I AM SURPRISED.
Matters were going from bad to worse at Fairview. My father had been
away to the country town a week, and had not yet returned.
As the attendance on the summer school was small, Agnes managed to come
home very early, and go away very late, so that we were like three happy
children having a holiday, for my mother remained up with us until
midnight, if we did not get sleepy before that time, talking very
little, but quietly enjoying our company, as though it was a pleasure
usually denied her. I told them all I knew about Jo, Mateel, Barker, his
strange sister, and Clinton Bragg, inventing incidents whenever the
interest threatened to flag, and Agnes was always entertaining, so that
we were very happy during that week.
It was the Saturday night after my return from the mill, when we were
beginning to be seriously alarmed about my father’s long absence, and
just after we had agreed that something should be done about it, the
door opened, and he walked in. I had been expecting him to return in a
bad humor, but much to my surprise he was in a very good humor, and
appeared to be pleased about something, as though he had accomplished
all he desired, and was good enough to ask me if I had enjoyed myself at
Barker’s.
My mother and Agnes went out to the kitchen at once to prepare his
supper, and he followed them to talk while they were about it. He had
brought them presents, and, holding up the packages, asked them to guess
what they were, and when they failed he laughed, and asked them to
guess again. I looked on in wonder, and after he had seated himself at
the table, and commenced eating without asking a blessing, he astonished
us all by saying:--
“Well, I have bought the ‘Union of States’ newspaper, and a house in
Twin Mounds, and we move there to live next Monday. What do you all
think of it?”
We were so much surprised that we could not say what we thought of it,
and he continued:--
“I have been making the trade for several weeks, but only finally closed
it to-day, and I now hold the keys of the establishment in my pocket.
The house in which we are to live is vacant, and I will go over with Ned
on Monday, and Lee and his sons are already engaged to commence moving
the next day. This may seem very sudden to you, but I have been thinking
of it for months, and am already impatient at the delay. The farm will
be rented to Lee, and his newly-married son will occupy this house.
There is no reason I can think of why we should not move at once. In a
month I shall drive over and attend the sale, which I have already
advertised, and then I shall be through.”
Taking from his pocket a roll of hand-bills, which were apparently fresh
from the press, he handed each of us one. It began with the heading
“Public Sale,” and stated that the undersigned, having bought the “Union
of States” newspaper in Twin Mounds, would offer at public sale, on the
mentioned date, at his farm a half mile north of Fairview church, the
following stock, implements, and effects. Here followed a long list of
cattle, horses, ploughs, etc., with which I was very familiar, and I
remember thinking they all looked exceedingly well in print.
“I am tired of Fairview,” he said, pushing back from the table, and
resuming his old habit of thoughtfulness. “I am tired of its work and
drudgery. I don’t dislike work, but, like other men, I am anxious that
it pay me as much as possible. I shall continue to work as hard as ever,
but I hope to more purpose. I make little enough here except in land
speculations; that I can continue, and do more of. The profession I have
chosen will afford me opportunity to study; that will be a part of my
work, and we can live more genteelly in town than we have lived here. I
feel that ten more years on a farm would make me an old man, whereas I
should at that time only reach my prime. These are briefly the reasons
why I made the change. I have figured it out; it will pay. I could not
afford to make a mistake in this particular.”
I thought of the long rows of figures which he had lately been casting
up in his private book, and the hours he spent in pondering over the
result.
“Three men are now necessary to do the work in publishing the ‘Union of
States.’ In a year Ned and I will be able to do it ourselves, for we
will work as hard there as here, but, as I have said, to more purpose.
The time a boy spends in learning the trade of a printer is equal to so
much time at school, therefore Ned will practically be at school summer
and winter, and of some use besides. The boy is now reaching an age when
his education should be attended to, and to all intents and purposes he
will begin a term in an academy next Monday.”
He got up at this and went to bed, leaving us to talk about it. From the
cold and cheerless manner in which he said I would be able to do the
work of a man and a half in a year, I judged there was to be little
idleness for me in the new place, and besides my work he expected me to
look after my education, which had certainly been neglected in the
past.
Although the paper had been coming to the house for years we had paid
but little attention to it, so Agnes and I took the lamp and ransacked
everywhere for a copy of the “Union of States,” that we might examine it
in a new light. We found one at last, artistically notched, and doing
duty on a pantry shelf. It was a sheet of eight columns to the page,
printed in large type, and we could not help admitting (it was really
the case) that it was well printed, and very fair looking. I read most
of the advertisements aloud, and wondered whether we should speedily
become acquainted with the parties, or whether years would be required
to get into their aristocratic circles, for, in connection with
statements that they carried the principal stocks of goods in their line
in the West, at that distance they seemed very important and
distinguished. However, as they all claimed the distinction of being the
leading merchant of Twin Mounds, I thought that perhaps the
advertisements were overdrawn, and that I might know them, at least by
sight, within a few months.
There was almost a full page of law notices, some of them from adjoining
counties, where newspapers were not published; at the foot of each one
was printed, “Printer’s fee, $12,” and it occurred to me that most of
the revenue was derived from this source. I read four or five of these,
but as they were all in nearly the same language, I gave it up.
There was also a large advertisement of the paper itself, occupying two
full columns, commencing with the figures of the year in which it was
established, and the figures of the current year (from which I made out
that the paper had been published seven years), followed by “Subscribe,”
“Subscribe,” in large black letters. Then came a long platform of dull
political principles, and a declaration that it was the duty of every
good citizen to take it, because it advocated Benton County first, and
the world afterward. After this came a paragraph, separated from the
other part of the advertisement by dashes and o’s (--o--o--), stating
that job printing in all its branches, from a mammoth poster to the most
delicate visiting card, would be neatly and promptly executed on the new
and fast presses belonging to the establishment, and immediately above
the information that all letters should be addressed to the proprietor
to insure prompt attention (as though there had once been a habit of
sending letters intended for the printer to the blacksmith), it was said
that one copy one year would be two dollars, invariably in advance; one
copy six months, one dollar, also invariably in advance; one copy three
months, fifty cents, also invariably in advance; and that single copies
in neat wrappers for mailing could be had on application at five cents
each.
We had no idea what the business was like, and sat there until midnight
discussing and wondering about it, occasionally referring to the sheet
to prove or disprove a notion advanced by one of the number. My own idea
was that the paper was bought in a distant market, as an article of
merchandise, and that my part of the business would be to stand behind a
counter and sell copies at an advance in connection with mammoth posters
and delicate visiting cards, but Agnes said that while she knew nothing
about the newspaper business, she was certain that idea was wrong, and
so it turned out.
When I suggested that Agnes could no longer live with us--it occurred to
me all of a sudden, very late in the evening, and almost took my breath
away--my mother (who had evidently not thought of it before, either) got
up hurriedly, and went out of the room. I expressed the fear that she
had gone away to cry about it, whereupon Agnes went after her, and came
leading her back presently, with her arms tenderly about her.
“I can come over every Saturday,” Agnes said, “and we shall all be so
busy during the week as not to notice the separation. I shall miss you
more than you can possibly miss me, for I always think of this as my
home, but it is not far, and we shall often be together. My school will
be out in three weeks, when I will come over and stay until you are
tired of me.”
As though we should ever tire of Agnes! But my mother would not be
comforted, and continued to cry softly to herself--thinking, I have no
doubt, that she was about to separate from the only creature in all the
world who had ever been kind, and considerate, and fond of her. When I
went to bed, I left them together, Agnes gently stroking my mother’s
hair, and assuring her that she was her dear, kind, good friend, and
that she would never forget how welcome she had always been made in her
new home.