THE DEDICATION OF THE LIBRARY.
The dedication of the library proved to be a very enjoyable affair
although the military "fuss and feather," the Independence Day racket and
the ostentatious hoisting of flags were left out. It was more like a
church dedication, minus the mounted marshals and uniformed cadets which
are among the latter day improvements or experiments. The Schwarmers stood
out more conspicuously than they would otherwise have done; but they were
no more so than the Killsbury people felt that they had a right to be.
Mrs. Schwarmer was in regal robes with which the ladies were much pleased.
Mrs. Martin nodded to Mrs. Arundel and said:
"She has honored us at last by putting on her best apparel."
Adelaide was dressed in a lovely white mull. Nobody had noticed until then
how very pretty she had grown. Mr. Schwarmer insisted on wearing his plain
business suit as it was eminently proper he should since he had to do the
main business part--that is, hand over the deeds to the Town. That being
done he made a short characteristic speech, in which he said:
"This building is not a monument to myself, most assuredly it is not; but
it would have been if the architect had carried his point. He planned to
have a giraffe style of tower, which was to rise about sixty feet above
the roof and be furnished with a bell that would weigh 3,000 pounds and
peal out every hour of the day and night. But as it was going to be a gift
to the people and named after my daughter I thought they ought to have
something to say about it, and they did; most assuredly they did (cheers
and laughter). You see, my dear friends and fellow citizens, I have
discarded the old barbarous saying--'Never look a gift-horse in the
mouth.' Hereafter my maxim will be: Look a gift horse in the mouth very
carefully and pay particular attention to his grinders. (Laughter and
applause.) But, as I was saying, the architect's plan was handed over to
the Golden Rule President and referred to the people--'all the people,' my
daughter included, and they decided that the giraffe tower and thunderous
bell would be a superfluity if not a nuisance, most assuredly they did.
They decided that they did not want to be kept awake nights by the
clanging and the whanging of a brazen bell. Also that they had never had
any trouble finding out the time of day."
Schwarmer sat down amidst cries of "Good, good!" "Schwarmer's a wit."
"What's the matter with Schwarmer? He's a wit. He's a wit."
Mrs. Schwarmer was to do the naming of the library as Adelaide was under
age; and so it was highly proper and natural that Adelaide should stand
between her father and mother during the process; and she did stand
between them with her slender hands resting on an arm of each and looking
as one of the Killsburyians remarked, "for all the world as though she
were going to fly."
She really did feel happy enough to fly when she saw the radiant faces of
Ruth and Ralph and of Mrs. and Mr. Cornwallis, who had come on from
Chicago on purpose to attend the dedication.
Yes, the people of Killsbury really did enjoy this peaceful, home-like
affair. Although they may not have been fully aware of it, they really
enjoyed it much more than they possibly could, if there had been a whole
regiment of strange soldiers to take all the best seats and leave them to
hang on the outside and peer in at the doors and windows. They enjoyed the
speeches, for all the speech-makers in town were there, the Golden Rule
President and Father Ferrill inclusive. They would not have heard a word
of them if they had been pushed to the background, with an Independence
day racket in the rear. Besides it was so much more in harmony with books
and the spirits that made them or would wish to commune with them, than
the ordinary civic fuss and noise would have been.
Mr. Bombs did not attend. Indeed why should he? He had no interest in it
after his new rockets were left out and he was almost as much a stranger
in the community as the soldier would have been. Besides he was going to
rehearse his piece.
Adelaide appreciated the former reason and Mr. Schwarmer the latter.
"That's right, Fons," said Mr. Schwarmer, "you must have your siege all
fixed so nobody will get hurt, most assuredly you must. You'd better leave
out some of the most striking things than to have anybody struck blind. I
don't know of anybody on this side of the drink that would be willing to
be made black and blue all over or have his hair burned off by the falling
of a burning tower, as old Crags did at a Pyro-show in London."
"You forget that even his willingness didn't hold out," laughed Bombs. "He
clothed himself with asbestos for the last night."
"Don't know as I blame him much and I'm sure Addie wouldn't blame him at
all, most assuredly I am," nodded Schwarmer significantly.
Adelaide and her mother came out a moment later dressed for the library.
Bombs looked at Adelaide as though he had never seen her before, made his
lowest bow and went to his rehearsal. It was well he did for one of the
Pyro-men was on the point of charging a motor that would have laid
Yorktown in ashes before the siege began.
As it was, however, the siege came off at the appointed time and was
witnessed by a large majority of the people of Killsbury besides the
Schwarmer guests that came up on the evening train.
The best that can be said of the siege is that it passed off very smoothly
and without incident. Historically considered it was just about as
valuable as the famous pyro-show of the burning of Rome, where Nero goes
down beneath a falling pillar of fire. The siege of Yorktown ended with
the going down of Lord Cornwallis and his 8,000 soldiers into the
pyrotechnic gulf especially prepared for them.
The audience applauded and Adelaide was feeling relieved to think that all
was over when a vociferous encore set in and Mr. Bombs came on the stage.
He looked amazingly brilliant. He had all his jewels on surely, and more
too, she thought. There seemed to be a nest of them in the curl of jet
black hair on his forehead. Was he going to do that tiresome siege over
again? No, he would make a bow and a speech, and that would end it
certainly.
He began: "The London Pyro-king who boasts of his prowess in this country,
has invented a piece which he calls '_Eagle Screams_'. Turn about is fair
play. I have invented a piece which I have named '_Johnny Bull's
Bellows_.' You will now have the pleasure or grief of looking Johnny full
in the face and listening to his bellowings."
He bowed again more politely and gracefully than before--as graceful as
a--serpent, she finally put it and "polite enough to shake hands with a
crab," as the Indians say. She had never seen him look so
splendid--so--startling; but she liked him less than ever.
The bull's head that was formed while Adelaide was forming her opinions
was shaped like a veritable bull's head and outlined with stars of small
magnitude. From its mouth and nostrils issued great streams of different
colored fires. The bellowings were effectively but mysteriously produced.
"I can't see faw the life of me, Mr. Bombs, just how you could have
compassed all that," Miss Drawling was saying, when something in the
nature of a revelation cut short her sentence. The bellowings suddenly
ceased and loud oaths and grumblings and groanings took their place. Mr.
Bombs rushed behind the scenes and saw the man whom he had engaged to do
the bellowing, lying in a collapsed condition on the floor of the stage
with a whiskey bottle in his hand.
"Confound you!" exclaimed Bombs, "what does all this mean?"
"It means that the lungs av me have been giving out with the dress
rehearsal and the play on top av it and I am sthriving to reinforce
them."
"Allow me to say that your efforts are not successful. You can be excused
until further notice, and you," he added turning to the chief Pyro, "will
oblige me by winding up the spectacle without any more swearing."
The spectacle of Johnny Bull's Bellows was wound up according to order and
Mr. Bombs appeared on the stage and gave a humorous account of the
complication behind the scenes which had cut off the spectacle rather
prematurely, and added that it was not quite so bad as the thing that had
happened to Mr. Pang on his first presentation of the burning of Rome. He
related the incident and the guests were greatly amused--almost as much,
perhaps, as they would have been if "Johnny Bull's Bellowings" had been
carried out to the full extent.
And so, Mr. Bombs fancied he had not failed after all. If he had done
nothing more he had proved himself to have the proper personality for the
making of a successful Pyro-King. He could fascinate and mystify the
public. "You see," he said to Adelaide the next morning, "I might better
have such accidents and experiences now than when I get about my larger
piece--'The Battle of the Wilderness.'"
"The Battle of the Wilderness!" exclaimed Adelaide. "Is it possible you
are going to try making an amusement out of that dreadful battle?"
"Yes, it's a possibility," laughed Bombs, "and I know of another
possibility, that will match it beautifully."
"What is it, Mr. Bombs?"
"That Miss Adelaide Schwarmer will not be so scrupulous about such matters
when I return from Europe as she is now."
"Why do you think so, Mr. Bombs? Have you changed that way since you were
my age?"
"No, Miss Adelaide, but I was a boy and you are a girl."
"What difference could that make, Mr. Bombs."
"A mighty sight of difference, Miss Adelaide. You were not educated or
expected to have anything to do with business concerns. I was and with the
very biggest kind, and they all mean war, more or less."
"O dear, how dreadful! I can't understand it at all, Mr. Bombs."
"Of course you can't, Miss Adelaide. No truly good woman can. Business,
especially of the vasty kind is a devil incarnate in her pure eyes."
"And it seems to me that your kind of business is the worst of all, Mr.
Bombs, and that there's no need of it in this world."
"Can't you think of something more consoling? This is your last chance. I
am going to the city tomorrow to see King Pang beat himself in his
twenty-fifth saturnalia of fire. Then to Chicago to see him help the
Chicagoians beat the St. Louis dedication and re-burn the city. After that
I will start out on what you have called my 'worst of all business.'"
Adelaide thought of Laurens Cornwallis' tragic death, of Mary Langley's
fright and the poor man with the exhausted lungs; but she did not speak
until the silence had become unbearable to Mr. Bombs and he asked:
"What is it, Miss Adelaide? Why don't you speak out?"
"Hush! Mr. Bombs. I am listening! I thought I heard a voice. Your mother's
or mine."
They were discouraging words for the last--almost cruel he thought for him
who had known nothing of mother love and very little of parental care.
They made him feel like a savage almost. He went to Miss Drawling for an
offset. He knew he could get enough encouragement there and he did find
more than enough. Not but what he liked her flattery but the personality
behind it. Faugh! It was simply disgusting. Any woman who could think and
talk as she did, was worse than a man. She was a brute. Would it be ever
thus, was one of the questions he asked himself. Was one truly loveable
creature going to say things to him that would not be endurable in
themselves and was another going to say opposite things which would make
herself a creature to be abhorred. With the unreasonableness of the
youthful man he hoped to find a mean between the two--that is a woman who
would love himself most deeply and devotedly even while she was finding
fault with and condoning his business enterprise. He did not realize it
but it was as much as to say that he knew he was launching out in an
unrighteous course; but that he was determined not to turn from it for the
love of any creature whatever. Adelaide understood his attitude toward
herself and she did not care a rush for it; but there was something about
his attitude to others which she did not fully understand. It was
struggling to light and it filled her soul with dread.