CHAPTER X.

MR. AND MRS. CHAPMAN DISAGREE FOR THE FIRST TIME.

A bright light burned in Chapman's parlor that night, and the ponderous

Mrs. Chapman sat nursing her dignity in a great new rocking-chair. Her

little pale-faced husband, with keen eyes, and his hair somewhat longer

than usual, sat beside the lamp on the round table pouring over a book.

There was an air of improvement about the parlor, an evidence, indeed,

that the Chapmans had renounced their Dogtown habits, and were bent on

getting up in the world. New carpets, new mirrors, new furniture, and

window-curtains such as had not been seen in Nyack before, had been got

from New York. You must make your style of living, Mrs. Chapman said,

keep pace with the progress of the family. And it would not do to let

those new, rich, and stylish people who were coming up from New York get

ahead of you in the way of elegance.

Mrs. Chapman no longer condescended to prepare the sausage meat and

pumpkin pies; in a word, to do the work of her own kitchen. She could

afford, she said, to keep two "helps," a cook and a chambermaid, to take

it easy and put on the lady, and to give evening parties that quite

outdid in the way of nice little suppers anything their neighbors could

give. There was, however, a number of people in Nyack who shook their

heads at the pretensions of the Chapmans; said they were putting on too

many airs, and made no response to Mrs. Chapman's invitations. Others,

when a little scandal was necessary to keep up the interest of an

evening, would insinuate that they had "originally" been very common and

vulgar people. But now, like most New England people of that class, they

were not only trying to force their opinions down other and honester

people's throats, but had a way of meddling with business that did'nt

concern them, and making themselves disagreeable generally. When

Holbrook disappeared in disgrace, there were persons malicious enough to

say that the Chapmans had better mend their own morals before they went

to patching other people's up.

Mrs. Chapman could dress of an evening in silk, wear kid gloves that

came from France, and had plenty of real French lace on her caps. Few

persons in Nyack at that day could do such things and pass for honest

people.

"My dear," said Mrs. Chapman, addressing herself to her small, but

intellectually great, Mr. Chapman; "my dear." She paused for a moment,

as her face assumed an air of seriousness. "We must turn our backs

entirely on Dogtown. Dogtown won't do to elevate the family on. We never

can rise in the world with Dogtown on our shoulders. And if we would

live down that scandal brought on us by Holbrook, (an indiscretion, I

think you called it,) we must keep our heads up." She paused, shook her

head in pity, and raised her fat, waxy hands. "I can't sleep of nights,

thinking of it. Lays a body's feelings out terribly. But he was so

wonderfully clever." Her face brightened up as she said this.

"Wonderfully clever," she interpolated. "It was his mental greatness I

always subsided to and admired. Clever people have their weaknesses as

well as people what are not as clever. I sometimes thought you had

yours, my dear--"

"My dear!" interrupted Chapman, with an air of surprise, "what do you

mean? Hav'nt I been a finished husband, and a loving father?"

"You are just as good, my dear, as husbands can be made." Mrs. Chapman

said this condescendingly, and with an air of admiration truly grand.

"But then, you know," she said, more mildly, "there was that handsome

widow you used to be so polite to, my dear. You know I detected her

waving a handkerchief once. Then you said it was one you left at the

house; and so I never thought of it again."

"I never let the past trouble me, my dear, never. A man of forethought,

of progressive ideas, looks always ahead, and by his acts proves that he

is up square with the spirit of the age. I have a new conception. Yes,

my dear, a new conception. Nothing figurative about it, my dear. I have

a new and grand conception, which I have been evolving in my mind for

some time, and now I am getting it into a scheme which I am sure will be

profitable."

"My dear husband," said Mrs. Chapman, in a strain of intense excitement,

"do let us know what it is."

"Of great importance to us both," he replied, with great seriousness, as

he brushed his long black hair back over his parchment-like forehead.

"I'll be bound it refers to what took place to-day between our Mattie

and that young sailor. I saw it all; and you saw it all, too, my dear,

and you never said a word. We never can agree on that matter, my dear,

never. On everything else we can. You can't mistake what two young

people mean when they go to waving handkerchiefs, and picking wild

flowers in the woods. This little love matter must be stopped before it

gets into a big one. Yes, it must, my dear. So fine a young woman as

our daughter condescending to marry a sailor! As I said before, my dear,

you know I have had experience in these matters--"

"In other matters, you know, Mrs. Chapman, I have always yielded to

you--"

"And I have always yielded to you," resumed the anxious woman, "and

never considered it a condescension. But in this I must have my own

way." And Mrs. Chapman got up and walked to a window overlooking the

Tappan Zee. The night was bright and starlight, and shadows were

flitting and dancing over the smooth waters. The picture of the ship,

with Tite waving Mattie an adieu from the forecastle, haunted her mind.

"If that ship goes to the bottom of the sea, not a tear shall I

shed--not a tear!" resumed the speaker, in an agitated tone. "And I have

as tender a heart as anybody. But we must elevate the family. That's

laudable, you know. Nice people are very particular about these things.

And you know how much there is in names. Think of elevating the family

by taking a man by the name of Toodlebug into it! Think of our going to

live in New York with such a name. Everybody would say Toodlebug!

Toodlebug! and nobody would come to our daughter's parties." The good

woman ran on in this way for several minutes, compelling her dear

Chapman to keep the peace. At length she settled back into her rocking

chair, and there was a pause.

"My dear," said Chapman, meekly, "I have always held that a man could

commit no greater folly than that of quarrelling with a woman on a

question of family pride. In such a contest the man is sure to get the

worst of it. I say this understandingly, my dear." And Chapman shut up

his book, and looked up into his wife's face, as if to watch the changes

of her countenance.

"We may agree on that matter yet, my dear. A man is never so low by

birth (I mean in this country, at least,) but that he may rise to the

highest office of honor and trust--"

"Not with such a name as Toodlebug--never!" Mrs. Chapman interrupted,

curtly.

"That's a mistake, my dear. Names never distinguished people. A man's

merit and money are the things that do it. This is a free country. A

woman may have as many quarrels as she pleases, and have her own way in

things generally. Nothing personal, my dear.

"But to go back to what I was pondering over when you interrupted me. A

family never gets through the world easy without a solid basis; and I

was thinking how to give a solid basis to our little family. Marrying is

all well enough in its way; but the woman who marries a man without a

solid basis, either in money or character, marries into misery. That's

my philosophy--"

"Exactly!" interrupted Mrs. Chapman, with a stately nod of the head, and

rubbing her fat hands. "Now you talk as I like to hear you. There's no

getting up in the world without money."

"I intended to make that point in my logic, and was coming to it, my

dear. You see, we have got the building and everything in it, all our

own. And we have got two or three thousand dollars, all put away for a

wet day. Property all honorably made. Heaven knows I would not have a

dollar that was not. That, my dear, is a good beginning for a good

basis. We must keep adding to it; keep the tide flowing in the channel

of success. I was thinking, my dear, of inventing a new religion."

"My dear!" exclaimed Mrs. Chapman, with an air of astonishment, "what an

inventive head you have got. But you have said so often that there was

too much religion in the world, and not enough of true goodness."

"Of the old kind, I meant, my dear;" resumed the little man. "What I

mean is to invent a religion that is new and novel, has something broad

and attractive in it, and that people of a curious turn of mind would

pay for enjoying. That's the kind of religion that pays, you see. And if

we could put the church on its feet again with something of that kind.

It's the propensity people have to go galloping after new things in

religion that we must study and turn to our advantage if we would be

prosperous." The little man fretted his fingers nervously through his

unkept hair, and his face assumed an air of great seriousness.

"How, my dear," enquired Mrs. Chapman, "could you put the church on its

feet with such a load of scandal on its back? Could'nt you invent

something else that would be novel and profitable?"

"There's where my new conception was coming in. That's the point I was

considering when you interrupted me with Mattie's love affair," Chapman

replied, looking more serious than ever.

"It struck me that we might do something profitable by getting up a

company for the discovery of Kidd's treasure. 'The Great Kidd Discovery

Company' would be a good name, my dear. You must always give a company a

good name. Then you must manage it with tact and prudence. A prodigious

enterprise, my dear. These simple-minded and honest Dutch people would

fall into it like a flock of sheep. They honestly believe Kidd was a

bold pirate, who amassed a great fortune by plundering towns on the

Spanish Main. That, having more gold and silver than he could invest to

advantage, he buried it on the bank of the river, a few leagues above

this place, where he entered into an agreement with the devil to stand

guard over it until he returned. They believe, also, that Hanz

Toodleburg, whose father knew Kidd well, and perhaps had something to do

with his adventures, is the only man now living who possesses the secret

of where that treasure is buried."

The Von Toodleburgs; Or, The History of a Very Distinguished Family · 第 9 / 34 章