The three were sitting in the living room one evening in June. Sam and
Tilly were reading and Arma was getting out her lessons, when a
resounding knock on the door was heard, and a great big, strong, jolly
man burst in, shook hands with Sam and noisily proclaimed how glad he
was to see “this darn old fraud” once more.
Sam’s face lighted with pleasure as he welcomed him and introduced him
as “Billy Gesundheit, my old friend and comrade in Pittsburgh.”
“My word, what a name!” thought Tilly, “But what a fine looking man. He
seems too good to be true.” This was during her trip upstairs to inspect
the guest room where he was to spend the night.
Sam had lived two years in the smokehouse city as chemist to a young
struggling steel plant. Before he left this puny infant industry had
begun putting on the seven league boots of manhood. At this time
Gesundheit was a hearty young workman to whom Sam took a fancy. This was
vigorously reciprocated; Sam was carried off to Billy’s home and
introduced to his widowed mother who was a wonderful housekeeper. She
became interested in Sam at once—for was he not a friend of her
Billy?—sewed on his buttons, darned his socks, and wound up by taking
complete possession. Sam soon moved into their spare room and, as the
homely phrase has it, “she ate him and slept him.”
Billy informed them that he had risen in rank considerably since Sam’s
departure and was now acting as manager of the works. He had come to New
York on business and must soon leave for home; he expected to make
frequent visits, however, and here he looked at Tilly, and he would not
fail to visit them as often as possible. He also informed them that
to-morrow was a holiday for them; he was to take entire charge, manage
all details and pay all expenses; all they need do was to enjoy
themselves as much as possible.
After breakfast next morning Billy produced a map of the city for each
member of the party. “A taxicab is coming at eight,” he began, “to take
us to the place where our excursion starts. I’m going to walk part of
the way; the rest of you may do so or ride, just as you please.”
“Where are we going?” said Tilly.
“We are going to circumnavigate the city,” said Billy. “I doubt whether
you know your own town. Most people do not. If we first go around it,
and then go through all the streets and alleys you will know it on the
outside at least. After we get through we will quiz one another on the
names of the streets and alleys and their location. It is good fun and
has a use beside.”
For about a mile the city line ran along the middle of a highway. It was
not a well paved highway. There were stones, tin cans and piles of
rubbish to be dodged. Then the line led through an orchard. Here Billy
got out, inviting the others to go with him, but only Tilly accepted the
invitation. The others followed the road, agreeing to wait for the
pedestrians at a point further along, while the foot passengers
gracefully climbed the fence. They had not gone more than a few hundred
feet among the trees, which were old and decayed, before they caught
sight of a house ahead. Sitting on the back porch in a hickory rocking
chair was an ancient lady, clad in calico, rocking gently to and fro
while knitting a pair of socks. As the travelers drew near, she looked
up and said:
“I’m knitting these socks for my son. He don’t like wool next his skin,
so I use cotton, but I have an awful time getting the right kind of
thread. If the thread is too coarse, he says they look like gunny bags
and if it is too fine the socks are not warm enough. He is very
pertickler, my son is. Maybe you know him; his name is Winterbottom;
first name Jeremiah, after his father. He’s well known in Wilmington.
Don’t you know him?”
“No,” said Billy, sitting down on the edge of the porch and making room
for Tilly beside him, “I don’t know him but I hear he is a very fine
man. I hope you will tell us more about him. What is his business?”
“Making flat irons. What’s yours?”
“I make iron and steel.”
“I don’t see then why you don’t know him. You got a nice lookin wife.”
“Thank you, I think so too,” said Billy, while Tilly blushed.
“Why did you let her think we were married?” said Tilly, after they had
left the old lady behind.
“Well I kinda wish we were, and I hoped she only had the news a little
ahead of time.”
“You are certainly a fast worker.”
“Sure, I no sooner saw you than I picked you. I can always make up my
mind quickly, and I’m after you from now on.”
This made Tilly laugh, but she did not seem displeased.
They picnicked in a grove near the edge of town and then finished the
circuit. Then they navigated all the streets and alleys and returned
home to quiz one another all that evening. They were all surprised to
find how much they had learned about the city.
Billy’s visits followed one another in quick succession. He knew his own
mind, as he had said, and Tilly’s inclined to him more and more. When
Sam awoke to the state of affairs he knew the second bomb had fallen and
might burst at any minute.