A Pitched Battle
It was an odd household under Holcroft's roof on the evening of the
Sunday we have described. The farmer, in a sense, had "taken
sanctuary" in his own room, that he might escape the maneuvering wiles
of his tormenting housekeeper. If she would content herself with
general topics he would try to endure her foolish, high-flown talk
until the three months expired; but that she should speedily and openly
take the initiative in matrimonial designs was proof of such an
unbalanced mind that he was filled with nervous dread. "Hanged if one
can tell what such a silly, hairbrained woman will do next!" he
thought, as he brooded by the fire. "Sunday or no Sunday, I feel as if
I'd like to take my horsewhip and give Lemuel Weeks a piece of my mind."
Such musings did not promise well for Mrs. Mumpson, scheming in the
parlor below; but, as we have seen, she had the faculty of arranging
all future events to her mind. That matters had not turned out in the
past as she had expected, counted for nothing. She was one who could
not be taught, even by experience. The most insignificant thing in
Holcroft's dwelling had not escaped her scrutiny and pretty accurate
guess as to value, yet she could not see or understand the intolerable
disgust and irritation which her ridiculous conduct excited. In a weak
mind egotism and selfishness, beyond a certain point, pass into
practical insanity. All sense of delicacy, of the fitness of things,
is lost; even the power to consider the rights and feelings of others
is wanting. Unlike poor Holcroft, Mrs. Mumpson had few misgivings in
regard to coming years. As she rocked unceasingly before the parlor
fire, she arranged everything in regard to his future as well as her
own.
Jane, quite forgotten, was oppressed with a miserable presentiment of
evil. Her pinched but intense little mind was concentrated on two
facts--Holcroft's anger and her mother's lack of sense. From such
premises it did not take her long to reason out but one
conclusion--"visitin' again;" and this was the summing up of all evils.
Now and then a tear would force its way out of one of her little eyes,
but otherwise she kept her troubles to herself.
Mrs. Wiggins was the only complacent personage in the house, and she
unbent with a garrulous affability to Jane, which could be accounted
for in but one way--Holcroft had forgotten about his cider barrel,
thereby unconsciously giving her the chance to sample its contents
freely. She was now smoking her pipe with much content, and indulging
in pleasing reminiscences which the facts of her life scarcely
warranted.
"Ven hi vas as leetle a gal as ye are," she began, and then she related
experiences quite devoid of the simplicity and innocence of childhood.
The girl soon forgot her fears and listened with avidity until the old
dame's face grew heavier, if possible, with sleep, and she stumbled off
to bed.
Having no wish to see or speak to her mother again, the child blew out
the candle and stole silently up the stairway. At last Mrs. Mumpson
took her light and went noisily around, seeing to the fastenings of
doors and windows. "I know he is listening to every sound from me, and
he shall learn what a caretaker I am," she murmured softly.
Once out of doors in the morning, with his foot on the native heath of
his farm, Holcroft's hopefulness and courage always returned. He was
half angry with himself at his nervous irritation of the evening
before. "If she becomes so cranky that I can't stand her, I'll pay the
three months' wages and clear her out," he had concluded, and he went
about his morning work with a grim purpose to submit to very little
nonsense.
Cider is akin to vinegar, and Mrs. Wiggins' liberal potations of the
evening before had evidently imparted a marked acidity to her temper.
She laid hold of the kitchen utensils as if she had a spite against
them, and when Jane, confiding in her friendliness shown so recently,
came down to assist, she was chased out of doors with language we
forbear to repeat. Mrs. Mumpson, therefore, had no intimation of the
low state of the barometer in the region of the kitchen. "I have taken
time to think deeply and calmly," she murmured. "The proper course has
been made clear to me. He is somewhat uncouth; he is silent and unable
to express his thoughts and emotions--in brief, undeveloped; he is
awfully irreligious. Moth and rust are busy in this house; much that
would be so useful is going to waste. He must learn to look upon me as
the developer, the caretaker, a patient and healthful embodiment of
female influence. I will now begin actively my mission of making him
an ornerment to society. That mountainous Mrs. Viggins must be
replaced by a deferential girl who will naturally look up to me. How
can I be a true caretaker--how can I bring repose and refinement to
this dwelling with two hundred pounds of female impudence in my way?
Mr. Holcroft shall see that Mrs. Viggins is an unseemly and jarring
discord in our home," and she brought the rocking chair from the parlor
to the kitchen, with a serene and lofty air. Jane hovered near the
window, watching.
At first, there was an ominous silence in respect to words. Portentous
sounds increased, however, for Mrs. Wiggins strode about with martial
tread, making the boards creak and the dishes clatter, while her red
eyes shot lurid and sanguinary gleams. She would seize a dipper as if
it were a foe, slamming it upon the table again as if striking an
enemy. Under her vigorous manipulation, kettles and pans resounded
with reports like firearms.
Mrs. Mumpson was evidently perturbed; her calm superiority was
forsaking her; every moment she rocked faster--a sure indication that
she was not at peace. At last she said, with great dignity: "Mrs.
Viggins, I must request you to perform your tasks with less clamor. My
nerves are not equal to this peculiar way of taking up and laying down
things."
"Vell, jes' ye vait a minute, han hi'll show ye 'ow hi kin take hup
things han put 'em down hag'in hout o' my vay," and before Mrs. Mumpson
could interfere, she found herself lifted, chair and all bodily, and
carried to the parlor. Between trepidation and anger, she could only
gasp during the transit, and when left in the middle of the parlor
floor she looked around in utter bewilderment.
It so happened that Holcroft, on his way from the barn, had seen Jane
looking in at the window, and, suspecting something amiss, had arrived
just in time for the spectacle. Convulsed with laughter, he returned
hastily to the barn; while Jane expressed her feelings, whatever they
were, by executing something like a hornpipe before the window.
Mrs. Mumpson, however, was not vanquished. She had only made a
compulsory retreat from the scene of hostilities; and, after rallying
her shattered faculties, advanced again with the chair. "How dared you,
you disreputerble female?" she began.
Mrs. Wiggins turned slowly and ominously upon her. "Ye call me a
disrupterbul female hag'in, han ye vont find hit 'ealthy."
Mrs. Mumpson prudently backed toward the door before delivering her
return fire.
"Woman!" she cried, "are you out of your mind? Don't you know I'm
housekeeper here, and that it's my duty to superintend you and your
work?"
"Vell, then, hi'll double ye hup hand put ye hon the shelf hof the
dresser han' lock the glass door hon ye. From hup there ye kin see all
that's goin' hon and sup'intend to yer 'eart's content," and she
started for her superior officer.
Mrs. Mumpson backed so precipitately with her chair that it struck
against the door case, and she sat down hard. Seeing that Mrs. Wiggins
was almost upon her, she darted back into the parlor, leaving the chair
as a trophy in the hands of her enemy. Mrs. Wiggins was somewhat
appeased by this second triumph, and with the hope of adding gall and
bitterness to Mrs. Mumpson's defeat, she took the chair to her rival's
favorite rocking place, lighted her pipe, and sat down in grim
complacency. Mrs. Mumpson warily approached to recover a support
which, from long habit, had become moral as well as physical, and her
indignation knew no bounds when she saw it creaking under the weight of
her foe. It must be admitted, however, that her ire was not so great
that she did not retain the "better part of valor," for she stepped
back, unlocked the front door, and set it ajar. On returning, she
opened with a volubility that awed even Mrs. Wiggins for a moment. "You
miserable, mountainous pauper; you interloper; you unrefined,
irresponserble, unregenerate female, do you know what you have done in
thus outraging ME? I'm a respecterble woman, respecterbly connected.
I'm here in a responserble station. When Mr. Holcroft appears he'll
drive you from the dwelling which you vulgarize. Your presence makes
this apartment a den. You are a wild beast--"
"Hi'm a vile beastes, ham hi?" cried Mrs. Wiggins, at last stung into
action, and she threw her lighted pipe at the open mouth that was
discharging high-sounding epithets by the score.
It struck the lintel over the widow's head, was shattered, and sent
down upon her a shower of villainously smelling sparks. Mrs. Mumpson
shrieked and sought frantically to keep her calico wrapper from taking
fire. Meanwhile, Mrs. Wiggins rose and took a step or two that she
might assist should there be any positive danger, for she had not yet
reached a point of malignity which would lead her to witness calmly an
auto-da-fe. This was Jane's opportunity. Mrs. Wiggins had alienated
this small and hitherto friendly power, and now, with a returning
impulse of loyalty, it took sides with the weaker party. The kitchen
door was on a crack; the child pushed it noiselessly open, darted
around behind the stove, and withdrew the rocking chair.
Mrs. Wiggins' brief anxiety and preoccupation passed, and she stepped
backward again to sit down. She did sit down, but with such terrific
force that the stove and nearly everything else in the room threatened
to fall with her. She sat helplessly for a bewildered moment, while
Jane, with the chair, danced before her exclaiming, tauntingly, "That's
for chasing me out as if I was a cat!"
"Noo hi'll chase ye both hout," cried the ireful Wiggins, scrambling to
her feet. She made good her threat, for Holcroft, a moment later, saw
mother and daughter, the latter carrying the chair, rushing from the
front door, and Mrs. Wiggins, armed with a great wooden spoon, waddling
after them, her objurgations mingling with Mrs. Mumpson's shrieks and
Jane's shrill laughter. The widow caught a glimpse of him standing in
the barn door, and, as if borne by the wind, she flew toward him,
crying, "He shall be my protector!"
He barely had time to whisk through a side door and close it after him.
The widow's impetuous desire to pant out the story of her wrongs
carried her into the midst of the barnyard, where she was speedily
confronted by an unruly young heifer that could scarcely be blamed for
hostility to such a wild-looking object.
The animal shook its head threateningly as it advanced. Again the
widow's shrieks resounded. This time Holcroft was about to come to the
rescue, when the beleaguered woman made a dash for the top of the
nearest fence, reminding her amused looker-on of the night of her
arrival when she had perched like some strange sort of bird on the
wagon wheel.
Seeing that she was abundantly able to escape alone, the farmer
remained in concealment. Although disgusted and angry at the scenes
taking place, he was scarcely able to restrain roars of laughter.
Perched upon the fence, the widow called piteously for him to lift her
down, but he was not to be caught by any such device. At last, giving
up hope and still threatened by the heifer, she went over on the other
side. Knowing that she must make a detour before reaching the
dwelling, Holcroft went thither rapidly with the purpose of restoring
order at once. "Jane," he said sternly, "take that chair to the parlor
and leave it there. Let there be no more such nonsense."
At his approach, Mrs. Wiggins had retreated sullenly to the kitchen.
"Come," he ordered good-naturedly, "hasten breakfast and let there be
no more quarreling."
"Hif hi vas left to do me work hin peace--" she began.
"Well, you shall do it in peace."
At this moment Mrs. Mumpson came tearing in, quite oblivious of the
fact that she had left a goodly part of her calico skirt on a nail of
the fence. She was rushing toward Holcroft, when he said sternly, and
with a repellent gesture, "Stop and listen to me. If there's any more
of this quarreling like cats and dogs in my house, I'll send for the
constable and have you all arrested. If you are not all utterly
demented and hopeless fools, you will know that you came here to do my
work, and nothing else." Then catching a glimpse of Mrs. Mumpson's
dress, and fearing he should laugh outright, he turned abruptly on his
heel and went to his room, where he was in a divided state between
irrepressible mirth and vexation.
Mrs. Mumpson also fled to her room. She felt that the proper course
for her at this juncture was a fit of violent hysterics; but a prompt
douche from the water pitcher, administered by the unsympathetic Jane,
effectually checked the first symptoms. "Was ever a respecterble
woman--"
"You aint respectable," interrupted the girl, as she departed. "You
look like a scarecrow. 'Fi's you I'd begin to show some sense now."