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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 02:19:28 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 02:19:28 -0700 |
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diff --git a/25927-h/25927-h.htm b/25927-h/25927-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..082f5d3 --- /dev/null +++ b/25927-h/25927-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3783 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Christmas Story From David Harum, + by Edward Noyes Westcott. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .pix_title {width: 600px;} + .left {text-align: left; text-indent: 0;} + .center_pix {margin: 0 auto; text-indent: 0;} + + img.floatLeft {float: left; margin: 4px;} + + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Christmas Story from David Harum, by +Edward Noyes Westcott + +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 Christmas Story from David Harum + +Author: Edward Noyes Westcott + +Release Date: June 29, 2008 [EBook #25927] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHRISTMAS STORY FROM DAVID HARUM *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Bruce Thomas and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_i" id="Page_i"></a></span></p> + +<p class='center'><img src="images/cover.jpg" width="335" height="550" alt="cover" /></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_ii" id="Page_ii"></a></span></p> +<p><a name="Illustration_WM_H_CRANE_as_DAVID_HARUM" + id="Illustration_WM_H_CRANE_as_DAVID_HARUM"></a></p> +<p class='center'><img src="images/frontis.jpg" width="358" height="550" alt="WM. H. CRANE as DAVID HARUM" /><br /> +<span class="smcap">WM. H. CRANE as DAVID HARUM</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p class='center'><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii"></a></span> + +<span><i>WM. H. CRANE EDITION</i></span><br /><br /> + +<span>THE</span><br /> + +<span>CHRISTMAS STORY FROM</span><br /> + +<span>DAVID HARUM</span><br /> + +<span>By</span><br /> + +<span>Edward Noyes Westcott</span><br /><br /> + +<span>ILLUSTRATED FROM MR. CHARLES FROHMAN'S</span><br /> +<span>PRODUCTION OF DAVID HARUM.</span><br /> +<span>A COMEDY DRAMATIZED FROM THE NOVEL</span><br /><br /><br /> + +<span><img src="images/logo.png" width="100" height="118" alt="logo" /></span><br /><br /><br /><br /> + +<span>NEW YORK</span><br /> + +<span>D. APPLETON AND COMPANY</span><br /> + +<span>1900</span><br /><br /> +</p> + +<hr style="width: 35%;" /> + +<p class='center'> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv"></a></span> + +<span>Copyright, 1898, 1900,</span><br /> + +<span>By <span class="smcap">D. Appleton and Company.</span> + </span><br /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v"></a></span><br /> + + <span><i>All rights reserved.</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<hr style="width: 35%;" /> + +<p class='center'><img src="images/v.png" width="550" height="182" alt="header decoration" /></p> + +<h2><a name="PREFACE" id="PREFACE"></a>PREFACE</h2> + +<p><img src="images/d.png" class="floatLeft" width="150" height="170" alt="Capital I" /><br />ave done the thing his own +way," said Aunt Polly to the +Widow Cullom. "Kind o' +fetched it round fer a merry Chris'mus, +didn't he?"</p> + +<p>This is the story which is reprinted here +from Mr. Westcott's famous book. It was +David Harum's nature to do things in his own +way, and the quaintness of his methods in +raising the Widow Cullom from the depths of +despair to the heights of happiness frame a +story which is read between laughter and +tears, and always with a quickening of affection +for the great-hearted benefactor. David +Harum's absolute originality, his unexpectedness, +the dryness of his humor, the shrewdness +of his insight, and the kindliness and + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi"></a></span> + +generosity beneath the surface, have made +him a permanent figure in literature. Moreover, +the individual quality of David Harum +is so distinctively American that he has been +recognized as the typical American, typical of +an older generation, perhaps, in mere externals, +but nevertheless an embodiment of characteristics +essentially national. While only Mr. +Westcott's complete book can fully illustrate +the personality of David Harum, yet it is +equally true that no other episode in the book +presents the tenderness and quaintness, and +the full quality of David Harum's character, +with the richness and pathos of the story +which tells how he paid the "int'rist" upon +the "cap'tal" invested by Billy P. Fortunately +this story lends itself readily to separate +publication, and it forms an American +"Christmas Carol" which stands by itself, an +American counterpart of the familiar tale of +Dickens, and imbued with a simplicity, +humor, and unstudied pathos peculiarly its +own.</p> + +<p>The difference between the written and +the acted tale is illustrated in the use made +of the Christmas story in the play. In the +book David tells John Lenox the story of the +Widow Cullom and her dealings with 'Zeke + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii"></a></span> + +Swinney, and reveals the truth to her in his +office, and the dinner which follows at his +house is prolonged by his inimitable tales. In +the play action takes the place of description. +In the first act we see 'Zeke Swinney obtaining +blood-money from the widow, and the +latter makes the acquaintance of Mary Blake, +newly entered upon her career of independence +as Cordelia Prendergast. In the second +act we see the widow giving the second +mortgage to David, and thereby strengthening +Mary Blake's suspicions, and in the third +act David pictures his dreary youth and Billy +P.'s act of kindness, and brings the widow to +her own, the climax coming with the toast +which opens the dinner and closes the play. +It was a delicate and difficult task for even so +distinguished an actor as Mr. Crane to undertake +a part already hedged about by conflicting +theories; but his insight and his devotion +to the character have succeeded in actually +placing before us the David Harum created by +Mr. Westcott.</p> + +<p>The illustrations of this book, reproduced +from stage photographs by the courtesy of +Mr. Charles Frohman, include the best pictures +of Mr. Crane in character, and also stage +views of scenes in the second and third acts, + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii"></a></span> + +which show the development and culmination +of the Widow Cullom episode. The Christmas +Story is now published separately for +the first time in this volume, which unites a +permanent literary value with the peculiar +interest of Mr. Crane's interpretations of the +famous character.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>After many discouragements, the author of +David Harum lived long enough to know that +his book had found appreciation and was to +be published, but he died before it appeared.</p> + +<p>Edward Noyes Westcott, the son of Dr. +Amos Westcott, a prominent physician of +Syracuse, and at one time mayor of the city, +was born September 27, 1846. Nearly all his +life was passed in his native city of Syracuse. +His active career began early at a bank clerk's +desk, and he was afterward teller and cashier, +then head of the firm of Westcott & Abbott, +bankers and brokers, and in his later years he +acted as the registrar and financial expert of +the Syracuse Water Commission. His artistic +temperament found expression only in music +until the last years of his life. He wrote +articles occasionally upon financial subjects, +but it was not until the approach of his last +illness that he began David Harum. No character + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix"></a></span> + +in this book is taken directly from life. +Stories which his father had told and his own +keen observations and lively imagination furnished +his material, but neither David Harum +nor any other character is a copy of any individual. +No trace of the author's illness +appears in the book. "I've had the fun of +writing it, anyway," he wrote shortly before +his death, "and no one will laugh over David +more than I have. I never could tell what +David was going to do next." This was +the spirit of the brave and gentle author, +who died March 31, 1898, unconscious of the +fame which was to follow him.</p> + +<p style="text-align: right; margin-right: 1em;">R. H.</p> + +<p style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">New York</span>, <i>August, 1900.</i><br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<p class='center'><img src="images/ix.png" width="200" height="134" alt="decoration" /></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1"></a></span></p> + +<p class='center'><img src="images/001.png" width="600" height="96" alt="Header" /><br /><br /><br /></p> + +<h1>The Christmas Story<br /> +from David Harum<br /><br /><br /></h1> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<p><img src="images/cap_i.png" class="floatLeft" width="150" height="170" alt="Capital I" /><br />t was the 23d of December, +and shortly after the closing +hour. Peleg had departed +and our friend had just locked +the vault when David came +into the office and around behind the counter.</p> + +<p>"Be you in any hurry?" he asked.</p> + +<p>John said he was not, whereupon Mr. +Harum hitched himself up on to a high office +stool, with his heels on the spindle, and +leaned sideways upon the desk, while John +stood facing him with his left arm upon the +desk.</p> + +<p>"John," said David, "do ye know the +Widdo' Cullom?"</p> + +<p>"No," said John, "but I know who she +is—a tall, thin woman, who walks with a +slight stoop and limp. I noticed her and +asked her name because there was something +about her looks that attracted my attention—as + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2"></a></span> + +though at some time she might have seen +better days."</p> + +<p>"That's the party," said David. "She +has seen better days, but she's eat an' drunk +sorro' mostly fer goin' on thirty year, an' +darned little else a good share o' the time, I +reckon."</p> + +<p>"She has that appearance certainly," said +John.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," said David, "she's had a putty +tough time, the widdo' has, an' yet," he proceeded +after a momentary pause, "the' was a +time when the Culloms was some o' the kingpins +o' this hull region. They used to own +quarter o' the county, an' they lived in the +big house up on the hill where Doc Hays lives +now. That was considered to be the finest +place anywheres 'round here in them days. +I used to think the Capitol to Washington +must be somethin' like the Cullom house, an' +that Billy P. (folks used to call him Billy P. +'cause his father's name was William an' his +was William Parker), an' that Billy P. 'd jest +'s like 's not be president. I've changed my +mind some on the subject of presidents since +I was a boy."</p> + +<p>Here Mr. Harum turned on his stool, put +his right hand into his sack-coat pocket, extracted + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3"></a></span> + +therefrom part of a paper of "Maple +Dew," and replenished his left cheek with an +ample wad of "fine-cut." John took advantage +of the break to head off what he had +reason to fear might turn into a lengthy +digression from the matter in hand by saying, +"I beg pardon, but how does it happen that +Mrs. Cullom is in such circumstances? Has +the family all died out?"</p> + +<p>"Wa'al," said David, "they're most on +'em dead, all on 'em, in fact, except the widdo's +son Charley, but as fur's the family's +concerned, it more 'n <i>died</i> out—it <i>gin</i> out! +'D ye ever hear of Jim Wheton's calf? Wa'al, +Jim brought three or four veals into town one +spring to sell. Dick Larrabee used to peddle +meat them days. Dick looked 'em over an' +says, 'Look here, Jim,' he says, 'I guess you +got a "deakin" in that lot,' he says. 'I +dunno what you mean,' says Jim. 'Yes, ye +do, goll darn ye!' says Dick, 'yes, ye do. +You didn't never kill that calf, an' you know +it. That calf died, that's what that calf done. +Come, now, own up,' he says. 'Wa'al,' says +Jim, 'I didn't <i>kill</i> it, an' it didn't <i>die</i> nuther—it +jes' kind o' <i>gin out</i>.'"</p> + +<p>John joined in the laugh with which the +narrator rewarded his own effort, and David + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4"></a></span> + +went on: "Yes, sir, they jes' petered out. +Old Billy, Billy P.'s father, inher'tid all the +prop'ty—never done a stroke of work in his +life. He had a collige education, went to +Europe, an' all that, an' before he was fifty +year old he hardly ever come near the old +place after he was growed up. The land was +all farmed out on shares, an' his farmers +mostly bamboozled him the hull time. He +got consid'able income, of course, but as +things went along and they found out how +slack he was they kept bitin' off bigger chunks +all the time, an' sometimes he didn't git even +the core. But all the time when he wanted +money—an' he wanted it putty often, I tell ye—the +easiest way was to stick on a morgige; +an' after a spell it got so 't he'd have to give +a morgige to pay the int'rist on the other +morgiges."</p> + +<p>"But," said John, "was there nothing to +the estate but land?"</p> + +<p class='center'><img src="images/005.jpg" width="372" height="550" alt="Sitting in Chair" /></p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," said David, "old Billy's father +left him some consid'able pers'nal, but after +that was gone he went into the morgige +bus'nis as I tell ye. He lived mostly up to +Syrchester and around, an' when he got married +he bought a place in Syrchester and lived +there till Billy P. was about twelve or thirteen + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5"></a></span> + +year old, an' he was about fifty. By that +time he'd got 'bout to the end of his rope, an' +the' wa'n't nothin' for it but to come back +here to Homeville an' make the most o' what +the' was left—an' that's what he done, let + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6"></a></span> + +alone that he didn't make the most on't to any +pertic'ler extent. Mis' Cullom, his wife, wa'n't +no help to him. She was a city woman an' +didn't take to the country no way, but when +she died it broke old Billy up wus 'n ever. +She peaked an' pined, an' died when Billy P. +was about fifteen or so. Wa'al, Billy P. an' +the old man wrastled along somehow, an' the +boy went to collige fer a year or so. How +they ever got along 's they did I dunno. The' +was a story that some far-off relation left old +Billy some money, an' I guess that an' what +they got off'm what farms was left carried +'em along till Billy P. was twenty-five or so, +an' then he up an' got married. That was the +crownin' stroke," remarked David. "She +was one o' the village girls—respectable folks, +more 'n ordinary good lookin' an' high steppin', +an' had had some schoolin'. But the +old man was prouder 'n a cock-turkey, an' +thought nobody wa'n't quite good enough fer +Billy P., an' all along kind o' reckoned that +he'd marry some money an' git a new start. +But when he got married—on the quiet, you +know, cause he knowed the old man would +kick—wa'al, that killed the trick, an' the old +man into the bargain. It took the gumption +all out of him, an' he didn't live a year. + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7"></a></span> + +Wa'al, sir, it was curious, but, 's I was told, +putty much the hull village sided with the old +man. The Culloms was kind o' kings in them +days, an' folks wa'n't so one-man's-good's-anotherish +as they be now. They thought +Billy P. done wrong, though they didn't have +nothin' to say 'gainst the girl neither—an' +she's very much respected, Mis' Cullom is, an' +as fur's I'm concerned, I've alwus guessed she +kept Billy P. goin' full as long 's any one +could. But 't wa'n't no use—that is to say, +the sure thing come to pass. He had a nom'nal +title to a good deal o' prop'ty, but the +equity in most on't if it had ben to be put up +wa'n't enough to pay fer the papers. You +see, the' ain't never ben no real cash value in +farm prop'ty in these parts. The' ain't ben +hardly a dozen changes in farm titles, 'cept by +inher'tance or foreclosure, in thirty years. So +Billy P. didn't make no effort. Int'rist's one +o' them things that keeps right on nights an' +Sundays. He jest had the deeds made out +an' handed 'em over when the time came to +settle. The' was some village lots though that +was clear, that fetched him in some money +from time to time until they was all gone but +one, an' that's the one Mis' Cullom lives on +now. It was consid'able more'n a lot—in fact, + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8"></a></span> + +a putty sizable place. She thought the sun +rose an' set where Billy P. was, but she took +a crotchit in her head, and wouldn't ever sign +no papers fer that, an' lucky fer him too. +The' was a house on to it, an' he had a roof +over his head anyway when he died six or +seven years after he married, an' left her with +a boy to raise. How she got along all them +years till Charley got big enough to help, I +swan! I don't know. She took in sewin' an' +washin', an' went out to cook an' nurse, an' +all that, but I reckon the' was now an' then +times when they didn't overload their stomechs +much, nor have to open the winders to +cool off. But she held on to that prop'ty of +her'n like a pup to a root. It was putty +well out when Billy P. died, but the village +has growed up to it. The's some good +lots could be cut out on't, an' it backs up +to the river where the current's enough to +make a mighty good power fer a 'lectric light. +I know some fellers that are talkin' of startin' +a plant here, an' it ain't out o' sight that +they'd pay a good price fer the river front, an' +enough land to build on. Fact on't is, it's got +to be a putty valu'ble piece o' prop'ty, more 'n +she cal'lates on, I reckon."</p> + +<p>Here Mr. Harum paused, pinching his chin + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9"></a></span> + +with thumb and index finger, and mumbling +his tobacco. John, who had listened with +more attention than interest—wondering the +while as to what the narrative was leading up +to—thought something might properly be +expected of him to show that he had followed +it, and said, "So Mrs. Cullom has kept this +last piece clear, has she?"</p> + +<p>"No," said David, bringing down his right +hand upon the desk with emphasis, "that's +jes' what she hain't done, an' that's how I +come to tell ye somethin' of the story, an' +more on't 'n you've cared about hearin', +mebbe."</p> + +<p>"Not at all," John protested. "I have +been very much interested."</p> + +<p>"You have, have you?" said Mr. Harum. +"Wa'al, I got somethin' I want ye to do. +Day after to-morro' 's Chris'mus, an' I want +ye to drop Mis' Cullom a line, somethin' like +this, 'That Mr. Harum told ye to say that +that morgige he holds, havin' ben past due +fer some time, an' no int'rist havin' ben paid +fer, let me see, more'n a year, he wants to +close the matter up, an' he'll see her Chris'mus +mornin' at the bank at nine o'clock, he +havin' more time on that day; but that, +as fur as he can see, the bus'nis won't take + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10"></a></span> + +very long'—somethin' +like that, +you understand?"</p> + +<p><img src="images/010.jpg" class="floatLeft" width="400" height="500" alt="" /></p> + +<p>"Very +well, sir," +said John, +hoping that +his employer +would +not see in +his face the +disgust and +repugnance he +felt as he surmised +what a scheme was on foot, and recalled +what he had heard of Harum's hard +and unscrupulous ways, though he had to +admit that this, excepting perhaps the episode +of the counterfeit money, was the first revelation +to him personally. But this seemed +very bad indeed.</p> + +<p>"All right," said David cheerfully, "I s'pose +it won't take you long to find out what's in +your stockin', an' if you hain't nothin' else to +do Chris'mus mornin' I'd like to have you +open the office an' stay 'round a spell till I +git through with Mis' Cullom. Mebbe the' 'll + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11"></a></span> + +be some papers to fill out or witniss or somethin'; +an' have that skeezicks of a boy make +up the fires so'st the place'll be warm."</p> + +<p>"Very good, sir," said John, hoping that +the interview was at an end.</p> + +<p>But the elder man sat for some minutes +apparently in a brown study, and occasionally +a smile of sardonic cunning wrinkled his face. +At last he said: "I've told ye so much that I +may as well tell ye how I come by that morgidge. +Twon't take but a minute, an' then +you can run an' play," he added with a +chuckle.</p> + +<p>"I trust I have not betrayed any impatience," +said John, and instantly conscious of +his infelicitous expression, added hastily, "I +have really been very much interested."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," was the reply, "you hain't +<i>betrayed</i> none, but I know old fellers like me +gen'rally tell a thing twice over while they're +at it. Wa'al," he went on, "it was like this. +After Charley Cullom got to be some grown +he helped to keep the pot a-bilin', 'n they +got on some better. 'Bout seven year ago, +though, he up an' got married, an' then the +fat ketched fire. Finally he allowed that if he +had some money he'd go West 'n take up +some land, 'n git along like pussly 'n a flower + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12"></a></span> + +gard'n. He ambitioned that if his mother 'd +raise a thousan' dollars on her place he'd be +sure to take care of the int'rist, an' prob'ly pay +off the princ'pal in almost no time. Wa'al, +she done it, an' off he went. She didn't come +to me fer the money, because—I dunno—at +any rate she didn't, but got it of 'Zeke +Swinney.</p> + +<p>"Wa'al, it turned out jest 's any fool +might 've predilictid, fer after the first year, +when I reckon he paid it out of the thousan', +Charley never paid no int'rist. The second +year he was jes' gettin' goin', an' the next +year he lost a hoss jest 's he was cal'latin' to +pay, an' the next year the grasshoppers smote +him, 'n so on; an' the outcome was that at +the end of five years, when the morgige had +one year to run, Charley'd paid one year, an' +she'd paid one, an' she stood to owe three +years' int'rist. How old Swinney come to +hold off so was that she used to pay the cuss +ten dollars or so ev'ry six months 'n git no +credit fer it, an' no receipt an' no witniss, 'n +he knowed the prop'ty was improving all the +time. He may have had another reason, but +at any rate he let her run, an' got the shave +reg'lar. But at the time I'm tellin' you about +he'd begun to cut up, an' allowed that if she + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13"></a></span> + +didn't settle up the int'rist he'd foreclose, an' +I got wind on't an' I run across her one day +an' got to talkin' with her, an' she gin me the +hull narration. 'How much do you owe the +old critter?' I says. 'A hunderd an' eighty +dollars,' she says, 'an' where I'm goin' to git +it,' she says, 'the Lord only knows.' 'An' +He won't tell ye, I reckon,' I says. Wa'al, +of course I'd known that old Swinney had a +morgidge because it was a matter of record, +an' I knowed him well enough to give a guess +what his game was goin' to be, an' more'n +that I'd had my eye on that piece an' parcel +an' I figured that he wa'n't any likelier a citizen +'n I was." ("Yes," said John to himself, +"where the carcase is the vultures are gathered +together.")</p> + +<p>"'Wa'al,' I says to her, after we'd had a +little more talk, 's'posen you come 'round to +my place to-morro' 'bout 'leven o'clock, an' +mebbe we c'n cipher this thing out. I don't +say positive that we kin,' I says, 'but mebbe, +mebbe.' So that afternoon I sent over to the +county seat an' got a description an' had a +second morgige drawed up fer two hundred +dollars, an' Mis' Cullom signed it mighty +quick. I had the morgige made one day +after date, 'cause, as I said to her, it was in + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14"></a></span> + +the nature of a temp'rary loan, but she was so +tickled she'd have signed most anythin' at that +pertic'ler time. 'Now,' I says to her, 'you go +an' settle with old Step-an'-fetch-it, but don't +you say a word where you got the money,' I +says. 'Don't ye let on nothin'—stretch that +conscience o' your'n if nes'sary,' I says, 'an' +be pertic'ler if he asks you if Dave Harum give +ye the money you jes' say, "No, he didn't." +That won't be no lie,' I says, 'because I ain't +<i>givin</i>' it to ye,' I says. Wa'al, she done as I +told her. Of course Swinney suspicioned fust +off that I was mixed up in it, but she stood +him off so fair an' square that he didn't know +jes' what <i>to</i> think, but his claws was cut fer a +spell, anyway.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15"></a></span></p> + +<p class="center_pix pix_title"><img src="images/015.jpg" width="600" height="343" alt="" title="" /><br /> +<span class="left"><span class="smcap"> David Harum</span>, Act II</span></p> + +<p>"Wa'al, things went on fer a while, till I +made up my mind that I ought to relieve +Swinney of some of his anxieties about +worldly bus'nis, an' I dropped in on him one +mornin' an' passed the time o' day, an' after +we'd eased up our minds on the subjects of +each other's health an' such like I says, 'You +hold a morgige on the Widder Cullom's +place, don't ye?' Of course he couldn't say +nothin' but 'yes.' 'Does she keep up the +int'rist all right?' I says. 'I don't want to be +pokin' my nose into your bus'nis,' I says, + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16"></a></span> + +'an' don't tell me nothin' you don't want to.' +Wa'al, he knowed Dave Harum was Dave +Harum, an' that he might 's well speak it out, +an' he says, 'Wa'al, she didn't pay nothin' fer +a good while, but last time she forked over +the hull amount. But I hain't no notion,' he +says, 'that she'll come to time agin.' 'An' +s'posin' she don't,' I says, 'you'll take the +prop'ty, won't ye?' 'Don't see no other +way,' he says, an' lookin' up quick, 'unless +you over-bid me,' he says. 'No,' I says, 'I +ain't buyin' no real estate jes' now, but the +thing I come in fer,' I says, 'leavin' out the +pleasure of havin' a talk with you, was to +say that I'd take that morgige off'm your +hands.'</p> + +<p>"Wa'al, sir, he, he, he, he! Scat my——! +At that he looked at me fer a minute with his +jaw on his neck, an' then he hunched himself, +'n drawed in his neck like a mud turtle. +'No,' he says, 'I ain't sufferin' fer the money, +an' I guess I'll keep the morgige. It's putty +near due now, but mebbe I'll let it run a spell. +I guess the secur'ty's good fer it.' 'Yes,' I +says, 'I reckon you'll let it run long enough +fer the widder to pay the taxes on't once more +anyhow; I guess the secur'ty's good enough +to take that resk; but how 'bout <i>my</i> secur'ty?' + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17"></a></span> + +I says. 'What d'you mean?' he says. 'I +mean,' says I, 'that I've got a second morgige +on that prop'ty, an' I begin to tremble +fer my secur'ty. You've jes' told me,' I says, +'that you're goin' to foreclose an' I cal'late to +protect myself, an' I <i>don't</i> cal'late,' I says, 'to +have to go an' bid on that prop'ty, an' put in +a lot more money to save my investment, +unless I'm 'bleeged to—not <i>much!</i> an' you +can jes' sign that morgige over to me, an' the +sooner the quicker,' I says."</p> + +<p>David brought his hand down on his thigh +with a vigorous slap, the fellow of the one +which, John could imagine, had emphasized +his demand upon Swinney. The story, to +which he had at first listened with polite +patience merely, he had found more interesting +as it went on, and, excusing himself, he +brought up a stool, and mounting it, said, +"And what did Swinney say to that?" Mr. +Harum emitted a gurgling chuckle, yawned +his quid out of his mouth, tossing it over his +shoulder in the general direction of the waste +basket, and bit off the end of a cigar which +he found by slapping his waistcoat pockets. +John got down and fetched him a match, +which he scratched in the vicinity of his hip +pocket, lighted his cigar (John declining to + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18"></a></span> + +join him on some plausible pretext, having +on a previous occasion accepted one of the +brand), and after rolling it around with his +lips and tongue to the effect that the lighted +end described sundry eccentric curves, located +it firmly with an upward angle in the left-hand +corner of his mouth, gave it a couple +of vigorous puffs, and replied to John's +question.</p> + +<p>"Wa'al, 'Zeke Swinney was a perfesser +of religion some years ago, an' mebbe he is +now, but what he said to me on this pertic'ler +occasion was that he'd see me in hell fust, 'an +<i>then</i> he wouldn't.</p> + +<p>"'Wa'al,' I says, 'mebbe you won't, +mebbe you will, it's alwus a pleasure to meet +ye,' I says, 'but in that case this morgige +bus'nis 'll be a question fer our executors,' I +says, 'fer <i>you</i> don't never foreclose that morgige, +an' don't you fergit it,' I says.</p> + +<p>"'Oh, you'd like to git holt o' that +prop'ty yourself. I see what you're up to,' +he says.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19"></a></span></p> + +<p class='center_pix pix_title'><img src="images/019.jpg" width="600" height="306" alt="" /><br /> +<span class="left"><span class="smcap"> David Harum</span>, Act II</span></p> + +<p>"'Look a-here, 'Zeke Swinney,' I says, +'I've got an int'rist in that prop'ty, an' I propose +to p'tect it. You're goin' to sign that +morgige over to me, or I'll foreclose an' surrygate +ye,' I says, 'unless you allow to bid in + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20"></a></span> + +the prop'ty, in which case we'll see whose +weasel-skin's the longest. But I guess it +won't come to that,' I says. 'You kin take +your choice,' I says. 'Whether I want to git +holt o' that prop'ty myself ain't neither here +nor there. Mebbe I do, an' mebbe I don't, +but anyways,' I says, '<i>you</i> don't git it, nor +wouldn't ever, for if I can't make you sign +over, I'll either do what I said or I'll back the +widder in a defence fer usury. Put that in +your pipe an' smoke it,' I says.</p> + +<p>"'What do you mean?' he says, gittin' +half out his chair.</p> + +<p>"'I mean this,' I says, 'that the fust six +months the widder couldn't pay she gin you +ten dollars to hold off, an' the next time +she gin you fifteen, an' that you've bled +her fer shaves to the tune of sixty odd dollars +in three years, an' then got your int'rist +in full.'</p> + +<p>"That riz him clean out of his chair," +said David. "'She can't prove it,' he says, +shakin' his fist in the air.</p> + +<p class='center'><img src="images/021.jpg" width="356" height="550" alt="" /></p> + +<p>"'Oh, ho! ho!' I says, tippin' my chair +back agin the wall. 'If Mis' Cullom was +to swear how an' where she paid you the +money, givin' chapter an' verse, and showin' +her own mem'randums even, an' I was to + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21"></a></span> + +swear that when I twitted you with gittin' +it you didn't deny it, but only said that she +couldn't <i>prove</i> it, how long do you think it +'ould take a Freeland County jury to find agin +ye? I allow, 'Zeke Swinney,' I says, 'that you +wa'n't born yestid'y, but you ain't so old as + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22"></a></span> + +you look, not by a dum sight!' an' then how +I did laugh!</p> + +<p>"Wa'al," said David, as he got down off +the stool and stretched himself, yawning, "I +guess I've yarned it enough fer one day. +Don't fergit to send Mis' Cullom that notice, +an' make it up an' up. I'm goin' to git the +thing off my mind this trip."</p> + +<p>"Very well, sir," said John, "but let me +ask, did Swinney assign the mortgage without +any trouble?"</p> + +<p>"O Lord! yes," was the reply. "The' +wa'n't nothin' else fer him to do. I had +another twist on him that I hain't mentioned. +But he put up a great show of doin' it to +obleege me. Wa'al, I thanked him an' so on, +an' when we'd got through I ast him if he +wouldn't step over to the 'Eagil' an' take +somethin', an' he looked kind o' shocked an' +said he never drinked nothin'. It was 'gin +his princ'ples, he said. Ho, ho, ho, ho! Scat +my——! Princ'ples!" and John heard him +chuckling to himself all the way out of the +office. + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23"></a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<p>Considering John's relations with David +Harum, it was natural that he should wish to +think as well of him as possible, and he had +not (or thought he had not) allowed his mind +to be influenced by the disparaging remarks +and insinuations which had been made to +him, or in his presence, concerning his employer. +He had made up his mind to form +his opinion upon his own experience with the +man, and so far it had not only been pleasant +but favorable, and far from justifying the half-jeering, +half-malicious talk that had come +to his ears. It had been made manifest to +him, it was true, that David was capable of a +sharp bargain in certain lines, but it seemed +to him that it was more for the pleasure of +matching his wits against another's than for +any gain involved. Mr. Harum was an +experienced and expert horseman, who delighted +above all things in dealing in and trading +horses, and John soon discovered that, in + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24"></a></span> + +that community at least, to get the best of a +"hoss-trade" by almost any means was considered +a venial sin, if a sin at all, and the +standards of ordinary business probity were +not expected to govern those transactions.</p> + +<p>David had said to him once when he suspected +that John's ideas might have sustained +something of a shock, "A hoss-trade ain't like +anythin' else. A feller may be straighter 'n a +string in ev'rythin' else, an' never tell the +truth—that is, the hull truth—about a hoss. +I trade hosses with hoss-traders. They all +think they know as much as I do, an' I dunno +but what they do. They hain't learnt no +diff'rent anyway, an' they've had chances +enough. If a feller come to me that didn't +think he knowed anythin' about a hoss, an' +wanted to buy on the square, he'd git, fur's I +knew, square treatment. At any rate I'd tell +him all 't I knew. But when one o' them +smart Alecks comes along an' cal'lates to do +up old Dave, why he's got to take his +chances, that's all. An' mind ye," asserted +David, shaking his forefinger impressively, "it +ain't only them fellers. I've ben wuss stuck +two three time by church members in good +standin' than anybody I ever dealed with. +Take old Deakin Perkins. He's a terrible + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26"></a></span> + +feller fer church bus'nes; c'n pray an' psalm-sing +to beat the Jews, an' in spiritual matters +c'n read his title clear the hull time, but when +it comes to hoss-tradin' you got to git up very +early in the mornin' or he'll skin the eye-teeth +out of ye. Yes, sir! Scat my——! I believe +the old critter <i>makes</i> hosses! But the deakin," +added David, "he, he, he, he! the +deakin hain't hardly spoke to me fer some +consid'able time, the deakin hain't. He, +he, he!</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25"></a></span></p> + +<p class='center_pix' style="width: 600px"><img src="images/025.jpg" width="600" height="308" alt="" /><br /> +<span class="left"><span class="smcap"> David Harum</span>, Act III</span></p> + +<p>"Another thing," he went on, "the' ain't +no gamble like a hoss. You may think you +know him through an' through, an' fust thing +you know he'll be cuttin' up a lot o' didos +right out o' nothin'. It stands to reason that +sometimes you let a hoss go all on the square—as +you know him—an' the feller that gits +him don't know how to hitch him or treat +him, an' he acts like a diff'rent hoss, an' the +feller allows you swindled him. You see, +hosses gits used to places an' ways to a certain +extent, an' when they're changed, why +they're apt to act diff'rent. Hosses don't +know but dreadful little, really. Talk about +hoss sense—wa'al, the' ain't no such thing."</p> + +<p>Thus spoke David on the subject of his +favorite pursuit and pastime, and John thought + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27"></a></span> + +then that he could understand and condone +some things he had seen and heard, at which +at first he was inclined to look askance. But +this matter of the Widow Cullom's was a +different thing, and as he realized that he was +expected to play a part, though a small one, +in it, his heart sank within him that he had so +far cast his fortunes upon the good will of a +man who could plan and carry out so heartless +and cruel an undertaking as that which had +been revealed to him that afternoon. He spent +the evening in his room trying to read, but the +widow's affairs persistently thrust themselves +upon his thoughts. All the unpleasant stories +he had heard of David came to his mind, and +he remembered with misgiving some things +which at the time had seemed regular and +right enough, but which took on a different +color in the light in which he found himself +recalling them. He debated with himself +whether he should not decline to send Mrs. +Cullom the notice as he had been instructed, +and left it an open question when he went to +bed.</p> + +<p>He wakened somewhat earlier than usual +to find that the thermometer had gone up, +and the barometer down. The air was full of +a steady downpour, half snow, half rain, + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28"></a></span> + +about the most disheartening combination +which the worst climate in the world—that +of central New York—can furnish. He passed +rather a busy day in the office in an atmosphere +redolent of the unsavory odors raised +by the proximity of wet boots and garments +to the big cylinder stove outside the counter, +a compound of stale smells from kitchen and +stable.</p> + +<p>After the bank closed he dispatched Peleg +Hopkins, the office boy, with the note for +Mrs. Cullom. He had abandoned his half-formed +intention to revolt, but had made the +note not only as little peremptory as was compatible +with a clear intimation of its purport +as he understood it, but had yielded to a +natural impulse in beginning it with an expression +of personal regret—a blunder which +cost him no little chagrin in the outcome.</p> + +<p>Peleg Hopkins grumbled audibly when he +was requested to build the fires on Christmas +day, and expressed his opinion that "if there +warn't Bible agin workin' on Chris'mus, the' +'d ort ter be"; but when John opened the +door of the bank that morning he found the +temperature in comfortable contrast to the +outside air. The weather had changed again, +and a blinding snowstorm, accompanied by a + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30"></a></span> + +buffeting gale from the northwest, made it +almost impossible to see a path and to keep +it. In the central part of the town some tentative +efforts had been made to open walks, +but these were apparent only as slight and +tortuous depressions in the depths of snow. +In the outskirts the unfortunate pedestrian had +to wade to the knees.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29"></a></span></p> + +<p class='center_pix' style="width: 320px"><img src="images/029.jpg" width="320" height="550" alt="" /><br /> +<span class="left"><span class="smcap"> David Harum</span>, Act III</span></p> + +<p>As John went behind the counter his eye +was at once caught by a small parcel lying on +his desk, of white note paper, tied with a cotton +string, which he found to be addressed, +"Mr. John Lenox, Esq., Present," and as he +took it up it seemed heavy for its size.</p> + +<p>Opening it, he found a tiny stocking, knit +of white wool, to which was pinned a piece +of paper with the legend, "A Merry Christmas +from Aunt Polly." Out of the stocking fell a +packet fastened with a rubber strap. Inside +were five ten-dollar gold pieces and a slip +of paper on which was written, "A Merry +Christmas from Your Friend David Harum." +For a moment John's face burned, and there +was a curious smarting of the eyelids as he +held the little stocking and its contents in +his hand. Surely the hand that had written +"Your Friend" on that scrap of paper could +not be the hand of an oppressor of widows + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31"></a></span> + +and orphans. "This," said John to himself, +"is what he meant when he 'supposed it +wouldn't take me long to find out what was +in my stocking.'"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The door opened and a blast and whirl of +wind and snow rushed in, ushering the tall, +bent form of the Widow Cullom. The drive +of the wind was so strong that John vaulted +over the low cash counter to push the door +shut again. The poor woman was white +with snow from the front of her old worsted +hood to the bottom of her ragged skirt.</p> + +<p>"You are Mrs. Cullom?" said John. +"Wait a moment till I brush off the snow, +and then come to the fire in the back room. +Mr. Harum will be in directly, I expect."</p> + +<p>"Be I much late?" she asked. "I made 's +much haste 's I could. It don't appear to me +'s if I ever see a blusteriner day, 'n I ain't as +strong as I used to be. Seemed as if I never +would git here."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," said John, as he established +her before the glowing grate of the Franklin +stove in the back parlor, "not at all. Mr. +Harum has not come in himself yet. Shall +you mind if I excuse myself a moment while +you make yourself as comfortable as possible?" She + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32"></a></span> + +did not apparently hear him. She +was trembling from head to foot with cold +and fatigue and nervous excitement. Her +dress was soaked to the knees, and as she sat +down and put up her feet to the fire John +saw a bit of a thin cotton stocking and her +deplorable shoes, almost in a state of pulp. +A snow-obliterated path led from the back +door of the office to David's house, and John +snatched his hat and started for it on a run. +As he stamped off some of the snow on the +veranda the door was opened for him by +Mrs. Bixbee. "Lord sakes!" she exclaimed. +"What on earth be you cavortin' 'round for +such a mornin' 's this without no overcoat, +an' on a dead run? What's the matter?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing serious," he answered, "but +I'm in a great hurry. Old Mrs. Cullom has +walked up from her house to the office, and +she is wet through and almost perished. I +thought you'd send her some dry shoes and +stockings, and an old shawl or blanket to +keep her wet skirt off her knees, and a drop +of whisky or something. She's all of a +tremble, and I'm afraid she will have a chill."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33"></a></span></p> + +<p class='center_pix' style="width: 350px"><img src="images/033.jpg" width="350" height="550" alt="" /><br /> +<span class="left"><span class="smcap"> David Harum</span>, Act III</span></p> + +<p>"Certain! certain!" said the kind creature, +and she bustled out of the room, returning in +a minute or two with an armful of comforts. + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34"></a></span> + +"There's a pair of bedroom slips lined with +lamb's wool, an' a pair of woolen stockin's, +an' a blanket shawl. This here petticut, 't +ain't what ye'd call bran' new, but it's warm +and comf'table, an' I don't believe she's got +much of anythin' on 'ceptin' her dress, an' I'll +git ye the whisky, but"—here she looked +deprecatingly at John—"it ain't gen'ally +known 't we keep the stuff in the house. I +don't know as it's right, but though David +don't hardly ever touch it he will have it in +the house."</p> + +<p>"Oh," said John, laughing, "you may +trust my discretion, and we'll swear Mrs. +Cullom to secrecy."</p> + +<p>"Wa'al, all right," said Mrs. Bixbee, joining +in the laugh as she brought the bottle; +"jest a minute till I make a passel of the +things to keep the snow out. There, now, I +guess you're fixed, an' you kin hurry back +'fore she ketches a chill."</p> + +<p>"Thanks very much," said John as he +started away. "I have something to say to +you besides 'Merry Christmas,' but I must +wait till another time."</p> + +<p>When John got back to the office David +had just preceded him.</p> + +<p>"Wa'al, wa'al," he was saying, "but you + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35"></a></span> + +be in a putty consid'able state. Hullo, John! +what you got there? Wa'al, you air the +stuff! Slips, blanket-shawl, petticut, stockin's—wa'al, +you an' Polly ben puttin' your +heads together, I guess. What's that? +Whisky! Wa'al, scat my——! I didn't +s'pose wild hosses would have drawed it out +o' Polly to let on the' was any in the house, +much less to fetch it out. Jes' the thing! Oh, +yes ye are, Mis' Cullom—jest a mouthful with +water," taking the glass from John, "jest a +spoonful to git your blood a-goin', an' then +Mr. Lenox an' me 'll go into the front room +while you make yourself comf'table."</p> + +<p>"Consarn it all!" exclaimed Mr. Harum as +they stood leaning against the teller's counter, +facing the street, "I didn't cal'late to have Mis' +Cullom hoof it up here the way she done. +When I see what kind of a day it was I went +out to the barn to have the cutter hitched an' +send for her, an' I found ev'rythin' topsy-turvy. +That dum'd uneasy sorril colt had got +cast in the stall, an' I ben fussin' with him +ever since. I clean forgot all 'bout Mis' Cullom +till jes' now."</p> + +<p>"Is the colt much injured?" John asked.</p> + +<p>"Wa'al, he won't trot a twenty gait in +some time, I reckon," replied David. "He's + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36"></a></span> + +wrenched his shoulder some, an' mebbe +strained his inside. Don't seem to take no +int'rist in his feed, an' that's a bad sign. Consarn +a hoss, anyhow! If they're wuth anythin' +they're more bother 'n a teethin' baby. +Alwus some dum thing ailin' 'em, an' I took +consid'able stock in that colt too," he added +regretfully, "an' I could 'a' got putty near +what I was askin' fer him last week, an' putty +near what he was wuth, an' I've noticed that +most gen'ally alwus when I let a good offer +go like that, some cussed thing happens to +the hoss. It ain't a bad idee, in the hoss bus'nis +anyway, to be willin' to let the other +feller make a dollar once 'n a while."</p> + +<p>After that aphorism they waited in silence +for a few minutes, and then David called out +over his shoulder, "How be you gettin' +along, Mis' Cullom?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37"></a></span></p> + +<p class='center_pix pix_title'><img src="images/037.jpg" width="600" height="304" alt="" /><br /> +<span class="left"><span class="smcap"> David Harum</span>, Act III</span></p> + +<p>"I guess I'm fixed," she answered, and +David walked slowly back into the parlor, +leaving John in the front office. He was +annoyed to realize that in the bustle over Mrs. +Cullom and what followed, he had forgotten +to acknowledge the Christmas gift; but, hoping +that Mr. Harum had been equally oblivious, +promised himself to repair the omission +later on. He would have preferred to go out + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38"></a></span> + +and leave the two to settle their affair without +witness or hearer, but his employer, who, as +he had found, usually had a reason for his +actions, had explicitly requested him to +remain, and he had no choice. He perched +himself upon one of the office stools and composed +himself to await the conclusion of the +affair. + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39"></a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + + +<p>Mrs. Cullom was sitting at one corner of +the fire, and David drew a chair opposite to +her.</p> + +<p>"Feelin' all right now? whisky hain't +made ye liable to no disorderly conduct, has +it?" he asked with a laugh.</p> + +<p>"Yes, thank you," was the reply, "the +warm things are real comfortin', 'n' I guess I +hain't had licker enough to make me want to +throw things. You got a kind streak in ye, +Dave Harum, if you did send me this here +note—but I s'pose ye know your own bus'nis," +she added with a sigh of resignation. +"I ben fearin' fer a good while 't I couldn't +hold on t' that prop'ty, an' I don't know but +what you might's well git it as 'Zeke Swinney, +though I ben hopin' 'gainst hope that +Charley 'd be able to do morn 'n he has."</p> + +<p>"Let's see the note," said David curtly. +"H'm, humph, 'regret to say that I have +been instructed by Mr. Harum'—wa'al, + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40"></a></span> + +h'm'm, cal'lated to clear his own skirts anyway—h'm'm—'must +be closed up without +further delay' (John's eye caught the little +white stocking which still lay on his desk)—'wa'al, +yes, that's about what I told Mr. +Lenox to say fur's the bus'nis part's concerned—I +might 'a' done my own regrettin' if I'd +wrote the note myself." (John said something +to himself.) "'T ain't the pleasantest +thing in the world fer ye, I allow, but then +you see, bus'nis is bus'nis."</p> + +<p>John heard David clear his throat, and there +was a hiss in the open fire. Mrs. Cullom was +silent, and David resumed:</p> + +<p>"You see, Mis' Cullom, it's like this. I +ben thinkin' of this matter fer a good while. +That place ain't ben no real good to ye sence +the first year you signed that morgidge. You +hain't scurcely more'n made ends meet, let +alone the int'rist, an' it's ben simply a question +o' time, an' who'd git the prop'ty in the long +run fer some years. I reckoned, same as you +did, that Charley 'd mebbe come to the front—but +he hain't done it, an' 't ain't likely he +ever will. Charley's a likely 'nough boy some +ways, but he hain't got much 'git there' in his +make-up, not more'n enough fer one anyhow, +I reckon. That's about the size on't, ain't it?" + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41"></a></span></p> + +<p>Mrs. Cullom murmured a feeble admission +that she was "'fraid it was."</p> + +<p class='center'><img src="images/041.jpg" width="372" height="550" alt="" /></p> + +<p>"Wa'al," resumed Mr. Harum, "I see how +things was goin', an' I see that unless I played +euchre, 'Zeke Swinney 'd git that prop'ty, an' +whether I wanted it myself or not, I didn't + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42"></a></span> + +cal'late he sh'd git it anyway. He put a spoke +in my wheel once, an' I hain't forgot it. But +that hain't neither here nor there. Wa'al," +after a short pause, "you know I helped ye +pull the thing along on the chance, as ye may +say, that you an' your son 'd somehow make +a go on't."</p> + +<p>"You ben very kind, so fur," said the +widow faintly.</p> + +<p>"Don't ye say that, don't ye say that," +protested David. "'T wa'n't no kindness. +It was jes' bus'nis. I wa'n't takin' no chances, +an' I s'pose I might let the thing run a spell +longer if I c'd see any use in't. But the' ain't, +an' so I ast ye to come up this mornin' so 't +we c'd settle the thing up without no fuss, +nor trouble, nor lawyer's fees, nor nothin'. +I've got the papers all drawed, an' John—Mr. +Lenox—here to take the acknowlidgments. +You hain't no objection to windin' the thing +up this mornin', have ye?"</p> + +<p>"I s'pose I'll have to do whatever you +say," replied the poor woman in a tone of +hopeless discouragement, "an' I might as +well be killed to once, as to die by inch +pieces."</p> + +<p>"All right then," said David cheerfully, +ignoring her lethal suggestion, "but before + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43"></a></span> + +we git down to bus'nis an' signin' papers, an' +in order to set myself in as fair a light 's I can +in the matter, I want to tell ye a little story."</p> + +<p>"I hain't no objection 's I know of," acquiesced +the widow graciously.</p> + +<p>"All right," said David, "I won't preach +more 'n about up to the sixthly—How'd you +feel if I was to light up a cigar? I hain't much +of a hand at a yarn, an' if I git stuck, I c'n +puff a spell. Thank ye. Wa'al, Mis' Cullom, +you used to know somethin' about my folks. +I was raised on Buxton Hill. The' was nine +on us, an' I was the youngest o' the lot. My +father farmed a piece of about forty to fifty +acres, an' had a small shop where he done odd +times small jobs of tinkerin' fer the neighbors +when the' was anythin' to do. My mother +was his second, an' I was the only child of +that marriage. He married agin when I was +about two year old, an' how I ever got raised +'s more 'n I c'n tell ye. My sister Polly was +'sponsible more 'n any one, I guess, an' the +only one o' the whole lot that ever gin me a +decent word. Small farmin' ain't cal'lated to +fetch out the best traits of human nature—an' +keep 'em out—an' it seems to me sometimes +that when the old man wa'n't cuffin' my ears +he was lickin' me with a rawhide or a strap. Fur 's + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44"></a></span> + +that was concerned, all his boys used +to ketch it putty reg'lar till they got too big. +One on 'em up an' licked him one night, an' +lit out next day. I s'pose the old man's disposition +was sp'iled by what some feller said +farmin' was, 'workin' all day, an' doin' chores +all night,' an' larrupin' me an' all the rest on +us was about all the enjoyment he got. My +brothers an' sisters—'ceptin' of Polly—was +putty nigh as bad in respect of cuffs an' such +like; an' my stepmarm was, on the hull, the +wust of all. She hadn't no childern o' her +own, an' it appeared 's if I was jes' pizen to +her. 'T wa'n't so much slappin' an' cuffin' +with her as 't was tongue. She c'd say things +that 'd jes' raise a blister like pizen ivy. I +s'pose I <i>was</i> about as ord'nary, no-account-lookin', +red-headed, freckled little cuss as you +ever see, an' slinkin' in my manners. The air +of our home circle wa'n't cal'lated to raise +heroes in.</p> + +<p>"I got three four years' schoolin', an' made +out to read an' write an' cipher up to long +division 'fore I got through, but after I got to +be six years old, school or no school, I had to +work reg'lar at anything I had strength fer, +an' more too. Chores before school an' after +school, an' a two-mile walk to git there. As + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45"></a></span> + +fur 's clo'es was concerned, any old thing that +'d hang together was good enough fer me; +but by the time the older boys had outgrowed +their duds, an' they was passed on to me, the' +wa'n't much left on 'em. A pair of old cowhide +boots that leaked in more snow an' water +'n they kept out, an' a couple pairs of woolen +socks that was putty much all darns, was expected +to see me through the winter, an' I +went barefoot f'm the time the snow was off +the ground till it flew agin in the fall. The' +wa'n't but two seasons o' the year with me—them +of chilblains an' stun-bruises."</p> + +<p>The speaker paused and stared for a moment +into the comfortable glow of the fire, +and then discovering to his apparent surprise +that his cigar had gone out, lighted it from a +coal picked out with the tongs.</p> + +<p>"Farmin' 's a hard life," remarked Mrs. +Cullom with an air of being expected to make +some contribution to the conversation.</p> + +<p>"An' yit, as it seems to me as I look back +on't," David resumed pensively, "the wust +on't was that nobody ever gin me a kind word, +'cept Polly. I s'pose I got kind o' used to +bein' cold an' tired; dressin' in a snowdrift +where it blowed into the attic, an' goin' out to +fodder cattle 'fore sun-up; pickin' up stun in + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46"></a></span> + +the blazin' sun, an' doin' all the odd jobs my +father set me to, an' the older ones shirked +onto me. That was the reg'lar order o' +things; but I remember I never <i>did</i> git used to +never pleasin' nobody. Course I didn't expect +nothin' f'm my step-marm, an' the only +way I ever knowed I'd done my stent fur 's +father was concerned, was that he didn't say +nothin'. But sometimes the older one's 'd git +settin' 'round, talkin' an' laughin', havin' pop +corn an' apples, an' that, an' I'd kind o' sidle +up, wantin' to join 'em, an' some on 'em 'd +say, 'What <i>you</i> doin' here? time you was in +bed,' an' give me a shove or a cuff. Yes, +ma'am," looking up at Mrs. Cullom, "the +wust on't was that I was kind o' scairt the +hull time. Once in a while Polly 'd give me +a mossel o' comfort, but Polly wa'n't but little +older 'n me, an' bein' the youngest girl, was +chored most to death herself."</p> + +<p>It had stopped snowing, and though the +wind still came in gusty blasts, whirling the +drift against the windows, a wintry gleam of +sunshine came in and touched the widow's +wrinkled face.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47"></a></span></p> + +<p class='center_pix pix_title'><img src="images/047.jpg" width="600" height="306" alt="" /><br /> +<span class="left"><span class="smcap"> David Harum</span>, Act III</span></p> + +<p>"It's amazin' how much trouble an' sorrer +the' is in the world, an' how soon it begins," +she remarked, moving a little to avoid the sunlight. + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48"></a></span> + +"I hain't never ben able to reconcile +how many good things the' be, an' how little +most on us gits o' them. I hain't ben to +meetin' fer a long spell 'cause I hain't had no +fit clo'es, but I remember most of the preachin' +I've set under either dwelt on the wrath to +come, or else on the Lord's doin' all things +well, an' providin'. I hope I ain't no wickeder +'n than the gen'ral run, but it's putty hard +to hev faith in the Lord's providin' when you +hain't got nothin' in the house but corn meal, +an' none too much o' that."</p> + +<p>"That's so, Mis' Cullom, that's so," affirmed +David. "I don't blame ye a mite. +'Doubts assail, an' oft prevail,' as the hymnbook +says, an' I reckon it's a sight easier to +have faith on meat an' potatoes 'n it is on corn +meal mush. Wa'al, as I was sayin'—I hope +I ain't tirin' ye with my goin's on?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Mrs. Cullom, "I'm engaged to +hear ye, but nobody 'd suppose to see ye now +that ye was such a f'lorn little critter as you +make out."</p> + +<p>"It's jest as I'm tellin' ye, an' more also, +as the Bible says," returned David, and then, +rather more impressively, as if he were leading +up to his conclusion, "it come along to a +time when I was 'twixt thirteen an' fourteen. + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49"></a></span> + +The' was a cirkis billed to show down here in +Homeville, an' ev'ry barn an' shed fer miles +around had pictures stuck on to 'em of el'phants, +an' rhinoceroses, an' ev'ry animul that +went into the ark; an' girls ridin' bareback an' +jumpin' through hoops, an' fellers ridin' bareback +an' turnin' summersets, an' doin' turnovers +on swings; an' clowns gettin' hoss-whipped, +an' ev'ry kind of a thing that could +be pictered out; an' how the' was to be a +grand percession at ten o'clock, 'ith golden +chariots, an' scripteral allegories, an' the hull +bus'nis; an' the gran' performance at two +o'clock; admission twenty-five cents, children +under twelve, at cetery, an' so forth. Wa'al, +I hadn't no more idee o' goin' to that cirkis 'n +I had o' flyin' to the moon, but the night +before the show somethin' waked me 'bout +twelve o'clock. I don't know how 't was. +I'd ben helpin' mend fence all day, an' gen'ally +I never knowed nothin' after my head +struck the bed till mornin'. But that night, +anyhow, somethin' waked me, an' I went an' +looked out the windo', an' there was the hull +thing goin' by the house. The' was more or +less moon, an' I see the el'phant, an' the big +wagins—the drivers kind o' noddin' over the +dashboards—an' the chariots with canvas covers—I + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50"></a></span> + +don't know how many of 'em—an' the +cages of the tigers an' lions, an' all. Wa'al, +I got up the next mornin' at sun-up an' done +my chores; an' after breakfust I set off fer the +ten-acre lot where I was mendin' fence. The +ten-acre was the farthest off of any, Homeville +way, an' I had my dinner in a tin pail so't +I needn't lose no time goin' home at noon, +an', as luck would have it, the' wa'n't nobody +with me that mornin'. Wa'al, I got down +to the lot an' set to work; but somehow I +couldn't git that show out o' my head nohow. +As I said, I hadn't no more notion of goin' to +that cirkis 'n I had of kingdom come. I'd +never had two shillin' of my own in my hull +life. But the more I thought on't the uneasier +I got. Somethin' seemed pullin' an' haulin' at +me, an' fin'ly I gin in. I allowed I'd see that +percession anyway if it took a leg, an' mebbe +I c'd git back 'ithout nobody missin' me. 'T +any rate, I'd take the chances of a lickin' jest +once—fer that's what it meant—an' I up an' +put fer the village lickity-cut. I done them +four mile lively, I c'n tell ye, an' the stun-bruises +never hurt me once.</p> + +<p>"When I got down to the village it +seemed to me as if the hull population of Freeland +County was there. I'd never seen so + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51"></a></span> + +many folks together in my life, an' fer a spell +it seemed to me as if ev'rybody was a-lookin' +at me an' sayin', 'That's old Harum's boy +Dave, playin' hookey,' an' I sneaked 'round +dreadin' somebody 'd give me away; but I +fin'ly found that nobody wa'n't payin' any +attention to me—they was there to see the +show, an' one red-headed boy more or less +wa'n't no pertic'ler account. Wa'al, putty +soon the percession hove in sight, an' the' was +a reg'lar stampede among the boys, an' when +it got by, I run an' ketched up with it agin, +an' walked alongside the el'phant, tin pail an' +all, till they fetched up inside the tent. Then +I went off to one side—it must 'a' ben about +'leven or half-past, an' eat my dinner—I had a +devourin' appetite—an' thought I'd jes' walk +round a spell, an' then light out fer home. +But the' was so many things to see an' hear—all +the side-show pictures of Fat Women, an' +Livin' Skelitons; an' Wild Women of Madygasker, +an' Wild Men of Borneo; an' snakes +windin' round women's necks; hand-orgins; +fellers that played the 'cordion, an' mouth-pipes, +an' drum an' cymbals all to once, an' +such like—that I fergot all about the time an' +the ten-acre lot, an' the stun fence, an' fust I +knowed the folks was makin' fer the ticket + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52"></a></span> + +wagin, an' the band begun to play inside the +tent. Be I taxin' your patience over the +limit?" said David, breaking off in his story +and addressing Mrs. Cullom more directly.</p> + +<p>"No, I guess not," she replied; "I was +jes' thinkin' of a circus I went to once," she +added with an audible sigh.</p> + +<p>"Wa'al," said David, taking a last farewell +of the end of his cigar, which he threw into +the grate, "mebbe what's comin' 'ill int'rist +ye more 'n the rest on't has. I was standin' +gawpin' 'round, list'nin' to the band an' +watchin' the folks git their tickets, when all of +a suddin I felt a twitch at my hair—it had a +way of workin' out of the holes in my old +chip straw hat—an' somebody says to me, +'Wa'al, sonny, what you thinkin' of?' he +says. I looked up, an' who do you s'pose it +was? It was Billy P. Cullom! I knowed +who he was, fer I'd seen him before, but of +course he didn't know me. Yes, ma'am, it +was Billy P., an' wa'n't he rigged out to +kill!"</p> + +<p>The speaker paused and looked into the +fire, smiling. The woman started forward +facing him, and clasping her hands, cried, +"My husband! What'd he have on?"</p> + +<p>"Wa'al," said David slowly and reminiscently, + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53"></a></span> + +"near 's I c'n remember, he had on a +blue broadcloth claw-hammer coat with flat +gilt buttons, an' a double-breasted plaid velvet +vest, an' pearl-gray pants, strapped down over +his boots, which was of shiny leather, an' a +high pointed collar an' blue stock with a pin in +it (I remember wonderin' if it c'd be real gold), +an' a yeller-white plug beaver hat."</p> + +<p>At the description of each article of attire +Mrs. Cullom nodded her head, with her eyes +fixed on David's face, and as he concluded she +broke out breathlessly, "Oh, yes! Oh, yes! +David, he wore them very same clo'es, an' he +took me to that very same show that very +same night!" There was in her face a look +almost of awe, as if a sight of her long-buried +past youth had been shown to her from a +coffin.</p> + +<p>Neither spoke for a moment or two, and it +was the widow who broke the silence. As +David had conjectured, she was interested at +last, and sat leaning forward with her hands +clasped in her lap.</p> + +<p>"Well," she exclaimed, "ain't ye goin' +on? What did he say to ye?"</p> + +<p>"Cert'nly, cert'nly," responded David. +"I'll tell ye near 's I c'n remember, an' I c'n +remember putty near. As I told ye. I felt a + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54"></a></span> + +twitch at my hair, an' he said, 'What be you +thinkin' about, sonny?' I looked up at him, +an' looked away quick. 'I dunno,' I says, +diggin' my big toe into the dust; an' then, I +dunno how I got the spunk to, for I was shyer +'n a rat, 'Guess I was thinkin' 'bout mendin' +that fence up in the ten-acre lot 's much 's +anythin',' I says.</p> + +<p>"'Ain't you goin' to the cirkis?' he says.</p> + +<p>"'I hain't got no money to go to cirkises,' +I says, rubbin' the dusty toes o' one foot over +t' other, 'nor nothin' else,' I says.</p> + +<p>"'Wa'al,' he says, 'why don't you crawl +under the canvas?'</p> + +<p>"That kind o' riled me, shy 's I was. 'I +don't crawl under no canvases,' I says. 'If I +can't go in same 's other folks, I'll stay out,' I +says, lookin' square at him fer the fust time. +He wa'n't exac'ly smilin', but the' was a look +in his eyes that was the next thing to it."</p> + +<p>"Lordy me!" sighed Mrs. Cullom, as if to +herself. "How well I can remember that +look; jest as if he was laughin' at ye, an' +wa'n't laughin' at ye, an' his arm around your +neck!"</p> + +<p>David nodded in reminiscent sympathy, +and rubbed his bald poll with the back of his +hand. + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55"></a></span></p> + +<p>"Wa'al," interjected the widow.</p> + +<p>"Wa'al," said David, resuming, "he says +to me, 'Would you like to go to the cirkis?' +an' with that it occurred to me that I did want +to go to that cirkis more'n anythin' I ever +wanted to before—nor since, it seems to me. +But I tell ye the truth, I was so far f'm expectin' +to go 't I really hadn't knowed I wanted +to. I looked at him, an' then down agin, an' +began tenderin' up a stun-bruise on one heel +agin the other instep, an' all I says was, bein' +so dum'd shy, 'I dunno,' I says. But I guess +he seen in my face what my feelin's was, fer +he kind o' laughed an' pulled out half-a-dollar +an' says: 'D' you think you could git a couple +o' tickits in that crowd? If you kin, I +think I'll go myself, but I don't want to git +my boots all dust,' he says. I allowed I c'd +try; an' I guess them bare feet o' mine tore up +the dust some gettin' over to the wagin. +Wa'al, I had another scare gettin' the tickits, +fer fear some one that knowed me 'd see me +with a half-a-dollar, an' think I must 'a' stole the +money. But I got 'em an' carried 'em back to +him, an' he took 'em an' put 'em in his vest +pocket, an' handed me a ten-cent piece, an' +says, 'Mebbe you'll want somethin' in the +way of refreshments fer yourself an' mebbe + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56"></a></span> + +the el'phant,' he says, an' walked off toward +the tent; an' I stood stun still, lookin' after +him. He got off about a rod or so an' +stopped an' looked back. 'Ain't you comin'?' +he says.</p> + +<p>"'Be I goin' with <i>you</i>?' I says.</p> + +<p>"'Why not?' he says, ''nless you'd ruther +go alone,' an' he put his finger an' thumb +into his vest pocket. Wa'al, ma'am, I looked +at him a minute, with his shiny hat an' boots, +an' fine clo'es, an' gold pin, an' thought of my +ragged ole shirt, an' cotton pants, an' ole chip +hat with the brim most gone, an' my tin pail +an' all. 'I ain't fit to,' I says, ready to cry—an'—wa'al, +he jes' laughed, an' says, 'Nonsense,' +he says, 'come along. A man needn't +be ashamed of his workin' clo'es,' he says, an' +I'm dum'd if he didn't take holt of my hand, +an' in we went that way together."</p> + +<p>"How like him that was!" said the widow +softly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, ma'am, yes, ma'am, I reckon it +was," said David, nodding.</p> + +<p>"Wa'al," he went on after a little pause, +"I was ready to sink into the ground with +shyniss at fust, but that wore off some after a +little, an' we two seen the hull show, I <i>tell</i> ye. +We walked 'round the cages, an' we fed the + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57"></a></span> + +el'phant—that is, he bought the stuff an' I +fed him. I 'member—he, he, he!—'t he says, +'mind you git the right end,' he says, an' +then we got a couple o' seats, an' the doin's +begun." + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58"></a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<p>The widow was looking at David with +shining eyes and devouring his words. All +the years of trouble and sorrow and privation +were wiped out, and she was back in the days +of her girlhood. Ah, yes! how well she remembered +him as he looked that very day—so +handsome, so splendidly dressed, so debonair; +and how proud she had been to sit by his side +that night, observed and envied of all the village +girls.</p> + +<p>"I ain't goin' to go over the hull show," +proceeded David, "well 's I remember it. +The' didn't nothin' git away from me that +afternoon, an' once I come near to stickin' a +piece o' gingerbread into my ear 'stid o' my +mouth. I had my ten-cent piece that Billy P. +give me, but he wouldn't let me buy nothin'; +an' when the gingerbread man come along he +says, 'Air ye hungry, Dave? (I'd told him my +name), air ye hungry?' Wa'al, I was a growin' +boy, an' I was hungry putty much all the + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59"></a></span> + +time. He bought two big squares an' gin me +one, an' when I'd swallered it, he says, 'Guess +you better tackle this one too,' he says, 'I've +dined.' I didn't exac'ly know what 'dined' +meant, but—he, he, he, he!—I tackled it," +and David smacked his lips in memory.</p> + +<p>"Wa'al," he went on, "we done the hull +programmy—gingerbread, lemonade—<i>pink</i> +lemonade, an' he took some o' that—pop corn, +peanuts, pep'mint candy, cin'mun candy—scat +my——! an' he payin' fer ev'rythin'—I +thought he was jes' made o' money! An' I +remember how we talked about all the doin's; +the ridin', an' jumpin', an' summersettin', an' +all—fer he'd got all the shyniss out of me for +the time—an' once I looked up at him, an' he +looked down at me with that curious look in +his eyes an' put his hand on my shoulder. +Wa'al, now, I tell ye, I had a queer, crinkly +feelin' go up an' down my back, an' I like to +up an' cried."</p> + +<p>"Dave," said the widow, "I kin see you +two as if you was settin' there front of me. +He was alwus like that. Oh, my! Oh, my! +David," she added solemnly, while two tears +rolled slowly down her wrinkled face, "we +lived together, husban' an' wife, fer seven +year, an' he never give me a cross word." + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60"></a></span></p> + +<p>"I don't doubt it a mossel," said David +simply, leaning over and poking the fire, +which operation kept his face out of her sight +and was prolonged rather unduly. Finally he +straightened up and, blowing his nose as it +were a trumpet, said:</p> + +<p>"Wa'al, the cirkis fin'ly come to an end, +an' the crowd hustled to git out 's if they was +afraid the tent 'd come down on 'em. I got +kind o' mixed up in 'em, an' somebody tried +to git my tin pail, or I thought he did, an' the +upshot was that I lost sight o' Billy P., an' +couldn't make out to ketch a glimpse of him +nowhere. An' <i>then</i> I kind o' come down to +earth, kerchug! It was five o'clock, an' I had +better 'n four mile to walk—mostly up hill—an' +if I knowed anything 'bout the old man, +an' I thought I <i>did</i>, I had the all-firedist lickin' +ahead of me 't I'd ever got, an' that was sayin' +a good deal. But, boy 's I was, I had grit +enough to allow 't was wuth it, an' off I +put."</p> + +<p>"Did he lick ye much?" inquired Mrs. +Cullom anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Wa'al," replied David, "he done his +best. He was layin' fer me when I struck the +front gate—I knowed it wa'n't no use to try +the back door, an' he took me by the ear—most + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61"></a></span> + +pulled it off—an' marched me off to the +barn shed without a word. I never see him +so mad. Seemed like he couldn't speak fer a +while, but fin'ly he says, 'Where you ben all +day?'</p> + +<p>"'Down t' the village,' I says.</p> + +<p>"'What you ben up to down there?' he +says.</p> + +<p>"'Went to the cirkis,' I says, thinkin' I +might 's well make a clean breast on't.</p> + +<p>"'Where 'd you git the money?' he +says.</p> + +<p>"'Mr. Cullom took me,' I says.</p> + +<p>"'You lie,' he says. 'You stole the money +somewheres, an' I'll trounce it out of ye, if I +kill ye,' he says.</p> + +<p>"Wa'al," said David, twisting his shoulders +in recollection, "I won't harrer up your +feelin's. 'S I told you, he done his best. I +was willin' to quit long 'fore he was. Fact +was, he overdone it a little, an' he had to +throw water in my face 'fore he got through; +an' he done that as thorough as the other +thing. I was somethin' like a chickin jest out +o' the cistern. I crawled off to bed the best I +could, but I didn't lay on my back fer a good +spell, I c'n tell ye."</p> + +<p>"You poor little critter," exclaimed Mrs. + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62"></a></span> + +Cullom sympathetically. "You poor little +critter!"</p> + +<p>"'T was more'n wuth it, Mis' Cullom," +said David emphatically. "I'd had the most +enjoy'ble day, I might say the only enjoy'ble +day, 't I'd ever had in my hull life, an' I hain't +never fergot it. I got over the lickin' in +course of time, but I've ben enjoyin' that cirkis +fer forty year. The' wa'n't but one thing +to hender, an' that's this, that I hain't never +ben able to remember—an' to this day I lay +awake nights tryin' to—that I said 'Thank +ye' to Billy P., an' I never seen him after that +day."</p> + +<p>"How's that?" asked Mrs. Cullom.</p> + +<p>"Wa'al," was the reply, "that day was +the turnin' point with me. The next night I +lit out with what duds I c'd git together, an' +as much grub 's I could pack in that tin pail; +an' the next time I see the old house on Buxton +Hill the' hadn't ben no Harums in it fer +years."</p> + +<p>Here David rose from his chair, yawned +and stretched himself, and stood with his back +to the fire. The widow looked up anxiously +into his face. "Is that all?" she asked after +a while.</p> + +<p>"Wa'al, it is an' it ain't. I've got through + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63"></a></span> + +yarnin' about Dave Harum at any rate, an' +mebbe we'd better have a little confab on your +matters, seem' 't I've got you 'way up here +such a mornin' 's this. I gen'ally do bus'nis +fust an' talkin' afterward," he added, "but I +kind o' got to goin' an' kept on this time."</p> + +<p>He put his hand into the breast pocket of +his coat and took out three papers, which he +shuffled in review as if to verify their identity, +and then held them in one hand, tapping them +softly upon the palm of the other, as if at a +loss how to begin. The widow sat with her +eyes fastened upon the papers, trembling with +nervous apprehension. Presently he broke the +silence.</p> + +<p>"About this here morgige o' your'n," he +said. "I sent ye word that I wanted to close +the matter up, an' seem' 't you're here an' +come fer that purpose, I guess we'd better +make a job on't. The' ain't no time like the +present, as the sayin' is."</p> + +<p>"I s'pose it'll hev to be as you say," said +the widow in a shaking voice.</p> + +<p>"Mis' Cullom," said David solemnly, "<i>you</i> +know, an' I know, that I've got the repitation +of bein' a hard, graspin', schemin' man. +Mebbe I be. Mebbe I've ben hard done by all +my hull life, an' have had to be; an' mebbe, + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64"></a></span> + +now 't I've got ahead some, it's got to be second +nature, an' I can't seem to help it. 'Bus'nis +is bus'nis' ain't part of the golden rule, I +allow, but the way it gen'ally runs, fur 's I've +found out, is, 'Do unto the other feller the +way he'd like to do unto you, an' do it fust.' +But, if you want to keep this thing a-runnin' +as it's goin' on now fer a spell longer, say one +year, or two, or even three, you may, only I've +got somethin' to say to ye 'fore ye elect."</p> + +<p>"Wa'al," said the poor woman, "I expect +it 'd only be pilin' up wrath agin the day o' +wrath. I can't pay the int'rist now without +starvin', an' I hain't got no one to bid in the +prop'ty fer me if it was to be sold."</p> + +<p>"Mis' Cullom," said David, "I said I'd +got somethin' more to tell ye, an' if, when I +git through, you don't think I've treated you +right, includin' this mornin's confab, I hope +you'll fergive me. It's this, an' I'm the only +person livin' that 's knowin' to it, an' in fact I +may say that I'm the only person that ever +was really knowin' to it. It was before you +was married, an' I'm sure he never told ye, +fer I don't doubt he fergot all about it, but +your husband, Billy P. Cullom, that was, made +a small investment once on a time, yes, ma'am, +he did, an' in his kind of careless way it jes' + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65"></a></span> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66"></a></span> + +slipped his mind. The amount of cap'tal he +put in wa'n't large, but the rate of int'rist was +uncommon high. Now, he never drawed no +dividends on't, an' they've ben 'cumulatin' +fer forty year, more or less, at compound +int'rist."</p> + +<p class='center_pix pix_title'><img src="images/065.jpg" width="600" height="306" alt="" /><br /> +<span class="left"><span class="smcap"> David Harum</span>, Act III</span></p> + +<p>The widow started forward, as if to rise +from her seat. David put his hand out gently +and said, "Jest a minute, Mis' Cullom, jest a +minute, till I git through. Part o' that cap'tal," +he resumed, "consistin' of a quarter an' +some odd cents, was invested in the cirkis +bus'nis, an' the rest on't—the cap'tal, an' all +the cash cap'tal that I started in bus'nis with—was +the ten cents your husband give me +that day, an' here," said David, striking the +papers in his left hand with the back of his +right, "<i>here</i> is the <i>dividends</i>! This here second +morgige, not bein' on record, may jest +as well go onto the fire—it's gettin' low—an' +here's a satisfaction piece which I'm goin' to +execute now, that'll clear the thousan' dollar +one. Come in here, John," he called out.</p> + +<p>The widow stared at David for a moment +speechless, but as the significance of his words +dawned upon her, the blood flushed darkly in +her face. She sprang to her feet and, throwing +up her arms, cried out: "My Lord! My + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67"></a></span> + +Lord! Dave! Dave Harum! Is it true?—tell +me it's true! You ain't foolin' me, air ye, +Dave? You wouldn't fool a poor old woman +that never done ye no harm, nor said a mean +word agin ye, would ye? Is it true? an' is +my place clear? an' I don't owe nobody anythin'—I +mean, no money? Tell it agin. Oh, +tell it agin! Oh, Dave! it's too good to be +true! Oh! Oh! Oh, <i>my</i>! an' here I be cryin' +like a great baby, an', an'"—fumbling in +her pocket—"I do believe I hain't got no +hank'chif.—Oh, thank ye," to John; "I'll do it +up an' send it back to-morrer.—Oh, what +made ye do it, Dave?"</p> + +<p>"Set right down an' take it easy, Mis' +Cullom," said David soothingly, putting his +hands on her shoulders and gently pushing +her back into her chair. "Set right down an' +take it easy.—Yes," to John, "I acknowledge +that I signed that."</p> + +<p>He turned to the widow, who sat wiping +her eyes with John's handkerchief.</p> + +<p>"Yes, ma'am," he said, "it's as true as +anythin' kin be. I wouldn't no more fool ye, +ye know I wouldn't, don't ye? than I'd—jerk +a hoss," he asseverated. "Your place is clear +now, an' by this time to-morro' the' won't +be the scratch of a pen agin it. I'll send the + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68"></a></span> + +satisfaction over fer record fust thing in the +mornin'."</p> + +<p>"But, Dave," protested the widow, "I +s'pose ye know what you're doin'——?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," he interposed, "I cal'late I do, +putty near. You ast me why I done it, an' I'll +tell ye if ye want to know. I'm payin' off an +old score, an' gettin' off cheap, too. That's +what I'm doin'! I thought I'd hinted up to it +putty plain, seem' 't I've talked till my jaws +ache; but I'll sum it up to ye if ye like."</p> + +<p>He stood with his feet aggressively wide +apart, one hand in his trousers pocket, and +holding in the other the "morgige," which +he waved from time to time in emphasis.</p> + +<p class='center_pix pix_title'><img src="images/069.jpg" width="600" height="304" alt="" /><br /> +<span class="left"><span class="smcap"> David Harum</span>, Act III</span></p> + +<p>"You c'n estimate, I reckon," he began, +"what kind of a bringin'-up I had, an' what +a poor, mis'able, God-fersaken, scairt-to-death +little forlorn critter I was; put upon, an' +snubbed, an' jawed at till I'd come to believe +myself—what was rubbed into me the hull +time—that I was the most all-'round no-account +animul that was ever made out o' +dust, an' wa'n't ever likely to be no diff'rent. +Lookin' back, it seems to me that—exceptin' +of Polly—I never had a kind word said to me, +nor a day's fun. Your husband, Billy P. Cullom, +was the fust man that ever treated me + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69"></a></span> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70"></a></span> + +human up to that time. He give me the only +enjoy'ble time 't I'd ever had, an' I don't know +'t anythin' 's ever equaled it since. He spent +money on me, an' he give me money to spend—that +had never had a cent to call my own—<i>an'</i>, +Mis' Cullom, he took me by the hand, an' +he talked to me, an' he gin me the fust notion +'t I'd ever had that mebbe I wa'n't only the +scum o' the earth, as I'd ben teached to believe. +I told ye that that day was the turnin' +point of my life. Wa'al, it wa'n't the lickin' I +got, though that had somethin' to do with it, +but I'd never have had the spunk to run away +'s I did if it hadn't ben for the heartenin' Billy +P. gin me, an' never knowed it, an' never +knowed it," he repeated mournfully. "I +alwus allowed to pay some o' that debt back +to him, but seein' 's I can't do that, Mis' Cullom, +I'm glad an' thankful to pay it to his +widdo'."</p> + +<p>"Mebbe he knows, Dave," said Mrs. Cullom +softly.</p> + +<p>"Mebbe he does," assented David in a low +voice.</p> + +<p>Neither spoke for a time, and then the +widow said: "David, I can't thank ye 's I +ought ter—I don't know how—but I'll pray +fer ye night an' mornin' 's long 's I got breath. + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71"></a></span> + +An', Dave," she added humbly, "I want to +take back what I said about the Lord's providin'."</p> + +<p>She sat a moment, lost in her thoughts, +and then exclaimed, "Oh, it don't seem 's if I +c'd wait to write to Charley!"</p> + +<p>"I've wrote to Charley," said David, "an' +told him to sell out there an' come home, an' +to draw on me fer any balance he needed to +move him. I've got somethin' in my eye +that'll be easier an' better payin' than fightin' +grasshoppers an' drought in Kansas."</p> + +<p>"Dave Harum!" cried the widow, rising +to her feet, "you ought to 'a' ben a king!"</p> + +<p>"Wa'al," said David with a grin, "I don't +know much about the kingin' bus'nis, but I +guess a cloth cap 'n' a hoss whip 's more 'n +my line than a crown an' scepter. An' now," +he added, "'s we've got through 'th our bus'nis, +s'pose you step over to the house an' +see Polly. She's expectin' ye to dinner. Oh, +yes," replying to the look of deprecation in +her face as she viewed her shabby frock, "you +an' Polly c'n prink up some if you want to, +but we can't take 'No' fer an answer Chris'must +day, clo'es or no clo'es."</p> + +<p>"I'd really like ter," said Mrs. Cullom.</p> + +<p>"All right then," said David cheerfully. + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72"></a></span> + +"The path is swep' by this time, I guess, an' +I'll see ye later. Oh, by the way," he exclaimed, +"the's somethin' I fergot. I want +to make you a proposition, ruther an onusual +one, but seem' ev'rythin' is as 't is, perhaps +you'll consider it."</p> + +<p>"Dave," declared the widow, "if I could, +an' you ast for it, I'd give ye anythin' on the +face o' this mortal globe!"</p> + +<p>"Wa'al," said David, nodding and smiling, +"I thought that mebbe, long 's you got +the int'rist of that investment we ben talkin' +about, you'd let me keep what's left of the +princ'pal. Would ye like to see it?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cullom looked at him with a puzzled +expression without replying.</p> + +<p>David took from his pocket a large wallet, +secured by a strap, and, opening it, extracted +something enveloped in a much faded brown +paper. Unfolding this, he displayed upon his +broad fat palm an old silver dime black with +age.</p> + +<p>"There's the cap'tal," he said. + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73"></a></span></p> + +<p class='center'><img src="images/073.jpg" width="354" height="550" alt="" /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74"></a></span></p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<p>"Why, Mis' Cullom, I'm real glad to see +ye. Come right in," said Mrs. Bixbee as +she drew the widow into the "wing settin' +room," and proceeded to relieve her of her +wraps and her bundle. "Set right here +by the fire while I take these things of +your'n into the kitchen to dry 'em out. I'll +be right back"; and she bustled out of the +room. When she came back Mrs. Cullom +was sitting with her hands in her lap, and +there was in her eyes an expression of smiling +peace that was good to see.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bixbee drew up a chair, and seating +herself, said: "Wa'al, I don't know when +I've seen ye to git a chance to speak to ye, an' +I was real pleased when David said you was +goin' to be here to dinner. An' my! how +well you're lookin'—more like Cynthy Sweetland +than I've seen ye fer I don't know when; +an' yet," she added, looking curiously at her +guest, "you 'pear somehow as if you'd ben +cryin'." + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75"></a></span></p> + +<p>"You're real kind, I'm sure," responded +Mrs. Cullom, replying to the other's welcome +and remarks <i>seriatim</i>; "I guess, though, +I don't look much like Cynthy Sweetland, if +I do feel twenty years younger 'n I did a while +ago; an' I have ben cryin', I allow, but not fer +sorro', Polly Harum," she exclaimed, giving +the other her maiden name. "Your brother +Dave comes putty nigh to bein' an angel!"</p> + +<p>"Wa'al," replied Mrs. Bixbee with a +twinkle, "I reckon Dave might hev to be +fixed up some afore he come out in that pertic'ler +shape, but," she added impressively, +"es fur as bein' a <i>man</i> goes, he's 'bout 's +good 's they make 'em. I know folks thinks +he's a hard bargainer, an' close-fisted, an' +some on 'em that ain't fit to lick up his tracks +says more'n that. He's got his own ways, +I'll allow, but down at bottom, an' all through, +I know the' ain't no better man livin'. No, +ma'am, the' ain't, an' what he's ben to me, +Cynthy Cullom, nobody knows but me—an'—an'—mebbe +the Lord—though I hev seen +the time," she said tentatively, "when it +seemed to me 't I knowed more about my +affairs 'n He did," and she looked doubtfully +at her companion, who had been following +her with affirmative and sympathetic nods, + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76"></a></span> + +and now drew her chair a little closer, and +said softly: "Yes, yes, I know. I ben putty +doubtful an' rebellious myself a good many +times, but seems now as if He had had me in +His mercy all the time." Here Aunt Polly's +sense of humor asserted itself. "What's Dave +ben up to now?" she asked.</p> + +<p>And then the widow told her story, with +tears and smiles, and the keen enjoyment +which we all have in talking about ourselves +to a sympathetic listener like Aunt Polly, +whose interjections pointed and illuminated +the narrative. When it was finished she +leaned forward and kissed Mrs. Cullom on the +cheek.</p> + +<p>"I can't tell ye how glad I be for ye," she +said; "but if I'd known that David held that +morgige, I could hev told ye ye needn't hev +worried yourself a mite. He wouldn't never +have taken your prop'ty, more'n he'd rob a +hen-roost. But he done the thing his own +way—kind o' fetched it round fer a Merry +Chris'mus, didn't he?" + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77"></a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<p>David's house stood about a hundred feet +back from the street, facing the east. The +main body of the house was of two stories +(through which ran a deep bay in front), with +mansard roof. On the south were two stories +of the "wing," in which were the "settin' +room," Aunt Polly's room, and, above, David's +quarters. Ten minutes or so before one +o'clock John rang the bell at the front door.</p> + +<p>"Sairy's busy," said Mrs. Bixbee apologetically +as she let him in, "an' so I come to +the door myself."</p> + +<p>"Thank you very much," said John. +"Mr. Harum told me to come over a little +before one, but perhaps I ought to have +waited a few minutes longer."</p> + +<p>"No, it's all right," she replied, "for +mebbe you'd like to wash an' fix up 'fore +dinner, so I'll jes' show ye where to," and +she led the way upstairs and into the "front +parlor bedroom." + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78"></a></span></p> + +<p>"There," she said, "make yourself comf'table, +an' dinner 'll be ready in about ten +minutes."</p> + +<p>For a moment John mentally rubbed his +eyes. Then he turned and caught both of +Mrs. Bixbee's hands and looked at her, +speechless. When he found words he said: +"I don't know what to say, nor how to +thank you properly. I don't believe you +know how kind this is."</p> + +<p>"Don't say nothin' about it," she protested, +but with a look of great satisfaction. +"I done it jes' t' relieve my mind, because +ever sence you fus' come I ben worryin' over +your bein' at that nasty tavern," and she +made a motion to go.</p> + +<p>"You and your brother," said John earnestly, +still holding her hands, "have made me +a gladder and happier man this Christmas day +than I have been for a very long time."</p> + +<p>"I'm glad on't," she said heartily, "an' I +hope you'll be comf'table an' contented here. +I must go now an' help Sairy dish up. Come +down to the settin' room when you're ready," +and she gave his hands a little squeeze.</p> + +<p>"Aunt Po——, I beg pardon, Mrs. Bixbee," +said John, moved by a sudden impulse, +"do you think you could find it in your heart + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79"></a></span> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80"></a></span> + +to complete my happiness by giving me a +kiss? It's Christmas, you know," he added +smilingly.</p> + +<p class='center_pix' style="width: 296px"><img src="images/079.jpg" width="296" height="550" alt="" /><br /> +<span class="left"><span class="smcap"> David Harum</span>, Act III</span></p> + +<p>Aunt Polly colored to the roots of her +hair. "Wa'al," she said, with a little laugh, +"seein' 't I'm old enough to be your mother, +I guess 't won't hurt me none," and as she +went down the stairs she softly rubbed her +lips with the side of her forefinger.</p> + +<p>John understood now why David had +looked out of the bank window so often that +morning. All his belongings were in Aunt +Polly's best bedroom, having been moved +over from the Eagle while he and David had +been in the office. A delightful room it was, +in immeasurable contrast to his squalid surroundings +at that hostelry. The spacious +bed, with its snowy counterpane and silk +patchwork "comf'table" folded on the foot, +the bright fire in the open stove, the big +bureau and glass, the soft carpet, the table for +writing and reading standing in the bay, his +books on the broad mantel, and his dressing +things laid out ready to his hand, not to mention +an ample supply of <i>dry</i> towels on the +rack.</p> + +<p>The poor fellow's life during the weeks +which he had lived in Homeville had been + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81"></a></span> + +utterly in contrast with any previous experience. +Nevertheless he had tried to make the +best of it, and to endure the monotony, the +dullness, the entire lack of companionship and +entertainment with what philosophy he could +muster. The hours spent in the office were +the best part of the day. He could manage to +find occupation for all of them, though a village +bank is not usually a scene of active +bustle. Many of the people who did business +there diverted him somewhat, and most +of them seemed never too much in a hurry to +stand around and talk the sort of thing that +interested them. After John had got acquainted +with his duties and the people he +came in contact with, David gave less personal +attention to the affairs of the bank; but +he was in and out frequently during the day, +and rarely failed to interest his cashier with +his observations and remarks.</p> + +<p>But the long winter evenings had been +very bad. After supper, a meal which revolted +every sense, there had been as many +hours to be got through with as he found +wakeful, an empty stomach often adding to +the number of them, and the only resource for +passing the time had been reading, which had +often been well-nigh impossible for sheer + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82"></a></span> + +physical discomfort. As has been remarked, +the winter climate of the middle portion of +New York State is as bad as can be imagined. +His light was a kerosene lamp of half-candle +power, and his appliance for warmth consisted +of a small wood stove, which (as David +would have expressed it) "took two men an' +a boy" to keep in action, and was either red +hot or exhausted.</p> + +<p>As from the depths of a spacious lounging +chair he surveyed his new surroundings, and +contrasted them with those from which he +had been rescued out of pure kindness, his +heart was full, and it can hardly be imputed +to him as a weakness that for a moment his +eyes filled with tears of gratitude and happiness—no +less.</p> + +<p>Indeed, there were four happy people at +David's table that Christmas day. Aunt Polly +had "smartened up" Mrs. Cullom with collar +and cuffs, and in various ways which the +mind of man comprehendeth not in detail; and +there had been some arranging of her hair as +well, which altogether had so transformed +and transfigured her that John thought that he +should hardly have known her for the forlorn +creature whom he had encountered in the +morning. And as he looked at the still fine + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83"></a></span> + +eyes, large and brown, and shining for the first +time in many a year with a soft light of happiness, +he felt that he could understand how +it was that Billy P. had married the village +girl.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bixbee was grand in black silk and +lace collar fastened with a shell-cameo pin not +quite as large as a saucer, and John caught the +sparkle of a diamond on her plump left hand—David's +Christmas gift—with regard to +which she had spoken apologetically to Mrs. +Cullom:</p> + +<p>"I told David that I was ever so much +obliged to him, but I didn't want a dimun' +more'n a cat wanted a flag, an' I thought it +was jes' throwin' away money. But he would +have it—said I c'd sell it an' keep out the poor-house +some day, mebbe."</p> + +<p>David had not made much change in his +usual raiment, but he was shaved to the blood, +and his round red face shone with soap and +satisfaction. As he tucked his napkin into his +shirt collar, Sairy brought in the tureen of +oyster soup, and he remarked, as he took his +first spoonful of the stew, that he was "hungry +'nough t' eat a graven imidge," a condition +that John was able to sympathize with +after his two days of fasting on crackers and + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84"></a></span> + +such provisions as he could buy at Purse's. +It was, on the whole, he reflected, the most +enjoyable dinner that he ever ate. Never was +such a turkey; and to see it give way under +David's skillful knife—wings, drumsticks, second +joints, side bones, breast—was an elevating +and memorable experience. And such +potatoes, mashed in cream; such boiled onions, +turnips, Hubbard squash, succotash, +stewed tomatoes, celery, cranberries, "currant +jell!" Oh! and to "top off" with, a mince +pie to die for and a pudding (new to John, but +just you try it some time) of steamed Indian +meal and fruit, with a sauce of cream sweetened +with shaved maple sugar.</p> + +<p>"What'll you have?" said David to Mrs. +Cullom, "dark meat? white meat?"</p> + +<p>"Anything," she replied meekly, "I'm not +partic'ler. Most any part of a turkey 'll taste +good, I guess."</p> + +<p>"All right," said David. "Don't care +means a little o' both. I alwus know what to +give Polly—piece o' the second jint an' the +last-thing-over-the-fence. Nice 'n rich fer +scraggly folks," he remarked. "How fer you, +John?—little o' both, eh?" and he heaped the +plate till our friend begged him to keep something +for himself. + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85"></a></span></p> + +<p>"Little too much is jes' right," he asserted.</p> + +<p>When David had filled the plates and +handed them along—Sairy was for bringing in +and taking out; they did their own helping to +vegetables and "passin'"—he hesitated a moment, +and then got out of his chair and started +in the direction of the kitchen door.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" asked Mrs. Bixbee +in surprise. "Where you goin'?"</p> + +<p>"Woodshed!" said David.</p> + +<p>"Woodshed!" she exclaimed, making as +if to rise and follow.</p> + +<p>"You set still," said David. "Somethin' +I fergot."</p> + +<p>"What on earth?" she exclaimed, with an +air of annoyance and bewilderment. "What +do you want in the woodshed? Can't you +set down an' let Sairy git it fer ye?"</p> + +<p>"No," he asserted with a grin. "Sairy +might sqush it. It must be putty meller by +this time." And out he went.</p> + +<p>"Manners!" ejaculated Mrs. Bixbee. +"You'll think (to John) we're reg'ler heathin'."</p> + +<p>"I guess not," said John, smiling and much +amused.</p> + +<p>Presently Sairy appeared with four tumblers + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86"></a></span> + +which she distributed, and was followed by +David bearing a bottle. He seated himself and +began a struggle to unwire the same with an +ice-pick. Aunt Polly leaned forward with a +look of perplexed curiosity.</p> + +<p>"What you got there?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Vewve Clikot's universal an' suv'rin remedy," +said David, reading the label and bringing +the corners of his eye and mouth almost +together in a wink to John, "fer toothache, +earache, burns, scalds, warts, dispepsy, fallin' +o' the hair, windgall, ringbone, spavin, disapp'inted +affections, an' pips in hens," and out +came the cork with a "<i>wop</i>," at which both +the ladies, even Mrs. Cullom, jumped and cried +out.</p> + +<p>"David Harum," declared his sister with +conviction, "I believe thet that's a bottle of +champagne."</p> + +<p>"If it ain't," said David, pouring into his +tumbler, "I ben swindled out o' four shillin'," +and he passed the bottle to John, who held it +up inquiringly, looking at Mrs. Bixbee.</p> + +<p>"No, thank ye," she said with a little toss +of the head, "I'm a son o' temp'rence. I don't +believe," she remarked to Mrs. Cullom, "thet +that bottle ever cost <i>less</i> 'n a dollar." At +which remarks David apparently "swallered + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87"></a></span> + +somethin' the wrong way," and for a moment +or two was unable to proceed with his dinner. +Aunt Polly looked at him suspiciously. It was +her experience that, in her intercourse with +her brother, he often laughed utterly without +reason—so far as she could see.</p> + +<p>"I've always heard it was dreadful expensive," +remarked Mrs. Cullom.</p> + +<p>"Let me give you some," said John, +reaching toward her with the bottle. Mrs. +Cullom looked first at Mrs. Bixbee and then +at David.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," she said. "I never tasted +any."</p> + +<p>"Take a little," said David, nodding approvingly.</p> + +<p>"Just a swallow," said the widow, whose +curiosity had got the better of scruples. She +took a swallow of the wine.</p> + +<p>"How do you like it," asked David.</p> + +<p>"Well," she said as she wiped her eyes, +into which the gas had driven the tears, "I +guess I could get along if I couldn't have it +regular."</p> + +<p>"Don't taste good?" suggested David with +a grin.</p> + +<p>"Well," she replied, "I never did care any +great for cider, and this tastes to me about as + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88"></a></span> + +if I was drinkin' cider an' snuffin' horseredish +at one and the same time."</p> + +<p>"How's that, John?" said David, laughing.</p> + +<p>"I suppose it's an acquired taste," said +John, returning the laugh and taking a mouthful +of the wine with infinite relish. "I don't +think I ever enjoyed a glass of wine so much, +or," turning to Aunt Polly, "ever enjoyed a +dinner so much," which statement completely +mollified her feelings, which had been the least +bit in the world "set edgeways."</p> + +<p>"Mebbe your app'tite's got somethin' to +do with it," said David, shoveling a knife-load +of good things into his mouth. "Polly, this +young man's ben livin' on crackers an' salt +herrin' fer a week."</p> + +<p>"My land!" cried Mrs. Bixbee with an +expression of horror. "Is that reelly so? +'T ain't now, reelly?"</p> + +<p>"Not quite so bad as that," John answered, +smiling; "but Mrs. Elright has been ill for a +couple of days and—well, I have been foraging +around Purse's store a little."</p> + +<p>"Wa'al, of all the mean shames!" exclaimed +Aunt Polly indignantly. "David +Harum, you'd ought to be ridic'lous t' allow +such a thing."</p> + +<p class='center_pix pix_title'><img src="images/089.jpg" width="600" height="304" alt="" /><br /> +<span class="left"><span class="smcap"> David Harum</span>, Act III</span></p> + +<p>"Wa'al, I never!" said David, holding his + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89"></a></span> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90"></a></span> + +knife and fork straight up in either fist as they +rested on the table, and staring at his sister. +"I believe if the meetin'-house roof was to +blow off you'd lay it on to me somehow. I +hain't ben runnin' the Eagle tavern fer quite a +consid'able while. You got the wrong pig by +the ear as usual. Jes' you pitch into him," +pointing with his fork to John. "It's his +funeral, if anybody's."</p> + +<p>"Wa'al," said Aunt Polly, addressing John +in a tone of injury, "I do think you might +have let somebody know; I think you'd ortter +'ve known——"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mrs. Bixbee," he interrupted, "I +did know how kind you are and would have +been, and if matters had gone on so much +longer I should have appealed to you, I should +have indeed; but really," he added, smiling +at her, "a dinner like this is worth fasting a +week for."</p> + +<p>"Wa'al," she said, mollified again, "you +won't git no more herrin' 'nless you ask for +'em."</p> + +<p>"That is just what your brother said this +morning," replied John, looking at David with +a laugh. + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91"></a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<p>The meal proceeded in silence for a few +minutes. Mrs. Cullom had said but little, but +John noticed that her diction was more conventional +than in her talk with David and +himself in the morning, and that her manner +at the table was distinctly refined, although she +ate with apparent appetite, not to say hunger. +Presently she said, with an air of making conversation, +"I suppose you've always lived in +the city, Mr. Lenox?"</p> + +<p>"It has always been my home," he replied, +"but I have been away a good +deal."</p> + +<p>"I suppose folks in the city go to theaters +a good deal," she remarked.</p> + +<p>"They have a great many opportunities," +said John, wondering what she was leading +up to. But he was not to discover, for David +broke in with a chuckle.</p> + +<p>"Ask Polly, Mis' Cullom," he said. "She +c'n tell ye all about the theater, Polly kin." + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92"></a></span> + +Mrs. Cullom looked from David to Mrs. Bixbee, +whose face was suffused.</p> + +<p>"Tell her," said David, with a grin.</p> + +<p>"I wish you'd shet up," she exclaimed. +"I sha'n't do nothin' of the sort."</p> + +<p>"Ne' mind," said David cheerfully. "<i>I'll</i> +tell ye, Mis' Cullom."</p> + +<p>"Dave Harum!" expostulated Mrs. Bixbee, +but he proceeded without heed of her +protest.</p> + +<p>"Polly an' I," he said, "went down to +New York one spring some years ago. Her +nerves was some wore out 'long of diff'rences +with Sairy about clearin' up the woodshed, +an' bread risin's, an' not bein' able to suit herself +up to Purse's in the qual'ty of silk velvit +she wanted fer a Sunday-go-to-meetin' gown, +an' I thought a spell off 'd do her good. +Wa'al, the day after we got there I says to +her while we was havin' breakfust—it was +picked-up el'phant on toast, near 's I c'n +remember, wa'n't it, Polly?"</p> + +<p>"That's as near the truth as most o' the +rest on't so fur," said Polly with a sniff.</p> + +<p>"Wa'al, I says to her," he proceeded, untouched +by her scorn, "'How'd you like to +go t' the theater? You hain't never ben,' I +says, 'an' now you're down here you may + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93"></a></span> + +jes' as well see somethin' while you got a +chanst,' I says. Up to that <i>time</i>," he remarked, +as it were in passing, "she'd ben +somewhat pre<i>juced</i> 'ginst theaters, an'——"</p> + +<p>"Wa'al," Mrs. Bixbee broke in, "I guess +what we see that night was cal'lated——"</p> + +<p>"You hold on," he interposed. "I'm +tellin' this story. You had a chanst to an' +wouldn't. Anyway," he resumed, "she +allowed she'd try it once, an' we agreed we'd +go somewheres that night. But somethin' +happened to put it out o' my mind, an' I +didn't think on't agin till I got back to the +hotel fer supper. So I went to the feller at the +news-stand an' says, 'Got any show-tickits +fer to-night?'</p> + +<p>"'Theater?' he says.</p> + +<p>"'I reckon so,' I says.</p> + +<p>"'Wa'al,' he says, 'I hain't got nothin' +now but two seats fer "Clyanthy."'</p> + +<p>"'Is it a good show?' I says—'moral, an' +so on? I'm goin' to take my sister, an' she's +a little pertic'ler about some things,' I says. +He kind o' grinned, the feller did. 'I've took +my wife twice, an' she's putty pertic'ler herself,' +he says, laughin'."</p> + +<p>"She must 'a' ben," remarked Mrs. Bixbee +with a sniff that spoke volumes of her opinion + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94"></a></span> + +of "the feller's wife." David emitted a +chuckle.</p> + +<p>"Wa'al," he continued, "I took the tickits +on the feller's recommend, an' the fact of his +wife's bein' so pertic'ler, an' after supper we +went. It was a mighty handsome place +inside, gilded an' carved all over like the outside +of a cirkis wagin, an' when we went in +the orchestry was playin' an' the people was +comin' in, an' after we'd set a few minutes I +says to Polly, 'What do you think on't?' I +says.</p> + +<p>"'I don't see anythin' very unbecomin' so +fur, an' the people looks respectable enough,' +she says.</p> + +<p>"'No jail birds in sight fur 's ye c'n see so +fur, be they?' I says. He, he, he, he!"</p> + +<p>"You needn't make me out more of a +gump 'n I was," protested Mrs. Bixbee. +"An' you was jest as——" David held up +his finger at her.</p> + +<p>"Don't you sp'ile the story by discountin' +the sequil. Wa'al, putty soon the band struck +up some kind of a dancin' tune, an' the curt'in +went up, an' a girl come prancin' down to +the footlights an' begun singin' an' dancin', +an', scat my——! to all human appearances +you c'd 'a' covered ev'ry dum thing she had + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95"></a></span> + +on with a postage stamp." John stole a +glance at Mrs. Cullom. She was staring at +the speaker with wide-open eyes of horror +and amazement.</p> + +<p>"I guess I wouldn't go very <i>fur</i> into pertic'lers," +said Mrs. Bixbee in a warning tone.</p> + +<p>David bent his head down over his plate +and shook from head to foot, and it was +nearly a minute before he was able to go on. +"Wa'al," he said, "I heard Polly give a kind +of a gasp an' a snort, 's if some one 'd throwed +water 'n her face. But she didn't say nothin', +an', I swan! I didn't dast to look at her fer a +spell; an' putty soon in come a hull crowd +more girls that had left their clo'es in their +trunks or somewhere, singin', an' dancin', an' +weavin' 'round on the stage, an' after a few +minutes I turned an' looked at Polly. He, he, +he, he!"</p> + +<p>"David Harum," cried Mrs. Bixbee, "ef +you're goin' to discribe any more o' them +scand'lous goin's on I sh'll take my victuals +into the kitchen. <i>I</i> didn't see no more of +'em," she added to Mrs. Cullom and John, +"after that fust trollop appeared."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe she did," said David, "fer +when I turned she set there with her eyes +shut tighter 'n a drum, an' her mouth shut + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96"></a></span> + +too so's her nose an' chin most come +together, an' her face was red enough so 't a +streak o' red paint 'd 'a' made a white mark +on it. 'Polly,' I says, 'I'm afraid you ain't +gettin' the wuth o' your money.'</p> + +<p>"'David Harum,' she says, with her +mouth shut all but a little place in the corner +toward me, 'if you don't take me out +o' this place, I'll go without ye,' she says.</p> + +<p>"'Don't you think you c'd stan' it a little +longer?' I says. 'Mebbe they've sent home +fer their clo'es,' I says. He, he, he, he! But +with that she jes' give a hump to start, an' I +see she meant bus'nis. When Polly Bixbee," +said David impressively, "puts that foot +o' her'n <i>down</i> somethin's got to sqush, an' +don't you fergit it." Mrs. Bixbee made +no acknowledgment of this tribute to +her strength of character. John looked at +David.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said, with a solemn bend of +the head, as if in answer to a question, "I +squshed. I says to her, 'All right. Don't +make no disturbance more'n you c'n help, an' +jes' put your hank'chif up to your nose 's if +you had the nosebleed,' an' we squeezed out +of the seats, an' sneaked up the aisle, an' by +the time we got out into the entry I guess my + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97"></a></span> + +face was as red as Polly's. It couldn't 'a' ben +no redder," he added.</p> + +<p>"You got a putty fair color as a gen'ral +thing," remarked Mrs. Bixbee dryly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, ma'am; yes, ma'am, I expect that's +so," he assented, "but I got an extra coat o' +tan follerin' you out o' that theater. When +we got out into the entry one o' them fellers +that stands 'round steps up to me an' says, +'Ain't your ma feelin' well?' he says. 'Her +feelin's has ben a trifle rumpled up,' I says, +'an' that gen'ally brings on the nosebleed,' +an' then," said David, looking over Mrs. Bixbee's +head, "the feller went an' leaned up +agin the wall."</p> + +<p>"David Harum!" exclaimed Mrs. Bixbee, +"that's a downright <i>lie</i>. You never spoke to +a soul, an'—an'—ev'rybody knows 't I ain't +more 'n four years older 'n you be."</p> + +<p>"Wa'al, you see, Polly," her brother replied +in a smooth tone of measureless aggravation, +"the feller wa'n't acquainted with us, +an' he only went by appearances."</p> + +<p>Aunt Polly appealed to John: "Ain't he +enough to—to—I d' know what?"</p> + +<p>"I really don't see how you live with +him," said John, laughing.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cullom's face wore a faint smile, as + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98"></a></span> + +if she were conscious that something amusing +was going on, but was not quite sure what. +The widow took things seriously for the most +part, poor soul.</p> + +<p>"I reckon you haven't followed theater-goin' +much after that," she said to her +hostess.</p> + +<p>"No, ma'am," Mrs. Bixbee replied with +emphasis, "you better believe I hain't. I +hain't never thought of it sence without tinglin' +all over. I believe," she asserted, "that +David 'd 'a' stayed the thing out if it hadn't +ben fer me; but as true 's you live, Cynthy +Cullom, I was so 'shamed at the little 't I did +see that when I come to go to bed I took my +clo'es off in the dark."</p> + +<p>David threw back his head and roared +with laughter. Mrs. Bixbee looked at him +with unmixed scorn. "If I couldn't help +makin' a——" she began, "I'd——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lord! Polly," David broke in, "be +sure 'n wrap up when you go out. If you +sh'd ketch cold an' your sense o' the ridic'lous +sh'd strike in you'd be a dead-'n'-goner sure." +This was treated with the silent contempt +which it deserved, and David fell upon his +dinner with the remark that "he guessed +he'd better make up fer lost time," though as + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99"></a></span> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100"></a></span> + +a matter of fact while he had done most of +the talking he had by no means suspended +another function of his mouth while so +engaged.</p> + +<p class='center'><img src="images/099.jpg" width="362" height="550" alt="" /></p> + +<p>For a time nothing more was said which +did not relate to the replenishment of plates, +glasses, and cups. Finally David cleaned up +his plate with his knife blade and a piece of +bread, and pushed it away with a sigh of fullness, +mentally echoed by John.</p> + +<p>"I feel 's if a child could play with +me," he remarked. "What's comin' now, +Polly?"</p> + +<p>"The's a mince pie, an' Injun puddin' +with maple sugar an' cream, an' ice cream," +she replied.</p> + +<p>"Mercy on us!" he exclaimed. "I guess +I'll have to go an' jump up an' down on the +verandy. How do you feel, John? I s'pose +you got so used to them things at the Eagle 't +you won't have no stomech fer 'em, eh? +Wa'al, fetch 'em along. May 's well die fer +the ole sheep 's the lamb; but, Polly Bixbee, +if you've got designs on my life, I may 's well +tell ye right now 't I've left all my prop'ty +to the Institution fer Disappinted Hoss +Swappers."</p> + +<p>"That's putty near next o' kin, ain't it?" + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101"></a></span> + +was the unexpected rejoinder of the injured +Polly.</p> + +<p>"Wa'al, scat my——!" exclaimed David, +hugely amused, "if Polly Bixbee hain't made +a joke! You'll git yourself into the almanic, +Polly, fust thing you know." Sairy brought +in the pie and then the pudding.</p> + +<p>"John," said David, "if you've got a +pencil an' a piece o' paper handy I'd like to +have ye take down a few of my last words +'fore we proceed to the pie an' puddin' bus'nis. +Any more 'hossredish' in that bottle?" +holding out his glass. "Hi, hi! that's enough. +You take the rest on't," which John did, +nothing loath.</p> + +<p>David ate his pie in silence, but before he +made up his mind to attack the pudding, +which was his favorite confection, he gave an +audible chuckle, which elicited Mrs. Bixbee's +notice.</p> + +<p>"What you gigglin' 'bout now?" she +asked.</p> + +<p>David laughed. "I was thinkin' of somethin' +I heard up to Purse's last night," he +said as he covered his pudding with the thick +cream sauce. "Amri Shapless has ben gittin' +married."</p> + +<p>"Wa'al, I declare!" she exclaimed. + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102"></a></span> + +"That ole shack! Who in creation could +he git to take him?"</p> + +<p>"Lize Annis is the lucky woman," replied +David with a grin.</p> + +<p>"Wa'al, if that don't beat all!" said Mrs. +Bixbee, throwing up her hands, and even +from Mrs. Cullom was drawn a "Well, I +never!"</p> + +<p>"Fact," said David, "they was married +yestidy forenoon. Squire Parker done the +job. Dominie White wouldn't have nothin' +to do with it!"</p> + +<p>"Squire Parker 'd ortter be 'shamed of +himself," said Mrs. Bixbee indignantly.</p> + +<p>"Don't you think that trew love had +ought to be allowed to take its course?" +asked David with an air of sentiment.</p> + +<p>"I think the squire 'd ortter be 'shamed +of himself," she reiterated. "S'pose them +two old skinamulinks was to go an' have +children?"</p> + +<p>"Polly, you make me blush," protested +her brother. "Hain't you got no respect fer +the holy institution of matrimuny?—and—at +cet'ry?" he added, wiping his whole face +with his napkin.</p> + +<p>"Much as you hev, I reckon," she retorted. +"Of all the amazin' things in this + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103"></a></span> + +world, the amazinist to me is the kind of +people that gits married to each other in gen'ral; +but this here performence beats ev'rything +holler."</p> + +<p>"Amri give a very good reason for't," said +David with an air of conviction, and then he +broke into a laugh.</p> + +<p>"Ef you got anythin' to tell, tell it," said +Mrs. Bixbee impatiently.</p> + +<p>"Wa'al," said David, taking the last of +his pudding into his mouth, "if you insist +on't, painful as 't is. I heard Dick Larrabee +tellin' 'bout it. Amri told Dick day before +yestiday that he was thinkin' of gettin' married, +an' ast him to go along with him to Parson +White's an' be a witniss, an' I reckon a +kind of moral support. When it comes to +moral supportin'," remarked David in passing, +"Dick's as good 's a professional, an' he'd go +an' see his gran'mother hung sooner 'n miss +anythin', an' never let his cigar go out durin' +the performence. Dick said he congratilated +Am on his choice, an' said he reckoned they'd +be putty ekally yoked together, if nothin' else."</p> + +<p>Here David leaned over toward Aunt Polly +and said, protestingly, "Don't gi' me but jest +a teasp'nful o' that ice cream. I'm so full now +'t I can't hardly reach the table." He took a + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104"></a></span> + +taste of the cream and resumed: "I can't give +it jest as Dick did," he went on, "but this is +about the gist on't. Him, an' Lize, an' Am +went to Parson White's about half after seven +o'clock an' was showed into the parler, an' in +a minute he come in, an' after sayin' 'Good +evenin'' all 'round, he says, 'Well, what c'n +I do fer ye?' lookin' at Am an' Lize, an' then +at Dick.</p> + +<p>"'Wa'al,' says Am, 'me an' Mis' Annis +here has ben thinkin' fer some time as how +we'd ought to git married.'</p> + +<p>"'<i>Ought</i> to git married?' says Parson +White, scowlin' fust at one an' then at t'other.</p> + +<p>"'Wa'al,' says Am, givin' a kind o' shuffle +with his feet, 'I didn't mean <i>ortter</i> exac'ly, +but jest as <i>well</i>—kinder comp'ny,' he says. +'We hain't neither on us got nobody, an' we +thought we might 's well.'</p> + +<p>"'What have you got to git married on?' +says the dominie after a minute. 'Anythin'?' +he says.</p> + +<p>"'Wa'al,' says Am, droppin' his head +sideways an' borin' into his ear 'ith his middle +finger, 'I got the promise mebbe of a job +o' work fer a couple o' days next week.' +'H'm'm'm,' says the dominie, lookin' at him. +'Have <i>you</i> got anythin' to git married on?' + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105"></a></span> + +the dominie says, turnin' to Lize. 'I've got +ninety cents comin' to me fer some work I +done last week,' she says, wiltin' down on to +the sofy an' beginnin' to snivvle. Dick says +that at that the dominie turned round an' +walked to the other end of the room, an' +he c'd see he was dyin' to laugh, but he come +back with a straight face.</p> + +<p>"'How old air you, Shapless?' he says +to Am. 'I'll be fifty-eight or mebbe fifty-nine +come next spring,' says Am.</p> + +<p>"'How old air <i>you</i>?' the dominie says, +turnin' to Lize. She wriggled a minute an' +says, 'Wa'al, I reckon I'm all o' thirty,' she +says."</p> + +<p>"All o' thirty!" exclaimed Aunt Polly. +"The woman 's most 's old 's I be."</p> + +<p>David laughed and went on with, "Wa'al, +Dick said at that the dominie give a kind of a +choke, an' Dick he bust right out, an' Lize +looked at him as if she c'd eat him. Dick +said the dominie didn't say anythin' fer a +minute or two, an' then he says to Am, 'I +suppose you c'n find somebody that'll marry +you, but I cert'inly won't, an' what possesses +you to commit such a piece o' folly,' he says, +'passes my understandin'. What earthly reason +have you fer wantin' to marry? On your + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106"></a></span> + +own showin',' he says, 'neither one on you 's +got a cent o' money or any settled way o' gettin' +any.'</p> + +<p class='center'><img src="images/106.jpg" width="365" height="550" alt="" /></p> + +<p>"'That's jes' the very reason,' says Am, +'that's jes' the <i>very reason</i>. I hain't got +nothin', an' Mis' Annis hain't got nothin', an' +we figured that we'd jes' better git married an' + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107"></a></span> + +settle down, an' make a good home fer us +both,' an' if that ain't good reasonin'," David +concluded, "I don't know what is."</p> + +<p>"An' be they actially married?" asked +Mrs. Bixbee, still incredulous of anything so +preposterous.</p> + +<p>"So Dick says," was the reply. "He says +Am an' Lize come away f'm the dominie's +putty down in the mouth, but 'fore long Amri +braced up an' allowed that if he had half a +dollar he'd try the squire in the mornin', an' +Dick let him have it. I says to Dick, 'You're +out fifty cents on that deal,' an' he says, slappin' +his leg, 'I don't give a dum,' he says; 'I +wouldn't 'a' missed it fer double the money.'"</p> + +<p>Here David folded his napkin and put it in +the ring, and John finished the cup of clear +coffee which Aunt Polly, rather under protest, +had given him. Coffee without cream and +sugar was incomprehensible to Mrs. Bixbee.<br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<p class='center'>THE END</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Transcriber's Note:</p> + +<p>Inconsistencies in spelling, punctuation and hyphenation in the original book have been retained.</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Christmas Story from David Harum, by +Edward Noyes Westcott + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHRISTMAS STORY FROM DAVID HARUM *** + +***** This file should be named 25927-h.htm or 25927-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/5/9/2/25927/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Bruce Thomas and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +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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