THE HAWKINS HOUSE
The converting of Mrs. Hawkins' boarding house into a hotel had been due
to two causes: First, the thrift and economy of the lady herself, which
had enabled her to put by a good sum in the bank. This she expended in
building an ell with extra sleeping rooms, painting the structure cream
colour with brown trimmings, and replacing old furniture with that
of modern make. This latter, she confessed within a year, was a great
mistake, for the new chairs became rickety, the castors would not hold
in the bed posts, the bureau drawers became unmanageable, and the rooms,
as she expressed it, had a “second-hand” appearance. Then it was that
the old mahogany furniture, that had been relegated to the attic, was
brought down, furbished up, and restored to its original place. When
Quincy entered the room which he had formerly occupied, it did not seem
possible that five years had elapsed.
The second cause that had led Mrs. Hawkins to change the small and
modest sign--“Rooms and Board”--which had been in the front window
for years, for a large swinging sign over the front door--“Hawkins
House”--having large gold letters on a blue ground--was the rapid growth
of the town. Many new mills had been erected in the neighbouring city of
Cottonton. The operatives being unable to obtain suitable accommodations
in the city, had come to Fernborough to live, where they could have
gardens, fresh air, and playgrounds for their children. Fernborough
became to Cottonton what Methuen is to Lawrence. Mrs. Hawkins was
democratic, but shirt-sleeves and Prince Albert coats did not look
well together, so she had turned what had been her sitting room into
a private dining room, and it was here that what she called her “star
boarders” were served.
By the time Quincy and Alice had opened their trunks, and distributed
the contents in the capacious closet and deep, roomy bureau drawers, the
cheerful tones of the dinner bell were heard, and they descended to the
private room.
They were its only occupants.
“I thought as how you might be hungry after so long a ride an' so I just
hurried Jonas up so you could begin afore the crowd came in. I don't
introduce folks now I run a hotel. If they gets acquainted it's their
lookout not mine,” and Mrs. Hawkins and Olive brought in the fare from
the adjoining kitchen.
Such a meal for hungry people! Lamb broth, roast chicken, yeast biscuit,
potatoes, string beans, cucumbers, lettuce, berry pie, blackberries,
currants, frosted cake, with tea, coffee, or cocoa.
“What does she charge?” asked Alice in a whisper when they were alone.
“A dollar a day for room and board--three square meals for board.”
After dinner they went into the parlour, where Mrs. Hawkins joined them.
“I jest told Jonas he must help Olive wash the dishes to-day, for I
hain't seen ye for so long I'm just dyin' to have a talk with yer,
'cause I s'pose you'll eat and run while yer here, you know so many
folks.”
“We haven't much to tell about ourselves,” said Quincy. “What we want to
know is how Fernborough folks are getting along.”
“Wall, I s'pos'd you'd like to hear what's goin' on 'round here, an'
p'raps I can tell yer some things that other folks mightn't mention,
'cause they'd forgot it, or p'raps wouldn't want to tell. Is that cheer
comfortable, Alice? I s'pose I ought to say Misses Guv'nor Sawyer, but
it don't come nat'ral, I've known yer so long.”
“I shall always be Alice to my good friend Mrs. Hawkins and her daughter
Mandy.”
“Speakin' o' Mandy, you know she's got two little boys--twins, one named
after Deacon Mason, and t'other after your husband's friend Obadiah
Strout, ther perfesser--and she's got a little girl, nigh on ter two
years old named Marthy after me--but they don't call her Marthy--it's
allus Mattie. These new-fangled names fuss me all up. If Mary and Marthy
were good enough for the Lord's friends, I don't know what he'd think to
hear 'em called Mamie and Mattie.
“Speakin' o' names, there's my Jonas, which is same as Jonah I s'pose.
Anyway it fits him to a T, for he's a reg'lar Jonah if there ever
was one, which our minister, Mr. Gay, you'll meet him at dinner-time
to-morrow, says he's doubtful about.
“If a whale swallowed my Jonas it couldn't keep him down, for he's just
_satirated_ with tobacco smoke--he says he has to puff it on the hens
and chickens to kill the varmints, and I should think it would. Do you
smoke, Mr. Sawyer?”
“Cigars, occasionally. I am not an habitual smoker.”
“Well, old Mr. Trask told me as how pipe smoke wouldn't colour lace
curtains same as cigars do. Now you jes' smoke all you want to up in
your room an' I'll see if it washes out.”
“Alice dislikes smoke, and I never use tobacco in her presence--so your
lace curtains won't suffer.”
“Wall, I'm kinder sorry for I wanted to see if Doctor Trask knew what he
was talkin' about. When I'm rich I'll have three doctors and two on 'em
will have to agree afore I'll take any of their pizen. I jes' remembered
that the new minister, Mr. Gay, smokes. I'll put some lace curtains up
in his room. You ain't seen him yet. He parts his hair in the middle.
The gals are all crazy 'bout him. I like his preachin' putty well, but
he don't use near as much brimstone as old Mr. Howe does.”
“Is Mr. Howe's son going to be a clergyman?” Alice asked.
Mrs. Hawkins laughed raucously.
“The Lord save us, I guess not! Why Emmanuel has gone and married a play
actress--and isn't she some? She rides a hoss just like a man does, and
the way she jumps fences and rides hur-rah-ti-cut down the street would
jes' make your hair stand on end. She's away now--I wish you could see
her. Of course you're goin' over to the store.”
“Why, certainly,” said Quincy. “I'm a special partner, you know. I shall
call on Mrs. Strout. You remember the party at Deacon Mason's, Alice--I
danced with Miss Bessie Chisholm--”
Mrs. Hawkins couldn't wait, “Yes, an' she made the perfesser just the
kind of wife he needed. She bosses the house... for I heard her tell him
one day that if he didn't like her cookin' he might have his meals at
the store--an' she goes to dances with her brother Sylvester. Some folks
think she's a high-flyer--but I don't blame her seein' as how she has
that old blowhard for a husband--which is true, if he is your pardner.”
Alice asked if the Strouts had any children.
“Yes, they've got a little boy, an' he's a chip of the old block. His
father brought him here one day and he pulled the cloth of'n that table
there and broke a chiny vase that I paid fifty cents for, and his father
never said a word about buyin' me another.”
“I hope that Mr. Strout and Hiram get along together well,” said Quincy.
“Hiram's a good feller. Mandy did well when she got him, but she has you
to thank for it, Mr. Sawyer. If you hadn't set him up in that grocery
store I'm afraid he'd be chorin' now. You remember Mrs. Crowley? She
jes' loves them children, but Mandy's afeerd she's going to lose her.
She's got a beau--a feller named Dan Sweeney, and his hair is so red you
could light a match by techin' it. He works for your brother 'Zeke. He's
a good enuf feller, but he and Strout don't hitch horses. You see he was
in the same regiment with the Perfesser an' he knows all about him, same
as you found out, and Strout don't talk big afore him. The fact is, the
Perfesser hain't many friends. There was Abner Stiles. They two used to
be as thick as molasses, but since Strout wouldn't give him the job in
the grocery that he'd promised him, Abner's gone back on him.”
“Does Uncle Ike board with Mandy now?” Alice knew that he did, but
wished Mrs. Hawkins' view of the strange doings of her uncle.
“Yes, he's there--goin' on eighty-two and chipper as a squirrel. He's
got religion Mandy says, and so many kinds that she don't know which one
he's got the most of.”
Quincy looked at his watch. “Mrs. Hawkins, we're going up to Ezekiel's
house. We shall stay to supper, but will get back before you lock
up--ten o'clock, isn't it?”
“No such hours in a hotel. We're allus open till twelve, and sometimes
all night--when it pays. It's a hard life, but you know what's goin' on
an' that's considruble for a woman who's tied up in the house as I am.”