* * * * *
Mr. Carver’s visit to the Crooked Pond School alluded to in the
following letter was quite an event for my Summer Sweeting friends, and
caused an extra amount of cooking to be done in both families. Boys
don’t half appreciate the blessing of not being too old to have goodies
sent them. Now goodies taste good to me, very good, but I haven’t a
friend in the world who would think of boiling up a kettleful of
molasses into candy, or of making a waiterful of seed-cakes to send me.
_Too old_, they say,--in actions, if not in words. How cruelly we are
misjudged sometimes, and by those who ought to know us best! I shall
never be too old to receive a box like that of William Henry’s, never,
never!--unless my whole constitution is altered and several _clauses_
taken out of it.
I remember of seeing that waiter of “good seed-cakes” on grandmother’s
best room table, between the front windows, waiting to be packed in Mr.
Carver’s valise. Mr. Carver’s black silk neck-handkerchief, tall hat,
clean dickies, stockings, two red and white silk pocket-handkerchiefs,
and various other articles were distributed over the adjacent chairs,
and his umbrella, in a brown cambric covering, stood near by. I have the
impression that most of these things were ironed over, five or six
times, as grandmother felt that apparel going away from home could not
be too much ironed. Besides, it seemed to her impossible that such an
event as Billy’s father setting out on his travels should take place
without extra exertions in some quarter.
Mr. Carver had other business which took him from home, but as “going to
see Billy” was thought _enough to tell Mrs. Paulina_, why, it is enough
for me to tell. “Mrs. Paulina” was an elderly woman, the wife of Mr.
John Slade, one of the neighbors, and she was called “Mrs. Paulina,” to
distinguish her from several other Mrs. Slades.
Mrs. Paulina had her own opinion as to how money and time should be
spent,--everybody’s money and time. She was one of the prying sort, and
had wonderful skill in ferreting out all the whys and wherefores of her
neighbor’s proceedings. It was a common thing at the Farm to say, when
undertaking some new scheme, “Well, how much shall we tell Mrs.
Paulina?” It being a matter of course that she would inquire into it.
The girls often amused themselves by giving her _blinding_ answers just
to see how she would contrive to carry her point. I remember their
having great fun doing this, just after William Henry went away to
school. Lucy Maria said ’t was just like a conundrum to Mrs. Paulina, a
great mammoth conundrum, and the poor thing must be told about “Old
Uncle Wallace,” or she would wear herself out, wondering “how Mr. Carver
could possibly afford the money.”
The “Old Uncle Wallace” thus brought to the rescue of Mrs. Paulina would
probably not have came to her rescue, or to any woman’s rescue, had he
been free to choose, seeing that he lived and died a bachelor, and a
stingy bachelor at that! The old miser was a distant uncle,--either
half-uncle, or grand-uncle, or half grand-uncle of the Mr. Carvers, and
lived, that is before he died, in a town some twenty miles off. Billy’s
father was named for Uncle Wallace, and when a little boy, lived in the
same neighborhood, and was quite a favorite with him.
The acquaintance with that distant branch of the family, however, had
not been kept up, in fact I have no recollection of a single member of
it ever coming to the Farm. They were people well to do in the world,
and neither Mr. Carver nor Uncle Jacob were men to “honey round” rich
relations. Certainly they never would have fawned upon the miserly old
fellow, who had the reputation of being mean and tricky as well as
miserly.
It seems, however, that “Uncle Wallace” did not wholly forget his
namesake, for in his will he left him quite a valuable wood-lot near
Corry’s Pond,--some six or eight miles from the Farm,--and a few hundred
dollars besides.
This occurred not a great while before my first ride out with Uncle
Jacob. Mr. Carver had long felt that Billy was being spoiled at home,
and the Crooked Pond School being recommended at that time as “really
good,” and “not too expensive,” he resolved that while _feeling rich_ he
would place his son at that institution. And he was more especially
inclined to do so for the reason that an old friend of his lived near
there, and this friend’s wife promised to see that the boy did not go
about in actual rags. She is probably the person to whom William Henry
refers in his first letters, as “the woman I go to have my buttons sewed
on to.”
The above circumstances were duly imparted to Mrs. Paulina, yet that
perplexed woman got no relief. True, it was something to know where the
money came from, but “How could a man,” she asked, “spend so much money
on eddication, when it might be drawing interest, or put into land?”
Mrs. Paulina couldn’t guess. She gave it up.
* * * * *
_William Henry’s Letter to his Grandmother._