diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'old/cacod10.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/cacod10.txt | 6950 |
1 files changed, 6950 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/old/cacod10.txt b/old/cacod10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..bda6ec9 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/cacod10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6950 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Cape Cod Stories, by Joseph C. Lincoln +(#11 in our series by Joseph C. Lincoln) + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Cape Cod Stories + +Author: Joseph C. Lincoln + +Release Date: February, 2004 [EBook #5195] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on June 3, 2002] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, CAPE COD STORIES *** + + + + +This eBook was produced by Don Lainson. + + + + +CAPE COD STORIES + +ALSO PUBLISHED UNDER THE TITLE OF "THE OLD HOME HOUSE" + + +by + + +JOSEPH C. LINCOLN + + + + +CONTENTS + + +TWO PAIRS OF SHOES + +THE COUNT AND THE MANAGER + +THE SOUTH SHORE WEATHER BUREAU + +THE DOG STAR + +THE MARE AND THE MOTOR + +THE MARK ON THE DOOR + +THE LOVE OF LOBELIA 'ANKINS + +THE MEANNESS OF ROSY + +THE ANTIQUERS + +HIS NATIVE HEATH + +"JONESY" + + + + +THE "OLD HOME HOUSE" + + + +TWO PAIRS OF SHOES + + +I don't exactly know why Cap'n Jonadab and me went to the post- +office that night; we wa'n't expecting any mail, that's sartin. +I guess likely we done it for the reason the feller that tumbled +overboard went to the bottom--'twas the handiest place TO go. + +Anyway we was there, and I was propping up the stove with my feet +and holding down a chair with the rest of me, when Jonadab heaves +alongside flying distress signals. He had an envelope in his +starboard mitten, and, coming to anchor with a flop in the next +chair, sets shifting the thing from one hand to the other as if it +'twas red hot. + +I watched this performance for a spell, waiting for him to say +something, but he didn't, so I hailed, kind of sarcastic, and says: +"What you doing--playing solitaire? Which hand's ahead?" + +He kind of woke up then, and passes the envelope over to me. + +"Barzilla," he says, "what in time do you s'pose that is?" + +'Twas a queer looking envelope, more'n the average length fore and +aft, but kind of scant in the beam. There was a puddle of red +sealing wax on the back of it with a "D" in the middle, and up in +one corner was a kind of picture thing in colors, with some +printing in a foreign language underneath it. I b'lieve 'twas what +they call a "coat-of-arms," but it looked more like a patchwork +comforter than it did like any coat ever _I_ see. The envelope was +addressed to "Captain Jonadab Wixon, Orham, Mass." + +I took my turn at twisting the thing around, and then I hands it +back to Jonadab. + +"I pass," I says. "Where'd you get it?" + +"'Twas in my box," says he. "Must have come in to-night's mail." + +I didn't know the mail was sorted, but when he says that I got up +and went over and unlocked my box, just to show that I hadn't +forgot how, and I swan to man if there wa'n't another envelope, +just like Jonadab's, except that 'twas addressed to "Barzilla +Wingate." + +"Humph!" says I, coming back to the stove; "you ain't the only one +that's heard from the Prince of Wales. Look here!" + +He was the most surprised man, but one, on the Cape: I was the one. +We couldn't make head nor tail of the business, and set there +comparing the envelopes, and wondering who on earth had sent 'em. +Pretty soon "Ily" Tucker heads over towards our moorings, and says +he: + +"What's troubling the ancient mariners?" he says. + +"Barzilla and me's got a couple of letters," says Cap'n Jonadab; +"and we was wondering who they was from." + +Tucker leaned away down--he's always suffering from a rush of +funniness to the face--and he whispers, awful solemn: "For +heaven's sake, whatever you do, don't open 'em. You might find +out." Then he threw off his main-hatch and "haw-hawed" like a +loon. + +To tell you the truth, we hadn't thought of opening 'em--not yet-- +so that was kind of one on us, as you might say. But Jonadab ain't +so slow but he can catch up with a hearse if the horses stop to +drink, and he comes back quick. + +"Ily," he says, looking troubled, "you ought to sew reef-points on +your mouth. 'Tain't safe to open the whole of it on a windy night +like this. First thing you know you'll carry away the top of your +head." + +Well, we felt consider'ble better after that--having held our own +on the tack, so to speak--and we walked out of the post-office and +up to my room in the Travellers' Rest, where we could be alone. +Then we opened up the envelopes, both at the same time. Inside of +each of 'em was another envelope, slick and smooth as a mack'rel's +back, and inside of THAT was a letter, printed, but looking like +the kind of writing that used to be in the copybook at school. It +said that Ebenezer Dillaway begged the honor of our presence at the +marriage of his daughter, Belle, to Peter Theodosius Brown, at +Dillamead House, Cashmere-on-the-Hudson, February three, nineteen +hundred and so forth. + +We were surprised, of course, and pleased in one way, but in +another we wa'n't real tickled to death. You see, 'twas a good +while sence Jonadab and me had been to a wedding, and we know +there'd be mostly young folks there and a good many big-bugs, we +presumed likely, and 'twas going to cost consider'ble to get +rigged--not to mention the price of passage, and one thing a' +'nother. But Ebenezer had took the trouble to write us, and so we +felt 'twas our duty not to disappoint him, and especially Peter, +who had done so much for us, managing the Old Home House. + +The Old Home House was our summer hotel at Wellmouth Port. How me +and Jonadab come to be in the summer boarding trade is another +story and it's too long to tell now. We never would have been in +it, anyway, I cal'late, if it hadn't been for Peter. He made a +howling success of our first season and likewise helped himself +along by getting engaged to the star boarder, rich old Dillaway's +daughter--Ebenezer Dillaway, of the Consolidated Cash Stores. + +Well, we see 'twas our duty to go, so we went. I had a new Sunday +cutaway and light pants to go with it, so I figgered that I was +pretty well found, but Cap'n Jonadab had to pry himself loose from +considerable money, and every cent hurt as if 'twas nailed on. +Then he had chilblains that winter, and all the way over in the +Fall River boat he was fuming about them chilblains, and adding up +on a piece of paper how much cash he'd spent. + +We struck Cashmere-on-the-Hudson about three o'clock on the +afternoon of the day of the wedding. 'Twas a little country kind +of a town, smaller by a good deal than Orham, and so we cal'lated +that perhaps after all, the affair wouldn't be so everlasting tony. +But when we hove in sight of Dillamead--Ebenezer's place--we +shortened sail and pretty nigh drew out of the race. 'Twas up on a +high bank over the river, and the house itself was bigger than four +Old Homes spliced together. It had a fair-sized township around it +in the shape of land, with a high stone wall for trimming on the +edges. There was trees, and places for flower-beds in summer, and +the land knows what. We see right off that this was the real +Cashmere-on-the-Hudson; the village folks were stranded on the +flats--old Dillaway filled the whole ship channel. + +"Well," I says to Jonadab, "it looks to me as if we was getting out +of soundings. What do you say to coming about and making a quick +run for Orham again?" + +But he wouldn't hear of it. "S'pose I've spent all that money on +duds for nothing?" he says. "No, sir, by thunder! I ain't scared +of Peter Brown, nor her that's going to be his wife; and I ain't +scared of Ebenezer neither; no matter if he does live in the +Manufacturers' Building, with two or three thousand fathom of front +fence," he says. + +Some years ago Jonadab got reckless and went on a cut-rate +excursion to the World's Fair out in Chicago, and ever sence then +he's been comparing things with the "Manufacturers' Building" or +the "Palace of Agriculture" or "Streets of Cairo," or some other +outlandish place. + +"All right," says I. "Darn the torpedoes! Keep her as she is! +You can fire when ready, Gridley!" + +So we sot sail for what we jedged was Ebenezer's front-gate, and +just as we made it, a man comes whistling round the bend in the +path, and I'm blessed if 'twa'n't Peter T. Brown. He was rigged to +kill, as usual, only more so. + +"Hello, Peter!" I says. "Here we be." + +If ever a feller was surprised, Brown was that feller. He looked +like he'd struck a rock where there was deep water on the chart. + +"Well, I'll be ----" he begun, and then stopped. "What in the ----" +he commenced again, and again his breath died out. Fin'lly he +says: "Is this you, or had I better quit and try another pipe?" + +We told him 'twas us, and it seemed to me that he wa'n't nigh so +tickled as he'd ought to have been. When he found we'd come to the +wedding, 'count of Ebenezer sending us word, he didn't say nothing +for a minute or so. + +"Of course, we HAD to come," says Jonadab. "We felt 'twouldn't be +right to disapp'int Mr. Dillaway." + +Peter kind of twisted his mouth. "That's so," he says. "It'll be +worth more'n a box of diamonds to him. Do him more good than +joining a 'don't worry club.' Well, come on up to the house and +ease his mind." + +So we done it, and Ebenezer acted even more surprised than Peter. + +I can't tell you anything about that house, nor the fixings in it; +it beat me a mile--that house did. We had a room somewheres up on +the hurricane deck, with brass bunks and plush carpets and +crocheted curtains and electric lights. I swan there was looking +glasses in every corner--big ones, man's size. I remember Cap'n +Jonadab hollering to me that night when he was getting ready to +turn in: + +"For the land's sake, Barzilla!" says he, "turn out them lights, +will you? I ain't over'n' above bashful, but them looking glasses +make me feel's if I was undressing along with all hands and the +cook." + +The house was full of comp'ny, and more kept coming all the time. +Swells! don't talk! We felt 'bout as much at home as a cow in a +dory, but we was there 'cause Ebenezer had asked us to be there, so +we kept on the course and didn't signal for help. Travelling +through the rooms down stairs where the folks was, was a good deal +like dodging icebergs up on the Banks, but one or two noticed us +enough to dip the colors, and one was real sociable. He was a kind +of slow-spoken city-feller, dressed as if his clothes was poured +over him hot and then left to cool. His last name had a splice in +the middle of it--'twas Catesby-Stuart. Everybody--that is, most +everybody--called him "Phil." + +Well, sir, Phil cottoned to Jonadab and me right away. He'd get +us, one on each wing, and go through that house asking questions. +He pumped me and Jonadab dry about how we come to be there, and +told us more yarns than a few 'bout Dillaway, and how rich he was. +I remember he said that he only wished he had the keys to the +cellar so he could show us the money-bins. Said Ebenezer was so +just--well, rotten with money, as you might say, that he kept it in +bins down cellar, same as poor folks kept coal--gold in one bin, +silver half-dollars in another, quarters in another, and so on. +When he needed any, he'd say to a servant: "James, fetch me up a +hod of change." This was only one of the fish yarns he told. They +sounded kind of scaly to Jonadab and me, but if we hinted at such a +thing, he'd pull himself together and say: "Fact, I assure you," +in a way to freeze your vitals. He seemed like such a good feller +that we didn't mind his telling a few big ones; we'd known good +fellers afore that liked to lie--gunners and such like, they were +mostly. + +Somehow or 'nother Phil got Cap'n Jonadab talking "boat," and when +Jonadab talks "boat" there ain't no stopping him. He's the +smartest feller in a cat-boat that ever handled a tiller, and he's +won more races than any man on the Cape, I cal'late. Phil asked +him and me if we'd ever sailed on an ice-boat, and, when we said we +hadn't he asks if we won't take a sail with him on the river next +morning. We didn't want to put him to so much trouble on our +account, but he said: "Not at all. Pleasure'll be all mine, I +assure you." Well, 'twas his for a spell--but never mind that now. + +He introduced us to quite a lot of the comp'ny--men mostly. He'd +see a school of 'em in a corner, or under a palm tree or +somewheres, and steer us over in that direction and make us known +to all hands. Then he begin to show us off, so to speak, get +Jonadab telling 'bout the boats he'd sailed, or something like it-- +and them fellers would laugh and holler, but Phil's face wouldn't +shake out a reef: he looked solemn as a fun'ral all the time. +Jonadab and me begun to think we was making a great hit. Well, we +was, but not the way we thought. I remember one of the gang gets +Phil to one side after a talk like this and whispers to him, +laughing like fun. Phil says to him: "My dear boy, I've been to +thousands of these things--" waving his flipper scornful around the +premises--" and upon honor they've all been alike. Now that I've +discovered something positively original, let me enjoy myself. The +entertainment by the Heavenly Twins is only begun." + +I didn't know what he meant then; I do now. + +The marrying was done about eight o'clock and done with all the +trimmings. All hands manned the yards in the best parlor, and +Peter and Belle was hitched. Then they went away in a swell +turnout--not like the derelict hacks we'd seen stranded by the +Cashmere depot--and Jonadab pretty nigh took the driver's larboard +ear off with a shoe Phil gave him to heave after 'em. + +After the wedding the folks was sitting under the palms and bushes +that was growing in tubs all over the house, and the stewards-- +there was enough of 'em to man a four-master--was carting 'round +punch and frozen victuals. Everybody was togged up till Jonadab +and me, in our new cutaways, felt like a couple of moulting +blackbirds at a blue-jay camp-meeting. Ebenezer was so busy, +flying 'round like a pullet with its head off, that he'd hardly +spoke to us sence we landed, but Phil scarcely ever left us, so we +wa'n't lonesome. Pretty soon he comes back from a beat into the +next room, and he says: + +"There's a lady here that's just dying to know you gentlemen. Her +name's Granby. Tell her all about the Cape; she'll like it. And, +by the way, my dear feller," he whispers to Jonadab "if you want to +please her--er--mightily, congratulate her upon her boy's success +in the laundry business. You understand," he says, winking; "only +son and self-made man, don't you know." + +Mrs. Granby was roosting all by herself on a sofy in the parlor. +She was fleshy, but terrible stiff and proud, and when she moved +the diamonds on her shook till her head and neck looked like one of +them "set pieces" at the Fourth of July fireworks. She was deef, +too, and used an ear-trumpet pretty nigh as big as a steamer's +ventilator. + +Maybe she was "dying to know us," but she didn't have a fit trying +to show it. Me and Jonadab felt we'd ought to be sociable, and so +we set, one on each side of her on the sofy, and bellered: "How +d'ye do?" and "Fine day, ain't it?" into that ear-trumpet. She +didn't say much, but she'd couple on the trumpet and turn to +whichever one of us had hailed, heeling over to that side as if her +ballast had shifted. She acted to me kind of uneasy, but everybody +that come into that parlor--and they kept piling in all the time-- +looked more'n middling joyful. They kept pretty quiet, too, so +that every yell we let out echoed, as you might say, all 'round. +I begun to git shaky at the knees, as if I was preaching to a big +congregation. + +After a spell, Jonadab not being able to think of anything more to +say, and remembering Phil's orders, leans over and whoops into the +trumpet. + +"I'm real glad your son done so well with his laundry," he says. + +Well, sir, Phil had give us to understand that them congratulations +would make a hit, and they done it. The women 'round the room +turned red and some of 'em covered their mouths with their +handkerchiefs. The men looked glad and set up and took notice. +Ebenezer wa'n't in the room--which was a mercy--but your old mess- +mate, Catesby-Stuart, looked solemn as ever and never turned a +hair. + +But as for old lady Granby--whew! She got redder'n she was afore, +which was a miracle, pretty nigh. She couldn't speak for a minute-- +just cackled like a hen. Then she busts out with: "How dare +you!" and flounces out of that room like a hurricane. And it was +still as could be for a minute, and then two or three of the girls +begun to squeal and giggle behind their handkerchiefs. + +Jonadab and me went away, too. We didn't flounce any to speak of. +I guess a "sneak" would come nearer to telling how we quit. I see +the cap'n heading for the stairs and I fell into his wake. Nobody +said good-night, and we didn't wait to give 'em a chance. + +'Course we knew we'd put our foot in it somewheres, but we didn't +see just how. Even then we wa'n't really onto Phil's game. You +see, when a green city chap comes to the Old Home House--and the +land knows there's freaks enough do come--we always try to make +things pleasant for him, and the last thing we'd think of was +making him a show afore folks. So we couldn't b'lieve even now +'twas done a-purpose. But we was suspicious, a little. + +"Barzilla," says Jonadab, getting ready to turn in, "'tain't +possible that that feller with the sprained last name is having fun +with us, is it?" + +"Jonadab," says I, "I've been wondering that myself." + +And we wondered for an hour, and finally decided to wait a while +and say nothing till we could ask Ebenezer. And the next morning +one of the stewards comes up to our room with some coffee and grub, +and says that Mr. Catesby-Stuart requested the pleasure of our +comp'ny on a afore-breakfast ice-boat sail, and would meet us at +the pier in half an hour. They didn't have breakfast at Ebenezer's +till pretty close to dinner time, eleven o'clock, so we had time +enough for quite a trip. + +Phil and the ice-boat met us on time. I s'pose it 'twas style, +but, if I hadn't known I'd have swore he'd run short of duds and +had dressed up in the bed-clothes. I felt of his coat when he +wa'n't noticing, and if it wa'n't made out of a blanket then I +never slept under one. And it made me think of my granddad to see +what he had on his head--a reg'lar nightcap, tassel and all. Phil +said he was sorry we turned in so early the night afore. Said he'd +planned to entertain us all the evening. We didn't hurrah much at +this--being suspicious, as I said--and he changed the subject to +ice-boats. + +That ice-boat was a bird. I cal'lated to know a boat when I +sighted one, but a flat-iron on skates was something bran-new. +I didn't think much of it, and I could see that Jonadab didn't +neither. + +But in about three shakes of a lamb's tail I was ready to take it +all back and say I never said it. I done enough praying in the +next half hour to square up for every Friday night meeting I'd +missed sence I was a boy. Phil got sail onto her, and we moved out +kind of slow. + +"Now, then," says he, "we'll take a little jaunt up the river. +'Course this isn't like one of your Cape Cod cats, but still--" + +And then I dug my finger nails into the deck and commenced: "Now I +lay me." Talk about going! 'Twas "F-s-s-s-t!" and we was a mile +from home. "Bu-z-z-z!" and we was just getting ready to climb a +bank; but 'fore she nosed the shore Phil would put the helm over +and we'd whirl round like a windmill, with me and Jonadab biting +the planking, and hanging on for dear life, and my heart, that had +been up in my mouth knocking the soles of my boots off. And Cap'n +Catesby-Stuart would grin, and drawl: "'Course, this ain't like a +Orham cat-boat, but she does fairly well--er--fairly. Now, for +instance, how does this strike you?" + +It struck us--I don't think any got away. I expected every minute +to land in the hereafter, and it got so that the prospect looked +kind of inviting, if only to get somewheres where 'twas warm. That +February wind went in at the top of my stiff hat and whizzed out +through the legs of my thin Sunday pants till I felt for all the +world like the ventilating pipe on an ice-chest. I could see why +Phil was wearing the bed-clothes; what I was suffering for just +then was a feather mattress on each side of me. + +Well, me and Jonadab was "it" for quite a spell. Phil had all the +fun, and I guess he enjoyed it. If he'd stopped right then, when +the fishing was good, I cal'late he'd have fetched port with a full +hold; but no, he had to rub it in, so to speak, and that's where he +slopped over. You know how 'tis when you're eating mince-pie--it's +the "one more slice" that fetches the nightmare. Phil stopped to +get that slice. + +He kept whizzing up and down that river till Jonadab and me kind of +got over our variousness. We could manage to get along without +spreading out like porous plasters, and could set up for a minute +or so on a stretch. And twa'n't necessary for us to hold a special +religious service every time the flat-iron come about. Altogether, +we was in that condition where the doctor might have held out some +hopes. + +And, in spite of the cold, we was noticing how Phil was sailing +that three-cornered sneak-box--noticing and criticising; at least, +I was, and Cap'n Jonadab, being, as I've said, the best skipper of +small craft from Provincetown to Cohasset Narrows, must have had +some ideas on the subject. Your old chum, Catesby-Stuart, thought +he was mast-high so fur's sailing was concerned, anybody could see +that, but he had something to larn. He wasn't beginning to get out +all there was in that ice-boat. And just then along comes another +feller in the same kind of hooker and gives us a hail. There was +two other chaps on the boat with him. + +"Hello, Phil!" he yells, rounding his flat-iron into the wind +abreast of ours and bobbing his night-cap. "I hoped you might be +out. Are you game for a race?" + +"Archie," answers our skipper, solemn as a setting hen, "permit me +to introduce to you Cap'n Jonadab Wixon and Admiral Barzilla +Wingate, of Orham, on the Cape." + +I wasn't expecting to fly an admiral's pennant quite so quick, but +I managed to shake out through my teeth--they was chattering like a +box of dice--that I was glad to know the feller. Jonadab, he +rattled loose something similar. + +"The Cap'n and the Admiral," says Phil, "having sailed the raging +main for lo! these many years, are now favoring me with their +advice concerning the navigation of ice-yachts. Archie, if you're +willing to enter against such a handicap of brains and barnacles, +I'll race you on a beat up to the point yonder, then on the ten +mile run afore the wind to the buoy opposite the Club, and back to +the cove by Dillaway's. And we'll make it a case of wine. Is it a +go?" + +Archie, he laughed and said it was, and, all at once, the race was +on. + +Now, Phil had lied when he said we was "favoring" him with advice, +'cause we hadn't said a word; but that beat up to the point wa'n't +half over afore Jonadab and me was dying to tell him a few things. +He handled that boat like a lobster. Archie gained on every tack +and come about for the run a full minute afore us. + +And on that run afore the wind 'twas worse than ever. The way Phil +see-sawed that piece of pie back and forth over the river was a sin +and shame. He could have slacked off his mainsail and headed dead +for the buoy, but no, he jiggled around like an old woman crossing +the road ahead of a funeral. + +Cap'n Jonadab was on edge. Racing was where he lived, as you might +say, and he fidgeted like he was setting on a pin-cushion. By and +by he snaps out: + +"Keep her off! Keep her off afore the wind! Can't you see where +you're going?" + +Phil looked at him as if he was a graven image, and all the answer +he made was; "Be calm, Barnacles, be calm!" + +But pretty soon I couldn't stand it no longer, and I busts out +with: "Keep her off, Mr. What's-your name! For the Lord's sake, +keep her off! He'll beat the life out of you!" + +And all the good that done was for me to get a stare that was +colder than the wind, if such a thing's possible. + +But Jonadab got fidgetyer every minute, and when we come out into +the broadest part of the river, within a little ways of the buoy, +he couldn't stand it no longer. + +"You're spilling half the wind!" he yells. "Pint' her for the buoy +or else you'll be licked to death! Jibe her so's she gits it full. +Jibe her, you lubber! Don't you know how? Here! let me show you!" + +And the next thing I knew he fetched a hop like a frog, shoved Phil +out of the way, grabbed the tiller, and jammed it over. + +She jibed--oh, yes, she jibed! If anybody says she didn't you send +'em to me. I give you my word that that flat-iron jibed twice-- +once for practice, I jedge, and then for business. She commenced +by twisting and squirming like an eel. I jest had sense enough to +clamp my mittens onto the little brass rail by the stern and hold +on; then she jibed the second time. She stood up on two legs, the +boom come over with a slat that pretty nigh took the mast with it, +and the whole shebang whirled around as if it had forgot something. +I have a foggy kind of remembrance of locking my mitten clamps fast +onto that rail while the rest of me streamed out in the air like a +burgee. Next thing I knew we was scooting back towards Dillaway's, +with the sail catching every ounce that was blowing. Jonadab was +braced across the tiller, and there, behind us, was the Honorable +Philip Catesby-Stuart, flat on his back, with his blanket legs +looking like a pair of compasses, and skimming in whirligigs over +the slick ice towards Albany. HE hadn't had nothing to hold onto, +you understand. Well, if I hadn't seen it, I wouldn't have +b'lieved that a human being could spin so long or travel so fast on +his back. His legs made a kind of smoky circle in the air over +him, and he'd got such a start I thought he'd NEVER STOP a-going. +He come to a place where some snow had melted in the sun and there +was a pond, as you might say, on the ice, and he went through that, +heaving spray like one of them circular lawn sprinklers the summer +folks have. He'd have been as pretty as a fountain, if we'd had +time to stop and look at him. + +"For the land sakes, heave to!" I yelled, soon's I could get my +breath. "You've spilled the skipper!" + +"Skipper be durned!" howls Jonadab, squeezing the tiller and +keeping on the course; "We'll come back for him by and by. It's +our business to win this race." + +And, by ginger! we DID win it. The way Jonadab coaxed that cocked +hat on runners over the ice was pretty--yes, sir, pretty! He +nipped her close enough to the wind'ard, and he took advantage of +every single chance. He always COULD sail; I'll say that for him. +We walked up on Archie like he'd set down to rest, and passed him +afore he was within a half mile of home. We run up abreast of +Dillaway's, putting on all the fancy frills of a liner coming into +port, and there was Ebenezer and a whole crowd of wedding company +down by the landing. + +"Gosh!" says Jonadab, tugging at his whiskers: "'Twas Cape Cod +against New York that time, and you can't beat the Cape when it +comes to getting over water, not even if the water's froze. Hey, +Barzilla?" + +Ebenezer came hopping over the ice towards us. He looked some +surprised. + +"Where's Phil?" he says. + +Now, I'd clean forgot Phil and I guess Jonadab had, by the way he +colored up. + +"Phil?" says he. "Phil? Oh, yes! We left him up the road a +piece. Maybe we'd better go after him now." + +But old Dillaway had something to say. + +"Cap'n," he says, looking round to make sure none of the comp'ny +was follering him out to the ice-boat. "I've wanted to speak to +you afore, but I haven't had the chance. You mustn't b'lieve too +much of what Mr. Catesby-Stuart says, nor you mustn't always do +just what he suggests. You see," he says, "he's a dreadful +practical joker." + +"Yes," says Jonadab, beginning to look sick. I didn't say nothing, +but I guess I looked the same way. + +"Yes," said Ebenezer, kind of uneasy like; "Now, in that matter of +Mrs. Granby. I s'pose Phil put you up to asking her about her +son's laundry. Yes? Well, I thought so. You see, the fact is, +her boy is a broker down in Wall Street, and he's been caught +making some of what they call 'wash sales' of stock. It's against +the rules of the Exchange to do that, and the papers have been full +of the row. You can see," says Dillaway, "how the laundry question +kind of stirred the old lady up. But, Lord! it must have been +funny," and he commenced to grin. + +I looked at Jonadab, and he looked at me. I thought of Marm +Granby, and her being "dying to know us," and I thought of the lies +about the "hod of change" and all the rest, and I give you my word +_I_ didn't grin, not enough to show my wisdom teeth, anyhow. A +crack in the ice an inch wide would have held me, with room to +spare; I know that. + +"Hum!" grunts Jonadab, kind of dry and bitter, as if he'd been +taking wormwood tea; "_I_ see. He's been having a good time making +durn fools out of us." + +"Well," says Ebenezer, "not exactly that, p'raps, but--" + +And then along comes Archie and his crowd in the other ice-boat. + +"Hi!" he yells. "Who sailed that boat of yours? He knew his +business all right. I never saw anything better. Phil--why, where +IS Phil?" + +I answered him. "Phil got out when we jibed," I says. + +"Was THAT Phil?" he hollers, and then the three of 'em just roared. + +"Oh, by Jove, you know!" says Archie, "that's the funniest thing I +ever saw. And on Phil, too! He'll never hear the last of it at +the club--hey, boys?" And then they just bellered and laughed +again. + +When they'd gone, Jonadab turned to Ebenezer and he says: "That +taking us out on this boat was another case of having fun with the +countrymen. Hey?" + +"I guess so," says Dillaway. "I b'lieve he told one of the guests +that he was going to put Cape Cod on ice this morning." + +I looked away up the river where a little black speck was just +getting to shore. And I thought of how chilly the wind was out +there, and how that ice-water must have felt, and what a long ways +'twas from home. And then I smiled, slow and wide; there was a +barge load of joy in every half inch of that smile. + +"It's a cold day when Phil loses a chance for a joke," says +Ebenezer. + +"'Tain't exactly what you'd call summery just now," I says. And we +hauled down sail, run the ice-boat up to the wharf, and went up to +our room to pack our extension cases for the next train. + +"You see," says Jonadab, putting in his other shirt, "it's easy +enough to get the best of Cape folks on wash sales and lying, but +when it comes to boats that's a different pair of shoes." + +"I guess Phil'll agree with you," I says. + + + + +THE COUNT AND THE MANAGER + + +The way we got into the hotel business in the first place come +around like this: Me and Cap'n Jonadab went down to Wellmouth Port +one day 'long in March to look at some property he'd had left him. +Jonadab's Aunt Sophrony had moved kind of sudden from that village +to Beulah Land--they're a good ways apart, too--and Cap'n Jonadab +had come in for the old farm, he being the only near relative. + +When you go to Wellmouth Port you get off the cars at Wellmouth +Center and then take Labe Bearse's barge and ride four miles; and +then, if the horse don't take a notion to lay down in the road and +go to sleep, or a wheel don't come off or some other surprise party +ain't sprung on you, you come to a place where there's a Baptist +chapel that needs painting, and a little two-for-a-cent store that +needs trade, and two or three houses that need building over, and +any Lord's quantity of scrub pines and beach grass and sand. Then +you take Labe's word for it that you've got to Wellmouth Port and +get out of the barge and try to remember you're a church member. + +Well, Aunt Sophrony's house was a mile or more from the place where +the barge stopped, and Jonadab and me, we hoofed it up there. We +bought some cheese and crackers and canned things at the store, +'cause we expected to stay overnight in the house, and knew there +wasn't no other way of getting provender. + +We got there after a spell and set down on the big piazza with our +souls full of gratitude and our boots full of sand. Great, big, +old-fashioned house with fourteen big bedrooms in it, big barn, +sheds, and one thing or 'nother, and perched right on top of a hill +with five or six acres of ground 'round it. And how the March wind +did whoop in off the sea and howl and screech lonesomeness through +the pine trees! You take it in the middle of the night, with the +shutters rattling and the old joists a-creaking and Jonadab snoring +like a chap sawing hollow logs, and if it wan't joy then my name +ain't Barzilla Wingate. I don't wonder Aunt Sophrony died. I'd +have died 'long afore she did if I knew I was checked plumb through +to perdition. There'd be some company where I was going, anyhow. + +The next morning after ballasting up with the truck we'd bought at +the store--the feller 'most keeled over when he found we was going +to pay cash for it--we went out on the piazza again, and looked at +the breakers and the pine trees and the sand, and held our hats on +with both hands. + +"Jonadab," says I, "what'll you take for your heirloom?" + +"Well," he says, "Barzilla, the way I feel now, I think I'd take a +return ticket to Orham and be afraid of being took up for swindling +at that." + +Neither of us says nothing more for a spell, and, first thing you +know, we heard a carriage rattling somewhere up the road. I was +shipwrecked once and spent two days in a boat looking for a sail. +When I heard that rattling I felt just the way I done when I +sighted the ship that picked us up. + +"Judas!" says Jonadab, "there's somebody COMING!" + +We jumped out of our chairs and put for the corner of the house. +There WAS somebody coming--a feller in a buggy, and he hitched his +horse to the front fence and come whistling up the walk. + +He was a tall chap, with a smooth face, kind of sharp and knowing, +and with a stiff hat set just a little on one side. His clothes +was new and about a week ahead of up-to-date, his shoes shined till +they lit up the lower half of his legs, and his pants was creased +so's you could mow with 'em. Cool and slick! Say! in the middle +of that deadliness and compared to Jonadab and me, he looked like a +bird of Paradise in a coop of moulting pullets. + +"Cap'n Wixon?" he says to me, sticking out a gloved flipper. + +"Not guilty," says I. "There's the skipper. My name's Wingate." + +"Glad to have the pleasure, Mr. Wingate," he says. "Cap'n Wixon, +yours truly." + +We shook hands, and he took each of us by the arm and piloted us +back to the piazza, like a tug with a couple of coal barges. He +pulled up a chair, crossed his legs on the rail, reached into the +for'ard hatch of his coat and brought out a cigar case. + +"Smoke up," he says. We done it--I holding my hat to shut off the +wind, while Jonadab used up two cards of matches getting the first +light. When we got the cigars to going finally, the feller says: + +"My name's Brown--Peter T. Brown. I read about your falling heir +to this estate, Cap'n Wixon, in a New Bedford paper. I happened to +be in New Bedford then, representing the John B. Wilkins +Unparalleled All Star Uncle Tom's Cabin and Ten Nights in a Bar- +room Company. It isn't my reg'lar line, the show bus'ness, but it +produced the necessary 'ham and' every day and the excelsior sleep +inviter every night, so--but never mind that. Soon as I read the +paper I came right down to look at the property. Having rubbered, +back I go to Orham to see you. Your handsome and talented daughter +says you are over here. That'll be about all--here I am. Now, +then, listen to this." + +He went under his hatches again, rousted out a sheet of paper, +unfolded it and read something like this--I know it by heart: + +"The great sea leaps and splashes before you as it leaped and +splashed in the old boyhood days. The sea wind sings to you as it +sang of old. The old dreams come back to you, the dreams you +dreamed as you slumbered upon the cornhusk mattress in the clean, +sweet little chamber of the old home. Forgotten are the cares of +business, the scramble for money, the ruthless hunt for fame. Here +are perfect rest and perfect peace. + +"Now what place would you say I was describing?" says the feller. + +"Heaven," says Jonadab, looking up, reverent like. + +You never see a body more disgusted than Brown. + +"Get out!" he snaps. "Do I look like the advance agent of Glory? +Listen to this one." + +He unfurls another sheet of paper, and goes off on a tack about +like this: + +"The old home! You who sit in your luxurious apartments, attended +by your liveried servants, eating the costly dishes that bring you +dyspepsia and kindred evils, what would you give to go back once +more to the simple, cleanly living of the old house in the country? +The old home, where the nights were cool and refreshing, the sleep +deep and sound; where the huckleberry pies that mother fashioned +were swimming in fragrant juice, where the shells of the clams for +the chowder were snow white and the chowder itself a triumph; where +there were no voices but those of the wind and sea; no--" + +"Don't!" busts out Jonadab. "Don't! I can't stand it!" + +He was mopping his eyes with his red bandanner. I was consider'ble +shook up myself. The dear land knows we was more used to +huckleberry pies and clam chowder than we was to liveried servants +and costly dishes, but there was something in the way that feller +read off that slush that just worked the pump handle. A hog would +have cried; I know _I_ couldn't help it. As for Peter T. Brown, he +fairly crowed. + +"It gets you!" he says. "I knew it would. And it'll get a heap of +others, too. Well, we can't send 'em back to the old home, but we +can trot the old home to them, or a mighty good imitation of it. +Here it is; right here!" + +And he waves his hand up toward Aunt Sophrony's cast-off palace. + +Cap'n Jonadab set up straight and sputtered like a firecracker. +A man hates to be fooled. + +"Old home!" he snorts. "Old county jail, you mean!" + +And then that Brown feller took his feet down off the rail, hitched +his chair right in front of Jonadab and me and commenced to talk. +And HOW he did talk! Say, he could talk a Hyannis fisherman into a +missionary. I wish I could remember all he said; 'twould make a +book as big as a dictionary, but 'twould be worth the trouble of +writing it down. 'Fore he got through he talked a thousand dollars +out of Cap'n Jonadab, and it takes a pretty hefty lecture to +squeeze a quarter out of HIM. To make a long yarn short, this was +his plan: + +He proposed to turn Aunt Sophrony's wind plantation into a hotel +for summer boarders. And it wan't going to be any worn-out, +regulation kind of a summer hotel neither. + +"Confound it, man!" he says, "they're sick of hot and cold water, +elevators, bell wires with a nigger on the end, and all that. +There's a raft of old codgers that call themselves 'self-made +men'--meanin' that the Creator won't own 'em, and they take the +responsibility themselves--that are always wishing they could go +somewheres like the shacks where they lived when they were kids. +They're always talking about it, and wishing they could go to the +old home and rest. Rest! Why, say, there's as much rest to this +place as there is sand, and there's enough of that to scour all the +knives in creation." + +"But 'twill cost so like the dickens to furnish it," I says. + +"Furnish it!" says he. "Why, that's just it! It won't cost +nothing to furnish it--nothing to speak of. I went through the +house day before yesterday--crawled in the kitchen window--oh! it's +all right, you can count the spoons--and there's eight of those +bedrooms furnished just right, corded bedsteads, painted bureaus +with glass knobs, 'God Bless Our Home' and Uncle Jeremiah's coffin +plate on the wall, rag mats on the floor, and all the rest. All +she needs is a little more of the same stuff, that I can buy 'round +here for next to nothing--I used to buy for an auction room--and a +little paint and fixings, and there she is. All I want from you +folks is a little money--I'll chuck in two hundred and fifty +myself--and you two can be proprietors and treasurers if you want +to. But active manager and publicity man--that's yours cheerily, +Peter Theodosius Brown!" And he slapped his plaid vest. + +Well, he talked all the forenoon and all the way to Orham on the +train and most of that night. And when he heaved anchor, Jonadab +had agreed to put up a thousand and I was in for five hundred and +Peter contributed two hundred and fifty and experience and nerve. +And the "Old Home House" was off the ways. + +And by the first of May 'twas open and ready for business, too. +You never see such a driver as that feller Brown was. He had a new +wide piazza built all 'round the main buildings, painted everything +up fine, hired the three best women cooks in Wellmouth--and there's +some good cooks on Cape Cod, too--and a half dozen chamber girls +and waiters. He had some trouble getting corded beds and old +bureaus for the empty rooms, but he got 'em finally. He bought the +last bed of Beriah Burgess, up at East Harniss, and had quite a +dicker getting it. + +"He thought he ought to get five dollars for it," says Brown, +telling Jonadab and me about it. "Said he hated to part with it +because his grandmother died in it. I told him I couldn't see any +good reason why I should pay more for a bed just because it had +killed his grandmother, so we split up and called it three dollars. +'Twas too much money, but we had to have it." + +And the advertisements! They was sent everywheres. Lots of 'em +was what Peter called "reading notices," and them he mostly got for +nothing, for he could talk an editor foolish same as he could +anybody else. By the middle of April most of our money was gone, +but every room in the house was let and we had applications coming +by the pailful. + +And the folks that come had money, too--they had to have to pay +Brown's rates. I always felt like a robber or a Standard Oil +director every time I looked at the books. The most of 'em was +rich folks--self-made men, just like Peter prophesied--and they +brought their wives and daughters and slept on cornhusks and eat +chowder and said 'twas great and just like old times. And they got +the rest we advertised; we didn't cheat 'em on REST. By ten +o'clock pretty nigh all hands was abed, and 'twas so still all you +could hear was the breakers or the wind, or p'raps a groan coming +from a window where some boarder had turned over in his sleep and a +corncob in the mattress had raked him crossways. + +There was one old chap that we'll call Dillaway--Ebenezer Dillaway. +That wan't his name; his real one's too well known to tell. He +runs the "Dillaway Combination Stores" that are all over the +country. In them stores you can buy anything and buy it cheap-- +cheapness is Ebenezer's stronghold and job lots is his sheet +anchor. He'll sell you a mowing machine and the grass seed to grow +the hay to cut with it. He'll sell you a suit of clothes for two +dollars and a quarter, and for ten cents more he'll sell you glue +enough to stick it together again after you've worn it out in the +rain. He'll sell you anything, and he's got cash enough to sink a +ship. + +He come to the "Old Home House" with his daughter, and he took to +the place right away. Said 'twas for all the world like where he +used to live when he was a boy. He liked the grub and he liked the +cornhusks and he liked Brown. Brown had a way of stealing a thing +and yet paying enough for it to square the law--that hit Ebenezer +where he lived. + +His daughter liked Brown, too, and 'twas easy enough to see that +Brown liked her. She was a mighty pretty girl, the kind Peter +called a "queen," and the active manager took to her like a cat to +a fish. They was together more'n half the time, gitting up sailing +parties, or playing croquet, or setting up on the "Lover's Nest," +which was a kind of slab summer-house Brown had rigged up on the +bluff where Aunt Sophrony's pig-pens used to be in the old days. + +Me and Jonadab see how things was going, and we'd look at one +another and wink and shake our heads when the pair'd go by +together. But all that was afore the count come aboard. + +We got our first letter from the count about the third of June. +The writing was all over the plate like a biled dinner, and the +English looked like it had been shook up in a bag, but it was +signed with a nine fathom, toggle-jinted name that would give a +pollparrot the lockjaw, and had the word "Count" on the bow of it. + +You never see a feller happier than Peter T. Brown. + +"Can he have rooms?" says Peter. "CAN he? Well, I should rise to +elocute! He can have the best there is if yours truly has to bunk +in the coop with the gladsome Plymouth Rock. That's what! He says +he's a count and he'll be advertised as a count from this place to +where rolls the Oregon." + +And he was, too. The papers was full of how Count What's-his-Name +was hanging out at the "Old Home House," and we got more letters +from rich old women and pork-pickling money bags than you could +shake a stick at. If you want to catch the free and equal nabob of +a glorious republic, bait up with a little nobility and you'll have +your salt wet in no time. We had to rig up rooms in the carriage +house, and me and Jonadab slept in the haymow. + +The count himself hove in sight on June fifteenth. He was a +little, smoked Italian man with a pair of legs that would have been +carried away in a gale, and a black mustache with waxed ends that +you'd think would punch holes in the pillow case. His talk was +like his writing, only worse, but from the time his big trunk with +the foreign labels was carried upstairs, he was skipper and all +hands of the "Old Home House." + +And the funny part of it was that old man Dillaway was as much gone +on him as the rest. For a self-made American article he was the +worst gone on this machine-made importation that ever you see. I +s'pose when you've got more money than you can spend for straight +goods you nat'rally go in for buying curiosities; I can't see no +other reason. + +Anyway, from the minute the count come over the side it was "Good- +by, Peter." The foreigner was first oar with the old man and +general consort for the daughter. Whenever there was a sailing +trip on or a spell of roosting in the Lover's Nest, Ebenezer would +see that the count looked out for the "queen," while Brown stayed +on the piazza and talked bargains with papa. It worried Peter-- +you could see that. He'd set in the barn with Jonadab and me, +thinking, thinking, and all at once he'd bust out: + +"Bless that Dago's heart! I haven't chummed in with the degenerate +aristocracy much in my time, but somewhere or other I've seen that +chap before. Now where--where--where?" + +For the first two weeks the count paid his board like a major; then +he let it slide. Jonadab and me was a little worried, but he was +advertising us like fun, his photographs--snap shots by Peter--was +getting into the papers, so we judged he was a good investment. +But Peter got bluer and bluer. + +One night we was in the setting room--me and Jonadab and the count +and Ebenezer. The "queen" and the rest of the boarders was abed. + +The count was spinning a pigeon English yarn of how he'd fought a +duel with rapiers. When he'd finished, old Dillaway pounded his +knee and sung out: + +"That's bus'ness! That's the way to fix 'em! No lawsuits, no +argument, no delays. Just take 'em out and punch holes in 'em. +Did you hear that, Brown?" + +"Yes, I heard it," says Peter, kind of absent-minded like. +"Fighting with razors, wan't it?" + +Now there wan't nothing to that--'twas just some of Brown's +sarcastic spite getting the best of him--but I give you my word +that the count turned yellow under his brown skin, kind of like mud +rising from the bottom of a pond. + +"What-a you say?" he says, bending for'ards. + +"Mr. Brown was mistaken, that's all," says Dillaway; "he meant +rapiers." + +"But why-a razors--why-a razors?" says the count. + +Now I was watching Brown's face, and all at once I see it light up +like you'd turned a searchlight on it. He settled back in his +chair and fetched a long breath as if he was satisfied. Then he +grinned and begged pardon and talked a blue streak for the rest of +the evening. + +Next day he was the happiest thing in sight, and when Miss Dillaway +and the count went Lover's Nesting he didn't seem to care a bit. +All of a sudden he told Jonadab and me that he was going up to +Boston that evening on bus'ness and wouldn't be back for a day or +so. He wouldn't tell what the bus'ness was, either, but just +whistled and laughed and sung, "Good-by, Susannah; don't you grieve +for me," till train time. + +He was back again three nights afterward, and he come right out to +the barn without going nigh the house. He had another feller with +him, a kind of shabby dressed Italian man with curly hair. + +"Fellers," he says to me and Jonadab, "this is my friend, Mr. +Macaroni; he's going to engineer the barber shop for a while." + +Well, we'd just let our other barber go, so we didn't think +anything of this, but when he said that his friend Spaghetti was +going to stay in the barn for a day or so, and that we needn't +mention that he was there, we thought that was funny. + +But Peter done a lot of funny things the next day. One of 'em was +to set a feller painting a side of the house by the count's window, +that didn't need painting at all. And when the feller quit for the +night, Brown told him to leave the ladder where 'twas. + +That evening the same crowd was together in the setting room. +Peter was as lively as a cricket, talking, talking, all the time. +By and by he says: + +"Oh, say, I want you to see the new barber. He can shave anything +from a note to a porkypine. Come in here, Chianti!" he says, +opening the door and calling out. "I want you." + +And in come the new Italian man, smiling and bowing and looking +"meek and lowly, sick and sore," as the song says. + +Well, we laughed at Brown's talk and asked the Italian all kinds of +fool questions and nobody noticed that the count wan't saying +nothing. Pretty soon he gets up and says he guesses he'll go to +his room, 'cause he feels sort of sick. + +And I tell you he looked sick. He was yellower than he was the +other night, and he walked like he hadn't got his sea legs on. +Old Dillaway was terrible sorry and kept asking if there wan't +something he could do, but the count put him off and went out. + +"Now that's too bad!" says Brown. "Spaghetti, you needn't wait any +longer." + +So the other Italian went out, too. + +And then Peter T. Brown turned loose and talked the way he done +when me and Jonadab first met him. He just spread himself. He +told of this bargain that he'd made and that sharp trade he had +turned, while we set there and listened and laughed like a parsel +of fools. And every time that Ebenezer'd get up to go to bed, +Peter'd trot out a new yarn and he'd have to stop to listen to +that. And it got to be eleven o'clock and then twelve and then +one. + +It was just about quarter past one and we was laughing our heads +off at one of Brown's jokes, when out under the back window there +was a jingle and a thump and a kind of groaning and wiggling noise. + +"What on earth is that?" says Dillaway. + +"I shouldn't be surprised," says Peter, cool as a mack'rel on ice, +"if that was his royal highness, the count." + +He took up the lamp and we all hurried outdoors and 'round the +corner. And there, sure enough, was the count, sprawling on the +ground with his leather satchel alongside of him, and his foot fast +in a big steel trap that was hitched by a chain to the lower round +of the ladder. He rared up on his hands when he see us and started +to say something about an outrage. + +"Oh, that's all right, your majesty," says Brown. "Hi, Chianti, +come here a minute! Here's your old college chum, the count, been +and put his foot in it." + +When the new barber showed up the count never made another move, +just wilted like a morning-glory after sunrise. But you never see +a worse upset man than Ebenezer Dillaway. + +"But what does this mean?" says he, kind of wild like. "Why don't +you take that thing off his foot?" + +"Oh," says Peter, "he's been elongating my pedal extremity for the +last month or so; I don't see why I should kick if he pulls his own +for a while. You see," he says, "it's this way: + +"Ever since his grace condescended to lend the glory of his +countenance to this humble roof," he says, "it's stuck in my mind +that I'd seen the said countenance somewhere before. The other +night when our conversation was trifling with the razor subject and +the Grand Lama here"--that's the name he called the count--"was +throwing in details about his carving his friends, it flashed +across me where I'd seen it. About a couple of years ago I was +selling the guileless rural druggists contiguous to Scranton, +Pennsylvania, the tasty and happy combination called 'Dr. Bulger's +Electric Liver Cure,' the same being a sort of electric light for +shady livers, so to speak. I made my headquarters at Scranton, +and, while there, my hair was shortened and my chin smoothed in a +neat but gaudy barber shop, presided over by my friend Spaghetti +here, and my equally valued friend the count." + +"So," says Peter, smiling and cool as ever, "when it all came back +to me, as the song says, I journeyed to Scranton accompanied by a +photograph of his lordship. I was lucky enough to find Macaroni in +the same old shop. He knew the count's classic profile at once. +It seems his majesty had hit up the lottery a short time previous +for a few hundred and had given up barbering. I suppose he'd read +in the papers that the imitation count line was stylish and +profitable and so he tried it on. It may be," says Brown, offhand, +"that he thought he might marry some rich girl. There's some fool +fathers, judging by the papers, that are willing to sell their +daughters for the proper kind of tag on a package like him." + +Old man Dillaway kind of made a face, as if he'd ate something that +tasted bad, but he didn't speak. + +"And so," says Peter, "Spaghetti and I came to the Old Home +together, he to shave for twelve per, and I to set traps, etcetera. +That's a good trap," he says, nodding, "I bought it in Boston. I +had the teeth filed down, but the man that sold it said 'twould +hold a horse. I left the ladder by his grace's window, thinking he +might find it handy after he'd seen his friend of other days, +particularly as the back door was locked. + +"And now," goes on Brown, short and sharp, "let's talk business. +Count," he says, "you are set back on the books about sixty odd for +old home comforts. We'll cut off half of that and charge it to +advertising. You draw well, as the man said about the pipe. But +the other thirty you'll have to work out. You used to shave like a +bird. I'll give you twelve dollars a week to chip in with Macaroni +here and barber the boarders." + +But Dillaway looked anxious. + +"Look here, Brown," he says, "I wouldn't do that. I'll pay his +board bill and his traveling expenses if he clears out this minute. +It seems tough to set him shaving after he's been such a big gun +around here." + +I could see right off that the arrangement suited Brown first rate +and was exactly what he'd been working for, but he pretended not to +care much for it. + +"Oh! I don't know," he says. "I'd rather be a sterling barber +than a plated count. But anything to oblige you, Mr. Dillaway." + +So the next day there was a nobleman missing at the "Old Home +House," and all we had to remember him by was a trunk full of +bricks. And Peter T. Brown and the "queen" was roosting in the +Lover's Nest; and the new Italian was busy in the barber shop. He +could shave, too. He shaved me without a pull, and my face ain't +no plush sofy, neither. + +And before the season was over the engagement was announced. Old +Dillaway took it pretty well, considering. He liked Peter, and his +having no money to speak of didn't count, because Ebenezer had +enough for all hands. The old man said he'd been hoping for a son- +in-law sharp enough to run the "Consolidated Stores" after he was +gone, and it looked, he said, as if he'd found him. + + + + +THE SOUTH SHORE WEATHER BUREAU + + +"But," says Cap'n Jonadab and me together, jest as if we was +"reading in concert" same as the youngsters do in school, "but," +we says, "will it work? Will anybody pay for it?" + +"Work?" says Peter T., with his fingers in the arm-holes of the +double-breasted danger-signal that he called a vest, and with his +cigar tilted up till you'd think 'twould set his hat-brim afire. +"Work?" says he. "Well, maybe 'twouldn't work if the ordinary +brand of canned lobster was running it, but with ME to jerk the +lever and sound the loud timbrel--why, say! it's like stealing +money from a blind cripple that's hard of hearing." + +"Yes, I know," says Cap'n Jonadab. "But this ain't like starting +the Old Home House. That was opening up a brand-new kind of hotel +that nobody ever heard of before. This is peddling weather +prophecies when there's the Gov'ment Weather Bureau running +opposition--not to mention the Old Farmer's Almanac, and I don't +know how many more," he says. + +Brown took his patent leathers down off the rail of the piazza, +give the ashes of his cigar a flip--he knocked 'em into my hat that +was on the floor side of his chair, but he was too excited to mind-- +and he says: + +"Confound it, man!" he says. "You can throw more cold water than a +fire-engine. Old Farmer's Almanac! This isn't any 'About this +time look out for snow' business. And it ain't any Washington cold +slaw like 'Weather for New England and Rocky Mountains, Tuesday to +Friday; cold to warm; well done on the edges with a rare streak in +the middle, preceded or followed by rain, snow, or clearing. Wind, +north to south, varying east and west.' No siree! this is TO-DAY'S +weather for Cape Cod, served right off the griddle on a hot plate, +and cooked by the chef at that. You don't realize what a regular +dime-museum wonder that feller is," he says. + +Well, I suppose we didn't. You see, Jonadab and me, like the rest +of the folks around Wellmouth, had come to take Beriah Crocker and +his weather notions as the regular thing, like baked beans on a +Saturday night. Beriah, he-- + +But there! I've been sailing stern first. Let's get her headed +right, if we ever expect to turn the first mark. You see, 'twas +this way: + +'Twas in the early part of May follering the year that the "Old +Home House" was opened. We'd had the place all painted up, decks +holy-stoned, bunks overhauled, and one thing or 'nother, and the +"Old Home" was all taut and shipshape, ready for the crew-- +boarders, I mean. Passages was booked all through the summer and +it looked as if our second season would be better'n our first. + +Then the Dillaway girl--she was christened Lobelia, like her +mother, but she'd painted it out and cruised under the name of +Belle since the family got rich--she thought 'twould be nice to +have what she called a "spring house-party" for her particular +friends 'fore the regular season opened. So Peter--he being +engaged at the time and consequent in that condition where he'd +have put on horns and "mooed" if she'd give the order--he thought +'twould be nice, too, and for a week it was "all hands on deck!" +getting ready for the "house-party." + +Two days afore the thing was to go off the ways Brown gets a letter +from Belle, and in it says she's invited a whole lot of folks from +Chicago and New York and Boston and the land knows where, and that +they've never been to the Cape and she wants to show 'em what a +"quaint" place it is. "Can't you get," says she, "two or three +delightful, queer, old 'longshore characters to be at work 'round +the hotel? It'll give such a touch of local color," she says. + +So out comes Peter with the letter. + +"Barzilla," he says to me, "I want some characters. Know anybody +that's a character?" + +"Well," says I, "there's Nate Slocum over to Orham. He'd steal +anything that wa'n't spiked down. He's about the toughest +character I can think of, offhand, this way." + +"Oh, thunder!" says Brown. "I don't want a crook; that wouldn't be +any novelty to THIS crowd," he says. "What I'm after is an odd +stick; a feller with pigeons in his loft. Not a lunatic, but jest +a queer genius--little queerer than you and the Cap'n here." + +After a while we got his drift, and I happened to think of Beriah +and his chum, Eben Cobb. They lived in a little shanty over to +Skakit P'int and got their living lobstering, and so on. Both of +'em had saved a few thousand dollars, but you couldn't get a cent +of it without giving 'em ether, and they'd rather live like +Portugees than white men any day, unless they was paid to change. +Beriah's pet idee was foretelling what the weather was going to be. +And he could do it, too, better'n anybody I ever see. He'd smell a +storm further'n a cat can smell fish, and he hardly ever made a +mistake. Prided himself on it, you understand, like a boy does on +his first long pants. His prophecies was his idols, so's to speak, +and you couldn't have hired him to foretell what he knew was wrong, +not for no money. + +Peter said Beriah and Eben was just the sort of "cards" he was +looking for and drove right over to see 'em. He hooked 'em, too. +I knew he would; he could talk a Come-Outer into believing that a +Unitarian wasn't booked for Tophet, if he set out to. + +So the special train from Boston brought the "house-party" down, +and our two-seated buggy brought Beriah and Eben over. They didn't +have anything to do but to look "picturesque" and say "I snum!" and +"I swan to man!" and they could do that to the skipper's taste. +The city folks thought they was "just too dear and odd for +anything," and made 'em bigger fools than ever, which wa'n't +necessary. + +The second day of the "party" was to be a sailing trip clear down +to the life-saving station on Setuckit Beach. It certainly looked +as if 'twas going to storm, and the Gov'ment predictions said it +was, but Beriah said "No," and stuck out that 'twould clear up by +and by. Peter wanted to know what I thought about their starting, +and I told him that 'twas my experience that where weather was +concerned Beriah was a good, safe anchorage. So they sailed away, +and, sure enough, it cleared up fine. And the next day the +Gov'ment fellers said "clear" and Beriah said "rain," and she +poured a flood. And, after three or four of such experiences, +Beriah was all hunky with the "house-party," and they looked at him +as a sort of wonderful freak, like a two-headed calf or the "snake +child," or some such outrage. + +So, when the party was over, 'round comes Peter, busting with a new +notion. What he cal'lated to do was to start a weather prophesying +bureau all on his own hook, with Beriah for prophet, and him for +manager and general advertiser, and Jonadab and me to help put up +the money to get her going. He argued that summer folks from +Scituate to Provincetown, on both sides of the Cape, would pay good +prices for the real thing in weather predictions. The Gov'ment +bureau, so he said, covered too much ground, but Beriah was local +and hit her right on the head. His idee was to send Beriah's +predictions by telegraph to agents in every Cape town each morning, +and the agents was to hand 'em to susscribers. First week a free +trial; after that, so much per prophecy. + +And it worked--oh, land, yes! it worked. Peter's letters and +circulars would satisfy anybody that black was white, and the free +trial was a sure bait. I don't know why 'tis, but if you offered +the smallpox free, there'd be a barrel of victims waiting in line +to come down with it. Brown rigged up a little shanty on the bluff +in front of the "Old Home," and filled it full of barometers and +thermometers and chronometers and charts, and put Beriah and Eben +inside to look wise and make b'lieve do something. That was the +office of "The South Shore Weather Bureau," and 'twas sort of +sacred and holy, and 'twould kill you to see the boarders tip- +toeing up and peeking in the winder to watch them two old coots +squinting through a telescope at the sky or scribbling rubbish on +paper. And Beriah was right 'most every time. I don't know why-- +my notion is that he was born that way, same as some folks are born +lightning calculators--but I'll never forget the first time Peter +asked him how he done it. + +"Wall," drawls Beriah, "now to-day looks fine and clear, don't it? +But last night my left elbow had rheumatiz in it, and this morning +my bones ache, and my right toe-j'int is sore, so I know we'll have +an easterly wind and rain this evening. If it had been my left toe +now, why--" + +Peter held up both hands. + +"That'll do," he says. "I ain't asking any more questions. ONLY, +if the boarders or outsiders ask you how you work it, you cut out +the bones and toe business and talk science and temperature to beat +the cars. Understand, do you? It's science or no eight-fifty in +the pay envelope. Left toe-joint!" And he goes off grinning. + +We had to have Eben, though he wasn't wuth a green hand's wages as +a prophet. But him and Beriah stuck by each other like two flies +in the glue-pot, and you couldn't hire one without t'other. Peter +said 'twas all right--two prophets looked better'n one, anyhow; +and, as subscriptions kept up pretty well, and the Bureau paid a +fair profit, Jonadab and me didn't kick. + +In July, Mrs. Freeman--she had charge of the upper decks in the +"Old Home" and was rated head chambermaid--up and quit, and being +as we couldn't get another capable Cape Codder just then, Peter +fetched down a woman from New York; one that a friend of old +Dillaway's recommended. She was able seaman so far's the work was +concerned, but she'd been good-looking once and couldn't forget it, +and she was one of them clippers that ain't happy unless they've +got a man in tow. You know the kind: pretty nigh old enough to be +a coal-barge, but all rigged up with bunting and frills like a +yacht. + +Her name was Kelly, Emma Kelly, and she was a widow--whether from +choice or act of Providence I don't know. The other women servants +was all down on her, of course, 'cause she had city ways and a +style of wearing her togs that made their Sunday gowns and bonnets +look like distress signals. But they couldn't deny that she was a +driver so far's her work was concerned. She'd whoop through the +hotel like a no'theaster and have everything done, and done well, +by two o'clock in the afternoon. Then she'd be ready to dress up +and go on parade to astonish the natives. + +Men--except the boarders, of course--was scarce around Wellmouth +Port. First the Kelly lady begun to flag Cap'n Jonadab and me, but +we sheered off and took to the offing. Jonadab, being a widower, +had had his experience, and I never had the marrying disease and +wasn't hankering to catch it. So Emma had to look for other +victims, and the prophet-shop looked to her like the most likely +feeding-ground. + +And, would you b'lieve it, them two old critters, Beriah and Eben, +gobbled the bait like sculpins. If she'd been a woman like the +kind they was used to--the Cape kind, I mean--I don't s'pose they'd +have paid any attention to her; but she was diff'rent from anything +they'd ever run up against, and the first thing you know, she had +'em both poke-hooked. 'Twas all in fun on her part first along, I +cal'late, but pretty soon some idiot let out that both of 'em was +wuth money, and then the race was on in earnest. + +She'd drop in at the weather-factory 'long in the afternoon and +pretend to be terrible interested in the goings on there. + +"I don't see how you two gentlemen CAN tell whether it's going to +rain or not. I think you are the most WONDERFUL men! Do tell me, +Mr. Crocker, will it be good weather to-morrer? I wanted to take a +little walk up to the village about four o'clock if it was." + +And then Beriah'd swell out like a puffing pig and put on airs and +look out of the winder, and crow: + +"Yes'm, I jedge that we'll have a southerly breeze in the morning +with some fog, but nothing to last, nothing to last. The +afternoon, I cal'late, 'll be fair. I--I--that is to say, I was +figgering on goin' to the village myself to-morrer." + +Then Emma would pump up a blush, and smile, and purr that she was +SO glad, 'cause then she'd have comp'ny. And Eben would glower at +Beriah and Beriah'd grin sort of superior-like, and the mutual +barometer, so's to speak, would fall about a foot during the next +hour. The brotherly business between the two prophets was coming +to an end fast, and all on account of Mrs. Kelly. + +She played 'em even for almost a month; didn't show no preference +one way or the other. First 'twas Eben that seemed to be eating up +to wind'ard, and then Beriah'd catch a puff and gain for a spell. +Cap'n Jonadab and me was uneasy, for we was afraid the Weather +Bureau would suffer 'fore the thing was done with; but Peter was +away, and we didn't like to interfere till he come home. + +And then, all at once, Emma seemed to make up her mind, and 'twas +all Eben from that time on. The fact is, the widder had learned, +somehow or 'nother, that he had the most money of the two. Beriah +didn't give up; he stuck to it like a good one, but he was falling +behind and he knew it. As for Eben, he couldn't help showing a +little joyful pity, so's to speak, for his partner, and the +atmosphere in that rain lab'ratory got so frigid that I didn't know +but we'd have to put up a stove. The two wizards was hardly on +speaking terms. + +The last of August come and the "Old Home House" was going to close +up on the day after Labor Day. Peter was down again, and so was +Ebenezer and Belle, and there was to be high jinks to celebrate the +season's wind-up. There was to be a grand excursion and clambake +at Setuckit Beach and all hands was going--four catboats full. + +Of course, the weather must be good or it's no joy job taking +females to Setuckit in a catboat. The night before the big day, +Peter came out to the Weather Bureau and Jonadab and me dropped in +likewise. Beriah was there all alone; Eben was out walking with +Emma. + +"Well, Jeremiah," says Brown, chipper as a mack'rel gull on a spar- +buoy, "what's the outlook for to-morrer? The Gov'ment sharp says +there's a big storm on the way up from Florida. Is he right, or +only an 'also ran,' as usual?" + +"Wall," says Beriah, goin' to the door, "I don't know, Mr. Brown. +It don't look just right; I swan it don't! I can tell you better +in the morning. I hope 'twill be fair, too, 'cause I was +cal'lating to get a day off and borrer your horse and buggy and go +over to the Ostable camp-meeting. It's the big day over there," he +says. + +Now, I knew of course, that he meant he was going to take the +widder with him, but Peter spoke up and says he: + +"Sorry, Beriah, but you're too late. Eben asked me for the horse +and buggy this morning. I told him he could have the open buggy; +the other one's being repaired, and I wouldn't lend the new surrey +to the Grand Panjandrum himself. Eben's going to take the fair +Emma for a ride," he says. "Beriah, I'm afraid our beloved Cobb +is, in the innocence of his youth, being roped in by the +sophisticated damsel in the shoo-fly hat," says he. + +Me and Jonadab hadn't had time to tell Peter how matters stood +betwixt the prophets, or most likely he wouldn't have said that. +It hit Beriah like a snowslide off a barn roof. I found out +afterwards that the widder had more'n half promised to go with HIM. +He slumped down in his chair as if his mainmast was carried away, +and he didn't even rise to blow for the rest of the time we was in +the shanty. Just set there, looking fishy-eyed at the floor. + +Next morning I met Eben prancing around in his Sunday clothes and +with a necktie on that would make a rainbow look like a mourning +badge. + +"Hello!" says I. "You seem to be pretty chipper. You ain't going +to start for that fifteen-mile ride through the woods to Ostable, +be you? Looks to me as if 'twas going to rain." + +"The predictions for this day," says he, "is cloudy in the +forenoon, but clearing later on. Wind, sou'east, changing to south +and sou'west." + +"Did Beriah send that out?" says I, looking doubtful, for if ever +it looked like dirty weather, I thought it did right then. + +"ME and Beriah sent it out," he says, jealous-like. But I knew +'twas Beriah's forecast or he wouldn't have been so sure of it. + +Pretty soon out comes Peter, looking dubious at the sky. + +"If it was anybody else but Beriah," he says, "I'd say this +mornings prophecy ought to be sent to Puck. Where is the seventh +son of the seventh son--the only original American seer?" + +He wasn't in the weather-shanty, and we finally found him on one of +the seats 'way up on the edge of the bluff. He didn't look 'round +when we come up, but just stared at the water. + +"Hey, Elijah!" says Brown. He was always calling Beriah "Elijah" +or "Isaiah" or "Jeremiah" or some other prophet name out of +Scripture. "Does this go?" And he held out the telegraph-blank +with the morning's prediction on it. + +Beriah looked around just for a second. He looked to me sort of +sick and pale--that is, as pale as his sun-burned rhinoceros hide +would ever turn. + +"The forecast for to-day," says he, looking at the water again, "is +cloudy in the forenoon, but clearing later on. Wind sou'east, +changing to south and sou'west." + +"Right you are!" says Peter, joyful. "We start for Setuckit, then. +And here's where the South Shore Weather Bureau hands another swift +jolt to your Uncle Sam." + +So, after breakfast, the catboats loaded up, the girls giggling and +screaming, and the men boarders dressed in what they hoped was sea- +togs. They sailed away 'round the lighthouse and headed up the +shore, and the wind was sou'east sure and sartin, but the +"clearing" part wasn't in sight yet. + +Beriah didn't watch 'em go. He stayed in the shanty. But by and +by, when Eben drove the buggy out of the barn and Emma come +skipping down the piazza steps, I see him peeking out of the little +winder. + +The Kelly critter had all sail sot and colors flying. Her dress +was some sort of mosquito netting with wall-paper posies on it, and +there was more ribbons flapping than there is reef-p'ints on a +mainsail. And her hat! Great guns! It looked like one of them +pictures you see in a flower-seed catalogue. + +"Oh!" she squeals, when she sees the buggy. "Oh! Mr. Cobb. Ain't +you afraid to go in that open carriage? It looks to me like rain." + +But Eben waved his flipper, scornful. "My forecast this morning," +says he, "is cloudy now, but clearing by and by. You trust to me, +Mis' Kelly. Weather's my business." + +"Of COURSE I trust you, Mr. Cobb," she says, "Of course I trust +you, but I should hate to spile my gown, that's all." + +They drove out of the yard, fine as fiddlers, and I watched 'em go. +When I turned around, there was Beriah watching 'em too, and he was +smiling for the first time that morning. But it was one of them +kind of smiles that makes you wish he'd cry. + +At ha'f-past ten it begun to sprinkle; at eleven 'twas raining +hard; at noon 'twas a pouring, roaring, sou'easter, and looked good +for the next twelve hours at least. + +"Good Lord! Beriah," says Cap'n Jonadab, running into the Weather +Bureau, "you've missed stays THIS time, for sure. Has your +prophecy-works got indigestion?" he says. + +But Beriah wasn't there. The shanty was closed, and we found out +afterwards that he spent that whole day in the store down at the +Port. + +By two o'clock 'twas so bad that I put on my ileskins and went over +to Wellmouth and telephoned to the Setuckit Beach life-saving +station to find out if the clambakers had got there right side up. +They'd got there; fact is, they was in the station then, and the +language Peter hove through that telephone was enough to melt the +wires. 'Twas all in the shape of compliments to the prophet, and I +heard Central tell him she'd report it to the head office. Brown +said 'twas blowing so they'd have to come back by the inside +channel, and that meant landing 'way up Harniss way, and hiring +teams to come to the Port with from there. + +'Twas nearly eight when they drove into the yard and come slopping +up the steps. And SUCH a passel of drownded rats you never see. +The women-folks made for their rooms, but the men hopped around the +parlor, shedding puddles with every hop, and hollering for us to +trot out the head of the Weather Bureau. + +"Bring him to me," orders Peter, stopping to pick his pants loose +from his legs; "I yearn to caress him." + +And what old Dillaway said was worse'n that. + +But Beriah didn't come to be caressed. 'Twas quarter past nine +when we heard wheels in the yard. + +"By mighty!" yells Cap'n Jonadab; "it's the camp-meeting pilgrims. +I forgot them. Here's a show." + +He jumped to open the door, but it opened afore he got there and +Beriah come in. He didn't pay no attention to the welcome he got +from the gang, but just stood on the sill, pale, but grinning the +grin that a terrier dog has on just as you're going to let the rat +out of the trap. + +Somebody outside says: "Whoa, consarn you!" Then there was a +thump and a sloshy stamping on the steps, and in comes Eben and the +widder. + +I had one of them long-haired, foreign cats once that a British +skipper gave me. 'Twas a yeller and black one and it fell +overboard. When we fished it out it looked just like the Kelly +woman done then. Everybody but Beriah just screeched--we couldn't +help it. But the prophet didn't laugh; he only kept on grinning. + +Emma looked once round the room, and her eyes, as well as you could +see 'em through the snarl of dripping hair and hat-trimming, fairly +snapped. Then she went up the stairs three steps at a time. + +Eben didn't say a word. He just stood there and leaked. Leaked +and smiled. Yes, sir! his face, over the mess that had been that +rainbow necktie, had the funniest look of idiotic joy on it that +ever _I_ see. In a minute everybody else shut up. We didn't know +what to make of it. + +'Twas Beriah that spoke first. + +"He! he! he!" he chuckled. "He! he! he! Wasn't it kind of wet +coming through the woods, Mr. Cobb? What does Mrs. Kelly think of +the day her beau picked out to go to camp-meeting in?" + +Then Eben came out of his trance. + +"Beriah," says he, holding out a dripping flipper, "shake!" + +But Beriah didn't shake. Just stood still. + +"I've got a s'prise for you, shipmate," goes on Eben. "Who did you +say that lady was?" + +Beriah didn't answer. I begun to think that some of the wet had +soaked through the assistant prophet's skull and had give him water +on the brain. + +"You called her Mis' Kelly, didn't you?" gurgled Eben. "Wall, that +ain't her name. Her and me stopped at the Baptist parsonage over +to East Harniss when we was on the way home and got married. She's +Mis' Cobb now," he says. + +Well, the queerest part of it was that 'twas the bad weather was +really what brought things to a head so sudden. Eben hadn't +spunked up anywhere nigh enough courage to propose, but they +stopped at Ostable so long, waiting for the rain to let up, that +'twas after dark when they was half way home. Then Emma--oh, she +was a slick one!--said that her reputation would be ruined, out +that way with a man that wa'n't her husband. If they was married +now, she said--and even a dummy could take THAT hint. + +I found Beriah at the weather-shanty about an hour afterwards with +his head on his arms. He looked up when I come in. + +"Mr. Wingate," he says, "I'm a fool, but for the land's sake don't +think I'm SUCH a fool as not to know that this here storm was bound +to strike to-day. I lied," he says; "I lied about the weather for +the first time in my life; lied right up and down so as to get her +mad with him. My repertation's gone forever. There's a feller in +the Bible that sold his--his birthday, I think 'twas--for a mess of +porridge. I'm him; only," and he groaned awful, "they've cheated +me out of the porridge." + +But you ought to have read the letters Peter got next day from +subscribers that had trusted to the prophecy and had gone on +picnics and such like. The South Shore Weather Bureau went out of +business right then. + + + + +THE DOG STAR + + +It commenced the day after we took old man Stumpton out codfishing. +Me and Cap'n Jonadab both told Peter T. Brown that cod wa'n't +biting much at that season, but he said cod be jiggered. + +"What's troubling me just now is landing suckers," he says. + +So the four of us got into the Patience M.--she's Jonadab's +catboat--and sot sail for the Crab Ledge. And we hadn't more'n got +our lines over the side than we struck into a school of dogfish. +Now, if you know anything about fishing you know that when the +dogfish strike on it's "good-by, cod!" So when Stumpton hauled a +big fat one over the rail I could tell that Jonadab was ready to +swear. But do you think it disturbed your old friend, Peter Brown? +No, sir! He never winked an eye. + +"By Jove!" he sings out, staring at that dogfish as if 'twas a gold +dollar. "By Jove!" says he, "that's the finest specimen of a +Labrador mack'rel ever I see. Bait up, Stump, and go at 'em +again." + +So Stumpton, having lived in Montana ever sence he was five years +old, and not having sighted salt water in all that time, he don't +know but what there IS such critters as "Labrador mack'rel," and he +goes at 'em, hammer and tongs. When we come ashore we had eighteen +dogfish, four sculpin and a skate, and Stumpton was the happiest +loon in Ostable County. It was all we could do to keep him from +cooking one of them "mack'rel" with his own hands. If Jonadab +hadn't steered him out of the way while I sneaked down to the Port +and bought a bass, we'd have had to eat dogfish--we would, as sure +as I'm a foot high. + +Stumpton and his daughter, Maudina, was at the Old Home House. +'Twas late in September, and the boarders had cleared out. Old +Dillaway--Peter's father-in-law--had decoyed the pair on from +Montana because him and some Wall Street sharks were figgering on +buying some copper country out that way that Stumpton owned. Then +Dillaway was took sick, and Peter, who was just back from his +wedding tower, brought the Montana victims down to the Cape with +the excuse to give 'em a good time alongshore, but really to keep +'em safe and out of the way till Ebenezer got well enough to finish +robbing 'em. Belle--Peter's wife--stayed behind to look after +papa. + +Stumpton was a great tall man, narrer in the beam, and with a +figgerhead like a henhawk. He enjoyed himself here at the Cape. +He fished, and loafed, and shot at a mark. He sartinly could +shoot. The only thing he was wishing for was something alive to +shoot at, and Brown had promised to take him out duck shooting. +'Twas too early for ducks, but that didn't worry Peter any; he'd +a-had ducks to shoot at if he bought all the poultry in the +township. + +Maudina was like her name, pretty, but sort of soft and mushy. +She had big blue eyes and a baby face, and her principal cargo was +poetry. She had a deckload of it, and she'd heave it overboard +every time the wind changed. She was forever ordering the ocean to +"roll on," but she didn't mean it; I had her out sailing once when +the bay was a little mite rugged, and I know. She was just out of +a convent school, and you could see she wasn't used to most things-- +including men. + +The first week slipped along, and everything was serene. Bulletins +from Ebenezer more encouraging every day, and no squalls in sight. +But 'twas almost too slick. I was afraid the calm was a weather +breeder, and sure enough, the hurricane struck us the day after +that fishing trip. + +Peter had gone driving with Maudina and her dad, and me and Cap'n +Jonadab was smoking on the front piazza. I was pulling at a pipe, +but the cap'n had the home end of one of Stumpton's cigars +harpooned on the little blade of his jackknife, and was busy +pumping the last drop of comfort out of it. I never see a man who +wanted to get his money's wuth more'n Jonadab, I give you my word, +I expected to see him swaller that cigar remnant every minute. + +And all to once he gives a gurgle in his throat. + +"Take a drink of water," says I, scared like. + +"Well, by time!" says he, pointing. + +A feller had just turned the corner of the house and was heading up +in our direction. He was a thin, lengthy craft, with more'n the +average amount of wrists sticking out of his sleeves, and with long +black hair trimmed aft behind his ears and curling on the back of +his neck. He had high cheek bones and kind of sunk-in black eyes, +and altogether he looked like "Dr. Macgoozleum, the Celebrated +Blackfoot Medicine Man." If he'd hollered: "Sagwa Bitters, only +one dollar a bottle!" I wouldn't have been surprised. + +But his clothes--don't say a word! His coat was long and buttoned +up tight, so's you couldn't tell whether he had a vest on or not-- +though 'twas a safe bet he hadn't--and it and his pants was made of +the loudest kind of black-and-white checks. No nice quiet pepper- +and-salt, you understand, but the checkerboard kind, the oilcloth +kind, the kind that looks like the marble floor in the Boston post- +office. They was pretty tolerable seedy, and so was his hat. Oh, +he was a last year's bird's nest NOW, but when them clothes was +fresh--whew! the northern lights and a rainbow mixed wouldn't have +been more'n a cloudy day 'longside of him. + +He run up to the piazza like a clipper coming into port, and he +sweeps off that rusty hat and hails us grand and easy. + +"Good-morning, gentlemen," says he. + +"We don't want none," says Jonadab, decided. + +The feller looked surprised. "I beg your pardon," says he. "You +don't want any--what?" + +"We don't want any 'Life of King Solomon' nor 'The World's Big +Classifyers.' And we don't want to buy any patent paint, nor +sewing machines, nor clothes washers, nor climbing evergreen roses, +nor rheumatiz salve. And we don't want our pictures painted, +neither." + +Jonadab was getting excited. Nothing riles him wuss than a +peddler, unless it's a woman selling tickets to a church fair. +The feller swelled up until I thought the top button on that +thunderstorm coat would drag anchor, sure. + +"You are mistaken," says he. "I have called to see Mr. Peter +Brown; he is--er--a relative of mine." + +Well, you could have blown me and Jonadab over with a cat's-paw. +We went on our beam ends, so's to speak. A relation of Peter T.'s; +why, if he'd been twice the panorama he was we'd have let him in +when he said that. Loud clothes, we figgered, must run in the +family. We remembered how Peter was dressed the first time we met +him. + +"You don't say!" says I. "Come right up and set down, Mr.--Mr.--" + +"Montague," says the feller. "Booth Montague. Permit me to +present my card." + +He drove into the hatches of his checkerboards and rummaged around, +but he didn't find nothing but holes, I jedge, because he looked +dreadful put out, and begged our pardons five or six times. + +"Dear me!" says he. "This is embarassing. I've forgot my +cardcase." + +We told him never mind the card; any of Peter's folks was more'n +welcome. So he come up the steps and set down in a piazza chair +like King Edward perching on his throne. Then he hove out some +remarks about its being a nice morning, all in a condescending sort +of way, as if he usually attended to the weather himself, but had +been sort of busy lately, and had handed the job over to one of the +crew. We told him all about Peter, and Belle, and Ebenezer, and +about Stumpton and Maudina. He was a good deal interested, and +asked consider'ble many questions. Pretty soon we heard a carriage +rattling up the road. + +"Hello!" says I. "I guess that's Peter and the rest coming now." + +Mr. Montague got off his throne kind of sudden. + +"Ahem!" says he. "Is there a room here where I may--er--receive +Mr. Brown in a less public manner? It will be rather a--er-- +surprise for him, and--" + +Well, there was a good deal of sense in that. I know 'twould +surprise ME to have such an image as he was sprung on me without +any notice. We steered him into the gents' parlor, and shut the +door. In a minute the horse and wagon come into the yard. Maudina +said she'd had a "heavenly" drive, and unloaded some poetry +concerning the music of billows and pine trees, and such. She and +her father went up to their rooms, and when the decks was clear +Jonadab and me tackled Peter T. + +"Peter," says Jonadab, "we've got a surprise for you. One of your +relations has come." + +Brown, he did look surprised, but he didn't act as he was any too +joyful. + +"Relation of MINE?" says he. "Come off! What's his name?" + +We told him Montague, Booth Montague. He laughed. + +"Wake up and turn over," he says. "They never had anything like +that in my family. Booth Montague! Sure 'twa'n't Algernon Cough- +drops?" + +We said no, 'twas Booth Montague, and that he was waiting in the +gents' parlor. So he laughed again, and said somethin' about +sending for Laura Lean Jibbey, and then we started. + +The checkerboard feller was standing up when we opened the door. +"Hello, Petey!" says he, cool as a cucumber, and sticking out a +foot and a half of wrist with a hand at the end of it. + +Now, it takes considerable to upset Peter Theodosius Brown. Up to +that time and hour I'd have bet on him against anything short of an +earthquake. But Booth Montague done it--knocked him plumb out of +water. Peter actually turned white. + +"Great--" he began, and then stopped and swallered. "HANK!" he +says, and set down in a chair. + +"The same," says Montague, waving the starboard extension of the +checkerboard. "Petey, it does me good to set my eyes on you. +Especially now, when you're the real thing." + +Brown never answered for a minute. Then he canted over to port and +reached down into his pocket. "Well," says he, "how much?" + +But Hank, or Booth, or Montague--whatever his name was--he waved +his flipper disdainful. "Nun-nun-nun-no, Petey, my son," he says, +smiling. "It ain't 'how much?' this time. When I heard how you'd +rung the bell the first shot out the box and was rolling in coin, I +said to myself: 'Here's where the prod comes back to his own.' +I've come to live with you, Petey, and you pay the freight." + +Peter jumped out of the chair. "LIVE with me!" he says. "You +Friday evening amateur night! It's back to 'Ten Nights in a +Barroom' for yours!" he says. + +"Oh, no, it ain't!" says Hank, cheerful. "It'll be back to Popper +Dillaway and Belle. When I tell 'em I'm your little cousin Henry +and how you and me worked the territories together--why--well, I +guess there'll be gladness round the dear home nest; hey?" + +Peter didn't say nothing. Then he fetched a long breath and +motioned with his head to Cap'n Jonadab and me. We see we weren't +invited to the family reunion, so we went out and shut the door. +But we did pity Peter; I snum if we didn't! + +It was most an hour afore Brown come out of that room. When he did +he took Jonadab and me by the arm and led us out back of the barn. + +"Fellers," he says, sad and mournful, "that--that plaster cast in a +crazy-quilt," he says, referring to Montague, "is a cousin of mine. +That's the living truth," says he, "and the only excuse I can make +is that 'tain't my fault. He's my cousin, all right, and his +name's Hank Schmults, but the sooner you box that fact up in your +forgetory, the smoother 'twill be for yours drearily, Peter T. +Brown. He's to be Mr. Booth Montague, the celebrated English poet, +so long's he hangs out at the Old Home; and he's to hang out here +until--well, until I can dope out a way to get rid of him." + +We didn't say nothing for a minute--just thought. Then Jonadab +says, kind of puzzled: "What makes you call him a poet?" he says. + +Peter answered pretty snappy: "'Cause there's only two or three +jobs that a long-haired image like him could hold down," he says. +"I'd call him a musician if he could play 'Bedelia' on a jews'- +harp; but he can't, so's he's got to be a poet." + +And a poet he was for the next week or so. Peter drove down to +Wellmouth that night and bought some respectable black clothes, and +the follering morning, when the celebrated Booth Montague come +sailing into the dining room, with his curls brushed back from his +forehead, and his new cutaway on, and his wrists covered up with +clean cuffs, blessed if he didn't look distinguished--at least, +that's the only word I can think of that fills the bill. And he +talked beautiful language, not like the slang he hove at Brown and +us in the gents' parlor. + +Peter done the honors, introducing him to us and the Stumptons as a +friend who'd come from England unexpected, and Hank he bowed and +scraped, and looked absent-minded and crazy-like a poet ought to. +Oh, he done well at it! You could see that 'twas just pie for him. + +And 'twas pie for Maudina, too. Being, as I said, kind of green +concerning men folks, and likewise taking to poetry like a cat to +fish, she just fairly gushed over this fraud. She'd reel off a +couple of fathom of verses from fellers named Spencer or Waller, or +such like, and he'd never turn a hair, but back he'd come and say +they was good, but he preferred Confucius, or Methuselah, or +somebody so antique that she nor nobody else ever heard of 'em. +Oh, he run a safe course, and he had HER in tow afore they turned +the first mark. + +Jonadab and me got worried. We see how things was going, and we +didn't like it. Stumpton was having too good a time to notice, +going after "Labrador mack'rel" and so on, and Peter T. was too +busy steering the cruises to pay any attention. But one afternoon +I come by the summerhouse unexpected, and there sat Booth Montague +and Maudina, him with a clove hitch round her waist, and she +looking up into his eyes like they were peekholes in the fence +'round paradise. That was enough. It just simply COULDN'T go any +further, so that night me and Jonadab had a confab up in my room. + +"Barzilla," says the cap'n, "if we tell Peter that that relation of +his is figgering to marry Maudina Stumpton for her money, and that +he's more'n likely to elope with her, 'twill pretty nigh kill Pete, +won't it? No, sir; it's up to you and me. We've got to figger out +some way to get rid of the critter ourselves." + +"It's a wonder to me," I says, "that Peter puts up with him. Why +don't he order him to clear out, and tell Belle if he wants to? +She can't blame Peter 'cause his uncle was father to an outrage +like that." + +Jonadab looks at me scornful. "Can't, hey?" he says. "And her +high-toned and chumming in with the bigbugs? It's easy to see you +never was married," says he. + +Well, I never was, so I shut up. + +We set there and thought and thought, and by and by I commenced to +sight an idee in the offing. 'Twas hull down at first, but pretty +soon I got it into speaking distance, and then I broke it gentle to +Jonadab. He grabbed at it like the "Labrador mack'rel" grabbed +Stumpton's hook. We set up and planned until pretty nigh three +o'clock, and all the next day we put in our spare time loading +provisions and water aboard the Patience M. We put grub enough +aboard to last a month. + +Just at daylight the morning after that we knocked at the door of +Montague's bedroom. When he woke up enough to open the door--it +took some time, 'cause eating and sleeping was his mainstay--we +told him that we was planning an early morning fishing trip, and if +he wanted to go with the folks he must come down to the landing +quick. He promised to hurry, and I stayed by the door to see that +he didn't get away. In about ten minutes we had him in the skiff +rowing off to the Patience M. + +"Where's the rest of the crowd?" says he, when he stepped aboard. + +"They'll be along when we're ready for 'em," says I. "You go below +there, will you, and stow away the coats and things." + +So he crawled into the cabin, and I helped Jonadab get up sail. We +intended towing the skiff, so I made her fast astern. In half a +shake we was under way and headed out of the cove. When that +British poet stuck his nose out of the companion we was abreast the +p'int. + +"Hi!" says he, scrambling into the cockpit. "What's this mean?" + +I was steering and feeling toler'ble happy over the way things had +worked out. + +"Nice sailing breeze, ain't it?" says I, smiling. + +"Where's Mau-Miss Stumpton?" he says, wild like. + +"She's abed, I cal'late," says I, "getting her beauty sleep. Why +don't YOU turn in? Or are you pretty enough now?" + +He looked first at me and then at Jonadab, and his face turned a +little yellower than usual. + +"What kind of a game is this?" he asks, brisk. "Where are you +going?" + +'Twas Jonadab that answered. "We're bound," says he, "for the +Bermudas. It's a lovely place to spend the winter, they tell me," +he says. + +That poet never made no remarks. He jumped to the stern and caught +hold of the skiff's painter. I shoved him out of the way and +picked up the boat hook. Jonadab rolled up his shirt sleeves and +laid hands on the centerboard stick. + +"I wouldn't, if I was you," says the cap'n. + +Jonadab weighs pretty close to two hundred, and most of it's +gristle. I'm not quite so much, fur's tonnage goes, but I ain't +exactly a canary bird. Montague seemed to size things up in a +jiffy. He looked at us, then at the sail, and then at the shore +out over the stern. + +"Done!" says he. "Done! And by a couple of 'farmers'!" + +And down he sets on the thwart. + +Well, we sailed all that day and all that night. 'Course we didn't +really intend to make the Bermudas. What we intended to do was to +cruise around alongshore for a couple of weeks, long enough for the +Stumptons to get back to Dillaway's, settle the copper business and +break for Montana. Then we was going home again and turn Brown's +relation over to him to take care of. We knew Peter'd have some +plan thought out by that time. We'd left a note telling him what +we'd done, and saying that we trusted to him to explain matters to +Maudina and her dad. We knew that explaining was Peter's main +holt. + +The poet was pretty chipper for a spell. He set on the thwart and +bragged about what he'd do when he got back to "Petey" again. He +said we couldn't git rid of him so easy. Then he spun yarns about +what him and Brown did when they was out West together. They was +interesting yarns, but we could see why Peter wa'n't anxious to +introduce Cousin Henry to Belle. Then the Patience M. got out +where 'twas pretty rugged, and she rolled consider'ble and after +that we didn't hear much more from friend Booth--he was too busy to +talk. + +That night me and Jonadab took watch and watch. In the morning it +thickened up and looked squally. I got kind of worried. By nine +o'clock there was every sign of a no'theaster, and we see we'd have +to put in somewheres and ride it out. So we headed for a place +we'll call Baytown, though that wa'n't the name of it. It's a +queer, old-fashioned town, and it's on an island; maybe you can +guess it from that. + +Well, we run into the harbor and let go anchor. Jonadab crawled +into the cabin to get some terbacker, and I was for'ard coiling the +throat halyard. All at once I heard oars rattling, and I turned my +head; what I see made me let out a yell like a siren whistle. + +There was that everlasting poet in the skiff--you remember we'd +been towing it astern--and he was jest cutting the painter with his +jackknife. Next minute he'd picked up the oars and was heading for +the wharf, doubling up and stretching out like a frog swimming, and +with his curls streaming in the wind like a rooster's tail in a +hurricane. He had a long start 'fore Jonadab and me woke up enough +to think of chasing him. + +But we woke up fin'lly, and the way we flew round that catboat was +a caution. I laid into them halyards, and I had the mainsail up to +the peak afore Jonadab got the anchor clear of the bottom. Then I +jumped to the tiller, and the Patience M. took after that skiff +like a pup after a tomcat. We run alongside the wharf just as +Booth Hank climbed over the stringpiece. + +"Get after him, Barzilla!" hollers Cap'n Jonadab. "I'll make her +fast." + +Well, I hadn't took more'n three steps when I see 'twas goin' to be +a long chase. Montague unfurled them thin legs of his and got over +the ground something wonderful. All you could see was a pile of +dust and coat tails flapping. + +Up on the wharf we went and round the corner into a straggly kind +of road with old-fashioned houses on both sides of it. Nobody in +the yards, nobody at the windows; quiet as could be, except that +off ahead, somewheres, there was music playing. + +That road was a quarter of a mile long, but we galloped through it +so fast that the scenery was nothing but a blur. Booth was gaining +all the time, but I stuck to it like a good one. We took a short +cut through a yard, piled over a fence and come out into another +road, and up at the head of it was a crowd of folks--men and women +and children and dogs. + +"Stop thief!" I hollers, and 'way astern I heard Jonadab bellering: +"Stop thief!" + +Montague dives headfirst for the crowd. He fell over a baby +carriage, and I gained a tack 'fore he got up. He wa'n't more'n +ten yards ahead when I come busting through, upsetting children and +old women, and landed in what I guess was the main street of the +place and right abreast of a parade that was marching down the +middle of it. + +First there was the band, four fellers tooting and banging like +fo'mast hands on a fishing smack in a fog. Then there was a big +darky toting a banner with "Jenkins' Unparalleled Double Uncle +Tom's Cabin Company, No. 2," on it in big letters. Behind him was +a boy leading two great, savage looking dogs--bloodhounds, I found +out afterwards--by chains. Then come a pony cart with Little Eva +and Eliza's child in it; Eva was all gold hair and beautifulness. +And astern of her was Marks the Lawyer, on his donkey. There was +lots more behind him, but these was all I had time to see just +then. + +Now, there was but one way for Booth Hank to get acrost that +street, and that was to bust through the procession. And, as luck +would have it, the place he picked out to cross was just ahead of +the bloodhounds. And the first thing I knew, them dogs stretched +out their noses and took a long sniff, and then bust out howling +like all possessed. The boy, he tried to hold 'em, but 'twas no +go. They yanked the chains out of his hands and took after that +poet as if he owed 'em something. And every one of the four +million other dogs that was in the crowd on the sidewalks fell into +line, and such howling and yapping and scampering and screaming you +never heard. + +Well, 'twas a mixed-up mess. That was the end of the parade. Next +minute I was racing across country with the whole town and the +Uncle Tommers astern of me, and a string of dogs stretched out +ahead fur's you could see. 'Way up in the lead was Booth Montague +and the bloodhounds, and away aft I could hear Jonadab yelling: +"Stop thief!" + +'Twas lively while it lasted, but it didn't last long. There was a +little hill at the end of the field, and where the poet dove over +'tother side of it the bloodhounds all but had him. Afore I got to +the top of the rise I heard the awfullest powwow going on in the +holler, and thinks I: "THEY'RE EATING HIM ALIVE!" + +But they wan't. When I hove in sight Montague was setting up on +the ground at the foot of the sand bank he'd fell into, and the two +hounds was rolling over him, lapping his face and going on as if he +was their grandpa jest home from sea with his wages in his pocket. +And round them, in a double ring, was all the town dogs, crazy mad, +and barking and snarling, but scared to go any closer. + +In a minute more the folks begun to arrive; boys first, then girls +and men, and then the women. Marks came trotting up, pounding the +donkey with his umbrella. + +"Here, Lion! Here, Tige!" he yells. "Quit it! Let him alone!" +Then he looks at Montague, and his jaw kind of drops. + +"Why--why, HANK!" he says. + +A tall, lean critter, in a black tail coat and a yaller vest and +lavender pants, comes puffing up. He was the manager, we found out +afterward. + +"Have they bit him?" says he. Then he done just the same as Marks; +his mouth opened and his eyes stuck out. "HANK SCHMULTS, by the +living jingo!" says he. + +Booth Montague looks at the two of 'em kind of sick and lonesome. +"Hello, Barney! How are you, Sullivan?" he says. + +I thought 'twas about time for me to get prominent. I stepped up, +and was just going to say something when somebody cuts in ahead of +me. + +"Hum!" says a voice, a woman's voice, and tolerable crisp and +vinegary. "Hum! it's you, is it? I've been looking for YOU!" + +'Twas Little Eva in the pony cart. Her lovely posy hat was hanging +on the back of her neck, her gold hair had slipped back so's you +could see the black under it, and her beautiful red cheeks was kind +of streaky. She looked some older and likewise mad. + +"Hum!" says she, getting out of the cart. "It's you, is it, Hank +Schmults? Well, p'r'aps you'll tell me where you've been for the +last two weeks? What do you mean by running away and leaving your--" + +Montague interrupted her. "Hold on, Maggie, hold on!" he begs. +"DON'T make a row here. It's all a mistake; I'll explain it to you +all right. Now, please--" + +"Explain!" hollers Eva, kind of curling up her fingers and moving +toward him. "Explain, will you? Why, you miserable, low-down--" + +But the manager took hold of her arm. He'd been looking at the +crowd, and I cal'late he saw that here was the chance for the best +kind of an advertisement. He whispered in her ear. Next thing I +knew she clasped her hands together, let out a scream and runs up +and grabs the celebrated British poet round the neck. + +"Booth!" says she. "My husband! Saved! Saved!" + +And she went all to pieces and cried all over his necktie. And +then Marks trots up the child, and that young one hollers: "Papa! +papa!" and tackles Hank around the legs. And I'm blessed if +Montague don't slap his hand to his forehead, and toss back his +curls, and look up at the sky, and sing out: "My wife and babe! +Restored to me after all these years! The heavens be thanked!" + +Well, 'twas a sacred sort of time. The town folks tiptoed away, +the men looking solemn but glad, and the women swabbing their +deadlights and saying how affecting 'twas, and so on. Oh, you +could see that show would do business THAT night, if it never did +afore. + +The manager got after Jonadab and me later on, and did his best to +pump us, but he didn't find out much. He told us that Montague +belonged to the Uncle Tom's Cabin Company, and that he'd +disappeared a fortni't or so afore, when they were playing at +Hyannis. Eva was his wife, and the child was their little boy. +The bloodhounds knew him, and that's why they chased him so. + +"What was you two yelling 'Stop thief!' after him for?" says he. +"Has he stole anything?" + +We says "No." + +"Then what did you want to get him for?" he says. + +"We didn't," says Jonadab. "We wanted to get rid of him. We don't +want to see him no more." + +You could tell that the manager was puzzled, but he laughed. + +"All right," says he. "If I know anything about Maggie--that's +Mrs. Schmults--he won't get loose ag'in." + +We only saw Montague to talk to but once that day. Then he peeked +out from under the winder shade at the hotel and asked us if we'd +told anybody where he'd been. When he found we hadn't, he was +thankful. + +"You tell Petey," says he, "that he's won the whole pot, kitty and +all. I don't think I'll visit him again, nor Belle, neither." + +"I wouldn't," says I. "They might write to Maudina that you was a +married man. And old Stumpton's been praying for something alive +to shoot at," I says. + +The manager gave Jonadab and me a couple of tickets, and we went to +the show that night. And when we saw Booth Hank Montague parading +about the stage and defying the slave hunters, and telling 'em he +was a free man, standing on the Lord's free soil, and so on, we +realized 'twould have been a crime to let him do anything else. + +"As an imitation poet," says Jonadab, "he was a kind of mildewed +article, but as a play actor--well, there may be some that can beat +him, but _I_ never see 'em!" + + + + +THE MARE AND THE MOTOR + + +Them Todds had got on my nerves. 'Twas Peter's ad that brought 'em +down. You see, 'twas 'long toward the end of the season at the Old +Home, and Brown had been advertising in the New York and Boston +papers to "bag the leftovers," as he called it. Besides the +reg'lar hogwash about the "breath of old ocean" and the "simple, +cleanly living of the bygone days we dream about," there was some +new froth concerning hunting and fishing. You'd think the wild +geese roosted on the flagpole nights, and the bluefish clogged up +the bay so's you could walk on their back fins without wetting your +feet--that is, if you wore rubbers and trod light. + +"There!" says Peter T., waving the advertisement and crowing +gladsome; "they'll take to that like your temp'rance aunt to brandy +cough-drops. We'll have to put up barbed wire to keep 'em off." + +"Humph!" grunts Cap'n Jonadab. "Anybody but a born fool'll know +there ain't any shooting down here this time of year." + +Peter looked at him sorrowful. "Pop," says he, "did you ever hear +that Solomon answered a summer hotel ad? This ain't a Chautauqua, +this is the Old Home House, and its motto is: 'There's a new +victim born every minute, and there's twenty-four hours in a day.' +You set back and count the clock ticks." + +Well, that's 'bout all we had to do. We got boarders enough from +that ridiculous advertisement to fill every spare room we had, +including Jonadab's and mine. Me and the cap'n had to bunk in the +barn loft; but there was some satisfaction in that--it give us an +excuse to get away from the "sports" in the smoking room. + +The Todds was part of the haul. He was a little, dried-up man, +single, and a minister. Nigh's I could find out, he'd given up +preaching by the request of the doctor and his last congregation. +He had a notion that he was a mighty hunter afore the Lord, like +Nimrod in the Bible, and he'd come to the Old Home to bag a few +gross of geese and ducks. + +His sister was an old maid, and slim, neither of which failings was +from choice, I cal'late. She wore eye-glasses and a veil to +"preserve her complexion," and her idee seemed to be that native +Cape Codders lived in trees and ate cocoanuts. She called 'em +"barbarians, utter barbarians." Whenever she piped "James" her +brother had to drop everything and report on deck. She was skipper +of the Todd craft. + +Them Todds was what Peter T. called "the limit, and a chip or two +over." The other would-be gunners and fishermen were satisfied to +slam shot after sandpeeps, or hook a stray sculpin or a hake. But +t'wa'n't so with brother James Todd and sister Clarissa. "Ducks" +it was in the advertising, and nothing BUT ducks they wanted. +Clarissa, she commenced to hint middling p'inted concerning fraud. + +Finally we lost patience, and Peter T., he said they'd got to be +quieted somehow, or he'd do some shooting on his own hook; said too +much Toddy was going to his head. Then I suggested taking 'em down +the beach somewheres on the chance of seeing a stray coot or loon +or something--ANYTHING that could be shot at. Jonadab and Peter +agreed 'twas a good plan, and we matched to see who'd be guide. +And I got stuck, of course; my luck again. + +So the next morning we started, me and the Reverend James and +Clarissa in the Greased Lightning, Peter's new motor launch. First +part of the trip that Todd man done nothing but ask questions about +the launch; I had to show him how to start it and steer it, and the +land knows what all. Clarissa set around doing the heavy +contemptuous and turning up her nose at creation generally. It +must have its drawbacks, this roosting so fur above the common +flock; seems to me I'd be thinking all the time of the bump that +was due me if I got shoved off the perch. + +Well, by and by Lonesome Huckleberries' shanty hove in sight, and I +was glad to see it, although I had to answer a million questions +about Lonesome and his history. + +I told the Todds that, so fur as nationality was concerned he was a +little of everything, like a picked-up dinner; principally +Eyetalian and Portugee, I cal'late, with a streak of Gay Head +Injun. His real name's long enough to touch bottom in the ship +channel at high tide, so folks got to calling him "Huckleberries" +because he peddles them kind of fruit in summer. Then he mopes +around so with nary a smile on his face, that it seemed right to +tack on the "Lonesome." So "Lonesome Huckleberries" he's been for +ten years. He lives in the patchwork shanty on the beach down +there, he is deaf and dumb, drives a liver-colored, balky mare that +no one but himself and his daughter Becky can handle, and he has a +love for bad rum and a temper that's landed him in the Wellmouth +lock-up more than once or twice. He's one of the best gunners +alongshore and at this time he owned a flock of live decoys that +he'd refused as high as fifteen dollars apiece for. I told all +this and a lot more. + +When we struck the beach, Clarissa, she took her paint box and +umbrella and mosquito 'intment, and the rest of her cargo, and went +off by herself to "sketch." She was great on "sketching," and the +way she'd use up good paint and spile nice clean paper was a sinful +waste. Afore she went, she give me three fathom of sailing orders +concerning taking care of "James." You'd think he was about four +year old; made me feel like a hired nurse. + +James and me went perusing up and down that beach in the blazing +sun looking for something to shoot. We went 'way beyond Lonesome's +shanty, but there wa'n't nobody to home. Lonesome himself, it +turned out afterward, was up to the village with his horse and +wagon, and his daughter Becky was over in the wood on the mainland +berrying. Todd was a cheerful talker, but limited. His favorite +remark was: "Oh, I say, my deah man." That's what he kept calling +me, "my deah man." Now, my name ain't exactly a Claude de +Montmorency for prettiness, but "Barzilla" 'll fetch ME alongside a +good deal quicker'n "my deah man," I'll tell you that. + +We frogged it up and down all the forenoon, but didn't git a shot +at nothing but one stray "squawk" that had come over from the Cedar +Swamp. I told James 'twas a canvasback, and he blazed away at it, +but missed it by three fathom, as might have been expected. + +Finally, my game leg--rheumatiz, you understand--begun to give out. +So I flops down in the shade of a sand bank to rest, and the +reverend goes poking off by himself. + +I cal'late I must have fell asleep, for when I looked at my watch +it was close to one o'clock, and time for us to be getting back to +port. I got up and stretched and took an observation, but +further'n Clarissa's umbrella on the skyline, I didn't see anything +stirring. Brother James wa'n't visible, but I jedged he was within +hailing distance. You can't see very fur on that point, there's +too many sand hills and hummocks. + +I started over toward the Greased Lightning. I'd gone only a +little ways, and was down in a gully between two big hummocks, when +"Bang! bang!" goes both barrels of a shotgun, and that Todd critter +busts out hollering like all possessed. + +"Hooray!" he squeals, in that squeaky voice of his. "Hooray! +I've got 'em! I've got 'em!" + +Thinks I, "What in the nation does the lunatic cal'late he's shot?" +And I left my own gun laying where 'twas and piled up over the edge +of that sand bank like a cat over a fence. And then I see a sight. + +There was James, hopping up and down in the beach grass, squealing +like a Guinea hen with a sore throat, and waving his gun with one +wing--arm, I mean--and there in front of him, in the foam at the +edge of the surf, was two ducks as dead as Nebuchadnezzar--two of +Lonesome Huckleberries' best decoy ducks--ducks he'd tamed and +trained, and thought more of than anything else in this world-- +except rum, maybe--and the rest of the flock was digging up the +beach for home as if they'd been telegraped for, and squawking +"Fire!" and "Murder!" + +Well, my mind was in a kind of various state, as you might say, for +a minute. 'Course, I'd known about Lonesome's owning them decoys-- +told Todd about 'em, too--but I hadn't seen 'em nowhere alongshore, +and I sort of cal'lated they was locked up in Lonesome's hen house, +that being his usual way when he went to town. I s'pose likely +they'd been feeding among the beach grass somewheres out of sight, +but I don't know for sartin to this day. And I didn't stop to +reason it out then, neither. As Scriptur' or George Washin'ton or +somebody says, "'twas a condition, not a theory," I was afoul of. + +"I've got 'em!" hollers Todd, grinning till I thought he'd swaller +his own ears. "I shot 'em all myself!" + +"You everlasting--" I begun, but I didn't get any further. There +was a rattling noise behind me, and I turned, to see Lonesome +Huckleberries himself, setting on the seat of his old truck wagon +and glaring over the hammer head of that balky mare of his straight +at brother Todd and the dead decoys. + +For a minute there was a kind of tableau, like them they have at +church fairs--all four of us, including the mare, keeping still, +like we was frozen. But 'twas only for a minute. Then it turned +into the liveliest moving picture that ever _I_ see. Lonesome +couldn't swear--being a dummy--but if ever a man got profane with +his eyes, he did right then. Next thing I knew he tossed both hands +into the air, clawed two handfuls out of the atmosphere, reached +down into the cart, grabbed a pitch-fork and piled out of that wagon +and after Todd. There was murder coming and I could see it. + +"Run, you loon!" I hollers, desperate. + +James didn't wait for any advice. He didn't know what he'd done, I +cal'late, but he jedged 'twas his move. He dropped his gun and put +down the shore like a wild man, with Lonesome after him. I tried +to foller, but my rheumatiz was too big a handicap; all I could do +was yell. + +You never'd have picked out Todd for a sprinter--not to look at +him, you wouldn't--but if he didn't beat the record for his class +just then I'll eat my sou'wester. He fairly flew, but Lonesome +split tacks with him every time, and kept to wind'ard, into the +bargain. When they went out of sight amongst the sand hills 'twas +anybody's race. + +I was scart. I knew what Lonesome's temper was, 'specially when it +had been iled with some Wellmouth Port no-license liquor. He'd +been took up once for half killing some boys that tormented him, +and I figgered if he got within pitchfork distance of the Todd +critter he'd make him the leakiest divine that ever picked a text. +I commenced to hobble back after my gun. It looked bad to me. + +But I'd forgot sister Clarissa. 'Fore I'd limped fur I heard her +calling to me. + +"Mr. Wingate," says she, "get in here at once." + +There she was, setting on the seat of Lonesome's wagon, holdin' the +reins and as cool as a white frost in October. + +"Get in at once," says she. I jedged 'twas good advice, and took +it. + +"Proceed," says she to the mare. "Git dap!" says I, and we started. +When we rounded the sand hill we see the race in the distance. +Lonesome had gained a p'int or two, and Todd wa'n't more'n four +pitchforks in the lead. + +"Make for the launch!" I whooped, between my hands. + +The parson heard me and come about and broke for the shore. The +Greased Lightning had swung out about the length of her anchor +rope, and the water wa'n't deep. Todd splashed in to his waist and +climbed aboard. He cut the roding just as Lonesome reached tide +mark. James, he sees it's a close call, and he shins back to the +engine, reaching it exactly at the time when the gent with the +pitchfork laid hands on the rail. Then the parson throws over the +switch--I'd shown him how, you remember--and gives the starting +wheel a full turn. + +Well, you know the Greased Lightning? She don't linger to say +farewell, not any to speak of, she don't. And this time she jumped +like the cat that lit on the hot stove. Lonesome, being balanced +with his knees on the rail, pitches headfust into the cockpit. +Todd, jumping out of his way, falls overboard backward. Next thing +anybody knew, the launch was scooting for blue water like a streak +of what she was named for, and the hunting chaplain was churning up +foam like a mill wheel. + +I yelled more orders than second mate on a coaster. Todd bubbled +and bellered. Lonesome hung on to the rail of the cockpit and let +his hair stand up to grow. Nobody was cool but Clarissa, and she +was an iceberg. She had her good p'ints, that old maid did, drat +her! + +"James," she calls, "get out of that water this minute and come +here! This instant, mind!" + +James minded. He paddled ashore and hopped, dripping like a +dishcloth, alongside the truck wagon. + +"Get in!" orders Skipper Clarissa. He done it. "Now," says the +lady, passing the reins over to me, "drive us home, Mr. Wingate, +before that intoxicated lunatic can catch us." + +It seemed about the only thing to do. I knew 'twas no use +explaining to Lonesome for an hour or more yet, even if you can +talk finger signs, which part of my college training has been +neglected. 'Twas murder he wanted at the present time. I had some +sort of a foggy notion that I'd drive along, pick up the guns and +then get the Todds over to the hotel, afterward coming back to get +the launch and pay damages to Huckleberries. I cal'lated he'd be +more reasonable by that time. + +But the mare had made other arrangements. When I slapped her with +the end of the reins she took the bit in her teeth and commenced to +gallop. I hollered "Whoa!" and "Heave to!" and "Belay!" and +everything else I could think of, but she never took in a reef. +We bumped over hummocks and ridges, and every time we done it we +spilled something out of that wagon. First 'twas a lot of +huckleberry pails, then a basket of groceries and such, then a tin +pan with some potatoes in it, then a jug done up in a blanket. We +was heaving cargo overboard like a leaky ship in a typhoon. Out of +the tail of my eye I see Lonesome, well out to sea, heading the +Greased Lightning for the beach. + +Clarissa put in the time soothing James, who had a serious case of +the scart-to-deaths, and calling me an "utter barbarian" for +driving so fast. Lucky for all hands, she had to hold on tight to +keep from being jounced out, 'long with the rest of movables, so +she couldn't take the reins. As for me, I wa'n't paying much +attention to her--'twas the Cut-Through that was disturbing MY +mind. + +When you drive down to Lonesome P'int you have to ford the "Cut- +Through." It's a strip of water between the bay and the ocean, and +'tain't very wide nor deep at low tide. But the tide was coming in +now, and, more'n that, the mare wa'n't headed for the ford. She +was cuttin' cross-lots on her own hook, and wouldn't answer the +helm. + +We struck that Cut-Through about a hundred yards east of the ford, +and in two shakes we was hub deep in salt water. 'Fore the Todds +could do anything but holler the wagon was afloat and the mare was +all but swimming. But she kept right on. Bless her, you COULDN'T +stop her! + +We crossed the first channel and come out on a flat where 'twasn't +more'n two foot deep then. I commenced to feel better. There was +another channel ahead of us, but I figured we'd navigate that same +as we had the first one. And then the most outrageous thing +happened. + +If you'll b'lieve it, that pesky mare balked and wouldn't stir +another step. + +And there we was! I punched and kicked and hollered, but all that +stubborn horse would do was lay her ears back flat, and snarl up +her lip, and look round at us, much as to say: "Now, then, you +land sharks, I've got you between wind and water!" And I swan to +man if it didn't look as if she had! + +"Drive on!" says Clarissa, pretty average vinegary. "Haven't you +made trouble enough for us already, you dreadful man? Drive on!" + +Hadn't _I_ made trouble enough! What do you think of that? + +"You want to drown us!" says Miss Todd, continuing her chatty +remarks. "I see it all! It's a plot between you and that +murderer. I give you warning; if we reach the hotel, my brother +and I will commence suit for damages." + +My temper's fairly long-suffering, but 'twas raveling some by this +time. + +"Commence suit!" I says. "I don't care WHAT you commence, if +you'll commence to keep quiet now!" And then I give her a few +p'ints as to what her brother had done, heaving in some personal +flatteries every once in a while for good measure. + +I'd about got to thirdly when James give a screech and p'inted. +And, if there wa'n't Lonesome in the launch, headed right for us, +and coming a-b'iling! He'd run her along abreast of the beach and +turned in at the upper end of the Cut-Through. + +You never in your life heard such a row as there was in that wagon. +Clarissa and me yelling to Lonesome to keep off--forgitting that he +was stone deef and dumb--and James vowing that he was going to be +slaughtered in cold blood. And the Greased Lightning p'inted just +so she'd split that cart amidships, and coming--well, you know how +she can go. + +She never budged until she was within ten foot of the flat, and +then she sheered off and went past in a wide curve, with Lonesome +steering with one hand and shaking his pitchfork at Todd with +t'other. And SUCH faces as he made-up! They'd have got him hung +in any court in the world. + +He run up the Cut-Through a little ways, and then come about, and +back he comes again, never slacking speed a mite, and running close +to the shoal as he could shave, and all the time going through the +bloodiest kind of pantomimes. And past he goes, to wheel 'round +and commence all over again. + +Thinks I, "Why don't he ease up and lay us aboard? He's got all +the weapons there is. Is he scart?" + +And then it come to me--the reason why. HE DIDN'T KNOW HOW TO STOP +HER. He could steer first rate, being used to sailboats, but an +electric auto launch was a new ideal for him, and he didn't +understand her works. And he dastn't run her aground at the speed +she was making; 'twould have finished her and, more'n likely, him, +too. + +I don't s'pose there ever was another mess just like it afore or +sence. Here was us, stranded with a horse we couldn't make go, +being chased by a feller who was run away with in a boat he +couldn't stop! + +Just as I'd about give up hope, I heard somebody calling from the +beach behind us. I turned, and there was Becky Huckleberries, +Lonesome's daughter. She had the dead decoys by the legs in one +hand. + +"Hi!" says she. + +"Hi!" says I. "How do you get this giraffe of yours under way?" + +She held up the decoys. + +"Who kill-a dem ducks?" says she. + +I p'inted to the reverend. "He did," says I. And then I cal'late +I must have had one of them things they call an inspiration. "And +he's willing to pay for 'em," I says. + +"Pay thirty-five dolla?" says she. + +"You bet!" says I. + +But I'd forgot Clarissa. She rose up in that waterlogged cart like +a Statue of Liberty. "Never!" says she. "We will never submit to +such extortion. We'll drown first!" + +Becky heard her. She didn't look disapp'inted nor nothing. Just +turned and begun to walk up the beach. "ALL right," says she; +"GOO'-by." + +The Todds stood it for a jiffy. Then James give in. "I'll pay +it!" he hollers. "I'll pay it!" + +Even then Becky didn't smile. She just come about again and walked +back to the shore. Then she took up that tin pan and one of the +potaters we'd jounced out of the cart. + +"Hi, Rosa!" she hollers. That mare turned her head and looked. +And, for the first time sence she hove anchor on that flat, the +critter unfurled her ears and histed 'em to the masthead. + +"Hi, Rosa!" says Becky again, and begun to pound the pan with the +potater. And I give you my word that that mare started up, turned +the wagon around nice as could be, and begun to swim ashore. When +we got where the critter's legs touched bottom, Becky remarks: +"Whoa!" + +"Here!" I yells, "what did you do that for?" + +"Pay thirty-five dolla NOW," says she. She was bus'ness, that +girl. + +Todd got his wallet from under hatches and counted out the thirty- +five, keeping one eye on Lonesome, who was swooping up and down in +the launch looking as if he wanted to cut in, but dasn't. I tied +the bills to my jack-knife, to give 'em weight, and tossed the +whole thing ashore. Becky, she counted the cash and stowed it away +in her apron pocket. + +"ALL right," says she. "Hi, Rosa!" The potater and pan +performance begun again, and Rosa picked up her hoofs and dragged +us to dry land. And it sartinly felt good to the feet. + +"Say," I says, "Becky, it's none of my affairs, as I know of, but +is that the way you usually start that horse of yours?" + +She said it was. And Rosa ate the potater. + +Becky asked me how to stop the launch, and I told her. She made a +lot of finger signs to Lonesome, and inside of five minutes the +Greased Lightning was anchored in front of us. Old man +Huckleberries was still hankering to interview Todd with the +pitchfork, but Becky settled that all right. She jumped in front +of him, and her eyes snapped and her feet stamped and her fingers +flew. And 'twould have done you good to see her dad shrivel up and +get humble. I always had thought that a woman wasn't much good as +a boss of the roost unless she could use her tongue, but Becky +showed me my mistake. Well, it's live and l'arn. + +Then Miss Huckleberries turned to us and smiled. + +"ALL right," says she; "GOO'-by." + +Them Todds took the train for the city next morning. I drove 'em +to the depot. James was kind of glum, but Clarissa talked for two. +Her opinion of the Cape and Capers, 'specially me, was decided. +The final blast was just as she was climbing the car steps. + +"Of all the barbarians," says she; "utter, uncouth, murdering +barbarians in--" + +She stopped, thinking for a word, I s'pose. I didn't feel that I +could improve on Becky Huckleberries conversation much, so I says: + +"ALL right! GOO'-by!" + + + + +THE MARK ON THE DOOR + + +One nice moonlight evening me and Cap'n Jonadab and Peter T., +having, for a wonder, a little time to ourselves and free from +boarders, was setting on the starboard end of the piazza, smoking, +when who should heave in sight but Cap'n Eri Hedge and Obed +Nickerson. They'd come over from Orham that day on some fish +business and had drove down to Wellmouth Port on purpose to put up +at the Old Home for the night and shake hands with me and Jonadab. +We was mighty glad to see 'em, now I tell you. + +They'd had supper up at the fish man's at the Centre, so after +Peter T. had gone in and fetched out a handful of cigars, we +settled back for a good talk. They wanted to know how business was +and we told 'em. After a spell somebody mentioned the Todds and I +spun my yarn about the balky mare and the Greased Lightning. It +tickled 'em most to death, especially Obed. + +"Ho, ho!" says he. "That's funny, ain't it. Them power boats are +great things, ain't they. I had an experience in one--or, rather, +in two--a spell ago when I was living over to West Bayport. My +doings was with gasoline though, not electricity. 'Twas something +of an experience. Maybe you'd like to hear it." + +"'Way I come to be over there on the bay side of the Cape was like +this. West Bayport, where my shanty and the big Davidson summer +place and the Saunders' house was, used to be called Punkhassett-- +which is Injun for 'The last place the Almighty made'--and if +you've read the circulars of the land company that's booming +Punkhassett this year, you'll remember that the principal +attraction of them diggings is the 'magnificent water privileges.' +'Twas the water privileges that had hooked me. Clams was thick on +the flats at low tide, and fish was middling plenty in the bay. I +had two weirs set; one a deep-water weir, a half mile beyond the +bar, and t'other just inside of it that I could drive out to at low +water. A two-mile drive 'twas, too; the tide goes out a long ways +over there. I had a powerboat--seven and a half power gasoline-- +that I kept anchored back of my nighest-in weir in deep water, and +a little skiff on shore to row off to her in. + +"The yarn begins one morning when I went down to the shore after +clams. I'd noticed the signs then. They was stuck up right acrost +the path: 'No trespassing on these premises,' and 'All persons are +forbidden crossing this property, under penalty of the law.' But +land! I'd used that short-cut ever sence I'd been in Bayport--which +was more'n a year--and old man Davidson and me was good friends, so +I cal'lated the signs was intended for boys, and hove ahead without +paying much attention to 'em. 'Course I knew that the old man-- +and, what was more important, the old lady--had gone abroad and +that the son was expected down, but that didn't come to me at the +time, neither. + +"I was heading for home about eight, with two big dreeners full of +clams, and had just climbed the bluff and swung over the fence into +the path, when somebody remarks: 'Here, you!' I jumped and turned +round, and there, beating across the field in my direction, was an +exhibit which, it turned out later, was ticketed with the name of +Alpheus Vandergraff Parker Davidson--'Allie' for short. + +"And Allie was a good deal of an exhibit, in his way. His togs +were cut to fit his spars, and he carried 'em well--no wrinkles at +the peak or sag along the boom. His figurehead was more'n average +regular, and his hair was combed real nice--the part in the middle +of it looked like it had been laid out with a plumb-line. Also, he +had on white shoes and glory hallelujah stockings. Altogether, he +was alone with the price of admission, and what some folks, I +s'pose, would have called a handsome enough young feller. But I +didn't like his eyes; they looked kind of tired, as if they'd seen +'bout all there was to see of some kinds of life. Twenty-four year +old eyes hadn't ought to look that way. + +"But I wasn't interested in eyes jest then. All I could look at +was teeth. There they was, a lovely set of 'em, in the mouth of +the ugliest specimen of a bow-legged bulldog that ever tried to +hang itself at the end of a chain. Allie was holding t'other end +of the chain with both hands, and they were full, at that. The dog +stood up on his hind legs and pawed the air with his front ones, +and his tongue hung out and dripped. You could see he was +yearning, just dying, to taste of a middle-aged longshoreman by the +name of Obed Nickerson. I stared at the dog, and he stared at me. +I don't know which of us was the most interested. + +"'Here, you!' says Allie again. 'What are you crossing this field +for?' + +"I heard him, but I was too busy counting teeth to pay much +attention. 'You ought to feed that dog,' I says, absent-minded +like. 'He's hungry.' + +"'Humph!' says he. 'Well, maybe he'll be fed in a minute. Did you +see those signs?' + +"'Yes,' says I; 'I saw 'em. They're real neat and pretty.' + +"'Pretty!' He fairly choked, he was so mad. 'Why, you cheeky, +long-legged jay,' he says, 'I'll-- What are you crossing this +field for?' + +"'So's to get to t'other side of it, I guess,' says I. I was +riling up a bit myself. You see, when a feller's been mate of a +schooner, like I've been in my day, it don't come easy to be called +names. It looked for a minute as if Allie was going to have a fit, +but he choked it down. + +"'Look here!' he says. 'I know who you are. Just because the +gov'ner has been soft enough to let you countrymen walk all over +him, it don't foller that I'm going to be. I'm boss here for this +summer. My name's--' He told me his name, and how his dad had +turned the place over to him for the season, and a lot more. 'I +put those signs up,' he says, 'to keep just such fellers as you are +off my property. They mean that you ain't to cross the field. +Understand?' + +"I understood. I was mad clean through, but I'm law-abiding, +generally speaking. 'All right,' I says, picking up my dreeners +and starting for the farther fence; 'I won't cross it again.' + +"'You won't cross it now,' says he. 'Go back where you come from.' + +"That was a grain too much. I told him a few things. He didn't +wait for the benediction. 'Take him, Prince!' he says, dropping +the chain. + +"Prince was willing. He fetched a kind of combination hurrah and +growl and let out for me full-tilt. I don't feed good fresh clams +to dogs as a usual thing, but that mouth HAD to be filled. I +waited till he was almost on me, and then I let drive with one of +the dreeners. Prince and a couple of pecks of clams went up in the +air like a busted bomb-shell, and I broke for the fence I'd started +for. I hung on to the other dreener, though, just out of +principle. + +"But I had to let go of it, after all. The dog come out of the +collision looking like a plate of scrambled eggs, and took after me +harder'n ever, shedding shells and clam juice something scandalous. +When he was right at my heels I turned and fired the second +dreener. And, by Judas, I missed him! + +"Well, principle's all right, but there's times when even the best +of us has to hedge. I simply couldn't reach the farther fence, so +I made a quick jibe and put for the one behind me. And I couldn't +make that, either. Prince was taking mouthfuls of my overalls for +appetizers. There was a little pine-tree in the lot, and I give +one jump and landed in the middle of it. I went up the rest of the +way like I'd forgot something, and then I clung onto the top of +that tree and panted and swung round in circles, while the dog +hopped up and down on his hind legs and fairly sobbed with +disapp'intment. + +"Allie was rolling on the grass. 'Oh, DEAR me!' says he, between +spasms. 'That was the funniest thing I ever saw.' + +"I'd seen lots funnier things myself, but 'twa'n't worth while to +argue. Besides, I was busy hanging onto that tree. 'Twas an awful +little pine and the bendiest one I ever climbed. Allie rolled +around a while longer, and then he gets up and comes over. + +"'Well, Reuben,' says he, lookin' up at me on the roost, 'you're a +good deal handsomer up there than you are on the ground. I guess +I'll let you stay there for a while as a lesson to you. Watch him, +Prince.' And off he walks. + +"'You everlasting clothes-pole,' I yells after him, 'if it wa'n't +for that dog of yours I'd--' + +"He turns around kind of lazy and says he: 'Oh, you've got no kick +coming,' he says. 'I allow you to--er--ornament my tree, and +'tain't every hayseed I'd let do that.' + +"And away he goes; and for an hour that had no less'n sixty +thousand minutes in it I clung to that tree like a green apple, +with Prince setting open-mouthed underneath waiting for me to get +ripe and drop. + +"Just as I was figgering that I was growing fast to the limb, I +heard somebody calling my name. I unglued my eyes from the dog and +looked up, and there, looking over the fence that I'd tried so hard +to reach, was Barbara Saunders, Cap'n Eben Saunders' girl, who +lived in the house next door to mine. + +"Barbara was always a pretty girl, and that morning she looked +prettier than ever, with her black hair blowing every which way and +her black eyes snapping full of laugh. Barbara Saunders in a white +shirt-waist and an old, mended skirt could give ten lengths in a +beauty race to any craft in silks and satins that ever _I_ see, and +beat 'em hull down at that. + +"'Why, Mr. Nickerson!' she calls. 'What are you doing up in that +tree?' + +"That was kind of a puzzler to answer offhand, and I don't know +what I'd have said if friend Allie hadn't hove in sight just then +and saved me the trouble. He come strolling out of the woods with +a cigarette in his mouth, and when he saw Barbara he stopped short +and looked and looked at her. And for a minute she looked at him, +and the red come up in her cheeks like a sunrise. + +"'Beg pardon, I'm sure,' says Allie, tossing away the cigarette. +'May I ask if that--er--deep-sea gentleman in my tree is a friend +of yours?' + +"Barbara kind of laughed and dropped her eyes, and said why, yes, I +was. + +"'By Jove! he's luckier than I thought,' says Allie, never taking +his eyes from her face. 'And what do they call him, please, when +they want him to answer?' That's what he asked, though, mind you, +he'd said he knew who I was when he first saw me. + +"'It's Mr. Nickerson,' says Barbara. 'He lives in that house +there. The one this side of ours.' + +"'Oh, a neighbor! That's different. Awfully sorry, I'm sure. +Prince, come here. Er--Nickerson, for the lady's sake we'll call +it off. You may--er--vacate the perch.' + +"I waited till he'd got a clove-hitch onto Prince. He had to give +him one or two welts over the head 'fore he could do it; the dog +acted like he'd been cheated. Then I pried myself loose from that +blessed limb and shinned down to solid ground. My! but I was +b'iling inside. 'Taint pleasant to be made a show afore folks, but +'twas the feller's condescending what-excuse-you-got-for-living +manners that riled me most. + +"I picked up what was left of the dreeners and walked over to the +fence. That field was just sowed, as you might say, with clams. +If they ever sprouted 'twould make a tip-top codfish pasture. + +"'You see,' says Allie, talking to Barbara; 'the gov'nor told me +he'd been plagued with trespassers, so I thought I'd give 'em a +lesson. But neighbors, when they're scarce as ours are, ought to be +friends. Don't you think so, Miss--? Er--Nickerson,' says he, +'introduce me to our other neighbor.' + +"So I had to do it, though I didn't want to. He turned loose some +soft soap about not realizing afore what a beautiful place the Cape +was. I thought 'twas time to go. + +"'But Miss Saunders hasn't answered my question yet,' says Allie. +'Don't YOU think neighbors ought to be friends, Miss Saunders?' + +"Barbara blushed and laughed and said she guessed they had. Then +she walked away. I started to follow, but Allie stopped me. + +"'Look here, Nickerson,' says he. 'I let you off this time, but +don't try it again; do you hear?' + +"'I hear,' says I. 'You and that hyena of yours have had all the +fun this morning. Some day, maybe, the boot'll be on t'other leg.' + +"Barbara was waiting for me. We walked on together without +speaking for a minute. Then I says, to myself like: 'So that's +old man Davidson's son, is it? Well, he's the prize peach in the +crate, he is!' + +"Barbara was thinking, too. 'He's very nice looking, isn't he?' +says she. 'Twas what you'd expect a girl to say, but I hated to +hear her say it. I went home and marked a big chalk-mark on the +inside of my shanty door, signifying that I had a debt so pay some +time or other. + +"So that's how I got acquainted with Allie V. P. Davidson. And, +what's full as important, that's how he got acquainted with Barbara +Saunders. + +"Shutting an innocent canary-bird up in the same room with a +healthy cat is a more or less risky proposition for the bird. Same +way, if you take a pretty country girl who's been to sea with her +dad most of the time and tied to the apron-strings of a deef old +aunt in a house three miles from nowhere--you take that girl, I +say, and then fetch along, as next-door neighbor, a good-looking +young shark like Allie, with a hogshead of money and a blame sight +too much experience, and that's a risky proposition for the girl. + +"Allie played his cards well; he'd set into a good many similar +games afore, I judge. He begun by doing little favors for Phoebe +Ann--she was the deef aunt I mentioned--and 'twa'n't long afore he +was as solid with the old lady as a kedge-anchor. He had a way of +dropping into the Saunders house for a drink of water or a slab of +'that delicious apple-pie,' and with every drop he got better +acquainted with Barbara. Cap'n Eben was on a v'yage to Buenos +Ayres and wouldn't be home till fall, 'twa'n't likely. + +"I didn't see a great deal of what was going on, being too busy +with my fishweirs and clamming to notice. Allie and me wa'n't +exactly David and Jonathan, owing, I judge, to our informal +introduction to each other. But I used to see him scooting 'round +in his launch--twenty-five foot, she was, with a little mahogany +cabin and the land knows what--and the servants at the big house +told me yarns about his owning a big steam-yacht, with a sailing- +master and crew, which was cruising round Newport somewheres. + +"But, busy as I was, I see enough to make me worried. There was a +good deal of whispering over the Saunders back gate after supper, +and once, when I come up over the bluff from the shore sudden, they +was sitting together on a rock and he had his arm round her waist. +I dropped a hint to Phoebe Ann, but she shut me up quicker'n a +snap-hinge match-box. Allie had charmed 'auntie' all right. And +so it drifted along till September. + +"One Monday evening about the middle of the month I went over to +Phoebe Ann's to borrow some matches. Barbara wasn't in--gone out +to lock up the hens, or some such fool excuse. But Phoebe was +busting full of joy. Cap'n Eben had arrived in New York a good +deal sooner'n was expected and would be home on Thursday morning. + +"'He's going from Boston to Provincetown on the steamer, +Wednesday,' says Phoebe. 'He's got some business over there. Then +he's coming home from Provincetown on the early train. Ain't that +splendid?' + +"I thought 'twas splendid for more reasons than one, and I went out +feeling good. But as I come round the corner of the house there +was somebody by the back gate, and I heard a girl's voice sayin': +'Oh, no, no! I can't! I can't!' + +"If I hadn't trod on a stick maybe I'd have heard more, but the +racket broke up the party. Barbara come hurrying past me into the +house, and by the light from the back door, I see her face. 'Twas +white as a clam-shell, and she looked frightened to death. + +"Thinks I: 'That's funny! It's a providence Eben's coming home so +soon.' + +"And the next day I saw her again, and she was just as white and +wouldn't look me in the eye. Wednesday, though, I felt better, for +the servants on the Davidson place told me that Allie had gone to +Boston on the morning train to be gone for good, and that they was +going to shut up the house and haul up the launch in a day or so. + +"Early that afternoon, as I was coming from my shanty to the bluff +on my way to the shore after dinner, I noticed a steam-yacht at +anchor two mile or so off the bar. She must have come there sence +I got in, and I wondered whose she was. Then I see a dingey with +three men aboard rowing in, and I walked down the beach to meet +'em. + +"Sometimes I think there is such things as what old Parson Danvers +used to call 'dispensations.' This was one of 'em. There was a +feller in a uniform cap steering the dingey, and, b'lieve it or +not, I'll be everlastingly keelhauled if he didn't turn out to be +Ben Henry, who was second mate with me on the old Seafoam. He was +surprised enough to see me, and glad, too, but he looked sort of +worried. + +"'Well, Ben,' says I, after we had shook hands, 'well, Ben,' I +says, 'my shanty ain't exactly the United States Hotel for gilt +paint and bill of fare, but I HAVE got eight or ten gallons of +home-made cherry rum and some terbacker and an extry pipe. You +fall into my wake.' + +"'I'd like to, Obed,' he says; 'I'd like to almighty well, but I've +got to go up to the store, if there is such a thing in this +metropolus, and buy some stuff that I forgot to get in Newport. +You see, we got orders to sail in a tearing hurry, and--' + +"'Send one of them fo'mast hands to the store,' says I. 'You got +to come with me.' + +"He hemmed and hawed a while, but he was dry, and I shook the +cherry-rum jug at him, figuratively speaking, so finally he give +in. + +"'You buy so and so,' says he to his men, passing 'em a ten-dollar +bill. 'And mind, you don't know nothing. If anybody asks, +remember that yacht's the Mermaid--M-U-R-M-A-D-E,' he says, 'and +she belongs to Mr. Jones, of Mobile, Georgia.' + +"So the men went away, and me and Ben headed for my shanty, where +we moored abreast of each other at the table, with a jug between us +for a buoy, so's to speak. We talked old times and spun yarns, and +the tide went out in the jug consider'ble sight faster than 'twas +ebbing on the flats. After a spell I asked him about the man that +owned the yacht. + +"'Who? Oh--er--Brown?' he says. 'Why, he's--' + +"'Brown?' says I. 'Thought you said 'twas Jones?' + +"Well, that kind of upset him, and he took some cherry-rum to +grease his memory. Then I asked more questions and he tried to +answer 'em, and got worse tangled than ever. Finally I had to +laugh. + +"'Look here, Ben,' says I. 'You can't fetch port on that tack. +The truth's ten mile astern of you. Who does own that yacht, +anyway?' + +"He looked at me mighty solemn--cherry-rum solemn. 'Obed,' he +says, 'you're a good feller. Don't you give me away, now, or I'll +lose my berth. The man that owns that yacht's named Davidson, and +he's got a summer place right in this town.' + +"'Davidson!' says I. 'DAVIDSON? Not young Allie Davidson?' + +"'That's him,' says he. 'And he's the blankety blankest meanest +low-down cub on earth. There! I feel some better. Give me +another drink to take the taste of him out of my mouth.' + +"'But young Davidson's gone to Boston,' I says. 'Went this +morning.' + +"'That be hanged!' says Ben. 'All I know is that I got a despatch +from him at Newport on Monday afternoon, telling me to have the +yacht abreast this town at twelve o'clock to-night, 'cause he was +coming off to her then in his launch with a friend. Friend!' And +he laughed and winked his starboard eye. + +"I didn't say much, being too busy thinking, but Ben went on +telling about other cruises with 'friends.' Oh, a steam-yacht can +be a first-class imitation of hell if the right imp owns her. +Henry got speaking of one time down along the Maine coast. + +"'But,' says I, referring to what he was telling, 'if she was such +a nice girl and come from such nice folks, how--' + +"'How do I know?' says he. 'Promises to marry and such kind of +lies, I s'pose. And the plain fact is that he's really engaged to +marry a swell girl in Newport.' + +"He told me her name and a lot more about her. I tried to remember +the most of it, but my head was whirling--and not from cherry rum, +either. All I could think was: 'Obed, it's up to you! You've got +to do something.' + +"I was mighty glad when the sailors hailed from the shore and Ben +had to go. He 'most cried when he said good-by, and went away +stepping high and bringing his heels down hard. I watched the +dingey row off--the tide was out, so there was barely water for her +to get clear--and then I went back home to think. And I thought +all the afternoon. + +"Two and two made four, anyway I could add it up, but 'twas all +suspicion and no real proof, that was the dickens of it. I +couldn't speak to Phoebe Ann; she wouldn't b'lieve me if I did. +I couldn't telegraph Cap'n Eben at Provincetown to come home that +night; I'd have to tell him the whole thing and I knew his temper, +so, for Barbara's sake, 'twouldn't do. I couldn't be at the shore +to stop the launch leaving. What right had I to stop another man's +launch, even-- + +"No, 'twas up to me, and I thought and thought till after supper- +time. And then I had a plan--a risky chance, but a chance, just +the same. I went up to the store and bought four feet of medium- +size rubber hose and some rubber tape, same as they sell to bicycle +fellers in the summer. 'Twas almost dark when I got back in sight +of my shanty, and instead of going to it I jumped that board fence +that me and Prince had negotiated for, hustled along the path past +the notice boards, and went down the bluff on t'other side of +Davidson's p'int. And there in the deep hole by the end of the +little pier, out of sight of the house on shore, was Allie's +launch. By what little light there was left I could see the brass +rails shining. + +"But I didn't stop to admire 'em. I give one look around. Nobody +was in sight. Then I ran down the pier and jumped aboard. Almost +the first thing I put my hand on was what I was looking for--the +bilge-pump. 'Twas a small affair, that you could lug around in one +hand, but mighty handy for keeping a boat of that kind dry. + +"I fitted one end of my hose to the lower end of that pump and +wrapped rubber tape around the j'int till she sucked when I tried +her over the side. Then I turned on the cocks in the gasoline +pipes fore and aft, and noticed that the carbureter feed cup was +chock full. Then I was ready for business. + +"I went for'ard, climbing over the little low cabin that was just +big enough for a man to crawl into, till I reached the brass cap in +the deck over the gasoline-tank. Then I unscrewed the cap, run my +hose down into the tank, and commenced to pump good fourteen-cents- +a-gallon gasoline overboard to beat the cars. 'Twas a thirty- +gallon tank, and full up. I begun to think I'd never get her +empty, but I did, finally. I pumped her dry. Then I screwed the +cap on again and went home, taking Allie's bilge-pump with me, for +I couldn't stop to unship the hose. The tide was coming in fast. + +"At nine o'clock that night I was in my skiff, rowing off to where +my power-boat laid in deep water back of the bar. When I reached +her I made the skiff fast astern, lit a lantern, which I put in a +locker under a thwart, and set still in the pitch-dark, smoking and +waiting. + +"'Twas a long, wearisome wait. There was a no'thwest wind coming +up, and the waves were running pretty choppy on the bar. All I +could think of was that gasoline. Was there enough in the pipes +and the feed cup on that launch to carry her out to where I was? +Or was there too much, and would she make the yacht, after all? + +"It got to be eleven o'clock. Tide was full at twelve. I was a +pretty good candidate for the crazy house by this time. I'd +listened till my ear-drums felt slack, like they needed reefing. +And then at last I heard her coming--CHUFF-chuff! CHUFF-chuff! +CHUFF-chuff! + +"And HOW she did come! She walked up abreast of me, went past me, +a hundred yards or so off. Thinks I: 'It's all up. He's going to +make it.' + +"And then, all at once, the 'chuff-chuff-ing' stopped. Started up +and stopped again. I gave a hurrah, in my mind, pulled the skiff +up alongside and jumped into her, taking the lantern with me, under +my coat. Then I set the light between my feet, picked up the oars +and started rowing. + +"I rowed quiet as I could, but he heard me 'fore I got to him. I +heard a scrambling noise off ahead, and then a shaky voice hollers: +'Hello! who's that?' + +"'It's me,' says I, rowing harder'n ever. 'Who are you? What's +the row?' + +"There was more scrambling and a slam, like a door shutting. In +another two minutes I was alongside the launch and held up my +lantern. Allie was there, fussing with his engine. And he was all +alone. + +"Alone he was, I say, fur's a body could see, but he was mighty +shaky and frightened. Also, 'side of him, on the cushions, was a +girl's jacket, and I thought I'd seen that jacket afore. + +"'Hello!' says I. 'Is that you, Mr. Davidson? Thought you'd gone +to Boston?' + +"'Changed my mind,' he says. 'Got any gasoline?' + +"'What you doing off here this time of night?' I says. + +"'Going out to my--' He stopped. I s'pose the truth choked him. +'I was going to Provincetown,' he went on. 'Got any gasoline?' + +"'What in the nation you starting to Provincetown in the middle of +the night for?' I asks, innocent as could be. + +"'Oh, thunder! I had business there, that's all. GOT ANY +GASOLINE?' + +"I made my skiff's painter fast to a cleat on the launch and +climbed aboard. 'Gasoline?' says I. 'Gasoline? Why, yes; I've +got some gasoline over on my power-boat out yonder. Has yours give +out? I should think you'd filled your tank 'fore you left home on +such a trip as Provincetown. Maybe the pipe's plugged or +something. Have you looked?' And I caught hold of the handle of +the cabin-door. + +"He jumped and grabbed me by the arm. ''Tain't plugged,' he yells, +sharp. 'The tank's empty, I tell you.' + +"He kept pulling me away from the cabin, but I hung onto the +handle. + +"'You can't be too sure,' I says. 'This door's locked. Give me +the key.' + +"'I--I left the key at home,' he says. 'Don't waste time. Go over +to your boat and fetch me some gasoline. I'll pay you well for +it.' + +"Then I was sartin of what I suspicioned. The cabin was locked, +but not with the key. THAT was in the keyhole. The door was +bolted ON THE INSIDE. + +"'All right,' says I. 'I'll sell you the gasoline, but you'll have +to go with me in the skiff to get it. Get your anchor over or this +craft'll drift to Eastham. Hurry up.' + +"He didn't like the idee of leaving the launch, but I wouldn't hear +of anything else. While he was heaving the anchor I commenced to +talk to him. + +"'I didn't know but what you'd started for foreign parts to meet +that Newport girl you're going to marry,' I says, and I spoke good +and loud. + +"He jumped so I thought he'd fall overboard. + +"'What's that?' he shouts. + +"'Why, that girl you're engaged to,' says I. 'Miss--' and I yelled +her name, and how she'd gone abroad with his folks, and all. + +"'Shut up!' he whispers, waving his hands, frantic. 'Don't stop to +lie. Hurry up!' + +"''Tain't a lie. Oh, I know about it!' I hollers, as if he was +deef. I meant to be heard--by him and anybody else that might be +interested. I give a whole lot more partic'lars, too. He fairly +shoved me into the skiff, after a spell. + +"'Now,' he says, so mad he could hardly speak, 'stop your lying and +row, will you!' + +"I was willing to row then. I cal'lated I'd done some missionary +work by this time. Allie's guns was spiked, if I knew Barbara +Saunders. I p'inted the skiff the way she'd ought to go and laid +to the oars. + +"My plan had been to get him aboard the skiff and row somewheres-- +ashore, if I could. But 'twas otherwise laid out for me. The wind +was blowing pretty fresh, and the skiff was down by the stern, so's +the waves kept knocking her nose round. 'Twas dark'n a pocket, +too. I couldn't tell where I WAS going. + +"Allie got more fidgety every minute. 'Ain't we 'most there?' he +asks. And then he gives a screech. 'What's that ahead?' + +"I turned to see, and as I done it the skiff's bow slid up on +something. I give an awful yank at the port oar; she slewed and +tilted; a wave caught her underneath, and the next thing I knew me +and Allie and the skiff was under water, bound for the bottom. +We'd run acrost one of the guy-ropes of my fish-weir. + +"This wa'n't in the program. I hit sand with a bump and pawed up +for air. When I got my head out I see a water-wheel doing business +close along-side of me. It was Allie. + +"'Help!' he howls. 'Help! I'm drowning!' + +"I got him by the collar, took one stroke and bumped against the +weir-nets. You know what a fish-weir's like, don't you, Mr. +Brown?--a kind of pound, made of nets hung on ropes between poles. + +"'Help!' yells Allie, clawing the nets. 'I can't swim in rough +water!' + +"You might have known he couldn't. It looked sort of dubious for a +jiffy. Then I had an idee. I dragged him to the nighest weir- +pole. 'Climb!' I hollers in his ear. 'Climb that pole.' + +"He done it, somehow, digging his toes into the net and going up +like a cat up a tree. When he got to the top he hung acrost the +rope and shook. + +"'Hang on there!' says I. 'I'm going after the boat.' And I +struck out. He yelled to me not to leave him, but the weir had +give me my bearings, and I was bound for my power-boat. 'Twas a +tough swim, but I made it, and climbed aboard, not feeling any too +happy. Losing a good skiff was more'n I'd figgered on. + +"Soon's I got some breath I hauled anchor, started up my engine and +headed back for the weir. I run along-side of it, keeping a good +lookout for guy-ropes, and when I got abreast of that particular +pole I looked for Allie. He was setting on the rope, a-straddle of +the pole, and hanging onto the top of it like it owed him money. +He looked a good deal more comfortable than I was when he and +Prince had treed me. And the remembrance of that time come back to +me, and one of them things they call inspiration come with it. He +was four feet above water, 'twas full tide then, and if he set +still he was safe as a church. + +"So instead of running in after him, I slowed 'way down and backed +off. + +"'Come here!' he yells. 'Come here, you fool, and take me aboard.' + +"'Oh, I don't know,' says I. 'You're safe there, and, even if the +yacht folks don't come hunting for you by and by--which I cal'late +they will--the tide'll be low enough in five hours or so, so's you +can walk ashore.' + +"'What--what do you mean?' he says. 'Ain't you goin' to take me +off?' + +"'I was,' says I, 'but I've changed my plans. And, Mr. Allie +Vander-what's-your-name Davidson, there's other things--low-down, +mean things--planned for this night that ain't going to come off, +either. Understand that, do you?' + +"He understood, I guess. He didn't answer at all. Only gurgled, +like he'd swallered something the wrong way. + +"Then the beautiful tit for tat of the whole business come to me, +and I couldn't help rubbing it in a little. 'As a sartin +acquaintance of mine once said to me,' I says, 'you look a good +deal handsomer up there than you do in a boat.' + +"'You--you--etcetery and so forth, continued in our next!' says he, +or words to that effect. + +"'That's all right,' says I, putting on the power. 'You've got no +kick coming. I allow you to--er--ornament my weir-pole, and +'tain't every dude I'd let do that.' + +"And I went away and, as the Fifth Reader used to say, 'let him +alone in his glory.' + +"I went back to the launch, pulled up her anchor and took her in +tow. I towed her in to her pier, made her fast and then left her +for a while. When I come back the little cabin-door was open and +the girl's jacket was gone. + +"Then I walked up the path to the Saunders house and it done me +good to see a light in Barbara's window. I set on the steps of +that house until morning keeping watch. And in the morning the +yacht was gone and the weir-pole was vacant, and Cap'n Eben +Saunders come on the first train. + +"So's that's all there is of it. Allie hasn't come back to Bayport +sence, and the last I heard he'd married that Newport girl; she has +my sympathy, if that's any comfort to her. + +"And Barbara? Well, for a long time she'd turn white every time I +met her. But, of course, I kept my mouth shut, and she went to sea +next v'yage with her dad. And now I hear she's engaged to a nice +feller up to Boston. + +"Oh, yes--one thing more. When I got back to my shanty that +morning I wiped the chalkmark off the door. I kind of figgered +that I'd paid that debt, with back interest added." + + + + +THE LOVE OF LOBELIA 'ANKINS + + +Obed's yarn being done, and friend Davidson done too, and brown at +that, Peter T. passed around another relay of cigars and we lit up. +'Twas Cap'n Eri that spoke first. + +"Love's a queer disease, anyway," says he. "Ain't it, now? +'Twould puzzle you and me to figger out what that Saunders girl see +to like in the Davidson critter. It must be a dreadful responsible +thing to be so fascinating. I never felt that responsibleness but +once--except when I got married, of course--and that was a good +many years ago, when I was going to sea on long v'yages, and was +cruising around the East Indies, in the latitude of our new +troubles, the Philippines. + +"I put in about three months on one of them little coral islands +off that way once. Hottest corner in the Lord's creation, I +cal'late, and the laziest and sleepiest hole ever I struck. All a +feller feels like doing in them islands is just to lay on his back +under a palm tree all day and eat custard-apples, and such truck. + +"Way I come to be there was like this: I was fo'mast hand on a +Boston hooker bound to Singapore after rice. The skipper's name +was Perkins, Malachi C. Perkins, and he was the meanest man that +ever wore a sou'-wester. I've had the pleasure of telling him so +sence--'twas in Surinam 'long in '72. Well, anyhow, Perkins fed us +on spiled salt junk and wormy hard-tack all the way out, and if a +feller dast to hint that the same wa'n't precisely what you'd call +Parker House fare, why the skipper would knock him down with a +marline-spike and the first mate would kick him up and down the +deck. 'Twan't a pretty performance to look at, but it beat the +world for taking the craving for fancy cooking out of a man. + +"Well, when I got to Singapore I was nothing but skin and bone, and +considerable of the skin had been knocked off by the marline-spike +and the mate's boots. I'd shipped for the v'yage out and back, but +the first night in port I slipped over the side, swum ashore, and +never set eyes on old Perkins again till that time in Surinam, +years afterward. + +"I knocked round them Singapore docks for much as a month, hoping +to get a berth on some other ship, but 'twan't no go. I fell in +with a Britisher named Hammond, 'Ammond, he called it, and as he +was on the same hunt that I was, we kept each other comp'ny. We +done odd jobs now 'n' again, and slept in sailors' lodging houses +when we had the price, and under bridges or on hemp bales when we +hadn't. I was too proud to write home for money, and Hammond +didn't have no home to write to, I cal'late. + +"But luck 'll turn if you give it time enough. One night Hammond +come hurrying round to my sleeping-room--that is to say, my hemp +bale--and gives me a shake, and says he: + +"'Turn out, you mud 'ead, I've got you a berth.' + +"'Aw, go west!' says I, and turned over to go to sleep again. But +he pulled me off the bale by the leg, and that woke me up so I +sensed what he was saying. Seems he'd found a feller that wanted +to ship a couple of fo'mast hands on a little trading schooner for +a trip over to the Java Sea. + +"Well, to make a long story short, we shipped with this feller, +whose name was Lazarus. I cal'late if the Lazarus in Scriptur' had +been up to as many tricks and had come as nigh being a thief as our +Lazarus was, he wouldn't have been so poor. Ourn was a shrewd +rascal and nothing more nor less than a pearl poacher. He didn't +tell us that till after we sot sail, but we was so desperate I +don't know as 'twould have made much diff'rence if he had. + +"We cruised round for a spell, sort of prospecting, and then we +landed at a little one-horse coral island, where there wa'n't no +inhabitants, but where we was pretty dead sartin there was pearl +oyster banks in the lagoon. There was five of us on the schooner, +a Dutchman named Rhinelander, a Coolie cook and Lazarus and Hammond +and me. We put up a slab shanty on shore and went to work pearl +fishing, keeping one eye out for Dutch gunboats, and always having +a sago palm ready to split open so's, if we got caught, we could +say we was after sago. + +"Well, we done fairly good at the pearl fishing; got together quite +a likely mess of pearls, and, as 'twas part of the agreement that +the crew had a certain share in the stake, why, Hammond and me was +figgering that we was going to make enough to more'n pay us for our +long spell of starving at Singapore. Lazarus was feeling purty +middling chipper, the cook was feeding us high, and everything +looked lovely. + +"Rhinelander and the Coolie and the skipper used to sleep aboard +the boat, but Hammond and me liked to sleep ashore in the shanty. +For one thing, the bunks on the schooner wa'n't none too clean, and +the Coolie snored so that he'd shake the whole cabin, and start me +dreaming about cyclones, and cannons firing, and lions roaring, and +all kind of foolishness. I always did hate a snorer. + +"One morning me and Hammond come out of the shanty, and, lo and +behold you! there wa'n't no schooner to be seen. That everlasting +Lazarus had put up a job on us, and had sneaked off in the night +with the cook and the Dutchman, and took our share of the pearls +with him. I s'pose he'd cal'lated to do it from the very first. +Anyway, there we was, marooned on that little two-for-a-cent +island. + +"The first day we didn't do much but cuss Lazarus up hill and down +dale. Hammond was the best at that kind of business ever I see. +He invented more'n four hundred new kind of names for the gang on +the schooner, and every one of 'em was brimstone-blue. We had fish +lines in the shanty, and there was plenty of water on the island, +so we knew we wouldn't starve to death nor die of thirst, anyhow. + +"I've mentioned that 'twas hot in them parts? Well, that island +was the hottest of 'em all. Whew! Don't talk! And, more'n that, +the weather was the kind that makes you feel it's a barrel of work +to live. First day we fished and slept. Next day we fished less +and slept more. Third day 'twas too everlasting hot even to sleep, +so we set round in the shade and fought flies and jawed each other. +Main trouble was who was goin' to git the meals. Land, how we did +miss that Coolie cook! + +"'W'y don't yer get to work and cook something fit to heat?' says +Hammond. ''Ere I broke my bloomin' back 'auling in the fish, and +you doing nothing but 'anging around and letting 'em dry hup in the +'eat. Get to work and cook. Blimed if I ain't sick of these 'ere +custard apples!' + +"'Go and cook yourself,' says I. 'I didn't sign articles to be +cook for no Johnny Bull!' + +"Well, we jawed back and forth for an hour, maybe more. Two or +three times we got up to have it out, but 'twas too hot to fight, +so we set down again. Fin'lly we eat some supper, custard apples +and water, and turned in. + +"But 'twas too hot to sleep much, and I got up about three o'clock +in the morning and went out and set down on the beach in the +moonlight. Pretty soon out comes Hammond and sets down alongside +and begins to give the weather a general overhauling, callin' it +everything he could lay tongue to. Pretty soon he breaks off in +the middle of a nine-j'inted swear word and sings out: + +"'Am I goin' crazy, or is that a schooner?' + +"I looked out into the moonlight, and there, sure enough, was a +schooner, about a mile off the island, and coming dead on. First- +off we thought 'twas Lazarus coming back, but pretty soon we see +'twas a considerable smaller boat than his. + +"We forgot all about how hot it was and hustled out on the reef +right at the mouth of the lagoon. I had a coat on a stick, and I +waved it for a signal, and Hammond set to work building a bonfire. +He got a noble one blazing and then him and me stood and watched +the schooner. + +"She was acting dreadful queer. First she'd go ahead on one tack +and then give a heave over and come about with a bang, sails +flapping and everything of a shake; then she'd give another slat +and go off another way; but mainly she kept right on toward the +island. + +"'W'at's the matter aboard there?' says Hammond. 'Is hall 'ands +drunk?' + +"'She's abandoned,' says I. 'That's what's the matter. There +ain't NOBODY aboard of her.' + +"Then we both says, 'Salvage!' and shook hands. + +"The schooner came nearer and nearer. It begun to look as if she'd +smash against the rocks in front of us, but she didn't. When she +got opposite the mouth of the lagoon she heeled over on a new tack +and sailed in between the rocks as pretty as anything ever you see. +Then she run aground on the beach just about a quarter of a mile +from the shanty. + +"'Twas early morning when we climbed aboard of her. I thought +Lazarus' schooner was dirty, but this one was nothing BUT dirt. +Dirty sails, all patches, dirty deck, dirty everything. + +"'Won't get much salvage on this bally tub,' says Hammond; 'she's +one of them nigger fish boats, that's w'at she is.' + +"I was kind of skittish about going below, 'fraid there might be +some dead folks, but Hammond went. In a minute or so up he comes, +looking scary. + +"'There's something mighty queer down there,' says he: 'kind of +w'eezing like a puffing pig.' + +"'Wheezing your grandmother!' says I, but I went and listened at +the hatch. 'Twas a funny noise I heard, but I knew what it was in +a minute; I'd heard too much of it lately to forget it, right away. + +"'It's snoring,' says I; 'somebody snoring.' + +"''Eavens!' says Hammond, 'you don't s'pose it's that 'ere Coolie +come back?' + +"'No, no!' says I. 'Where's your common sense? The cook snored +bass; this critter's snoring suppraner, and mighty poor suppraner +at that.' + +"'Well,' says he, ''ere goes to wake 'im hup!' And he commenced to +holler, 'Ahoy!' and 'Belay, there!' down the hatch. + +"First thing we heard was a kind of thump like somebody jumping out +er bed. Then footsteps, running like; then up the hatchway comes a +sight I shan't forget if I live to be a hundred. + +"'Twas a woman, middling old, with a yeller face all wrinkles, and +a chin and nose like Punch. She was dressed in a gaudy old calico +gown, and had earrings in her ears. She give one look round at the +schooner and the island. Then she see us and let out a whoop like +a steam whistle. + +"'Mulligatawny Sacremento merlasess!' she yells. 'Course that +wa'n't what she said, but that's what it sounded like. Then, 'fore +Hammond could stop her, she run for him and give him a rousing big +hug. He was the most surprised man ever you see, stood there like +a wooden image. I commenced to laff, but the next minute the woman +come for me and hugged me, too. + +"''Fectionate old gal,' says Hammond, grinning. + +"The critter in the calirco gown was going through the craziest +pantomime ever was; p'intin' off to sea and then down to deck and +then up to the sails. I didn't catch on for a minute, but Hammond +did. Says he: + +"'Showing us w'ere this 'ere palatial yacht come from. 'Ad a rough +passage, it looks like!' + +"Then the old gal commenced to get excited. She p'inted over the +side and made motions like rowing. Then she p'inted down the hatch +and shut her eyes and purtended to snore. After that she rowed +again, all the time getting madder and madder, with her little +black eyes a-snapping like fire coals and stomping her feet and +shaking her fists. Fin'lly she finished up with a regular howl, +you might say, of rage. + +"'The crew took to the boat and left 'er asleep below,' says +Hammond. ''Oly scissors: they're in for a lively time if old +Nutcrackers 'ere ever catches 'em, 'ey?' + +"Well, we went over the schooner and examined everything, but there +wa'n't nothing of any value nowheres. 'Twas a reg'lar nigger +fishing boat, with dirt and cockroaches by the pailful. At last we +went ashore agin and up to the shanty, taking the old woman with +us. After eating some more of them tiresome custard apples for +breakfast, Hammond and me went down to look over the schooner agin. +We found she'd started a plank running aground on the beach, and +that 'twould take us a week to get her afloat and watertight. + +"While we was doing this the woman come down and went aboard. +Pretty soon we see her going back to the shanty with her arms full +of bundles and truck. We didn't think anything of it then, but +when we got home at noon, there was the best dinner ever you see +all ready for us. Fried fish, and some kind of beans cooked up +with peppers, and tea--real store tea--and a lot more things. +Land, how we did eat! We kept smacking our lips and rubbing our +vests to show we was enjoying everything, and the old gal kept +bobbing her head and grinning like one of them dummies you wind up +with a key. + +"'Well,' says Hammond, 'we've got a cook at last. Ain't we, old-- +old-- Blimed if we've got a name for 'er yet! Here!' says he, +pointing to me. 'Looky here, missis! 'Edge! 'Edge! that's 'im! +'Ammond! 'Ammond! that's me. Now, 'oo are YOU?' + +"She rattled off a name that had more double j'ints in it than an +eel. + +"'Lordy!' says I; 'we never can larn that rigamarole. I tell you! +She looks for all the world like old A'nt Lobelia Fosdick at home +down on Cape Cod. Let's call her that.' + +"'She looks to me like the mother of a oysterman I used to know in +Liverpool. 'Is name was 'Ankins. Let's split the difference and +call 'er Lobelia 'Ankins.' + +"So we done it. + +"Well, Hammond and me pounded and patched away at the schooner for +the next three or four days, taking plenty of time off to sleep in, +'count of the heat, but getting along fairly well. + +"Lobelia 'Ankins cooked and washed dishes for us. She done some +noble cooking, 'specially as we wa'n't partic'lar, but we could see +she had a temper to beat the Old Scratch. If anything got burned, +or if the kittle upset, she'd howl and stomp and scatter things +worse than a cyclone. + +"I reckon 'twas about the third day that I noticed she was getting +sweet on Hammond. She was giving him the best of all the vittles, +and used to set at the table and look at him, softer'n and +sweeter'n a bucket of molasses. Used to walk 'longside of him, +too, and look up in his face and smile. I could see that he +noticed it and that it was worrying him a heap. One day he says to +me: + +"''Edge,' says he, 'I b'lieve that 'ere chromo of a Lobelia 'Ankins +is getting soft on me.' + +"''Course she is,' says I; 'I see that a long spell ago.' + +"'But what'll I DO?' says he. 'A woman like 'er is a desp'rate +character. If we hever git hashore she might be for lugging me to +the church and marrying me by main force.' + +"'Then you'll have to marry her, for all I see,' says I. 'You +shouldn't be so fascinating.' + +"That made him mad and he went off jawing to himself. + +"The next day we got the schooner patched up and off the shoal and +'longside Lazarus' old landing wharf by the shanty. There was a +little more tinkering to be done 'fore she was ready for sea, and +we cal'lated to do it that afternoon. + +"After dinner Hammond went down to the spring after some water and +Lobelia 'Ankins went along with him. I laid down in the shade for +a snooze, but I hadn't much more than settled myself comfortably +when I heard a yell and somebody running. I jumped up just in time +to see Hammond come busting through the bushes, lickety smash, with +Lobelia after him, yelling like an Injun. Hammond wa'n't yelling; +he was saving his breath for running. + +"They wa'n't in sight more'n a minute, but went smashing and +crashing through the woods into the distance. 'Twas too hot to run +after 'em, so I waited a spell and then loafed off in a roundabout +direction toward where I see 'em go. After I'd walked pretty nigh +a mile I heard Hammond whistle. I looked, but didn't see him +nowheres. Then he whistled again, and I see his head sticking out +of the top of a palm tree. + +"'Is she gone?' says he. + +"'Yes, long ago,' says I. 'Come down.' + +"It took some coaxing to git him down, but he come after a spell, +and he was the scaredest man ever I see. I asked him what the +matter was. + +"''Edge,' says he, 'I'm a lost man. That 'ere 'orrible 'Ankins +houtrage is either going to marry me or kill me. 'Edge,' he says, +awful solemn, 'she tried to kiss me! S'elp me, she did!' + +"Well, I set back and laughed. 'Is that why you run away?' I says. + +"'No,' says he. 'When I wouldn't let 'er she hups with a rock as +big as my 'ead and goes for me. There was murder in 'er eyes, +'Edge; I see it.' + +"Then I laughed more than ever and told him to come back to the +shanty, but he wouldn't. He swore he'd never come back again while +Lobelia 'Ankins was there. + +"'That's it,' says he, 'larf at a feller critter's sufferings. I +honly wish she'd try to kiss you once, that's all!' + +"Well, I couldn't make him budge, so I decided to go back and get +the lay of the land. Lobelia was busy inside the shanty when I got +there and looking black as a thundercloud, so I judged 'twa'n't +best to say nothing to her, and I went down and finished the job on +the schooner. At night, when I come in to suppers she met me at +the door. She had a big stick in her hand and looked savage. I +was a little nervous. + +"'Now, Lobelia 'Ankins,' says I, 'put down that and be sociable, +there's a good girl.' + +"'Course I knew she couldn't understand me, but I was whistling to +keep my courage up, as the saying is. + +"''Ammond!' says she, p'inting toward the woods. + +"'Yes,' says I, 'Hammond's taking a walk for his health.' + +"''Ammond!' says she, louder, and shaking the stick. + +"'Now, Lobelia,' says I, smiling smooth as butter, 'do put down +that club!' + +"''AMMOND!' she fairly hollers. Then she went through the most +blood-curdling pantomime ever was, I reckon. First she comes up to +me and taps me on the chest and says, ''Edge.' Then she goes +creeping round the room on tiptoe, p'inting out of the winder all +the time as much as to say she was pertending to walk through the +woods. Then she p'ints to one of the stumps we used for chairs and +screeches "AMMOND! and fetches the stump an awful bang with the +club. Then she comes over to me and kinder snuggles up and smiles, +and says, ''Edge,' and tried to put the club in my hand. + +"My topnot riz up on my head. 'Good Lord!' thinks I, 'she's making +love to me so's to get me to take that club and go and thump +Hammond with it!' + +"I was scared stiff, but Lobelia was between me and the door, so I +kept smiling and backing away. + +"'Now, Lobelia,' says I, 'don't be--' + +"''Ammond!' says she. + +"'Now, Miss 'Ankins, d-o-n't be hasty, I--' + +"''AMMOND! + +"Well, I backed faster and faster, and she follered me right up +till at last I begun to run. Round and round the place we went, me +scart for my life and she fairly frothing with rage. Finally I +bust through the door and put for the woods at a rate that beat +Hammond's going all holler. I never stopped till I got close to +the palm tree. Then I whistled and Hammond answered. + +"When I told him about the rumpus, he set and laughed like an +idiot. + +"''Ow d'you like Miss 'Ankin's love-making?' he says. + +"'You'll like it less'n I do,' I says, 'if she gets up here with +that club!' + +"That kind of sobered him down again, and we got to planning. +After a spell, we decided that our only chance was to sneak down to +the schooner in the dark and put to sea, leaving Lobelia alone in +her glory. + +"Well, we waited till twelve o'clock or so and then we crept down +to the beach, tiptoeing past the shanty for fear of waking Lobelia. +We got on the schooner all right, hauled up anchor, h'isted sail +and stood out of the lagoon with a fair wind. When we was fairly +to sea we shook hands. + +"'Lawd!' says Hammond, drawing a long breath, 'I never was so 'appy +in my life. This 'ere lady-killing business ain't in my line.' + +"He felt so good that he set by the wheel and sung, 'Good-by, +sweet'art, good-by,' for an hour or more. + +"In the morning we was in sight of another small island, and, out +on a p'int, was a passel of folks jumping up and down and waving a +signal. + +"'Well, if there ain't more castaways!' says I. + +"'Don't go near 'em!' says Hammond. 'Might come there was more +Lobelias among 'em.' + +"But pretty quick we see the crowd all pile into a boat and come +rowing off to us. They was all men, and their signal was a red +flannel shirt on a pole. + +"We put about for 'em and picked 'em up, letting their boat tow +behind the schooner. There was five of 'em, a ragged and dirty lot +of Malays and half-breeds. When they first climbed aboard, I see +'em looking the schooner over mighty sharp, and in a minute they +was all jabbering together in native lingo. + +"'What's the matter with 'em?' says Hammond. + +"A chap with scraggy black whiskers and a sort of worried look on +his face, stepped for'ard and made a bow. He looked like a cross +between a Spaniard and a Malay, and I guess that's what he was. + +"'Senors,' says he, palavering and scraping, 'boat! my boat!' + +"'W'at's 'e giving us?' says Hammond. + +"'Boat! This boat! My boat, senors,' says the feller. All to +once I understood him. + +"'Hammond,' I says, 'I swan to man if I don't believe we've picked +up the real crew of this craft!' + +"'Si, senor; boat, my boat! Crew! Crew!' says Whiskers, waving +his hands toward the rest of his gang. + +"'Hall right, skipper,' says Hammond; 'glad to see yer back +haboard. Make yerselves well at 'ome. 'Ow d' yer lose er in the +first place?' + +"The feller didn't seem to understand much of this, but he looked +more worried than ever. The crew looked frightened, and jabbered. + +"'Ooman, senors,' says Whiskers, in half a whisper. 'Ooman, she +here?' + +"'Hammond,' says I, 'what's a ooman?' The feller seemed to be +thinkin' a minute; then he began to make signs. He pulled his nose +down till it most touched his chin. Then he put his hands to his +ears and made loops of his fingers to show earrings. Then he took +off his coat and wrapped it round his knees like make-b'lieve +skirts. Hammond and me looked at each other. + +"''Edge,' says Hammond, ''e wants to know w'at's become of Lobelia +'Ankins.' + +"'No, senor,' says I to the feller; 'ooman no here. Ooman there!' +And I p'inted in the direction of our island. + +"Well, sir, you oughter have seen that Malay gang's faces light up! +They all bust out a grinning and laffing, and Whiskers fairly +hugged me and then Hammond. Then he made one of the Malays take +the wheel instead of me, and sent another one into the fo'castle +after something. + +"But I was curious, and I says, p'inting toward Lobelia's island: + +"'Ooman your wife?' + +"'No, no, no,' says he, shaking his head like it would come off, +'ooman no wife. Wife there,' and he p'inted about directly +opposite from my way. 'Ooman,' he goes on, 'she no wife, she--' + +"Just here the Malay come up from the fo'castle, grinning like a +chessy cat and hugging a fat jug of this here palm wine that +natives make. I don't know where he got it from--I thought Hammond +and me had rummaged that fo'castle pretty well--but, anyhow, there +it was. + +"Whiskers passed the jug to me and I handed it over to Hammond. He +stood up to make a speech. + +"'Feller citizens,' says he, 'I rise to drink a toast. 'Ere's to +the beautchous Lobelia 'Ankins, and may she long hornament the +lovely island where she now--' + +"The Malay at the wheel behind us gave an awful screech. We all +turned sudden, and there, standing on the companion ladder, with +her head and shoulders out of the hatch, was Lobelia 'Ankins, as +large as life and twice as natural. + +"Hammond dropped the jug and it smashed into finders. We all stood +stock-still for a minute, like folks in a tableau. The half-breed +skipper stood next to me, and I snum if you couldn't see him +shrivel up like one of them things they call a sensitive plant. + +"The tableau lasted while a feller might count five; then things +happened. Hammond and me dodged around the deckhouse; the Malays +broke and run, one up the main rigging, two down the fo'castle +hatch and one out on the jib-boom. But the poor skipper wa'n't +satisfied with any of them places; he started for the lee rail, and +Lobelia 'Ankins started after him. + +"She caught him as he was going to jump overboard and yanked him +back like he was a bag of meal. She shook him, she boxed his ears, +she pulled his hair, and all the time he was begging and pleading +and she was screeching and jabbering at the top of her lungs. +Hammond pulled me by the sleeve. + +"'It'll be our turn next,' says he; 'get into the boat! Quick!' + +"The little boat that the crew had come in was towing behind the +schooner. We slid over the stern and dropped into it. Hammond cut +the towline and we laid to the oars. Long as we was in the hearing +of the schooner the powwow and rumpus kept up, but just as we was +landing on the little island that the Malays had left, she come +about on the port tack and stood off to sea. + +"'Lobelia's running things again,' says Hammond. + +"Three days after this we was took off by a Dutch gunboat. Most of +the time on the island we spent debating how Lobelia come to be on +the schooner. Finally we decided that she must have gone aboard to +sleep that night, suspecting that we'd try to run away in the +schooner just as we had tried to. We talked about Whiskers and his +crew and guessed about how they came to abandon their boat in the +first place. One thing we was sartin sure of, and that was that +they'd left Lobelia aboard on purpose. We knew mighty well that's +what we'd a-done. + +"What puzzled us most was what relation Lobelia was to the skipper. +She wa'n't his wife, 'cause he'd said so, and she didn't look +enough like him to be his mother or sister. But as we was being +took off in the Dutchman's yawl, Hammond thumps the thwart with his +fist and says he: + +"'I've got it!' he says; 'she's 'is mother-in-law!' + +"''Course she is!' says I. 'We might have known it!'" + + + + +THE MEANNESS OF ROSY + + +Cap'n Jonadab said that the South Seas and them islands was full of +queer happenings, anyhow. Said that Eri's yarn reminded him of one +that Jule Sparrow used to tell. There was a Cockney in that yarn, +too, and a South Sea woman and a schooner. But in other respects +the stories was different. + +"You all know Wash Sparrow, here in Wellmouth," says the Cap'n. +"He's the laziest man in town. It runs in his family. His dad was +just the same. The old man died of creeping paralysis, which was +just the disease he'd pick out TO die of, and even then he took six +years to do it in. Washy's brother Jule, Julius Caesar Sparrow, he +was as no-account and lazy as the rest. When he was around this +neighborhood he put in his time swapping sea lies for heat from the +post-office stove, and the only thing that would get him livened up +at all was the mention of a feller named 'Rosy' that he knew while +he was seafaring, way off on t'other side of the world. Jule used +to say that 'twas this Rosy that made him lose faith in human +nature. + +"The first time ever Julius and Rosy met was one afternoon just as +the Emily--that was the little fore-and-aft South Sea trading +schooner Jule was in--was casting off from the ramshackle landing +at Hello Island. Where's Hello Island? Well, I'll tell you. When +you get home you take your boy's geography book and find the map of +the world. About amidships of the sou'western quarter of it you'll +see a place where the Pacific Ocean is all broke out with the +measles. Yes; well, one of them measle spots is Hello Island. + +"'Course that ain't the real name of it. The real one is spelt +with four o's, three a's, five i's, and a peck measure of h's and +x's hove in to fill up. It looks like a plate of hash and that's +the way it's pronounced. Maybe you might sing it if 'twas set to +music, but no white man ever said the whole of it. Them that tried +always broke down on the second fathom or so and said 'Oh, the +hereafter!' or words to that effect. 'Course the missionaries see +that wouldn't do, so they twisted it stern first and it's been +Hello Island to most folks ever since. + +"Why Jule was at Hello Island is too long a yarn. Biled down it +amounts to a voyage on a bark out of Seattle, and a first mate like +yours, Eri, who was a kind of Christian Science chap and cured sick +sailors by the laying on of hands--likewise feet and belaying pins +and ax handles and such. And, according to Jule's tell, he DID +cure 'em, too. After he'd jumped up and down on your digestion a +few times you forgot all about the disease you started in with and +only remembered the complications. Him and Julius had their final +argument one night when the bark was passing abreast one of the +Navigator Islands, close in. Jule hove a marlinespike at the +mate's head and jumped overboard. He swum ashore to the beach and, +inside of a week, he'd shipped aboard the Emily. And 'twas aboard +the Emily, and at Hello Island, as I said afore, that he met Rosy. + +"George Simmons--a cockney Britisher he was, and skipper--was +standing at the schooner's wheel, swearing at the two Kanaka +sailors who were histing the jib. Julius, who was mate, was +roosting on the lee rail amid-ships, helping him swear. And old +Teunis Van Doozen, a Dutchman from Java or thereabouts, who was +cook, was setting on a stool by the galley door ready to heave in a +word whenever 'twas necessary. The Kanakas was doing the work. +That was the usual division of labor aboard the Emily. + +"Well, just then there comes a yell from the bushes along the +shore. Then another yell and a most tremendous cracking and +smashing. Then out of them bushes comes tearing a little man with +spectacles and a black enamel-cloth carpetbag, heaving sand like a +steam-shovel and seemingly trying his best to fly. And astern of +him comes more yells and a big, husky Kanaka woman, about eight +foot high and three foot in the beam, with her hands stretched out +and her fingers crooked. + +"Julius used to swear that that beach was all of twenty yards wide +and that the little man only lit three times from bush to wharf. +And he didn't stop there. He fired the carpetbag at the schooner's +stern and then spread out his wings and flew after it. His fingers +just hooked over the rail and he managed to haul himself aboard. +Then he curled up on the deck and breathed short but spirited. The +Kanaka woman danced to the stringpiece and whistled distress +signals. + +"Cap'n George Simmons looked down at the wrecked flying machine and +grunted. + +"'Umph!' says he. 'You don't look like a man the girls would run +after. Lady your wife?' + +"The little feller bobbed his specs up and down. + +"'So?' says George. ''Ow can I bear to leave thee, 'ey? Well, +ain't you ashamed of yourself to be running off and leaving a nice, +'andsome, able-bodied wife that like? Look at 'er now, over there +on 'er knees a praying for you to come back.' + +"There was a little p'int making out from the beach close by the +edge of the channel and the woman was out on the end of it, down on +all fours. Her husband raised up and looked over the rail. + +"'She ain't praying,' he pants, ducking down again quick. 'She's +a-picking up stones.' + +"And so she was. Julius said he thought sure she'd cave in the +Emily's ribs afore she got through with her broadsides. The rocks +flew like hail. Everybody got their share, but Cap'n George got a +big one in the middle of the back. That took his breath so all the +way he could express his feelings was to reach out and give his new +passenger half a dozen kicks. But just as soon as he could he +spoke, all right enough. + +"'You mis'rable four-eyed shrimp!' he says. ''Twould serve you +right if I 'ove to and made you swim back to 'er. Blow me if I +don't believe I will!' + +"'Aw, don't, Cap'n; PLEASE don't!' begs the feller. 'I'll be awful +grateful to you if you won't. And I'll make it right with you, +too. I've got a good thing in that bag of mine. Yes, sir! A +beautiful good thing.' + +"'Oh, well,' says the skipper, bracing up and smiling sweet as he +could for the ache in his back. 'I'll 'elp you out. You trust +your Uncle George. Not on account of what you're going to give me, +you understand,' says he. 'It would be a pity if THAT was the +reason for 'elpin' a feller creat-- Sparrow, if you touch that bag +I'll break your blooming 'ead. 'Ere! you 'and it to me. I'll take +care of it for the gentleman.' + +"All the rest of that day the Cap'n couldn't do enough for the +passenger. Give him a big dinner that took Teunis two hours to +cook, and let him use his own pet pipe with the last of Jule's +tobacco in it, and all that. And that evening in the cabin, Rosy +told his story. Seems he come from Bombay originally, where he was +born an innocent and trained to be a photographer. This was in the +days when these hand cameras wa'n't so common as they be now, and +Rosy--his full name was Clarence Rosebury, and he looked it--had a +fine one. Also he had some plates and photograph paper and a jug +of 'developer' and bottles of stuff to make more, wrapped up in an +old overcoat and packed away in the carpetbag. He had landed in +the Fijis first-off and had drifted over to Hello Island, taking +pictures of places and natives and so on, intending to use 'em in a +course of lectures he was going to deliver when he got back home. +He boarded with the Kanaka lady at Hello till his money give out, +and then he married her to save board. He wouldn't talk about his +married life--just shivered instead. + +"'But w'at about this good thing you was mentioning, Mr. Rosebury?' +asks Cap'n George, polite, but staring hard at the bag. Jule and +the cook was in the cabin likewise. The skipper would have liked +to keep 'em out, but they being two to one, he couldn't. + +"'That's it,' answers Rosy, cheerful. + +"'W'at's it?' + +"'Why, the things in the grip; the photograph things. You see,' +says Rosy, getting excited, his innocent, dreamy eyes a-shining +behind his specs and the ridge of red hair around his bald spot +waving like a hedge of sunflowers; 'you see,' he says, 'my +experience has convinced me that there's a fortune right in these +islands for a photographer who'll take pictures of the natives. +They're all dying to have their photographs took. Why, when I was +in Hello Island I could have took dozens, only they didn't have the +money to pay for 'em and I couldn't wait till they got some. But +you've got a schooner. You could sail around from one island to +another, me taking pictures and you getting copra and--and pearls +and things from the natives in trade for 'em. And we'd leave a +standing order for more plates to be delivered steady from the +steamer at Suva or somewheres, and--' + +"''Old on!' Cap'n George had been getting redder and redder in the +face while Rosy was talking, and now he fairly biled over, like a +teakettle. ''Old on!' he roars. 'Do I understand that THIS is the +good thing you was going to let me in on? Me to cruise you around +from Dan to Beersheby, feeding you, and giving you tobacco to +smoke--' + +"''Twas my tobacco,' breaks in Julius. + +"'Shut up! Cruising you around, and you living on the fat of--of +the--the water, and me trusting to get my pay out of tintypes of +Kanakas! Was that it? Was it?' + +"'Why--why, yes,' answers Rosy. 'But, cap'n, you don't understand--' + +"'Then,' says George, standing up and rolling up his pajama +sleeves, 'there's going to be justifiable 'omicide committed right +now.' + +"Jule said that if it hadn't been that the skipper's sore back got +to hurting him he don't know when him and the cook would have had +their turn at Rosy. 'Course they wanted a turn on account of the +tobacco and the dinner, not to mention the stone bruises. When all +hands was through, that photographer was a spiled negative. + +"And that was only the beginning. They ain't much fun abusing +Kanakas because they don't talk back, but first along Rosy would +try to talk back, and that give 'em a chance. Julius had learned a +lot of things from that mate on the bark, and he tried 'em all on +that tintype man. And afterward they invented more. They made him +work his passage, and every mean and dirty job there was to do, he +had to do it. They took his clothes away from him, and, while they +lasted, the skipper had three shirts at once, which hadn't happened +afore since he served his term in the Sydney jail. And he was such +a COMFORT to 'em. Whenever the dinner wa'n't cooked right, instead +of blaming Teunis, they took it out of Rosy. By the time they made +their first port they wouldn't have parted with him for no money, +and they locked him up in the fo'castle and kept him there. And +when one of the two Kanaka boys run away they shipped Rosy in his +place by unanimous vote. And so it went for six months, the Emily +trading and stealing all around the South Seas. + +"One day the schooner was off in an out-of-the way part of the +ocean, and the skipper come up from down below, bringing one of the +photographing bottles from the carpetbag. + +"'See 'ere,' says he to Rosy, who was swabbing decks just to keep +him out of mischief, 'w'at kind of a developer stuff is this? It +has a mighty familiar smell.' + +"'That ain't developer, sir,' answers Rosy, meek as usual. 'That's +alcohol. I use it--' + +"'Alcohol!' says George. 'Do you mean to tell me that you've 'ad +alcohol aboard all this time and never said a word to one of us? +If that ain't just like you! Of all the ungrateful beasts as ever +I--' + +"When him and the other two got through convincing Rosy that he was +ungrateful, they took that bottle into the cabin and begun +experimenting. Julius had lived a few months in Maine, which is a +prohibition State, and so he knew how to make alcohol 'splits'-- +one-half wet fire and the rest water. They 'split' for five days. +Then the alcohol was all out and the Emily was all in, being stove +up on a coral reef two mile off shore of a little island that +nobody'd ever seen afore. + +"They got into the boat--the four white men and the Kanaka--histed +the sail, and headed for the beach. They landed all right and was +welcomed by a reception committee of fifteen husky cannibals with +spears, dressed mainly in bone necklaces and sunshine. The +committee was glad to see 'em, and showed it, particular to Teunis, +who was fat. Rosy, being principally framework by this time, +wa'n't nigh so popular; but he didn't seem to care. + +"The darkies tied 'em up good and proper and then held a committee +meeting, arguing, so Julius cal'lated, whether to serve 'em plain +or with greens. While the rest was making up the bill of fare, a +few set to work unpacking the bags and things, Rosy's satchel among +'em. Pretty soon there was an awful jabbering. + +"'They've settled it,' says George, doleful. 'Well, there's enough +of Teunis to last 'em for one meal, if they ain't 'ogs. You're a +tough old bird, cooky; maybe you'll give 'em dyspepsy, so they +won't care for the rest of us. That's a ray of 'ope, ain't it?' + +"But the cook didn't seem to get much hope out of it. He was busy +telling the skipper what he thought of him when the natives come +up. They was wildly excited, and two or three of 'em was waving +square pieces of cardboard in their hands. + +"And here's where the Emily's gang had a streak of luck. The +Kanaka sailor couldn't talk much English, but it seems that his +granddad, or some of his ancestors, must have belonged to the same +breed of cats as these islanders, for he could manage to understand +a little of their lingo. + +"'Picture!' says he, crazy-like with joy. 'Picture, cappy; +picture!' + +"When Rosy was new on board the schooner, afore George and the rest +had played with him till he was an old story, one of their games +was to have him take their photographs. He'd taken the cap'n's +picture, and Julius's and Van Doozen's. The pictures was a Rogues' +Gallery that would have got 'em hung on suspicion anywhere in +civilization, but these darkies wa'n't particular. Anyhow they +must have been good likenesses, for the committee see the +resemblance right off. + +"'They t'ink witchcraft,' says the Kanaka. 'Want to know how +make.' + +"'Lord!' says George. 'You tell 'em we're witches from Witch +Center. Tell 'em we make them kind of things with our eyes shut, +and if they eat us we'll send our tintypes to 'aunt 'em into their +graves. Tell 'em that quick.' + +"Well, I guess the Kanaka obeyed orders, for the islanders was all +shook up. They jabbered and hurrahed like a parrot-house for ten +minutes or so. Then they untied the feet of their Sunday dinners, +got 'em into line, and marched 'em off across country, prodding 'em +with their spears, either to see which was the tenderest or to make +'em step livelier, I don't know which. + +"Julius said that was the most nervous walk ever he took. Said +afore 'twas done he was so leaky with spear holes that he cast a +shadder like a skimmer. Just afore sunset they come to the other +side of the island, where there was a good sized native village, +with houses made of grass and cane, and a big temple-like in the +middle, decorated fancy and cheerful with skulls and spareribs. +Jule said there was places where the decorations needed repairs, +and he figgered he was just in time to finish 'em. But he didn't +take no pride in it; none of his folks cared for art. + +"The population was there to meet 'em, and even the children looked +hungry. Anybody could see that having company drop in for dinner +was right to their taste. There was a great chair arrangement in +front of the temple, and on it was the fattest, ugliest, old liver- +colored woman that Julius ever see. She was rigged up regardless, +with a tooth necklace and similar jewelry; and it turned out that +she was the queen of the bunch. Most of them island tribes have +chiefs, but this district was strong for woman suffrage. + +"Well, the visitors had made a hit, but Rosy's photographs made a +bigger one. The queen and the head men of the village pawed over +'em and compared 'em with the originals and powwowed like a sewing +circle. Then they called up the Kanaka sailor, and he preached +witchcraft and hoodoos to beat the cars, lying as only a feller +that knows the plates are warming for him on the back of the stove +can lie. Finally the queen wanted to know if the 'long pigs' could +make a witch picture of HER. + +"'Tell 'er yes,' yells George, when the question was translated to +him. 'Tell 'er we're picture-makers by special app'intment to the +Queen and the Prince of Wales. Tell 'er we'll make 'er look like +the sweetest old chocolate drop in the taffy-shop. Only be sure +and say we must 'ave a day or so to work the spells and put on the +kibosh.' + +"So 'twas settled, and dinner was put off for that night, anyhow. +And the next day being sunny, Rosy took the queen's picture. 'Twas +an awful strain on the camera, but it stood it fine; and the +photographs he printed up that afternoon was the most horrible +collection of mince-pie dreams that ever a sane man run afoul of. +Rosy used one of the grass huts for a dark room; and while he was +developing them plates, they could hear him screaming from sheer +fright at being shut up alone with 'em in the dark. + +"But her majesty thought they was lovely, and set and grinned proud +at 'em for hours at a stretch. And the wizards was untied and fed +up and given the best house in town to live in. And Cap'n George +and Julius and the cook got to feeling so cheerful and happy that +they begun to kick Rosy again, just out of habit. And so it went +on for three days. + +"Then comes the Kanaka interpreter--grinning kind of foolish. + +"'Cappy,' says he, 'queen, she likes you. She likes you much lot.' + +"'Well,' says the skipper, modest, 'she'd ought to. She don't see +a man like me every day. She ain't the first woman,' he says. + +"'She like all you gentlemen,' says the Kanaka. 'She say she want +witch husband. One of you got marry her." + +"'HEY?' yells all hands, setting up. + +"'Yes, sir. She no care which one, but one white man must marry +her to-morrow. Else we all go chop plenty quick.' + +"'Chop' is Kanaka English for 'eat.' There wa'n't no need for the +boy to explain. + +"Then there was times. They come pretty nigh to a fight, because +Teunis and Jule argued that the skipper, being such a ladies' man, +was the natural-born choice. Just as things was the warmest; Cap'n +George had an idea. + +"'ROSY!' says he. + +"'Hey?' says the others. Then, 'Rosy? Why, of course, Rosy's the +man.' + +"But Rosy wa'n't agreeable. Julius said he never see such a +stubborn mule in his life. They tried every reasonable way they +could to convince him, pounding him on the head and the like of +that, but 'twas no go. + +"'I got a wife already,' he says, whimpering. 'And, besides, +cap'n, there wouldn't be such a contrast in looks between you and +her as there would with me.' + +"He meant so far as size went, but George took it the other way, +and there was more trouble. Finally Julius come to the rescue. + +"'I tell you,' says he. 'We'll be square and draw straws!' + +"'W'at?' hollers George. 'Well, I guess not!' + +"'And I'll hold the straws,' says Jule, winking on the side. + +"So they drew straws, and, strange as it may seem, Rosy got stuck. +He cried all night, and though the others tried to comfort him, +telling him what a lucky man he was to marry a queen, he wouldn't +cheer up a mite. + +"And next day the wedding took place in the temple in front of a +wood idol with three rows of teeth, and as ugly almost as the +bride, which was saying a good deal. And when 'twas over, the +three shipmates come and congratulated the groom, wishing him luck +and a happy honeymoon and such. Oh, they had a bully time, and +they was still laughing over it that night after supper, when down +comes a file of big darkies with spears, the Kanaka interpreter +leading 'em. + +"'Cappy,' says he. 'The king say you no stay in this house no +more. He say too good for you. Say, bimeby, when the place been +clean up, maybe he use it himself. You got to go.' + +"'Who says this?' roars Cap'n George, ugly as could be. + +"'The king, he say it.' + +"'The queen, you mean. There ain't no king.' + +"'Yes, sir. King AND queen now. Mr. Rosy he king. All tribe +proud to have witch king.' + +"The three looked at each other. + +"'Do you mean to say,' says the skipper, choking so he could hardly +speak, 'that we've got to take orders from 'IM?' + +"'Yes, sir. King say you no mind, we make.' + +"Well, sir, the language them three used must have been something +awful, judging by Jule's tell. But when they vowed they wouldn't +move, the spears got busy and out they had to get and into the +meanest, dirtiest little hut in the village, one without hardly any +sides and great holes in the roof. And there they stayed all night +in a pouring rain, the kind of rains you get in them islands. + +"'Twa'n't a nice night. They tried huddling together to keep dry, +but 'twa'n't a success because there was always a row about who +should be in the middle. Then they kept passing personal remarks +to one another. + +"'If the skipper hadn't been so gay and uppish about choosing +Rosy,' says Julius, 'there wouldn't have been no trouble. I do +hate a smart Aleck.' + +"'Who said draw straws?' sputters George, mad clean through. 'And +who 'eld 'em? 'Ey? Who did?' + +"'Well,' says Teunis, '_I_ didn't do it. You can't blame me.' + +"'No. You set there like a bump on a log and let me and the mate +put our feet in it. You old fat 'ead! I--' + +"They pitched into the cook until he got mad and hit the skipper. +Then there was a fight that lasted till they was all scratched up +and tired out. The only thing they could agree on was that Rosy +was what the skipper called a 'viper' that they'd nourished in +their bosoms. + +"Next morning 'twas worse than ever. Down comes the Kanaka with +his spear gang and routs 'em out and sets 'em to gathering +breadfruit all day in the hot sun. And at night 'twas back to the +leaky hut again. + +"And that wa'n't nothing to what come later. The lives that King +Rosy led them three was something awful. 'Twas dig in and work day +in and day out. Teunis had to get his majesty's meals, and nothing +was ever cooked right; and then the royal army got after the +steward with spear handles. Cap'n George had to clean up the +palace every day, and Rosy and the queen--who was dead gone on her +witch husband, and let him do anything he wanted to--stood over him +and found fault and punched him with sharp sticks to see him jump. +And Julius had to fetch and carry and wait, and get on his knees +whenever he spoke to the king, and he helped up again with a kick, +like as not. + +"Rosy took back all his own clothes that they'd stole, and then he +took theirs for good measure. He made 'em marry the three ugliest +old women on the island--his own bride excepted--and when they +undertook to use a club or anything, he had THEM licked instead. +He wore 'em down to skin and bone. Jule said you wouldn't believe +a mortal man could treat his feller creatures so low down and mean. +And the meanest part of it was that he always called 'em the names +that they used to call him aboard ship. Sometimes he invented new +ones, but not often, because 'twa'n't necessary. + +"For a good six months this went on--just the same length of time +that Rosy was aboard the Emily. Then, one morning early, Julius +looks out of one of the holes in the roof of his house and, off on +the horizon, heading in, he sees a small steamer, a pleasure yacht +'twas. He lets out a yell that woke up the village, and races head +first for the Emily's boat that had been rowed around from the +other side of the island, and laid there with her oars and sail +still in her. And behind him comes Van Doozen and Cap'n George. + +"Into the boat they piled, while the islanders were getting their +eyes open and gaping at the steamer. There wa'n't no time to get +up sail, so they grabbed for the oars. She stuck on the sand just +a minute; and, in that minute, down from the palace comes King +Rosy, running the way he run from his first wife over at Hello. He +leaped over the stern, picked up the other oar, and off they put +across the lagoon. The rudder was in its place and so was the +tiller, but they couldn't use 'em then. + +"They had a good start, but afore they'd got very far the natives +had waked up and were after 'em in canoes. + +"''Ere!' screams Cap'n George. 'This won't do! They'll catch us +sure. Get sail on to 'er lively! Somebody take that tiller.' + +"Rosy, being nearest, took the tiller and the others got up the +sail. Then 'twas nip and tuck with the canoes for the opening of +the barrier reef at the other side of the lagoon. But they made it +first, and, just as they did, out from behind the cliff comes the +big steam-yacht, all white and shining, with sailors in uniform on +her decks, and awnings flapping, and four mighty pretty women +leaning over the side. All of the Emily gang set up a whoop of +joy, and 'twas answered from the yacht. + +"'Saved!' hollers Cap'n George. 'Saved, by thunder! And now,' +says he, knocking his fists together, 'NOW to get square with that +four-eyed thief in the stern! Come on, boys!' + +"Him and Julius and Teunis made a flying leap aft to get at Rosy. +But Rosy see 'em coming, jammed the tiller over, the boom swung +across and swept the three overboard pretty as you please. + +"There was a scream from the yacht. Rosy give one glance at the +women. Then he tossed his arms over his head. + +"'Courage, comrades!' he shouts. 'I'll save you or die with you!' + +"And overboard he dives, 'kersplash!' + +"Julius said him and the skipper could have swum all right if Rosy +had give 'em the chance, but he didn't. He knew a trick worth two +of that. He grabbed 'em round the necks and kept hauling 'em under +and splashing and kicking like a water-mill. All hands was pretty +well used up when they was pulled aboard the yacht. + +"'Oh, you brave man!' says one of the women, stooping over Rosy, +who was sprawled on the deck with his eyes shut, 'Oh, you HERO!' + +"'Are they living?' asks Rosy, faint-like and opening one eye. +'Good! Now I can die content.' + +"'Living!' yells George, soon's he could get the salt water out of +his mouth. 'Living! By the 'oly Peter! Let me at 'im! I'll show +'im whether I'm living or not!' + +"'What ails you, you villain?' says the feller that owned the +yacht, a great big Englishman, Lord Somebody-or-other. 'The man +saved your lives.' + +"'He knocked us overboard!' yells Julius. + +"'Yes, and he done it a-purpose!' sputters Van Doozen, well as he +could for being so waterlogged. + +"'Let's kill him!' says all three. + +"'Did it on purpose!' says the lord, scornful. 'Likely he'd throw +you over and then risk his life to save you. Here!' says he to the +mate. 'Take those ungrateful rascals below. Give 'em dry clothes +and then set 'em to work--hard work; understand? As for this poor, +brave chap, take him to the cabin. I hope he'll pull through,' +says he. + +"And all the rest of the voyage, which was to Melbourne, Julius and +his two chums had to slave and work like common sailors, while +Rosy, the hero invalid, was living on beef tea and jelly and +champagne, and being petted and fanned by the lord's wife and the +other women. And 'twas worse toward the end, when he pretended to +be feeling better, and could set in a steamer-chair on deck and +grin and make sarcastic remarks under his breath to George and the +other two when they was holystoning or scrubbing in the heat. + +"At Melbourne they hung around the wharf, waiting to lick him, till +the lord had 'em took up for vagrants. When they got out of the +lockup they found Rosy had gone. And his lordship had given him +money and clothes, and I don't know what all. + +"Julius said that Rosy's meanness sickened him of the sea. Said +'twas time to retire when such reptiles was afloat. So he come +home and married the scrub-woman at the Bay View House. He lived +with her till she lost her job. I don't know where he is now." + + * * * * * * + +'Twas purty quiet for a few minutes after Jonadab had unloaded this +yarn. Everybody was busy trying to swaller his share of the +statements in it, I cal'late. Peter T. looked at the Cap'n, +admiring but reproachful. + +"Wixon," says he. "I didn't know 'twas in you. Why didn't you +tell me?" + +"Oh," says Jonadab, "I ain't responsible. 'Twas Jule Sparrow that +told it to me." + +"Humph!" says Peter. "I wish you knew his address. I'd like to +hire him to write the Old Home ads. I thought MY invention was +A 1, but I'm in the kindergarten. Well, let's go to bed before +somebody tries to win the prize from Sparrow." + +'Twas after eleven by then, so, as his advice looked good, we +follered it. + + + + +THE ANTIQUERS + + +We've all got a crazy streak in us somewheres, I cal'late, only the +streaks don't all break out in the same place, which is a mercy, +when you come to think of it. One feller starts tooting a fish +horn and making announcements that he's the Angel Gabriel. Another +poor sufferer shows his first symptom by having his wife's +relations come and live with him. One ends in the asylum and +t'other in the poorhouse; that's the main difference in them cases. +Jim Jones fiddles with perpetual motion and Sam Smith develops a +sure plan for busting Wall Street and getting rich sudden. I take +summer boarders maybe, and you collect postage stamps. Oh, we're +all looney, more or less, every one of us. + +Speaking of collecting reminds me of the "Antiquers"--that's what +Peter T. Brown called 'em. They put up at the Old Home House-- +summer before last; and at a crank show they'd have tied for the +blue ribbon. There was the Dowager and the Duchess and "My +Daughter" and "Irene dear." Likewise there was Thompson and Small, +but they, being nothing but husbands and fathers, didn't count for +much first along, except when board was due or "antiques" had to be +settled for. + +The Dowager fetched port first. She hove alongside the Old Home +one morning early in July, and she had "My Daughter" in tow. The +names, as entered on the shipping list, was Mrs. Milo Patrick +Thompson and Miss Barbara Millicent Thompson, but Peter T. Brown he +had 'em re-entered as "The Dowager" and "My Daughter" almost as +soon as they dropped anchor. Thompson himself come poking up to +the dock on the following Saturday night; Peter didn't christen +him, except to chuck out something about Milo's being an "also +ran." + +The Dowager was skipper of the Thompson craft, with "My daughter"-- +that's what her ma always called her--as first mate, and Milo as +general roustabout and purser. + +'Twould have done you good to see the fleet run into the breakfast +room of a morning, with the Dowager leading, under full sail, +Barbara close up to her starboard quarter, and Milo tailing out a +couple of lengths astern. The other boarders looked like quahaug +dories abreast of the Marblehead Yacht Club. Oh, the Thompsons won +every cup until the Smalls arrived on a Monday; then 'twas a dead +heat. + +Mamma Small was built on the lines of old lady Thompson, only more +so, and her daughter flew pretty nigh as many pennants as Barbara. +Peter T. had 'em labeled the "Duchess" and "Irene dear" in a jiffy. +He didn't nickname Small any more'n he had Thompson, and for the +same reasons. Me and Cap'n Jonadab called Small "Eddie" behind his +back, 'count of his wife's hailing him as "Edwin." + +Well, the Dowager and the Duchess sized each other up, and, +recognizing I jedge, that they was sister ships, set signals and +agreed to cruise in company and watch out for pirates--meaning +young men without money who might want to talk to their daughters. +In a week the four women was thicker than hasty-pudding and had +thrones on the piazza where they could patronize everybody short of +the Creator, and criticize the other boarders. Milo and Eddie got +friendly too, and found a harbor behind the barn where they could +smoke and swap sympathy. + +'Twas fair weather for pretty near a fortni't, and then she +thickened up. The special brand of craziness in Wellmouth that +season was collecting "antiques," the same being busted chairs and +invalid bureaus and sofys that your great grandmarm got ashamed of +and sent to the sickbay a thousand year ago. Oh, yes, and dishes! +If there was one thing that would drive a city woman to counting +her fingers and cutting paper dolls, 'twas a nicked blue plate with +a Chinese picture on it. And the homelier the plate the higher the +price. Why there was as many as six families that got enough money +for the rubbage in their garrets to furnish their houses all over +with brand new things--real shiny, hand-painted stuff, not +haircloth ruins with music box springs, nor platters that you had +to put a pan under for fear of losing cargo. + +I don't know who fetched the disease to the Old Home House. All +I'm sartain of is that 'twan't long afore all hands was in that +condition where the doctor'd have passed 'em on to the parson. +First along it seemed as if the Thompson-Small syndicate had been +vaccinated--they didn't develop a symptom. But one noon the +Dowager sails into the dining-room and unfurls a brown paper +bundle. + +"I've captured a prize, my dear," says she to the Duchess. "A +veritable prize. Just look!" + +And she dives under the brown paper hatches and resurrects a pink +plate, suffering from yaller jaundice, with the picture of a pink +boy, wearing curls and a monkey-jacket, holding hands with a pink +girl with pointed feet. + +"Ain't it perfectly lovely?" says she, waving the outrage in front +of the Duchess. "A ginuwine Hall nappy! And in SUCH condition!" + +"Why," says the Duchess, "I didn't know you were interested in +antiques." + +"I dote on 'em," comes back the Dowager, and "my daughter" owned up +that she "adored" 'em. + +"If you knew," continues Mrs. Thompson, "how I've planned and +contrived to get this treasure. I've schemed-- My! my! My +daughter says she's actually ashamed of me. Oh, no! I can't tell +even you where I got it. All's fair in love and collecting, you +know, and there are more gems where this came from." + +She laughed and "my daughter" laughed, and the Duchess and "Irene +dear" laughed, too, and said the plate was "SO quaint," and all +that, but you could fairly hear 'em turn green with jealousy. It +didn't need a spyglass to see that they wouldn't ride easy at their +own moorings till THEY'D landed a treasure or two--probably two. + +And sure enough, in a couple of days they bore down on the +Thompsons, all sail set and colors flying. They had a pair of +plates that for ugliness and price knocked the "ginuwine Hall +nappy" higher 'n the main truck. And the way they crowed and +bragged about their "finds" wa'n't fit to put in the log. The +Dowager and "my daughter" left that dinner table trembling all +over. + +Well, you can see how a v'yage would end that commenced that way. +The Dowager and Barbara would scour the neighborhood and capture +more prizes, and the Duchess and her tribe would get busy and go +'em one better. That's one sure p'int about the collecting +business--it'll stir up a fight quicker'n anything I know of, +except maybe a good looking bachelor minister. The female +Thompsons and Smalls was "my dear-in'" each other more'n ever, but +there was a chill setting in round them piazza thrones, and some of +the sarcastic remarks that was casually hove out by the bosom +friends was pretty nigh sharp enough to shave with. As for Milo +and Eddie, they still smoked together behind the barn, but the +atmosphere on the quarter-deck was affecting the fo'castle and +there wa'n't quite so many "old mans" and "dear boys" as there +used to was. There was a general white frost coming, and you +didn't need an Old Farmer's Almanac to prove it. + +The spell of weather developed sudden. One evening me and Cap'n +Jonadab and Peter T. was having a confab by the steps of the +billiard-room, when Milo beats up from around the corner. He was +smiling as a basket of chips. + +"Hello!" hails Peter T. cordial. "You look as if you'd had money +left you. Any one else remembered in the will?" he says. + +Milo laughed all over. "Well, well," says he, "I AM feeling pretty +good. Made a ten-strike with Mrs. T. this afternoon for sure. + +"That so?" says Peter. "What's up? Hooked a prince?" + +A friend of "my daughter's" over at Newport had got engaged to a +mandarin or a count or something 'nother, and the Dowager had been +preaching kind of eloquent concerning the shortness of the nobility +crop round Wellmouth. + +"No," says Milo, laughing again. "Nothing like that. But I have +got hold of that antique davenport she's been dying to capture." + +One of the boarders at the hotel over to Harniss had been out +antiquing a week or so afore and had bagged a contraption which +answered to the name of a "ginuwine Sheriton davenport." The +dowager heard of it, and ever since she'd been remarking that some +people had husbands who cared enough for their wives to find things +that pleased 'em. She wished she was lucky enough to have that +kind of a man; but no, SHE had to depend on herself, and etcetery +and so forth. Maybe you've heard sermons similar. + +So we was glad for Milo and said so. Likewise we wanted to know +where he found the davenport. + +"Why, up here in the woods," says Milo, "at the house of a queer +old stick, name of Rogers. I forget his front name--'twas longer'n +the davenport." + +"Not Adoniram Rogers?" says Cap'n Jonadab, wondering. + +"That's him," says Thompson. + +Now, I knew Adoniram Rogers. His house was old enough, Lord knows; +but that a feller with a nose for a bargain like his should have +hung on to a salable piece of dunnage so long as this seemed 'most +too tough to believe. + +"Well, I swan to man!" says I. "Adoniram Rogers! Have you seen +the--the davenport thing?" + +"Sure I've seen it!" says Milo. "I ain't much of a jedge, and of +course I couldn't question Rogers too much for fear he'd stick on +the price. But it's an old davenport, and it's got Sheriton lines +and I've got the refusal of it till to-morrow, when Mrs. T's going +up to inspect." + +"Told Small yet?" asked Peter T., winking on the side to me and +Jonadab. + +Milo looked scared. "Goodness! No," says he. "And don't you tell +him neither. His wife's davenport hunting too." + +"You say you've got the refusal of it?" says I. "Well, I know +Adoniram Rogers, and if _I_ was dickering with him I'd buy the +thing first and get the refusal of it afterwards. You hear ME?" + +"Is that so?" repeats Milo. "Slippery, is he? I'll take my wife +up there first thing in the morning." + +He walked off looking worried, and his tops'ls hadn't much more'n +sunk in the offing afore who should walk out of the billiard room +behind us but Eddie Small. + +"Brown," says he to Peter T., "I want you to have a horse and buggy +harnessed up for me right off. Mrs. Small and I are going for a +little drive to--to--over to Orham," he says. + +'Twas a mean, black night for a drive as fur as Orham and Peter +looked surprised. He started to say something, then swallered it +down, and told Eddie he'd see to the harnessing. When Small was +out of sight, I says: + +"You don't cal'late he heard what Milo was telling, do you, Peter?" +says I. + +Peter T. shook his head and winked, first at Jonadab and then at +me. + +And the next day there was the dickens to pay because Eddie and the +Duchess had driven up to Rogers' the night afore and had bought the +davenport, refusal and all, for twenty dollars more'n Milo offered +for it. + +Adoniram brought it down that forenoon and all hands and the cook +was on the hurricane deck to man the yards. 'Twas a wonder them +boarders didn't turn out the band and fire salutes. Such ohs and +ahs! 'Twan't nothing but a ratty old cripple of a sofy, with one +leg carried away and most of the canvas in ribbons, but four men +lugged it up the steps and the careful way they handled it made you +think the Old Home House was a receiving tomb and they was laying +in the dear departed. + +'Twas set down on the piazza and then the friends had a chance to +view the remains. The Duchess and "Irene dear" gurgled and gushed +and received congratulations. Eddie stood around and tried to look +modest as was possible under the circumstances. The Dowager sailed +over, tilted her nose up to the foretop, remarked "Humph"' through +it and come about and stood at the other end of the porch. "My +daughter" follers in her wake, observes "Humph!" likewise and makes +for blue water. Milo comes over and looks at Eddie. + +"Well?" says Small. "What do you think of it?" + +"Never mind what I think of IT," answers Thompson, through his +teeth. "Shall I tell you what I think of YOU?" + +I thought for a minute that hostilities was going to begin, but +they didn't. The women was the real battleships in that fleet, the +men wa'n't nothing but transports. Milo and Eddie just glared at +each other and sheered off, and the "ginuwine Sheriton" was lugged +into the sepulchre, meaning the trunk-room aloft in the hotel. + +And after that the cold around the thrones was so fierce we had to +move the thermometer, and we had to give the families separate +tables in the dining-room so's the milk wouldn't freeze. You see +the pitcher set right between 'em, and-- Oh! I didn't expect you'd +believe it. + +The "antiquing" went on harder than ever. Every time the Thompsons +landed a relic, they'd bring it out on the veranda or in to dinner +and gloat over it loud and pointed, while the Smalls would pipe all +hands to unload sarcasm. And the same vicy vercy when 'twas +t'other way about. 'Twas interesting and instructive to listen to +and amused the populace on rainy days, so Peter T. said. + +Adoniram Rogers had been mighty scurce 'round the Old Home sense +the davenport deal. But one morning he showed up unexpected. A +boarder had dug up an antique somewheres in the shape of a derelict +plate, and was displaying it proud on the piazza. The Thompsons +was there and the Smalls and a whole lot more. All of a sudden +Rogers walks up the steps and reaches over and makes fast to the +plate. + +"Look out!" hollers the prize-winner, frantic. "You'll drop it!" + +Adoniram grunted. "Huh!" says he. "'Tain't nothing but a blue +dish. I've got a whole closet full of them." + +"WHAT?" yells everybody. And then: "Will you sell 'em?" + +"Sell 'em?" says Rogers, looking round surprised. "Why, I never +see nothing I wouldn't sell if I got money enough for it." + +Then for the next few minutes there was what old Parson Danvers +used to call a study in human nature. All hands started for that +poor, helpless plate owner as if they was going to swoop down on +him like a passel of gulls on a dead horse-mack'rel. Then they +come to themselves and stopped and looked at each other, kind of +shamefaced but suspicious. The Duchess and her crowd glared at the +Dowager tribe and got the glares back with compound interest. +Everybody wanted to get Adoniram one side and talk with him, and +everybody else was determined they shouldn't. Wherever he moved +the "Antiquers" moved with him. Milo watched from the side lines. +Rogers got scared. + +"Look here," says he, staring sort of wild-like at the boarders. +"What ails you folks? Are you crazy?" + +Well, he might have made a good deal worse guess than that. I +don't know how 'twould have ended if Peter T. Brown, cool and sassy +as ever, hadn't come on deck just then and took command. + +"See here, Rogers," he says, "let's understand this thing. Have +you got a set of dishes like that?" + +Adoniram looked at him. "Will I get jailed if I say yes?" he +answers. + +"Maybe you will if you don't," says Peter. "Now, then, ladies and +gentlemen, this is something we're all interested in, and I think +everybody ought to have a fair show. I jedge from the defendant's +testimony that he HAS got a set of the dishes, and I also jedge, +from my experience and three years' dealings with him, that he's +too public-spirited to keep 'em, provided he's paid four times what +they're worth. Now my idea is this; Rogers will bring those dishes +down here tomorrer and we'll put 'em on exhibition in the hotel +parlor. Next day we'll have an auction and sell 'em to the highest +cash bidder. And, provided there's no objection, I'll sacrifice my +reputation and be auctioneer." + +So 'twas agreed to have the auction. + +Next day Adoniram heaves alongside with the dishes in a truck +wagon, and they was strung out on the tables in the parlor. And +such a pawing over and gabbling you never heard. I'd been +suspicious, myself, knowing Rogers, but there was the set from +platters to sassers, and blue enough and ugly enough to be as +antique as Mrs. Methusalem's jet earrings. The "Antiquers" handled +'em and admired 'em and p'inted to the three holes in the back of +each dish--the same being proof of age--and got more covetous every +minute. But the joy was limited. As one feller said, "I'd like +'em mighty well, but what chance'll we have bidding against green- +back syndicates like that?" referring to the Dowager and the +Duchess. + +Milo and Eddie was the most worried of all, because each of 'em had +been commissioned by their commanding officers not to let t'other +family win. + +That auction was the biggest thing that ever happened at the Old +Home. We had it on the lawn out back of the billiard room and +folks came from Harniss and Orham and the land knows where. The +sheds and barn was filled with carriages and we served thirty-two +extra dinners at a dollar a feed. The dishes was piled on a table +and Peter T. done his auctioneer preaching from a kind of pulpit +made out of two cracker boxes and a tea chest. + +But there wa'n't any real bidding except from the Smalls and +Thompsons. A few of the boarders and some of the out-of-towners +took a shy long at first, but their bids was only ground bait. +Milo and Eddie, backed by the Dowager and the Duchess, done the +real fishing. + +The price went up and up. Peter T. whooped and pounded and all but +shed tears. If he'd been burying a competition hotel keeper he +couldn't have hove more soul into his work. 'Twas, "Fifty! Do I +hear sixty? Sixty do I hear? Fifty dollars! THINK of it? Why, +friends, this ain't a church pound party. Look at them dishes! +LOOK at 'em! Why, the pin feathers on those blue dicky birds in +the corners are worth more'n that for mattress stuffing. Do I hear +sixty? Sixty I'm bid. Who says seventy?" + +Milo said it, and Eddie was back at him afore he could shake the +reefs out of the last syllable. She went up to a hundred, then to +one hundred and twenty-five, and with every raise Adoniram Roger's +smile lengthened out. After the one-twenty-five mark the tide rose +slower. Milo'd raise it a dollar and Eddie'd jump him fifty cents. + +And just then two things happened. One was that a servant girl +come running from the Old Home House to tell the Duchess and "Irene +dear" that some swell friends of theirs from the hotel at Harniss +had driven over to call and was waiting for 'em in the parlor. The +female Smalls went in, though they wa'n't joyful over it. They +give Eddie his sailing orders afore they went, too. + +The other thing that happened was Bill Saltmarsh's arriving in +port. Bill is an "antiquer" for revenue only. He runs an antique +store over at Ostable and the prices he charges are enough to +convict him without hearing the evidence. I knew he'd come. + +Saltmarsh busts through the crowd and makes for the pulpit. He +nods to Peter T. and picks up one of the plates. He looks at it +first ruther casual; then more and more careful, turning it over +and taking up another. + +"Hold on a minute, Brown," says he. "Are THESE the dishes you're +selling?" + +"Sure thing," comes back Peter. "Think we're serving free lunch? +No, sir! Those are the genuine articles, Mr. Saltmarsh, and you're +cheating the widders and orphans if you don't put in a bid quick. +One thirty-two fifty, I'm bid. Now, Saltmarsh!" + +But Bill only laughed. Then he picks up another plate, looks at +it, and laughs again. + +"Good day, Brown," says he. "Sorry I can't stop." And off he puts +towards his horse and buggy. + +Eddie Small was watching him. Milo, being on the other side of the +pulpit, hadn't noticed so partic'lar. + +"Who's that?" asks Eddie, suspicious. "Does he know antiques?" + +I remarked that if Bill didn't, then nobody did. + +"Look here, Saltmarsh!" says Small, catching Bill by the arm as he +shoved through the crowd. "What's the matter with those dishes-- +anything?" + +Bill turned and looked at him. "Why, no," he says, slow. "They're +all right--of their kind." And off he put again. + +But Eddie wa'n't satisfied. He turns to me. "By George!" he says. +"What is it? Does he think they're fakes?" + +I didn't know, so I shook my head. Small fidgetted, looked at +Peter, and then run after Saltmarsh. Milo had just raised the bid. + +"One hundred and thirty-three" hollers Peter, fetching the tea +chest a belt. "One thirty-four do I hear? Make it one thirty- +three fifty. Fifty cents do I hear? Come, come! this is highway +robbery, gentlemen. Mr. Small--where are you?" + +But Eddie was talking to Saltmarsh. In a minute back he comes, +looking more worried than ever. Peter T. bawled and pounded and +beckoned at him with the mallet, but he only fidgetted--didn't know +what to do. + +"One thirty-three!" bellers Peter. "One thirty-three! Oh, how can +I look my grandmother's picture in the face after this? One +thirty-three--once! One thirty-three--twice! Third and last call! +One--thirty--" + +Then Eddie begun to raise his hand, but 'twas too late. + +"One thirty-three and SOLD! To Mr. Milo Thompson for one hundred +and thirty-three dollars!" + +And just then come a shriek from the piazza; the Duchess and "Irene +dear" had come out of the parlor. + +Well! Talk about crowing! The way that Thompson crowd rubbed it +in on the Smalls was enough to make you leave the dinner table. +They had the servants take in them dishes, piece by piece, and +every single article, down to the last butter plate, was steered +straight by the Small crowd. + +As for poor Eddie, when he come up to explain why he hadn't kept on +bidding, his wife put him out like he was a tin lamp. + +"Don't SPEAK to me!" says she. "Don't you DARE speak to me." + +He didn't dare. He just run up a storm sail and beat for harbor +back of the barn. And from the piazza Milo cackled vainglorious. + +Me and Cap'n Jonadab and Peter T. felt so sorry for Eddie, knowing +what he had coming to him from the Duchess, that we went out to see +him. He was setting on a wrecked hencoop, looking heart-broke but +puzzled. + +"'Twas that Saltmarsh made me lose my nerve," he says. "I thought +when he wouldn't bid there was something wrong with the dishes. +And there WAS something wrong, too. Now what was it?" + +"Maybe the price was too high," says I. + +"No, 'twa'n't that. I b'lieve yet he thought they were imitations. +Oh, if they only were!" + +And then, lo and behold you, around the corner comes Adoniram +Rogers. I'd have bet large that whatever conscience Adoniram was +born with had dried up and blown away years ago. But no; he'd +resurrected a remnant. + +"Mr. Small," stammered Mr. Rogers, "I'm sorry you feel bad about +not buying them dishes. I--I thought I'd ought to tell you--that +is to say, I-- Well, if you want another set, I cal'late I can get +it for you--that is, if you won't tell nobody." + +"ANOTHER set?" hollers Eddie, wide-eyed. "Anoth-- Do you mean to +say you've got MORE?" + +"Why, I ain't exactly got 'em now, but my nephew John keeps a +furniture store in South Boston, and he has lots of sets like that. +I bought that one off him." + +Peter T. Brown jumps to his feet. + +"Why, you outrageous robber!" he hollers. "Didn't you say those +dishes were old?" + +"I never said nothing, except that they were like the plate that +feller had on the piazza. And they was, too. YOU folks said they +was old, and I thought you'd ought to know, so--" + +Eddie Small threw up both hands. "Fakes!" he hollers. "Fakes! +AND THOMPSON PAID ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY-THREE DOLLARS FOR 'EM! +Boys, there's times when life's worth living. Have a drink." + +We went into the billard-room and took something; that is, Peter +and Eddie took that kind of something. Me and Jonadab took cigars. + +"Fellers," said Eddie, "drink hearty. I'm going in to tell my +wife. Fake dishes! And I beat Thompson on the davenport." + +He went away bubbling like a biling spring. After he was gone +Rogers looked thoughtful. + +"That's funny, too, ain't it?" he says. + +"What's funny?" we asked. + +"Why, about that sofy he calls a davenport. You see, I bought that +off John, too," says Adoniram. + + + + +HIS NATIVE HEATH + + +I never could quite understand why the folks at Wellmouth made me +selectman. I s'pose likely 'twas on account of Jonadab and me and +Peter Brown making such a go of the Old Home House and turning +Wellmouth Port from a sand fleas' paradise into a hospital where +city folks could have their bank accounts amputated and not suffer +more'n was necessary. Anyway, I was elected unanimous at town +meeting, and Peter was mighty anxious for me to take the job. + +"Barzilla," says Peter, "I jedge that a selectman is a sort of +dwarf alderman. Now, I've had friends who've been aldermen, and +they say it's a sure thing, like shaking with your own dice. If +you're straight, there's the honor and the advertisement; if you're +crooked, there's the graft. Either way the house wins. Go in, and +glory be with you." + +So I finally agreed to serve, and the very first meeting I went to, +the question of Asaph Blueworthy and the poorhouse comes up. Zoeth +Tiddit--he was town clerk--he puts it this way: + +"Gentlemen," he says, "we have here the usual application from +Asaph Blueworthy for aid from the town. I don't know's there's +much use for me to read it--it's tolerable familiar. 'Suffering +from lumbago and rheumatiz'--um, yes. 'Out of work'--um, just so. +'Respectfully begs that the board will'--etcetery and so forth. +Well, gentlemen, what's your pleasure?" + +Darius Gott, he speaks first, and dry and drawling as ever. "Out +of work, hey?" says Darius. "Mr. Chairman, I should like to ask if +anybody here remembers the time when Ase was IN work?" + +Nobody did, and Cap'n Benijah Poundberry--he was chairman at that +time--he fetches the table a welt with his starboard fist and comes +out emphatic. + +"Feller members," says he, "I don't know how the rest of you feel, +but it's my opinion that this board has done too much for that lazy +loafer already. Long's his sister, Thankful, lived, we couldn't +say nothing, of course. If she wanted to slave and work so's her +brother could live in idleness and sloth, why, that was her +business. There ain't any law against a body's making a fool of +herself, more's the pity. But she's been dead a year, and he's +done nothing since but live on those that'll trust him, and ask +help from the town. He ain't sick--except sick of work. Now, it's +my idea that, long's he's bound to be a pauper, he might's well be +treated as a pauper. Let's send him to the poorhouse." + +"But," says I, "he owns his place down there by the shore, don't +he?" + +All hands laughed--that is, all but Cap'n Benijah. "Own nothing," +says the cap'n. "The whole rat trap, from the keel to maintruck, +ain't worth more'n three hundred dollars, and I loaned Thankful +four hundred on it years ago, and the mortgage fell due last +September. Not a cent of principal, interest, nor rent have I got +since. Whether he goes to the poorhouse or not, he goes out of +that house of mine to-morrer. A man can smite me on one cheek and +maybe I'll turn t'other, but when, after I HAVE turned it, he finds +fault 'cause my face hurts his hand, then I rise up and quit; you +hear ME!" + +Nobody could help hearing him, unless they was deefer than the +feller that fell out of the balloon and couldn't hear himself +strike, so all hands agreed that sending Asaph Blueworthy to the +poorhouse would be a good thing. 'Twould be a lesson to Ase, and +would give the poorhouse one more excuse for being on earth. +Wellmouth's a fairly prosperous town, and the paupers had died, one +after the other, and no new ones had come, until all there was left +in the poorhouse was old Betsy Mullen, who was down with creeping +palsy, and Deborah Badger, who'd been keeper ever since her husband +died. + +The poorhouse property was valuable, too, specially for a summer +cottage, being out on the end of Robbin's Point, away from the +town, and having a fine view right across the bay. Zoeth Tiddit +was a committee of one with power from the town to sell the place, +but he hadn't found a customer yet. And if he did sell it, what to +do with Debby was more or less of a question. She'd kept poorhouse +for years, and had no other home nor no relations to go to. +Everybody liked her, too--that is, everybody but Cap'n Benijah. +He was down on her 'cause she was a Spiritualist and believed in +fortune tellers and such. The cap'n, bein' a deacon of the Come- +Outer persuasion, was naturally down on folks who wasn't broad- +minded enough to see that his partic'lar crack in the roof was the +only way to crawl through to glory. + +Well, we voted to send Asaph to the poorhouse, and then I was +appointed a delegate to see him and tell him he'd got to go. I +wasn't enthusiastic over the job, but everybody said I was exactly +the feller for the place. + +"To tell you the truth," drawls Darius, "you, being a stranger, are +the only one that Ase couldn't talk over. He's got a tongue that's +buttered on both sides and runs on ball bearings. If I should see +him he'd work on my sympathies till I'd lend him the last two-cent +piece in my baby's bank." + +So, as there wa'n't no way out of it, I drove down to Asaph's that +afternoon. He lived off on a side road by the shore, in a little, +run-down shanty that was as no account as he was. When I moored my +horse to the "heavenly-wood" tree by what was left of the fence, I +would have bet my sou'wester that I caught a glimpse of Brother +Blueworthy, peeking round the corner of the house. But when I +turned that corner there was nobody in sight, although the bu'sted +wash-bench, with a cranberry crate propping up its lame end, was +shaking a little, as if some one had set on it recent. + +I knocked on the door, but nobody answered. After knocking three +or four times, I tried kicking, and the second kick raised, from +somewheres inside, a groan that was as lonesome a sound as ever I +heard. No human noise in my experience come within a mile of it +for dead, downright misery--unless, maybe, it's Cap'n Jonadab +trying to sing in meeting Sundays. + +"Who's that?" wails Ase from 'tother side of the door. "Did +anybody knock?" + +"Knock!" says I. "I all but kicked your everlasting derelict out +of water. It's me, Wingate--one of the selectmen. Tumble up, +there! I want to talk to you." + +Blueworthy didn't exactly tumble, so's to speak, but the door +opened, and he comes shuffling and groaning into sight. His face +was twisted up and he had one hand spread-fingered on the small of +his back. + +"Dear, dear!" says he. "I'm dreadful sorry to have kept you +waiting, Mr. Wingate. I've been wrastling with this turrible +lumbago, and I'm 'fraid it's affecting my hearing. I'll tell you--" + +"Yes--well, you needn't mind," I says; "'cordin' to common tell, +you was born with that same kind of lumbago, and it's been getting +no better fast ever since. Jest drag your sufferings out onto this +bench and come to anchor. I've got considerable to say, and I'm in +a hurry." + +Well, he grunted, and groaned, and scuffled along. When he'd got +planted on the bench he didn't let up any--kept on with the misery. + +"Look here," says I, losing patience, "when you get through with +the Job business I'll heave ahead and talk. Don't let me interrupt +the lamentations on no account. Finished? All right. Now, you +listen to me." + +And then I told him just how matters stood. His house was to be +seized on the mortgage, and he was to move to the poorhouse next +day. You never see a man more surprised or worse cut up. Him to +the poorhouse? HIM--one of the oldest families on the Cape? You'd +think he was the Grand Panjandrum. Well, the dignity didn't work, +so he commenced on the lumbago; and that didn't work, neither. But +do you think he give up the ship? Not much; he commenced to +explain why he hadn't been able to earn a living and the reasons +why he'd ought to have another chance. Talk! Well, if I hadn't +been warned he'd have landed ME, all right. I never heard a better +sermon nor one with more long words in it. + +I actually pitied him. It seemed a shame that a feller who could +argue like that should have to go to the poorhouse; he'd ought to +run a summer hotel--when the boarders kicked 'cause there was +yeller-eyed beans in the coffee he would be the one to explain that +they was lucky to get beans like that without paying extra for 'em. +Thinks I, "I'm an idiot, but I'll make him one more offer." + +So I says: "See here, Mr. Blueworthy, I could use another man in +the stable at the Old Home House. If you want the job you can have +it. ONLY, you'll have to work, and work hard." + +Well, sir, would you believe it?--his face fell like a cook-book +cake. That kind of chance wa'n't what he was looking for. He +shuffled and hitched around, and finally he says: "I'll--Ill +consider your offer," he says. + +That was too many for me. "Well, I'll be yardarmed!" says I, and +went off and left him "considering." I don't know what his +considerations amounted to. All I know is that next day they took +him to the poorhouse. + +And from now on this yarn has got to be more or less hearsay. I'll +have to put this and that together, like the woman that made the +mince meat. Some of the facts I got from a cousin of Deborah +Badger's, some of them I wormed out of Asaph himself one time when +he'd had a jug come down from the city and was feeling toler'ble +philanthropic and conversationy. But I guess they're straight +enough. + +Seems that, while I was down notifying Blueworthy, Cap'n Poundberry +had gone over to the poorhouse to tell the Widow Badger about her +new boarder. The widow was glad to hear the news. + +"He'll be somebody to talk to, at any rate," says she. "Poor old +Betsy Mullen ain't exactly what you'd call company for a sociable +body. But I'll mind what you say, Cap'n Benijah. It takes more +than a slick tongue to come it over me. I'll make that lazy man +work or know the reason why." + +So when Asaph arrived--per truck wagon--at three o'clock the next +afternoon, Mrs. Badger was ready for him. She didn't wait to shake +hands or say: "Glad to see you." No, sir! The minute he landed +she sent him out by the barn with orders to chop a couple of cords +of oak slabs that was piled there. He groaned and commenced to +develop lumbago symptoms, but she cured 'em in a hurry by remarking +that her doctor's book said vig'rous exercise was the best physic, +for that kind of disease, and so he must chop hard. She waited +till she heard the ax "chunk" once or twice, and then she went into +the house, figgering that she'd gained the first lap, anyhow. + +But in an hour or so it come over her all of a sudden that 'twas +awful quiet out by the woodpile. She hurried to the back door, and +there was Ase, setting on the ground in the shade, his eyes shut +and his back against the chopping block, and one poor lonesome slab +in front of him with a couple of splinters knocked off it. That +was his afternoon's work. + +Maybe you think the widow wa'n't mad. She tip-toed out to the +wood-pile, grabbed her new boarder by the coat collar and shook him +till his head played "Johnny Comes Marching Home" against the +chopping block. + +"You lazy thing, you!" says she, with her eyes snapping. "Wake up +and tell me what you mean by sleeping when I told you to work." + +"Sleep?" stutters Asaph, kind of reaching out with his mind for a +life-preserver. "I--I wa'n't asleep." + +Well, I don't think he had really meant to sleep. I guess he just +set down to think of a good brand new excuse for not working, and +kind of drowsed off. + +"You wa'n't hey?" says Deborah. "Then 'twas the best imitation +ever _I_ see. What WAS you doing, if 'tain't too personal a +question?" + +"I--I guess I must have fainted. I'm subject to such spells. You +see, ma'am, I ain't been well for--" + +"Yes, I know. I understand all about that. Now, you march your +boots into that house, where I can keep an eye on you, and help me +get supper. To-morrer morning you'll get up at five o'clock and +chop wood till breakfast time. If I think you've chopped enough, +maybe you'll get the breakfast. If I don't think so you'll keep on +chopping. Now, march!" + +Blueworthy, he marched, but 'twa'n't as joyful a parade as an Odd +Fellers' picnic. He could see he'd made a miscue--a clean miss, +and the white ball in the pocket. He knew, too, that a lot +depended on his making a good impression the first thing, and +instead of that he'd gone and "foozled his approach," as that city +feller said last summer when he ran the catboat plump into the end +of the pier. Deborah, she went out into the kitchen, but she +ordered Ase to stay in the dining room and set the table; told him +to get the dishes out of the closet. + +All the time he was doing it he kept thinking about the mistake +he'd made, and wondering if there wa'n't some way to square up and +get solid with the widow. Asaph was a good deal of a philosopher, +and his motto was--so he told me afterward, that time I spoke of +when he'd been investigating the jug--his motto was: "Every hard +shell has a soft spot somewheres, and after you find it, it's +easy." If he could only find out something that Deborah Badger was +particular interested in, then he believed he could make a ten- +strike. And, all at once, down in the corner of the closet, he see +a big pile of papers and magazines. The one on top was the Banner +of Light, and underneath that was the Mysterious Magazine. + +Then he remembered, all of a sudden, the town talk about Debby's +believing in mediums and spooks and fortune tellers and such. And +he commenced to set up and take notice. + +At the supper table he was as mum as a rundown clock; just set in +his chair and looked at Mrs. Badger. She got nervous and fidgety +after a spell, and fin'lly bu'sts out with: "What are you staring +at me like that for?" + +Ase kind of jumped and looked surprised. "Staring?" says he. "Was +I staring?" + +"I should think you was! Is my hair coming down, or what is it?" + +He didn't answer for a minute, but he looked over her head and then +away acrost the room, as if he was watching something that moved. +"Your husband was a short, kind of fleshy man, as I remember, +wa'n't he?" says he, absent-minded like. + +"Course he was. But what in the world--" + +"'Twa'n't him, then. I thought not." + +"HIM? My husband? What DO you mean?" + +And then Asaph begun to put on the fine touches. He leaned acrost +the table and says he, in a sort of mysterious whisper: "Mrs. +Badger," says he, "do you ever see things? Not common things, but +strange--shadders like?" + +"Mercy me!" says the widow. "No. Do YOU?" + +"Sometimes seems's if I did. Jest now, as I set here looking at +you, it seemed as if I saw a man come up and put his hand on your +shoulder." + +Well, you can imagine Debby. She jumped out of her chair and +whirled around like a kitten in a fit. "Good land!" she hollers. +"Where? What? Who was it?" + +"I don't know who 'twas. His face was covered up; but it kind of +come to me--a communication, as you might say--that some day that +man was going to marry you." + +"Land of love! Marry ME? You're crazy! I'm scart to death." + +Ase shook his head, more mysterious than ever. "I don't know," +says he. "Maybe I am crazy. But I see that same man this +afternoon, when I was in that trance, and--" + +"Trance! Do you mean to tell me you was in a TRANCE out there by +the wood-pile? Are you a MEDIUM?" + +Well, Ase, he wouldn't admit that he was a medium exactly, but he +give her to understand that there wa'n't many mediums in this +country that could do business 'longside of him when he was really +working. 'Course he made believe he didn't want to talk about such +things, and, likewise of course, that made Debby all the more +anxious TO talk about 'em. She found out that her new boarder was +subject to trances and had second-sight and could draw horoscopes, +and I don't know what all. Particular she wanted to know more +about that "man" that was going to marry her, but Asaph wouldn't +say much about him. + +"All I can say is," says Ase, "that he didn't appear to me like a +common man. He was sort of familiar looking, and yet there was +something distinguished about him, something uncommon, as you might +say. But this much comes to me strong: He's a man any woman would +be proud to get, and some time he's coming to offer you a good +home. You won't have to keep poorhouse all your days." + +So the widow went up to her room with what you might call a case of +delightful horrors. She was too scart to sleep and frightened to +stay awake. She kept two lamps burning all night. + +As for Asaph, he waited till 'twas still, and then he crept +downstairs to the closet, got an armful of Banners of Light and +Mysterious Magazines, and went back to his room to study up. Next +morning there was nothing said about wood chopping--Ase was busy +making preparations to draw Debby's horoscope. + +You can see how things went after that. Blueworthy was star +boarder at that poorhouse. Mrs Badger was too much interested in +spooks and fortunes to think of asking him to work, and if she did +hint at such a thing, he'd have another "trance" and see that +"man," and 'twas all off. And we poor fools of selectmen was +congratulating ourselves that Ase Blueworthy was doing something +toward earning his keep at last. And then--'long in July 'twas-- +Betsy Mullen died. + +One evening, just after the Fourth, Deborah and Asaph was in the +dining room, figgering out fortunes with a pack of cards, when +there comes a knock at the door. The widow answered it, and there +was an old chap, dressed in a blue suit, and a stunning pretty girl +in what these summer women make believe is a sea-going rig. And +both of 'em was sopping wet through, and as miserable as two hens +in a rain barrel. + +It turned out that the man's name was Lamont, with a colonel's +pennant and a million-dollar mark on the foretop of it, and the +girl was his daughter Mabel. They'd been paying six dollars a day +each for sea air and clam soup over to the Wattagonsett House, in +Harniss, and either the soup or the air had affected the colonel's +head till he imagined he could sail a boat all by his ownty-donty. +Well, he'd sailed one acrost the bay and got becalmed, and then the +tide took him in amongst the shoals at the mouth of Wellmouth +Crick, and there, owing to a mixup of tide, shoals, dark, and an +overdose of foolishness, the boat had upset and foundered and the +Lamonts had waded half a mile or so to shore. Once on dry land, +they'd headed up the bluff for the only port in sight, which was +the poorhouse--although they didn't know it. + +The widow and Asaph made 'em as comfortable as they could; rigged +'em up in dry clothes which had belonged to departed paupers, and +got 'em something to eat. The Lamonts was what they called +"enchanted" with the whole establishment. + +"This," says the colonel, with his mouth full of brown bread, "is +delightful, really delightful. The New England hospitality that we +read about. So free from ostentation and conventionality." + +When you stop to think of it, you'd scurcely expect to run acrost +much ostentation at the poorhouse, but, of course, the colonel +didn't know, and he praised everything so like Sam Hill, that the +widow was ashamed to break the news to him. And Ase kept quiet, +too, you can be sure of that. As for Mabel, she was one of them +gushy, goo-gooey kind of girls, and she was as struck with the +shebang as her dad. She said the house itself was a "perfect +dear." + +And after supper they paired off and got to talking, the colonel +with Mrs. Badger, and Asaph with Mabel. Now, I can just imagine +how Ase talked to that poor, unsuspecting young female. He sartin +did love an audience, and here was one that didn't know him nor his +history, nor nothing. He played the sad and mysterious. You could +see that he was a blighted bud, all right. He was a man with a +hidden sorrer, and the way he'd sigh and change the subject when it +come to embarrassing questions was enough to bring tears to a +graven image, let alone a romantic girl just out of boarding +school. + +Then, after a spell of this, Mabel wanted to be shown the house, so +as to see the "sweet, old-fashioned rooms." And she wanted papa to +see 'em, too, so Ase led the way, like the talking man in the dime +museum. And the way them Lamonts agonized over every rag mat, and +corded bedstead was something past belief. When they was saying +good-night--they HAD to stay all night because their own clothes +wa'n't dry and those they had on were more picturesque than +stylish--Mabel turns to her father and says she: + +"Papa, dear," she says, "I believe that at last we've found the +very thing we've been looking for." + +And the colonel said yes, he guessed they had. Next morning they +was up early and out enjoying the view; it IS about the best view +alongshore, and they had a fit over it. When breakfast was done +the Lamonts takes Asaph one side and the colonel says: + +"Mr. Blueworthy," he says, "my daughter and I am very much pleased +with the Cape and the Cape people. Some time ago we made up our +minds that if we could find the right spot we would build a summer +home here. Preferably we wish to purchase a typical, old-time, +Colonial homestead and remodel it, retaining, of course, all the +original old-fashioned flavor. Cost is not so much the +consideration as location and the house itself. We are--ahem!-- +well, frankly, your place here suits us exactly." + +"We adore it," says Mabel, emphatic. + +"Mr. Blueworthy," goes on the colonel, "will you sell us your home? +I am prepared to pay a liberal price." + +Poor Asaph was kind of throwed on his beam ends, so's to speak. He +hemmed and hawed, and finally had to blurt out that he didn't own +the place. The Lamonts was astonished. The colonel wanted to know +if it belonged to Mrs. Badger. + +"Why, no," says Ase. "The fact is--that is to say--you see--" + +And just then the widow opened the kitchen window and called to +'em. + +"Colonel Lamont," says she, "there's a sailboat beating up the +harbor, and I think the folks on it are looking for you." + +The colonel excused himself, and run off down the hill toward the +back side of the point, and Asaph was left alone with the girl. He +see, I s'pose, that here was his chance to make the best yarn out +of what was bound to come out anyhow in a few minutes. So he +fetched a sigh that sounded as if 'twas racking loose the +foundations and commenced. + +He asked Mabel if she was prepared to hear something that would +shock her turrible, something that would undermine her confidence +in human natur'. She was a good deal upset, and no wonder, but she +braced up and let on that she guessed she could stand it. So then +he told her that her dad and her had been deceived, that that house +wa'n't his nor Mrs. Badger's; 'twas the Wellmouth poor farm, and he +was a pauper. + +She was shocked, all right enough, but afore she had a chance to +ask a question, he begun to tell her the story of his life. 'Twas +a fine chance for him to spread himself, and I cal'late he done it +to the skipper's taste. He told her how him and his sister had +lived in their little home, their own little nest, over there by +the shore, for years and years. He led her out to where she could +see the roof of his old shanty over the sand hills, and he wiped +his eyes and raved over it. You'd think that tumble-down shack was +a hunk out of paradise; Adam and Eve's place in the Garden was a +short lobster 'longside of it. Then, he said, he was took down +with an incurable disease. He tried and tried to get along, but +'twas no go. He mortgaged the shanty to a grasping money lender-- +meanin' Poundberry--and that money was spent. Then his sister +passed away and his heart broke; so they took him to the poorhouse. + +"Miss Lamont," says he, "good-by. Sometimes in the midst of your +fashionable career, in your gayety and so forth, pause," he says, +"and give a thought to the broken-hearted pauper who has told you +his life tragedy." + +Well, now, you take a green girl, right fresh from novels and music +lessons, and spring that on her--what can you expect? Mabel, she +cried and took on dreadful. + +"Oh, Mr. Blueworthy!" says she, grabbing his hand. "I'm SO glad +you told me. I'm SO glad! Cheer up," she says. "I respect you +more than ever, and my father and I will--" + +Just then the colonel comes puffing up the hill. He looked as if +he'd heard news. + +"My child," he says in a kind of horrified whisper, "can you +realize that we have actually passed the night in the--in the +ALMSHOUSE?" + +Mabel held up her hand. "Hush, papa," she says. "Hush. I know +all about it. Come away, quick; I've got something very important +to say to you." + +And she took her dad's arm and went off down the hill, mopping her +pretty eyes with her handkerchief and smiling back, every once in a +while, through her tears, at Asaph. + +Now, it happened that there was a selectmen's meeting that +afternoon at four o'clock. I was on hand, and so was Zoeth Tiddit +and most of the others. Cap'n Poundberry and Darius Gott were +late. Zoeth was as happy as a clam at high water; he'd sold the +poorhouse property that very day to a Colonel Lamont, from Harniss, +who wanted it for a summer place. + +"And I got the price we set on it, too," says Zoeth. "But that +wa'n't the funniest part of it. Seems's old man Lamont and his +daughter was very much upset because Debby Badger and Ase +Blueworthy would be turned out of house and home 'count of the +place being sold. The colonel was hot foot for giving 'em a check +for five hundred dollars to square things; said his daughter'd made +him promise he would. Says I: 'You can give it to Debby, if you +want to, but don't lay a copper on that Blueworthy fraud.' Then I +told him the truth about Ase. He couldn't hardly believe it, but I +finally convinced him, and he made out the check to Debby. I took +it down to her myself just after dinner. Ase was there, and his +eyes pretty nigh popped out of his head. + +"'Look here,' I says to him; 'if you'd been worth a continental you +might have had some of this. As it is, you'll be farmed out +somewheres--that's what'll happen to YOU.'" + +And as Zoeth was telling this, in comes Cap'n Benijah. He was +happy, too. + +"I cal'late the Lamonts must be buying all the property alongshore," +he says when he heard the news. "I sold that old shack that I took +from Blueworthy to that Lamont girl to-day for three hundred and +fifty dollars. She wouldn't say what she wanted of it, neither, and +I didn't care much; _I_ was glad to get rid of it." + +"_I_ can tell you what she wanted of it," says somebody behind us. +We turned round and 'twas Gott; he'd come in. "I just met Squire +Foster," he says, "and the squire tells me that that Lamont girl +come into his office with the bill of sale for the property you +sold her and made him deed it right over to Ase Blueworthy, as a +present from her." + +"WHAT?" says all hands, Poundberry loudest of all. + +"That's right," said Darius. "She told the squire a long +rigamarole about what a martyr Ase was, and how her dad was going +to do some thing for him, but that she was going to give him his +home back again with her own money, money her father had given her +to buy a ring with, she said, though that ain't reasonable, of +course--nobody'd pay that much for a ring. The squire tried to +tell her what a no-good Ase was, but she froze him quicker'n-- +Where you going, Cap'n Benije?" + +"I'm going down to that poorhouse," hollers Poundberry. "I'll find +out the rights and wrongs of this thing mighty quick." + +We all said we'd go with him, and we went, six in one carryall. As +we hove in sight of the poorhouse a buggy drove away from it, going +in t'other direction. + +"That looks like the Baptist minister's buggy," says Darius. "What +on earth's he been down here for?" + +Nobody could guess. As we run alongside the poorhouse door, Ase +Blueworthy stepped out, leading Debby Badger. She was as red as an +auction flag. + +"By time, Ase Blueworthy!" hollers Cap'n Benijah, starting to get +out of the carryall, "what do you mean by-- Debby, what are you +holding that rascal's hand for?" + +But Ase cut him short. "Cap'n Poundberry," says he, dignified as a +boy with a stiff neck, "I might pass over your remarks to me, but +when you address my wife--" + +"Your WIFE?" hollers everybody--everybody but the cap'n; he only +sort of gurgled. + +"My wife," says Asaph. "When you men--church members, too, some of +you--sold the house over her head, I'm proud to say that I, having +a home once more, was able to step for'ard and ask her to share it +with me. We was married a few minutes ago," he says. + +"And, oh, Cap'n Poundberry!" cried Debby, looking as if this was +the most wonderful part of it--"oh, Cap'n Poundberry!" she says, +"we've known for a long time that some man--an uncommon kind of +man--was coming to offer me a home some day, but even Asaph didn't +know 'twas himself; did you, Asaph?" + +We selectmen talked the thing over going home, but Cap'n Benijah +didn't speak till we was turning in at his gate. Then he fetched +his knee a thump with his fist, and says he, in the most disgusted +tone ever I heard: + +"A house and lot for nothing," he says, "a wife to do the work for +him, and five hundred dollars to spend! Sometimes the way this +world's run gives me moral indigestion." + +Which was tolerable radical for a Come-Outer to say, seems to me. + + + + +JONESY + + +'Twas Peter T. Brown that suggested it, you might know. And, as +likewise you might know, 'twas Cap'n Jonadab that done the most of +the growling. + +"They ain't no sense in it, Peter," says he. "Education's all +right in its place, but 'tain't no good out of it. Why, one of my +last voyages in the schooner Samuel Emory, I had a educated cook, +feller that had graduated from one of them correspondence schools. +He had his diploma framed and hung up on the wall of the galley +along with tintypes of two or three of his wives, and pictures cut +out of the Police News, and the like of that. And cook! Why, say! +one of the fo'mast hands ate half a dozen of that cook's saleratus +biscuit and fell overboard. If he hadn't been tangled up in his +cod line, so we could haul him up by that, he'd have been down yet. +He'd never have riz of his own accord, not with them biscuits in +him. And as for his pie! the mate ate one of them bakeshop paper +plates one time, thinking 'twas under crust; and he kept sayin' how +unusual tender 'twas, at that. Now, what good was education to +that cook? Why--" + +"Cut it out!" says Peter T., disgusted. "Who's talking about +cooks? These fellers ain't cooks--they're--" + +"I know. They're waiters. Now, there 'tis again. When I give an +order and there's any back talk, I want to understand it. You take +a passel of college fellers, like you want to hire for waiters. +S'pose I tell one of 'em to do something, and he answers back in +Greek or Hindoo, or such. _I_ can't tell what he says. I sha'n't +know whether to bang him over the head or give him a cigar. What's +the matter with the waiters we had last year? They talked Irish, +of course, but I understood the most of that, and when I didn't +'twas safe to roll up my sleeves and begin arguing. But--" + +"Oh, ring off!" says Peter. "Twenty-three!" + +And so they had it, back and forth. I didn't say nothing. I knew +how 'twould end. If Peter T. Brown thought 'twas good judgment to +hire a mess of college boys for waiters, fellers who could order up +the squab in pigeon-English and the ham in hog-Latin, I didn't +care, so long as the orders and boarders got filled and the payroll +didn't have growing pains. I had considerable faith in Brown's +ideas, and he was as set on this one as a Brahma hen on a plaster +nest-egg. + +"It'll give tone to the shebang," says he, referring to the hotel; +"and we want to keep the Old Home House as high-toned as a ten- +story organ factory. And as for education, that's a matter of +taste. Me, I'd just as soon have a waiter that bashfully admitted +'Wee, my dam,' as I would one that pushed 'Shur-r-e, Moike!' edge- +ways out of one corner of his mouth and served the lettuce on top +of the lobster, from principle, to keep the green above the red. +When it comes to tone and tin, Cap'n, you trust your Uncle Pete; he +hasn't been sniffling around the tainted-money bunch all these days +with a cold in his head." + +So it went his way finally, as I knew it would, and when the Old +Home opened up on June first, the college waiters was on hand. And +they was as nice a lot of boys as ever handled plates and wiped +dishes for their board and four dollars a week. They was poor, of +course, and working their passage through what they called the +"varsity," but they attended to business and wa'n't a mite set up +by their learning. + +And they made a hit with the boarders, especially the women folks. +Take the crankiest old battle ship that ever cruised into breakfast +with diamond headlights showing and a pretty daughter in tow, and +she would eat lumpy oatmeal and scorched eggs and never sound a +distress signal. How could she, with one of them nice-looking +gentlemanly waiters hanging over her starboard beam and purring, +"Certainly, madam," and "Two lumps or one, madam?" into her ear? +Then, too, she hadn't much time to find fault with the grub, having +to keep one eye on the daughter. The amount of complaints that +them college boys saved in the first fortnight was worth their +season's wages, pretty nigh. Before June was over the Old Home was +full up and we had to annex a couple of next-door houses for the +left-overs. + +I was skipper for one of them houses, and Jonadab run the other. +Each of us had a cook and a waiter, a housekeeper and an up-stairs +girl. My housekeeper was the boss prize in the package. Her name +was Mabel Seabury, and she was young and quiet and as pretty as the +first bunch of Mayflowers in the spring. And a lady--whew! The +first time I set opposite to her at table I made up my mind I +wouldn't drink out of my sasser if I scalded the lining off my +throat. + +She was city born and brought up, but she wa'n't one of your common +"He! he! ain't you turrible!" lunch-counter princesses, with a head +like a dandelion gone to seed and a fish-net waist. You bet she +wa'n't! Her dad had had money once, afore he tried to beat out +Jonah and swallow the stock exchange whale. After that he was +skipper of a little society library up to Cambridge, and she kept +house for him. Then he died and left her his blessing, and some of +Peter Brown's wife's folks, that knew her when she was well off, +got her the job of housekeeper here with us. + +The only trouble she made was first along, and that wa'n't her +fault. I thought at one time we'd have to put up a wire fence to +keep them college waiters away from her. They hung around her like +a passel of gulls around a herring boat. She was nice to 'em, too, +but when you're just so nice to everybody and not nice enough to +any special one, the prospect ain't encouraging. So they give it +up, but there wa'n't a male on the place, from old Dr. Blatt, mixer +of Blatt's Burdock Bitters and Blatt's Balm for Beauty, down to the +boy that emptied the ashes, who wouldn't have humped himself on all +fours and crawled eight miles if she'd asked him to. And that +includes me and Cap'n Jonadab, and we're about as tough a couple of +women-proof old hulks as you'll find afloat. + +Jonadab took a special interest in her. It pretty nigh broke his +heart to think she was running my house instead of his. He thought +she'd ought to be married and have a home of her own. + +"Well," says I, "why don't she get married then? She could drag +out and tie up any single critter of the right sex in this +neighborhood with both hands behind her back." + +"Humph!" says he. "I s'pose you'd have her marry one of these +soup-toting college chaps, wouldn't you? Then they could live on +Greek for breakfast and Latin for dinner and warm over the leavings +for supper. No, sir! a girl hasn't no right to get married unless +she gets a man with money. There's a deck-load of millionaires +comes here every summer, and I'm goin' to help her land one of 'em. +It's my duty as a Christian," says he. + +One evening, along the second week in July 'twas, I got up from the +supper-table and walked over toward the hotel, smoking, and +thinking what I'd missed in not having a girl like that set +opposite me all these years. And, in the shadder of the big bunch +of lilacs by the gate, I see a feller standing, a feller with a +leather bag in his hand, a stranger. + +"Good evening," says I. "Looking for the hotel, was you?" + +He swung round, kind of lazy-like, and looked at me. Then I +noticed how big he was. Seemed to me he was all of seven foot high +and broad according. And rigged up--my soul! He had on a wide, +felt hat, with a whirligig top onto it, and a light checked suit, +and gloves, and slung more style than a barber on Sunday. If I'D +wore them kind of duds they'd have had me down to Danvers, clanking +chains and picking straws, but on this young chap they looked fine. + +"Good evening," says the seven-footer, looking down and speaking to +me cheerful. "Is this the Old Ladies' Home--the Old Home House, I +should say?" + +"Yes, sir," says I, looking up reverent at that hat. + +"Right," he says. "Will you be good enough to tell me where I can +find the proprietor?" + +"Well," says I, "I'm him; that is, I'm one of him. But I'm afraid +we can't accommodate you, mister, not now. We ain't got a room +nowheres that ain't full." + +He knocked the ashes off his cigarette. "I'm not looking for a +room," says he, "except as a side issue. I'm looking for a job." + +"A job!" I sings out. "A JOB?" + +"Yes. I understand you employ college men as waiters. I'm from +Harvard, and--" + +"A waiter?" I says, so astonished that I could hardly swaller. "Be +you a waiter?" + +"_I_ don't know. I've been told so. Our coach used to say I was +the best waiter on the team. At any rate I'll try the experiment." + +Soon's ever I could gather myself together I reached across and +took hold of his arm. + +"Son," says I, "you come with me and turn in. You'll feel better +in the morning. I don't know where I'll put you, unless it's the +bowling alley, but I guess that's your size. You oughtn't to get +this way at your age." + +He laughed a big, hearty laugh, same as I like to hear. "It's +straight," he says. "I mean it. I want a job." + +"But what for? You ain't short of cash?" + +"You bet!" he says. "Strapped." + +"Then," says I, "you come with me to-night and to-morrer morning +you go somewheres and sell them clothes you've got on. You'll make +more out of that than you will passing pie, if you passed it for a +year." + +He laughed again, but he said he was bound to be a waiter and if I +couldn't help him he'd have to hunt up the other portion of the +proprietor. So I told him to stay where he was, and I went off and +found Peter T. You'd ought to seen Peter stare when we hove in +sight of the candidate. + +"Thunder!" says he. "Is this Exhibit One, Barzilla? Where'd you +pick up the Chinese giant?" + +I done the polite, mentioning Brown's name, hesitating on t'other +chap's. + +"Er-Jones," says the human lighthouse. "Er-yes; Jones." + +"Glad to meet you, Mr. Jones," says Peter. "So you want to be a +waiter, do you? For how much per?" + +"Oh, I don't know. I'll begin at the bottom, being a green hand. +Twenty a week or so; whatever you're accustomed to paying." + +Brown choked. "The figure's all right," he says, "only it covers a +month down here." + +"Right!" says Jones, not a bit shook up. "A month goes." + +Peter stepped back and looked him over, beginning with the tan +shoes and ending with the whirligig hat. + +"Jonesy," says he, finally, "you're on. Take him to the servants' +quarters, Wingate." + +A little later, when I had the chance and had Brown alone, I says +to him: + +"Peter," says I, "for the land sakes what did you hire the emperor +for? A blind man could see HE wa'n't no waiter. And we don't need +him anyhow; no more'n a cat needs three tails. Why--" + +But he was back at me before I could wink. "Need him?" he says. +"Why, Barzilla, we need him more than the old Harry needs a +conscience. Take a bird's-eye view of him! Size him up! He puts +all the rest of the Greek statues ten miles in the shade. If I +could only manage to get his picture in the papers we'd have all +the romantic old maids in Boston down here inside of a week; and +there's enough of THEM to keep one hotel going till judgment. Need +him? Whew!" + +Next morning we was at the breakfast-table in my branch +establishment, me and Mabel and the five boarders. All hands was +doing their best to start a famine in the fruit market, and Dr. +Blatt was waving a banana and cheering us with a yarn about an old +lady that his Burdock Bitters had h'isted bodily out of the tomb. +He was at the most exciting part, the bitters and the undertaker +coming down the last lap neck and neck, and an even bet who'd win +the patient, when the kitchen door opens and in marches the waiter +with the tray full of dishes of "cereal." Seems to me 'twas +chopped hay we had that morning--either that or shavings; I always +get them breakfast foods mixed up. + +But 'twa'n't the hay that made everybody set up and take notice. +'Twas the waiter himself. Our regular steward was a spindling +little critter with curls and eye-glasses who answered to the hail +of "Percy." This fellow clogged up the scenery like a pet +elephant, and was down in the shipping list as "Jones." + +The doc left his invalid hanging on the edge of the grave, and +stopped and stared. Old Mrs. Bounderby h'isted the gold-mounted +double spyglass she had slung round her neck and took an +observation. Her daughter "Maizie" fetched a long breath and shut +her eyes, like she'd seen her finish and was resigned to it. + +"Well, Mr. Jones," says I, soon's I could get my breath, "this is +kind of unexpected, ain't it? Thought you was booked for the main +deck." + +"Yes, sir," he says, polite as a sewing-machine agent, "I was, but +Percy and I have exchanged. Cereal this morning, madam?" + +Mrs. Bounderby took her measure of shavings and Jones's measure at +the same time. She had him labeled "Danger" right off; you could +tell that by the way she spread her wings over "Maizie." But I +wa'n't watching her just then. I was looking at Mabel Seabury-- +looking and wondering. + +The housekeeper was white as the tablecloth. She stared at the +Jones man as if she couldn't believe her eyes, and her breath come +short and quick. I thought sure she was going to cry. And what +she ate of that meal wouldn't have made a lunch for a hearty +humming-bird. + +When 'twas finished I went out on the porch to think things over. +The dining room winder was open and Jonesy was clearing the table. +All of a sudden I heard him say, low and earnest: + +"Well, aren't you going to speak to me?" + +The answer was in a girl's voice, and I knew the voice. It said: + +"You! YOU! How COULD you? Why did you come?" + +"You didn't think I could stay away, did you?" + +"But how did you know I was here? I tried so hard to keep it a +secret." + +"It took me a month, but I worked it out finally. Aren't you glad +to see me?" + +She burst out crying then, quiet, but as if her heart was broke. + +"Oh!" she sobs. "How could you be so cruel! And they've been so +kind to me here." + +I went away then, thinking harder than ever. At dinner Jonesy done +the waiting, but Mabel wa'n't on deck. She had a headache, the +cook said, and was lying down. 'Twas the same way at supper, and +after supper Peter Brown comes to me, all broke up, and says he: + +"There's merry clink to pay," he says. "Mabel's going to leave." + +"No?" says I. "She ain't neither!" + +"Yes, she is. She says she's going to-morrer. She won't tell me +why, and I've argued with her for two hours. She's going to quit, +and I'd rather enough sight quit myself. What'll we do?" says he. + +I couldn't help him none, and he went away, moping and miserable. +All round the place everybody was talking about the "lovely" new +waiter, and to hear the girls go on you'd think the Prince of Wales +had landed. Jonadab was the only kicker, and he said 'twas bad +enough afore, but now that new dude had shipped, 'twa'n't the place +for a decent, self-respecting man. + +"How you goin' to order that Grand Panjandrum around?" he says. +"Great land of Goshen! I'd as soon think of telling the Pope of +Rome to empty a pail of swill as I would him. Why don't he stay to +home and be a tailor's sign or something? Not prance around here +with his high-toned airs. I'm glad you've got him, Barzilla, and +not me." + +Well, most of that was plain jealousy, so I didn't contradict. +Besides I was too busy thinking. By eight o'clock I'd made up my +mind and I went hunting for Jones. + +I found him, after a while, standing by the back door and staring +up at the chamber winders as if he missed something. I asked him +to come along with me. Told him I had a big cargo of talk aboard, +and wouldn't be able to cruise on an even keel till I'd unloaded +some of it. So he fell into my wake, looking puzzled, and in a +jiffy we was planted in the rocking chairs up in my bedroom. + +"Look here," says I, "Mr.--Mr.--" + +"Jones," says he. + +"Oh, yes--Jones. It's a nice name." + +"I remember it beautifully," says he, smiling. + +"All right, Mr. Jones. Now, to begin with, we'll agree that it +ain't none of my darn business, and I'm an old gray-headed nosey, +and the like of that. But, being that I AM old--old enough to be +your dad, though that's my only recommend for the job--I'm going to +preach a little sermon. My text is found in the Old Home Hotel, +Wellmouth, first house on the left. It's Miss Seabury," says I. + +He was surprised, I guess, but he never turned a hair. "Indeed?" +he says. "She is the--the housekeeper, isn't she?" + +"She was," says I, "but she leaves to-morrer morning." + +THAT hit him between wind and water. + +"No?" he sings out, setting up straight and staring at me. "Not +really?" + +"You bet," I says. "Now down in this part of the chart we've come +to think more of that young lady than a cat does of the only kitten +left out of the bag in the water bucket. Let me tell you about +her." + +So I went ahead, telling him how Mabel had come to us, why she +come, how well she was liked, how much she liked us, and a whole +lot more. I guess he knew the most of it, but he was too polite +not to act interested. + +"And now, all at once," says I, "she gives up being happy and well +and contented, and won't eat, and cries, and says she's going to +leave. There's a reason, as the advertisement folks say, and I'm +going to make a guess at it. I believe it calls itself Jones." + +His under jaw pushed out a little and his eyebrows drew together. +But all he said was, "Well?" + +"Yes," I says. "And now, Mr. Jones, I'm old, as I said afore, and +nosey maybe, but I like that girl. Perhaps I might come to like +you, too; you can't tell. Under them circumstances, and with the +understanding that it didn't go no farther, maybe you might give me +a glimpse of the lay of the land. Possibly I might have something +to say that would help. I'm fairly white underneath, if I be +sunburned. What do you think about it?" + +He didn't answer right off; seemed to be chewing it over. After a +spell he spoke. + +"Mr. Wingate," says he, "with the understanding that you mentioned, +I don't mind supposing a case. Suppose you was a chap in college. +Suppose you met a girl in the vicinity that was--well, was about +the best ever. Suppose you came to find that life wasn't worth a +continental without that girl. Then suppose you had a dad with +money, lots of money. Suppose the old fo--the gov'nor, I mean-- +without even seeing her or even knowing her name or a thing about +her, said no. Suppose you and the old gentleman had a devil of a +row, and broke off for keeps. Then suppose the girl wouldn't +listen to you under the circumstances. Talked rot about 'wasted +future' and 'throwing your life away' and so on. Suppose, when you +showed her that you didn't care a red for futures, she ran away +from you and wouldn't tell where she'd gone. Suppose--well, I +guess that's enough supposing. I don't know why I'm telling you +these things, anyway." + +He stopped and scowled at the floor, acting like he was sorry he +spoke. I pulled at my pipe a minute or so and then says I: + +"Hum!" I says, "I presume likely it's fair to suppose that this +break with the old gent is for good?" + +He didn't answer, but he didn't need to; the look on his face was +enough. + +"Yes," says I. "Well, it's likewise to be supposed that the idea-- +the eventual idea--is marriage, straight marriage, hey?" + +He jumped out of his chair. "Why, damn you!" he says. "I'll--" + +"All right. Set down and be nice. I was fairly sure of my +soundings, but it don't do no harm to heave the lead. I ask your +pardon. Well, what you going to support a wife on--her kind of a +wife? A summer waiter's job at twenty a month?" + +He set down, but he looked more troubled than ever. I was sorry +for him; I couldn't help liking the boy. + +"Suppose she keeps her word and goes away," says I. "What then?" + +"I'll go after her." + +"Suppose she still sticks to her principles and won't have you? +Where'll you go, then?" + +"To the hereafter," says he, naming the station at the end of the +route. + +"Oh, well, there's no hurry about that. Most of us are sure of a +free one-way pass to that port some time or other, 'cording to the +parson's tell. See here, Jones; let's look at this thing like a +couple of men, not children. You don't want to keep chasing that +girl from pillar to post, making her more miserable than she is +now. And you ain't in no position to marry her. The way to show a +young woman like her that you mean business and are going to be +wuth cooking meals for is to get the best place you can and start +in to earn a living and save money. Now, Mr. Brown's father-in-law +is a man by the name of Dillaway, Dillaway of the Consolidated Cash +Stores. He'll do things for me if I ask him to, and I happen to +know that he's just started a branch up to Providence and is there +now. Suppose I give you a note to him, asking him, as a favor to +me, to give you the best job he can. He'll do it, I know. After +that it's up to you. This is, of course, providing that you start +for Providence to-morrer morning. What d'you say?" + +He was thinking hard. "Suppose I don't make good?" he says. "I +never worked in my life. And suppose she--" + +"Oh, suppose your granny's pet hen hatched turkeys," I says, +getting impatient, "I'll risk your making good. I wa'n't a first +mate, shipping fo'mast hands ten years, for nothing. I can +generally tell beet greens from cabbage without waiting to smell +'em cooking. And as for her, it seems to me that a girl who thinks +enough of a feller to run away from him so's he won't spile his +future, won't like him no less for being willing to work and wait +for her. You stay here and think it over. I'm going out for a +spell." + +When I come back Jonesy was ready for me. + +"Mr. Wingate," says he, "it's a deal. I'm going to go you, though +I think you're plunging on a hundred-to-one shot. Some day I'll +tell you more about myself, maybe. But now I'm going to take your +advice and the position. I'll do my best, and I must say you're a +brick. Thanks awfully." + +"Good enough!" I says. "Now you go and tell her, and I'll write +the letter to Dillaway." + +So the next forenoon Peter T. Brown was joyful all up one side +because Mabel had said she'd stay, and mournful all down the other +because his pet college giant had quit almost afore he started. I +kept my mouth shut, that being the best play I know of, nine cases +out of ten. + +I went up to the depot with Jonesy to see him off. + +"Good-by, old man," he says, shaking hands. "You'll write me once +in a while, telling me how she is, and--and so on?" + +"Bet you!" says I. "I'll keep you posted up. And let's hear how +you tackle the Consolidated Cash business." + +July and the first two weeks in August moped along and everything +at the Old Home House kept about the same. Mabel was in mighty +good spirits, for her, and she got prettier every day. I had a +couple of letters from Jones, saying that he guessed he could get +bookkeeping through his skull in time without a surgical operation, +and old Dillaway was down over one Sunday and was preaching large +concerning the "find" my candidate was for the Providence branch. +So I guessed I hadn't made no mistake. + +I had considerable fun with Cap'n Jonadab over his not landing a +rich husband for the Seabury girl. Looked like the millionaire +crop was going to be a failure that summer. + +"Aw, belay!" says he, short as baker's pie crust. "The season +ain't over yet. You better take a bath in the salt mack'rel kag; +you're too fresh to keep this hot weather." + +Talking "husband" to him was like rubbing pain-killer on a scalded +pup, so I had something to keep me interested dull days. But one +morning he comes to me, excited as a mouse at a cat show, and says +he: + +"Ah, ha! what did I tell you? I've got one!" + +"I see you have," says I. "Want me to send for the doctor?" + +"Stop your foolishing," he says. "I mean I've got a millionaire. +He's coming to-night, too. One of the biggest big-bugs there is in +New York. Ah, ha! what did I tell you?" + +He was fairly boiling over with gloat, but from between the bubbles +I managed to find out that the new boarder was a big banker from +New York, name of Van Wedderburn, with a barrel of cash and a +hogshead of dyspepsy. He was a Wall Street "bear," and a steady +diet of lamb with mint sass had fetched him to where the doctors +said 'twas lay off for two months or be laid out for keeps. + +"And I've fixed it that he's to stop at your house, Barzilla," +crows Jonadab. "And when he sees Mabel--well, you know what she's +done to the other men folks," he says. + +"Humph!" says I, "maybe he's got dyspepsy of the heart along with +the other kind. She might disagree with him. What makes you so +cock sartin?" + +"'Cause he's a widower," he says. "Them's the softest kind." + +"Well, you ought to know," I told him. "You're one yourself. But, +from what I've heard, soft things are scarce in Wall Street. Bet +you seventy-five cents to a quarter it don't work." + +He wouldn't take me, having scruples against betting--except when +he had the answer in his pocket. But he went away cackling joyful, +and that night Van Wedderburn arrived. + +Van was a substantial-looking old relic, built on the lines of the +Boston State House, broad in the beam and with a shiny dome on top. +But he could qualify for the nervous dyspepsy class all right, +judging by his language to the depot-wagon driver. When he got +through making remarks because one of his trunks had been forgot, +that driver's quotation, according to Peter T., had "dropped to +thirty cents, with a second assessment called." I jedged the meals +at our table would be as agreeable as a dog-fight. + +However, 'twas up to me, and I towed him in and made him acquainted +with Mabel. She wa'n't enthusiastic--having heard some of the +driver sermon, I cal'late--until I mentioned his name. Then she +gave a little gasp like. When Van had gone up to his rooms, +puffing like a donkey-engyne and growling 'cause there wa'n't no +elevators, she took me by the arm and says she: + +"WHAT did you say his name was, Mr. Wingate?" + +"Van Wedderburn," says I. "The New York millionaire one." + +"Not of Van Wedderburn & Hamilton, the bankers?" she asks, eager. + +"That's him," says I. "Why? Do you know him? Did his ma used to +do washing at your house?" + +She laughed, but her face was all lit up and her eyes fairly shone. +I could have--but there! never mind. + +"Oh, no," she says, "I don't know him, but I know of him--everybody +does." + +Well, everybody did, that's a fact, and the way Marm Bounderby and +Maizie was togged out at the supper-table was a sin and a shame. +And the way they poured gush over that bald-headed broker was +enough to make him slip out of his chair. Talk about "fishers of +men"! them Bounderbys was a whole seiner's crew in themselves. + +But what surprised me was Mabel Seabury. She was dressed up, too; +not in the Bounderbys' style--collar-bones and diamonds--but in +plain white with lace fuzz. If she wa'n't peaches and cream, then +all you need is lettuce to make me a lobster salad. + +And she was as nice to Van as if he was old Deuteronomy out of the +Bible. He set down to that meal with a face on him like a pair of +nutcrackers, and afore 'twas over he was laughing and eating apple +pie and telling funny yarns about robbing his "friends" in the +Street. I judged he'd be sorry for it afore morning, but I didn't +care for that. I was kind of worried myself; didn't understand it. + +And I understood it less and less as the days went by. If she'd +been Maizie Bounderby, with two lines in each hand and one in her +teeth, she couldn't have done more to hook that old stock-broker. +She cooked little special dishes for his dyspepsy to play with, and +set with him on the piazza evenings, and laughed at his jokes, and +the land knows what. Inside of a fortni't he was a gone goose, +which wa'n't surprising--every other man being in the same fix--but +'TWAS surprising to see her helping the goneness along. All hands +was watching the game, of course, and it pretty nigh started a +mutiny at the Old Home. The Bounderbys packed up and lit out in +ten days, and none of the other women would speak to Mabel. They +didn't blame poor Mr. Van, you understand. 'Twas all her--"low, +designing thing!" + +And Jonadab! he wa'n't fit to live with. The third forenoon after +Van Wedderburn got there he come around and took the quarter bet. +And the way he crowed over me made my hands itch for a rope's end. +Finally I owned up to myself that I'd made a mistake; the girl was +a whitewashed tombstone and the whitewash was rubbing thin. That +night I dropped a line to poor Jonesy at Providence, telling him +that, if he could get a day off, maybe he'd better come down to +Wellmouth, and see to his fences; somebody was feeding cows in his +pasture. + +The next day was Labor Day, and what was left of the boarders was +going for a final picnic over to Baker's Grove at Ostable. We +went, three catboats full of us, and Van and Mabel Seabury was in +the same boat. We made the grove all right, and me and Jonadab had +our hands full, baking clams and chasing spiders out of the milk, +and doing all the chores that makes a picnic so joyfully miserable. +When the dinner dishes was washed I went off by myself to a quiet +bunch of bayberry bushes half a mile from the grove and laid down +to rest, being beat out. + +I guess I fell asleep, and what woke me was somebody speaking close +by. I was going to get up and clear out, not being in the habit of +listening to other folks' affairs, but the very first words I heard +showed me that 'twas best, for the feelings of all concerned, to +lay still and keep on with my nap. + +"Oh, no!" says Mabel Seabury, dreadful nervous and hurried-like; +"oh, no! Mr. Van Wedderburn, please don't say any more. I can't +listen to you, I'm so sorry." + +"Do you mean that--really mean it?" asks Van, his voice rather +shaky and seemingly a good deal upset. "My dear young lady, I +realize that I'm twice your age and more, and I suppose that I was +an old fool to hope; but I've had trouble lately, and I've been +very lonely, and you have been so kind that I thought--I did hope-- +I-- Can't you?" + +"No," says she, more nervous than ever, and shaky, too, but +decided. "No! Oh, NO! It's all my fault. I wanted you to like +me; I wanted you to like me very much. But not this way. I'm-- +I'm--so sorry. Please forgive me." + +She walked on then, fast, and toward the grove, and he followed, +slashing at the weeds with his cane, and acting a good deal as if +he'd like to pick up his playthings and go home. When they was out +of sight I set up and winked, large and comprehensive, at the +scenery. It looked to me like I was going to collect Jonadab's +quarter. + +That night as I passed the lilac bushes by the gate, somebody steps +out and grabs my arm. I jumped, looked up, and there, glaring down +at me out of the clouds, was friend Jones from Providence, R. I. + +"Wingate," he whispers, fierce, "who is the man? And where is he?" + +"Easy," I begs. "Easy on that arm. I might want to use it again. +What man?" + +"That man you wrote me about. I've come down here to interview +him. Confound him! Who is he?" + +"Oh, it's all right now," says I. "There was an old rooster from +New York who was acting too skittish to suit me, but I guess it's +all off. His being a millionaire and a stock-jobber was what scart +me fust along. He's a hundred years old or so; name of Van +Wedderburn." + +"WHAT?" he says, pinching my arm till I could all but feel his +thumb and finger meet. "What? Stop joking. I'm not funny to- +night." + +"It's no joke," says I, trying to put my arm together again. "Van +Wedderburn is his name. 'Course you've heard of him. Why! there +he is now." + +Sure enough, there was Van, standing like a statue of misery on the +front porch of the main hotel, the light from the winder shining +full on him. Jonesy stared and stared. + +"Is that the man?" he says, choking up. "Was HE sweet on Mabel?" + +"Sweeter'n a molasses stopper," says I. "But he's going away in a +day or so. You don't need to worry." + +He commenced to laugh, and I thought he'd never stop. + +"What's the joke?" I asks, after a year or so of this foolishness. +"Let me in, won't you? Thought you wa'n't funny to-night." + +He stopped long enough to ask one more question. "Tell me, for the +Lord's sake!" says he. "Did she know who he was?" + +"Sartin," says I. "So did every other woman round the place. +You'd think so if--" + +He walked off then, laughing himself into a fit. "Good night, old +man," he says, between spasms. "See you later. No, I don't think +I shall worry much." + +If he hadn't been so big I cal'lated I'd have risked a kick. A man +hates to be made a fool of and not know why. + +A whole lot of the boarders had gone on the evening train, and at +our house Van Wedderburn was the only one left. He and Mabel and +me was the full crew at the breakfast-table the follering morning. +The fruit season was a quiet one. I done all the talking there +was; every time the broker and the housekeeper looked at each other +they turned red. + +Finally 'twas "chopped-hay" time, and in comes the waiter with the +tray. And again we had a surprise, just like the one back in July. +Percy wa'n't on hand, and Jonesy was. + +But the other surprise wa'n't nothing to this one. The Seabury +girl was mightily set back, but old Van was paralyzed. His eyes +and mouth opened and kept on opening. + +"Cereal, sir?" asks Jones, polite as ever. + +"Why! why, you--you rascal!" hollers Van Wedderburn. "What are you +doing here?" + +"I have a few days' vacation from my position at Providence, sir," +answers Jones. "I'm a waiter at present." + +"Why, ROBERT!" exclaims Mabel Seabury. + +Van swung around like he was on a pivot. "Do you know HIM?" he +pants, wild as a coot, and pointing. + +'Twas the waiter himself that answered. + +"She knows me, father," he says. "In fact she is the young lady I +told you about last spring; the one I intend to marry." + +Did you ever see the tide go out over the flats? Well, that's the +way the red slid down off old Van's bald head and across his +cheeks. But it came back again like an earthquake wave. He turned +to Mabel once more, and if ever there was a pleading "Don't tell" +in a man's eyes, 'twas in his. + +"Cereal, sir?" asks Robert Van Wedderburn, alias "Jonesy." + +Well, I guess that's about all. Van Senior took it enough sight +more graceful than you'd expect, under the circumstances. He went +straight up to his room and never showed up till suppertime. Then +he marches to where Mabel and his son was, on the porch, and says +he: + +"Bob," he says, "if you don't marry this young lady within a month +I'll disown you, for good this time. You've got more sense than I +thought. Blessed if I see who you inherit it from!" says he, kind +of to himself. + +Jonadab ain't paid me the quarter yet. He says the bet was that +she'd land a millionaire, and a Van Wedderburn, afore the season +ended, and she did; so he figgers that he won the bet. Him and me +got wedding cards a week ago, so I suppose "Jonesy" and Mabel are +on their honeymoon now. I wonder if she's ever told her husband +about what I heard in the bayberry bushes. Being the gamest sport, +for a woman, that ever I see, I'll gamble she ain't said a word +about it. + + +THE END + + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, CAPE COD STORIES *** + +This file should be named cacod10.txt or cacod10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, cacod11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, cacod10a.txt + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we usually do not +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +We are now trying to release all our eBooks one year in advance +of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing. +Please be encouraged to tell us about any error or corrections, +even years after the official publication date. + +Please note neither this listing nor its contents are final til +midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement. +The official release date of all Project Gutenberg eBooks is at +Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A +preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment +and editing by those who wish to do so. + +Most people start at our Web sites at: +http://gutenberg.net or +http://promo.net/pg + +These Web sites include award-winning information about Project +Gutenberg, including how to donate, how to help produce our new +eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter (free!). + + +Those of you who want to download any eBook before announcement +can get to them as follows, and just download by date. This is +also a good way to get them instantly upon announcement, as the +indexes our cataloguers produce obviously take a while after an +announcement goes out in the Project Gutenberg Newsletter. + +http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext04 or +ftp://ftp.ibiblio.org/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext04 + +Or /etext03, 02, 01, 00, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90 + +Just search by the first five letters of the filename you want, +as it appears in our Newsletters. + + +Information about Project Gutenberg (one page) + +We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The +time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours +to get any eBook selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright +searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc. Our +projected audience is one hundred million readers. If the value +per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2 +million dollars per hour in 2002 as we release over 100 new text +files per month: 1240 more eBooks in 2001 for a total of 4000+ +We are already on our way to trying for 2000 more eBooks in 2002 +If they reach just 1-2% of the world's population then the total +will reach over half a trillion eBooks given away by year's end. + +The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away 1 Trillion eBooks! +This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers, +which is only about 4% of the present number of computer users. + +Here is the briefest record of our progress (* means estimated): + +eBooks Year Month + + 1 1971 July + 10 1991 January + 100 1994 January + 1000 1997 August + 1500 1998 October + 2000 1999 December + 2500 2000 December + 3000 2001 November + 4000 2001 October/November + 6000 2002 December* + 9000 2003 November* +10000 2004 January* + + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been created +to secure a future for Project Gutenberg into the next millennium. + +We need your donations more than ever! + +As of February, 2002, contributions are being solicited from people +and organizations in: Alabama, Alaska, Arkansas, Connecticut, +Delaware, District of Columbia, Florida, Georgia, Hawaii, Illinois, +Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Massachusetts, +Michigan, Mississippi, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, New +Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, Ohio, +Oklahoma, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, South Carolina, South +Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, West +Virginia, Wisconsin, and Wyoming. + +We have filed in all 50 states now, but these are the only ones +that have responded. + +As the requirements for other states are met, additions to this list +will be made and fund raising will begin in the additional states. +Please feel free to ask to check the status of your state. + +In answer to various questions we have received on this: + +We are constantly working on finishing the paperwork to legally +request donations in all 50 states. If your state is not listed and +you would like to know if we have added it since the list you have, +just ask. + +While we cannot solicit donations from people in states where we are +not yet registered, we know of no prohibition against accepting +donations from donors in these states who approach us with an offer to +donate. + +International donations are accepted, but we don't know ANYTHING about +how to make them tax-deductible, or even if they CAN be made +deductible, and don't have the staff to handle it even if there are +ways. + +Donations by check or money order may be sent to: + +Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +PMB 113 +1739 University Ave. +Oxford, MS 38655-4109 + +Contact us if you want to arrange for a wire transfer or payment +method other than by check or money order. + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been approved by +the US Internal Revenue Service as a 501(c)(3) organization with EIN +[Employee Identification Number] 64-622154. Donations are +tax-deductible to the maximum extent permitted by law. As fund-raising +requirements for other states are met, additions to this list will be +made and fund-raising will begin in the additional states. + +We need your donations more than ever! + +You can get up to date donation information online at: + +http://www.gutenberg.net/donation.html + + +*** + +If you can't reach Project Gutenberg, +you can always email directly to: + +Michael S. Hart <hart@pobox.com> + +Prof. Hart will answer or forward your message. + +We would prefer to send you information by email. + + +**The Legal Small Print** + + +(Three Pages) + +***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS**START*** +Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers. +They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with +your copy of this eBook, even if you got it for free from +someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our +fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement +disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how +you may distribute copies of this eBook if you want to. + +*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS EBOOK +By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +eBook, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept +this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive +a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this eBook by +sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person +you got it from. If you received this eBook on a physical +medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request. + +ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM EBOOKS +This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBooks, +is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor Michael S. Hart +through the Project Gutenberg Association (the "Project"). +Among other things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright +on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and +distribute it in the United States without permission and +without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth +below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this eBook +under the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark. + +Please do not use the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark to market +any commercial products without permission. + +To create these eBooks, the Project expends considerable +efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain +works. Despite these efforts, the Project's eBooks and any +medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other +things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged +disk or other eBook medium, a computer virus, or computer +codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment. + +LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES +But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below, +[1] Michael Hart and the Foundation (and any other party you may +receive this eBook from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook) disclaims +all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including +legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR +UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT, +INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE +OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE +POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES. + +If you discover a Defect in this eBook within 90 days of +receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) +you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that +time to the person you received it from. If you received it +on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and +such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement +copy. If you received it electronically, such person may +choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to +receive it electronically. + +THIS EBOOK IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS +TO THE EBOOK OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A +PARTICULAR PURPOSE. + +Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or +the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the +above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you +may have other legal rights. + +INDEMNITY +You will indemnify and hold Michael Hart, the Foundation, +and its trustees and agents, and any volunteers associated +with the production and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm +texts harmless, from all liability, cost and expense, including +legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the +following that you do or cause: [1] distribution of this eBook, +[2] alteration, modification, or addition to the eBook, +or [3] any Defect. + +DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm" +You may distribute copies of this eBook electronically, or by +disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this +"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg, +or: + +[1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this + requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the + eBook or this "small print!" statement. You may however, + if you wish, distribute this eBook in machine readable + binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form, + including any form resulting from conversion by word + processing or hypertext software, but only so long as + *EITHER*: + + [*] The eBook, when displayed, is clearly readable, and + does *not* contain characters other than those + intended by the author of the work, although tilde + (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may + be used to convey punctuation intended by the + author, and additional characters may be used to + indicate hypertext links; OR + + [*] The eBook may be readily converted by the reader at + no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent + form by the program that displays the eBook (as is + the case, for instance, with most word processors); + OR + + [*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at + no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the + eBook in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC + or other equivalent proprietary form). + +[2] Honor the eBook refund and replacement provisions of this + "Small Print!" statement. + +[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Foundation of 20% of the + gross profits you derive calculated using the method you + already use to calculate your applicable taxes. If you + don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are + payable to "Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation" + the 60 days following each date you prepare (or were + legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent + periodic) tax return. Please contact us beforehand to + let us know your plans and to work out the details. + +WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? +Project Gutenberg is dedicated to increasing the number of +public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed +in machine readable form. + +The Project gratefully accepts contributions of money, time, +public domain materials, or royalty free copyright licenses. +Money should be paid to the: +"Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +If you are interested in contributing scanning equipment or +software or other items, please contact Michael Hart at: +hart@pobox.com + +[Portions of this eBook's header and trailer may be reprinted only +when distributed free of all fees. Copyright (C) 2001, 2002 by +Michael S. Hart. Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be +used in any sales of Project Gutenberg eBooks or other materials be +they hardware or software or any other related product without +express permission.] + +*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS*Ver.02/11/02*END* + |