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diff --git a/old/44153-h/44153-h.htm b/old/44153-h/44153-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 0ecac0b..0000000 --- a/old/44153-h/44153-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,4454 +0,0 @@ -<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> - -<!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" lang="en"> -<head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> -<title> -The Adventures of a Suburbanite, by Ellis Parker Butler -</title> -<style type="text/css"> - <!-- - body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} - P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } - H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } - hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} - .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } - blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} - .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} - .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} - .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} - div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } - div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } - .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} - .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} - .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 100%; font-style:normal; - margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; - text-align: right;} - .side { float: left; font-size: 75%; width: 25%; padding-left: 0.8em; - border-left: dashed thin; text-align: left; - text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; - font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: solid 1px;} - p.pfirst, p.noindent {text-indent: 0} - span.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; line-height: 1 } - pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} - --> -</style> -</head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -Project Gutenberg's The Adventures Of A Suburbanite, by Ellis Parker Butler - -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 Adventures Of A Suburbanite - -Author: Ellis Parker Butler - -Illustrator: A. B. Phelan - -Release Date: November 10, 2013 [EBook #44153] -Last Updated: March 11, 2018 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ADVENTURES OF A SUBURBANITE *** - - - - -Produced by David Widger - - - - - -</pre> - -<div style="height: 8em;"> -<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> -</div> -<h1> -THE ADVENTURES OF A SUBURBANITE -</h1> -<h2> -By Ellis Parker Butler -</h2> -<p> -<br /> -</p> -<h3> -Illustrated by A. B. Phelan -</h3> -<p> -<br /> -</p> -<h4> -Garden City New York Doubleday, Page & Company <br /> <br /> 1911 -</h4> -<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> -<img src="images/titlepage.png" alt="titlepage" width="100%" /><br /> -</div> -<p> -<br /> -</p> -<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> -<img src="images/10.png" alt="10" width="100%" /><br /> -</div> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<p> -<b>CONTENTS</b> -</p> -<p class="toc"> -<a href="#link2H_4_0001"> I. THE PRAWLEYS </a> -</p> -<p class="toc"> -<a href="#link2H_4_0002"> II. MR. PRAWLEY'S GARDEN </a> -</p> -<p class="toc"> -<a href="#link2H_4_0003"> III. THE EQUINE PALACE </a> -</p> -<p class="toc"> -<a href="#link2H_4_0004"> IV. “BOB” </a> -</p> -<p class="toc"> -<a href="#link2H_4_0005"> V. THE NEW MR. PRAWLEY </a> -</p> -<p class="toc"> -<a href="#link2H_4_0006"> VI. THE SPECKLED HEN </a> -</p> -<p class="toc"> -<a href="#link2H_4_0007"> VII. CHESTERFIELD WHITING </a> -</p> -<p class="toc"> -<a href="#link2H_4_0008"> VIII. SALTED ALMONDS </a> -</p> -<p class="toc"> -<a href="#link2H_4_0009"> IX. THE ROYAL GAME OR SEVERAL DAYS AFTER THE PIG -EPISODE </a> -</p> -<p class="toc"> -<a href="#link2H_4_0010"> X. ADVANCED GOLF </a> -</p> -<p class="toc"> -<a href="#link2H_4_0011"> XI. MY DOMESTICATED AUTOMOBILE </a> -</p> -<p class="toc"> -<a href="#link2H_4_0012"> XII. MR. PRAWLEY RETURNS </a> -</p> -<p class="toc"> -<a href="#link2H_4_0013"> XIII. MILLINGTON'S MOTOR MYSTERY </a> -</p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> </a> -</p> -<div style="height: 4em;"> -<br /><br /><br /><br /> -</div> -<h2> -I. THE PRAWLEYS -</h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>SOBEL was born in a flat, and that was no fault of her own; but she was -born in a flat, and reared in a flat, and married from a flat, and, for -two years after we were married, we lived in a flat; but I am not a born -flat-dweller myself, and as soon as possible I proposed that we move to -the country. Isobel hesitated, but she hesitated so weakly that on the -first of May we had bought the place at Westcote and moved into it. -</p> -<p> -The very day I moved into my house Millington came over and said he was -glad some one had moved in, because the last man that had lived in the -house was afraid of automobiles, and would never take a spin with him. He -said he hoped I was not afraid; and when I said I was not, he immediately -proposed that we take a little spin out to Port Lafayette as soon as I had -my furniture straightened around. I thought it was very nice and -neighbourly and unusual for a man with an automobile to begin an -acquaintance that way; but I did not know Millington's automobile so well -then as I grew to know it afterward. -</p> -<p> -I liked Millington. He was a short, Napoleon-looking man, with bulldog -jaws and not very much hair, and I was glad to have him for a neighbour, -particularly as my neighbour on the other side was a tall, haughty-looking -man. He leaned on the division fence and stared all the while our -furniture was being moved in. I spoke to Millington about him, and all -Millington said was: “Rolfs? Oh, he's no good! He won't ride in an -automobile.” - </p> -<p> -At first, while we were really getting settled in our house, Isobel was -bright and cheerful and seemed to have forgotten flats entirely but on the -tenth of May I saw a change coming over her, and when I spoke of it she -opened her heart to me. -</p> -<p> -“John,” she said, “I am afraid I cannot stand it. I shall try to, for your -sake, but I do not think I can. I am so lonely! I feel like an atom -floating in space.” - </p> -<p> -“Isobel!” I said kindly but reprovingly. “With the Millingtons on one side -and the Rolfs on the other?” - </p> -<p> -“I know,” she admitted contritely enough; “but you can't understand. -Always and always, since I was born, some one has lived overhead, and some -one has lived underneath. Sometimes only the janitor lived underneath—” - </p> -<p> -“Isobel,” I said, “if you will try to explain what you mean—” - </p> -<p> -“I mean flats,” she said dolefully. “I always lived in a flat, John, and -there was always a family above and a family below, and it frightens me to -think I am in a house where there is no family above me, and not even a -janitor's family below me. It makes me feel naked, or suspended in air, or -as if there was no ground under my feet. It makes me gasp!” - </p> -<p> -“That is nonsense!” I said. “That is the beauty of having a house. We have -it all to ourselves. Now, in a flat—” - </p> -<p> -“We had our flat all to ourselves, John,” she reminded me; “but a flat -isn't so unbounded as a house. Just think; there is nothing between us and -the top of the sky! Not a single family! It makes me nervous. And there is -nothing beneath us!” - </p> -<p> -“Now, my dear,” I said soothingly, “China is beneath us, and no doubt a -very respectable family is keeping house directly below.” - </p> -<p> -Isobel sighed contentedly. -</p> -<p> -“I am so glad you thought of that!” she cried. “Now, when I feel lonely, I -can imagine I feel the house jar as the Chinese family move their piano, -or I can imagine that I hear their phonograph.” - </p> -<p> -“Very good,” I said; “and if you can imagine all that, why cannot you -imagine a family overhead, too? The whole attic is there. Very well; I -give up the entire attic to your imagination.” - </p> -<p> -Then I kissed her and went into the back garden. My opinion is that the -man that laid out that back garden was over-sanguine. I am passionately -fond of gardening, and believe in back gardens; but at the present price -of seed and the present hardness of hoe handles, I think that back garden -is too large. This is not a mere flash opinion, either; it is a matter of -study. The first day I stuck spade into that garden I had given little -thought to its size, but by the time I had spaded all day I began to have -a pretty well-defined opinion of gardens and how large they should be, and -by the end of the third day of spading I believe I may say I was well -equipped to testify as an expert on garden sizes. That was the day the -blisters on my hands became raw. -</p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="linkimage-0001" id="linkimage-0001"> </a> -</p> -<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> -<img src="images/25.png" alt="25" width="100%" /><br /> -</div> -<p> -The day after my little conversation with Isobel I returned home from -business to find her awaiting me at the gate. She wore a bright smile, and -she put her hand through my arm and hopped into step with me. -</p> -<p> -“John,” she said cheerfully, “the Prawleys moved in to-day.” - </p> -<p> -“The Prawleys? Who are the Prawleys, and what did they move into?” I -asked. -</p> -<p> -“Why, how do I know who they are, John?” she said. “I suppose we will know -all about them soon enough, but you can't expect me to learn all about a -family the day they move in. And as for what they moved into, of course -there was only one vacant flat.” - </p> -<p> -“Flat? One vacant flat? What flat?” I asked. I was afraid Isobel was not -entirely herself. -</p> -<p> -“The one above us,” she said, and then as she saw the blank look on my -face she said: “The—the—oh, John, <i>don't</i> you understand? -The attic!” - </p> -<p> -“Hum!” I said suspiciously, looking at Isobel; but her face was so bright, -and she looked so thoroughly contented that I did not tell her what I -thought of this sort of pretending. Too much of it is not good for a -person. “Very well,” I said; “I only hope they will not be too noisy.” - </p> -<p> -“I don't think they will,” said Isobel, smiling. “At least not while you -are home.” She helped me off with my light coat, and when we were seated -at the table she said: “By the way, Mr. Millington leaned over the fence -this afternoon, and said he hoped you would take a little ride to Port -Lafayette with him soon. He says his automobile is in almost perfect shape -now.” - </p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> </a> -</p> -<div style="height: 4em;"> -<br /><br /><br /><br /> -</div> -<h2> -II. MR. PRAWLEY'S GARDEN -</h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>SOBEL was brighter at dinner than she had been for some days. She seemed -quite contented, now that the imaginary Prawleys had moved into the attic. -She said no more about them, and when I had finished my dinner I put on my -gardening togs and went out to garden awhile before dark. Blisters are -certainly most painful after a day of rest, and I did not work long. I was -almost in despair about the garden. Fully half had not been touched, and -what I had already done looked ragged and as if it needed doing over -again. The more I dug, the more great chunks of sod I found buried in it, -and it seemed as if my garden, when I had dug out all the chunks of sod, -would be a pit instead of a level. It threatened to be a sunken garden. -</p> -<p> -“Isobel,” I said angrily, when the sun had set and I was once more sitting -in the chair on my veranda, with my hands wrapped in wet handkerchiefs, -“you know how passionately fond of gardening I am, and how I longed and -pined for a garden for two full years, and you know, therefore, that it -takes a great deal of gardening to satisfy me; but I must say that the man -who laid out that garden must have been a man of shameful leisure. He laid -out a garden twice as large as any garden should be.” - </p> -<p> -“Then why do you try to work it all?” she asked. -</p> -<p> -“Oh, work it!” I exclaimed with some irritation. “I can't let half a -garden go to weeds! That would look nice, wouldn't it! I'll work it all -right! You don't care how I suffer and struggle. You sit here—” - </p> -<p> -The next evening when I reached home -</p> -<p> -I did not feel particularly happy. My hands were quite raw, and my back -had sharp pains and was stiff, and I spoke gruffly to Millington when he -suggested an automobile ride to Port Lafayette for that evening. -</p> -<p> -“No!” I said shortly. “You ought to know I can't go. I've got to kill -myself in that garden!” - </p> -<p> -But I was resolved Isobel should never see me conquered by a patch of -ground, and after dinner I went out with my spade and hoe. When my glance -fell on the garden I stopped short. I was very angry. -</p> -<p> -“Isobel?” I called sharply. -</p> -<p> -She came tripping around the house and to my side. -</p> -<p> -“Who did that?” I asked severely. I was in no mood for nonsense. -</p> -<p> -She looked at the garden. One half of it—not the half I had -struggled with, but the other 'half—had been spaded, crushed, -ridged, planted, and left in perfect condition. The small cabbage plants -had been carefully watered. Not a grain of earth was larger than a pin -head. Not a blade of grass stuck up anywhere. Isobel looked at the garden, -and then at me. -</p> -<p> -“I warned him!” she said. “I warned him you would be angry when you came -home! I told him you wanted to garden that half of the garden, too, and -that you would probably go right up and give him a piece of your mind, but -he insisted that he had a right to half the garden, and—” - </p> -<p> -“<i>Who</i> insisted that he had a right to half my garden?” I demanded. -</p> -<p> -“Why,” said Isobel, as if surprised at the question, “Mr. Prawley did.” - </p> -<p> -“Prawley? Prawley? I don't know any Prawley!” - </p> -<p> -“Don't you know the Prawleys that moved into the flat above us?” said -Isobel. “And he is a very nice man, too,” she continued. “He was not at -all rude. He merely insisted, in a quiet way, that as he was a tenant and -as there was only one back garden, and two families in the house, he was -entitled to half the garden.” - </p> -<p> -She did not give me a chance to speak, but ran on in that vein, while I -stood and looked at the garden and, among other things, thought of my -blistered hands and my lame back. -</p> -<p> -“Well and good, Isobel,” I said at length. “I do not wish to have anything -to say to the Prawleys, nor do I wish to quarrel with them, and since he -demands half the garden you may tell him he is welcome to it. I cannot -conceal that in taking half of it away from me he has robbed me of just -that much passionate happiness, and you may tell him I do not like the way -he gardens, but I will say no more about it!” - </p> -<p> -“Oh, you dear old John!” said Isobel. “And now you shall not touch that -miserable garden with your poor sore hands. You shall just sit on the -veranda with me and let me bathe your palms with witch hazel.” Although I -assumed an air of sternness in speaking to Isobel of Mr. Prawley I was -glad to be able to humour her, for she seemed so much happier after -beginning to pretend that the Prawley family occupied the attic of our -house. Giving in to these harmless little whims of our wives does much to -make life pleasanter for them—and for us—and as long as Mr. -Prawley left me my own half of the garden I could not be discontented. One -half of that garden was really all a man should attempt to garden, no -matter how passionately fond of gardening he might be. -</p> -<p> -It is fine to be the owner of a bit of soil and to feel the joy of -possession, but it is still more delightful to be able to see one's own -garden truck springing into life after one has dug and planted and weeded -and cultivated with one's own hands. I had no greater desire in life than -to devote all my spare time to my garden, but a man must give his health -some attention, and Isobel pointed out that if I gardened but one half of -the garden I would have time to ride to Port Lafayette with Millington in -his automobile now and then, and as Port Lafayette is on the salt water -the air would be good for me. -</p> -<p> -Port Lafayette is about eleven miles from Westcote, and I had often wished -to go to Port Lafayette, but Millington is absurdly jealous. Of course, I -could have taken Isobel by train in about one half hour, or I could walk -it in two or three hours, or drive there in an hour; but I knew that would -hurt Millington's feelings. He would take it as an insult to his -automobile. -</p> -<p> -But now I told Isobel that as soon as my garden got into reasonable shape -we would go to Port Lafayette with Millington. Isobel told me that my -health was more important than radishes, and reasoned that a few weeds in -a garden were not a bad thing. Weeds, she said, grow rapidly, while -vegetables are modest and retiring things, and she considered that a few -weeds in my half of the garden might set a good example to the vegetables. -</p> -<p> -Mr. Prawley evidently held a different view, for he did not allow a single -weed to raise its head in his half of the garden, and I told Isobel, -rather sharply, that his idea was the right one, and that I should weed my -garden every evening until there was not a weed in it. -</p> -<p> -“But, John,” she said, “I have never ridden in an automobile, and it would -be a great treat for me.” - </p> -<p> -“No doubt,” I groaned—I was weeding in my garden at the moment—“but, -treat or no treat, I am not going to have this half of the garden look -like a forest.” - </p> -<p> -“I know you enjoy it,” she began, but I silenced her. -</p> -<p> -“I am passionately fond of gardening,” I said, “and I have told you so a -million times. Now will you leave me alone to enjoy it, or won't you?” - </p> -<p> -She went into the house and left me enjoying it alone. -</p> -<p> -The very next evening, when I looked into my half of the garden, I found -it weeded and put into the best of shape, and when I hunted up Isobel, -angry indeed at having so much pleasure taken from me, she did not dare -look me in the eye. -</p> -<p> -“Isobel,” I said sharply, “what is the meaning of this?” - </p> -<p> -“John,” she said meekly, “I am afraid I am to blame. You know Mr. Prawley -does not like automobile riding—” - </p> -<p> -“I know nothing of the kind, Isobel,” I said. “I know I am passionately -fond of gardening, and that some one has robbed me of the pleasure I have -looked forward to for years: the joy of weeding my own garden on my own -land.” - </p> -<p> -“Mr. Prawley does not like automobile riding,” continued Isobel, “and he -came to me this morning and told me his health was so poor that his doctor -had told him nothing but gardening could save his life. When he showed the -garden to his doctor, the doctor told him he was not getting half enough -gardening—that he must garden twice as much. I told Mr. Prawley he -could not have your half of the garden, because you were passionately fond -of it—” - </p> -<p> -“True, Isobel!” I said, rubbing my back at the lamest spot. -</p> -<p> -“But he begged on his knees, saying that while it was only a pleasure for -you, it was life and health for him, and when his wife wept, I had not the -heart to refuse. He said he would make a fair exchange, and that as he was -an anti-vegetarian you could have all the vegetables that grew in your own -half, and all that grew in his, too.” - </p> -<p> -“Isobel,” I said, taking her hand, “this is a great, great disappointment -to me. It robs me of a pleasure of which I may say I am passionately fond, -but I cannot disown a contract made by my little wife. Mr. Prawley may -garden my half of the garden.” - </p> -<p> -I must admit that the Prawleys were ideal tenants. Not a sound came from -his floor of the house. Indeed, I did not see him nor his family at all. -But during my days in town he and Isobel seemed to have many -conversations, and she was so tender-hearted and easily moved that one by -one she let Mr. Prawley take all the outdoor work of which I may rightly -claim to be passion—to be exceedingly fond. -</p> -<p> -Mowing the lawn is one of the things in which I delight. I ardently love -pushing the lawn mower, and if, occasionally, I allowed the grass to grow -rather long, it was only because I was saving the pleasure of cutting it, -as a child saves the icing of its cake for the last sweet bite. I remember -remarking, quite in joke, one morning, that the confounded lawn needed -mowing again, and that the grass seemed to do nothing but grow, and that -I'd probably have to break my back over it when I got home that evening. -But when I reached home that evening I suspected that Isobel must have -taken my little joke as earnest, for the lawn was nicely mown and the -edges trimmed. It seemed, when I questioned Isobel, that Mr. Prawley's -doctor was not satisfied with his progress and had assured him that lawn -mowing was necessary for his complete recovery. Thus Isobel allowed Mr. -Prawley to usurp another of my pleasures. -</p> -<p> -So, one by one, the outdoor tasks of which I am so passionately fond were -wrested from me. I allowed them to go because I thought it necessary to -humour Isobel in her pretence that some family occupied a flat above us, -and all seemed well; and we were ready to go to Port Lafayette in Mr. -Millington's automobile whenever it was ready to take us, when one day in -June I happened to notice that our grass was getting unusually long and -untidy. -</p> -<p> -“Isobel,” I said, “I have humoured Mr. Prawley, abandoning to him all the -outdoor chores of which I am so passionately fond, but if he is to do this -lawn I want him to do it, and not neglect it shamefully. I will not have -it looking like this!” - </p> -<p> -“But, John—” she began. -</p> -<p> -“I tell you, Isobel,” I said, with rising anger, “I won't have it! I'll -stand a good deal, but when I have robbed myself of my greatest pleasure, -and then see the other man neglecting it, I rebel. If this goes on I'll -forget that Mr. Prawley has bad health. I'll enjoy cutting the lawn -myself!” - </p> -<p> -“John,” said Isobel, throwing her arms about my neck, “you will be so -glad! I have good news to tell you! The Prawleys have moved away! Now you -can do all your own hoeing and mowing.” - </p> -<p> -“The Prawleys have moved away?” I gasped. -</p> -<p> -“Yes,” she said cheerfully, “and now you can garden all the garden, and -cut all the lawn and rake all the walks, and weed, and do all the things -you are so fond of doing.” - </p> -<p> -“Isobel,” I said sternly, “if I thought only of myself I would indeed be -glad. But I cannot have my little wife fearing the empty flat above her. -You must immediately hire another—er—get another family.” - </p> -<p> -“But I shall not be nervous any more, John,” she said; “and it is a shame -to deprive you of the outdoor work.” - </p> -<p> -I looked out upon the large lawn and the large garden. -</p> -<p> -“No, Isobel,” I said, “you must take no chances. You may not think you -will be nervous, but the feeling may return. If you do not get a family to -move in, I shall!” - </p> -<p> -I rubbed the palms of my hands where the blisters had been, and thought of -the middle of my back where the pains and aches had congregated. I was -ready to sacrifice my passionate longing for outdoor work once more for -Isobel's sake. -</p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="linkimage-0002" id="linkimage-0002"> </a> -</p> -<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> -<img src="images/45.png" alt="45" width="100%" /><br /> -</div> -<p> -“Well,” she said thoughtfully, “I know of an excellent coloured man in -Lower Westcote, that we can hire by the day—I mean that we can get -to move into the flat—but I can hardly afford, with my present -allowance, to pay his wages—that is, I mean—” - </p> -<p> -“For some time, Isobel,” I said hastily, “I have been thinking your -allowance was too small. You must have a—a great many household -expenses of which I know nothing.” - </p> -<p> -“I have,” she said simply. -</p> -<p> -That evening when I returned from the city I saw that the lawn grass had -been cut so closely that it looked as if the lawn had been shaved. Isobel -ran to meet me. -</p> -<p> -“John!” she cried; “John! Who do you think has moved into the flat -overhead?” - </p> -<p> -“Dear me!” I exclaimed. “How should I know?” - </p> -<p> -“The Prawleys!” she cried. “The Prawleys have moved back again. Are you -not glad?” - </p> -<p> -I concealed my chagrin. I hid the sorrow with which I saw my passionate -fondness for outdoor work once more defeated of its object. -</p> -<p> -“Isobel,” I said, “I wish you would tell Mr. Prawley's doctor to tell Mr. -Prawley that it is imperative for Mr. Prawley's best health that Mr. -Prawley dig the grass out of the gravel walks to-morrow. Tell him—” - </p> -<p> -“I told him this evening to do the walks the first thing in the morning,” - said Isobel innocently, “and when he has done them I am going to have him -help Mary wash the windows.” - </p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> </a> -</p> -<div style="height: 4em;"> -<br /><br /><br /><br /> -</div> -<h2> -III. THE EQUINE PALACE -</h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">N</span>OW that Mr. Prawley is back,” I told Isobel, “we can take that trip to -Port Lafayette with Millington,” and it was then Isobel mentioned the -advisability of keeping a horse; but Millington and I, not being afraid of -automobiles, began to go to Port Lafayette in his automobile. As a rule we -began to go every day, and sometimes twice a day, and I must say for -Millington's automobile that it was one of the most patient I have ever -seen. Patient and willing are the very words. It would start for Port -Lafayette as willingly as anything, and go along as patiently as possible. -It was a very patient goer. Haste had no charms for it. -</p> -<p> -Millington used to come over bright and early and say cheerfully, “Well, -how would you like to take a little run out to Port Lafayette to-day?” and -I would get my cap, and we would go over to his garage and get into the -machine. Then Millington would pull a lever or two, and begin to listen -for noises indicative of internal disorders. As a rule, they began -immediately, but sometimes he would not hear anything that could be called -really serious until we reached the corner of the block. Once, I remember, -and I shall never forget the date, we went three miles before Millington -stopped the car and got out his wrenches and antiseptic bandages and other -surgical tools; but usually the noises began inside of the block. Then we -would push it home, and postpone the trip for that day, while Millington -laboured over the automobile. -</p> -<p> -“We will get to Port Lafayette yet,” he would say hopefully. -</p> -<p> -As soon as Isobel mentioned keeping a horse I knew she was beginning to -like suburban life, and I was delighted. Having lived all her life in a -flat, her mind naturally ran to theatres and roof gardens, rather than to -the delights of the suburbs, and her reading still consisted more of -department store bargain sales and advertisements of new plays than of -seed catalogues and ready mixed paints, as a good suburban wife's reading -should; but as soon as she mentioned that it would be nice to have a horse -I knew she was at length falling a victim to the allurements of our -semi-country existence. In order to add fuel to the flame I took up the -suggestion with enthusiasm. -</p> -<p> -“Isobel,” I said warmly, “that is a splendid idea! A horse is just what we -need to add the finishing touch to our happiness! With these splendid, -tree-bordered roads—” - </p> -<p> -“A horse that is not afraid of Mr. Millington's automobile,” interposed -Isobel. -</p> -<p> -“Certainly,” I said, “a horse that you can drive without fear—” - </p> -<p> -“But not a pokey old thing,” said Isobel. -</p> -<p> -“By no means,” I agreed; “what we want is a young, fresh horse that can -get over the road—” - </p> -<p> -“And gentle,” said Isobel. “And strong. And he must be a good-looking -horse. One with a glossy skin. Reddish brown, with a long tail. I would -like a great, big, strong-looking horse, like the Donelleys', but faster, -like the Smiths'.” - </p> -<p> -“Exactly,” I said. “That's the sort of horse I had in mind. And we will -get the horse immediately. I shall stay at home tomorrow and select the -kind of horse we want, unless Mr. Millington takes me to Port Lafayette—” - </p> -<p> -“Now, John,” said Isobel, “you must not be too hasty. You must be careful. -I think the right way to buy a horse is to shop a little first, and see -what people have in stock, and not take the first thing that is offered, -the way you do when you buy shirts. You know how hideous some of those -last shirts are, and the arms far too long, and we don't want anything -like that to happen when you are buying a horse. I have been talking to -Mrs. Rolfs, and she says it is mere folly to buy the first horse that is -offered. Mrs. Rolfs says it stands to reason that a man who wants to get -rid of a horse would be the first man to offer it. As soon as he learned -we wanted a horse he would rush to us with the horse, so as not to lose -the chance of getting rid of it. And Mrs. Millington says it is worse than -foolish to wait until the very last horse is offered and then buy that -one, for the man that hung back in that way would undoubtedly be the man -that did not particularly care to part with his horse, and would feel that -he was doing us a favour, and would ask a perfectly unreasonable price. -The thing to do, John, is to buy, as nearly as possible, the middle horse -that is offered. If twenty-one horses were offered the thing to do would -be to buy the eleventh horse, and in that way we would be sure to get a -good horse at a reasonable price.” - </p> -<p> -I told Isobel that what she said was perfectly logical, and that I would -get right to work and frame up an advertisement for the local paper, -saying we wanted a horse and would be glad to examine twenty-one of them. -</p> -<p> -“Now, wait a minute,” she said, when I had started for my desk, “and don't -be in too great a hurry. You know the mistake you made in those last socks -you bought, by going into the first store you came to, and the very first -time you put on those socks they wore full of holes. We don't want a horse -that will wear like that. Mrs. Rolfs says we must be very particular what -sort of man we buy our horse from. She says it is like suicide to buy a -horse from a dealer, because a dealer knows so much more about horses than -we do, and is up to so many tricks, that he would have no trouble at all -in fooling us, and we would probably get a horse that was worth nothing at -all. And Mrs. Millington says it is the greatest mistake in the world to -buy a horse from an ordinary suburban commuter. She says commuters know -nothing at all about horses and just buy them blindfold, and that, if we -buy a horse from a commuter, we are sure to get a worthless horse that the -commuter has had foisted upon him and is anxious to get rid of. The person -to buy a horse of, John, is a person that knows all about horses, but who -is not a dealer.” - </p> -<p> -“My idea exactly,” I told Isobel, and started for my desk again. -</p> -<p> -“John, dear,” said Isobel, before I had taken two steps, “why are you -always so impetuous? Of course I want a horse, and I would like to have it -as soon as possible, but I believe in exercising a little common sense. -Where, may I ask, are you going to keep the horse when you have got him?” - </p> -<p> -Now, this had not occurred to me, but I answered promptly. -</p> -<p> -“I shall put him out to board,” I said unhesitatingly, and there was -really nothing else I could say, for there was no stable on my place. I -know plenty of suburbanites who keep horses and have them boarded at the -livery stables. But this did not please Isobel. -</p> -<p> -“You must do nothing of the kind!” said Isobel firmly. “Mrs. Rolfs and -Mrs. Millington both say there is nothing worse for a good horse than to -put it out to board. Mrs. Rolfs says it is much cheaper to keep your horse -in your own bam, and Mrs. Millington says she would have a very low -opinion of any man who would trust his horse to a liveryman. She says the -horse is man's most faithful servant, and should be treated as such, and -that she has not the least doubt that the liveryman would underfeed our -horse, and then let it out to hire to some young harum-scarum, who would -whip it into a gallop until it got overheated, and then water it when it -was so hot the water would sizzle in its stomach, creating steam and -giving it a bad case of colic. And Mrs. Rolfs says the liveryman would be -pleased with this, rather than sorry, for then he would have to call in -the veterinary, who would divide his fee with the liveryman. So, you see, -we must keep our horse in our own stable.” - </p> -<p> -“But, my dear,” I protested, “we have no stable.” - </p> -<p> -“Then we must build one,” said Isobel with decision. “Mrs. Rolfs, as soon -as she heard we were going to keep a horse, lent me a magazine with a -picture of a very nice stable, and Mrs. Millington lent me another -magazine with some excellent hints on how a modern stable should be -arranged, and I think, with all the modern methods of doing things -rapidly, we might have our stable all complete in a week, or ten days at -the most.” - </p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="linkimage-0003" id="linkimage-0003"> </a> -</p> -<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> -<img src="images/61.png" alt="61" width="100%" /><br /> -</div> -<p> -When I looked at Mrs. Rolfs's picture of a stable I felt immediately that -it would not suit my purse. I admitted to Isobel that it was a handsome -stable, and that the cupola with the weather vane looked very well indeed, -and that the idea of having two wings extended from the main building to -form a sort of court was a good one; but I told her it would inconvenience -the traffic on the street before our house if we moved our house far -enough into the street to permit putting a stable of that size in our -back-yard. I also told her, as gently as I could, that the style of -architecture did not suit our house, for while our house is a plain house, -the stable recommended by Mrs. Rolfs was pressed brick and stained -shingles, with a slate roof. I also pointed out to Isobel that one horse -hardly needed a stable of that size, and that even a very large horse -would feel lonely in the main building. -</p> -<p> -I remarked jocosely that it would be well enough, if we could keep two or -three grooms with nothing to do but hunt through the stable, trying to -find the horse. If we could afford to do that, it would be a pleasure to -awaken in the morning and have one of the grooms come running to us with -the light of joy on his face, saying, “What do you think, sir? -</p> -<p> -“But I told her it would inconvenience the traffic on the street before -our house if we moved our house far enough into the street to permit -putting a stable of that size in our backyard.” - </p> -<p> -Isobel smiled in a wan, sad way at this, so I did not say, as I had -intended saying if she had received my joke well, that the only horse -requiring wings was Pegasus, and that he furnished his own. -</p> -<p> -Instead, I took up Mrs. Millington's article on the modern stable. It was -a masterly article, indeed, and it spoke highly of the gravity stable. No -hay forks, no pitching up forage, no elevating feed, no loading of manure -from a heap into a wagon. No, indeed! Everything must go down; the natural -law of gravitation must do the work. Three stories, with the rear of the -stable against the side of the hill. Drive your feed into the top story -and unload it. Slide it down into the second story to the horse. Through a -trap in the stall the manure falls into a wagon waiting to receive it. -</p> -<p> -There were other details—electric lights, silver-mounted chains, and -other little things—but I did not pay much attention to them. I -explained to Isobel that it would be difficult to build a firm, solid -hill, large enough to back a three-story stable against, in our backyard. -Of course, there were plenty of hills in our part of Long Island that were -lying idle and might be had at low cost, but it costs a great deal to move -a hill, and all of them were so large they would overlap our property and -bury the homes of Mr. Rolfs and Mr. Millington. This did not greatly -impress Isobel, however, and I had to come out firmly and tell her it -would be impossible to build a stable three stories high, with two wings, -pressed brick, shingle walls, slate roof, and a weather vane, and at the -same time erect a nice hill and buy a horse and rig, all with one thousand -dollars, which was all the money I could afford to spend. -</p> -<p> -When I put it that way, and gave her her choice of one thousand dollars' -worth of hill, or one thousand dollars' worth of stable, or one thousand -dollars' worth of assorted horse, stable, and rig, she chose the last, and -only remarked that she would insist on the weather vane and the manure -pit. She said that Mrs. Rolfs had taken such an interest, bringing over -the magazine, that it was only right to have the weather vane, at least; -and that Mrs. Millington had been so interested and kind that the very -least we could do was to have the manure pit. -</p> -<p> -“And another thing,” said Isobel, “Mr. Prawley is going to move out of the -flat overhead.” - </p> -<p> -“Great Cæsar!” I exclaimed. “Is that man quitting again? Isn't he getting -enough wages?” - </p> -<p> -“Wages?” said Isobel. “Nothing has been said about wages. But this Mr. -Prawley will not stay if we buy a horse. He says he does not mind -gardening your garden and mowing your lawn and taking all your other -outdoor exercise for you, but that a horse once reached over the side of -the stall and bit him, and he doesn't want to work—to live in a -place where horses are liable to bite him at any time without a minute's -notice.” - </p> -<p> -“Tell that fellow,” I said, “that we will get a horse that doesn't bite, -or that we will muzzle the horse, or—” - </p> -<p> -“It would be easier,” said Isobel, “to—to have a Prawley move in who -was not afraid of horses. I know of a man in East Westcote, and he has had -experience with horses—” - </p> -<p> -“Very well,” I said. “I suppose you will wish your allowance increased?” - </p> -<p> -“Yes,” said Isobel, “if the new Mr. Prawley moves into the flat overhead, -I will need about five dollars a month more than you have been allowing -me.” - </p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> </a> -</p> -<div style="height: 4em;"> -<br /><br /><br /><br /> -</div> -<h2> -IV. “BOB” - </h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HE next morning I stayed at home to see about getting the stable built in -a hurry, but before I had finished breakfast Millington came over and said -it was an ideal day for a little spin up to Port Lafayette in his -automobile. He said the whole machine was in perfect order and we would -dash out to Port Lafayette, have a bath in the salt water, and come -spinning back, and he told Isobel and me to get on our hats, and he would -have the car before the door in a minute. -</p> -<p> -Isobel and I hastily finished our coffee and put on our hats and went out -to the gate, for, although we were very eager to build the stable, we did -not like to offend Millington by refusing his invitation, when he had -asked us so often to go to Port Lafayette. In half an hour he arrived at -the gate, and we climbed in. -</p> -<p> -Our usual custom, on these trips to Port Lafayette, was for Millington and -me to sit in front, while Isobel and Mrs. Millington sat in the rear. -There was a nice little gate in the rear by which they could enter. -</p> -<p> -You see, Millington's automobile was just a little old. I should not go so -far as to say it was the first automobile ever made. It was probably the -thirteenth, and Millington was probably the thirteenth owner. I know it -had four cylinders, because Millington was constantly remarking that only -three were working. Sometimes only one worked, and sometimes that one did -not. -</p> -<p> -When we were all comfortably arranged in our seats, and all snugly tucked -in, Millington cranked the machine for half an hour, and then remarked -regretfully that this was one of the days none of the cylinders was -working, and we got out again. -</p> -<p> -Mr. Rolfs had come out to see us start, and he helped Millington and me -push the automobile back to the Millington garage; and as I walked -homeward he said he had heard I was going to buy a horse, and he wanted to -give me a little advice. -</p> -<p> -“Probably you have not given much attention to the subject of -deforestation,” he said, “but I have, and it is the great crime of our -age.” - </p> -<p> -I told him I did not see what that had to do with my purchasing a horse, -but he said it had everything to do with it. -</p> -<p> -“When you buy a horse, you have to erect a stable,” he said, “and when you -erect a stable, you have to buy lumber, and when you have to buy lumber, -you suffer in your purse because the forests have been ruthlessly -destroyed. As a friend and neighbour I would not have you go and purchase -poor lumber, and with it build a stable that will rot to pieces in a few -years. You must buy the best lumber, and that is too expensive to use -recklessly. I want to warn you particularly about wire nails. Do not let -your builder use them. They loosen in a short time and allow the boards to -warp and crack. Personally, if I were building a stable I should have the -ends of the boards dovetailed, and instead of nails I should use ash pegs, -but I understand you do not wish to go to great expense, so screws will -do. Let it be part of your contract that not a nail shall be used in your -stable—nothing but screws, and if you can afford brass screws, so -much the better. But remember, no nails!” - </p> -<p> -I thanked Rolfs, and when Millington came over to invite me to take a -little run up to Port Lafayette the next morning I told him what Mr. Rolfs -had said. -</p> -<p> -“Now that is just like Rolfs,” he said, “impractical as the day is long. -Screws would not do at all. The carpenters would drive the screws with a -hammer, and the screws would crack the wood. Take my advice and let it be -part of your contract that not a screw is to be used in your stable; -nothing but wire nails. <i>But</i> stipulate long wire nails; wire nails -so long that they will go clear through and clinch on the other side, and -then see that each and every nail is clinched. If you do this you will -have no trouble with split lumber and not a board will work loose.” - </p> -<p> -When I spoke to the builder about the probable cost of the stable, I was -sorry I had been so lenient with Isobel, and that I had not put my foot -down on the weather vane at once. A weather vane does not add to the -comfort of a family horse, and the longer I spoke with the builder the -surer I became that what I needed was not a lot of gimcracks, but a plain, -simple, story-and-a-half affair, with the chaste architectural lines of a -dry-goods box. I mentioned, casually, the hints Mr. Rolfs and Mr. -Millington had given me, but the builder did not seem very enthusiastic -about them. He snorted in a peculiar way and then said that if I was going -in for that sort of thing I could get better results by having no nails or -screws at all. He said I could have holes bored in the boards with a -gimlet, and have the stable laced together with rawhide thongs, but that -when I got ready to talk business in a sensible way, I could let him know. -He said this was his busy day, and that his office was not a lunatic -asylum. -</p> -<p> -I managed to calm him in less than half an hour, and he remained quite -docile until I mentioned Isobel and said she hoped he would have the -stable ready for the horse within a week. It took me much longer to calm -him that time. For a few moments I feared for his reason. But he quieted -down. -</p> -<p> -Then I showed him a plan I had drawn, showing the working of the manure -dump, and this had quite a different effect on him. It pleased him -immensely, as I could see by his face. I explained how it operated; how -throwing a catch allowed one end of the stall floor to drop, while the -other end of the stall floor was held in place by hinges, and he said it -was certainly a new idea. He asked me whether it was Mr. Rolfs's idea or -Mr. Millington's, and when I told him I had worked out the plan myself, he -said he had rather thought so. -</p> -<p> -“It is just such a plan as I should expect a man of your intelligence to -work out,” he said. -</p> -<p> -Then he asked to see my bank-book, and when I had shown him just how much -money I had, he said the best way to build the stable was by the day. If -it was built by the job, he explained, a builder naturally had to hurry -the job, and things were not done as carefully as I wished them done; but -if it was done by the day, every hammer stroke would be carefully made, -and I could pay every evening for the work done that day. -</p> -<p> -About the third week of the building operations those careful hammer -strokes began to get on my nerves. I never knew hammer strokes so -carefully considered and so cautiously delivered. The carpenters were most -careful about them, and several times I spoke to the builder and suggested -that if shorter nails were used perhaps it would not take so many strokes -of the hammer to drive them in. I told him, if he was willing, I was -willing to have the rest of the stable done by the job, but he said it had -gone too far for that. -</p> -<p> -There were two men working on my stable—“two souls with but a single -thought,” Isobel called them—and they were hard thinkers. The two of -them would take hold of a board, one at either end, and hold it in their -hands, and look at it, and think. I do not know what they thought about—deforestation, -probably—but they would think for ten minutes and then put the board -gently to one side and think about another board. They did their thinking, -as they did their work, by the day. -</p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="linkimage-0004" id="linkimage-0004"> </a> -</p> -<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> -<img src="images/77.png" alt="77" width="100%" /><br /> -</div> -<p> -We had plenty of time in which to select our horse while our stable was -building. My advertisement in the local paper brought a horse to my door -the morning after it appeared, and no horse could have suited me quite so -well as that one, but I was resolute and firm. I told the man—he was -not a dealer nor yet a commuter, and my conversation with him showed me -that he knew just enough, and not too much, about horses—that I -liked his horse very well indeed, but that I could not purchase it.. At -this he seemed downcast, and I did not blame him. He seemed to take my -refusal as some sort of personal insult, for the horse was young, large, -strong, gentle, and speedy, and the price was right; but every time I -began to weaken Isobel said, “John, remember number eleven!” and I -refrained from purchasing that horse. I finally sent the man away with -warm expressions of my esteem for him as a man, but that did not seem to -cheer him much. -</p> -<p> -An hour later another man brought another horse, and I sent him away also, -as was my duty, for he was only number two; but he was hardly gone when -horse number one appeared again. I saw at once that I was going to have -trouble with that man. He was so sure he had the horse I wanted that he -would not go away and stay away. He kept coming back, and each time he -went away sadder than before. He was a sad-looking man, anyway, and he -would sit in his buggy and talk to me until another horse was driven up, -and then he would sigh and drive down to the corner, and sit and look at -me reproachfully until the other man drove away again. Then he would drive -back and reproach me, with tears in his eyes, for not buying his horse. By -lunch time I was almost worn out, and I told Isobel as much when I looked -out of the window and saw that handsome horse and his sad driver waiting -patiently at my gate. I told her I was tempted to take that horse, Mrs. -Rolfs or no Mrs. Rolfs. -</p> -<p> -“Take that horse?” said Isobel, as if my words surprised her. “Why, of -course we are going to take that horse!” - </p> -<p> -“But, my dear,” I said, “after what you told me about taking the eleventh -horse?” - </p> -<p> -“Certainly,” said Isobel. “What is this but the eleventh horse? It came -first, and then another horse came, and then this one came third, and then -some other horse came, and then this one came fifth, and so on, and now it -is standing there at the gate, the eleventh horse. Certainly we will buy -this horse.” - </p> -<p> -“Isobel,” I said, “we might quite as well have bought it the first time it -was driven to our gate as this time.” - </p> -<p> -“Not at all,” she said; “that would have been an altogether different -thing. If we had taken the first horse that was offered we would have -regretted it all our lives; but now we can take this horse and feel -perfectly safe.” - </p> -<p> -Bob—that was the name of the horse—fitted into our stable -pretty well. He had to bend rather sharply in the middle to get out of his -stall, but he was quite limber for a horse of his age and size, so he -managed it very well. A stiffer horse might have broken in two or have -been permanently bent. The stall was so economically built that a large, -long horse like Bob stuck out of it like a long ship in a short dock; he -stuck out so far that we had to go around through the carriage room to get -on the other side of him. Our new Mr. Prawley did not mind this. He was -willing to spend all the time necessary going from one bit of work to -another. -</p> -<p> -There was one advantage in having the stable and everything about it on a -small scale—it lessened the depth of the manure pit. The very first -night we put Bob in his stall we heard a loud noise in the stable. Isobel -suggested that we had overfed Bob, and that he had swelled out and pressed -out the sides of the stable, but I thought it more likely that the -weather-boarding had slipped loose. I had seen the thoughtful carpenters -putting that weather-boarding on the stable. But Isobel and I were both -wrong. Bob had merely dropped into the manure pit. -</p> -<p> -I was glad then that I had chosen a strong horse, for he did not seem to -mind the drop in the least. He stood there with his front feet in the -basement, as you might say, and with his rear feet upstairs, quite as if -that was his usual way of standing. After that he often fell into the -manure pit, and he always took it good-naturedly. He got so he expected -it, after awhile, and if his stall floor did not drop once a day, he -became restless and took no interest in his food. Usually, during the day, -Bob and Mr. Prawley dropped into the basement together while Mr. Prawley -was currying Bob, but at night, when we heard Bob calling us in the -homesick, whinnying tone, and kicking his heels against the side of the -stable, we knew what he wanted, and to prevent him kicking the stable to -ruins, we—Isobel and I—would go out and drop him into the -basement a couple of times. Then he would be satisfied. -</p> -<p> -There was but one thing we feared: Bob might become so fond of having his -forefeet in the basement and his rear feet upstairs, that he would stand -no other way, and in course of time his front legs would have to lengthen -enough to let his head reach his manger, or his neck would have to -stretch. Either would give him the general appearance of a giraffe. While -this would be neat for show purposes, it would attract almost too much -attention in a family horse. I have no doubt this is the way the giraffe -acquired its peculiar construction, but we were able to avoid it, for we -awoke one night when Bob made an unaided descent into the manure pit, and -when we went to aid him we found he had descended at both ends, on account -of the economical hinges used on the drop floor of the stall of our equine -palace. Bob showed in every way that he had enjoyed that drop more than -any drop he had ever taken, but I drew the line there. I had other things -to do more important than conducting a private Coney Island for a horse. -If Bob had been a colt I might not have been so stern about it, but I will -not pamper a staid old family horse by operating shoot-the-chutes and -loop-the-loops for him at two o'clock in the morning. -</p> -<p> -“Isobel,” I said, “if that horse is to continue in my stable you may tell -Mr. Prawley that it is necessary for his health that he sleep in the -stable-loft hereafter. It will be good exercise for him to get up at -midnight and pull Bob out of the manure pit.” - </p> -<p> -“This present Mr. Prawley will not do it,” said Isobel. “He has a wife and -family at East Westcote, and he—” - </p> -<p> -“Very well,” I said, “then get another Mr. Prawley!” - </p> -<p> -Of the new Mr. Prawley it is necessary to speak a few words. -</p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> </a> -</p> -<div style="height: 4em;"> -<br /><br /><br /><br /> -</div> -<h2> -V. THE NEW MR. PRAWLEY -</h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HE new Mr. Prawley (by this time a family, but we still clung to the name -Prawley, just as all coloured waiters are called “George”) was a most -unusual man. -</p> -<p> -For a month before we hired him he had been trying to undermine Isobel's -faith in the Mr. Prawley from East Westcote. He had called at the house -two or three times a week. At first he merely asked for the job of -man-of-all-work, as any applicant might have asked for it, but he soon -began speaking of our Prawley in the most damaging terms. I believe there -was hardly a crime or misdemeanour that he did not lay at the door of our -Mr. Prawley, and so insistent was he that Isobel and I had ceased to speak -of him as living in our attic. -</p> -<p> -Isobel decided the two men must be deadly enemies, and that this fellow -was set on hounding our Mr. Prawley from pillar to post, like an avenging -angel. She concluded that this man must have been frightfully wronged by -our Mr. Prawley, and that he had sworn to dog his footsteps to the grave. -</p> -<p> -But when she let our Mr. Prawley go and hired this new Mr. Prawley, his -interest in his predecessor ceased entirely. In place of the eager, -longing look his face had worn, he now wore a thin, satisfied look, which -I can best describe as that of a hungry jackal licking his chops. Mr. -Prawley—his name, he told us, was Duggs, Alonzo Duggs, but we called -him Mr. Prawley—was a tall, lean, villanous-looking fellow, with a -red, pointed beard, and at times when he leaned on the division fence and -looked into Mr. Millington's yard I could see his fingers opening and -shutting like the claws of a bird of prey. He seemed to hate Mr. -Millington With a deep but hidden hatred, and often, when Mr. Millington -was preparing to take Isobel and me to Port Lafayette, Mr. Prawley would -stand and grit his teeth in the most unpleasant manner. When I spoke to -Mr. Prawley about it he said, “It isn't Mr. Millington. It is the -automobile. I hate automobiles!” - </p> -<p> -For that matter, I was beginning to hate them myself. Many a pleasant ride -behind Bob did I have to sacrifice because Millington insisted that we -take a little run up to Port Lafayette with him and Mrs. Millington. We -would all get into his car, and Millington would pull his cap down tight, -and begin to frown and cock his head on one side to hear signs of asthma -or heart throbs or whatever the automobile might take a notion to have -that day. And off we would go! -</p> -<p> -I tell you, it was exhilarating. After all there is nothing like motoring. -We would roll smoothly down the street, with Millington frowning like a -pirate all the way, and then suddenly he would hear the noise he was -listening for, and he would stop frowning, and jerk a lever that stopped -the car, and hop out with a satisfied expression, and begin to whistle, -and open the car in eight places, and take out an assorted hardware store, -and adhesive tape, and blankets, and oil cans, and hatchets, and axes, and -get to work on the car as happy as a babe; and Mrs. Millington and Isobel -and I would walk home. -</p> -<p> -The sight of an automobile seemed to madden Mr. Prawley, but otherwise he -was the meekest of men, and a good example of this was the manner in which -he behaved at our Christmas party. -</p> -<p> -The idea of having a good, old-fashioned Christmas house party for our -city friends was Isobel's idea, but the moment she mentioned it I adopted -it, and told her we would have Jimmy Dunn out. Jimmy Dunn is one of those -rare men that have acquired the suburban-visit habit. Usually when we -suburbanites invite a city friend to spend the week-end with us, the city -friend balks. -</p> -<p> -Into his frank eyes comes a furtive, shifty look as he tries to think of -an adequate lie to serve as an excuse for not coming, but Jimmy was taken -in hand when he was young and flexible, and he has become meek and docile -under adversity, as I might say. When any one invites Jimmy to the suburbs -he hardly makes a struggle. I suppose it is because of the gradual -weakening of his will power. -</p> -<p> -“Good!” I said. “We will have Jimmy Dunn out over Christmas.” - </p> -<p> -“Oh! Jimmy Dunn!” scoffed Isobel gently. “Of course we will have Jimmy, -but what I mean is to have a lot of people—ten at least—and we -must have at least two lovers, because they will look so well in that -little alcove room off the parlour, and we can go in and surprise them -once in a while. And we will have a Santa Claus, and lots of holly and -mistletoe, and a tree with all sorts of foolish presents on it for every -one, and—” - </p> -<p> -“Splendid!” I cried less enthusiastically. -</p> -<p> -“Now as for the ten—” - </p> -<p> -“Well,” said Isobel, “we will have Jimmy Dunn—” - </p> -<p> -“That is what I suggested,” I said meekly. “We will have Jimmy Dunn,” - repeated Isobel, “and then we will have—we will have—I wonder -who we could get to come out. Mary might come, if she wasn't in Europe.” - </p> -<p> -“That would make two,” I said cheerfully, “if she wasn't in Europe.” “And -we must have a Yule-log!” exclaimed Isobel. “A big, blazing Yule-log, to -drink wassail in front of, and to sing carols around.” I told Isobel that, -as nearly as I could judge, the fireplaces in our house had not been -constructed for big, blazing Yule-logs. I reminded her that when I had -spoken to the last owner about having a grate fire he had advised us, with -great excitement, not to attempt anything so rash. He had said that if we -were careful we might have a gas-log, provided it was a small one and we -did not turn on the gas full force, and were sure our insurance was placed -in a good, reliable company. He had said that if we were careful about -those few things, and kept a pail of water on the roof in case of -emergency, we might use a gas-log, provided we extinguished it as soon as -we felt any heat coming from it. I had not, at the time, thought of -mentioning a Yule-log to him, but I told Isobel now that perhaps we might -be able to find a small, gas-burning Yule-log at the gas company's office. -Isobel scoffed at the idea. She said we might as well put a hot-water -bottle in the grate and try to be merry around that. -</p> -<p> -“I don't see,” she said, “why people build chimneys in houses if it is -going to be dangerous to have a fire in the fireplace.” - </p> -<p> -“They improve the ventilation, I suppose,” I said, “and then, what would -Santa Claus come down if there were no chimneys?” - </p> -<p> -I frequently drop these half-joking remarks into my conversations with -Isobel, and not infrequently she smiles at them in a faraway manner, but -this time she jumped at the remark and seized it with both hands. -</p> -<p> -“John!” she cried, “that is the very, very thing! We will have Santa Claus -come down the chimney! And you will be Santa Claus!” I remained calm. Some -men would have immediately remembered they had prior engagements for -Christmas. Some men would have instantly declared that Santa Claus was an -unworthy myth. But not I! I dropped upon my hands and knees and gazed up -the chimney. When I withdrew my head, I stood up and grasped Isobel's -hand. -</p> -<p> -“Fine!” I cried with well-simulated enthusiasm. “I'll get an automobile -coat from Millington, and sleigh bells and a mask with a long white beard—” - </p> -<p> -“And a wig with long white hair,” Isobel added joyously. -</p> -<p> -“And while our guests are all at dinner,” I cried, “I will steal away from -the table—” - </p> -<p> -“John!” exclaimed Isobel. “You can't be Santa Claus! Can't you see that it -would never, never do for you to leave the table when your guests were all -there? You cannot be Santa Claus, John!” - </p> -<p> -“Oh, Isobel!” - </p> -<p> -“No,” she said firmly, “you cannot be Santa Claus. Jimmy Dunn must be -Santa Claus!” - </p> -<p> -We had Jimmy Dunn out the next Sunday and broke it to him as gently as we -could, and explained what a lot of fun it would be for him, and how I -envied him the chance. For some reason he did not become wildly -enthusiastic. Instead he kneeled down, as I had done, and put his head -into the fireplace, in his usual slow-going manner, and looked up to where -the small oblong of blue sky glowed far, far above him. -</p> -<p> -When he withdrew his head, he began some maundering talk about, an uncle -of his in Baltimore who was far from well, and who was likely to be -extremely dead or sick or married about Christmas time, but I had had too -much experience with such excuses to pay any attention to him. Isobel and -I gathered about him and talked as fast as we could, with merry little -laughs, and presently Jimmy seemed more resigned, and said he supposed if -he had to be Santa Claus there was no way out of it if he wanted t o keep -our friendship. So when he suggested getting an automobile coat to wear, -we hailed it as a splendidly original idea, and patted him on the back, -and he went away in a rather good humour, particularly when we told him he -need not come all the way down from the top of the chimney, but could get -into the chimney from the room above the parlour. I told him it would be -no trouble at all to take out the iron back of the fireplace, for it was -almost falling out, and that we would have a ladder in the chimney for him -to come down. -</p> -<p> -It was Mrs. Rolfs who changed our plans. -</p> -<p> -As soon as she heard we were going to have a Santa Claus, she brought over -a magazine and showed Isobel an article that said Santa Claus was lacking -in originality, and that it was much better to have two little girls -dressed as snow fairies distribute the presents from the tree, and Mrs. -Rolfs said she was willing to lend us her two daughters, if we insisted. -So we had to insist. -</p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="linkimage-0005" id="linkimage-0005"> </a> -</p> -<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> -<img src="images/99.png" alt="99" width="100%" /><br /> -</div> -<p> -By the merest oversight, such as might occur in any family excited over -the preparations for a Christmas party, Isobel forgot to tell Jimmy Dunn -that the plan was changed. She had enough to think of without thinking of -that, for she found, at the last moment, that she could not pick up a -regularly constituted pair of lovers for the little alcove room, and she -had to patch up a temporary pair of lovers by inviting Miss Seiler, -depending on Jimmy Dunn to do the best he could as the other half of the -pair. Of course Jimmy Dunn does not talk much, and it was apt to be a -surprise to him to learn he was scheduled to make love, but Miss Seiler -talks enough for two. When Jimmy arrived, about four o'clock Christmas -eve, Isobel let him know he was to be a lover, but he was then in the -house, and it was too late for him to get away. -</p> -<p> -Isobel had done nobly in securing guests. Jimmy and Miss Seiler were the -only guests from the city, but she had captured some suburbanites. Ten of -us made merry at the table—that is, all ten except Jimmy. I was -positively ashamed of Jimmy. There we were at the culminating hours of the -merry Yule-tide, gathered at the festive board itself, with a bowl of -first-rate home-made wassail with ice in it, and Jimmy was expected to -smile lovingly, and blush, and all that sort of thing, and what did he do? -He sat as mute as a clam, and started uneasily every time a new course -appeared. Before dessert arrived he actually arose and asked to be -excused. -</p> -<p> -Now, if <i>you</i> intended making a fool of yourself in a friend's house -by impersonating Santa Claus and coming down a chimney in a fur automobile -coat, and nonsense like that, <i>you</i> would have sense enough to -remember which room upstairs had the chimney that led down into the -parlour fireplace, wouldn't you? So I blame Jimmy entirely, and so does -Isobel. Jimmy says—of course he had to have some excuse—that -we might have told him we had given up the idea of having Santa Claus come -down the chimney, and that if we had wanted him to come down any -particular chimney we should have put a label on it. “Santa Claus enter -here,” I suppose. -</p> -<p> -Jimmy said he did the best he could; that he knew he did not have much -time between the threatened appearance of the dessert and the time he was -supposed to issue from the fireplace—and so on! He was quite excited -about it. Quite bitter, I may say. -</p> -<p> -It seems—or so Jimmy says—that, when he left the table, Jimmy -went upstairs and got into his automobile coat of fur, and his felt boots, -and his mask, and his fur gloves, and his long white hair, and his -stocking hat, and that about the time we were sipping coffee he was ready. -He says it was no joke to be done up in all those things in an overheated -house, and he thought if he got into the chimney he might be in a cool -draught, so he poked about until he found a fireplace and backed carefully -into it, and pawed with his left foot for the top rung of the ladder. That -was about the time we arose from the table with merry laughs, as nearly as -Isobel and I can judge. -</p> -<p> -No one missed Jimmy, except Miss Seiler, and she was so unused to being -made love to as Jimmy made love that she thought nothing of a temporary -absence. It was not until I took Jimmy's present from the tree and sent -one of the Rolfs fairies to hand it to Jimmy that we realized he was not -in the parlour, and then Isobel and I both felt hurt to think that Jimmy -had selfishly withdrawn from among us when we had gone to all the trouble -of getting the other half of a pair of lovers especially on his account. -It was not fair to Miss Seiler, and I told Jimmy so the next time I saw -him. -</p> -<p> -When the Rolfs fairy had looked in all the rooms, upstairs and down, and -had not found Jimmy, she came back and told Isobel, and that was when -Isobel remembered she had forgotten to tell Jimmy we had given up the idea -of having a Santa Claus. Isobel looked up the parlour chimney, but he was -not there, and then we all started merrily looking up chimneys. We found -Santa Claus up the library chimney almost immediately. He was still -kicking, but not with much vim—more like a man that is kicking -because he has nothing else to do than like a man that enjoys it. -</p> -<p> -I think we must have been gathering around the Christmas tree to the -cheery music of a carol when Santa Claus put his foot on a loose brick in -the fireplace and slipped. I claim that if Santa Claus had instantly -thrown his body forward he would have been safe enough, but Santa Claus -says he did not have time—that he slid down the chimney immediately, -as far as his arms would let him. He says that when he caught the edge of -the hearth with his hands he did yell; that he yelled as loud as any man -could who was wrapped in a fur coat and had his mouth full of white -horse-hair whiskers and his face covered by a mask. I say that proves he -yelled just as we were singing the carol. He should have yelled a moment -sooner, or should have waited half an hour, until the noise in the parlour -abated. Santa Claus says he tried to stay there half an hour, but the two -bricks he had grasped did not want to wait. They wanted to hurry down the -chimney without further delay, and they had their own way about it. So -Santa Claus went on down with them. -</p> -<p> -I tell Santa Claus that even if we were singing carols we would have heard -him if he had fallen to the library floor with a bump, and that it was his -fault if he did not fall heavily, but he blames the architect. He says -that if the chimney had been built large enough he would have done his -part and would have fallen hard, but that when he reached the narrow part -of the chimney he wedged there. I said that was the fault of wearing an -automobile coat that padded him out so he could not fall through an -ordinary chimney, and I asked him if he thought any man who meant to fall -down chimneys had ever before put on an automobile coat to fall in. -</p> -<p> -Certainly I, the host, could not be expected to stop the laughter and -merriment when I was taking presents from the tree, and bid every one be -silent and listen for the muffled tones of a Santa Claus in the library -chimney. I do not say Santa Claus did not yell as loudly as he could. -Doubtless he did. And I do not say he did not try to get out of the -chimney. He says he did, but that with his arms crowded above his head he -could do nothing but reach. He says he also kicked, but there was nothing -to kick. He says the most fruitless task in the world is to kick when -wedged in a chimney with a whole fur automobile coat crowded up under the -arms and nothing below to kick but air. -</p> -<p> -Luckily I was able to send for Mr. Rolfs and Mr. Millington, whose advice -is always valuable, since when I know what they advise I know what not to -do. Mr. Rolfs rushed in and was of the opinion that we must get a chisel -and chisel a hole in the library wall as near as possible to where Santa -Claus was reposing, but when Mr. Millington arrived, breathless, he said -this would be simple murder, for as likely as not the chisel would enter -between two bricks and perforate Santa Claus beyond repair. Mr. Millington -said the thing to do was to get a clothesline and attach it to Santa -Claus's feet and pull him down. He said it was logical to pull him -downward, because we would then be aided by the law of gravitation. Mr. -Rolfs said this was nonsense, and that it would only wedge Santa Claus in -the chimney more tightly, and that we would, in all probability, pull him -in two, or at least stretch him out so long that he would never be very -useful again. -</p> -<p> -Mr. Rolfs and Mr. Millington became quite heated in their argument. Mr. -Rolfs said that if a rope was to be used it should be used to pull Santa -Claus upward, but they compromised by agreeing to cut the clothesline in -two, choose up sides, and let one side pull Santa Claus upward, while the -other pulled him downward. Then Santa Claus would move in the direction of -least resistance. So they got the clothesline, and Mr. Rolfs was about to -cut it, when Miss Seiler screamed. -</p> -<p> -I was doubly glad she screamed just at that juncture, for we had all -become so interested in the Rolfs-Millington controversy that we had -forgotten how perishable a human being is, and, with two such stubborn men -as Rolfs and Millington urging us on, we might have pulled Santa Claus in -two while our sporting instincts were aroused by the tug-of-war. That was -one reason I was glad Miss Seiler screamed. The other reason was that it -showed she was doing her share of representing one half of a pair of -lovers. She had done rather poorly up to that time, but she saw that when -her lover was about to be pulled asunder was the time to scream, if she -was ever going to scream, so she screamed. So we all went upstairs and let -the rope down to Santa Claus, and the entire merry Christmas house party -pulled, and after we had jerked a few times up came Santa Claus with a -sudden bump. -</p> -<p> -At that moment Miss Seiler screamed again, and when we turned we saw the -reason, for the glass door to the little upper porch had opened and Jimmy -Dunn was entering the room. -</p> -<p> -We laid Santa Claus on the floor and let him kick, for he seemed to have -acquired the habit, but after awhile he slowed down and only jerked his -legs spasmodically. Mr. Millington explained that it was only the reflex -action of the muscles, and that probably Santa Claus would kick like that -for several months, whenever he lay down. He said if we had followed his -advice and pulled downward we would have yanked all the reflex action out -of the legs. -</p> -<p> -As soon as I pulled the mask from his face I recognized Mr. Prawley. Jimmy -slipped out of the room and walked all the way to the station, and Miss -Seiler stood around, not knowing whether she was to be half of a pair of -lovers with Mr. Prawley as the other half, or stop being a lover, or weep -because Jimmy had gone. I felt sorry for her, because Mr. Prawley was not -a good specimen of a Christmas lover just then. When we stood him on his -feet his trousers were still pushed up around his knees, and his fur coat -was around his neck. He was so weak we had to hold him up. -</p> -<p> -“What I want to know,” said Mr. Millington, “is what you were doing in -that chimney in my automobile coat?” - </p> -<p> -“Doing?” said Mr. Prawley. “Why, I'm jolly old Santa Claus. I come down -chimneys.” - </p> -<p> -“Well, my advice to you, Mr. Prawley,” I said, “is to stop it. You don't -do it at all right. Don't try it again. I've had enough of this jolly old -Santa Claus business. Who told you to do it?” - </p> -<p> -“The little gentleman with the scared look,” said Mr. Prawley, looking -around for Jimmy Dunn. “He isn't here.” - </p> -<p> -“And what did he give you for doing it?” I asked. -</p> -<p> -“Nothing!” said Mr. Prawley. “He just—” - </p> -<p> -“Just what?” I asked when he hesitated. Mr. Prawley drew me to one side -and whispered. -</p> -<p> -“He said I might wear an automobile coat. And I couldn't resist the -temptation,” said Mr. Prawley. “I've been hankering to get inside an -automobile coat for weeks and weeks, sir. I couldn't resist.” - </p> -<p> -Of course, I could make nothing of this at the time, so I merely said a -few words of good advice, and ordered Mr. Prawley never to try the Santa -Claus impersonation again. -</p> -<p> -“Of course, I'm only an amateur at it,” said Mr. Prawley apologetically, -and then he brightened, “but I made good speed as far as I got. I'll bet I -broke the world's speed record for jolly old Santa Clauses!” - </p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> </a> -</p> -<div style="height: 4em;"> -<br /><br /><br /><br /> -</div> -<h2> -VI. THE SPECKLED HEN -</h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>N order to relieve the reader's suspense, I may as well say here that -Jimmy Dunn did not marry Miss Seiler. It is too bad to have to sacrifice -what promised to be a first-class love interest, but the truth is that -there is less chance of Jimmy ever marrying Miss Seiler than there seemed -likelihood of Isobel and me reaching Port Lafayette in Mr. Millington's -automobile. -</p> -<p> -Usually when we started for Port Lafayette, my wife and Millington's wife -would dress for the matinée or church, or wherever they intended going -that day, and when Millington heard the knocking sound in his engine and -began to get out his tools, they would excuse themselves politely and go -and spend the day in the city. They usually returned in time to get into -the car and ride back to the garage. But I stuck to Millington. You never -can tell when a car of that kind will be ready to start up, and I was -really very anxious to go to Port Lafayette. I spent some very delightful -days with Millington that way, for when he was mending his car he was -always in a charming humour, and as gay and playful as a kitten. -</p> -<p> -I began to fear that one, if not the only, reason why Mr. Millington was -always in such a good humour when his car was in a bad one, was because I -had told him that I had heard of a man in Port Lafayette who had a fine -farm of White Wyandotte chickens, and that I thought I might buy some for -my place. Millington does not believe in Wyandottes. He is all for -Orpingtons. -</p> -<p> -It is remarkable how many wives object to chickens. I do not blame Isobel -for not liking chickens, for she was born in a flat, and I am willing to -make allowances for her lack of education; but why Mrs. Rolfs and Mrs. -Millington should dislike chickens was beyond my comprehension. Both were -born in the suburbs, and grew up in a real chickenish atmosphere, and -still they do not keep chickens. I must say, however, that Mr. Rolfs and -Mr. Millington are persons of greater intelligence. Almost the first day I -moved into the suburb of Westcote, Mr. Rolfs leaned over the division -fence and complimented me on my foresight in purchasing such an admirable -place on which to raise chickens. He told me that if I needed any advice -about chickens he would be glad to supply me with all I wished, just as a -neighbourly matter. He seemed to take it as a matter of course that I -would arrange for a lot of chickens as soon as I was fairly settled on the -place, and in this he was seconded by Mr. Millington. -</p> -<p> -When Mr. Millington saw Mr. Rolfs talking to me, he came right over and -said that, while he hated to boast, he had studied chickens from A to -Gizzard, and that when I was ready to get my chickens he could give me -some suggestions that would be simply invaluable. We talked the chicken -matter over very thoroughly, and I soon saw that they were men of -knowledge and deep experience in chicken matters, and when they had -decided that I would keep chickens, and what kind of chickens, and where I -should build the coop, and what kind of coop I should build, we all shook -hands warmly, and I went around front to tell Isobel. I was very -enthusiastic about chickens when I went. -</p> -<p> -After I had interviewed Isobel for three minutes I learned, definitely, -that I was not going to keep chickens. There were a great many things Mr. -Rolfs and Mr. Millington had not said about chickens, and those were the -very things Isobel told me, and they were all reasons for not having -chickens on the place at all. She also threw in an opinion of Mr. Rolfs -and Mr. Millington. It seemed that they were two villains of the most -depraved sort, who did not dare keep chickens themselves because they were -afraid of their wives, and who were trying to steal a vicarious joy by -bossing my chickens when I got them, but that I was not going to get any. -Absolutely! -</p> -<p> -Of course, I always do what Isobel tells me, and when she told me I was -not going to have chickens, I obeyed. But I merely told Mr. Rolfs and Mr. -Millington when they came over the next day, that I had been thinking the -matter over and that I was doubtful whether the south corner or the north -corner would be the best place for the coop. So we three went and looked -over the ground again. Both favoured the north corner, so I hung back and -seemed undecided and doubtful, and finally, in a week or two, they agreed -with me. -</p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="linkimage-0006" id="linkimage-0006"> </a> -</p> -<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> -<img src="images/123.png" alt="123" width="100%" /><br /> -</div> -<p> -I never saw two men so anxious to have a neighbour keep chickens. They -were willing to let me have almost everything my own way. It was quite a -strain on me, for I had to think of a new objection to their plans every -day or so, but I could see the suspense was harder on Mr. Rolfs and Mr. -Millington. Every morning they came and hung over my fence wistfully, and -every evening they came over and talked chickens, and on the train to town -they spoke freely of the chickens they were going to keep. In a month they -were talking of the chickens they <i>were</i> keeping, and bragging about -them; and old-seasoned chicken raisers used to hunt them up and sit with -them and ask for information on knotty points. -</p> -<p> -Toward fall Mr. Rolfs and Mr. Millington were beginning to talk about the -large sums of money they were making out of their chickens, and promising -settings of their White Orpington and White Wyandotte eggs to the -commuters, and they began to be really annoying. They would stand at the -fence, hollow-eyed and hungry-looking, staring into my yard, and when I -passed they would make slighting remarks about me and the lack of decision -in my character. They said sneeringly that they did not believe I would -ever get any chickens. -</p> -<p> -“You, Millington, and you, Rolfs,” I said firmly, “should remember one -thing: I am the man who is getting these chickens, and the main thing in -raising chickens is to start right. I do not want to go into this thing -hastily and then regret it all my life. If you do not like my way, all you -have to do is to build coops yourselves and buy chickens and raise them -yourselves. Be patient. Every day I am learning more about chickens from -your conversations on the train, and when I do get my chickens you will -find I have profited by your suggestions.” - </p> -<p> -Millington and Rolfs had to be satisfied with that, so far as I was -concerned, for although I spoke to Isobel frequently on the subject of -chickens she had not changed. I silenced Millington by telling him I would -have chickens long before he ever succeeded in taking Isobel and me to -Port Lafayette in his automobile. -</p> -<p> -“If that is all you are waiting for,” he said, “we will start to-morrow,” - and so we did; but that was all. -</p> -<p> -Millington and Rolfs, during the winter, worked off some of their surplus -chicken energy writing letters to the poultry periodicals. My friends in -town began asking me why I did not keep chickens when I lived near to such -chicken experts as Rolfs and Millington, by whose experience I could -profit; but the worst came one day on the train when Rolfs actually had -the assurance to offer me a setting of his White Wyandotte eggs. I blame -Rolfs and Millington for acting in this way. No man should brag about -chickens he has not; I only bragged about those I meant to get. -</p> -<p> -By the time spring put forth her tender leaves, Rolfs and Millington were -so deep in their imaginary chicken business that they talked nothing else, -and all their spare time was spent in my yard, urging me to hurry a little -and get the chickens. -</p> -<p> -“I wish you would hurry a bit in getting those chickens of mine,” - Millington would say; “I ought to have at least ten hens sitting by this -time.” And then Rolfs would say: “He is right about that. Unless you get -my White Wyandottes soon, the chicks will not be hatched out before cold -weather. I ought to have the hens on the eggs now.” Occasionally I -mentioned chickens in an off-hand way to Isobel, but she had not changed -her views. -</p> -<p> -“Now, Isobel,” I would say, “about chickens—” - </p> -<p> -At the word “chickens” Isobel would look at me reproachfully, and I would -end meekly: “About chickens, as I was saying. Don't you think we could -have a pair of broilers to-morrow?” - </p> -<p> -As a matter of fact, this happened so often that I began to hate the sight -of a broiled chicken, and was forced to mention roast chicken once in a -while. It was after one of these times that the event happened that -stirred all Westcote. -</p> -<p> -I had reached a point where I dodged Mr. Rolfs and Mr. Millington when I -saw them, in order to avoid their insistent clamour for chickens, when one -evening Isobel met me at the door with a smile. -</p> -<p> -“John!” she cried. “What do you think! Our chicken laid an egg!” - </p> -<p> -“Chicken?” I asked anxiously. “Did you say chicken?” - </p> -<p> -“And I am going to give you the egg for dinner,” cried Isobel joyfully. -“Just think, John! Our own egg, laid by our own chicken! Do you want it -fried, or boiled, or scrambled?” - </p> -<p> -“Isobel,” I demanded, “what is the meaning of all this?” - </p> -<p> -“I just could not kill the hen,” Isobel ran on, “after it had been so—so -friendly. Could I? I felt as if I would be killing one of the family.” - </p> -<p> -“People do get to feeling that way about chickens when they keep them,” I -said insinuatingly. “Why, Isobel, I have known wives to love chickens so -warmly—wives that had never cared a snap for chickens before—wives -that hated chickens—and they grew to love chickens so well that as -soon as the coop was made—of course it was a nice, clean, airy coop, -Isobel—and the dear little fluffy chicks began to peep about—” - </p> -<p> -Isobel stiffened. -</p> -<p> -“John,” she said finally “you are not going to keep chickens!” - </p> -<p> -“Certainly not!” I agreed hastily. -</p> -<p> -“But of course we can't kill Spotty,” said Isobel. “I call her Spotty -because that seems such a perfect name for her. I telephoned for a roaster -this morning, because you suggested having a roaster for dinner, John, and -when the roaster came it was a <i>live</i> chicken! Imagine!” - </p> -<p> -“Horrors!” I exclaimed. -</p> -<p> -“I should think so!” agreed Isobel. “So there was nothing to do but 'phone -the grocer to come and get the live roaster, but when I 'phoned, his -grandmother was much worse, and the store was closed until she got better—or -worse—and I couldn't bear to see the poor thing in the basket with -its legs tied all that time, for there is no telling how long an old -person like a grandmother will remain in the same condition, so I loosened -the roaster in the cellar, and at a quarter past four I heard it cluck. It -had laid an egg. I knew that the moment I heard it cluck.” - </p> -<p> -“Isobel,” I said, “you were born to be the wife of a chicken fancier! You -shall eat that egg!” - </p> -<p> -“No, John,” she said, “you shall eat it. It is our first real egg, laid by -our dear little Spotty, and you shall eat it.” - </p> -<p> -“No, Isobel,” I began, and then, as I saw how determined she was, I -compromised. “Let us have the egg scrambled,” I said, “and each of us eat -a part.” - </p> -<p> -“Very well,” said Isobel, “if you will promise not to kill Spotty. We will -keep her forever and forever!” - </p> -<p> -I agreed. Isobel kissed me for that. -</p> -<p> -After we had eaten the egg—and both Isobel and I agreed that it was -really a superior egg—we went down cellar and looked at Spotty. I -should say she was a very intelligent-looking hen, but homely. There was -nothing flashy about her. She was the kind of hen a man might enter in the -Sweepstakes class, and not get a prize, and then enter in the Consolation -class and not get a prize, and then enter for the Booby prize and still be -outclassed, and then enter in the Plain Old Barnyard Fowl class and not -get within ten miles of a prize, and then be taken to the butcher as a -Boarding House Broiler, and be refused on account of age, tough looks, and -emaciation. -</p> -<p> -She was no pampered darling of the hen house, but a plain old -Survival-of-the-Fittest Squawker; the kind of hen that along about the -first of May begins clucking in a vexed tone of voice, flies over the top -of a two-story bam, and wanders off somewhere into the tall grass back of -the cow pasture, to appear some weeks later with twelve chicks of twelve -assorted patterns, ranging from Shanghai-bantam to plain yellow -nondescript. She was a good, durable hen of the old school, with a wary, -startled eye, an extra loud squawk, and a brain the size of a grain of -salt. -</p> -<p> -Spotty was the sort of hen that could go right along day after day without -steam heat or elevators in her coop and manage to make a living. As soon -as I saw her, my heart swelled with pride, for I knew I had secured a very -rare variety of hen. Since every man that can tell a chicken from an -ostrich—and some that can't—has become a chicken fancier, the -aristocratic, raised-by-hand, pedigree fowl has become as common as dirt, -and it is indeed difficult to secure a genuine mongrel hen. I was elated. -As nearly as I could judge by first appearances, I was the owner of one of -the most mongrel hens that ever laid a plain, omelette-quality egg. -</p> -<p> -When I had made a coop by nailing a few slats across the front of a soap -box, and had nailed Spotty in, I took the coop under my arm and went into -the back yard. Mr. Millington was there, and Mr. Rolfs was there, and they -were arguing angrily about the respective merits of White Wyandottes and -White Orpingtons, but when they saw me they uttered two loud cries of joy -and ran to meet me. I tried to cling to the coop, but they wrested it from -me and together carried it in triumph to the north corner and set it on -the grass. Mr. Millington pulled his compass from his pocket and set the -coop exactly as advised by “The Complete Poultry Guide,” with the bars -facing the morning sun, and Rolfs hurried into the back lot and hunted up -a piece of bone, which he crushed with a brick and placed in the coop, as -advised by “The Gentleman Poultry Fancier.” He told us that a supply of -bone was most necessary if he expected his hen to lay eggs, and that he -knew this hen of his was going to be a great layer. He said he had given -the egg question years of study, and that he could tell a good egger when -he saw one. -</p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="linkimage-0007" id="linkimage-0007"> </a> -</p> -<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> -<img src="images/135.png" alt="135" width="100%" /><br /> -</div> -<p> -Millington told me his coop was not as he had meant it to be, but said it -would do until he could get one built according to scientific poultry -principles. He pointed out that the poultry coop should be heated by -steam, and showed me that there was no room in the soap box for a steam -heating plant. He said he would not trust his flock of chickens through -the winter unless there was steam heating installed. -</p> -<p> -Then Rolfs and Millington said they guessed the first thing to do, as it -was so late in the season, was to set their hen immediately, and as it -would probably take Spotty thirteen days to lay enough eggs, they told me -to run down to the delicatessen store and buy thirteen eggs, while they -arranged a scientific nest in the corner of their coop, for sitting -purposes. When I suggested that perhaps Spotty was not ready to set, they -laughed at me. They said they could see I would never make a prosperous -chicken farmer if I put off until to-morrow what the hen ought to do -to-day, and that a hen that ought to set, and would not set, must be made -to set. Millington said that he did not mind if Spotty wanted to lay. If -she felt so, she could go ahead and lay while she was taking her little -rests between sets. He said that in that way she would be doubly useful -and that, judging by appearances, she was the kind of hen that could do -two or three things at the same time. -</p> -<p> -Mr. Prawley, when he saw we were going to keep our hen, came out and spoke -to Mr. Millington, Mr. Rolfs, and me. He said he had an aversion to hens, -but that if I insisted he would devote some of his time to the hen, but -Mr. Millington, Mr. Rolfs, and I assured him we would not need his help. -We felt that the three of us, with occasional aid from Isobel, could -manage that hen. -</p> -<p> -The next day Mr. Millington and Mr. Rolfs were so swelled with pride that -they would not speak to me on the train. Millington did not ask me, that -entire day, to take a little run up to Port Lafayette in his automobile. I -heard him tell one man on the train to town that he had just set his -eighteen prize White Orpingtons, and I heard Rolfs tell another man, at -the same time, about a coop he had just had made for his White Wyandottes. -He drew a sketch of it on the back of an envelope, showing the location of -the heating plant, the location of the gasoline brooders, and the battery -of eight electric incubators. He said he saw but one mistake he had made, -which was that he had had a gravel roof put on. It should have been slate. -He was afraid the hens would fly up onto the roof and eat the gravel for -digestive purposes, and if a lot of tarry gravel got in their craws and -stuck together in a lump, his hens would suffer from indigestion. But he -said he meant to have the gravel roof taken off at once, regardless of -cost, but he had not quite decided on a slate roof. One of the slates -might become loosened and fall and kill one of his prize White Wyandottes, -which he held at seventy-five dollars each. If he could avoid the tar -trouble, Rolfs said, he ought to have twelve hundred laying hens by the -end of the summer, besides the broilers he would sell. He said he was -going straight to a distinguished chemist when he reached town to learn if -there was any dissolvent that would dissolve tar in a chicken's craw, -without harming the craw. -</p> -<p> -Then Millington drew a sketch of the automatic heat regulator he was -having made to attach to his heating apparatus. He said that ever since he -had been keeping poultry he had made a study of coop heating, and that the -trouble with most coops was that they were either too hot or too cold. He -said a cold coop meant that the chickens got chilly and exhausted their -vitality growing thick feathers when all their strength should have been -used in egg-laying, and that a hot coop meant that the chickens felt lax -and indolent. A hot coop enervated a chicken and made it too lazy to lay -eggs, Millington said, but this regulator he was having made would keep -the heat at an even temperature, summer and winter, and render the hens -bright and cheerful and inclined to do their best. Millington explained -that this was especially necessary with White Orpingtons, which are great -eaters and consequently more inclined toward nervous dyspepsia, which -makes a hen moody. He was going on in this way, and every one was hanging -on his words, when he happened to say that one thing he always attended to -most particularly was the state of his hens' teeth. He said he had, so -far, avoided dyspepsia in his hens, by keeping their teeth in good -condition. Every one knew poor teeth caused stomach troubles. -</p> -<p> -That was the end of Millington. Rolfs had been green with jealousy because -so many commuters were listening to Millington, and the moment Millington -mentioned teeth Rolfs sneered. -</p> -<p> -“How many teeth do White Orpingtons have, Millington?” he asked. -</p> -<p> -“I did not know they had any.” - </p> -<p> -Then Millington saw his mistake, and did his best to explain that as a -rule chickens had no teeth, but that he had, by a process of selection, -created a strain that had eighteen teeth, nine above and nine below, but -no one believed him, and Rolfs was crowing over him when he made his -mistake. He was bragging that he never made a mistake of that kind, -because he knew hens never got indigestion in any such way. All that was -necessary he said, was to let them have plenty of exercise, and to let -them out once in a while for a good fly. He said he let his hens out once -every three days, so they could fly from tree to tree. -</p> -<p> -Then Millington asked, sneeringly, how high his hens could fly, and Rolfs -said they were in such good condition they thought nothing of flying to -the top of a forty-foot elm tree, and Millington sneered and said any one -could guess what kind of White Wyandottes Rolfs had, when a common White -Wyandotte is so heavy it cannot fly over a rake handle. That was the end -of Rolfs, and I was glad of it, for the two of them had been getting -enough reputation on the strength of my chickens. They sneaked out of the -smoking car, and at last I had a chance to say a few words, modestly of -course, about my splendid group of six hundred Buff Leghorns. I did not -brag, as Millington and Rolfs had bragged, but stated facts coldly and -calmly, and my words met the attention they deserved, for I was not -speaking without knowledge, as Millington and Rolfs had spoken, but as a -man who owns a hen can speak. -</p> -<p> -I reached home that evening in a pleasant state of mind, for I knew how -kind hearted Isobel is, and I knew she would see, if I placed it before -her, that it was extremely cruel to keep a hen in solitary confinement, -when the hen had probably been accustomed to a great deal of society. I -felt sure that in a few days Isobel would order me to purchase enough more -poultry to allow Spotty to lead a pleasant and sociable life. But when -Isobel met me at the gate she disheartened me. -</p> -<p> -She said the grocer's grandmother had not been seriously ill, after all; -she had been in a mere comatose condition, and had come to, and the grocer -had come back, and he had called and taken Spotty. He offered to kill her—Spotty, -not Isobel or his grandmother—but Isobel could not bear to eat -Spotty so soon after she had been a member of our family, so the grocer -took Spotty away and sent up another roaster. At least he said it was -another, but after I had carved it I had my doubts. In general strength -and durability the roaster and Spotty were one. -</p> -<p> -The next morning, when I went out to see if Mr. Prawley had hoed the -garden properly, I found Mr. Rolfs and Mr. Millington leaning over my -fence. They were unabashed. -</p> -<p> -“I have just been looking over your place,” said Rolfs, “and I must say it -is a most admirably located place on which to keep a cow. And if you want -any suggestions on cow-keeping, you may call on me at any time. I have -studied the cow, in all her moods and tenses, for years.” - </p> -<p> -“Nonsense!” said Millington. “A man is foolish to try to keep live stock. -Live stock is subject to all the ills—” - </p> -<p> -“Such as toothache!” sneered Rolfs. -</p> -<p> -“All the ills of man and beast,” continued Millington. “What you want is -an automobile. Now I will sell mine—” - </p> -<p> -“No!” I said positively. -</p> -<p> -“You only say that because you do not know my automobile as I know it,” - said Millington. “It is a wonder, that machine is. Now, I propose that -to-morrow you and your wife take a little run up to Port Lafayette with me -and my wife. After the cares of chicken raising—” - </p> -<p> -“Very well, Millington,” I said, “we will go to Port Lafayette!” - </p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> </a> -</p> -<div style="height: 4em;"> -<br /><br /><br /><br /> -</div> -<h2> -VII. CHESTERFIELD WHITING -</h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HE next morning Millington came over bright and early, and his face was -aglow with joy. -</p> -<p> -“Get ready as quickly as you can,” he said, “for I will be ready to start -for Port Lafayette in a few minutes. The automobile is in perfect order, -and we should have a splendid trip. She isn't knocking at all.” This -knocking, which was located in the motor-case, or hood, was one of the -most reliable noises of all those for which Millington listened when he -started the engine of his automobile. He was very fond of it, and it was -one of the heartiest knockings I ever heard in an automobile. It was like -the hiccoughs, only more strenuous. It was as if a giant had been shut in -the motor by mistake and was trying to knock the whole affair to pieces. -The knock came about every eight seconds, lightly at first, getting -stronger and stronger until it made the fore-end of the automobile bounce -up a foot or eighteen inches at each knock. -</p> -<p> -Millington loved all the sounds of trouble, but this knocking gave him the -most pleasure and put him in his pleasantest mood, for he could never -quite discover the cause of it. When everything else was in perfect order -the knock remained. He would do everything any man could think of to cure -it, but the machine would continue to knock. I remember he even went so -far as to put a new inner tube in a tire once, to see if that would have -any effect, but it did not. But there were plenty of other noises, too. -Millington once told me he had classified and scheduled four hundred and -eighteen separate noises of disorder that he had heard in that one -automobile, and that did not include any that might be another noise for -the same disorders. And some days he would hear the whole four hundred and -eighteen before we had gone a block. Those were his happy days. -</p> -<p> -But this morning Millington came over bright and early. Isobel was just -putting a cake in the oven, and she only took time to tell Jane, or -Sophie, or whoever happened to be our maid that week, that she would be -back in time to take the cake out, and then we went over to Millington's -garage. -</p> -<p> -Mrs. Millington, was already in the automobile, and Isobel and I got in, -and Millington opened the throttle and the machine ran down the road to -the street as lightly and skimmingly as a swallow. It glided into the -street noiselessly and headed for Port Lafayette like a thing alive. I -noticed that Millington looked anxious, but I thought nothing of it at the -time. His brow was drawn into a frown, and from moment to moment he pulled -his cap farther and farther down over his eyes. He leaned far over the -side of the car. He listened so closely that his ears twitched. -</p> -<p> -Mrs. Millington and Isobel were chatting merrily on the rear seat, and I -was just turning to cast them a word, when the car came to a stop. I -turned to Milllington instantly, ready to catch the pleasant bit of humour -he usually let fall when he began to dig out his wrenches and pliers, but -his face wore a glare of anger. His jaws were set, and he was muttering -low, intense curses. I have seldom seen a man more demoniacal than -Millington was at that moment. I asked him, merrily, what was the matter -with the old junk shop this time, but instead of his usual chipper -repartee, that “the old tea kettle has the epizootic,” he gave me one -ferocious glance in which murder was plainly to be seen. -</p> -<p> -Without a word he began walking around the automobile, eyeing it -maliciously, and every time he passed a tire he kicked it as hard as he -could. Then he began opening all the opening parts, and when he had opened -them all and had peered into them long and angrily he went over to the -curb and sat down and swore. Isobel and Mrs. Millington politely stuffed -their handkerchiefs in their ears, but I went over to Millington and spoke -to him as man to man. -</p> -<p> -“Millington,” I said severely, “calm down! I am surprised. Time and again -I have started for Port Lafayette with you, and time and again we have -paused all day while you repaired the automobile. Much as I have wished to -go to Port Lafayette I have never complained, because you have always been -better company while repairing the machine than at any other time. But -this I cannot stand. If you continue to act this way I shall never again -go toward Port Lafayette with you. Brace up, and repair the machine.” - </p> -<p> -Millington's only answer was a curse. -</p> -<p> -I was about to take him by the throat and teach him a little better -manners when he arose and walked over to the machine again. He got in and -started the motor, and listened intently while I ran alongside. Then, with -a great effort he controlled his feelings and spoke. -</p> -<p> -“Ladies,” he said between his teeth, “we shall have to postpone going to -Port Lafayette. I am afraid to drive this car any farther. There is -something very, very serious the matter with it.” - </p> -<p> -Then, when the women had disappeared, my wife walking rapidly so as to -arrive at home before her cake was scorched, Millington turned to me. -</p> -<p> -“John,” he said with emotion, “you must excuse the feeling I showed. I was -upset; I admit that I was overcome. I have owned this car four years, but -in all that time, although I have started for Port Lafayette nearly every -day, the car has never behaved as it has just behaved. I am a brave man, -John, and I have never been afraid of a motor-car before, but when my car -acts as this car has just acted, I <i>am</i> afraid!” - </p> -<p> -I could see he was speaking the truth. His face was white about the mouth, -and the tense lines showed he was nerving himself to do his duty. His -voice trembled with the intensity of his self-control. -</p> -<p> -“John,” he said, taking my hand, “were you listening to the car?” - </p> -<p> -“No,” I had to admit. “No, Millington, I was not. I am ashamed to say it, -but at the moment my mind was elsewhere. But,” I added, as if in self -defence, “I am pretty sure I did not hear that knocking. I remember quite -distinctly that I was not holding on to anything, and when the engine -knocks—But what did you hear?” - </p> -<p> -A shiver of involuntary fear passed over Millington, and he lowered his -voice to a frightened whisper. He glanced fearfully at the automobile. -</p> -<p> -“Nothing!” he said. -</p> -<p> -“What?” I cried. I could not hide my astonishment and, I am afraid, my -disbelief. I would not, for the world, have had Millington think I thought -he was prevaricating. -</p> -<p> -“Not a thing!” he repeated firmly. “Not a sound; not one bad symptom. -Every—everything was running just as it should—just as they do -in other automobiles.” - </p> -<p> -“Millington!” I said reproachfully. -</p> -<p> -“It is the truth!” he declared. “I swear it is the truth. Nothing seemed -broken or about to break. I could not hear a sound of distress, or a -symptom of disorder. Do you wonder I was overcome?” - </p> -<p> -“Millington,” I said seriously, “this is no light matter. I shall not -accuse you of wilfully lying to me, but I know your automobile, and I -cannot believe your automobile could proceed four hundred feet without -making noises of internal disorder. It is evident to me that your hearing -is growing weak; you may be threatened with deafness.” At this Millington -seemed to cheer up considerably, for deafness was something he could -understand. I proposed that we both get into the automobile again, and I, -too, would listen. So we did. It was almost pathetic, it was most -pathetic, to see the way Millington looked up into my face to see what -verdict I would give when he started the motor. -</p> -<p> -My verdict was the very worst possible. We ran a block at low speed and I -could hear no trouble. We ran a block at second speed, and no distressful -noise did I hear. We ran two blocks at high speed, with no noise but the -soft purring of motors and machinery. As Millington brought the automobile -to a stop we looked at each other aghast. It was true, too true, <i>nothing -was the matter with the automobile!</i> It sparked, it ignited, it did -everything a perfect automobile should do, just as a perfect automobile -should do it. We got out and stared at the automobile silently. -</p> -<p> -“John,” said Millington at length, “you can easily see that I would not -dare to start on a long trip like that to Port Lafayette when my -automobile is acting in this unaccountable manner. It would be the most -foolhardy recklessness. When this machine is running in an absolutely -perfect manner, almost anything may be the matter with it. My own opinion -is that a spell has been cast over it, and that it is bewitched.” - </p> -<p> -“I never knew it to come as far as this without stopping,” I said, “and to -come this far without a single annoying noise makes me sure we should not -attempt Port Lafayette to-day in this car. I shall take a little jaunt -into the country behind my horse, and—” - </p> -<p> -“But don't go to Port Lafayette,” pleaded Millington. “Perhaps the -automobile will be worse to-morrow. If she only develops some of the -noises I am familiar with I shall not be afraid of her.” - </p> -<p> -One of the pleasures of being a suburbanite is that you can have a horse, -and one of the pleasures of having a horse is that you keep off the main -roads when you go driving, lest the automobiles get you and your horse -into an awful mess. In driving up cross roads and down back roads you -often run across things you would like to own—things the -automobilist never sees—and Isobel and I had heard of a genuine -Windsor chair of ancient lineage. I imagine the chair may have been almost -as old as our horse. When Mr. Millington told me we could not go to Port -Lafayette in his automobile that day, I hurried home and had Mr. Prawley -harness Bob, and it was that day, when we were hunting the Windsor chair, -that we ran across Chesterfield Whiting. Since Isobel had begun to like -suburban life, she liked it as only a convert could, and the moment she -saw Chesterfield Whiting she declared we must, by all means, keep a pig, -and that Chesterfield Whiting was the pig we must keep. -</p> -<p> -Personally I was not much in favour of keeping a pig. I like things that -pay dividends more frequently. I would not give much for a vegetable -garden that had to be planted in the spring, worked all summer, tended all -fall, and that only yielded its product in the winter. I prefer a garden -that gives a vegetable once in awhile. Mine does that—it gives a -vegetable every once in awhile. But a pig is a slow dividend payer. -</p> -<p> -I had noticed that Mr. Rolfs and Mr. Millington had never urged me to get -a pig. Whenever I mentioned pig they mentioned various deadly and popular -pig diseases. They had urged me to garden, and to keep chickens, and a -horse, and a cow, and even an automobile—Millington urged me to keep -his—but never a pig! I would not hint that Rolfs and Millington were -selfish, or that they hoped to receive, now and then, milk from my cow, -eggs from my chickens, or radishes from my garden, but a neighbour may -profit in that way. On the other hand, the neighbour never profits from -the suburban pig. I believe now, however, that Rolfs and Millington wished -me to have things that would pay as they went. -</p> -<p> -But the moment Isobel saw the pig she said we must have him, because he -was so cute. I had never thought of buying a pig because it was cute any -more than I would have thought of buying a spring bonnet because it would -fatten well for winter killing, but I yielded to Isobel. -</p> -<p> -Isobel said the idea of a pig being a nuisance was all nonsense, for she -had been reading a magazine that was largely devoted to pigs and similar -objects loved by country gentlemen, and that modern science proved beyond -a doubt that the cleaner the pig the happier it was. She said a pig could -not be too clean, and that if a pig was kept perfectly tidy no one could -object to it. -</p> -<p> -“John,” she said, “there is no reason in the world why a pig should not be -as clean as a new pin. The magazine says that if a pig is usually of a -coarse, disgruntled nature, it is only because it is kept in coarse, -brutalizing surroundings, and treated like a pig. If a pig is put amidst -sweetness and light, the pig's nature will be sweet and light, and the pig -will be sweet and light.” - </p> -<p> -I suggested gently that a pig, all things considered, was usually counted -a failure if it was a light pig, and that experts had decided in favour of -the pig that became heavy and soggy. -</p> -<p> -“What I mean,” said Isobel, “is light in spirit, not light in weight.” - </p> -<p> -We were looking over the fence of a farm when we held this little -conversation, and Chesterfield Whiting was sporting on the clean, green -clover, amidst his brothers, quite unconscious that he was so soon to be -separated from them and lose their companionship. We had been attracted to -him by a very hand-made sign that announced “Pigs for Sale.” Chesterfield -was an extremely clean pig, and I must admit that I was rather taken by -his looks myself, and when we drove around to the farm house I was -surprised to learn how inexpensive a pig of tender years is, and I bought -the pig. It is hard for me to deny Isobel these little pleasures. -</p> -<p> -On our way home Isobel and I talked of the future of Chesterfield, and we -resolved that his life should be one grand, sweet song, as the poet says, -and we had hardly started homeward than it appeared as if Chesterfield -meant to attend to the song feature of his life himself. I never imagined -a pig would feel his separation from his native place so keenly. He began -to mourn in a keen treble key the moment the farmer grabbed him, uttering -long, sharp wails of sorrow, and he kept it up. Automobiles with siren -horns stopped in the road as we passed, and the chauffeurs took off their -goggles and stared at us. It was very hard for Isobel to sit up straight -in the carriage and look dignified and cool with Chesterfield wailing out -his little soul sorrows under the seat. -</p> -<p> -As we neared the outskirts of Westcote, I began to keep an eye out for pig -houses. It seemed to me that in these days of uplift the pig keepers of a -suburb such as ours, peopled by intelligent men and women, would have the -most modern improvements in pig dwellings, and I desired to make a few -mental notes of them as I passed by. If I saw a very modern pig palace I -meant to get out of the carriage and examine minutely the conveniences -installed for the pig's comfort, so that I might reproduce them. -</p> -<p> -Isobel had mentioned casually that a pig dwelling with tile floors and -walls and a shower bath would be quite sanitary, provided the tiles of the -wall met the tiles of the floor in a concave curve, leaving no sharp -angles; but as we journeyed into the village we saw no pig houses of this -kind. In fact we saw no pig houses of any kind. At first this only annoyed -me, then it surprised me, and by the time we were well into the village it -worried me. -</p> -<p> -“Isobel,” I said, “I don't like this absence of pigs in this village. I am -afraid there is something wrong here. I don't know what to make of it. It -may be that hog-cholera is epidemic here the year 'round, just as San José -scale kills all the apple trees. Have you seen a single pig?” - </p> -<p> -“Not one,” she admitted. “It looks as if there was a law against pigs.” - </p> -<p> -I stopped Bob, and looked at Isobel in amazement. -</p> -<p> -“Isobel!” I exclaimed. “You must be right! There must be a law against -pigs! I do wish Chesterfield would stop yelling!” - </p> -<p> -“John,” said Isobel, “now that I come to think of it I do not believe I -ever saw a pig in all Westcote. I wonder if we couldn't gag Chesterfield -some way? If he howls like that every one will know we have a pig.” - </p> -<p> -I gagged the pig. I took Isobel's pink veil and wrapped it firmly around -Chesterfield's nose, and brought the ends around his neck and tied them. -Then I stuck his head into the sleeve of my rain coat and wrapped him in -the coat, and tied it all in the linen dust robe. He was well gagged. -</p> -<p> -“Isobel,” I said, as I took up the reins again, “this is a serious matter. -We will have to get rid of this pig, and we will have to do it quickly. I -do not want to get into difficulties with the City of New York. Keeping a -pig in the suburbs is evidently a crime, and it is a difficult crime to -conceal. If I committed a murder and used ordinary precautions there might -be no danger of detection, but a pig speaks for itself.” - </p> -<p> -“Chesterfield does,” said Isobel. “Do you suppose they will put you in -jail?” - </p> -<p> -“<i>Me</i> in jail?” I ejaculated. “He is your pig, Isobel.” - </p> -<p> -“John,” she said generously, “I give Chesterfield to you.” - </p> -<p> -“Isobel,” I said, “I cannot accept the sacrifice. He is your pig.” - </p> -<p> -“Well,” she said, “we will go to prison together.” - </p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> </a> -</p> -<div style="height: 4em;"> -<br /><br /><br /><br /> -</div> -<h2> -VIII. SALTED ALMONDS -</h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span>S we approached our house, Mr. Millington, who was in his garage, and Mr. -Rolfs, who was on his porch, came to meet us. They looked at the carriage -with suspicion, but I assumed a careless, innocent look, well calculated -to deceive them. They came down to the carriage, and laid their hands on -it, and glanced into it. Mr. Rolfs, with ill-assumed absent-mindedness, -lifted the leather cover of the rear of the carriage box and glanced in. I -was glad we had put Chesterfield Whiting under the seat. -</p> -<p> -“Shall I take in the—” Isobel began, but I cut her words short. -</p> -<p> -“No, I will take in your <i>wraps</i>,” I said meaningly, and then added: -“Well, good night, Millington; good night, Rolfs.” - </p> -<p> -They did not take the hint. They walked beside the carriage as I drove to -the stable, and although Mr. Prawley was able to do the work alone, and I -made some excuse to help him, Rolfs and Millington seemed eager to help -us. -</p> -<p> -“I worked two hours over my automobile,” said Millington, “and she is -knocking again as usual. To-morrow, I propose you and I and our wives will -take a little pig up to Port Lafayette—” - </p> -<p> -“Pig?” I said. “What do you mean by pig, Millington.” - </p> -<p> -“Did I say pig?” said Millington in great confusion. “I meant to say: -'take a little spin.'” - </p> -<p> -“John will think you think he is thinking of keeping a pig,” said Rolfs -accusingly to Millington. “He will think you are doubting his sanity. John -would no more keep a pig on this place—” - </p> -<p> -“Certainly not!” I cried. “The idea! Keep a pig!” - </p> -<p> -“Well, you know,” said Millington, and then stopped. “What is that -squeak?” he asked. -</p> -<p> -I knew only too well what that squeak was. It was Chesterfield. -</p> -<p> -“That?” I said carelessly. “Oh, that is nothing. My carriage springs need -oiling. Mr. Prawley, don't forget to oil the carriage springs to-morrow.” - </p> -<p> -“Yes, sir,” said Mr. Prawley, “but if I might suggest feeding the—” - </p> -<p> -“Ahem!” I said loudly. “Oil the springs, Prawley. To-morrow.” - </p> -<p> -“When I said 'take a little pig,'” said Millington, “I meant—” - </p> -<p> -“Millington,” I said, “I forgive you! Men will make mistakes—slip of -the tongue—Well, good night!” - </p> -<p> -“See here,” said Millington, “I know you feel some resentment.” - </p> -<p> -“No I don't! Good night!” I said angrily. -</p> -<p> -“Yes you do!” said Millington. “And I'll tell you why. You remember you -mentioned, some time ago, that you thought you would keep a pig? -Personally I would be delighted to have you keep a pig or even a lot of -pigs. You could make an infernal stock yard of your place if you wanted -to. I love pigs. If I could have my way I would have a pig pen immediately -under my window, so that when I awakened in the morning I could glance -down at the happy, contented creatures. Nothing starts the day so well as -to see contented creatures, and there is nothing so contented as a pig. If -I could have my own way I would beg you to build your pig pen immediately -under my window. But I am not a selfish man.” - </p> -<p> -“I know you are not, Millington,” I said; “but I am not considering the -purchase of a pig. Good night!” - </p> -<p> -“Of course you are not,” said Rolfs, “and I only want to say that if you -do keep a pig you can gratify Millington, for every law of pig culture -demands that you build your pig house against the western fence, and not -against my fence. The pig is a delicate creature, and his pen should be -where the invigorating rays of the morning sun can strike him. Now my -fence is the eastern fence—” - </p> -<p> -“And this man Rolfs pretends to be your friend!” exclaimed Millington -sneeringly. -</p> -<p> -“Why every one knows that unless a pig has sweet dreams he becomes moody -and listless, and loses interest in life. A pig's place of residence -should always be where the last rays of the sun can strike him—against -the eastern fence. You want to put that pen against Rolf's fence.” - </p> -<p> -At this Mr. Rolfs became greatly agitated. He glared at Mr. Millington, -and shook his fist at me. -</p> -<p> -“You'll put no pig pen on my side of your yard!” he said threateningly. -</p> -<p> -“And you keep your pig pen away from my fence,” said Mr. Millington hotly. -“I am your friend, and I start to Port Lafayette with you day after day—” - </p> -<p> -“Millington,” said Rolfs, calming himself, “we will not have a pig in this -neighbourhood at all. If this fellow attempts to keep a pig we will have -the law on him. That is what we will do!” - </p> -<p> -“That is what we will do, Rolfs,” said Millington, “at the first evidence -of a pig we will set the police on him. We won't stand it!” “Gentlemen,” I -said calmly, “I have no intention of keeping a pig. Such an idea never -entered my mind. And as for you, Millington, I know you now. You have -shown yourself as you are. Never again, Millington, shall I start to Port -Lafayette in your automobile. That is final! Good night, gentlemen!” - </p> -<p> -Millington and Rolfs went off arm in arm, and when they were out of sight -I hurriedly rescued Chesterfield Whiting, in all his wrappings, from under -the seat, and rushed him into the house. I let Mr. Prawley continue to -unharness the horse. I told Isobel what my neighbours had said. -Chesterfield, in his gags, lay at my feet. -</p> -<p> -“To-morrow, Isobel,” I said, “we must get rid of Chesterfield Whiting. In -the meantime we must keep him a dark secret. We must keep him silent, or -we are lost.” - </p> -<p> -Suddenly the dust-robe bundle at our feet began to palpitate violently. It -bounced like a fish out of water, and I made a grab for it. Chesterfield -screamed. I threw myself hastily upon him and wrapped him in my arms and -muzzled the bunch of veil that was his nose with my hand. As I stood erect -again I chanced to glance out of the window, and I saw Mr. Rolfs and Mr. -Millington in deep conversation with a policeman. From time to time they -turned and glanced at my house. Motioning Isobel to follow me, I bore -Chesterfield to the attic. We closed the windows of the trunk room in the -attic, and locked the door. Then I opened a trunk, unwrapped Chesterfield -and dropped him into the trunk, and shut the lid. And sat on it. -</p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="linkimage-0008" id="linkimage-0008"> </a> -</p> -<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> -<img src="images/175.png" alt="175" width="100%" /><br /> -</div> -<p> -Isobel peeked out of the window, and told me that the policeman and Mr. -Rolfs and Mr. Millington were staring at our attic windows. -</p> -<p> -An ordinary pig would have been glad to be unwrapped and dropped into a -cozy, roomy trunk, but Chesterfield was no ordinary pig. He was a weeper. -First he wailed for his lost home. Then he screamed for his mother. Then -he shrieked for each of his dear little brothers and sisters individually. -Then he opened his lungs and squealed for all of them at once, and the -policeman took out his note-book and wrote down the number of our house. I -realized then that keeping a pig in the suburbs is attended by -difficulties. The theory of keeping your pigs cheerful and happy is all -right in a book, but it is hard to live up to when the pig is homesick and -a policeman with a note-book is on your front walk. It is well enough for -an agricultural writer to sit in his hall bedroom in the city and scribble -about uplifting the pig, and spiritualizing it, and bathing it, but did he -ever try to soothe a homesick pig in an attic? Did he ever try to bathe a -pig in a trunk? Did he ever try to scatter sunshine in a pig's life when -the pig has firmly made up its mind to mourn? Did he ever try to reason -with the pig when the pig is full of squeal, and has no desire in life but -to pour forth eons and leagues of it? -</p> -<p> -When a pig feels like that, it is useless to read it chapters from -Hamilton Wright Mabie's “Essays on Nature and Culture.” Occasionally I -opened the lid of the trunk and looked in to assure myself that there was -but one pig, and not three or four. When a pig reaches the stage where its -eyes become set and stary, and it gives forth long, soul-piercing wails, -it does not want a bath. It does not want sunshine, nor Bible classes, nor -uplift, nor simple life. It wants food. -</p> -<p> -The more I studied Chesterfield the more certain I became that if a man -wants to win the affection of a pig he can best do so, not by lifting the -pig over the edge of a porcelain bath tub every few hours to give it a -rub-down, but by standing by with a couple of tons of feed and shovelling -it down the pig with a scoop-shovel. The pig's squawker and its swallower -are one and the same instrument, and the only way to keep the squawker -quiet is to keep the swallower plugged with food. In its idle hours the -pig may long for sweetness and light, but it wants meals at all hours of -the day and night. -</p> -<p> -We found that Chesterfield preferred salted almonds to affection. He began -eating salted almonds immediately after we had fed him everything else in -the house that was edible, and by feeding him one almond at a time Isobel -was able to keep him interested. By this means she kept his mind off his -sorrows. He could not weep and chew. -</p> -<p> -Time and again, as the hours slipped by, Isobel tested Chesterfield, to -see if he was satisfied, but at each test his sorrow broke forth afresh. I -never knew a pig was so full of sorrows. I would not have believed that so -small a pig, so full of salted almonds, could have room for one small -sorrow. And yet, the moment Isobel ceased feeding him, he would run around -inside the trunk, nosing it and wailing for—I don't know what he was -wailing for! -</p> -<p> -About midnight, when Isobel was worn out, I took her place and let her go -to bed. I told her I would feed salted almonds until three, and then call -her, and she could feed until six, while I got a little sleep. About two -o'clock in the morning I gave Chesterfield his eighteenth drink of water, -and when I offered him another salted almond he seemed languid. He eyed it -covetously, opened his mouth, sighed once, and fell over sideways. His -regular breathing told me he had fallen into a deep, sweet sleep, and I -removed my shoes and stole softly downstairs. -</p> -<p> -“He has fallen asleep,” I told Isobel, “and I think he will probably take -a good nap. He has had a hard day. I left him quite comfortable and—” - </p> -<p> -“Drink! Almonds! Mother! I'm lone-lee-ee-wee-wee-wee!” wailed Chesterfield -at that instant, and I hurried up to the attic. I threw open the lid of -the trunk, and found him standing on his feet. He was still asleep, his -white-lashed eyes firmly closed in slumber, but his squealer was working -as if he were awake, and when I fed him a salted almond he munched and -swallowed it without awakening, and squealed for another. He was so sound -asleep that he could not even reach out for the almonds; I had to poke -them into his mouth. When I missed his mouth and dropped the almond on the -floor of the trunk he squealed. At last he lay down comfortably and slept -and ate almonds. -</p> -<p> -I had one great fear. I was running out of almonds. So I tried him with -wads of newspaper, and found they satisfied him quite as well. I fed him a -complete Sunday newspaper, including the coloured supplement and the -“want” advertisements, before sunrise. I imagine the newspaper was not -very nourishing, for Chesterfield awakened at sunrise with a tremendous -appetite, and let us know, plainly, that he was starving to death. I fed -him my breakfast and Isobel's while Mr. Prawley was digging up what -remained in our vegetable garden, and when Chesterfield had eaten that I -gagged him with the pink veil, and stuffed his head in the sleeve of my -rain coat once more. -</p> -<p> -“Isobel,” I said, “the time has at last come when we must cease keeping -pigs. I love to be surrounded by affection, but I believe we have kept -this pig long enough. An attic is no place in which to run a modern swine -industry. It is too far from the nearest bath tub. Bathe him now, if you -would bathe him at all, for he is going back to the farm.” - </p> -<p> -“If we packed him in a trunk,” said Isobel thoughtfully, paying no -attention to the bath suggestion, “we might send him back to the farmer by -express, and Mr. Rolfs and Mr. Millington would never know we had—” - </p> -<p> -“That is a good idea,” I said, “except that we do not know the name of the -farmer, and that the Interurban does not deliver express parcels twelve -miles from Westcote—” - </p> -<p> -“We might pack him in a suit case,” suggested Isobel. “If we packed him in -the suit case and pretended we were going on a picnic and that the suit -case was our lunch—I suppose Chesterfield will be some one's lunch -some day?” - </p> -<p> -“Fine!” I said, and we began pretending we were going on a picnic. I -packed Chesterfield Whiting in the suit case, and then went down and had -Mr. Prawley harness the horse. I noticed that the policeman was still -hanging near our house, and that Mr. Millington was eyeing me from his -porch. -</p> -<p> -“Ah! Millington!” I called cheerfully. “Fine day for a picnic! Isobel and -I are just off for one.” - </p> -<p> -He came running over immediately. “Admirable!” he cried. “I was just -coming over to suggest that very thing. The automobile is running -beautifully this morning, and we four can run up to Port Lafayette—” - </p> -<p> -Port Lafayette! -</p> -<p> -“Millington,” I said, assuming an angry tone, “last evening you insulted -me, and you seem to think I will forgive you thus easily. No indeed! I am -not that sort of man, Millington. I will not take Isobel to Port -Lafayette, for I have promised to let you take us there, but we will go on -this picnic behind Bob. And if you see Rolfs just tell him what a silly -ass he made of himself, thinking I would be crazy enough to keep a pig. I -may be some kinds of a fool, Millington, but I am not that kind!” - </p> -<p> -I think Millington blushed. He should have blushed. Saying I would keep a -pig, indeed! -</p> -<p> -When I returned for Isobel and carried the suit case downstairs I felt as -light-hearted as a boy. Chesterfield was so well muzzled and gagged that -he made no sound whatever, and when I stepped from my door, with Isobel by -my side, I was pleased to see Rolfs stepping from his front door, and I -hailed him. He stopped, but he looked annoyed. -</p> -<p> -“If you want to say anything ugly, say it quick,” he said, “for I'm in a -rush to catch a train, and if I just catch it, I can just catch the ferry, -to catch a train for Chicago. I can't stop now—” - </p> -<p> -“Get in the buggy,” I said heartily, “we will drive you to the station. -Isobel and I are going on a little picnic. Put your suit case in the back, -with ours. We always carry our lunch in a suit case when we go picnicing. -Hop in!” - </p> -<p> -“Well, it is kind of you,” said Rolfs rather sheepishly. “I hope you did -not feel hurt by what I said last night about pigs. I feel rather strongly -about pigs.” - </p> -<p> -“Rolfs,” I said as I gathered up the reins, “I am not a man to nurse hard -feelings, but I must say—” - </p> -<p> -“Look here!” said Rolfs, “I did not get into this buggy to listen to—” - </p> -<p> -“You can get out again,” I said inhospitably, “any time you do not like -straight, honest talk. I mean nothing unneighbourly but when a man accuses—” - </p> -<p> -Without another word Rolfs jumped out, and grabbing his suit case, walked -haughtily away. I could not forbear giving him a little dig. -</p> -<p> -“<i>Bon voyage</i>, Rolfs,” I called. “Don't get pigs on the brain -to-night again!” and Isobel and I laughed as we drove away. -</p> -<p> -When the farmer saw us drive into his yard he seemed surprised, but he was -nice about it. He said he was willing to pay us back half what we had paid -him for Chesterfield Whiting, but we would not hear of it. -</p> -<p> -“No,” I said firmly, “we have had our money's worth of pig!” - </p> -<p> -Then I opened the suit case. -</p> -<p> -It contained, among other things, a suit of pajamas, a tooth brush, four -shirts, six pair of socks, underwear, handkerchiefs, a book entitled “The -Complete Rights of the Citizen,” and twelve collars. But no pig. -</p> -<p> -All the articles were of good quality, and most had Rolf's initials on -them. I must say the suit case contained a nice assortment of -haberdashery. But no pig. Not that I blamed Rolfs for not packing a pig in -his suit case, for he was going to Chicago where there are stock yards -full of pigs, if he should happen to want one. And a suit case is no place -for a pig, anyway. Imagine the feelings of a man in a sleeping car when he -has buckled the curtains of his berth around him, and has partly undressed -behind them. And then imagine him reaching down and opening his suit case, -expecting to find a suit of pajamas, and finding, instead, a pig. Imagine -him when the pig—a Chesterfield Whiting pig—springs lightly -forth and gives voice to his homesickness! -</p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="linkimage-0009" id="linkimage-0009"> </a> -</p> -<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> -<img src="images/185.png" alt="185" width="100%" /><br /> -</div> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> </a> -</p> -<div style="height: 4em;"> -<br /><br /><br /><br /> -</div> -<h2> -IX. THE ROYAL GAME OR SEVERAL DAYS AFTER THE PIG EPISODE -</h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span> refused to start for Port Lafayette in Millington's automobile, although -he used to lean over the fence and beg me almost tearfully, but one fine -morning he came over, and he looked so haggard and careworn that I took -pity on him. -</p> -<p> -“John,” he said, as he led me to his garage, which was on the back of his -lot, “I am sure this automobile of mine is bewitched. I cannot think of -anything else that would make it behave as an automobile in good health -should, and I give you my word of honour that it is acting in perfect -rhythm, never slipping a cog nor missing fire. Of course, with the machine -behaving in that unaccountable manner, I would not dare to start for Port -Lafayette, but I want to run you around to the Country Club. You ought to -be in our Country Club, and I want you to see it, and I want you to tell -me what you think about this automobile of mine. I can't understand it!” - </p> -<p> -I have often noticed three things: I have noticed that a boy is never -really happy until he owns a dog; I have noticed that a flat-dweller is -never content until he owns a phonograph; but above all I have noticed -that the commuter—the man that lives in the sweet-scented, -tree-embowered suburbs—is restless and uneasy until he joins the -Country Club. So I accepted Millington's invitation. -</p> -<p> -We ran out of his yard and half a block up the street, Millington -listening carefully all the while, and we could not hear a sound of -distress in any part of the automobile. Millington stopped the car and got -out. -</p> -<p> -“I am going to walk to the Club,” he said. “I won't trust myself in that -car. As for you, as it was entirely for your sake I proposed this little -run to the Club, I am going to put the machine in your charge, and you are -to run it around the block until it resumes its normal bad condition. From -what I know of you and the remarks you have made while I have tried to -repair the engine, I believe you will soon have it making all sorts of -noises, and,” he added, “perhaps it will be making a noise it never made -before.” - </p> -<p> -Then he showed me how to start, and what to touch if a tree or telephone -post got in my way, and then he went on to the Country Club. -</p> -<p> -I was much touched by this evidence of Millington's faith in my ability to -bring out the bad points of his automobile, and as soon as he disappeared -I set to work, and I had hardly gone twice around the block before I had -it knocking more loudly than ever I had heard it knock. But I was resolved -to show Millington that his trust was not misplaced, and I ran the nose of -the machine into a tree, threw on the high speed suddenly until I heard a -grinding noise that told me the gears were stripped. Then I left the car -there and walked on to the Country Club. -</p> -<p> -A Country Club is an institution conducted for the purpose of securing as -many new members as possible, in order that their initiation fees may pay -for the upkeep of the golf green. Aside from this, the object of the club -is to enable the men that mow the grass to make an honest living by -selling the golf balls they find while mowing the grass. -</p> -<p> -The Membership Committee, on which Millington served, is a small body of -men whose duty it is to learn, as soon as possible, who that new man is -that moved into Billing's house, and to get twenty dollars in initiation -fees from him, before he has spent all his money for mosquito screens. -</p> -<p> -When Millington said to me, in the way members of Country Clubs have, “<i>You</i> -ought to be in our Country Club,” I was tickled. I did not know then that -Millington was on the membership committee, and his willingness to admit -me to fellowship seemed to show that I had been promptly recognized as a -desirable citizen of Westcote; a man worth knowing; one of the inner -circle of desirables. What more fully convinced me was the eagerness of -Mr. Rolfs. -</p> -<p> -“We <i>must</i> have you in,” said Rolfs. “I have been speaking to several -of the members about you, and they are all enthusiastic about taking you -in. Of course, our green is a little ragged just now, but when we get your -mon—when—of course, the green is a little ragged just now, but -we expect to have it trimmed soon, very soon.” - </p> -<p> -Isobel was delighted when I told her I contemplated joining the Country -Club. She said it would do me all the good in the world to play a game of -golf now and then, and when I mentioned that I thought of taking family -membership, which would admit her to all the club privileges, she was more -than pleased. So were Mr. Rolfs and Mr. Millington. I forget how many more -dollars a family membership cost. They shook hands with me warmly, and -Millington said something to Rolfs about their now being able to dump -another load or two of sand on the bunker at the sixth hole. They also -said the ladies would be delighted. Many, they said, had asked them why -Isobel had not joined. -</p> -<p> -Then they mentioned earnestly that the initiation fee and the first year's -dues were payable immediately. They even offered to send in my check for -the amount with my membership application. -</p> -<p> -I had never played golf, but Millington said he would lend me an excellent -book on the game, written by one of the great players, and Rolfs offered -to pick me out a set of clubs. He was enthusiastic when we went to the -shop where clubs were sold, and I must say he did not allow the clerk to -foist off on me any old-fashioned, shopworn clubs. He said with pride, as -we left the shop, that, so far as he knew, every club I had secured was -absolutely new in model, and that not one club in the lot was of a kind -ever seen on the Westcote course before. Some he said, he was sure had -never been seen on any course anywhere. -</p> -<p> -He said my putter would create great excitement when it appeared on the -course. I must give him credit for being right. The putter was, perhaps, -too much like a brass sledge-hammer to be graceful, and I found later that -it worked much better as a croquet mallet than as a tool for putting a -golf ball into a hole, but it was fine advertisement for a new member. -Members who might never have noticed me at all began to speak of me -immediately. They referred to me as “that fellow that Rolfs got to buy the -idiotic putter.” - </p> -<p> -The golf course at our Westcote Country Club is one of the best I have -ever seen. It is almost free from those irregularities of ground that make -so many golf courses fretful. In selecting the ground the Committee had in -mind, I think, a billiard table, but as it was impossible to secure a -sufficiently large plot of ground as level as that near Westcote, they -secured the most level they could and then went over it with a steam -grader. The envious members of the Oakland Club speak of it as the -Westcote Croquet Grounds. -</p> -<p> -The first day I appeared at the club I saw that golf was indeed a -difficult game, particularly after Mr. Millington had explained how it was -worked. He began by remarking that, of course, I could not expect to do -much with “that bunch of crazy scrap iron”—that being the manner in -which he referred to the up-to-date clubs Rolfs had selected for me—and -that no man who knew anything about golf ever used the red-white-and-pink -polka-dot balls, which were the kind Rolfs had advised me to buy. Then he -looked through my clubs scornfully and selected my putter. -</p> -<p> -“Usually,” he said ironically, “we begin with a driver, and drive the ball -as far as we can from this place, which is called the driving green, but I -think this tool, in your hands, will do as well as anything else in your -collection of kitchen cutlery. What do you call this tool, anyway?” - </p> -<p> -I looked at the label on the handle and read it. I told Millington it was -a putter, but he would not believe me. I showed him the label, which said -quite plainly “putter,” but he was still skeptical. He did not deny -positively that it was a putter; he merely said, “Well, if this instrument -of torture is a putter, I'll eat it.” - </p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="linkimage-0010" id="linkimage-0010"> </a> -</p> -<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> -<img src="images/201.png" alt="201" width="100%" /><br /> -</div> -<p> -Mr. Millington then made a little mound of sand which he took from the -green sandbox, and set one of my golf balls on top of the mound. This, I -soon learned, is called “teeing” the ball. -</p> -<p> -“Now,” said Mr. Millington, “I will explain the game. When the ball is -teed as you see it here, you take the club and hit the ball so it will -travel low and straight through the air as far as possible toward that red -flag you see yonder. The ball will alight on the fair green. You follow -it, and hit it again, and it should then alight fairly and squarely on the -putting-green. You then follow it, take the pole that bears the flag out -of the hole you will find there, and gently knock your ball into the hole. -That is all there is to the game.” - </p> -<p> -“But what shall I do,” I asked, “if my first knock at the ball carries it -beyond the flag?” - </p> -<p> -Mr. Millington glanced at the patent putter I held in my hand, and sighed. -</p> -<p> -“Excuse me,” he said, “but the rules of the game permit one to grasp the -club with both hands.” - </p> -<p> -“I guess,” I said airily, “until I get the swing of it I will grasp the -club with one hand. I only use one hand in playing croquet.” - </p> -<p> -“In that case,” said Mr. Millington, “if you knock the ball past the flag -I will eat the flag. I will also eat the ball. Also the thing you call a -putter. If you knock the ball half way to the flag, I will eat all the -grass on this golf course.” - </p> -<p> -“Be careful, Millington,” I warned him. “You may have to eat that grass. -Now, stand back and let me have a fair whack at the ball.” - </p> -<p> -With that I swung the putter around my head two or three times, to gather -the necessary impetus, and then hit the ball a terrible whack. I put my -full strength into the blow, for I wanted to show Millington that I had -the making of a golfer in me; but when my putter ceased revolving around -me Millington seemed unimpressed. I put my hand above my eyes and gazed -into the far distance, hoping to catch sight of the ball when it alighted. -But I did not see it. -</p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="linkimage-0011" id="linkimage-0011"> </a> -</p> -<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> -<img src="images/205.png" alt="205" width="100%" /><br /> -</div> -<p> -“Millington,” I said, “did you see where that ball went?” - </p> -<p> -“I did,” he said, turning to the left. “It went over there, into that tall -grass. It is a lost ball. Every ball that goes into that tall grass is -gone forever. I have never known any one to recover a ball that fell in -that tall grass.” - </p> -<p> -Then he stepped proudly to the sand-box and made another tee. -</p> -<p> -“Hand me a ball,” he said, “and I will show you the proper way to hit it.” - </p> -<p> -I gave him a ball and he placed it carefully on the tee. Then he grasped -his driver in both hands, snuggled the head of it up to the ball lovingly, -drew back the club and struck the ball. I was not quick enough to see the -ball go, but Millington was. -</p> -<p> -“Fine!” he exclaimed. “I sliced it a little, but I must have got good -distance. I must have driven that ball two hundred yards.” - </p> -<p> -“But where did it go?” I asked. -</p> -<p> -“Well,” said Millington, “I did slice it a little. It went off there to -the right, into that tall grass. It is a lost ball. I have never known any -one to recover a ball that fell in that tall grass. But let me have -another ball and I will show you—” - </p> -<p> -I told Millington I guessed I would lose a couple of balls myself while I -had a few left, if it was not against the rules. He said no, a player -could lose as many as he wished; in fact many players lost more than they -wished. -</p> -<p> -I found this to be so. We played around the nine holes and I made a score -of 114, and Millington was delighted. He said it was a splendid score to -turn in to the handicapping committee, and that he wished he could make a -large, safe score like that. He said no one in the club had ever made more -than 110 and that the average was about 45. Then he said I need not lose -hope, for at any rate I had not lost a ball at every stroke. He said he -had imagined when he saw me play that I would lose a ball at every stroke, -for my style of playing—my “form” he called it—was the sort -that ought to lose me one ball for every stroke. -</p> -<p> -When I reached home I found Isobel awaiting me, and, without thinking, I -blurted out that I had lost thirty-eight golf balls. Her mouth hardened. -</p> -<p> -“John,” she said, “I have been talking with Mrs. Rolfs and Mrs. Millington -about this game of golf, and what they say has given me an entirely -different opinion of it. When I advised you to take it up I had no idea it -was a gambling game, but they both tell me the matches are often played -for a stake of balls. Mrs. Rolfs says her husband has accumulated eighty -balls in this way, and Mrs. Millington says her husband has laid up a -store of over fifty. And now, when you come home and tell me you have -lost, in one afternoon, thirty-eight golf balls, at a cost of fifty cents -each, I feel that golf is a wicked, sinful game. I do not want to seem -severe, but I do not approve of gambling, and if you continue to lose so -many golf balls you will have to give up the game.” - </p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> </a> -</p> -<div style="height: 4em;"> -<br /><br /><br /><br /> -</div> -<h2> -X. ADVANCED GOLF -</h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HAT evening Millington dropped over to chat for a few minutes, and he was -in good spirits. He told me he had found the automobile where I had left -it with its nose against the tree, and that it had been necessary to hire -a team to pull it home. Isobel said she would never forget the pleased -expression on Millington's face as he saw the helpless machine being towed -into his yard, and between what both of them said I felt rightly proud at -having lifted such a load from his mind. -</p> -<p> -“Now,” said Millington cheerfully, “we can all start for Port Lafayette in -the morning. I will get up at four to-morrow morning and tinker at the -motor, and by nine, or ten at the latest, we will be ready to start.” - </p> -<p> -At ten the next morning, therefore, Isobel and I went over to Millington's -garage, but our first glimpse of him told us all was not well. He was -sitting on the garage step with his head buried in his arms, while his -wife was sitting beside him, vainly endeavouring to console him. For -awhile he made no response to my queries, and then he only raised his -mournful face and pointed at the automobile. He was too overcome for -words, and his wife had to give us the awful facts. -</p> -<p> -“This morning at four,” she said, “Edward came out and prepared to do what -he could to repair the motor you had so kindly put to the bad. He was then -his usual, cheerful self. He leaped lightly into the chauffeur's seat, -touched the starting lever, and, to his utter distress, the automobile -moved smoothly out of the garage and down the driveway, without a single -misplaced throb or sign of disorder. There was nothing the matter with the -automobile at all. Not a thing to repair. It was as if it had just come -from the factory. Of course he immediately gave up all idea of the little -run to Port Lafayette. Now, there is only one thing to be done. You must -take the machine and run it around the block until it is in a fit -condition to be repaired. I am afraid you did not do a good job -yesterday.” - </p> -<p> -Although I felt rather hurt by the last words, I was not a man to desert -Millington in his need, and without a word I jumped into the automobile -and started. That morning I put in some hard work. It seemed that the -automobile had repaired itself so well that nothing would ever be the -matter with it again, but by persistent efforts and by doing everything an -amateur could possibly do to ruin an automobile, I succeeded in developing -its weak spots. Not until noon was I satisfied, but when the horses at -last pulled the automobile into Millington's garage I felt I had done my -duty. I had mashed the hood and cracked a cylinder, dished the left front -wheel and absolutely ruined all the battery connections. I would have -defied any man to make that automobile run one inch. It had been hard -work, but I was amply repaid when Millington threw his arms around me and -wept for joy on my shoulder. He was not usually a demonstrative man. -</p> -<p> -“Next week, or the week after, John,” he said cheerfully, as he took off -his coat, “I may have the machine patched up a little, and we will take -that little run out to Port Lafayette. I feel that the trip has been -delayed too long already, and I shall get to work at once.” - </p> -<p> -“If you wish,” I said, “I will lend you Mr. Prawley to hold things while -you work on them.” - </p> -<p> -“Prawley?” said Millington. “Prawley? That man of yours? No, thank you, -John. That man Prawley is so fearful of automobiles that he trembles at -the sight of a pair of goggles. He would die of fear if we forced him into -this garage.” - </p> -<p> -I left Millington whistling over his work, and that afternoon I took my -putter and went to the golf grounds alone, for I had spent half the night -reading the golf book Mr. Rolfs had lent me, and I saw I had not gone at -the game in the right way. I knew now that I should have held my club with -my right hand more to the right—or to the left—and my right -foot nearer the ball—or not so near it—and with the head of my -club heeled up more—or not so much. The directions given by the book -were very explicit. They said a player must invariably lay his thumb along -the shaft of the club, unless he wrapped it around the shaft, or let it -stick up like a sore toe, or cut it off and got along without it, or did -something else with it. The book seemed to imply that the proper way for a -beginner to learn golf was to lock himself in a dark closet and indulge in -silent meditation until he became an expert player, but the closets in my -house were so narrow and shallow I felt I could not meditate broadly in -them. So I went to the Country Club. -</p> -<p> -I met young Weldorf there, and as soon as he saw me he immediately -proposed a round. He said he had wanted to play a round with me ever since -he had heard of my clubs. He said he hoped I would not mind his dog being -along, for the dog took a lively interest in the game of golf. -</p> -<p> -So I told Weldorf I loved dogs and that I thought a dog or two scattered -around the links added greatly to the picturesqueness of the game. -Weldorf's dog was a rather thin dog, of the white terrier kind, with black -spots, and Weldorf explained that the reason there were bare, -flesh-coloured spots on the dog was because he was just recovering from an -attack of mange. -</p> -<p> -Weldorf drove first, and a beautiful drive it was, and with a gay bark the -dog darted after the ball, but Weldorf spoke to him sternly, and he -stopped short, although he still gazed after the ball yearningly. Then I -drove. I exerted the whole of my enormous strength in that drive, and I -think I surprised Weldorf. I know I surprised the dog. If I had been that -dog, I, too, would have been surprised. There stood the dog, looking at -Weldorf's ball, wagging his tail and thinking of nothing, and here came my -ball with terrific speed. Suddenly the ball hit the dog on the hip with a -splashy sort of smack, and immediately the dog was impelled forward and -upward, giving voice, as we dog-fanciers say. He gave voice three times -while in the air, and when he alighted he put his tail between his legs -and dashed madly away. -</p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="linkimage-0012" id="linkimage-0012"> </a> -</p> -<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> -<img src="images/219.png" alt="219" width="100%" /><br /> -</div> -<p> -We were not able to retrieve the dog until we reached the third teeing -ground, and then I apologized to him. He did not accept my apology. He -looked upon my most friendly advances with unjust suspicion. He seemed to -have no faith in my game, and kept well to the rear of me, but when -Weldorf addressed him in a few well-chosen words he unlooped his tail and -wagged it in a halfhearted sort of way. I decided to ignore the dog. I -raised the hinged lid of the sandbox and took out a large handful of sand -to form my tee, and letting the lid fall took a step forward. -</p> -<p> -Immediately the dog gave voice! Weldorf had to raise the lid of the -sand-box before the dog was able to get his tail out, but as soon as he -had reassumed full control of his tail he placed it firmly between his -legs and dashed madly away. It is nonsense to have a golf dog with a long -tail. -</p> -<p> -By the time we reached the sixth putting-green the dog had begun to get -lonely, and assumed a cheerful demeanour. He returned to us with -ingratiating poses, mainly sliding along the ground on his stomach as he -approached, and I was glad to see him happy again, for I love dogs and I -like to have them happy. He stood afar off, however, until he saw our -balls on the putting-green. He knew that golfers do not “putt” as -strenuously as they “drive.” Then he came nearer. I took the flag-pole -from the hole and let it fall gracefully to the ground. Without an instant -of hesitation the dog gave voice! It was a long flag-pole, made of a plump -bamboo fish-rod, and when it fell it seemed to strike directly on the -eighth dorsal vertebra of the dog, at a spot where he was not recovering -very well from the mange. -</p> -<p> -Weldorf said he had no doubt the dog would find his way home, and we stood -and listened until the voice the dog was giving died away in the far -distance, and then we holed out. It is nonsense for a dog to have dorsal -vertebrae. -</p> -<p> -When we reached the seventh hole I found that the grounds committee was -already using my initiation fee, for the grass mowers were at work there, -and a man with a rake immediately stepped up to me, and said in the most -friendly manner that he would be willing to part with some golf balls for -money, if I would say nothing about it to the Board of Governors. He had -sixteen, nine of which I recognized as some of those I had lost the day -before, and he very generously offered to let me have the lot at fifteen -cents each. I purchased them eagerly, and the man who was driving the -mower at once descended and offered me twelve more at the same price. -Between there and the ninth hole numerous caddies appeared from behind -trees and bunkers and offered me balls at ridiculously low prices, and I, -quite naturally, took advantage of their offers. -</p> -<p> -When I reached home Isobel asked me how I was progressing with my game. -“Well,” I said, “I return with forty-two more golf balls than I had when I -went out.” - </p> -<p> -Instantly her face brightened. She congratulated me warmly and said she -was sure Mrs. Rolfs and Mrs. Millington had overstated the evils of the -game. She said she thought she could see an improvement in my health -already. She advised me to keep at the game until my health was beyond -compare. -</p> -<p> -I now know that the book Mr. Rolfs lent me is mere piffle and that, for a -man who takes his golf in the right way, a broom or a hairpin is as good -as any other tool. I enjoy the game immensely, and find it great sport. -Often I come home with fifty golf balls, and my low record is eighteen—but -that was a legal holiday and the grass mowers were on vacation. I have so -many golf balls in the house already that Isobel talks of having an -addition built over the kitchen for storage purposes. As my game has -improved I have acquired such dexterity that I can buy balls from the -caddies at the rate of four for twenty-five cents. If I practise regularly -I believe I shall in time reach a point where I can buy balls for five -cents each. By holes, my best score is thirty-eight balls, made at the -eighth hole on July 6th, from the red-headed caddy and the fat mowing man. -My low score is one ball, made August 16th, at the first hole. I never -make a large score there, as it is near the club house and the caddies are -afraid of the Board of Governors. -</p> -<p> -When golf is taken rightly it arouses the instincts of the chase in a man, -and I now feel the same joy in running down a caddy and bargaining for -found balls that others feel in hunting wild animals. Golf, taken thus, is -a splendid game. -</p> -<p> -And I have found that if I use my putter only, and knock the ball but a -few yards each stroke, there is no need of losing a ball from one end of -the year to the other. But even then one must remember the cardinal rule -of all golfers—“Keep the eye on the ball.” - </p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> </a> -</p> -<div style="height: 4em;"> -<br /><br /><br /><br /> -</div> -<h2> -XI. MY DOMESTICATED AUTOMOBILE -</h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span> HAVE said that I left Millington happily working over his automobile -when I went to the Country Club that afternoon. When I returned he was -still working away, and so well had I wrecked his car that all his -repairing seemed to have made not the slightest impression on it. -</p> -<p> -“John,” he said brightly, “you certainly did a good job. It will be months -before I have this car in any shape at all, I am sure. It is going to take -all my spare time, too. I mean to set my alarm clock for three, and get up -at that time every morning.” - </p> -<p> -It is always a pleasure for me to see another man happy, and at half-past -two the next morning I was waiting for Millington at his garage door. He -came out of his house promptly at three, and joked merrily as he unlocked -the garage door, but the moment he threw open the door his face fell. And -well it might! The dished wheel had been trued, the crushed hood had been -straightened and painted, a new cylinder had replaced the cracked one, and -when Millington tried the engine it ran without a sound except that of a -perfectly working piece of well-adjusted machinery. Millington got out of -the car and stood staring at the motor, and suddenly, with a low cry of -anguish, he fell over backward as stiff as a log. Mrs. Millington and I -managed to carry him to bed, and then I returned to the garage. I was not -going to desert Millington in his adversity. -</p> -<p> -After the doctor had visited the house, Mrs. Millington came out and told -me that her husband was still in a comatose state, due to brain-shock, but -that he kept repeating “Sell it! Sell it!” over and over, and she was sure -he must mean the car. She said that while she would hate to part with the -car, and give up all the pleasure of starting for Port Lafayette, she -feared for her husband's reason if he continued to receive such shocks, -and she was willing to sacrifice the car at a very low price, if I -insisted. She said I had not, like Millington, become habituated to -hearing a knocking in the engine, so' the lack of it would not bother me, -and that owning a car that repaired itself over night was what most -automobile owners would call a golden opportunity. -</p> -<p> -I suppose if I had come home and said to Isobel: “My dear, I have bought -an Asiatic hyena,” she would have been less shocked and surprised than she -was when I entered the house and said: “Well, my dear, I have bought an -automobile.” - </p> -<p> -Isobel is of a rather nervous disposition, and driving behind Bob, our -horse, had tended to eliminate any latent speed mania she may have ever -had, for Bob is not a rapid horse. Of course, Isobel drove the horse at a -trot occasionally, but that was when she wanted to go slower than a walk, -for Bob was what may be called an upright trotter—one of those -horses that trot like a grasshopper: the harder they trot the higher they -rise in the air, and the less ground they cover. When Bob was in fine -fettle, as we horsemen say, he could trot for hours with a perpendicular -motion, like a sewing machine needle, and remain in one identical spot the -whole time. He could trot tied to a post. Sometimes when he was feeling -his oats he could trot backward. -</p> -<p> -I suppose that when I mentioned automobile Isobel had a vision of a -bright-red car about twenty-five feet long, with a tonnage like an ocean -steamer, and a speed of one hundred and ten miles an hour—one of the -machines that flash by with a wail of agony and kill a couple of men just -around the next corner. But Millington's automobile was not that kind. It -was a tried and tested affair. It had been in a Christian family for five -years, and was well broken. Nor was it a long automobile; it was one of -the shortest automobiles I have ever seen; indeed, I do not think I ever -saw such a short automobile. “Short and high” seemed to have been the -maker's motto, and he had lived up to it. He couldn't have made the -automobile any shorter without having cogs on the tires, so they could -overlap. If the automobile had been much shorter the rear wheels would -have been in front of the fore wheels. But what it lacked in length it -made up in altitude. It averaged pretty well, multiplying the height by -the length. It was the type known in the profession as the “camel type.” - When in action it had a motion somewhat like a camel, too, but more like a -small boat on a wintry, wind-tossed sea. But, ah! the engine! There was a -noble heart in that weak body! When the engine was in average knocking -condition, one knew when it started. In two minutes after the engine -started the driver was on the ground; if he did not become dizzy, sitting -at such a height, and fall off, the engine shook him off. -</p> -<p> -But, if Isobel did not take kindly to the idea of owning Millington's -automobile, Rolfs seemed glad I was going to buy it. -</p> -<p> -“You won't be everlastingly asking me to take a little run up to Port -Lafayette,” he said. “For years before you moved out here Millington -bothered the life out of me, and I cannot bear riding in automobiles. I -hate them worse than that hired man of yours does. How does he like the -idea?” - </p> -<p> -I told him, rather haughtily, that I did not usually consult Mr. Prawley -when I bought automobiles. Then Rolfs said he thought, usually, it was -just as well for an ignorant man to consult some one, but that he knew -Millington's automobile was a good one. He said he knew the man that had -owned the machine ten or twelve years before Millington bought it. He said -that every one knew that machines of that make that were made in 1895 were -extremely durable. He said he remembered about this one particularly, -because it was the period when milk shakes were the popular drink, and his -friend used to make his own. He said his friend would put the ingredients -in a bottle, and tie the bottle to the automobile seat, and then start the -engine for a minute or two, and the milk would be completely shaken. So -would his friend. -</p> -<p> -Rolfs asked me to let him know when I brought the automobile over from -Millington's. I had no difficulty in doing so. When I ran that automobile -the only difficulty was in concealing the fact that it was arriving -anywhere and in getting it to arrive. Often it preferred not to arrive at -all, but when it did arrive, it gave every one notice. Isobel never had to -wonder whether I was arriving in my machine, or whether it was some -visitor in another machine. Under my regime my machine had a sweet, -purring sound like a road-roller loaded with scrap iron crossing a -cobblestone bridge. When the engine was going and the car was not, it -sounded like giant fire-crackers exploding under a dish pan. -</p> -<p> -The very day I purchased the car and brought it into my yard Mr. Prawley -came to me and told me he had a very important communication to make. He -said his poor old mother was sick, and he would like a month's vacation. -He added that he imagined the automobile would last about twenty-nine -days. As he said this his lean, villainous face wore a look of fear, and -when I told him he could have the vacation, he departed, walking backward, -keeping one eye on the automobile all the while. -</p> -<p> -But the automobile did not behave in the bewitched manner for me that it -had for Millington. It did not repair itself over night at all. If -anything it deteriorated. -</p> -<p> -Oddly enough, now that the automobile was quite tame, Isobel, who usually -has perfect confidence in me, declined to ride in it. But frequently we -took rides together, driving side by side, she in her buggy behind Bob, -and I in my automobile, and, occasionally, when the road was rough and the -engine working well, I would drop in on her unexpectedly. But not always. -Sometimes I fell off on the other side. -</p> -<p> -I found these little trips very pleasant and exceedingly good for a torpid -liver—if I had had one—and I enjoyed having Isobel with me, -especially when we came to bits of sandy road where the rear wheels of my -automobile would revolve uselessly, as if for the mere pleasure of -revolving. -</p> -<p> -Then I would unhitch Bob from the buggy and hitch him to the automobile, -and he would tow me over the sandy stretch, aided by the engine. It was a -pretty picture to see this helpfulness, one to the other, especially when -my engine was palpitating in its wild, vibratory manner, and Bob was -trotting at full speed, while I fell out of the automobile, first on one -side and then on the other. -</p> -<p> -Isobel enjoyed these little moments exceedingly and often I had to go back -to her, after I had passed the sandy spot, and pat her on the back until -she could get her breath again. She had to admit that she had never -imagined she could get so much pleasure out of an automobile. But it was -that kind of an automobile—any one could get more pleasure out of it -than in it. -</p> -<p> -I myself found that after the first novelty wore off automobiling became a -bore. As a method of securing pleasure the cost per gallon to each unit of -joy was too high, in that machine. Riding in my machine was not what is -called “joy riding.” It was more like a malady. -</p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="linkimage-0013" id="linkimage-0013"> </a> -</p> -<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> -<img src="images/237.png" alt="237" width="100%" /><br /> -</div> -<p> -Of course we never attempted a long tour, like that to Port Lafayette, -which is eleven miles from Westcote, and it was about the time my tire -troubles began that I thought of domesticating my automobile. I remember -with what pride I discovered my first puncture. Every automobile owner of -my acquaintance had tire troubles, and I had never had any, and I felt -slighted. Sometimes I felt tempted to take an awl and puncture a tire -myself, so I, too, could talk about my tire troubles, but I had a feeling -that that would be unprofessional. I had never heard of any real sporty -automobilist punching holes in his tires with awls; in fact they seemed to -consider there was no particular pleasure in punctured tires. That was the -way they talked—as if a puncture was a misfortune—but I knew -better. I could hear the undercurrent of pride in their voices as they -announced: “Well, I had three punctures and two blow-outs yesterday. I was -running along slowly, about fifty-five miles an hour, between Oyster Bay -and Huntington, when—” And then the next man would pipe up and say: -“Yes? Well, I beat that. I was speeding a little—not much, but about -sixty miles an hour—on the Jericho Turnpike last night, and all four -tires—” And through it all I had to sit silent. I longed to be able -to say: “I was speeding along yesterday at about half a mile an hour, the -machine going better than usual, when suddenly I jumped out and stuck my -penknife into the forward, left-hand tire—” I had never had a -puncture. I was not in their class. -</p> -<p> -But my turn came. I was speeding a little—about one city block every -five minutes—on Thirteenth Street, when my sparker stopped sparking. -When your engine misses fire there are six hundred and forty-two things -that may be the matter, and after you have tested the six hundred and -forty-two, it may be an entirely new six hundred and forty-third trouble. -I have known a man to try the full six hundred and forty-two remedies -unavailingly, and then sigh and wipe his goggles, and the engine began -working beautifully. And it was only by chance—pure chance—that -he happened to wipe his goggles. Probably he had not wiped them for years. -But after that the first thing he did when his engine did not fire was to -wipe them. And never, never again did it have the least effect on the -engine. That is one of the peculiar things about an automobile. And there -are nine hundred and ninety-nine other peculiar things, each of which is -more peculiar than all the rest. -</p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="linkimage-0014" id="linkimage-0014"> </a> -</p> -<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> -<img src="images/243.png" alt="243" width="100%" /><br /> -</div> -<p> -I had just taken my automobile apart to discover why the engine did not -work, and the various pieces of its anatomy were scattered up and down the -street for a block or more, and I was hunting up another piece to take -out, when I noticed that one of my tires was flat. I had a puncture! I -suppose I would have thrilled with joy at any other time, but just after a -man has dissected his automobile is no time for him to thrill. He has -other things to amuse him. I have even known a man who had just discovered -that his last battery had gone dead to swear a little when he discovered -that two tires had also gone flat. -</p> -<p> -It was when I was pumping up that new inner tube that I decided to -domesticate my automobile. It seemed to be a shame to take such a delicate -piece of machinery out on the rough, unfeeling road, and I remembered that -Rolfs had told me of a Philadelphia friend of his who had half -domesticated his automobile. Rolfs said that once, when he was foolish, he -had ridden half an hour, out to his friend's farm, and there the -automobile was jacked up and a belt attached to one of the rear wheels, -and in less than five minutes the car was doing duty as a piece of farm -machinery, running a feed cutter. Rolfs said it was great. He said it was -the only time he ever felt satisfied that an automobile was getting what -it deserved. He said that all the men had to do was to keep the -fodder-cutter fed with fodder, and that it kept two farm hands busy. He -said I ought to get some fodder and cut it that way and stop being an -obstruction in the public highways. He suggested that I get some wood and -saw wood with the automobile, or get some apples and make cider. He -suggested a thousand things I could do with the automobile, and not one of -them was riding in it. -</p> -<p> -I had tried riding in it myself, and after owning it a week or two I -decided it was just the kind of automobile that was meant to do general -household work. So I domesticated it. -</p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> </a> -</p> -<div style="height: 4em;"> -<br /><br /><br /><br /> -</div> -<h2> -XII. MR. PRAWLEY RETURNS -</h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">M</span>ARY was one of the most faithful servants a family ever had. Her -faithfulness deserves this monument. She was a Pole and she could not -pronounce her own name. She tried to pronounce it the first day she came -to us, but along toward the sixth or seventh syllable she became confused -and had to give it up. She said it was Schneider in English. Perhaps the -reason she remained with us so long was because she had brought her Polish -name with her, and it was too much trouble to move it from place to place. -When she once got in a place, she liked to stay there. But “Schneider” was -about the only English word she knew, and this made it a little difficult -to explain to her that I had domesticated the automobile and would allow -her to use it on wash day. I had to make a picture of it, and even then -she seemed rather doubtful about it. -</p> -<p> -As a matter of fact it was all very simple, but Mary Schneider was stupid. -We already had the washing machine, and we had the automobile, and it was -only necessary to connect the rear wheel of the automobile with the drive -wheel of the washing machine by means of a belt, jack up the rear axle of -the automobile, and start the engine. I hoped in time to go further than -this and hitch up the coffee mill, the carpet-sweeper, the ice-cream -freezer, and all our other household machinery, and then Mary Schneider -would have a very easy time of it. She could have sat in the automobile -with her hands on the speed levers and the work would have done itself. -But Mary would not sit in the automobile. She tried to explain that she -had seen me sit in it and that the Schneiders, as a family, had very -brittle bones and could not afford to fall out of automobiles of such -height, but I could not understand what she was saying. I only understood -that she said she would give notice immediately if she had to sit in that -automobile while the palpitator was jiggering. -</p> -<p> -I had a feeling that all this was mere diffidence on her part, and that -when she once saw how easy it all was she would be delighted with it. So I -jacked up the rear axle of the car in my backyard, and attached the -clothesline as a belt to the rear wheel and to the drive wheel of the -washing machine. I remained at home one Monday morning especially to do -this, and Isobel thought it was very kind of me. She said she was sure -Mary could do it, and would be glad to, after she had once seen how it was -done. -</p> -<p> -Mary put the soap in the washing machine, and the hot water, and the -clothes, and I started the automobile engine. It was all I had hoped. -Never, never had I seen clothes washed so rapidly. Luckily I had thought -to nail the legs of the washing machine to the floor of the back porch. -This steadied the washing machine and kept it from jumping more than it -did. Of course, some vibration was conveyed along the rope belt from the -automobile, and Mary had to hasten to and fro bringing more hot water to -refill the washing machine. It was like a storm at sea, or a geyser, or a -large hot fountain. When we had the automobile going at full speed the -water hardly entered the washing machine before it dashed madly out again. -</p> -<p> -Isobel had to help by putting more clothes in the washing machine. It used -up clothes as rapidly as Rolf's friend's fodder-cutter used up fodder, but -I think it cut the clothes into smaller pieces. We discovered this when we -hunted up the clothes later. We did not notice it at the time. All was -excitement. -</p> -<p> -It was a proud moment for me. The engine was running as well as it ever -did, the dasher of the washing machine was dashing to and fro with hot -water, and Mrs. Rolfs and Mrs. Millington were cheering us on. I began to -believe we would break all records for clothes washing if Mary and Isobel -could only keep water and clothes in the washing machine. Just then I fell -out of the automobile. -</p> -<p> -Possibly the sudden removal of my weight had an effect. It may have been -that my head in striking one of the rear wheels moved the axle. Of this I -can never be sure. The rear axle unjacked itself, and as the rear wheels -touched the ground the automobile darted away. I was just able to touch -the washing machine as it hurried by, but it did not wait for me to secure -a firm hold, and it went on its way. But Mary was faithful to the last. -She—ignorant though she was—knew that the weekly wash should -not dash off in this manner. She—although but a Pole, knew her duty -and did it. Mary hung onto the washing machine. Whither the wash went she -was going. And so she did. Rapidly, too. -</p> -<p> -The rear porch was not badly damaged. Only those boards to which the -washing machine had been nailed went with it, but where the automobile -went through the back fence we had to make extensive repairs. But it was -all for the best. If the automobile had not made a hole in the fence Mary -could not have gone through. Of course, she could have gone around by the -gate, but she would have lost time, and she was not losing any time. -Neither was the washing machine. The automobile did not gain an inch on -it, and sometimes when the washing machine made a good jump it overtook -the automobile. So did Mary. -</p> -<p> -I saw then that I had not thoroughly domesticated the automobile. As we -stood and watched the automobile and the washing machine and Mary dashing -rapidly away in the distance, we felt that the automobile was still a -little too wild for household use, but I fully believed the automobile -would be tame enough before it reached home again. A young, strong -automobile may be able to take cross country runs without ill effects, but -an elderly automobile, like the one I bought of Millington, cannot dash -across country towing a washing machine and a Polish servant, whose name -is Schneider in English, without danger to its constitution. I do not -blame the washing machine—it could not let go, it was belted on—but -if Mary had had presence of mind she would have released her grasp when -she found the strain was too much for the automobile. But it is strange -how differently the minds of male and female run. As I watched the -automobile disappear over the edge of the hill I said: -</p> -<p> -“Isobel, I guess that ends that automobile,” But Isobel said: -</p> -<p> -“John, I am afraid we have lost Mary.” And yet that automobile and that -Pole were the last two in the world I should ever have suspected of -running away with each other. She came back later in the day, but she did -not say much. She packed her trunk and took her wages, and remarked a -remark that sounded like the English word Schneider translated into -Polish. The washing machine did not return. -</p> -<p> -When Millington came out to the fence that evening I told him that I was -done with automobiling, and that the automobile was probably mashed to -flinders. He had been looking bad, but he brightened at the words. -</p> -<p> -“John,” he said, “if that automobile is wrecked as badly as it should be -after running wild with a tail of washing machines and -Schneiders-in-English, I'll buy it back. I'll give—I'll give you -five dollars for it.” - </p> -<p> -He must have seen the eagerness in my eyes, for he remarked quickly: -</p> -<p> -“I'll give you two dollars and forty-five cents for it!” - </p> -<p> -“I'll take it!” I said instantly. -</p> -<p> -“It is mine!” said Millington, and he handed over the money. -</p> -<p> -As soon as it was in my pocket I heard a rustling in the currant bushes at -my left, and Mr. Prawley raised his head above them. -</p> -<p> -“Mother's well again,” he said. “I've come back!” - </p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> </a> -</p> -<div style="height: 4em;"> -<br /><br /><br /><br /> -</div> -<h2> -XIII. MILLINGTON'S MOTOR MYSTERY -</h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">M</span>ILLINGTON and I hunted up the automobile the next day, and it was in -worse condition than I had imagined. The only way the car could be got -back to his garage was on a truck, but we got it there, and unloaded it, -and Millington hunted up all his tools and got them ready to use the next -day. It was late by that time, and we locked the garage and went to bed. -</p> -<p> -All night I worried over having taken two dollars and forty-five cents -from Millington for that collection of old metal that had been a -motor-car, and as early as possible the next morning I took the money and -went over to Millington's. I found him just going out to the garage, and -he positively refused to take back the money. He said the car was in just -the condition he wanted it, and that if I hadn't knocked the witchery out -of it no one could. He said he hoped—and just then he opened the -garage door. -</p> -<p> -There stood the automobile, on the very spot where we had left it, but -there was not a scratch on it. Except that it was an ancient model, it -might have been a brand new car. Even the brasswork had been polished, and -at the first glance the tires seemed new, but we found they had only been -carefully repaired and painted drab. -</p> -<p> -Millington stood looking at the automobile a few minutes and then laughed. -He turned to me with a strangely contorted face and said: “Uncle Tom, you -are invited to take a ride with Cleopatra in my air-ship to-night at -midnight.” - </p> -<p> -Millington said this in a very calm voice, but he immediately followed it -by asking me to have a piece of strawberry pie, and instead of pie he -offered me the can of gear grease. I managed to coax him into the house, -and when the doctor arrived he advised absolute rest. He said Millington's -brain was not yet permanently affected, but that another such shock would -be too much for him. He said that for the present we must humour him, and -try to make him believe that the automobile was damaged beyond recovery. -It seemed to have a soothing effect, and to aid his recovery I got into -the car, ran it into the street, aimed it at a stone wall opposite -Millington's window, threw on the high speed, and jumped to one side. One -minute later the machine was afire, and half an hour later little was left -of it but the metal parts, and they were badly warped. -</p> -<p> -Mr. Prawley came out when he saw the fire, and a look of the most fiendish -joy glittered in his eyes. Never have I seen a man show such pleasure over -the destruction of an automobile. His hatred of automobiles seemed to be -endless and bottomless. -</p> -<p> -When I told Millington that his automobile was now in about as bad -condition as man could put it into, he sat up in bed, and the light of -sanity came into his eyes. He walked to the window and looked out at the -car, and became his old cheerful self again. He said that there was no -doubt now that the devils in the car had been exorcised, and that with a -few weeks work he could get it back into such shape that the engine would -be working properly, and we would then, he said take that little run up to -Port Lafayette. He then took a little nourishment, and by night he was -quite himself again. When he had had his dinner I went home and had mine, -and went to bed at once, for I knew Millington would be at work soon after -sun-up. -</p> -<p> -I had hardly got into bed, however, when I began to fear that Millington's -eagerness would get the best of him, and at ten o'clock I went over to his -house. I found him in bed and awake and cheerful, but he said he did not -mean to get up. He said it was against his policy to get up the day before -in order to be up the next day, so I sat by his bed and read chapters from -a dear little work of fiction entitled “Easy Remedies for Ignition -Troubles,” until the clock struck twelve, and then Millington hopped out -of bed and threw on his clothes. -</p> -<p> -The moment we stepped from the back door the same thing struck us both -with surprise. There was a light in the garage! -</p> -<p> -My first thought was that some rascal was in the garage trying to ruin -Millington's automobile, but a second thought assured me this was -impossible. Ruin could be carried no farther than I had carried it. -Bidding Millington be silent, I crept cautiously toward the garage, with -Millington at my heels, and without a sound we peered in at the window. -The sight was one that would have shaken the strongest man. -</p> -<p> -Bending over the motor, with his face made unearthly by the artificial -light that fell upon it obliquely, casting deep shadows, was that villain, -Mr. Prawley! I have never seen anything so devilish as that wretch as he -worked with inhuman agility and haste. His long, claw-like fingers danced -from one part of the machine to another fiendishly, and a hideous grin -distorted his features. He was humming some weird tune, and I noted that -he was ambidextrous, for he was varnishing the hood with one hand while -with the other he was putting in a new spark plug. A tremor of horror -passed over Millington and over me at the same moment. A few whispered -words, a few stealthy steps, and we burst in and seized Mr. Prawley by the -arms. In a moment we had him on the floor of the garage, bound hand and -foot. -</p> -<p> -Millington was for wreaking immediate vengeance on him, but I stood firmly -for a more lawful course, and the next day we handed him over to the -authorities, and his whole miserable story came out. His name was not Mr. -Prawley at all. Neither was it Alonzo Duggs, which was the name he he had -given us when Isobel and I hired him. His name was William Alexander -Vandergribbin. He came of good family, but mania for speeding automobiles -had brought him to ruin, and the third time he was arrested for -over-speeding a sentence of thirty years in the penitentiary had been -pronounced by the judge. The judge, however, had suspended the sentence -provided that William Alexander Vandergribbin never again touched an -automobile. -</p> -<p> -For several years Vandergribbin fought down his appetite. Then he fell. He -changed his name to Flossy Zozo, and secured a job as the death-defying -loop-the-gappist with the big show. For a time the speeding down the -runway in the fake automobile, with the somersault at the bottom of the -run, appeased his cravings, but the rules of the show prohibited him from -tinkering with the fake automobile, which was strictly in charge of the -property man, and Vandergribbin left the show, changed his name to Alonzo -Duggs, and seeking our quiet town, chose work in the house nearest the man -owning the oldest automobile. For weeks he had watched his opportunity—you -know the rest. He is now in Sing Sing. -</p> -<p> -I am sorry to end this story so abruptly, but Millington has just come -over to ask if I would not like to take a little run out to Port -Lafayette. I have always wanted to go to Port Lafayette, which is about -eleven miles from here; so, if you will excuse me, I will go and button -Isobel's matinee gown, and we will be off. -</p> -<h3> -END -</h3> -<div style="height: 6em;"> -<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> -</div> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Adventures Of A Suburbanite, by -Ellis Parker Butler - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ADVENTURES OF A SUBURBANITE *** - -***** This file should be named 44153-h.htm or 44153-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/4/4/1/5/44153/ - -Produced by David Widger - -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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