"Save Me From My Friends"
"Miss Jinny! Miss Jinny! Wait a minit. Dar's a man yander at de back
do' dat wants fer ter ax yo' sumpin' he say," called Mammy, as she
hurried through the hall just as Mrs. Carruth was leaving the house
upon the following Monday morning.
"What is it, Mammy?" asked Mrs. Carruth, pausing.
"He say he want ter see yo' pintedly."
Mrs. Carruth retraced her steps and upon reaching the back porch found
Mr. Pringle waiting to see her.
"Hope I haven't delayed you, Mrs. Carruth, but I wanted to see you on
a matter of business which might help both of us, you see. Ah, I
thought--I thought mebbe you'd like to hear of it."
"I certainly should like to if it is to my advantage, Mr. Pringle,"
replied Mrs. Carruth, with a pleasant smile for the livery stable
keeper, who stood self-consciously twirling his cap.
"Yes, ma'am. I thought so, ma'am. Well it's this: Your stable, ma'am,
up at the old place, are you usin' it at all?"
"Not as a stable. It is more like a storehouse just now, for many
things saved from the fire are stored there."
"Could you put them somewhere else and rent the stable to me, ma'am?
I'm much put to it to find room for my boarding horses, and the
carriages; my place is not big, and I thought could I rent your stable
I'd keep most of my boarding horses up there; it's nearer to their
owners you see, ma'am."
Mrs. Carruth thought a moment before replying.
"I shall have to think over your proposal, Mr. Pringle. There is a
great deal of stuff stored in the stable and I am at a loss to know
what we could do with it. However, I will let you know in a day or two
if that will answer."
"Take your own time, ma'am. Take your own time. There's no hurry at
all. I'll call round about Thursday and you can let me know. I'd be
willing to pay twenty-five dollars a month for it, ma'am."
Pringle did not add that the step had been suggested to him by Hadyn
Stuyvesant, or that he had also set the figure.
When they were all gathered in the pleasant living-room that evening,
she spoke of the matter, ending with the question:
"But _where_ can we put all that furniture? _This_ house will not hold
another stick I'm afraid; we are crowded enough as it is."
For a few moments no one had a suggestion to offer, then Constance
cried:
"Mother couldn't we _sell_ a good many of the things? People do that
you know. The Boyntons did when they left Riveredge."
"Yes, they had a private sale and disposed of many things. They
advertised for weeks. I am afraid that would delay things too much."
"Why not have an auction then? _That_ moves quickly enough. The things
go or they _don't_ go, and that is the end of it."
"Oh, I should dislike to do that. So many of those things hold very
tender associations for me," hesitated Mrs. Carruth.
"Yet I am sure there are many things there which can't possibly have,
mother. That patent washing machine, for example, that is as big as a
dining-room table, and Mammy 'pintedly scorns,'" laughed Eleanor.
"And Jean's baby carriage. And the old cider-press, and that Noah's
ark of a sideboard that we never _can_ use," added Constance.
"And my express-wagon. I'll never play with _that_ again you know; I'm
far too old," concluded Jean with much self-importance.
"I dare say there are a hundred things there we will never use again,
and which would better be sold than kept. Come down to the place with
us to-morrow afternoon, Mumsey, and we will have a grand rummage,"
said Eleanor. And so the confab ended.
The following afternoon was given over to the undertaking, and as is
invariably the case, they wondered more than once why so many
perfectly useless articles had been so long and so carefully
cherished.
Among them, however, were many which held very dear memories for Mrs.
Carruth, and with which she was reluctant to part. Among these was a
small box of garden-tools, which had belonged to her husband, and with
which he had spent many happy hours at work among his beloved flower
beds. Also a reading lamp which they had bought when they were first
married, and beneath whose rays many tender dreams had taken form and
in many instances become realities. To be sure the lamp had not been
used for more than ten years, as it had long since ceased to be
regarded as either useful or ornamental, and neither it nor the garden
tools were worth a dollar.
But wives and mothers are strange creatures and recognize values which
no one else can see. The girls appreciated their mother's love for
every object which their father's hands had sanctified, and urged her
to put aside the things she so valued, arguing that the proceeds could
not possibly materially increase the sum they might receive for the
general collection. But Mrs. Carruth insisted that if one thing was
sold all should be, and that her personal feelings must not influence
or enter into the matter. So in time all was definitely arranged; the
auctioneer was engaged and the sale duly advertised for a certain
Saturday morning. No sooner were the posters in evidence than Miss
Jerusha Pike, likewise, became so. She swept in upon Mrs. Carruth one
morning when the latter was endeavoring to complete a much-needed
frock for Jean, as that young lady's elbows were as self-assertive as
herself, and had a trick of appearing in public when it was most
inconvenient to have them do so. Between letting down skirts and
putting in new sleeves Mrs. Carruth's hands were usually kept well
occupied.
"Morning, Mammy," piped Miss Pike's high-pitched voice, as Mammy
answered her ring at the front door. "What's the meaning of these
signs I see about town. You don't mean to tell me you are going to
sell _out_? I couldn't believe my own eyes, so I came right straight
here to find out. _Where_ is that dear, dear woman?"
"She up in her room busy wid some sewin'," stated Mammy, with
considerable emphasis upon the last word as a hint to the visitor.
"Well, tell her not to mind _me_; I'm an old friend, you know. I'll go
right up to her room; I wouldn't have her come down for the world."
"Hum! Yas'm," replied Mammy, moving slowly toward the stairs. Too
slowly thought Miss Pike, for, bouncing up from the reception-room
chair, upon which she had promptly seated herself, she hurried after
the retreating figure saying:
"Now don't you bother to go way up-stairs. I don't doubt you have a
hundred things to do this morning, and I've never been up-stairs in
this house, anyway. Go along out to your kitchen, Mammy, and I'll just
announce myself." And brushing by the astonished old woman she rushed
half way up the stairs before Mammy could recover herself. It was a
master coup de main, for well Miss Pike knew that she would never be
invited to ascend those stairs to the privacy of Mrs. Carruth's own
room. Mammy knew this also, and the good soul's face was a study as
she stared after her. Miss Pike disappeared around the curve of the
stairs calling as she ascended:
"It's only _me_, dear. Don't mind me in the least. Go right on with
your work. I'll be charmed to lend you a hand; I'm a master helper at
sewing." Mammy muttered:
"Well ef yo' aint de banginest han' at pokin' dat snipe nose o' yours
inter places whar 'taint no call ter be _I'd_ lak ter know who _is_.
I'se jist a good min' ter go slap bang atter yo' an' hustle yo' froo'
dat front door; I is fer a fac'."
Meanwhile, aroused from her occupation by the high-pitched voice, Mrs.
Carruth dropped her work and hurried into the hall. She could hardly
believe that this busy-body of the town had actually forced herself
upon her in this manner. She had often tried to do so, but as often
been thwarted in her attempts.
"Oh, _why did_ you get up to meet me? You shouldn't have done it, you
dear thing. I know how valuable every moment of your time is
now-a-days. Dear, dear, how times have changed, haven't they? Now go
right back to your room and resume your sewing and let me help while I
talk. I _felt I must_ come. Those awful signs have haunted me ever
since I first set my eyes upon them. _Don't_ tell me you are going to
sell anything! Surely you won't leave Riveredge? Why I said to Miss
Doolittle on my way here, well, if the Carruths have met with _more_
reverses and have got to sell out, _I'll_ clear give up. You haven't,
have you? But this house must be an awful expense, ain't it? How much
does Hadyn Stuyvesant ask you for it anyway? I'll bet he isn't
_giving_ it away. His mother was rather near, you know, and I dare say
he takes after her. _Do_ you pay as much as fifty a month for it? I
said to Miss Doolittle I bet anything you didn't get it a cent less.
Now do you? It's all between ourselves; you know I wouldn't breathe it
to a soul for worlds."
If you have ever suddenly had a great wave lift you from your feet,
toss you thither and yonder for a moment, and then land you high and
dry upon the beach when you have believed yourself to be enjoying a
delightful little dip in an apparently calm ocean, you will have some
idea of how Mrs. Carruth felt as this tornado of a woman caught her by
her arm, hurried her back into her quiet, peaceful bedroom, forced her
into her chair, and picking up her work laid it upon her lap, at the
same time making a dive for an unfinished sleeve, as she continued the
volley.
"Oh, I see just _exactly_ what you're doing. I can be the greatest
help to you. Go right on and don't give this a thought. I've been
obliged to do so much piecing and patching for the family that I'm
almost able to patch _shoes_. Now _what_ did you say Haydn Stuyvesant
charged you for this house?"
The sharp eyes were bent upon the sleeve.
"I don't think I said, Miss Pike. And, thank you, it is not necessary
to put a patch upon the elbow of that sleeve as you are preparing to
do; I have already made an entire new one. As to our leaving Riveredge
I am sorry you have given yourself so much concern about it. When we
decide to do so I dare say _you_ will be the first to learn of our
intention. Yes, the auction is to take place at our stable as the
announcement states. You learned all the particulars regarding it from
the bills, I am sure. If you are interested you may find time to be
present that morning. And now, since I am strongly averse to receiving
even my most intimate friends in a littered-up room I will ask you to
return to the reception room with me," and rising from her chair this
quiet, unruffled being moved toward the door.
"But your work, my dear. Your work! You can't afford to let me
interrupt it, I'm afraid. Your time must be so precious."
"It seems to have been interrupted already, does it not? Sometimes we
would rather sacrifice our time than our temper, don't you think so?"
and a quizzical smile crept over Mrs. Carruth's face.
"Well, now, I hate to have you make company of me. I really do. I
thought I'd just run in for a little neighborly chat and I seem to
have put a stop to everything. Dear me, I didn't think you'd mind _me_
a mite. Are you going to sell this set of furniture? 'Taint so very
much worn, is it? Only the edges are a little mite frayed. Some people
mightn't notice it, but my eyesight's exceptional. Well, do tell me
_what's_ goin'."
As though fate had taken upon herself the responsibility of answering
that question, the door-bell rang at the instant and when it was
answered by Mammy, Mrs. Eleanor Carruth stalked into the hall. Mrs.
Carruth rose to greet her. _Miss Pike rose to go._ If there was one
person in this world of whom Jerusha Pike stood in wholesome awe it
was Mrs. Eleanor Carruth, for the latter lady had absolutely no use
for the former, and let her understand it. Madam Carruth, as she was
often called, shook her niece's hand, looked at her keenly for a
moment and then said:
"My stars, Jenny, what ails you? You look as though you'd been blown
about by a whirlwind. Oh, how do _you_ do, Miss Pike. Just going?
You're under too high pressure, Jenny. We must ease it up a little, I
guess. Good-bye, Miss Pike. My niece has always been considered a most
amiable woman, hasn't she? I think she hasn't backbone enough at
times. That is the reason I happen along unexpectedly to lend her
some. Fine day, isn't it?"
Two minutes later Miss Pike was in close confab with her friend Miss
Doolittle.
Aunt Eleanor was up in her niece's room putting in the neglected
sleeve and saying:
"If _I'd_ been in that front hall I'll guarantee she would never have
clomb those stairs. Now tell me all about this auction."