Читать книгу Traits of American Humour (Vol. 1-3) - Various Authors - Страница 11

Table of Contents

“I says,” says I, “Hannah, sposin we keep thanksgivin’ to home this year,” says I, “and invite all our hull grist o’ cousins, and aunts and things—go the hull figure, and do the thing genteel.”

“Well, agreed,” says she, “it’s just what I was a thinkin’, only I consate we’d better not cackliate too fur ahead, for I didn’t never no it to miss somethin’ happenin’ so sure as I laid out for the leastest thing. Though it’s as good a time now, far’s I know, as any—for I’ve just weanen Moses, and tend to take comfort a spell, ’cause a troublesomer cryiner critter niver come into life.”

“Exactly so,” says I, “and if I’d a known everything afore I was married that I do now,” says I—

“Hold your tongue for a goney, Johnny Beedle,” says she, “and mind your thanksgivin’.”

“Poh!” says I, “Hannah, don’t be miffy; I was only jeestin’—and you jist go and put on a kittle of water, and I’ll go out and stick a pig for you; two if you like.” So away I went and murdered the pigs out o’ love and good-will to Hannah. I rather guess the critters wished I warn’t so good-natured.

Well, things went on swimmingly, and what was best of all, we had the luck to invite the minister and deacon afore anybody got a chance; for the very moment the proklimation was read, I watched for em comin’ out of meeting, and nailed ’em both. But as I was a tellin’, Hannah, she went at it—she got some of her galls to help her, and they made all smoke. In the first place she went to work reg’lar, and turned the house inside out, and then t’other side in again, all the same as darnin’ a stocking. Hannah is a smart willin’ gall, and a rael worker, and a prime cook into the bargain; let her alone in the doughnut line, and for pumpkin pies—lick! So the day afore the thanksgivin’ she called me into the t’other room, that Marm Peabody christened the parlour, to see what a lot o’ pies and cakes, and sausage-meat and doughnuts she’d got made up, and charged me not to lay the weight of my finger upon one on ’em. I telled her I guessed she cackelated to call in the whole parish, paupers and all, to eat up sich a sight of vittles; so I grabbed a handful of doughnuts, and went out to feed the hogs, and to see to things in the field. I was gone all the fore part o’ the day, and when I went home I found Hannah all hoity toity, in a livin’ pucker cryin’, and taken on to kill, and poor little Moses tottling arter her and cryin’ too. I declare if I didn’t feel streaked.

“What in the name o’ natur,” says I, “is the matter? who’s dead, and what’s to pay now?”

With that she fetched a new screech, and down she whopped into a cheer.

“Johnny Beedle, Johnny,” says she, and with that she boohood agin.

“What ails the woman?” says I, “are you possest, or what?”

“The child is ruined!” says she, “Moses Beedle is ruined.”

I kitched up the child, and turned him eend for eend, every which way, but I couldn’t see nothin’ extraordinary. I began to think that the woman was bewitched, and by this time was a good mind to feel mad. I don’t know of nothin’ that’ll raise a feller’s dander quicker than to skeer him out of his seven senses. So I giv Hannah a reg’lar breezin’, for actin’ so like a raven distracted bed bug; and what with jarrin’ a spell and coaxin’ a spell, at last I got the whole on’t out of her.

It appears that about an hour or thereabouts arter I’d gone out, there was a man rid up to the door a horseback, got down, and come in and asked for a drink o’ water or beer, I ain’t sartain which—but anyhow he was a raal dandified chap, and dreadful civel spoken withal. So my wife and he soon got into a chat about the weather and sich things. Well, while he set, the young one squalled in the room; he’d been asleep, you know, with his mornin’s nap; my wife went and fetched him into the room, and she obsarved that the man looked considerable hard at him, as if he see’d somethin’ queer; tho’ she didn’t think nothin’ of it at the time, but recollected arterwards.

She was quite tickled to see the man take him and set him on his knee; but while he was a playin’ with him—for Moses is a raal peeler, he ain’t afeered of the biggest stranger that ever was—directly he fell to pawin’ about his head in sich a comical style, and talking to himself, and withal acted so curious, that Hannah got skeery, and went to take him away, but he wouldn’t let her take him just then; he said, “he wanted to examine his head.”

“His head!” says Hannah, “nothin’ ails his head.”

“Nothin’ ails it?” says he, “why it’s the most remarkable head that I’ve ever seen.” And then he went on with sich a string of long words, there was no memberin’ or understandin’ half—then he clapped his hand on the side of the little fellow’s sconce-box, “there,” says he, “do you see that divilupment;” or some sich word that sounded awful.

“That’s what?” says Hannah.

“Vulgarly called a bump,” continued he.

“It ain’t a bump too, nyther,” says his mother. “It’s his nat’rul shape.”

“No doubt of that,” said the villin.

“Well now, if ever I heard the beat o’ that,” says she, “that bump’s come nat’rul.”

So he told her they was only called bumps, ’cause they looked like ’em; and the bigger they were, and the more there was on ’em, the more different sorts of capacities and idees folks had—and so on.

At first she thought the man was stark mad; but he seemed entirely harmless, and so she let him go on with his stuff, and somehow he e’en a most persuaded her it was all gospel. He said little Moses had got the bump of destruction to an all-fired degree, tho’ it was in the mother’s power to help it considerable. But when Hannah asked him if she must swathe up his head he snortered right out; and then went on to say, that Moses had jist got sich a shaped head as the man had that was hung down to Boston last September. He finally talked her into a livin’ fidgit—polite as a stage-driver, all the time too, and so larnt, besides, that Hannah couldn’t do nothin’ but paraphrase. So arter he’d drinked a quart o’ beer, and Hannah cut a mince-pie for him, he cleared, leaving Hannah in such a stew, that kept workin’ up and workin’ up till she heered me comin’ into the house, and then it all burst out to once. A tempestical time there was, I tell you.

Now, by the time Hannah had finished her lockrum, you may depend I was in an almighty passion; and it was amazin’ lucky for the feller that he was out of arm’s length that minit. But then I understood it all better than she, for I’d seen, in the prints, pieces about Franology or Cranology, or some such stuff that seemed to explain to my mind what the feller meant. But poor Hannah don’t get much time to read newspapers, so that she hadn’t hearn a word. No wonder she took the man for a crazy critter.

Yet, somehow, when I looked at Moses, I couldn’t help consatin’ that his head looked sort o’ queer, tho’ I wouldn’t say nothin’ nyther; but, says I, “Hannah, look here, that feller that’s been treatin’ you to sich a rigmarole of nonsense is a rotten fool, and you’re another. If iver I should light ’pon him, I gess I would give his head a bump that would save him from the gallows. All is, if you think anything is the matter with the young one, why I’ll go arter the docter, and that’ll settle it.”

“Do, John,” says she.

So off I starts for Doctor Eldrich; but by the time I got to the house, I begun to think what a tarnation goose I was to go on such a tomfool’s arrent. By good luck, howsomever, the doctor was out; so I jist left word for him to come to our house in the course iv the day, if he had nothin’ else to do.

Thinks I, as I trudged back, here’s an end to thanksgiving. Well, to rights, Doctor Hosannah Eldrich, he’s a deacon of our church, and sings thro’ his nose a few. I declare, when I see him ridin’ up the lane I couldn’t help feelin’ like a thunderin’ calf; so I jist made excuse to split up some kindlin’, and left Hannah to give him the chapter and the varse. Our wood-house is short of a mile from the house; but I could hear the doctor’s haw-haw clear out there. So I dropped axe, and in I went. S’niver the Doctor see me he giv’ me a hunch.

“Ain’t yew a pretty considerable queer chap,” sez he, “to send for me on such a beautiful bizness as this?” With that he haw-haw’d agin; and my wife she laughed till she cried, jist to see the figer the Doctor cut, for he’s as long as the moral law, and couldn’t stand up for laughin’.

Then I laughed tu, till the house rung; luckily our nearest neighbour lives a half a mile off, and is stone deaf into the bargain. So I tipt the wink to Hannah, and tell’d Hosannah ’twas all a joke of our’n to send for him; (for I thought I should look corner ways and skwywoniky if he should tell the company about us nixt day. Besides, I know’d the Deacon liked a joke pretty well, even if he got rubbed sometimes). So, says I, “How did Hannah carry it out?” Consarn it, if he didn’t jump right into the trap.

“Capital! capital!” said he. “Botheration, if I didn’t think she was in raal arnest!”

[10]	By W. L. McClintoch.