HE OPENS THE WRONG DOOR.
My mother and the ancient lady who presided over the mysteries of my
initiation as a member of the human fraternity, say that I was born
with a caul over my face. Now, what I want to know is, why didn't they
leave that caul where they found it? What business had they to meddle
with the veil which beneficent nature gave me as a shield to my
infirmity? Had they respected her intention, they would have let it
alone--poked a hole in it for me to eat and breathe through, and left
the veil which she kindly provided to hide my blushing face from the
eyes of my fellow-creatures.
Nature knew beforehand that I was going to be born to be bashful.
Therefore she gave me a caul. Had this been respected as it should
have been, I could have blossomed out into my full luxuriance as a
_cauli_flower whereas now I am an ever-blooming peony.
When I rushed home after recovering from the fainting fit into which
my hiding under the bed had driven me, I threw myself down in he
sanctity of my private apartment and howled and shrieked for that caul
of my infancy. But no caul came at my call. That dried and withered
thing was reposing somewhere amid the curiosities of an old hag's
bureau-drawer.
Then I wildly wished that I were the veiled prophet of Khorassan. But
no! I was only bashful John Flutter, the butt and ridicule of a little
meddling village.
I knew that this last adventure would revive the memory of all my
previous exploits. I knew the girls would all go to see each other the
next day so as to have a good giggle together. Worse than that, I knew
there would be an unprecedented run of custom at the store. There
wouldn't be a girl in the whole place who wouldn't require something
in the dry-goods line the coming day; they would come and ask for pins
and needles just for the heartless fun of seeing _me_ enduring the
pangs of mental pins and needles.
So I resolved that I would not get up that morning. The breakfast-bell
rang three times; mother came up to knock at my door.
"Oh, I am so sleepy, mother!" I answered, with a big yawn; "you knew I
was up last night. Don't want any breakfast, just another little nap."
So the good soul went down, leaving me to my wretched thoughts. At
noon she came up again.
"John, you had better rise now. Father can't come to dinner there's so
many customers in the store. Seems as if there was going to be a ball
to-night again; every girl in town is after ribbon, or lace, or
hair-pins, or something."
"I can't get up to-day, mother. I'm awfully unwell--got a high
fever--_you'll_ have to go in and lend father a helping hand"; and so
she brought me a cup of tea and a piece of toast, and then went up to
take father's place while he ate his dinner.
I _guess_ she suspected I'd been done for again by the way those young
women laughed when she told them I was sick in bed: for she was pretty
cross when I sneaked down to tea, and didn't seem to worry about how I
felt. Well, I kept pretty quiet the rest of the season. There were
dances and sleighing parties, but I stayed away from them, and
attended strictly to business.
I don't know but that I might have begun to enjoy some peace of mind,
after the winter and part of the spring had passed without any very
awful catastrophe having occurred to me; but, some time in the latter
part of May, when the roses were just beginning to bloom, and
everything was lovely, a pretty cousin from some distant part of the
State came to spend a month at our house. I had never seen her before,
and you may imagine how I felt when she rushed at me and kissed me,
and called me her dear cousin John, just as if we had known each other
all the days of our lives. I think it was a constant surprise to her
to find that I was bashful. _She_ wasn't a bit so. It embarrassed me a
thousand times more to see how she would slyly watch out of the corner
of her laughing eye for the signs of my diffidence.
Well, of course, all the girls called on her, and boys too, as to
that, and I had to take her to return their visits, and I was in hot
water all the time. Before she went away, mother gave her a large
evening party. I behaved with my usual elegance of manner, stepping on
the ladies' trains and toes in dancing, calling them by other people's
names, and all those little courtesies for which I was so famous. I
even contrived to sit down where there was no chair, to the amusement
of the fellows. My cousin Susie was going away the next day. I was
dead in love with her, and my mind was taken up with the intention of
telling her so. I had not the faintest idea of whether she cared for
me or not. She had laughed at me and teased me mercilessly.
On the contrary, she had been very encouraging to Tom Todd, a young
lawyer of the place--a little snob, with self-conceit enough in his
dapper body for six larger men. This evening he had been particularly
attentive to her. Susie was pretty and quite an heiress, so I knew Tom
Todd would try to secure her. He was just that kind of a fellow who
could propose to a girl while he was asking her out for a set of the
lanciers, or handing her a plate of salad at supper. Alas, I could do
nothing of the kind. With all my superior opportunities, here the last
evening was half through, and I had not yet made a motion to secure
the prize. I watched Tom as if he had been a thief and I a detective.
I was cold and hot by turns whenever he bent to whisper in Susie's
ear, as he did about a thousand times. At last, as supper-time
approached, I saw my cousin slip out into the dining-room. I thought
mother had sent her to see that all was right, before marshalling the
company out to the feast.
"Now, or never," I thought, turning pale as death; and with one
resolute effort I slipped into the hall and so into the dining-room.
Susie was there, doing something; but when she saw me enter she gave a
little shriek and darted into the pantry. No! I was not to be baffled
thus. A cold sweat broke out on my forehead, but I thought of that
snob in the parlor, and pressed on to the pantry-door.
"Susie," said I, very softly, trying to open it--"Susie, I _must_
speak to you. Let me in."
The more I tried to open the door the more firmly she held it.
"Do go along with you, cousin John," she answered.
"I can't, Susie. I want to see you a minute."
"See me? Oh, what a wicked fellow! Go along, or I'll tell your
mother."
"Tell, or not; for once I'm going to have my own way," I said, and
pressing my knee against the door, I forced it open, and there stood
my pretty cousin, angry and blushing, trying to hide from my view the
crinoline which had come off in the parlor.
I retreated, closing the door and waiting for her to re-appear.
In a few minutes she came out, evidently offended.
"Susie," I stammered, "I did--did--didn't dream your bus--bus--bustle
had come off. I only wanted to tell you that--that I pr--pr--pri--prize
your li--li--li--"
"But I never lie," she interrupted me, saucily.
"That I shall be the most mis--is--is--er--able fellow that ever--"
"Now don't make a goose of yourself, cousin John," she said, sweetly,
laying her little hand on my shoulder for an instant. "Stop where you
are! Tom Todd asked me to marry him, half an hour ago, and I said I
would."
Tom Todd, then, had got the start of me; after all. Worse! he had
sneaked into the dining-room after Susie, and had come up behind us
and heard every word. As I turned, dizzy and confused, I saw his
smiling, insolent face. Enraged, unhappy, and embarrassed by his
grieving triumph, I hastily turned to retreat into the pantry!
Unfortunately, there were two doors close together, one leading to the
pantry, the other to the cellar. In my blind embarrassment I mistook
them; and the next moment the whole company were startled by a loud
bump--bumping, a crash, and a woman's scream.
There was a barrel of soft-soap at the foot of the cellar-stairs, and
I fell, head first, into that.