Читать книгу Jed, the Poorhouse Boy - Alger Horatio Jr., Thomas Chandler Haliburton - Страница 3

"Ahem!" began Squire Dixon, clearing his throat; "the announcement of my friend Mrs. Fogson furnishes me with a text. I hope you all appreciate your privileges in sharing this comfortable home at the expense of the town. Here all your material wants are cared for, and though you are without means, you need have no anxiety. A well-filled board is spread for you three times a day, and you enjoy the maternal care of Mrs. Fogson."

Here there was a shrill laugh from one of the old women.

Squire Dixon frowned, and Mrs. Fogson looked anything but maternal as she scowled at the offending "boarder."

"I am surprised at this unseemly interruption," said Squire Dixon severely. "I am constrained to believe that there is at least one person present who does not appreciate the privileges of this happy home. You are probably all aware that I am the Overseer of the Poor, and that it was through my agency that the services of Mr. and Mrs. Fogson were obtained."

Here it would have been in order for some one to propose "Three cheers for Mr. and Mrs. Fogson," but instead all looked gloomy and depressed.

"I don't know that I have any more to say," concluded Squire Dixon after a pause. "I will only exhort you to do your duty in the position in which Providence has placed you, and to give as little trouble as possible to your good friends Mr. and Mrs. Fogson."

Here there was another cackling laugh, which caused Mrs. Fogson to look angry.

"I'm on to you, Sally Stokes," she said sharply. "You'll have to go without your supper to-night."

The poor, half-witted creature immediately burst into tears, and rocked to and fro in a dismal manner.

"You have done perfectly right in rebuking such unseemly behavior, Mrs. Fogson," said Squire Dixon.

"I didn't mind the insult to myself, squire," returned Mrs. Fogson meekly. "It made me angry to have you insulted while you were making your interesting remarks. The paupers are very ill-behaved; I give you my word that I slave for them from morning till night, and you see how I am repaid."

"Mrs. Fogson, virtue is its own reward," observed the squire solemnly.

"It has to be in my case," said Mrs. Fogson; "but it comforts me to think that you at least appreciate my efforts."

"I do; I do, indeed! You can always rely upon me to—to—in a word, to back you up."

Here a diversion was made by the appearance of Mr. Fogson and the two boys.

"Oh, Simeon!" exclaimed Mrs. Fogson impulsively. "You don't know what you have lost."

Mr. Fogson mechanically glanced at his vest to see whether his watch-chain and the watch appended were gone.

"What have I lost?" he demanded.

"Squire Dixon's interesting speech to the paupers. It was truly eloquent."

"My dear Mrs. Fogson," said the squire, looking modest, "you quite overrate my simple words."

"They were simple, but they were to the point," said the lady of the poorhouse, "and I hope—I do hope that the paupers will lay them to heart."

There was an amused smile on the face of Jed, who was sharp enough to see through the shallow humbug which was being enacted before him. He understood very well the interested motives of Mrs. Fogson, and why she saw fit to flatter the town official from whom she and her husband had received their appointment.

"I wish you had heard the squire, too, Jed!" said Mrs. Fogson, detecting the smile on the boy's face.

"Perhaps, ma'am, you can tell me what he said," returned Jed demurely.

Mrs. Fogson was a little taken aback, but she accepted the invitation.

"He said you ought to consider yourself very lucky to have such a comfortable home."

"I do," said Jed with a comical look.

"I am glad to hear it," said Mrs. Fogson, suspiciously, "though it hasn't always looked that way, I am bound to say."

"Are you going to stay much longer, father?" asked Percy, who was getting tired.

"Perhaps we had better go," said Squire Dixon. "We have staid quite a while."

"When do you have dinner?" asked Percy, turning to Jed.

"In about an hour. I have no doubt Mrs. Fogson will invite you, if you would like to stay."

"Me—eat with paupers?" retorted Percy with fine scorn.

"I don't think you would like it," said Jed. "I don't."

"Why, you are a pauper yourself."

"I don't think so. I earn my living, such as it is. I work from morning till night."

"What do they give you for dinner?" asked Percy, moved by curiosity.

"Mrs. Fogson puts a bone in the boiler and makes bone soup," answered Jed gravely. "You can't tell how good it is till you try it."

"Is there anything else?"

"A few soggy potatoes, and some stale bread without butter."

"Don't you have tea?"

"Once on Sundays. It don't do to pamper us, you know."

"Do you have puddings or pies?"

"No; the town can't afford it," returned Jed without a smile. "What do you think of our bill of fare?"

"Pretty mean, I think. Do Mr. and Mrs. Fogson eat with you?"

"No; they eat later, in the small room adjoining."

"Do they have the same dinner as you?"

"Sometimes they have roast chicken, and the other day when I went into the room there was a plum pudding on the table."

Percy laughed.

"Just what I thought. The old man and old woman aren't going to get left."

"I don't know about that."

"What do you mean?"

"I'll explain another time," said Jed, nodding. "I wish I was Overseer of the Poor."

"What would you do?"

"I'd turn out the Fogsons and put back Mr. and Mrs. Avery."

"Father says they spoiled the paupers."

"At any rate they didn't starve them."

"Old Fogson is saving money to the town—so father says."

"Wait till the end of the year. You'll find the town will have just as much to pay. What they save off the food they will put into their own pockets."

"What are you talking about?" asked Mrs. Fogson suspiciously.

Jed did not have to reply, for Percy took offense at what he rightly judged to be a piece of impertinence.

"Mrs. Fogson," he said, "what we are talking about is no concern of yours."

A bright red spot showed itself in either cheek of Mrs. Fogson, and she would have annihilated the speaker if she could; but she was politic, and remembered that Percy was the son of the overseer.

"I didn't mean any offense, Master Percy," she said. "It was simply a playful remark on my part."

"I'm glad to hear it," responded Percy. "You didn't look very playful."

Squire Dixon was conversing with Mr. Fogson, and didn't hear this little conversation.

"I am just digging my potatoes," said Fogson deferentially. "I have some excellent Jackson whites. I will send you round a bushel to try."

"You are very kind, Mr. Fogson," said the squire, smiling urbanely. "I shall appreciate them, you may be sure. Mr. Avery never would have made me such an offer. It is clear to me that you are the right man in the right place."

"I am proud to hear you say so, Squire Dixon. With such an Overseer of the Poor as you are, I am sure the interests of the town will be safe."

"Thank you! Good-by."

"Come again soon, squire," said Mrs. Fogson with a frosty smile. She did not extend a similar invitation to Percy, who had wounded her pride by his unceremonious words.

"They are very worthy people, Percy," said the squire as they rode away.

"Do you think so, father? I don't admire your taste."

"My son, I am surprised at you," but in his secret heart the squire agreed with Percy.

Soon after Squire Dixon and Percy left the poorhouse dinner was served. It answered very well the description given by Jed. Though the boy was hungry, he found it almost impossible to eat his portion, scanty though it was.

"Turning up your nose at your dinner as usual!" said Mrs. Fogson sharply. "If you don't like it you can get another boarding-house."

"I think I shall," answered Jed.

"What do you mean by that?" demanded Mrs. Fogson quickly.

"If the board doesn't improve I shall dry up and blow away," returned Jed.

Mrs. Fogson sniffed and let the matter drop.

Towards the close of the afternoon, as Jed was splitting wood in the yard, his attention was drawn to a runaway horse which was speeding down the road at breakneck speed, while a lady's terrified face was visible looking vainly around in search of help.

Jed dropped his axe, ran to the bend of the road, and dashed out, waving a branch which he picked up by the roadside. The horse slowed down, and Jed, seizing the opportunity, ran to his head, seized him by the bridle, and brought him to a permanent stop.

"How brave you are!" said the lady. "Will you jump into the buggy and drive me to my home? I don't dare to trust myself alone with the horse again."

Jed did as desired, and at the end of the ride Mrs. Redmond (she was the wife of Dr. Redmond) gave him a dollar, accompanying it with hearty thanks.

"I suppose Fogson will try to get this dollar away from me," thought Jed, "but he won't succeed."