JOHN ALDEN--WITH A DIFFERENCE
Winter had come. Early December though it was, the snow lay deep and
smooth over meadow and hill, and hung in fluffy masses on the branches
of pine and fir. Calvin Parks had got rid of the wheels that never
ceased to incommode him, and jingled along merrily on runners, both he
and Hossy enjoying the change.
It had become a matter of course that he should turn in at the Sills'
gateway whenever he passed along their road, and he managed to pass once
or twice a week. So on this crystal morning he found himself driving
into the stable yard almost unconsciously. The brown horse whinnied as
he clattered into the stable, and an answering whinny came from the
furthest stall in the corner.
"That's old John sayin' good mornin', hossy!" said Calvin. "How are you,
John? Who else is to home?"
He looked along the row of stalls. "Here's the old hoss of all, and
here's the mare. The young colt is out; presume likely Sam is gone to
market, hossy. What say to gettin' a bite in his stall? He won't be back
till dinner time."
Hossy approving, Calvin unharnessed him, and he stepped into the stall
without further invitation.
"Now you be real friendly with old John and the mare!" said Calvin, "and
I'll come for you sooner than you're ready."
The brown horse flung him a brief snort of assurance, and plunged his
head into the manger; and Calvin fastened the door and made his way
slowly toward the house.
The back view of the Sill farmhouse was hardly less pleasant than the
front, especially when, as now, the morning sun lay full on the warm
yellow of the house, the bright green of the door, and the reddish
granite of the well-scoured steps. A screen of dark evergreens set off
all these cheerful tints; and to make the picture still gayer Mary
Sands, a scarlet "sontag" tied trimly over her blue dress, was sitting
on the cellar door, picking over tomatoes.
Calvin Parks was conscious of missing Hossy. He wanted some one to
appeal to.
"Do you see that?" he murmured, addressing the landscape. "Do you call
that handsome? because if you don't, you are a calf's-head, whatever
else you may be."
Mary Sands looked up, and her bright face grew brighter at sight of him.
"Oh, Mr. Parks!" she cried. "I am glad to see you. I've been wishin' all
the week you'd come by and stop in a bit. Now this is a pleasure,
surely! Come right in!"
"Hold on, Miss Hands!" said Calvin, as she moved toward the door.
"Hold on just a minute. How about the tomaytoes?"
[Illustration: "'HOLD ON, MISS HANDS!' SAID CALVIN, AS SHE MOVED TOWARD
THE DOOR."]
"Oh, they can wait!" said Mary. "I was just turning 'em so they'd get
the sun on all sides."
"Ain't it remarkable late for tomaytoes?" asked Calvin. "I dono as ever
I see ripe ones at this season. I expect you can do what you like with
gardin truck, Miss Hands, same as with most things."
Mary blushed and twinkled.
"Oh, I don't know!" she answered. "I've always had good luck with late
vegetables. I do suppose I've kept these tomaytoes on later than common,
though; I confess I'm rather proud of them, Mr. Parks. Cousins say I
tend 'em like young chickens, and I don't know but I do. I put 'em out
mornings, when 'tis bright and warm like this, and take 'em in before
sundown, fear they'll get chilled. Anything ripens so much better in
the sun."
"I don't believe you've turned 'em all," said Calvin. "I should admire
to set here a spell, if 'tis warm enough for you. I ripen better in the
sun, too;" he twinkled at her. "_Is_ it warm enough for you?" he added
anxiously.
"My, yes!" said Mary Sands. "Why, 'tis like summer in this bright sun,
and this cellar door is warm as a stove. Well, if you're really a mind
to help, Mr. Parks,--I'm sure you're more than kind."
There was plenty of room on the cellar door for them and the tomatoes.
Calvin curled up his long legs under him, and gave his attention for
several minutes to the Crimson Cushions and Ponderosas, turning them
with careful nicety.
"Pretty, ain't they?" he said; "some of 'em, that is."
"Real pretty!" said Mary Sands. "I do enjoy them, Mr. Parks; 'tis a
kind of play with me, tending my tomaytoes. I expect I'm foolish about
growin' things."
"I expect if there was more had your kind of foolishness," replied
Calvin, "the world would be a better place than it is."
"See this one!" Mary went on; "for all the world like a red satin
pincushion my grandmother used to have in her basket. 'Tis well named,
the Crimson Cushion is."
"Look at this feller," said Calvin, "all green and yeller, and squinnied
up like his co't was too tight for him. It looks like the boys; honest
now, don't it, Miss Hands?"
Mary tinkled a reproachful laugh.
"Now Mr. Parks, I wonder at you. Poor Cousins!"
"I ain't takin' up no collection for the boys!" said Calvin coolly.
"Where's Sam? I see the young colt is out."
"He's gone to market; and Cousin Sims' in a dreadful takin', for fear
he'll get run away with, or hove out, or something."
Calvin stared. "Why, the colt is ten year old if he is a day!" he said.
"I told him that; but he said it didn't make no odds, he'd never found
out he was grown up, and acted accordin'. He werries terrible about
Cousin Sam every time he goes out, and Cousin Sam werries about him. I
notice it growin' on the two of 'em. Mr. Parks, I believe that down in
their hearts them two are missin' each other more than tongue can tell,
and neither one of them knows what's the matter with him."
"You don't say!" said Calvin. "Why don't they make up, then? Ridic'lous
old lobsters!"
"They don't know how!" said Mary. "Even if they mistrust what ails 'em,
and I don't believe they do as yet."
She was silent a moment, and then added: "Mr. Parks, I feel I can speak
out to you, that have been their friend right along. I wish't one of
Cousins would marry; there! I do so!"
Calvin Parks's face, which had been radiant with cheerfulness, turned to
brown wood. He looked straight before him, with no more expression than
the green tomato he held in his hand.
"That so!" he said slowly. "Which--which one of 'em would you consider
best suited to matrimony, Miss Hands, if 'tisn't too much to ask?"
"I don't know as I care which it is," cried Mary, earnestly,--Calvin
winced, and dropped the tomato, which rolled slowly down the cellar door
and plumped into the snow,--"so long as it's one of 'em. They ought to
have a woman _belongin'_ to them, Mr. Parks, as would take an interest
in things because they was hers, you understand, and care for whichever
one she'd marry and the other one too. They'd never ought to have been
_let_ act so foolish. You see, they'd always had a woman to do for 'em,
and think for 'em, and _live_ for 'em; and the minute she was gone they
fell to pieces, kind of; 'tis often so with men folks," she said simply.
"They ain't calc'lated to be alone. But even now, if there was a woman
belongin' to 'em, that had the right to say how things should be, I
believe she could bring 'em together in no time."
There was a long silence, Mary turning tomatoes, Calvin staring straight
ahead of him with the same wooden countenance. At length he cleared his
throat and spoke slowly and laboriously.
"There's something in what you say, Miss Hands, and I'm bound to confess
that--that I've had thoughts of something of the kind before you spoke.
But--well, we'll put it this way. Which of them two old--of them two
individuals, we'll call 'em for this once--would a woman be likely to
fancy? I--I should be pleased to have your opinion on that p'int."
Mary considered, turning the Crimson Cushions meanwhile with a careful
hand. Calvin, misunderstanding her silence, went on.
"What I mean is--if a woman was thinkin' of matrimony--" he winced
again, seeming to hear Mr. Sam's voice squeaking out the word,--"if a
woman was thinkin' of matrimony, and one of them two should take her
fancy more than the other--why--a person as was friendly to all
concerned might try his hand in the way of helpin' to bring it about."
Mary glanced up quickly at him, but no friendly twinkle responded to her
glance. Calvin's brown eyes were still dark with trouble, and he still
stared moodily away from her.
"'Tis hard to say!" she replied after a pause. "Cousin Sim needs the
most care."
"He does so!" said Calvin Parks. "Sim certinly needs care. And--he's a
home-lovin' man, Simeon is, and sober, and honest. There's things you
could find in Sim that's no worse than what you'd find in some others, I
make no doubt; and--and any one would have a first-rate home, and every
comfort."
"Oh! Mr. Parks, but do you think any woman _could_ make up her mind to
marry Cousin Sim?" said Mary.
Calvin gave her a bewildered look, and went on, still slowly and
laboriously.
"Not bein' a woman myself, ma'am, nor had any special dealin's with the
sex since I growed up, it ain't easy for me to form an opinion. But
since you ask me honest--well--maybe not! This brings us to Sam'l. Now
Sam'l is a man that has his faculties, such as they are. He has his
health, and he's smart and capable. A good farmer Sam has always been,
and a good manager. Careful and savin'; and there'd be the house, same
as in Simeon's case. Anybody would have them a good home, and--"
"Oh! my _goodness_!" cried Mary Sands. Calvin looked up with a start,
and saw her face on fire.
"What is it?" he asked, helplessly.
"Oh! don't you see?" she cried. "I was thinkin' about them, poor old
things, and wishin' they might find some one; but you've shown me the
other side. Mr. Parks, they never, never, _never_ could find any woman
_to_ marry them!"
Calvin Parks's face was a study of bewilderment.
"I--I don't understand!" he faltered. "Do you mean that you
wouldn't--couldn't--fancy either one of the boys, Miss Hands?"
"_Me_!" cried Mary Sands; "me fancy one of them!"
Involuntarily she rose to her feet; Calvin rose too, looking anxiously
down at her. There was a moment of tense silence. "Do--do you _want_ me
to marry one of them, Mr. Parks?" asked Mary, in a small shaking voice.
"Want you to?" cried Calvin Parks. "_Want_ you to?"
At this moment Mr. Sam came round the corner. Mary Sands fled, and as
she ran into the house there floated back from the closing door--was it
a sound of laughter--or of tears?
"What in the name of hemlock is goin' on here?" asked Mr. Sam. "Calvin
Parks, what are you about, treadin' of them tomaytoes under foot? You've
creshed as much as a dozen of 'em under them great hoofs of your'n."
"That you, Sam?" said Calvin Parks. "How are you? I'd shut my mouth if I
was you. You look handsomer that way than what you do with it open."