The young man John asked me to come up one day and try some “old Burbon,”
which he said was A 1. On asking him what was the number of his room,
he answered, that it was forty-’leven, sky-parlor floor, but that I
shouldn’t find it, if he didn’t go ahead to show me the way. I followed
him to his _habitat_, being very willing to see in what kind of warren he
burrowed, and thinking I might pick up something about the boarders who
had excited my curiosity.
The young man John fell into a train of reflections which ended in his
producing a Bologna sausage, a plate of “crackers,” as we Boston folks
call certain biscuits, and the bottle of whiskey described as being A 1.
Under the influence of the crackers and sausage, he grew cordial and
communicative.
It was time, I thought, to sound him as to our boarders.
What do you think of our young Iris?——I began.
Fust-rate little filly;——he said.——Pootiest and nicest little chap
I’ve seen since the schoolma’am left. Schoolma’am was a brown-haired
one,——eyes coffee-color. This one has got wine-colored eyes,——’n’ that’s
the reason they turn a fellah’s head, I suppose.
This is a splendid blonde,——I said,——the other was a brunette. Which
style do you like best?
Which do I like best, boiled mutton or roast mutton?——said the young man
John. Like ’em both,——it a’n’t the color of ’em makes the goodness. I’ve
been kind of lonely since schoolma’am went away. Used to like to look at
her. I never said anything particular to her, that I remember, but——
I don’t know whether it was the cracker and sausage, or that the young
fellow’s feet were treading on the hot ashes of some longing that had not
had time to cool, but his eye glistened as he stopped.
I suppose she wouldn’t have looked at a fellah like me,——he said,——but
I come pretty near tryin’. If she had said, Yes, though, I shouldn’t
have known what to have done with her. Can’t marry a woman nowadays till
you’re so deaf you have to cock your head like a parrot to hear what she
says, and so long-sighted you can’t see what she looks like nearer than
arm’s-length.
Here is another chance for you,——I said.——What do you want nicer than
such a young lady as Iris?
It’s no use,——he answered.——I look at them girls and feel as the fellah
did when he missed catchin’ the trout.——’To’od ’a’ cost more butter to
cook him ’n’ he’s worth,——says the fellah.——Takes a whole piece o’ goods
to cover a girl up nowadays. I’d as lief undertake to keep a span of
elephants,——and take an ostrich to board, too,——as to marry one of ’em.
What’s the use? Clerks and counter-jumpers a’n’t anything. Sparragrass
and green peas a’n’t for them,——not while they’re young and tender.
Hossback-ridin’ a’n’t for them,——except once a year,——on Fast-day. And
marryin’ a’n’t for them. Sometimes a fellah feels lonely, and would
like to have a nice young woman, to tell her how lonely he feels. And
sometimes a fellah,——here the young man John looked very confidential,
and, perhaps, as if a little ashamed of his weakness,——sometimes a fellah
would like to have one o’ them small young ones to trot on his knee and
push about in a little wagon,——a kind of a little Johnny, you know;——it’s
odd enough, but, it seems to me, nobody can afford them little articles,
except the folks that are so rich they can buy everything, and the folks
that are so poor they don’t want anything. It makes nice boys of us young
fellahs, no doubt! And it’s pleasant to see fine young girls sittin’,
like shopkeepers behind their goods, waitin’, and waitin’, and waitin’,
’n’ no customers,——and the men lingerin’ round and lookin’ at the goods,
like folks that want to be customers, but haven’t got the money!
Do you think the deformed gentleman means to make love to Iris?——I said.
What! Little Boston ask that girl to marry him! Well, now, that’s
comin’ of it a little too strong. Yes, I guess she will marry him and
carry him round in a basket, like a lame bantam! Look here!——he said,
mysteriously;——one of the boarders swears there’s a woman comes to
see him, and that he has heard her singin’ and screechin’. I should
like to know what he’s about in that den of his. He lays low ’n’ keeps
dark,——and, I tell you, there’s a good many of the boarders would like
to get into his chamber, but he don’t seem to want ’em. Biddy could
tell somethin’ about what she’s seen when she’s been to put his room
to rights. She’s a Paddy ’n’ a fool, but she knows enough to keep her
tongue still. All I know is, I saw her crossin’ herself one day when she
came out of that room. She looked pale enough, ’n’ I heard her mutterin’
somethin’ or other about the Blessed Virgin. If it hadn’t been for the
double doors to that chamber of his, I’d have had a squint inside before
this; but, somehow or other, it never seems to happen that they’re both
open at once.
What do you think he employs himself about?——said I.
The young man John winked.
I waited patiently for the thought, of which this wink was the blossom,
to come to fruit in words.