consequence Jack is going to be brought up as +a boy, and not as a girl. The football goes."</p> + +<p>This remark was another indication of Jarley's depression. He rarely +combated Mrs. Jarley's ideas, and when he did, and with a certain air of +irritation, it was invariably a sign of his low mental state.</p> + +<p>"When you say that the football goes, do you mean that it stays?" +queried Mrs. Jarley, who was a little tired herself, and could not, +therefore, resist the temptation to indulge in a bit of innocent +repartee.</p> + +<p>"I do," said Jarley, shortly. "Goes is sometimes a synonym for stays? +When I feel stronger I may invent a new language, which will have fewer +absurdities than English as she is spoke."</p> + +<p>And with this Jarley went to bed, and slept the sleep of the just man +who is truly weary.</p> + +<p>If he had foreseen the result of his football investment it is doubtful +if his sleep would have been so tranquil—unless, perchance, he were +fashioned after that rare pattern of mankind, Louis XVI. of France, who +called for his six or seven course dinner with a mob of howling, +bloodthirsty Parisians in his antechamber, and who on the eve of his +execution slept well, despite his knowledge that within fifteen hours +his head would in all probability be lopped off by the guillotine to +gratify the lust for blood which was the chief characteristic of the +promoters of the first French Republic.</p> + +<p>At six on the morning of Thanksgiving Day Jarley was sleeping +peacefully, but the youthful Jack was not. Thanksgiving Day was not a +holiday in his eyes, but a day set apart for work, thanks to his +father's indulgence in providing him with a football. He had gone to bed +the night before with the ball hugged tightly to his breast; and along +about ten o'clock, when Jarley himself had gone into the nursery to put +that treasured good-night kiss upon the forehead of his sleeping boy, +tired as he was and blue as he was, he had difficulty in repressing the +laughter that manifested itself within him, for Jack lay prone, face +upward, with the football under the small of his back, and seemingly as +comfortable as though he were resting upon eider-down.</p> + +<p>"That is certainly a characteristic football attitude," Jarley said, +when Mrs. Jarley had come to see what had caused her husband's chuckle.</p> + +<p>"Yes—and so good for the spine!" returned Mrs. Jarley.</p> + +<p>The attitude was changed, but the ball was left where Jack would see it +the first thing on awaking in the morning. At six, as I have said, +Jarley was sleeping peacefully, but Jack was not. He had opened his +eyes some minutes before, and on catching sight of his treasured +football he began to grin. The grin grew wider and wider, until +apparently it got too wide for the bed, and the boy leaped out of his +couch upon the floor. The first thing he did was to pat the ball gently +but firmly, very much as a kitten manifests its interest in a ball of +yarn. Then his attentions to his new plaything grew more pronounced and +vigorous, and within fifteen minutes it had been chased out of the +nursery into the parental bedchamber. Still Jarley slept. Mrs. Jarley +was merely half asleep. She tried to tell Jack to be quiet; but she was +not quite wide awake enough to do so as forcibly as was necessary, and +the result was that instead of abating his ardor, Jack plunged into his +sport more vigorously than ever.</p> + +<p>And then Jarley was awakened—and what an awakening it was! Not one of +those peaceful comings-to that betoken the tranquil mind after a good +rest, but a return to consciousness with every warlike tendency in his +being aroused to the highest pitch. Jack had passed the ball with +considerable momentum on to the mantel-piece, which sent it backward on +the rebound to no less a feature than the nose of the slumbering Jarley.</p> + +<p>"What the deuce was that?" cried Jarley, sitting up straight in bed. He +had forgotten all about the football, and to his suddenly restored +consciousness it seemed as if the ceiling must have fallen. Then he +rubbed his nose, which still ached from the force of the impact between +itself and the ball.</p> + +<p>"It was the ball did it, papa," said Jack, meekly. "'Twasn't me."</p> + +<p>In an instant Jarley was on the floor; and Jack, scenting trouble, +incontinently fled. The parent was angry from the top of his head to the +soles of his feet, but as the soles of his feet touched the floor his +anger abated. After all, Jack hadn't meant to hurt him, and having +witnessed several games of football, he knew how innately perverse an +oval-shaped affair like the ball itself could be. Furthermore, there was +Mrs. Jarley, who had disapproved of his purchase from the outset. If he +wreaked vengeance upon poor little Jack for his unwitting offence, +Jarley knew that he would in a measure weaken his position in the +argument of the night before. So, instead of chastising Jack, as he +really felt inclined to do, he picked up the ball, and repairing to the +nursery, summoned the boy to him in his sweetest tones.</p> + +<p>"Never mind, old chap," he said, as Jack appeared before him. "I know +you didn't mean it; but you must play in here until it is time for you +to go out. Papa is very sleepy, and you disturb him."</p> + +<p>"All right," said Jack. "I'll play in here. I forgot."</p> + +<p>Then Jarley patted Jack on the head, rubbed his nose again dubiously, +for it still smarted from the effects of the blow it had sustained, and +retired to his bed once more. If he fondly hoped to sleep again, he soon +found that his hope was based upon a most shifting foundation, for the +whoops and cries and noises of all sorts, vocal and otherwise, that +emanated from the next room destroyed all possibility of his doing +anything of the sort. At first the very evident enjoyment of his son and +heir, as Jarley listened to his goings-on in the nursery, amused him +more or less; but his quiet smile soon turned to one of blank dismay +when he heard a thunderous roar from Jack, followed by a crash of glass. +Again springing from his bed, Jarley rushed into the nursery.</p> + +<p>"Well, what's happened now?" he asked.</p> + +<p>Jack's under lip curved in the manner which betokens tears ready to be +shed.</p> + +<p>"Nun-nothing," he sobbed. "I was just k-kicking a goal, and that picture +got in the way."</p> + +<p>Jarley looked for the picture that had got in the way, and at once +perceived that it would never get in the way again, since it was +irretrievably ruined. However, he was not overcome by wrath over this +incident, because the picture was not of any particular value. It was +only a highly colored print of three cats in a basket, which had come +with a Sunday newspaper, and had been cheaply framed and hung up in the +nursery because Jack had so willed. On principle Jarley had to show a +certain amount of displeasure over the accident, and he did as well as +he could under the circumstances, and retired.</p> + +<p>For a while Jack played quietly enough, and Jarley was just about +dozing off into that delicious forty winks prior to getting up when +shrieks from the second Jarley boy came from the nursery. This time Mrs. +Jarley, with one or two expressions of natural impatience, deemed it her +duty to interfere. Jarley, she reasoned, had a perfect right to spoil +Jack if he pleased, but he had no right to permit Jack to do bodily +injury to Tommy; and as Tommy was making the house echo and re-echo with +his wails, she deemed it her duty to take a hand. Jarley meanwhile +pretended to sleep. He was as wide awake as he ever was; but the +atmosphere was not full of warmth, and upon this occasion, as well as +upon many others, his conscience permitted him to overlook the +shortcomings of his elder son, and to assume a somnolence which, while +it was not real, certainly did conduce to the maintenance of his +personal comfort. Mrs. Jarley, therefore, rose up in her wrath. It was +merely a motherly wrath, however, and those of us who have had mothers +will at once realize what that wrath amounted to. She repaired +immediately to the nursery, and without knowing anything of the +technical terms of the noble game of football, instinctively realized +that Jack and Tommy were having a "scrimmage." That is to say, she was +confronted with a structure made up as follows: basement, the ball; +first story, Tommy, with his small and tender stomach placed directly +over the ball; second story and roof, Jack, lying stomach upward and +wiggling, his back accurately registered on Tommy's back, to the +detriment and pain of Tommy.</p> + +<p>"Get <i>up</i>, Jack!" Mrs. Jarley cried. "What on earth are you trying to do +to Tommy? Do you want to kill him?"</p> + +<p>"Nome," Jack replied, innocently. "He wanted to play football, and I'm +letting him. He's Harvard and I'm Yale."</p> + +<p>A smothered laugh from the adjoining room showed that Jarley was not so +soundly sleeping that he could not hear what was going on. Tommy +meanwhile continued to wail.</p> + +<p>"Well, get up,—right away!" cried Mrs. Jarley. "I sha'n't have you +abusing Tommy this way."</p> + +<p>"Ain't abusin' him," retorted Jack, rising. "I was 'commodatin' him. He +wanted to play. When I don't let him play I get scolded, and when I do +let him I'm scolded. 'Pears to me you don't want me to do anything."</p> + +<p>Thus Thanksgiving Day began, not altogether well, but equanimity was +soon restored all around, and everything might have run smoothly from +that time on had not a cold drizzling rain set in about breakfast-time. +It was clearly to be an in-door day. And what a day it was!</p> + +<p>At ten o'clock the football came into play again.</p> + +<p>At eleven the score stood: one clock knocked off the mantel-piece in the +library; three chandelier globes broken to bits; one plaster Barye bear +destroyed by a low kick from the parlor floor; Tommy with his nose very +nearly out of joint, thanks to a flying wedge represented by Jack; Mrs. +Jarley's amiability in peril, and Jarley's irritability well developed.</p> + +<p>At twelve the ball was confiscated, but restored at twelve-five for the +sake of peace and quiet.</p> + +<p>At one, dinner was served and eaten in moody silence, Jack having +inadvertently punted the ball through the pantry, grazing the chignon +of the waitress, and landing in the mayonnaise. It was not a happy +dinner, and Jarley began to wish either that he had never been born or +that all footballs were in Ballyhack, wherever that might be.</p> + +<p>"If it would only clear off!" he moaned. "That boy needs a playground as +big as the State of Texas anyhow, and here we are cooped up in the +house, with a football added."</p> + +<p>"We'll have to take it away from him," said Mrs. Jarley, "or else you'll +have to take Jack up into the attic and play with him. I can't have +everything in the house smashed."</p> + +<p>"We'll compromise on Jack's going to the attic. I have no desire to play +football," returned Jarley; and this was the plan agreed upon. It would +have been a good plan if Jarley had expended some of his inventive +genius upon some such game as football solitaire, and instructed Jack +therein beforehand; but this he had not done, and the result was that at +three o'clock Jarley found himself in the attic involved in a furious +game, in which he represented variously Harvard, the goal, the +goal-posts, the referee, and acting with too great frequency as +understudy for the ball. What he was not, Jack was, and the worst part +of it was that there was no tiring Jack. The longer he played, the +better he liked it. The oftener Jarley's shins received kicks intended +for the football, the louder he laughed. When Jarley, serving as a +goal-post, stood at one end of the attic, Jarley junior, standing +several yards away, often appeared to mistake him for two goal-posts, +and to make an honest effort to kick the ball through him. Slowly the +hours passed, until finally six o'clock struck, and Master Jack's supper +was announced.</p> + +<p>The day was over at last. Wearily Jarley dragged himself down the stairs +and reckoned up the day's losses. In glass and bric-à-brac destroyed he +was some twenty or thirty dollars out. In mayonnaise dressing lost at +dinner through the untoward act of the football he was out one +pleasurable sensation to his palate, and Jarley was one of those, to +whom, that is a loss of an irreparable nature. In bodily estate he was +practically a bankrupt. Had he bicycled all morning and played golf all +the afternoon he could not have been half so weary. Had he been thrown +from a horse flat upon an asphalt pavement he could not have been half +so bruised; all of which Mrs. Jarley considerately noted, and with an +effort recovered her amiability for her husband's sake, so that after +eight o'clock, at which hour Jack retired to bed, a little rest was +obtainable, and Jarley's equanimity was slowly restored.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Mrs. Jarley, as they went up-stairs at eleven, "it hasn't +been a very peaceful day, has it, dear?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, that all depends on how you spell peace. If you spell it p-i-e-c-e, +it's been full of pieces," returned Jarley, with a smile; "but I say, my +dear, I want to modify my statement last night that I had nothing to be +thankful for. I have discovered one great blessing."</p> + +<p>"What's that—a football?" queried Mrs. Jarley.</p> + +<p>"Not by ten thousand long shots!" cried Jarley. "No, indeed. It's this: +I'm more thankful than I can express that Jack is not twins. If he had +been, you'd have been a widow this evening."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="HARRY_AND_MAUDE_AND_ImdashALSO_JAMES"></a><h2>HARRY AND MAUDE AND I—ALSO JAMES</h2> +<br /> + +<p>We both loved Maude deeply, and Maude loved us. We know that, because +Maude told us so. She told Harry so one Sunday evening on the way home +from church, and she told me so the following Saturday afternoon on the +way to the matinée.</p> + +<p>This was the cause of the dispute Harry and I had in the club corner +that Saturday night. Harry and I are confidants, and neither of us has +secrets that the other does not share, and so, of course, Maude's +feeling towards each of us was fully revealed.</p> + +<p>We did not quarrel over it, for Harry and I never quarrel. I want to +quarrel, but it is a peculiar thing about me that I always want to +quarrel with men named Harry, but never can quite do it. Harry is a name +which, <i>per se</i>, arouses my ire, but which carries with it also the +soothing qualities which dispel irritation.</p> + +<p>This is a point for the philosopher, I think. Why is it that we cannot +quarrel with some men bearing certain names, while with far better men +bearing other names we are always at swords' points? Who ever quarrelled +with a man who had so endeared himself to the world, for instance, that +the world spoke of him as Jack, or Bob, or Willie? And who has not +quarrelled with Georges and Ebenezers and Horaces <i>ad lib</i>., and been +glad to have had the chance?</p> + +<p>But this is a thing apart. This time we have set out to tell that other +story which is always mentioned but never told.</p> + +<p>Maude loved us. That was the point upon which Harry and I agreed. We had +her authority for it; but where we differed was, which of the two did +she love the better?</p> + +<p>Harry, of course, took his own side in the matter. He is a man of +prejudice, and argues from sentiment rather than from conviction.</p> + +<p>He said that on her way home from church a girl's thoughts are of +necessity solemn, and her utterances are therefore, the solemn truth. He +added that, in a matter of such importance as love, the conclusion +reached after an hour or two of spiritual reflection and instruction, +such as church in the evening inspires, is the true conclusion.</p> + +<p>On the other hand, I maintained that human nature has something to do +with women. Very little, of course, but still enough to make my point a +good one. It is human nature for a girl to prefer matinées to Sunday +evening services. This is sad, no doubt, but so are some other great +truths. Maude, as a true type of girlhood, would naturally think more of +the man who was taking her to a matinée than of the fellow who was +escorting her home from church, therefore she loved me better than she +did Harry, and he ought to have the sense to see it and withdraw.</p> + +<p>Unfortunately, Harry is near-sighted in respect to arguments evolved by +the mind of another, though in the perception of refinements in his own +reasoning he has the eye of the eagle. "Love on the way to a matinée," +he said, "is one part affection and nine parts enthusiasm."</p> + +<p>"And love on the return from church is in all ten parts temporary +aberration," I returned. "It is what you might call Seventh Day +affection. Quiet, and no doubt sincere, but it is dissipated by the +rising of the Monday sun. It is like our good resolutions on New Year's +Day, which barely last over a fortnight. Some little word spoken by the +rector may have aroused in her breast a spark of love for you, but one +spark does not make a conflagration. Properly fanned it may develop into +one, but in itself it is nothing more than a spark. Who can say that it +was not pity that led Maude to speak so to you? Your necktie may have +been disarranged without your knowing it, and at a time when she could +not tell you of it. That sort of thing inspires pity, and you know as +well as I do that pity and love are cousins, but cousins who never +marry. You are favored, but not to the extent that I am."</p> + +<p>"You argue well," returned Harry, "but you ignore the moon. In the +solemn presence of the great orb of night no woman would swear falsely."</p> + +<p>"You prick your argument with your point," I answered. "There were no +extraneous arguments brought to bear on Maude when she confessed to me +that she loved me. It was done in the cold light of day. There was no +moon around to egg her on when she confessed her affection for me. I +know the moon pretty well myself, and I know just what effect it has on +truth. I have told falsehoods in the moonlight that I knew were +falsehoods, and yet while Luna was looking on, no creature in the +universe could have convinced me of their untruthfulness. The moon's +rays have kissed the Blarney—stone, Harry. A moonlight truth is a +noonday lie."</p> + +<p>"Doesn't the genial warmth of the sun ever lead one from the path of +truth?" queried Harry, satirical of manner.</p> + +<p>"Yes," I answered. "But not in a horse-car with people treading on your +feet."</p> + +<p>"What has that to do with it?" Harry asked.</p> + +<p>"It was on a Broadway car that Maude confessed," I answered.</p> + +<p>Harry looked blue. His eyes said:</p> + +<p>"Gad! How she must love you!" But his lips said: "Ho! Nonsense!"</p> + +<p>"It is the truth," said I, seeing that Harry was weakening. "As we were +waiting for the car to come along I said to her: 'Maude, I am not the +man I ought to be, but I have one redeeming quality: I love you to +distraction.'</p> + +<p>"She was about to reply when the car came. We were requested to step +lively. We did so, and the car started. Then as we stood in the crowded +aisle of the car we spoke in enigmas.</p> + +<p>"'Did you hear what I said, Maude?' I asked.</p> + +<p>"'Yes,' said she, gazing softly out of the window, and a slight touch of +red coming into her cheeks. 'Yes, I heard.'</p> + +<p>"'And what is your reply?' I whispered.</p> + +<p>"'So do I,' she answered, with a sigh."</p> + +<p>Harry laughed, and so irritatingly that had his name been Thomas I +should have struck him.</p> + +<p>"What is the joke?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"You won't think it's funny," Harry answered.</p> + +<p>"Then it must be a poor joke," I retorted, a little nettled.</p> + +<p>"Well, it's on you," he said. "You have simply shown me that Maude +never told you she loved you. That's the joke."</p> + +<p>I was speechless with wrath, but my eyes spoke. "How have I shown that?" +they asked in my behalf.</p> + +<p>"You say that you told Maude that <i>you</i> loved <i>her</i> to distraction. To +which declaration she replied, 'So do I.' Where there is in that any +avowal that <i>she</i> loves <i>you</i> I fail to see. She simply stated that she +too loved herself to distraction, and I breathe again."</p> + +<p>"Hair-splitting!" said I, wrathfully.</p> + +<p>"No—side-splitting!" returned Harry, with a roar of laughter. "Now my +declaration was very different from yours. It was made when Maude and I +were walking home from church. It was about nine o'clock, and the +streets were bathed in mellow moonlight I declared myself because I +could not help myself. I had no intention of doing so when I started out +earlier in the evening, but the uplifting effect of the service of song +at church, combined with the most romantic kind of a moon, forced me +into it. I told her I was a struggler; that I was not yet able to +support a wife; and that while I did not wish to ask any pledge from +her, I could not resist telling her that I loved her with all my heart +and soul."</p> + +<p><i>I</i> began to feel blue. "And what did she say?" I asked, a little +hoarsely.</p> + +<p>"She said she returned my affection."</p> + +<p>I braced up. "Ha, ha, ha!" I laughed. "This time the joke is on you."</p> + +<p>"I fail to see it," he said.</p> + +<p>"Of course," I retorted. "It is not one of your jokes. But say, Harry, +when you send a poem to a magazine and the editor doesn't want it, what +does he do with it?"</p> + +<p>"Returns it. Ah!"</p> + +<p>The "ah" was a gasp.</p> + +<p>"You are the hair-splitter this time," said he, ruefully.</p> + +<p>"I am," said I. "I could effectually destroy a whole wig of hairs like +that. If you are right in your reasoning as to Maude's love for me, I am +right as regards her love for you. We are both splitting hairs in most +unprofitable fashion."</p> + +<p>"We are," said Harry, with a sigh.</p> + +<p>"There is only one way to settle the matter."</p> + +<p>"And that?"</p> + +<p>"Let's call around there now and ask her."</p> + +<p>"I am agreeable," said I.</p> + +<p>"Often," said Harry, ringing for our coats.</p> + +<p>In a few moments we were ready to depart; and as we stepped out into the +night, whom should we run up against but that detestable Jimmie Brown!</p> + +<p>"Whither away, boys?" he asked; in his usual bubblesome manner.</p> + +<p>"We are going to make a call."</p> + +<p>"Ah! Well, wait a minute, won't you? I have some news. I'm in great +luck, and I want you fellows to join me in a health to the future Mrs. +B."</p> + +<p>"Engaged at last, eh, Brown?" said Harry.</p> + +<p>I did not speak, for I felt a sudden and most depressing sinking of the +heart.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Brown; and then he told us to whom.</p> + +<p>It is not necessary to mention the lady's name. Suffice it to say that +Harry and I both returned to our corner in the club, discarded our +overcoats, and talked about two subjects.</p> + +<p>The first was the weather.</p> + +<p>The second, the fickleness of women.</p> + +<p>Incidentally we agreed that there was something irritating about certain +names, and on this occasion James excited our ire somewhat more than was +normal.</p> + +<p>But we did not lick James. We had too much regard for some one else to +split a hair of his head.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="AN_AFFINITIVE_ROMANCE"></a><h2>AN AFFINITIVE ROMANCE</h2> + + +<h3>I</h3> + +<h4>MR. AUGUSTUS RICHARDS'S IDEAL</h4> + +<p>Mr. Augustus Richards was thirty years of age and unmarried. He could +afford to marry, and he had admired many women, but none of them came up +to his ideals. Miss Fotheringay, for instance, represented his notions +as to, what a woman should be physically, but intellectually he found +her wofully below his required standard. She was tall and +stately—Junoesque some people called her—but in her conversation she +was decidedly flippant. She was interested in all the small things of +life, but for the great ones she had no inclination. She preferred a +dance with a callow youth to a chat with a man of learning. She +worshipped artificial in-door life, but had no sympathy with nature. +The country she abominated, and her ideas of rest consisted solely in a +change of locality, which was why she went to Newport every summer, +there to indulge in further routs and dances when she wearied of the +routs and dances of New York.</p> + +<p>Miss Patterson, on the other hand, represented, to the fullest, degree +the intellectual standard Mr. Augustus Richards had set up for the +winner of his affections. She was fond of poetry and of music. She was a +student of letters, and a clever talker on almost all the arts and +sciences in which Mr. Augustus Richards delighted. But, alas! physically +she was not what he could admire. She was small and insignificant in +appearance. She was pallid-faced, and, it must be confessed, extremely +scant, of locks; and the idea, of marrying her was to Mr. Augustus +Richards little short of preposterous. Others, there were, too, who +attracted him in some, measure, but who likewise repelled, him, in +equal, if not greater measure.</p> + +<p>What he wanted, Mrs. Augustus Richards to be was a composite; of the +best in the beautiful Miss Fotheringay, the intellectual Miss +Patterson, the comfortably rich but extremely loud Miss Barrows, with a +dash of the virtues of all the others thrown in.</p> + +<p>For years he looked for such a one, but season after season passed away +and the ideal failed to materialize, as unfortunately most ideals have a +way of doing, and hither and yon Mr. Augustus Richards went unmarried, +and, as society said, a hopelessly confirmed old bachelor—more's the +pity.</p> +<br /> + +<hr style="idth: 45%;"> + +<h3>II</h3> + +<h4>MISS HENDERSON'S STANDARD</h4> + +<p>Miss Flora Henderson was born and bred in Boston, and, like Mr. Augustus +Richards, had reached the age of thirty without having yielded to the +allurements of matrimony. This was not because she had not had the +opportunity, for opportunity she had had in greatest measure. She made +her first appearance in society at the age of seventeen, and for every +year since that interesting occasion she had averaged four proposals of +marriage; and how many proposals that involved, every person who can +multiply thirteen by four can easily discover. Society said she was +stuck up, but she knew she wasn't. She did not reject men for the mere +love of it. It was not vanity that led her to say no to so many adoring +swains; it was simply the fact that not one in all the great number of +would-be protectors represented her notions as to the style of man with +whom she could be so happy that she would undertake the task of making +him so.</p> + +<p>Miles Dawson, for instance, was the kind of man that any ordinary girl +would have snapped up the moment he declared himself. He had three +safe-deposit boxes in town, and there was evidence in sight that he did +not rent them for the purpose of keeping cigars in them. He had several +horses and carriages. He was a regular attendant upon all the social +functions of the season, and at many of them he appeared to enjoy +himself hugely. At the musicals and purely literary entertainments, +however, Miles Dawson always looked,</p> + +<p>as he was, extremely bored. Once Miss Henderson had seen him yawn at a +Shelley reading. He was, in short, of the earth earthy, or perhaps, to +be more accurate, of the horse horsey. Intellectual pleasures were +naught to him but fountains of ennui, and being a very honest, frank +sort of a person, he took no pains to conceal the fact, and it ruined +his chances with Miss Henderson, at whose feet he had more than once +laid the contents of the deposit-boxes—figuratively, of course—as well +as the use of his stables and himself. The fact that he looked like a +Greek god did not influence her in the least; she knew he was by nature +a far cry from anything Greek or godlike, and she would have none of +him.</p> + +<p>Had he had the mental qualities of Henry Webster, the famous scholar of +Cambridge, it might have been different, but he hadn't these any more +than Henry Webster had Dawson's Greek godliness of person.</p> + +<p>As for Webster, he too had laid bare a heart full of affection before +the cold gaze of Miss Flora Henderson, and with no more pleasing results +to himself than had attended the suit of his handsome rival, as he had +considered Dawson.</p> + +<p>"I think I can make you happy," he had said, modestly. "We have many +traits in common. We are both extremely fond of reading of the better +sort. You would prove of inestimable service to me in the advancement of +my ambition in letters, as well as in the educational world, and I think +you would find me by nature responsive to every wish you could have. I +am a lover of music, and so are you. We both delight in the study of +art, and there is in us both that inherent love of nature which would +make of this earth a very paradise for me were you to become my life's +companion."</p> + +<p>Then Miss Flora Henderson had looked upon his stern and extremely homely +face, and had unconsciously even to herself glanced rapidly at his +uncouth figure, and could not bring herself to answer yes. Here was the +intellectual man, but his physical shortcomings forbade the utterance of +the word which should make Henry Webster the happiest of men. Had he +written his proposal he would have stood a better chance, though I +doubt that in any event he could have succeeded. Then he could have +stood at least as an abstract mentality, but the intrusion of his +physical self destroyed all. She refused him, and he went back to his +books, oppressed by an overwhelming sense of loneliness, from which he +did not recover for one or two hours.</p> + +<p>So it went with all the others. No man of all those who sought Miss +Henderson's favor had the godlike grace of Miles Dawson, combined with +the strong intellectuality of Henry Webster, with the added virtues of +wealth and amiability, steadfastness of purpose, and all that. It seemed +sometimes to Miss Flora Henderson, as it had often seemed to Mr. +Augustus Richards, that the standard set was too high, and that an +all-wise Providence was no longer sending the perfect being of the ideal +into the world, if, indeed, He had ever done so.</p> + +<p>Both the man and the woman were yearning, they came finally to believe, +after the unattainable, but each was strong enough of character to do +with nothing less excellent.</p> +<br /> +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + + +<h3>III</h3> + +<h4>A GLANCE AT MISS FLORA HENDERSON HERSELF</h4> + +<p>But what sort of a woman was Miss Flora Henderson, it may be asked, that +she should demand so much in the man with whom she should share the +burdens of life? Surely one should be wellnigh perfect one's self to +require so much of another—and I really think Miss Flora Henderson was +so.</p> + +<p>In the first place, she was tall and stately—Junoesque some people +called her. She had an eye fit for all things. It was soft or hard, as +one wished it. It was melting or fixed, according to the mood one would +have her betray. She was never flippant, and while the small things of +life interested her to an extent, much more absorbed was she in the +great things which pertain to existence. Dance she could, and well, but +she danced not to the exclusion of all other things. With dancing people +she was a dancer full of the poetry of motion, and enjoying it openly +and innocently. With a man of learning, however, she was equally at +home as with the callow youth. With nature in her every mood was she in +sympathy. She was fond of poetry and of music; indeed, to sum up her +character in as few words as possible, she was everything that so +critical a dreamer of the ideal as Mr. Augustus Richards could have +wished for, nor was there one weak spot in the armor of her character at +which he could cavil.</p> + +<p>In short, Miss Flora Henderson, of Boston, was the ideal of whom Mr. +Augustus Richards, of New York, dreamed.</p> +<br /> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<h3>IV</h3> + +<h4>A BRIEF GLIMPSE OF MR. AUGUSTUS RICHARDS</h4> + +<p>And as Miss Flora Henderson represented in every way the ideal of Mr. +Augustus Richards, so did he represent hers. He had the physical beauty +of Miles Dawson, and was quite the equal of the latter in the matter of +wealth. So many, horses he had not, but he owned a sufficient number of +them. He was not horse-mad, nor did he yawn over Shelley or despise +aesthetic pleasures. In truth, in the pursuit of aesthetic delights he +was as eager as Henry Webster. He was in all things the sort of man to +whom our heroine of Boston would have been willing to intrust her hand +and her heart.</p> +<br /> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<h3>V</h3> + +<h4>CONCLUSION</h4> + +<p>But they never met.</p> + +<p>And they lived happily ever after.</p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="MRS_UPTON'S_DEVICE"></a><h2>MRS. UPTON'S DEVICE</h2> + +<h2><i><small>A Tale of Match-Making</small></i></h2> +<br /> + +<h3>I</h3> + +<h4>THE RESOLVE</h4> + +<p class="poetry4">"For when two<br /> +Join in the same adventure, one perceives<br /> +Before the other how they ought to act."<br /> +<br /> +—BRYANT.<br /> + +<p>Mrs. Upton had made up her mind that it must be, and that was the +beginning of the end. The charming match-maker had not indulged her +passion for making others happy, willy-nilly, for some time—not, in +fact, since she had arranged the match between Marie Willoughby and Jack +Hearst, which, as the world knows, resulted first in a marriage, and +then, as the good lady had not foreseen, in a South Dakota divorce. This +unfortunate termination to her well-meant efforts in behalf of the +unhappy pair was a severe blow to Mrs. Upton. She had been for many +years the busiest of match-makers, and seldom had she failed to bring +about desirable results. In the homes of a large number of happy pairs +her name was blessed for all that she had done, and until this no +unhappy marriage had ever come from her efforts. One or two engagements +of her designing had failed to eventuate, owing to complications over +which she had no control, and with which she was in no way concerned; +but that was merely one of the risks of the business in which she was +engaged. The most expert artisan sometimes finds that he has made a +failure of some cherished bit of work, but he does not cease to pursue +his vocation because of that. So it was with Mrs. Upton, and when some +of her plans went askew, and two young persons whom she had designed for +each other chose to take two other young people into their hearts +instead, she accepted the situation with a merely negative feeling of +regret. But when she realized that it was she who had brought Marie +Willoughby and Jack Hearst together, and had, beyond all question, made +the match which resulted so unhappily, then was Mrs. Upton's regret and +sorrow of so positive a nature that she practically renounced her chief +occupation in life.</p> + +<p>"I'll never, never, never, so long as I live, have anything more to do +with bringing about marriages!" she cried, tearfully, to her husband, +when that worthy gentleman showed her a despatch in the evening paper to +the effect that Mr. and Mrs. Jack had invoked the Western courts to free +them from a contract which had grown irksome to both. "I shall not even +help the most despairing lover over a misunderstanding which may result +in two broken hearts. I'm through. The very idea of Marie Willoughby and +Johnny Hearst not being able to get along together is preposterous. Why, +they were made for each other."</p> + +<p>"I haven't a doubt of it," returned Upton, with whom it was a settled +principle of life always to agree with his better half. "But sometimes +there's a flaw in the workmanship, my dear, and while Marie may have +been made for Jack, and Jack for Marie, it is just possible that the +materials were not up to the specifications."</p> + +<p>"Well, it's a burning shame, anyhow," said Mrs. Upton, "and I'll never +make another match."</p> + +<p>"That's good," said Upton. "I wouldn't—or, if I did, I'd see to it that +it was a safety, instead of a fusee that burns fiercely for a minute and +then goes out altogether. Stick to vestas."</p> + +<p>"I don't know what you mean by vestas, but I'm through just the same," +retorted Mrs. Upton; and she really was—for five years.</p> + +<p>"Vestas are nice quiet matches that don't splurge and splutter. They +give satisfaction to everybody. They burn evenly, and are altogether the +swell thing in matches—and their heads don't fly off either," Upton +explained.</p> + +<p>"Well, I won't make even a vesta, you old goose," said Mrs. Upton, +smiling faintly.</p> + +<p>"You've made one, and it's a beauty," observed Upton, quietly, referring +of course to their own case.</p> + +<p>So, as I have said, Mrs. Upton forswore her match-making propensities +for a period of five years, and people noting the fact marvelled +greatly at her strength of character in keeping her hands out of matters +in which they had once done such notable service. And it did indeed +require much force of character in Mrs. Upton to hold herself aloof from +the matrimonial ventures of others; for, although she was now a woman +close upon forty, she had still the feelings of youth; she was fond of +the society of young people, and had been for a long time the +best-beloved chaperon in the community. It was hard for her to watch a +growing romance and not help it along as she had done of yore; and many +a time did her lips withhold the words that trembled upon them—words +which would have furthered the fortunes of a worthy suitor to a waiting +hand—but she had resolved, and there was the end of it.</p> + +<p>It is history, however, that the strongest characters will at times +falter and fall, and so it was with Mrs. Upton and her resolution +finally. There came a time when the pressure was too strong to be +resisted.</p> + +<p>"I can't help it, Henry," she said, as she thought it all over, and saw +wherein her duty lay. "We must bring Molly Meeker and Walter together. +He is just the sort of a man for her; and if there is one thing he needs +more than another to round out his character, it is a wife like Molly."</p> + +<p>"Remember your oath, my deaf," replied Upton.</p> + +<p>"But this will be a vesta, Henry," smiled Mrs. Upton. "Walter and you +are very much alike, and you said the other night that Molly reminded +you of me—sometimes."</p> + +<p>"That's true," said Upton. "She does—that's what I like about her—but, +after all, she isn't you. A mill-pond might remind you at times of a +great and beautiful lake, but it wouldn't be the lake, you know. I grant +that Walter and I are alike as two peas, but I deny that Molly can hold +a candle to you."</p> + +<p>"Oh you!" snapped Mrs. Upton. "Haven't you got your eyes opened to my +faults yet?"</p> + +<p>"Yessum," said Upton. "They're great, and I couldn't get along without +'em, but I wouldn't stand them for five minutes if I'd married Molly +Meeker instead of you. You'd better keep out of this.</p> + +<p>Stick to your resolution. Let Molly choose her own husband, and Walter +his wife. You never can tell how things are going to turn out. Why, I +introduced Willie Timpkins to George Barker at the club one night last +winter, feeling that there were two fellows who were designed by +Providence for the old Damon and Pythias performance, and it wasn't ten +minutes before they were quarrelling like a couple of cats, and every +time they meet nowadays they have to be introduced all over again."</p> + +<p>"I don't wonder at that at all," said Mrs. Upton. "Willie Timpkins is +precisely the same kind of a person that George Barker is, and when they +meet each other and realize that they are exactly alike, and see how +sort of small and mean they really are, it destroys their self-love."</p> + +<p>"I never saw it in that light before," said Upton, reflectively, "but I +imagine you are right. There's lots in that. If a man really wrote down +on paper his candid opinion of himself, he'd have a good case for +slander against the publisher who printed it—I guess."</p> + +<p>"I should think you'd have known better than to bring those two +together, and under the circumstances I don't wonder they hate each +other," said Mrs. Upton.</p> + +<p>"Sympathy ought to count for something," pleaded Upton. "Don't you +think?"</p> + +<p>"Of course," replied Mrs. Upton; "but a man wants to sympathize with the +other fellow, not with himself. If you were a woman you'd understand +that a little better. But to return to Molly and Walter—don't you think +they really were made for each other?"</p> + +<p>"No, I don't," said Upton. "I don't believe that anybody ever was made +for anybody else. On that principle every baby that is born ought to be +labelled: <i>Fragile. Please forward to Soandso</i>. This +'made-for-each-other' business makes me tired. It's predestination all +over again, which is good enough for an express package, but doesn't go +where souls are involved. Suppose that through some circumstance over +which he has no control a Michigan man was made for a Russian girl—how +the deuce is she to get him?"</p> + +<p>"That's all nonsense, Henry," said Mrs. Upton, impatiently.</p> + +<p>"I don't know why," observed Upton. "I can quite understand how a +Michigan man might make a first-rate husband for a Russian girl. Your +idea involves the notion of affinity, and if I know anything about +affinities, they have to go chasing each other through the universe for +cycle after cycle, in the hope of some day meeting—and it's all beastly +nonsense. My affinity might be Delilah, and Samson's your beautiful +self; but I'll tell you, on my own responsibility, that if I had caught +Samson hanging about your father's house during my palmy days I'd have +thrashed the life out of him, whether his hair was short or long, and +don't you forget it, Mrs. Upton."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Upton laughed heartily. "I've no doubt you could have done it, my +dear Henry," said she. "I'd have helped you, anyhow. But affinities or +not, we are, placed here for a certain purpose—"</p> + +<p>"I presume so," said Upton. "I haven't found out what it is, but I'm +satisfied."</p> + +<p>"Yes—and so am I. Now," continued Mrs. Upton, "I think that we all +ought to help each other along. Whether I am your affinity or not, or +whether you are mine—"</p> + +<p>"I <i>am</i> yours—for keeps, too," said Upton. "I shall be just as +attentive in heaven, where marriage is not recognized, as I am here, if +I hang for it."</p> + +<p>"Well—however that may be, we have this life to live, and we should go +about it in the best way possible. Now I believe that Walter will be +more of a man, will accomplish more in the end, if he marries Molly than +he will as a bachelor, or if he married—Jennie Perkins, for instance, +who is so much of a manly woman that she has no sympathy with either +sex."</p> + +<p>"Right!" said Upton.</p> + +<p>"You like Walter, don't you, and want him to succeed?"</p> + +<p>"I do."</p> + +<p>"You realize that, an unmarried physician hasn't more than half a +chance?"</p> + +<p>"Unfortunately yes," said Upton. "Though I don't agree that a man can +cut your leg off more, expertly or carry you through the measles more +successfully just because he has happened to get married. As a matter +of fact, when I have my leg cut off I want it to be done by a man who +hasn't been kept awake all night by the squalling of his lately arrived +son."</p> + +<p>"Nevertheless," said Mrs. Upton, "society decrees that a doctor needs a +wife to round him out. There's no disputing that fact—and it is +perfectly proper. Bachelors may know all about the science of medicine, +and make a fair showing in surgery, but it isn't until a man is married +that he becomes the wholly successful practitioner who inspires +confidence."</p> + +<p>"I suppose it's so," said Upton. "No doubt of it. A man who has suffered +always does do better—"</p> + +<p>"Henry!" ejaculated Mrs. Upton, severely. "Remember this: I didn't marry +you because I thought you were a cynic. Now Walter as a young physician +needs a wife—"</p> + +<p>"I suppose he's got to have somebody to confide professional secrets +to," said Upton.</p> + +<p>"That may be the reason for it," observed Mrs. Upton; "but whatever the +reason, it is a fact. He needs a wife, and I propose that he shall have +one; and it is very important that he should get the right one."</p> + +<p>"Are you going to propose to the girl in his behalf?" queried Henry.</p> + +<p>"No; but I think he's a man of sense, and I know Molly is. Now I propose +to bring them together, and to throw them at each other's heads in such +a way that they won't either of them guess that I am doing it—"</p> + +<p>"Now, my dear," interrupted Upton, "don't! Don't try any throwing. You +know as well as I do that no woman can throw straight. If you throw +Molly Meeker at Walter's head—"</p> + +<p>"I may strike his heart. Precisely!" said Mrs. Upton, triumphantly. "And +that's all I want. Then we shall have a beautiful wedding," she added, +with enthusiasm. "We'll give a little dinner on the 18th—a nice +informal dinner. We'll invite the Jacksons and the Peltons and Molly and +Walter. They will meet, fall in love like sensible people, and there you +are."</p> + +<p>"I guess it's all right," said Upton, "though to fall in love sensibly +isn't possible, my dear. What people who get married ought to do is to +fall unreasonably, madly in love—"</p> + +<p>But Mrs. Upton did not listen. She was already at her escritoire, +writing the invitations for the little dinner.</p> +<br /> +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<h3>II</h3> + +<h4>A SUCCESSFUL CASE</h4> + +<p class="poetry4">"The pleasantest angling is to see the fish<br /> +...greedily devour the treacherous bait."<br /> +—<i>Much Ado about Nothing</i>.<br /></p> + +<p>The invitations to Mrs. Upton's little dinner were speedily despatched +by the strategic maker of matches, and, to her great delight, were one +and all accepted with commendable promptness, as dinner invitations are +apt to be. The night came, and with it came also the unsuspecting young +doctor and the equally unsuspicious Miss Meeker. Everything was +charming. The Jacksons were pleased with the Peltons, and the Peltons +were pleased with the Jacksons, and, best of all, Walter was pleased +with Miss Meeker, while she was not wholly oblivious to his existence. +She even quoted something he happened to say at the table, after the +ladies had retired, leaving the men to their cigars, and had added that +"<i>that</i> was the way she liked to hear a man talk"—all of which was very +encouraging to the well-disposed spider who was weaving the web for +these two particular flies. As for Bliss—Walter Bliss, M.D.—he was +very much impressed; so much so, indeed, that as the men left their +cigars to return to the ladies he managed to whisper into Upton's ear,</p> + +<p>"Rather bright girl that, Henry."</p> + +<p>"Very," said Upton. "Sensible, too. One of those bachelor girls who've +got too much sense to think much about men. Pity, rather, in a way, too. +She'd make a good wife, but, Lord save us! it would require an Alexander +or a Napoleon to make love to her."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know," said Bliss, confidently. "If the right man came +along—"</p> + +<p>"Of course; but there aren't many right men," said Upton. "I've no doubt +there's somebody equal to the occasion somewhere, but with the +population of the world at the present figures there's a billion chances +to one she'll never meet him. What do you think of the financial +situation, Walter? Pretty bad, eh?"</p> + +<p>Thus did the astute Mr. Upton play the cards dealt out to him by his +fairer half in this little game of hearts of her devising, and it is a +certain fact that he played them well, for the interjection of a more or +less political phase into their discussion rather whetted than otherwise +the desire of Dr. Bliss to talk about Miss Meeker.</p> + +<p>"Oh, hang the financial situation! Where does she live, Henry?" was +Bliss's answer, from which Upton deduced that all was going well.</p> + +<p>That his deductions were correct was speedily shown, for it was not many +days before Mrs. Upton, with a radiant face, handed Upton a note from +Walter asking her if she would not act as chaperon for a little sail on +the Sound upon his sloop. He thought a small party of four, consisting +of herself and Henry, Miss Meeker and himself, could have a jolly +afternoon and evening of it, dining on board in true picnic fashion, and +returning to earth in the moonlight.</p> + +<p>"How do you like that, my lord?" she inquired, her eyes beaming with +delight.</p> + +<p>"Dreadful!" said Henry. "Got to the moonlight stage already—poor +Bliss!"</p> + +<p>"Poor Bliss indeed," retorted Mrs. Upton. "Blissful Bliss, you ought to +call him. Shall we go?"</p> + +<p>"Shall we go?" echoed Upton. "If I fell off the middle of Brooklyn +Bridge, would I land in the water?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," laughed Mrs. Upton. "You might drop into the smoke-stack +of a ferry-boat."</p> + +<p>"Of course we'll go," said Upton. "I'd go yachting with my worst enemy."</p> + +<p>"Very well. I'll accept," said Mrs. Upton, and she did. The sail was a +great success, and everything went exactly as the skilful match-maker +had wished. Bliss looked well in his yachting suit. The appointments of +the yacht were perfect. The afternoon was fine, the supper entrancing, +and the moonlight irresistible. Miss Meeker was duly impressed, and as +for the doctor, as Upton put it, he was "going down for the third time."</p> + +<p>"If you aren't serious in this match, my dear, throw him a rope," he +pleaded, in his friend's behalf.</p> + +<p>"He wouldn't avail himself of it if I did," said Mrs. Upton. "He wants +to drown—and I fancy Molly wants him to, too, because I can't get her +to mention his name any more."</p> + +<p>"Is that a sign?" asked Upton.</p> + +<p>"Indeed yes; if she talked about him all the time I should be afraid she +wasn't quite as deeply in love as I want her to be. She's only a woman, +you know, Henry. If she were a man, it would be different."</p> + +<p>The indications were verified by the results. August came, and Mrs. +Upton invited Miss Meeker to spend the month at the Uptons' summer +cottage at Skirton, and Bliss was asked up for "a day or two" while she +was there.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it a little dangerous, my dear?" Upton asked, when his wife asked +him to extend the hospitality of the cottage to Bliss. "I should think +twice before asking Walter to come."</p> + +<p>"How absurd you are!" retorted the match-maker. "What earthly objection +can there be?"</p> + +<p>"No objection at all," returned Upton, "but it may destroy all your good +work. It will be a terrible test for Walter, I am afraid—breakfast, for +instance, is a fearful ordeal for most men. They are so apt to be at +their very worst at breakfast, and it might happen that Walter could not +stand the strain upon him through a series of them. Then Molly may not +look well in the mornings. How is that? Is she like you—always at her +best?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Upton replied with a smile. It was evident that she did not +consider the danger very great.</p> + +<p>"They might as well get used to seeing each other at breakfast," she +said. "If they find they don't admire each other at that time, it is +just as well they should know it in advance."</p> + +<p>Hence it was, as I have said, that Bliss was invited to Skirton for a +day or two. And the day or two, in the most natural way in the world, +lengthened out into a week or two. There were walks and talks; there +were drives and long horseback rides along shaded mountain roads, and +when it rained there were mornings in the music-room together. Bliss was +good-natured at breakfast, and Molly developed a capacity for appearing +to advantage at that trying meal that aroused Upton's highest regard; +and finally—well, finally Miss Molly Meeker whispered something into +Mrs. Upton's ear, at which the latter was so overjoyed that she nearly +hugged her young friend to death.</p> + +<p>"Here, my dear, look out," remonstrated Upton, who happened to be +present. "Don't take it all. Perhaps she wants to live long enough to +whisper something to me."</p> + +<p>"I do," said Molly, and then she announced her engagement to Walter +Bliss; and she did it so sweetly that Upton had all he could do to keep +from manifesting his approval after the fashion adopted by his wife.</p> + +<p>"I wish I was a literary man," said Upton to his wife the next day, when +they were talking over the situation. "If I knew how to write I'd make a +fortune, I believe, just following up the little romances that you +plan."</p> + +<p>"Oh, nonsense, Henry," replied Mrs. Upton. "I don't plan any romances—I +select certain people for each other and bring them together, that is +all."</p> + +<p>"And push 'em along—prod 'em slightly when they don't seem to get +started, eh?" insinuated Upton.</p> + +<p>"Well, yes—sometimes."</p> + +<p>"And what else does a novelist do? He picks out two people, brings them +together, and pushes them along through as many chapters as he needs for +his book," said Henry. "That's all. Now if I could follow your couples +I'd have a tremendous advantage in basing my studies on living models +instead of having to imagine my realism. I repeat I wish I could write. +This little romance of Mollie and Walter that has just ended—"</p> + +<p>"Just what?" asked Mrs. Upton.</p> + +<p>"Just ended," repeated Upton. "What's the matter with that?"</p> + +<p>"You mean just begun," said Mrs. Upton, with a sigh. "The hardest work a +match-maker has is in conducting the campaign after the nominations are +made. When two people love each other madly, they are apt to do a great +deal of quarrelling over absolutely nothing, and I'm not at all sure +that an engagement means marriage until the ceremony has taken place."</p> + +<p>"And even then," suggested Henry, "there are the divorce courts, eh?"</p> + +<p>"We won't refer to them," said Mrs.</p> + +<p>Upton, severely; "they are relics of barbarism. But as for the ending +of my romance, my real work now begins. I must watch those two young +people carefully and see that their little quarrels are smoothed over, +their irritations allayed, and that every possible difference between +them is adjusted."</p> + +<p>"But you and I didn't quarrel when we were engaged," persisted Upton.</p> + +<p>"No, we didn't, Henry," replied Mrs. Upton. "But that was only because +it takes two to make a quarrel, and I loved you so much that I was +really blind to all your possibilities as an irritant."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said Henry, reflectively.</p> +<br /> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<h3>III</h3> + +<h4>A SET-BACK</h4> + +<p class="poetry4">"All is confounded, all!<br /> +Reproach and everlasting shame<br /> +Sits mocking in our plumes."<br /> +—<i>Henry V</i>.</p> + +<p>Time demonstrated with great effectiveness the unhappy fact that Mrs. +Upton knew whereof she spoke when she likened an engagement to a +political campaign, in that the real battle begins after the nominations +are made. Walter Bliss had decided views as to life, and Miss Meeker was +hardly less settled in her convictions. Long before she had met Bliss, +in default of a real she had builded up in her mind an ideal man, which +at first, second, and even third sight Walter had seemed to her to +represent. But unfortunately there is a fourth sight, and the lover or +the <i>fiancée</i> who can get beyond this is safe—comparatively safe, that +is, for everything in this world has its merits or its demerits, +comparatively speaking, and the comparison is more often than not made +from the point of view of what ought to be rather than of what really +is. Mrs. Upton was a realist—that is, she thought she was; and so was +Miss Meeker. Everybody looks at life from his or her own point of view, +and there must always be, consequently, two points of view, for there +will always be a male way and a female way of looking at things. Walter +was in love with his profession. Molly was in love with him as an +abstract thing. She knew nothing of him as a Washington fighting +measles; she was not aware whether he could combat tonsillitis as +successfully as Napoleon fought the Austrians or not, and it may be +added that she didn't care. He was merely a man in her estimation; a +thing in the abstract, and a most charming thing on the whole. He, on +the other hand, looked upon her not as a woman, but as a soul, and a +purified soul at that: an angel, indeed, without the incumbrance of +wings, was she, and with a rather more comprehensive knowledge of dress +than is attributed to most of angels. But two people cannot go on +forming an ideal of each other continuously without at some time +reaching a point of divergence, and Walter and Molly reached that point +within ten weeks. It happened that while calling upon her one evening +Walter received a professional summons which he admitted was all +nonsense—why should people call in doctors when it is "all nonsense"?</p> + +<p>The call came while Walter was turning over the leaves at the piano as +Molly played.</p> + +<p>"What is this?" he said, as he opened the note that was addressed to him. "Humph! Mrs. Hubbard's boy is +sick—"</p> + +<p>"Must you go?" Molly asked.</p> + +<p>"I suppose so," said Walter. "I saw him this afternoon, and there is not +the slightest thing the matter with him, but I must go."</p> + +<p>"Why?" asked Molly. "Are you the kind of doctor they call in when +there's nothing the matter?"</p> + +<p>She did not mean to be sarcastic, but she seemed to be, and Walter, of +course, like a properly sensitive soul, was hurt.</p> + +<p>"I must go," he said, positively, ignoring the thrust.</p> + +<p>"But you say there is nothing the matter with the boy," suggested Molly.</p> + +<p>"I'm going just the same," said Walter, and he went.</p> + +<p>Molly played on at the piano until she heard the front door slam, and +then she rose up and went to the window. Walter had gone and was out of +sight. Then, sad to say, she became philosophical. It doesn't really pay +for girls to become philosophical, but Molly did not know that, and she +began a course of reasoning.</p> + +<p>"He knows he isn't needed, but he goes," she said to herself, as she +gazed dejectedly out of the window at the gaslamps on the other side of +the street. "And he will of course charge the Hubbards for his services, +admitting, however, that his services are nothing. That is not +conscientious—it is not professional. He is not practising for the love +of his profession, but for the love of money. I am disappointed in +him—and we were having such a pleasant time, too!"</p> + +<p>So she ran on as she sat there in the window-seat looking out upon the +dreary street; and you may be sure that the commingling of her ideals +and her disappointments and her sense of loneliness did not help +Walter's case in the least, and that when they met the next time her +manner towards him was what some persons term "sniffy," which was a +manner Walter could not and would not abide. Hence a marked coolness +arose between the two, which by degrees became so intensified that at +about the time when Mrs. Upton was expected to be called in to assist at +a wedding, she was stunned by the information that "all was over between +them."</p> + +<p>"Just think of that, Henry," the good match-maker cried, wrathfully. +"All is over between them, and Molly pretends she is glad of it."</p> + +<p>"Made for each other too!" ejaculated Upton, with a mock air of sorrow. +"What was the matter?"</p> + +<p>"I can't make out exactly," observed Mrs. Upton. "Molly told me all +about it, and it struck me as a merely silly lovers' quarrel, but she +won't hear of a reconciliation. She says she finds she was mistaken in +him. I wish you'd find out Walter's version of it."</p> + +<p>"I respectfully refuse, my dear Mrs. Upton," returned Henry. "I'm not a +partner in your enterprise, and if you get a misfit couple returned on +your hands it is your lookout, not mine. Pity, isn't it, that you can't +manage matters like a tailor? Suit of clothes is made for me, I try it +on, don't like it, send it back and have it changed to fit. If you could +make a few alterations now in Molly—"</p> + +<p>"Henry, you are flippant," asserted Mrs. Upton. "There's nothing the +matter with Molly—not the least little thing; and Walter ought to be +ashamed of himself to give her up, and I'm going to see that he +doesn't. I believe a law ought to be made, anyhow, requiring engaged +persons who want to break off to go into court and show cause why they +shouldn't be enjoined from so doing."</p> + +<p>"A sort of antenuptial divorce law, eh?" suggested Upton. "That's not a +bad idea; you ought to write to the papers and suggest it—using your +maiden name, of course, not mine."</p> + +<p>"If you would only find out from Walter what he's mad at, and tell him +he's an idiot and a heartless thing, maybe we could smooth it out, +because I know that 'way down in her soul Molly loves him."</p> + +<p>"Very well, I'll do it," said Upton, good-naturedly; "but mind you it's +only to oblige you, and if Bliss throws me out of the club window for +meddling in his affairs, it will be your fault."</p> + +<p>The doctor did not quite throw Upton out of the window that afternoon +when the subject came up, but he did the next thing to it. He turned +upon him, and with much gravity remarked: "Upton, I'll talk politics, +finance, medicine, surgery, literature, or neck-ties with you, but under +no circumstances will I talk about woman with anybody. I prefer a topic +concerning which it is possible occasionally to make an intelligent +surmise at least. Woman is as comprehensible to a finite mind as chaos. +Who's your tailor?"</p> + +<p>"You ought to have seen us when he said that," observed Upton to his +wife, as he told her about the interview at dinner that evening. "He was +as solemn as an Alp, and apparently as immovable as the Sphinx; and as +for me, I simply withered on my stalk and crumbled away into dust. +Wherefore, my love, I am through; and hereafter if you are going to make +matches for my friends and need outside help, get a hired man to help +you. I'm did. If I were you I'd let 'em go their own way, and if their +lives are spoiled, why, your conscience is clear either way."</p> + +<p>But Mrs. Upton had no sympathy with any such view as that. She had been +so near to victory that she was not going to surrender now without one +more charge. She tried a little sounding of Bliss herself, and finally +asked him point-blank if he would take dinner with herself and Upton and +Molly and make it up, and he declined absolutely; and it was just as +well, for when Molly heard of it she asserted that she had no doubt it +would have been a pleasant dinner, but that nothing could have induced +her to go. She never wished to see Dr. Bliss again—not even +professionally. Mrs. Upton was gradually becoming utterly discouraged. +The only hopeful feature of the situation was that there were no +"alternates" involved. Bliss was done forever with woman; Miss Meeker +had never cared for any man but Walter. Time passed, and the lovers were +adamant in their determination never to see each other again. Repeated +efforts to bring them together failed, until Mrs. Upton was in despair. +It is always darkest, however, just before dawn, and it finally happened +that just as hopelessness was beginning to take hold of Mrs. Upton's +heart her great device came to her.</p> +<br /> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<h3>IV</h3> + +<h4>THE DEVICE</h4> + +<p class="poetry4">"Music arose with its voluptuous swell,<br /> +And all went merry as a marriage bell."<br /> +—<i>Childe Harold</i>.</p> + +<p>"Henry," said Mrs. Upton, one cold January morning, a great light of +possibilities dawning upon her troubled soul, "don't you want to take me +to the opera next Saturday? Calvé is to sing in 'Cavalleria,' and I am +very anxious to hear her again."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry, but I can't," Upton answered. "I have an engagement with +Bliss at the club on Saturday. We're going to take lunch and finish up +our billiard tournament. I've got a lead of forty points."</p> + +<p>"Oh! Well, then, get me two seats, and I'll take Molly," said the astute +match-maker. "And never mind about their being aisle seats. I prefer +them in the middle of the row, so that everybody won't be climbing over +us when they go out and in."</p> + +<p>"All right; I will," said Henry, and the seats were duly procured.</p> + +<p>Saturday came, and Upton went to the club, according to his appointment +with Walter; but Bliss was not there, nor had he sent any message of +explanation. Upton waited until three o'clock, and still the doctor came +not; and finally he left the club and sauntered up the Avenue to his +house, calling down the while imprecations upon the absent Walter.</p> + +<p>"Hang these doctors!" he said, viciously. "They seem to think +professional engagements are the only ones worth keeping. Off in his +game, I fancy. That's the milk in the cocoanut."</p> + +<p>Five minutes later he entered his library, and was astonished to see +Mrs. Upton there reading.</p> + +<p>"Why, hullo! You here?" he said. "I thought you were at the opera."</p> + +<p>"No, I didn't go," Mrs. Upton replied, with a smile.</p> + +<p>"There seems to be something in the air that prevents people from +keeping their engagements to-day. Bliss didn't turn up," said Henry. +"What did you do with the tickets?"</p> + +<p>"I sent Molly hers by messenger, and told her I'd join her at the +opera-house," said Mrs. Upton, her face beaming. "Did you say Walter +didn't go to the club?" she added, anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Yes. He's a great fellow, he is! Got no more idea about sticking to an +engagement than a cat," said Upton. "Afraid of my forty points, I +imagine."</p> + +<p>"Possibly; but maybe this will account for it," said Mrs. Upton, with a +sigh of relief, which hardly seemed necessary under the circumstances, +handing her husband a note.</p> + +<p>"What's this?" asked Upton, scanning the address upon the envelope.</p> + +<p>"A note—from Walter," Mrs. Upton replied. "Read it."</p> + +<p>And Upton read as follows:</p> + +<p class="right-letter">"SATURDAY MORNING, <i>January</i>—, 189-.</p> + +<p class="letter">"MY DEAR MRS. UPTON,—<br />I am sorry to hear +that Henry is called away, but there are compensations. +If I cannot take luncheon with him, +it will give me the greatest pleasure to listen to +Calvé in your company. I may be a trifle late, +but I shall most certainly avail myself of your +kind thought of me.</p> + + +<p class="right-letter">"Yours faithfully,</p> +<p class="right-letter">"WALTER BLISS."</p> + +<p>"What the deuce is this?" asked Upton. "I called away? Who said I was +called away?"</p> + +<p>"I did," said Mrs. Upton, pursing her lips to keep from indulging in a +smile. "As soon as you left this morning I wrote Walter a note, telling +him that you had been hurriedly called to Philadelphia on business, and +that you'd asked me to let him know, not having time to do it yourself. +And I closed by saying that we had two seats for 'Cavalleria,' and that, +as my expected guest had disappointed me, I hoped he might come in if he +felt like it during the afternoon and hear Calvé. That's his answer. I +enclosed him the ticket."</p> + +<p>"So that—" said Upton, beginning to comprehend.</p> + +<p>"So that Molly and Walter are at the opera together. Hemmed in on both +sides, so that they can't escape, with the Intermezzo before them!" said +Mrs. Upton, with an air of triumph which was beautiful to look upon.</p> + +<p>"Well, you are a genius!" cried Upton, finding his wife's enthusiasm +contagious. "I'm almost afraid of you!"</p> + +<p>"And you don't think I did wrong to fib?" asked Mrs. Upton.</p> + +<a name="IMG_DURING_THE_INTERMEZZO"></a><img src="002.png" align="left" alt="DURING THE INTERMEZZO."> + +<p>"Oh, as for that," said Upton, "all geniuses lie! An abnormal +development in one direction always indicates an abnormal lack of +development in another. Your bump of ingenuity has for the moment +absorbed your bump of veracity; but I say, my dear, I wonder if they'll +speak?"</p> + +<p>"Speak?" echoed Mrs. Upton. "Speak? Why, of course they will! Everybody +talks at the opera," she added, joyously.</p> + +<p>An hour later the door-bell rang, and the maid announced Miss Meeker and +Dr. Bliss. They entered radiant, and not in the least embarrassed.</p> + +<p>"Why, how do you do?" said Upton, as calmly as though nothing had +happened. "Didn't see you at the club," he added, with a sly wink at his +wife.</p> + +<p>"Thought you were out of town," said Bliss; and then he turned and +glanced inquiringly at the lovely deceiver. But Mrs. Upton said nothing. +She was otherwise engaged; for Molly, upon entering the room, had walked +directly to her side, and throwing her arms about her neck, kissed her +several times most affectionately.</p> + +<p>"You dear old thing!" she whispered.</p> + +<p>"Mrs.—Upton—I'm very much obliged to you for a very pleasant +afternoon," stammered Bliss, recovering from his surprise, the true +inwardness of the situation dawning upon him, "as well as for—a good +many pleasant afternoons to come. I--- ah—I didn't see—ah—Molly until +I got seated."</p> + +<p>"No," said Molly; "and if he could have gotten away without disturbing a +lot of people, I think he'd have gone when he realized where he was. And +he wouldn't speak until the Intermezzo was half through."</p> + +<p>"Well, I tried hard not to even then," said Walter; "but somehow or +other, when the Intermezzo got going, I couldn't help it, and—well, +it's to be next month."</p> + +<p>And so it was. The wedding took place six weeks later; and all through +the service the organist played the Intermezzo in subdued tones, which +some people thought rather peculiar—but then they were not aware of all +the circumstances.</p> +<br /> + +<h2>THE END</h2> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Booming of Acre Hill, by John Kendrick Bangs + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BOOMING OF ACRE HILL *** + +***** This file should be named 11309-h.htm or 11309-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/1/3/0/11309/ + +Produced by Audrey Longhurst, Michael Ciesielski and PG Distributed +Proofreaders + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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