THE WEDDING BREAKFAST.
At the breakfast table the next morning old man Staggs spread himself
back with a loud laugh as Lyman entered the room. His wife looked at
him with sharp reproof.
"Jasper, you ought to be ashamed of yourself," she said. "It is a sin
to laugh at a trouble. Sit down, Mr. Lyman."
"Cousin Sam," said Lyman, and the old man roared again. "Well, sir,"
he declared, with the tears streaming out of his eyes, "I never saw
anything like it in my life. It knocked him, knocked him prosperous,
as old Moxey used to say. Best joke I ever heard of."
"Jasper, don't," his wife pleaded. "For my sake don't. I am afraid
he'll never speak to us again."
"Well, what of that? Can we coin his words and pass them for money?
And he has never given us anything but words. He has been promising
Annie a silk dress since she was fourteen. Won't speak to us again.
What do you want? More promises? I'm gettin' tired of 'em. Why, he has
even flung ridicule on my arrest of that desperate man, the most
dangerous fellow that ever trod shoe leather. And, as Mr. Lyman don't
appear to be upset, I'm glad the thing happened."
"But nearly all the blame falls on me," Miss Annie whimpered. "I am
afraid ever to meet him again."
"Oh, you are afraid he won't make you another promise. Well, that
would be a terrible loss. Lyman, jest help yourself to that fried ham.
Tilt up the dish, and dip out some of the gravy. Sorry we haven't got
cakes and maple syrup; wish we had some angel's food. Rather a strange
weddin' breakfast with the bride not present."
"Did--did Mrs. Lyman entirely recover before she was taken home?"
Lyman asked.
Miss Annie looked up. "I think it was nearly all put on," she said.
"Why, Annie Milburn Staggs!" her mother exclaimed. "How can you say
such a thing! I don't know what's come over you and your father. I'm
getting so I'm afraid to hear you speak, you shock me so."
"That's right, Annie," said the old man. "Say exactly what you think.
To tell the truth, I'm gettin' sorter tired of bein' trod under by the
horse that McElwin rides. And if I was you, Lyman, I'd stand right up
to him."
"That's about where you'll find me standing. I am sorry for the young
woman, but--"
"Don't worry over her," Miss Annie spoke up. "I believe she's laughing
alone right now over the absurdity of it. Why, anybody would, and
she's no more than human."
"I suppose she denounced me," said Lyman.
"Yes, in a way. She had to keep time with her mother. But they are
madder at Henry Bostic than at anyone else. And really, he's the only
one that's guilty. But I don't blame him much. The McElwins have
always made fun of him."
"What are you going to do, Lyman?" the old man asked.
"Nothing. I am satisfied."
"Don't say that, Mr. Lyman," the old woman pleaded. "Don't distress a
proud family."
"Madam," Lyman replied, "I am ready to kneel and beg the pardon of a
heart in distress, but senseless pride doesn't appeal to me. I can
compare families with the McElwins when it comes to that, and putting
my judgment aside, I can be as proud as they are. They have money, but
that is all, and they would be but paupers compared with the really
rich. There are no great names in their family, while from my family
have sprung orators, novelists and poets."
"Good!" Miss Annie cried. "I like to look at you when you talk like
that."
"I'll bet you ain't afraid of nobody," the old man declared. "I never
saw an eye like yourn that was afraid, and a face, nuther. Oh, when it
comes to looks, you are there all right. Well, sir," he added, "the
town's stirred up. Old Ebenezer is all of a titter. Afraid to laugh
out loud, but she's tickled all the same." The old man leaned back
with a chuckle, and in his merriment he slowly clawed at the rim of
gray whiskers that ran around under his chin. "I like to see a town
tickled," he said.
"Never mind, Jasper," his wife spoke up, "your pride may be humbled
one of these days."
"My pride," he laughed. "Why, bless you, I haven't any pride. Cousin
McElwin knocked it all out of me when he said, and right to my face,
that anybody could have arrested the man that choked the sheriff. I
knowed then that something was going to happen to him. Knowed it as
well as I knowed my name."
The old woman's hand shook and her cup rattled in the saucer as she
put it down. "I hope the Lord will forgive you for bein' so
revengeful," she said.
"Don't let that worry you, Tobitha," he replied, rubbing his rim of
gray bristles. "The Lord takes care of his own, and I reckon your
prayers have made me one of the elected."
"One of the elect, father," said Miss Annie.
"All the same," the old man replied. "Why, just look," he added,
glancing through the window--"Just look at the folks out there gazin'
at the house. Oh, we live in the center of this town, at present."
"Annie," said the old woman, "pull down the shade. The impudent
things!"
"I don't believe I would," the old man tittered as his daughter arose
to obey. "It ain't right to rob folks of a pleasure that don't cost us
nothin'."
"There's that vicious Mrs. Potter," said Annie, and with a spiteful
jerk she pulled down the shade. "We will shut off her malicious view."
"It is to be expected that a bridegroom should be an object of
interest," Lyman remarked. "I awoke last night and thought that I
heard sleet rattling at the window, but recalling the time of year I
knew that it was rice thrown in showers by my friends."
The old lady looked at Lyman: "I am sorry that you're not more
serious," she said.
"Serious," Lyman repeated with a twinkling glance at the old man. "I
have done everything I can to prove that I am serious. I have just
been married."
"Oh, you got it that time, Tobitha. Got it, and I knowed you would."
"Jasper, for goodness sake, hush. Annie, come away from there, a
peepin' through at those good-for-nothin' people. They'd better be at
work earnin' a livin' for their families, gracious knows. Are you
going?" she asked as Lyman arose.
"Yes, to my office, to work for the _Sentinel_. I am the editor,
now."
"Why, you didn't tell us that," said Annie, turning from the window.
"My mind has been engaged with more important matters," he replied,
with his hands on the back of the chair, smiling at her. "It was only
yesterday that Warren offered to join his misfortune with mine."
The old woman sighed: "I hope you'll be careful not to say things in
the street to stir up strife," she said.
"Strife," the old man repeated with a laugh.
"Yes, strife," she insisted. "There are any number of men that would
like to get him into trouble, just to please Cousin McElwin."
"I think I can take care of myself," said Lyman, putting on his hat.