CHAPTER XL.

SELLING OUT.

The flight of the Hawk did not long dampen the ardor of those who were

looking for signs in the heaven above and the earth beneath. I have

known a school-master to stand, switch in hand, and give a stubborn boy

a definite number of minutes to yield. The boy who would not have

submitted on account of any amount of punishment, was subdued by the

awful waiting. We have all read the old school-book story of the

prison-warden who brought a mob of criminals to subjection by the same

process. Millerism produced some such effect as this. The assured belief

of the believers had a great effect on others; the dreadful drawing on

of the set time day by day produced an effect in some regions absolutely

awful. An eminent divine, at that time a pastor in Boston, has told me

that the leaven of Adventism permeated all religious bodies, and that he

himself could not avoid the fearful sense of waiting for some

catastrophe--the impression that all this expectation of people must

have some significance. If this was the effect in Boston, imagine the

effect in a country neighborhood like Clark township. Andrew, skeptical

as he was visionary, was almost the only man that escaped the

infection. Jonas would have been as frankly irreverent if the day of

doom had come as he was at all times; but even Jonas had come to the

conclusion that "somethin' would happen, or else somethin' else."

August, with a young man's impressibility, was awe-stricken with

thoughts of the nearing end of the world, and Julia accepted it

as settled.

It is a good thing that the invisible world is so thoroughly shut out

from this. The effect of too vivid a conception of it is never

wholesome. It was pernicious in the middle age, and clairvoyance and

spirit-rapping would be great evils to the world, if it were not that

the spirits, even of-the ablest men, in losing their bodies seem to lose

their wits. It is well that it is so, for if Washington Irving dictated

to a medium accounts of the other world in a style such as that of his

"Little Britain," for instance, we should lose all interest in the

affairs of this sphere, and nobody would buy our novels.

This fever of excitement kept alive Samuel Anderson's determination to

sell his farms for a trifle as a testimony to unbelievers. He found that

fifty dollars would meet his expenses until the eleventh of August, and

so the price was set at that.

As soon as Andrew heard of this, he privately arranged with Jonas to buy

it; but Mrs. Anderson utterly refused. She said she could see through it

all. Jonas was one of Andrew's fingers. Andrew had got to be a sort of a

king in Clark township, and Jonas was--was the king's fool. She did not

mean that any of her property should go into the hands of the clique

that were trying to rob her of her property and her daughter. Even for

two weeks they should not own her house!

Before this speech was ended, Bob Walker entered the door.

Bob was tall, stooped, good-natured, and desperately poor. With ton

children under twelve years of age, with an incorrigible fondness for

loafing and telling funny stories, Bob saw no chance to improve his

condition. A man may be either honest or lazy and got rich; but a man

who Is both honest and indolent is doomed. Bob lived in a cabin on the

Anderson farm, and when not hired by Samuel Anderson he did days' work

here and there, riding to and from his labor on a raw-boned mare, that

was the laughing-stock of the county. Bob pathetically called her

Splinter-shin, and he always rode bareback, for the very good reason

that he had neither saddle nor sheepskin.

[Illustration: "I WANT TO BUY YOUR PLACE."]

"Mr. Anderson," said Bob, standing in the door and trying to straighten

the chronic stoop out of his shoulders, "I want to buy your place."

If Bob had said that he wanted to be elected president Samuel Anderson

could not have been more surprised.

"You look astonished; but folks don't know everything. I 'low I know how

to lay by a little. But I never could git enough to buy a decent kind of

a tater-patch. So I says to my ole woman this mornin', 'Jane,' says I,

'let's git some ground. Let's buy out Mr. Anderson, and see how it'll

feel to be rich fer a few days. If she all burns up, let her burn, I

say. We've had a plaguey hard time of it, let's see how it goes to own

two farms fer awhile.' And so we thought we'd ruther hev the farms fer

two weeks than a little money in a ole stocking. What d'ye say?"

Jonas here put in that he didn't see why they mightn't sell to him as

well as to Bob Walker. Cynthy Ann had worked fer Mrs. Anderson fer

years, and him and Cynthy was a-goin' to be one man soon. Why not

sell to them?

"Because selling to you is selling to Andrew," said Mrs. Abigail, in a

conclusive way.

And so Bob got the farms, possession to be given after the fourteenth of

August, thus giving the day of doom three days of grace. And Bob rode

round the county boasting that he was as rich a man as there was in

Clark Township. And Jonas declared that ef the eend did come in the

month of August, Abigail would find some onsettled bills agin her fer

cheatin' the brother outen the inheritance. And Clark Township

agreed with him.

August was secretly pleased that one obstacle to his marriage was gone.

If Andrew should prove right, and the world should outlast the middle of

August, there would be nothing dishonorable in his marrying a girl that

would have nothing to sacrifice.

Andrew, for his part, gave vent to his feelings, as usual, by two or

three bitter remarks leveled at the whole human race, though nowadays he

was inclined to make exceptions in favor of several people, of whom

Julia stood first. She was a woman of the old-fashioned kind, he said,

fit to go alongside Héloise or Chaucer's Grisilde.

The End of the World: A Love Story · 第 40 / 46 章