for raisin' the anvil, 'n' I was hardly onto _my_ legs before Mr. Dill's
horse quit his hind ones. Mr. Weskin was up 'n' doin' as usual 'n'
advised bringin' a joint suit with the blacksmith for the anvil 'n' me
for the crick, but even if I was helpless the blacksmith wa' n't goin'
to be sued if he could do anything else, 'n' he brung Mr. Dill up to see
if we could n't arbitrate ourselves. Mr. Dill 's always been very nice
to me, but that wheat-fly made him so mad to be paid something by
somebody that it took the blacksmith 'n' me and four glasses of root
beer to bring him to reason. In the end he said if the blacksmith would
shoe everything he owned till it died 'n' if I would put up Lucy's
currants till I died that he 'd call them two legs straight. We wrote a
paper 'n' signed it 'n' I went to bed, 'n' seemed like my trials were
certainly more than any mortal could stand under, particularly when you
consider that a good deal of the time I had n't been able to sit down.
"I don't see why any one should be surprised over me lookin' worried. It
says in the Bible that if you 'n' Mohamet ain't on the mountain you 're
bound to have the mountain 'n' Mohamet both on you, 'n' I must say I
believe it's true. I 've had to take the ten dollars as I never touch,
'n' the ten as I never will touch, 'n' the ten as I never will touch so
help me Heaven--'n' spend 'em all. 'N' I don't know what I am goin' to
do now, I 'm sure. Bein' yourself, Mrs. Lathrop, you can't in reason be
expected to understand what it is to me to have no one but you to turn
to. You 've got your good points, but you ain't no hand to have ideas
nor yet to advise. I 've been slow in comin' to that view of you, but I
've got to it at last, 'n' got over it, 'n' I 'm walkin' alone now on
the further side."
Mrs. Lathrop looked apologetic, but remained tritely silent. Susan
backed away from the fence.
"It 's gettin' damp," she said; "you 've got rheumatism anyway, so you
don't care if you take cold, but I ain't very anxious to, 'n' so I think
we 'd ought to go in."
Mrs. Lathrop nodded, and turned to go.
"I hope I have n't made you feel uneasy, Mrs. Lathrop," Susan said, as
she also turned; "you know me well enough to know as if I come to
starvation it would never be nothin' but a joy to me to see you starve
with me."
Mrs. Lathrop nodded.
Susan nodded.
And thus they parted for the night.
PART SECOND
GRAN'MA MULLINS'S WOE
It was some days later--a summer afternoon. The setting sun was
brightening the western sky, and Susan, with her bonnet on and her
sun-shade leaning beside her, sat on Mrs. Lathrop's porch and discoursed
in a fashion that partook alternately of the lively and of the dejected.
Mrs. Lathrop rocked calmly and listened yet more so.
"Things is goin' worse 'n' worse," said the caller; "I 've had to bring
myself down to doin' my own weedin', so as to save that ten cents a week
I give Augustus, 'n' Lord knows I 'd gladly put up anything for anybody,
but everybody in this town puts up themselves. I don't know how I will
get along if suthin' don't turn up, 'n' I can't see what can turn up
with every one head over ears deep in the weddin's 'n' young Doctor
Brown settin' the whole town mad over the crick. That 's a very strange
thing about the crick, Mrs. Lathrop, 'n' it seems to be pretty generally
admitted now that inside or out the crick 's good for most anything in
anybody, but this new idea as it 's a sure cure for asthma is just doin'
folks up alive. Young Doctor Brown says he's been investigatin' under
his own microscope, 'n' he says there ain't a doubt but the crick
polliwogs can eat up the asthma polliwogs as fast as you can shake 'em
together in a bottle. He 's goin' to Meadville 'n' shake 'em up for old
Doctor Carter, 'n' then he 's goin' to send to the city for a pint of
typhoid fever 'n' a half-pint of diphtheria 'n' let 'em loose on that.
Mr. Kimball asked him if he was positive which side was doin' the
swallowin' 'n' if he had the crick ones wear a band on their left arms
when they went into battle, but young Doctor Brown explained as there
could n't be no mistake, for asthma has got four claws in its tail and
the crick has horns all over. Mrs. Macy says, under them circumstances
she shall make her tea with boiled rain-water hereafter, 'n' she says
she ain't sure as she 's got enough faith left in the crick to even
scrub with it."
"If I--" said Mrs. Lathrop.
"Gran'ma Mullins is a good deal upset," said Susan; "she don't like the
notion of young Doctor Brown's bringin' so much typhoid and diphtheria
into town just as Hiram 's goin' to get married a _tall_. She says she
's got enough to worry over about Hiram without that. She says she 's
feelin' worse over him every day. She can't talk about it without
chokin'. She says she 's got his rattle and his first sock pinned up by
the clock, so every time she looks up at the time she can see 'em 'n'
cry again. She says it ain't in reason as Lucy 'll ever understand
Hiram. She says Hiram 's a very singular disposition, but if you always
ask him to do what you don't want done 'n' to never do what 's got to be
done right off he 's one of the handiest men around the house as she
ever see. She says he eats a lot of sugar 'n' you must n't notice it,
'cause he always says as he never does; and he most never goes to
church, but you must n't tell him so, 'cause he says he goes regular,
'n' she says as he likes to keep molasses candy in his pockets 'n' under
his pillow, 'n' heaven knows, likin' molasses candy ain't no crime, and
yet she 's almost sure Lucy 's goin' to make his life miserable over it.
She says her cup was full enough without no pint of diphtheria added,
'n' I d'n know as I ever see any one more downhearted. Mrs. Macy 'n' me
stayed and shook our heads with her for a while 'n' then we went on t
Mrs. Allen's to look at Polly's weddin' things. Every one in town is
goin' to look at Polly's weddin' things, 'n' you 'd really suppose as
the deacon was any one in the world but the deacon to see how they 've
fixed Polly up to marry him. Four of everythin' 'n' six o' some. Only
not a apron in the whole,--the deacon would n't have it. He said right
out as he wa'n't marryin' Polly to work her to skin 'n' bone, and he
knows how he wants his house kept 'n' his cookin' done, so he 'll just
keep on keepin' 'n' cookin' as usual. He 's fixed up a good deal; the
canary bird 's got a brass hook after all these years o' wooden-peggin',
'n' he 's bought one o' them new style doormats made out o' wire with
'Welcome P. W.' let into it in green marbles. 'P. W.' stands for 'Polly
White,' 'n' Mr. Kimball told Mr. Macy they had a awful time over
sticking the marbles in 'n' a awful time gettin' the letters to suit.
The deacon was for 'P. W.' all along 'n' Polly was for the deacon, but
Mrs. Allen was for Polly's name, because Polly ain't married yet, 'n'
they got P. A. stuck in afore any one knowed how it'd look, 'n' then
they tried to patch it up with a 'W' added 'n' that seemed like it was a
new way to say to be sure 'n' wipe your feet. Mr. Kimball told Mrs. Macy
he nigh to died laughin', 'n' he did n't mind how he broke his nails
pickin' marbles in 'n' out when he could have so much fun. So they
settled for 'P. W.,' 'n' Mrs. Macy 's more than a little bitter over it
all, for she says the deacon 'll soon come to his senses 'n' then it'll
be too late to get that 'P. W.' off of his door-mat again. But the
deacon ain't carin'. He's friskin' around like a colt, 'n' they say he
's got two new suits of clothes 'n' a new hat for the goin' away. He was
always that way though--I recolleck Mr. Kimball's sayin' when Mrs. White
died that the deacon had been dyein' his hair 'n' bein' patient for over
fifteen years.
"Well--about them weddin' things of Polly's!--Mrs. Allen took me
upstairs 'n' I saw 'em all. The weddin' veil is looped along the
lamberquin with a glove pinned to each curtain, the dress hangs on a
frame between against the window shade, 'n' the under things is folded
on a table at one side with the stockin's tied together in a true
lovers'-knot. I must say they 've done it all real tasty, with the
deacon's picture in the middle leanin' up against her shoes. It 's a
open question about the shoes still, 'cause if Polly wears any shoes a
_tall_ it only makes her that much more higher than the deacon, but Mrs.
Allen says, seein' as it 's as it is, she hopes Polly 'll only think o'
how the higher her heels is the more room it 'll give her train to
spread. It 's a very handsome train 'n' they 've measured so 's it 'll
make the next set o' parlor curtains at the Whites'.
"I declare, Mrs. Lathrop, I can't tell you how all these weddin's 'n'
talkin's do blue me up! To see every one spendin' money 'n' me without
any even to save. Mr. Dill asked me yesterday if I did n't want to take
Gran'ma Mullins to board for the honeymoon, an' I suppose I could maybe
do it, but oh my! I can't say as I take to that idea much. I 'm fond o'
Gran'ma Mullins, but these days Hiram is nothin' but a bottomless pit
when she gets at him, 'n' a honeymoon is a long time to hear one person
talk about one person. I can 't say as I ever had anythin' again Hiram
except that time 't he did n't catch Jathrop to lynch him, but all the
same I ain't over fond o' any one as goes around with their mouth
half-open the year through. Mr. Kimball said once as Hiram Mullins was
the best design for a penny bank as he ever saw, 'n' Polly Allen says
she 's more 'n sorry for Lucy, 'cause no matter how hard Lucy was to
try, Polly says it stands to reason as she could n't get more 'n half a
kiss at once. Mrs. Allen giggled, 'n' we all did, too, 'cause the deacon
carries his mouth so tight shut that it's a question if Polly ever gets
a kiss a _tall_.
"Mrs. Brown says Doctor Brown is gettin' surer 'n' surer about the
crick. He 's been paintin' the cat with asthma 'n' then washin' him in
crick water, 'n' Mrs. Brown says he wa'n't dead up to the time he run
away anyhow."
"That big--" queried Mrs. Lathrop.
"Yes, with the yellow eyes. He 's been gone a week, but they don't care.
Mrs. Brown says that cat was so everlastin'ly around that he made her
feel like she was married again, 'n' she was glad to have him light out.
She says he was so like a man it was awful,--wantin' to sit by the fire
'n' think till you was dyin' to empty the tea-kettle over his head, 'n'
forever placidly yawnin' when you was turned a hundred ends at once.
Mrs. Brown says Amelia 's goin' to give a wash-cloth shower for Polly
and Lucy day after to-morrow. She says young Doctor Brown says if he
comes out on top about that crick-cure for asthma Amelia can do anythin'
she pleases. He says this town 'll be a real cure then, 'n' we 'll see
no end of money flow into us,--she says he says we can all take boarders
at fancy prices 'n' serve 'em to the crick at a penny a glass. I don't
know but what I might take a few quiet boarders myself that way. They 'd
be quiet because they could n't be lively, 'n' the asthma 'd choke 'em
to where they could n't eat much."
"I--" said Mrs. Lathrop.
"I could have 'Liza Em'ly to help me, I presume. I could advertise 'n'
when they answered I could go in town 'n' look at them and take my pick.
I 'd want to be sure as they were quiet, 'n' I 'd want to be sure as
they were sick--I would n't take no chances at havin' one o' these
merry-go-round summer families land on me, I know. Like as not there 'd
be a boy, 'n' you know yourself, Mrs. Lathrop, that while a boy may
perhaps accidentally happen to be a comfort he 's very much more likely
just to be a boy."
"Yes," said Mrs. Lathrop--"I--"
"Yes, o' course," said Susan, "'n' look where he come out! If Jathrop
had been a girl how different everything would have been for him--not to
speak o' the rest of us. You can't deny that, Mrs. Lathrop, 'n' you
can't deny either as Jathrop would have been better off himself if he 'd
been any other thing as God ever made."
"He--" said the mother.
"You thought so," said Susan, "but nobody else ever did. Mothers is
always mothers 'n' the best will in the world don't seem able to help
'em out o' the scrape. There's Gran'ma Mullins just cryin' her eyes out
these days over Hiram, 'n' you 'd think Lucy was a sea-serpent and Hiram
was chained to a rock to hear her go on. She says she 's raised Hiram so
careful to be a comfort to her all these years 'n' she says he promised
her when he was only two 'n' a half years old that he 'd never smoke nor
drink nor get married. She says she 's trusted him all his life 'n' this
is the first time as he ever broke his word to her. She says all his
little ways is just so sweet, but she feels sure Lucy won't never let
him dip his bread in the platter-gravy 'n' Hiram 's so _awful_ fond of
platter-gravy. She says he likes to have the potato-smasher right by his
place at the table 'n' pound the meat to make more juice come out, 'n'
she says it 's been nothin' but a joy to her always to let him, 'cause
his father died when he wa'n't but eleven months old. But she says she
just knows Lucy 'll be death on Hiram's potato-smasher, 'n' she says she
most feels as if Lucy was goin' to be death on Hiram, too. She says she
can't look at Hiram these days without chokin' over thinkin' how Lucy 's
goin' to look at him inside o' three months. She says Hiram 's a very
tender nature, he can't be hurried awake mornin's, 'n' if he wakes up in
the night he _has_ to have gingerbread 'n' whistle till he drops off to
sleep again. She says no one as really loved Hiram would mind such
little trifles as that, but she says she has her doubts as to Lucy's
really lovin' Hiram, 'n' even if she does really love him now, she says
it ain't no reason as she 'll keep on lovin' him long. She says time
alone 'll tell what the end 'll be, 'n' she only hopes 'n' prays that
whatever Lucy does or does n't do, that she 'll never forget as she was
well 'n' richly warned beforehand, for she says she went herself in
streamin' tears 'n' begged her not to marry Hiram, an' she 's kept
straight on till now she 's almost done it."
Susan ceased speaking and took up her parasol.
"Are--" remonstrated Mrs. Lathrop.
"I must," said her neighbor; "I 'm hungry 'n' I want time to beat up
some soda-biscuit. It 's no use your askin' me to stay to supper,
because my heart is set on soda-biscuit 'n' I like my own better than
any one could ever like yours. I don't say that unkindly, Mrs. Lathrop,
for I ain't got a unkind thing about me, 'n' I could n't lay anything up
against you even if I wanted to. Even when I get all at outs with you
over your rockin' I never lay it up against you--we 've been friends too
many years. If you can be happy rockin' through life till some fine day
you rock over backward into your coffin, all I can say is that it won't
be my funeral, 'n' bein' as it will be yours, I shall be too busy that
day to fuss over ifs 'n' ands. I 'm keepin' the board 'n' saw-horses as
father had for you, 'n' the black bow from his door-bell, too, 'n' after
you 're done with them I 'm intendin' to give them to the first needy
'n' deservin' person as comes along in need of 'em."
Susan started down the steps.
"But--" protested Mrs. Lathrop.
"Probably not," said her friend, "but you never can tell. Anyhow I 'm
goin' now. You don't appear to consider how valuable my time is, Mrs.
Lathrop, but that 's another thing as I don't lay up against you."
* * * * *
For the next week Miss Clegg's financial difficulties rubbed on in much
the same way. So did the wedding preparations of Polly Allen and Lucy
Dill. Debts and dates are two things which are famous for movement, and
in between her periods of repose in her own house and of activity about
town Susan seized every chance possible to impart the impending state of
every one's affairs to her neighbor.
"The blacksmith was up again last night," she said one sunny morning,
when the need of hanging out her wash had brought her and Mrs. Lathrop
within conversational distance; "he wants to have his rent a little
lowered so as he can bric-à-brac the side of the crick himself. He says
there 's stones enough to do it, only he must hire a man to help him. I
told him I 'd consider it, 'n' goin' out in the dark he fell over the
scraper. I declare I got a damage-suit chill right down my spine 'n' I
run out with a candle, 'n', thank heaven, he had n't broke nothin' but
the scraper. I 've been wonderin' if it would pay to sue him for that,
but I don't believe I will, because folks has been fallin' over it ever
since father nailed it to the front o' the step so 's to let his pet
weasel go back 'n' forth at the side. The weasel 's been dead for ages,
but the scraper 's never been changed. I wish I could remember that
weasel. Father loved him 'n' mother hated him,--she said she was always
findin' him asleep in her shoes and sleeves. I was speakin' about it to
Gran'ma Mullins to-day 'n' she said she remembered comin' to tea at
mother's once 'n' their findin' the weasel in the tea-pot. I guess
that's the first time Gran'ma Mullins has spoken of any livin' soul but
Hiram in six months. She 's feelin' worse than ever over Lucy's decidin'
to be married at home on account o' the blue bengaline. She says that's
a extra turn o' the ice-cream-freezer handle as she never counted on
havin' to submit to. She says she naturally supposed if Hiram got
married as she 'd sit in the front pew for once in her life, 'n' see the
bride's dress good, 'n' hear the answers plain, 'n' now instid her only
child, as she 's loved like a mother ever since he was born, is goin' to
be married in a parlor as private as if he was bein' buried from the
smallpox! She says, oh dear, oh dear, seems like she never will be able
to live down that mirror as she smashed with her head the first time she
saw what she looked like. She says she wa'n't more 'n nine months old
'n' yet that mirror has tagged her right through life ever since. She
says she missed all her school examinations 'n' did n't get the deacon
'n' did get her husband, 'n' as if that wa'n't enough she must needs
lose her husband, 'n' she 's had no choice but to be a widow ever since,
'n' she 's been sprained in all directions 'n' been broke in all
directions 'n' her mince-meat 'most always ferments 'n' Hiram 's been
her one bright spot 'n' now he 's got to get married in a parlor. She
says the worst is as it would draw bread right out of a stone to see how
cheerful Hiram is these days,--she says any one would suppose as Lucy
Dill was goin' to surely make him happy to see how he goes smilin'
around. She says it 's one of the most pathetikest sights as she ever
see to watch Hiram markin' off the days on his calendar, 'n' she cried
when she told me. She says no one need n't tell her as there 's any one
else like Hiram, for she knows him well enough to know as it could n't
possibly be true. And then she cried again. I tell you what, Mrs.
Lathrop, I may be pretty well churned up over my money troubles, but I
can assure you as I feel like a monkey jumpin' through three rings at
once beside Gran'ma Mullins. Mrs. Macy says that when Hiram goes to see
Lucy you can hear her sobbin' way to the crick,--Mrs. Macy says the
first night she thought it was Mr. Jilkins comin' into town with a hot
wheel. I would n't be surprised myself to see Gran'ma Mullins drop dead
when she hears Lucy get Hiram for better for worse. It 's awful to see a
mother suffer so. I don't see how Hiram stands it. If I was him 'n' she
had a stroke at my wedding I should call it a stroke o' luck 'n' nothin'
else. Not that I don't feel kindly disposed towards Gran'ma Mullins, but
I 'm pretty tired hearin' her tale o' woe. Other folks' troubles is
generally more interestin' to other folks than they are to me, and
besides, if it really comes to talkin' of troubles, nobody ain't got no
more to talk about than I have myself. This money question is nippin' me
sharper in the calves every day, and when Mrs. Macy told me yesterday as
her steps was givin' out I felt like sittin' down on 'em when they done
it. Lord knows, I 'd never be one to wave my flag from no post-hole in
the thick of no flight, 'n' you know yourself, Mrs. Lathrop, that as a
general thing I keep a stiff upper-cut through black and blue, but still
if Mrs. Macy's steps really do break down I feel like I shall have no
choice but to Jack-and-Jill it after 'em."
"Maybe--" suggested Mrs. Lathrop, hopefully.
"Well, I ain't a-expectin' it anyhow. I 'm expectin' ruin, 'n' I can
hear it howlin' and nosin' around my house all night long. Somethin' was
swimmin' in the cistern last night, too,--if it made the other side safe
I 'm all right, but if it drowned there 'll be another bill. It ain't no
use your tryin' to cheer me up, Mrs. Lathrop, because I ain't to be
cheered. I know I 'm goin' to the poorhouse, 'n' I don't thank you nor
no other man for tellin' me to my face as what I know ain't so. Gran'ma
Mullins 'n' me is two very sad hearts these days, 'n' Heaven help us
both. To hear her talk you 'd think the Siamese twins was the sun and
moon apart compared to her 'n' Hiram, 'n' now she 's got to give him up
to Lucy Dill. She says Lucy ain't old enough to appreciate Hiram; she
says Lucy 'll expect Hiram to be pleased, 'n' Hiram ain't never pleased;
she says when Hiram keeps still 'n' don't say nothin' he's pleased, 'n'
when he goes to bed 'n' to sleep right off he 's real pleased. She says
Lucy won't understand, 'n' then there 'll be trouble. She says trouble
is a awful thing to have, 'n' she knows all about it 'cause she had it
with her husband. She says the only good o' havin' trouble with your
husband is the comfort you get out o' talkin' about it, 'n' that when
she thinks as Lucy 'll get her comfort out o' talkin' about Hiram she
pretty nearly gets up and goes right out of her mind."
Susan stopped suddenly; she had been standing with her basket in her
hand, in the attitude of one arrested for a moment's inquiry, throughout
this conversation.
"Did you--" said Mrs. Lathrop.
"Yes, I did. It was n't no great joy, pinched as I am, but I believe in
doin' what you can for people gettin' married--God help 'em--'n' I give
'em each somethin'. I give Lucy a very good pair of scissors as mother
had, as always grabs me in the joint so I can't use 'em, 'n' I give
Polly our best carvin' knife. They was both sharp things, so they each
had to give me a cent to hold on to friendship. I know two cents ain't
much, but it 's better 'n nothin', 'n' I may tell you in confidence,
Mrs. Lathrop, as all my presents 'll be sharp right along from now on."
Mrs. Lathrop raised her eyebrows to testify to the acute perception
which had grasped her friend's point at once.
"Are you--" she asked presently.
"Goin' to the weddin's?--oh, yes. It may make me a little blue to look
at Lucy, but it could n't but cheer anybody to compare themselves with
Gran'ma Mullins. She says it 's goin' to half murder her, 'n' she 's
made Hiram promise as he 'll give her his first husband's kiss. Lucy 's
got the idea as she 'll have a weddin' procession o' Mr. Dill 'n' her,
an' Hiram 'n' his mother, down the stairs 'n' in through the back
parlor. Hiram don't want to, 'cause he 's afraid his mother won't let go
of him when the time comes. Hiram says he ain't lived through these last
weeks o' half stranglin' without knowin' what he 's talkin' about all
right, but Lucy 's dead set on the procession. They 're goin' to try 'n'
keep Polly 'n' the deacon a little back 'n' out o' sight, 'cause there
's a many as thinks as half o' Gran'ma Mullins's tears is for the
deacon, only she can't say so. Mrs. Allen says every one is talkin' that
idea, 'n' Mrs. Sperrit says she hopes to Heaven as it ain't so, for how
the deacon is to be kept a little back God only knows, for he 's so
happy these days that he 's more than ever everlastin'ly on tap. Mrs.
Sperrit 's been very kind; she 's goin' to take Gran'ma Mullins to the
Dills', 'n' she says she 'll take her home afterwards. Gran'ma Mullins
is goin' to carry ammonia 'n' camphor, 'n' be sure an' have the corks
out of 'em both."
"I wish--" said Mrs. Lathrop.
"Yes, I do, too," said her friend, heartily, "but I 'll come 'n' tell
you about them both right afterwards. I d'n know as I was ever more
curious in my life than I am to see how Lucy is going to claw Hiram free
long enough to marry him. 'N' I 'm interested in Polly's weddin', too.
But there is no use deceivin' you as to one thing, Mrs. Lathrop, 'n'
that is as what interests me the most of all, is what under the sun I 'm
goin' to do myself to get some money. I can't live on bread 'n' water
alone, 'n' even if I could, the flour 'll soon give out if I bread it
along steady for very long. I 've got to get some money somehow, 'n' I
've about made up my mind as to what I 'll have to do. It makes me sick
to think of it, 'cause I hate him so, but I guess I 'll have to come to
it in the end. I 'll go to the weddin's, 'n' then I 'll brace up 'n'
make the leap."
Mrs. Lathrop looked perturbed--even slightly anxious.
"I 'm sorry not to be able to tell you all my plans," Miss Clegg
continued, "but--"