A CATASTROPHE IN FURNITURE
"Miss Cahline comin' this yeh time a' yeah so's 't'll seem mo' soft an'
homelike. Ah gaiss she go'n' a' sprighten raght up when she see th'
summeh time all pleasant."
Thus Clem said to me a few weeks later, and I praised his
thoughtfulness. But I nursed misgivings both for Miss Caroline and for
Little Arcady. How would they take each other? I conceived Miss Caroline
to be a formidable person whom Little Miss resembled, Clem said, "as
aigs look lahk aigs." No further detail could I elicit from him save
that his Mistress was "not fleshily inclahned," and that Little Miss was
"sweetah'n honey on a rag!"
They would find our summer acceptable, even after a Southern summer
heavy-sweet with magnolia and jasmine, honeysuckle and mimosa; with
spirea and bridal-wreath and white-blossomed sloe trees. And the house
as put to rights by Clem would be found at least endurable. It had not
the solid grace nor the columned front of the houses I had somewhat
hurriedly admired in the Southland some years before, but its lower
rooms were wide, its windows abundant, and outwardly it had escaped the
blight of the scroll saw.
But the civilization of Little Arcady would be alien to the newcomers,
and I was apprehensive that it would also be difficult.
Further, I suspected that J.R.C. Tuckerman, with all his genius for hard
work, lacked the administrative gifts of a true financier. He said a
hundred thousand pullets when he should have said twenty-five, and he
seemed to consider his banked hoard of gold money to be inexhaustible
when it was in fact merely a sum slightly greater than he was wont to
juggle with in his darkened mind.
I was not surprised, therefore, when I found him rather dejectedly sunk
in figures one afternoon about a week after Miss Caroline's
"home-fixin's" had begun to arrive.
These were all about him at the front door, in the hall, and extending
far into the rooms, a truly depressing chaos of packing boxes, swathed
tables, chairs, bureaus, and barrels of china. Nor was this all; for
even as I loitered up to the door the dray of Sam Murdock halted in
front with another huge load.
Clem raised his head from a sheet of sprawled figures and regarded this
fresh trouble with something like consternation. In one hand he
fluttered a packet of receipted freight bills, and he spoke as one in an
evil dream.
"Yes, seh, Mahstah Majah, it suttinly do seem lahk them railroad
genamen would git monst'ous rich a-runnin' them freight trains about th'
kentry th' way lahk they do. Ah allus think them ole freight cyahs look
maghty cheap an' common a-rattlin' around, but Ah teks mah ole hat off
to um yehafteh. Yes, seh, Ah lays Ah will! Them engineahs an' fiahmen
an' them Cunnels with gole on they hats, Ah gaiss they go'n' a' have all
th' money in th' world maghty shawtly. They looks highly awdinahy an'
unpetentious, but they suttinly p'duces th' revenue. Ah sho'ly go'n' a'
repoht mahse'f to um ve'y honably when they pass me by yehafteh. Yo'
don't gaiss they made a errah, Mahstah Majah?"
He searched my face with a sudden hope:--
"Yo' don't reckon they git a idy them funichas an' home-fixin's ain't
been paid foh in th' fust place?"
I took the packet from his hands and glanced over it.
"No, these seem to be all right, Clem--only freight is charged for. But
you must remember Virginia is a long way off."
"Yes, seh--it ain't neveh raghtly come upon me befoh."
"And freights are high, of course?"
"Yes, seh, th' freight p'fession does look lahk it ort a' be maghty
gainful. Ah gaiss them engineahs go'n' a' do raght well in it, with
evabody movin' 'round considable."
"Well, how many more loads do you expect?"
"Well, seh, Ah don't raghtly know. Ah tell that drivah yestaday Ah
already got a gret abundance to mek evabody comf'table, an' a little bit
oveh, but he jes' sais, 'Oh, tha's all raght,' an' so fothe, an' he
still is _a-bringin_' it. Lohks ve'y strongly lahk he ain't go'n' a'
stop at _mah_ implications. Mahstah Majah, maght happen lahk he'd ack
mo' reasonin' ef yo' was t' have a good long talk with him."
"Oh, he hasn't anything to do with it. He only brings what your Miss
Caroline has shipped. She shouldn't have sent so much, that's all."
He took the troubling bills again.
"Yo' _sounds_ raght, Mahstah Majah--you suttinly do sound _raght_! Ah
gaiss Ah got a' raise ten hund'ed thousan' pulletts an mo'."
For three more days the juggernaut of Sam Murdock's dray hauled heavy
furniture over the prostrate spirit of Clem. Faster than he could unpack
the stuff was it unpiled at his door. And it was poor stuff, moreover,
in the opinion of Little Arcady. Clem's history was known, of course,
and during these busy days the town made it a point to pass his door in
friendly curiosity about the belongings of his mistress. When these
could not be satisfactorily appraised from the yard, they sauntered up
to the porch and surveyed Clem in the front room at his work of
unpacking and cleaning. Often, indeed, some kindly disposed observer
with time to spare would lend a hand in freeing some heavy bit of
mahogany from its crate or wrappings.
The public opinion, thus advantageously formed, was for once unanimous.
The house overflowed with worthless and unbeautiful junk. To Little
Arcady this was a grievous disappointment. It had expected elegance, for
Clem had been wont to enlarge upon the splendors of his former home.
When it was finally known that the long-vaunted furnishings were coming,
the town had prepared to be dazzled by sets of black walnut, ornate with
gilt lines, by patent rockers done in plush, by fashionable sofas, gay
with upholstery of flowered ingrain, by bedroom sets of ash, stencilled
adroitly with pink-and-blue flowers, or set with veneered panels of
burl; by writing-desks of maple and music-stands of cherry with many
spindles and frettings, by sideboards of finest new oak with brass
handles and mirrors in the backs.
The town had anticipated, in short, up to its own high and difficult
standards. And along had come a ruck of stuff that was dark and dingy
and old-fashioned; awkward articles with a vast dull expanse of
mahogany, ending in clumsy claw feet; spindle-legged tables inlaid with
white wood; old-fashioned mirrors in scarred gilt frames;
awkward-looking highboys and the plainest of sofas and lounges. The
chief sideboard boasted not the tiniest bit of brass; even the handles
were of cheap glass, and Clem had set candle-sticks upon it that were
nothing but pewter.
Where Little Arcady had looked for the best Brussels carpets, there came
only dull-colored rugs of a most aged and depressing lack of gayety. As
for silver, we knew the worst when Aunt Delia McCormick declared, "They
haven't even a swinging ice-pitcher--nothing but thin battered old stuff
that was made in the year one!"
Aunt Delia had quite the newest and most fashionable furniture in town;
her parlor was a feast of color for any eye, and her fine hardwood
sideboard alone had cost twenty-two dollars, so she spoke as one having
authority.
By the time that Clem's ancient treasures were all unpacked, Little
Arcady felt a genuine if patronizing sympathy for his mistress. If
_that_ were the boasted elegance of the ante-bellum South, then
Tradition had reported falsely. No plush rockers of the newest patent;
no chenille curtains; no art chromos; no hat-racks, not even an
imitation bronze mantle clock guarded by its mailed warrior. Such clocks
as there were left only honest distress in the mind of the
beholder,--tall, outlandish old things in wooden cases.
It was believed that Clem had wasted money in paying freight on this
stuff. Certainly no one in Little Arcady would have paid those bills to
possess the furniture. As to the folly of those who had originally
purchased it, the town was likewise a unit.
If Clem was made aware of this public sentiment, he still did not waver
in his loyalty to the old pieces. Day after day he unpacked and dusted
and polished them with loving devotion. They spoke to him of other days,
and when he was quite sure that the last freight bill had been paid, he
seemed really to enjoy them. The unexpected drain had reduced his
savings to a pittance, but were not the pullets which he could raise
absolutely without number?
It was true that Miss Caroline would have to come alone now, leaving
Little Miss still to teach in the school at Baltimore until a day of
renewed surplus. This much Clem confided to me in sorrow. I sympathized
with him, truly, but I felt it was a fortunate circumstance. I thought
that one of the ladies at a time would be as much as Little Arcady could
assimilate.
Slowly the house grew into a home awaiting its mistress, a home whose
furnished rooms overflowed into others not furnished but merely crowded.
I foresaw, not without a certain wicked cheerfulness, that, even after
the coming of Miss Caroline, Clem would be forced to pander to my
breakfast appetites for the slight betterment it made in his fortunes,
even must this be done surreptitiously. And at least one dinner was
secured to me beyond the coming of this mistress; for Clem had conveyed
to me, with appropriate ceremony, an invitation, which I promptly
accepted, to dine with Mrs. Caroline Lansdale at six-thirty on the
evening of her arrival, she having gleaned from his letters, it
appeared, that I had been a rather friendly adviser of her servant.
In the days that followed I saw that Clem was regarding me with an
embarrassed, troubled look. Something of weight lay upon his mind. Nor
was it easy, to make him speak, but I achieved this at last.
"Well, seh, Mahstah Majah, yo'-all see, Ah ain't eveh told Miss Cahline
that yo's a Majah in th' Nawthun ahmy."
"No?" I said.
"No, seh; Ah ain't even said yo's been a common soljah."
"Well?"
"'Cause Miss Cahline's tehible heahtfelt 'bout some mattehs. Th'
Lansdales sho'ly kin ca'y a grudge powful long. An' so--seh--Ah ain't
neveh tole on yo'."
"But she'll find it out."
"Yes, seh, an' she maght fuhgit it, but--Ah crave yo' pahdon,
seh--theh's yo' ahm what's gone."
"It's too late to help that, Clem."
"Well, seh--now Ah was steddyin'--if yo' kin'ly grant yo' grace of
pahdon, seh--lahkly 'twould compliment Miss Cahline ef yo' was to git
yo'se'f fitted to one a' them unnatchel limbs, seh. Yo' sho'ly go'n' a'
pesteh huh rec'lections with that theh saggin' sleeve, Mahstah Majah."
But this kindly meant proposal I felt compelled to reject.
"No, Clem, you'll have to fix it up with Miss Caroline the best you
can."
"Ve'y well, seh, thank yo', seh--Ah do mah ve'y best fo' yo'."
But I saw that he had little hope of ever winning for me the favor of
his captious owner.