A LITTLE FAMILY AFFAIR.
While the heads of the Chapman family were engaged in their great work
of reform, and Hanz Toodleburg, as the head of the Dutch settlers, was
preparing to resist all their efforts, Mattie Chapman and young Tite
were engaging in a matter of a very different nature. A little flame of
love had begun to burn in their youthful hearts, and was giving out such
manifestations of tenderness. I have noticed that when once the little
under-current of love begins to ebb and flow in young and innocent
hearts, it will break over whatever obstacles you put in its way, and
rarely stops until it has reached that haven of happiness called
matrimony. The parents of these young people seemed to have been cast in
opposite moulds, mentally and physically. Their modes of thought, their
expectations, and their manner of living differed entirely. Hanz
Toodleburg was simple-minded, honest, contented with his lot in the
world, smoked his pipe, and lived in peace with his neighbors. And these
he esteemed the greatest blessings a man could enjoy. Chapman was
restless, designing, ambitious of wealth, and ready always to quarrel
with those who did not fall in with his opinions. Indeed, he never
seemed happier than when he had a quarrel on hand; and he had the rare
tact of turning a quarrel into profit.
It was very different with the young people. In their innocent hearts
the fires of love had been kindled, and they were burning brighter and
brighter every day. The thought that they should incur opposition from
their parents never entered their minds. They would meet together of a
Sunday afternoon, and walk by the river side. They would meet and talk
over the gate as Tite passed and re-passed Chapman's house. And Mattie
was sure to meet him at the gate as he passed on his way to New York.
And then there would be an affectionate good-bye, and Mattie would watch
him until he had disappeared beyond the hill. The ordinary observer
would have seen in Tite's blushes and confused manner, whenever he met
Mattie, how the current of his love was setting. And when he returned at
the end of the week there was something for Mattie, some little token of
his affection; a proof that he had cherished her in his thoughts while
absent.
This little love affair did not fail to attract the attention of the
Chapman family. Nor was honest Hanz Toodleburg indifferent to what was
going on. Indeed, the gossips at the inn had joked Hanz about it,
hinting at a future connection of the two families. To all of which Hanz
would reply that Tite was only a boy yet, and had a good deal of other
kinds of business to do before thinking of what sort of a wife he
wanted. "If ta torter ish like ta fader, sho quarrelsome, t'man what
gets her for a vife don't lives in t'house mit her," Hanz would always
conclude.
Young as Tite was, he began to look on the matter seriously. The whaling
voyage was still exciting his ambition, however, and he began to enquire
of every one he thought likely to know, when the people of Hudson would
send their first ship to the South Sea. Then the thought of leaving
Mattie would depress his spirits, and for a time shake his resolution.
The trouble with him at first was how he could separate from his
parents; now his love for Mattie was added to his obstacles.
Chapman had not failed to notice this little affair of the affections
between the young people. He had noticed, also, that it had attracted
the attention of his wife. But neither had spoken of it. In short,
Chapman was anxious to have his wife refer to it first, to see in what
light she viewed it. And Mrs. Chapman was equally anxious to have her
dear husband, as she called him, express an opinion on the subject
before she gave one. He had once or twice noticed that when the young
people were at the gate she would call Mattie and tell her it was time
to come in; that she ought not to stay there so long talking to a
sailor-boy. Mattie would yield obedience with blushes and an air of
reluctance, the meaning of which her mother properly understood.
The truth of the matter was that the affair had engaged Chapman's
thoughts for some time; and it suddenly occurred to him that the whole
thing might be turned to profit. Toodleburg was a man of some
consequence among the people; they had great confidence in his
integrity, and implicitly believed him possessed of a secret that would
make the fortune of every man in Nyack. He had been evolving that secret
in his mind for some time, and if he could in any way get the confidence
of Hanz, and obtain the secret, or allow himself to be used in
connection with it, he could make money enough to live like a lord in
New York. And that was exactly what Mrs. Chapman wanted. The good woman,
however, had been so much engaged of late getting the new church on its
legs, and negotiating for the services of the Reverend Warren Holbrook,
of Dogtown, Massachusetts, who was to spread the doctrines of
transcendentalism, and a variety of other isms, before the people, and
turn Nyack out of doors, religiously speaking, that she felt that she
had not performed her whole duty towards Mattie.
There had been a religious tea-party at Chapman's house, where the
affair of the new church had been talked over, and the opening day
arranged. Mrs. Chapman was in her best dress, with a profusion of
ribbons streaming down her back, and a puffy cap on her head. She had
received a letter from the Reverend Warren Holbrook, accepting the offer
of three hundred dollars a year and board and washing, and saying, that
in addition to transcendentalism, he would advocate the equality of the
great human family. If these poor, benighted Dutch people who lived
about Nyack would only be regenerated and made progressive. Mrs. Chapman
found great consolation in this letter, and sat down to read it to her
dear husband, who had moved up nearer to the lamp and opened the last
great-work on the new doctrine.
When she had finished reading it she paused for a moment, and then
spoke. "Have you noticed, my dear," she enquired, and again hesitating,
"what has been going on between our Mattie--?" Again she hesitated.
Expecting what was coming, Chapman interposed by saying, "Don't be
afraid to speak, my darling; I know what you mean."
"I meant," resumed Mrs. Chapman, blushing and looking very serious, "I
meant, have you noticed the attention that sailor-boy--(young Toodlebug
did you call him?) horrors! what a name--was paying to our Mattie?"
"Burg, my dear, not bug," rejoined Chapman.
"People are beginning to talk about it, and they say such things!" The
good woman blushed, and assumed an air of great seriousness. "The young
man may be well enough, but then the Toodlebugs are only a common Dutch
family."
"Toodleburgs, my dear, not bugs. The name makes a great difference with
some people," rejoined Chapman, correctively. "Very natural, my dear,
very natural. The most natural thing in the world for young people to
make love. And the most natural thing in the world is that people should
talk about it. It is according to the principles of true philosophy. You
must not be alarmed, my dear, when you see young people make love. Harm
rarely comes of it, and it generally ends in a very small affair."
"Yes, my dear," replied the good woman, "and experience has proved to me
that it sometimes ends in a very large affair. A little flirtation
between young people--"
"Should be encouraged, my darling," interrupted Chapman.
"I was going to say," she continued, "was not objectionable. But when
looks come to be serious, the equality of things should be enquired
into. Time's a coming when we may be rich, and live in New York, and be
somebody, and move with the best of people. I looks forward to it, my
dear; and I am sure the enterprises we have on hand will be a success.
It will never do to marry our daughter to a sailor-boy, to say nothing
of connecting ourselves to a common Dutch family--"
"You talk like a philosopher, my darling; but I have known worse things
done, and great results flow from them. That young man promises well,
and as for old Hanz, he is a man of more importance than you think.
Some of these Dutch people are slow, but solid," rejoined Chapman,
shutting up the book. "I have an object in view, and this little,
innocent flirtation may help to improve it. At least, it can do no
harm."
"It is not good to let anything go on that might lead to harm," resumed
the good woman. "Mattie has good looks, and I intend that she shall have
a polished education, and shine in society some day. You have always
agreed with me, my dear, that it was good to look forward. How could
Mattie shine in society with such a husband, and such a name? The very
name of Toodlebug would sink us. Yes, my dear, sink us right down--"
"Wrong again, my dear; Tutle-burg. You may put an _e_ in it instead of
an _r_, if you please. That's where the difference is," interrupted
Chapman.
"I don't care, my dear; these polite people would turn up their noses,
and get it Too-dle-bug. They are very nice on names. If the young man
should get up in the world and keep a carriage, people would say 'there
goes Too-dle-bug's carriage--oh! what a name. What low people they must
have been.' If they should own a house in the fashionable part of the
city. We should both look forward to that, you know. Would'nt it be a
horrid name to read on the door? Toodlebug!"
"Tutle-burg, my dear; there's a big difference," interposed Mr. Chapman.
"As you says; but nice people would not pronounce it except with a bug,"
continued the good woman, looking discomfitted. "You have given so much
time to progress and reforming the world, that you don't understand
these matters as well as I do. I am sure there would be blushes and
smiles enough over such a name. Think of our daughter being Mrs.
Toodlebug, (I pronounce it with a b-u-g, you see,) and inviting nice
people to her reception. There would be people enough at that reception
to make light of the name. Yes, Mr. Chapman, you might as well have her
married to a Mr. Straddlebug. It's so very vulgar, my dear."
"As to that," replied Chapman, "the world is a great vulgarity, and only
puts on politeness for appearance sake. The young man might have his
name changed, or he might add something to it to soften it. How would
you like Von Toodleburg, my dear?"
"Never can be softened; never! The Von would do something to lift a
family up into respectability. And then, socially speaking, there was
such a wide difference between them distinguished Dutch families and
them common Dutch families."
"What would you have me do about it, darling?" enquired Chapman,
submissively.
"Oppose it, my dear!" replied Mrs. Chapman, bowing, and becoming
earnest. "Oppose it. You know how to oppose everything, and surely you
can oppose this."
This reply troubled Chapman considerably. He had for once found
something he would rather encourage than oppose. But he had a motive for
his action, as will be seen hereafter.