"Well, young man, what's wanted?"
"I--I--want to see ANN BRUMMET," said ARCHIBALD.
"Oh, you _do_, do you?" rejoined Mrs. BACKUP, regally; "and _who_, may I
ask, is ANN BRUMMET?"
"A young lady that I was--a--to meet here," replied ARCHIBALD, timidly.
Mrs. BACKUP immediately organized a virtuous tableau, and glared at him
majestically.
"A young lady you was to _meet_ here. _In_-deed. And do you think, young
man, that _my_ house is a place where young chaps can go a-roystorin'
and a-gallivinatin' about, and a meetin' young women?"
"But I don't want to go oysterin'," said ARCHIBALD, "and I don't know
how to galvinate. I only want to tell her something."
"Oh, to _tell_ her something, is it? Well, I'd have _no_ objections,
young man, if you _said_ she was your wife. _Then_ you'd have a right,
but not now, for my cha-_rac_ter is precious to me, young man."
"But she ain't my wife," said ARCHIBALD; "I only--kind of know her, you
see."
"Drat the man," said Mrs. BACKUP to herself; "he's a born fool that
can't take a hint like that. TEDDY!" she cried to a seedy-looking,
pimply man, who was sucking a forlorn-looking pipe on the back-door
step, "you're wanted." She whispered a few words in his ear, and went
up-stairs.
TEDDY MCSLUSH was the General Utility man of the Half-Way House. Born
down East, of an Irish father and Scotch mother, he was eminently
calculated to live by his wits. His natural talents were numerous and
sparkling. He could tell more lies without notes than any man in the
State, or make a beautiful prayer, all in the way of business. When a
runaway couple were married at the Half-Way House, he would not only
give the bride away in a voice broken by emotion, but he would bless the
bridegroom with tears in his eyes, and he would do all this at the
lowest market price. And every Sunday he dressed in a black suit and
sung in the choir, and patted the little children on the head, and was
generally respected.
He approached ARCHIBALD, and poked him in the ribs, facetiously.
"Ah!" he ejaculated; "and it's a cryin' shame, so it is, that a fine lad
like yerself should be took with sich a complaint. It's modeshty what
ails ye, man. And wasn't it Mester JOHN SHAKESPEER himself, him as writ
the illegant versis, Lord luv his ashis, as says to me only jist afore
his breath soured on him, 'TEDDY,' says he, wid much feelin', 'TEDDY,
modeshty is a fine thing in a woman,' says he, 'but it's death to a man.
Promise me now,' says he, 'for I feel as this clay is a coolin'
fast--promise me, TEDDY, as you'll never hev nothink to do with it--no,
not never, my boy.' I promised him, and Hevins knows as I've kep' my
word. But, Lord alive, I'm a keepin' you all the time from yer own dear
wife, as is a dyin' to see you--and a sweet dear it is."
He ushered ARCHIBALD into the Ladies' Parlor, closed the door, and
applied his ear to the key-hole, with an air of the most respectful
attention.
According to TEDDY'S way of thinking, ANN was not hankering for
ARCHIBALD'S society.
"What do you want _here_?" said she, sharply.
"Oh, don't speak cross to me, Miss BRUMMET," said he, looking timidly
around. Then he put his finger on his lip, and shook his head
energetically.
"I know all about it, you see," said he; "JEFF told me. Oh my! wasn't I
struck up, though? But I'll never tell. _He_ couldn't come, you see. His
mother sent for him, and--"
"You lie," she broke in fiercely; "it's a put up job between you two.
But it won't do; do you _hear_? It _won't do_."
"Oh, don't look at me _that_ way," said ARCHIBALD, backing toward the
door; "I want to go home."
"I'd like to see you go home," she replied, placing her back against the
door. "You must think I'm a fool, to let you off as easy as that. You've
got to sit up with me this evening, anyhow."
"But what would folks say?" stammered ARCHIBALD. "Oh, think of my
reputation, Miss BRUMMET, and let me go."
"Your reputation!" she sneered. "Humbug! Men don't have any reputation,
except when they steal a woman's. Come," she added, in a more
conciliatory tone, "we'll have some supper, and then we'll have a game
of euchre."
"Euchre! Oh, don't ask me to play euchre," said he; "I'm so mixed up,
Miss BRUMMET, I couldn't tell the King of Ten-spots from the Ace of
Jacks. Oh, won't BELINDA grab hold of my hair when she hears of this!"
"Yes, she'll pull it till she makes her ARCHIE-_bald_," said ANN,
laughing.
ARCHIBALD sat down, and looked at her in a supplicating manner.
"I'll do anything you say," said he, "if you please won't get off any
more puns. It's awful. I knew a fellow once who had it chronic. He
doubled every word that he could lay his tongue to. When he was going to
a party, he'd take the dictionary and pick out a lot of words that could
be twisted, and set 'em down and study on 'em, so he could be ready with
a lot of puns, and when he got 'em off folks would laugh, but all the
time they'd wish he'd died young. And that's the way he'd go on. He
finally drove his mother into a consumption, and at her funeral, instead
of taking on as he ought to, he only just looked at the body, and said,
'Well, that's the worst _coffin-fit_ the old lady ever had.' And then he
turned round and began to get off puns on the mourners. Wasn't it
dreadful?--But what's that?"
Somebody was knocking at the door.
"What's wanted?" said ANN.
"It's your minister as has come, mum," said TEDDY, from the outside.
"What word shall I give him?"
"Tell him I shan't want him," said ANN.
In a few minutes TEDDY came back.
"He says, mum, as he won't go without marryin' somebody, or a gittin'
his pay anyway, for it's a nice buryin' job as he's lost by comin'."
"But," said ANN, "I can't--" She hesitated, and seemed to form a sudden
resolution. "Tell him," she continued, "tell him--"
(To be continued.)
* * * * *