Читать книгу The Characteristics of American Humour - Various Authors - Страница 10

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Since I came out in print about my sleigh-riding, and frolicing, and courting, I have entered into the matrimonial state, and left off dabbling in the newspapers: for a married man has a character to take care of. But folks tease and torment me so much to let ’em know the particulars about my marriage, that I don’t know that I had best sit down once for all, and tell the rest of my experience.

When I left off, I believe I was spunking up to Sally Jones like all vengeance, and threatening to give her the butt-end of my sentiments, wasn’t I? Well, I was as good as my word. The next Sabbath-day I went right to work, after meeting, upon the outer man, as Deacon Carpenter says, and by sundown, things looked about right. I say nothing; but when I stood up to the glass to finish, and thought of titivating hair and wiskers, and so forth, I saw a little fellow there that looked wicked, and says I, “If Sally Jones knows which side her bread is buttered—but no matter, she shan’t say I didn’t give a chance.”

“Well, I went over to the Squire’s, pretty well satisfied in my own mind; so, after flattering and crowing about her a little while, I up and shew the cloven foot.

“Sally,” says I, “will you take me for better or worser?”

This put her to considering, and I gave a flourishing about the room, and cut a carly-cue with my right foot, as much as to say, “Take your own time.”

At last, says she, “I’d as liv’s have you as anybody in the world, John, but—I declare I can’t.”

“You can’t, ha! And why?”

“Cause—”

“Cause what?”

“Cause I can’t, and that’s enough. I would in a minute, John, but for only one reason, and that I’m afraid to tell ye.”

“Poh, poh!” says I, “don’t be bashful. If there’s only one stump in the way, I guess here’s a fellow—”

“Well, then, look tother way, John; I can’t speak if you look at me.”

“O, yes; there, now’s your time,” says I, with a flert.

“The reason is—Joe Bowers, the stage-driver. Now, you shan’t tell nobody, John, will ye?”

Who would have thought this of Sally Jones!

It seemed to me the very Old Boy had got into the women: they fairly put me to nonplush! All this time, my popularity with the ladies was amazing. To see them flattering and soft-soaping me all at once, you would have sworn I had nothing to do but pick and choose. I had as much gallantry to do as I wanted everywhere; and for politeness and gentility I never turned my back to no man. Then they were so thick and familiar with me, that they didn’t care what they said or did before me; and, finally, whenever they had errands or chores to, who but I was the favourite bird to fetch and carry? I was for ever and ever racing and cantering from post to pillar, to do their bidding. Rain or shine, snow or mud, nothing stopping me; and, I may say, I fairly earned their smiles by the sweat of my brow. Then it was, “O, Mr. Beedle! what should we do without Mr. Beedle!” But when I caught one alone, and began to touch upon the matrimonial sentiments, then how quick the tune was changed! O, the ways of women are curious!

Patty Bean was not the first I run against, by a long short. I never lost anything for the want of asking; and I was plagy apt to talk turky always when I get sociable, if it was only out of politeness. Now and then one would promise, and then fly off at the handle; but most all contrive some reason or other for giving me the bag to hold. One had taken a firm resolve never to marry—“No, never, never!” and the next Sunday morning she was published! Another chicken thought she was a great deal too young to undertake to manage a family. At last, I took a great shine to the school-marm, Huldah Hornbeam, though she was ten years older than I, and taller by half a yard of neck; and when I offered her heart and hand, she fixed up her mouth, and, says she, “I’ve a great respect and esteem for you, Mr. Beedle, but—” and so forth. Nothing will cool a man quicker than respect and esteem, unless it is a wet blanket. But let Huldah alone, she had her eyes upon Deacon Carpenter all the time.

Well, as I was going moping along home, from Squire Jones’s, I fell in with Doctor Dingley. The Doctor saw in a minute that something was the matter, and he went to work and pumped the whole secret out of me. Then he seemed so friendly, that I up and told him all my experience with the women, from the beginning to the end.

“Well, John,” says he, “I advise you now to wait till the twenty-ninth of February, when the gals turn round and courted the fellows. It’s none of my business, but, I wouldn’t let the women make a fool of me any more.”

Well, I took a resolution, and I stuck to it firm; for when I once set up my ebenezer, I am just like a mountain. I stuck to it along pretty well into January, when I had to go to singing school. I must go to singing school, for I was leader in treble, and there was no carrying on the parts without me. But this was nothing, if it hadn’t fell to my lot to go home with Hannah Peabody, four times running. Politeness before everything. Well, she kept growing prettier and prettier every time, but I only grit my teeth and held on the harder.

By and by, Sabbath-day night came round, and I felt a sort of uneasy, moping about home; and, says I, this resolution will never set well on my stomach without air and exercise; and before I had done thinking of this, I was more than half way to Captain Peabody’s. It was about daylight down as I was passing by the kitchen; but hearing a sort of snickering inside, I slipped up and peeped into the window, just out of curiosity.

There was no candle burning, for Mrs. Peabody is saving of tallow, but I could see Hannah and Pol Partridge, the help, telling fortunes in the ashes by firelight. I turned round to go off, and run right against Jack Robinson. Jack was come to sit up with the help, and would insist upon it, I should go in and see Hannah—“She hasn’t had a spark this month,” says he, “and in you shall go, or I’ll lick ye.”

Well, there was no dodging here, and all I had to do was to grin and bear it. So in I went, and once in, good bye to resolution. The short and the long of it, I was soon as deep in the mud as I had been in the mire. But I had another guess chap to deal with than Sally Jones now. And here was now the difference between them. Where you got a slap in the chops from Sal, Hannah kep ye off with a scowl and a cock up of the nose. And Madam couldn’t bear handling. With her, it was talk is talk, but hands off, Mister.

But I rather guess I had cut my eye-teeth by this time. If I hadn’t learnt something about the nature of the women, the kicks I had taken from all quarters fell upon barren ground. There is no way to deal with them but to coax and flatter; you gain nothing, let me tell ye, by saving of soft soap; and you must be sly about it. It is no way to catch a wicked devil of a colt, in a pasture, to march right up, bridle in hand; you must sort of sidle along as if you was going past, and whistle, and pretend to be looking tother way; and so round and round, till at last you corner him up; then jump and clench him by the forelock. O! I’m not so great a fool as I might be.

But it was a long tedious business before Hannah and I could come to any sort of understanding. There was old Captain Peabody was a stump in my way. He was a man that had no regard for politeness; he travelled rough-shod through the town, carrying a high head and a stiff upper lip, as much as to say: “I owes nobody nothing, by——.” He had been a skipper and sailed his schooner all along ashore, till he had got forehanded; then went back, up country, and set down to farming. But I never tuckle to man, if he’s as big as all out-doors. And after he poked his fist in my face, one ’lection, we never hitched horses together.

Well, as I was afeard to go to the house, and court Hannah in the regular way, I had to carry on the war just when and where I could; sometimes of a dark night, I could steal into the kitchen. But my safest plan was, to track her to the neighbour’s house, where she went to spend the evenings; skulk about till she started home, then waylay her on the road. Pretty poor chance this, you’ll say. But if this wasn’t enough, Hannah herself must join in to plague me half to death.

You see I wanted to let her know what I was after in a sort of a delicate under-hand way, and keep myself on the safe side of the fence all the time, if there was to be any kicking. But Hannah had no notion of riddles; she would not understand any sort of plain English. I hinted plagy suspicions about true love, and Cupid’s darts, and all that. Then I would breathe a long sithe, and say: “What does that mean, Hannah?” But no, she couldn’t see, poor soul; she looked as simple an’ innocent all the while as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.

She was plaguy close, too, as to her goings and comings; and if she happened any time by accident to let drop the least word that show’d me where to find her next time, she was so mad with herself that she was ready to bite her tongue off.

One day she was going to her Aunt Molly’s to spend the evening, and she went all the way round to Dr. Dingley’s to tell Mrs. Dingley not to tell me. “For,” says she, “I don’t want him to be dodging me about everywhere.” Well, Mrs. Dingley, she promised to keep dark, but she told the Doctor, and what does the Doctor do, but comes right straight over and tells me, “Gone all stark alone,” says he, “but it’s none of my business.”

This is the day that I have marked with a piece of chalk. Hardly was daylight down before I was snug in my skulking nest, in Aunt Molly’s barn. It was on the hay-mow, where there was a knot-hole handy to look through and see all that went in or out of the house. I had a scheme in my head that Hannah little dreamt of; and I lay and I thought it over till she came out; and when I got her under my arm, and walking down the lane, thinks I, I’ll set the stone a-rolling anyhow, let it stop where it will.

So I set on to talking about this and that and tother thing, and happened (by mere chance, you know) to mention our old hatter shop, that stands at the corner, that my father used to work in when he was alive. “And,” says I, “speaking of the shop, always puts me in mind of you, Hannah.”

“Of me, John?” says she. “Why?”

“O! it’s just the thing for a store,” says I.

“Well?”

“Sweep out the dirt, and old hat pairings, and truck—”

“Well?”

“Take the sign; rub out ‘Hatter,’ and put in ‘Merchant;’ and that spells ‘John Beedle, Merchant—’ ”

“Well, John?”

“Then get rum and molasses, and salt-fish, and ribbonds and calicoes—”

“O!” says she, “it’s my new calico gownd you was a-thinking of. Ain’t it pretty?”

“Oh!” says I “ ’tis a sweet pretty gownd,” says I. “But—I finally concluded to set up store and get married, and settle myself down as a merchant for life—”

At this, Hannah hung down her head and gave a snicker. “And how does all that put you in mind of me, John?” says she.

“Guess.”

“I won’t guess to touch to, so there now—I never!”

What I said, and what she said next, is all lost, for I’ll be shot if I can remember. It’s all buz, buz, in my head, like a dream. The first thing I knew, we were right again Captain Peabody’s barn, walking as close together as we could with comfort, and our arms crossed round each other’s waist. Hannah’s tongue had got thawed out, and was running like a brook on a freshet, and all one steady stream of honey. I vow, I was ready to jump out of my skin.

It was a mile and a half from Aunt Molly’s to Captain Peabody’s, and I thought we had been about a minute on the road. So says I: “Hannah, let’s go set down under the great apple-tree and have-a little chat, just to taper off the evening.” We now sat down and began to talk sensible. We settled all the predicaments of the nuptial ceremony, and then talked over the store till we thought we saw ourselves behind the counter; I weighing and measuring, and dickering and dealing out, and she, at the desk, pen in hand, figuring up the accounts. “And mind, John,” says she, “I’m not a-going to trust everybody at the corner, I tell ye.” But just as we were beginning to get sociable, as I thought, Hannah looks up, and says she: “What can that ’ere great red streak be, in the sky, away down there beyond Sacarrap?”

“I rather guess,” says I, “it’s a fire in the woods.”

“Fire in the woods! I’ll be skinned if it isn’t daylight a-coming. Quick, John, help me into the window before father’s a-stirring, or here’ll be a pretty how d’ye do.”

The next job was to tell the news to Captain Peabody. Hannah had settled it that she should speak to her mother, and said she could manage her well enough, and it was my business to ask her father. This was a thing easier said than done. It stuck in my crop for days, like a raw onion. I tried to persuade Hannah to marry fust, and ask afterwards. Says I: “You are twenty-four, and free according to law.” But she wouldn’t hear to it. She had no notion of doing anything clandestinely. Then I asked Doctor Dingley to go and break the ice for me. But no: he would not meddle with other folks’ business—he made it a point.

“Well,” says I, “if I have got to come to the scratch, the less I consider on it the better.” So one stormy day I put my head down against a north-easter, and set my feet a-going; and the next thing I was standing right before Captain Peabody. He was in his grain-house, shelling corn, sitting on a tub, with an old frying-pan stuck through the handles; and he made the cobs fly every which way, hit or miss—he didn’t care. But it tickled him so to see me dodge ’em, that he got into uncommon good humour.

“Well, Johnny Beedle, what has bro’t you up here, right into the wind’s eye, this ere morning?”

“Why, Cap’m, I’ve got an idea in my head.”

“No! how you talk!”

“Ye see, the upshot of the matter is, I’ve a notion of setting up a store, and getting a wife, and settling myself down as a merchant.”

“Whoorah, John, there’s two ideas—a store and a wife.”

“But I want a little of your help,” says I.

“Well, John,” says he, “I’ll do the handsome thing by ye. If you keep better goods than anybody else, and sell cheaper, you shall have my custom, and welcome, provided you’ll take pay in sauce and things. Isn’t that fair?”

“O, yes, Cap’m.”

“And I wish you success, on the other tack. No fear of that, I’ll warrant. There’s lots of silly girls afloat; and such a fine, taught-rigged gen’man as you are, can run one down in no time.”

“O, yes, Cap’m; I have run down Hannah already.”

“My Hannah?”

“O, yes, Cap’m; we have agreed, and only want your consent.”

With this the old Cap’m ris right up on eend, upset the tub and frying-pan, and pointed with a great red ear of corn in his hand, towards the door, without saying a word; but his eyes rolled like all creation!

This raised my blood, that I felt so stuffy, that I marched right straight off, and never turned my head to the right or left, till I was fairly home and housed.

“Well now,” says I, “my apple-cart is upset in good earnest.” And when I went to Doctor Dingley for comfort, says he, “John, I wash my hands of this whole affair, from beginning to end. I must support my character. I am a settled doctor in this town; and the character of a doctor, John, is too delicate a flower to go poking round, and dabbling into everybody’s mess. Then,” says he, “Mrs. Dingley, I warn you not to meddle nor make in this business. Let everybody skin their own eels. Hold your tongue, you fool, you. Did you ever hear of me burning my fingers?”

Howsomever, there was some under-hand work carried on somewhere, and by somebody. I don’t tell tales out of school. I had no hand in it, till one day, Dr. Dingley, says he, “John, if you happen to be wanting my horse and shay, this afternoon, about three o’clock, go and take it. I never refused to lend, you know. And I hope Captain Peabody will gain his law-suit with Deacon Carpenter, that he has gone down to Portland to see to. But that’s none of my business.”

Somebody, too—I don’t say who—there was a certain Squire Darling, living in a certain town, about ten miles off, that did business, and asked no questions. Well, in the said town, just after sundown, a young man, named Joseph Morey, was walking near the meeten-house, with a sort of cream-coloured book under his arm; and he heard something in the woods, this side, that, if it wasn’t a hurricane, he’d give up guessing. Such a cracking, and squeaking, and rattling!—such a thrashing, and grunting, and snorting!—you never! He stopped, and looked back, and all soon came to light. There was an old white-faced horse came scrabbling along out of the woods, reeling and foaming, with an old wooded top shay at his tail, and a chap about my size flourishing a small beach-pole, pretty well boomed up at the end. And, says I, “Mister, can you tell me where one Squire Darling lives?”

“Which Squire Darling?” says he; “there’s two of the name.”

“His name is John,” says I.

“Faith,” says he, “they are both Johns too; but one is a lawyer, and the other a cooper.”

“O, it must be the lawyer that I want,” says I.

With this, the young man gave a squint at Hannah, and a wink at me; and “Come along,” says he, “I am going right there now, and I’ll show you the Squire, and fix things for ye.”

“Hannah,” says I, “that’s lucky.”

Well, he carried us into a small, one-story house, a little further on, full of books and dust, and smelling of strong, old dead tobacco-smoke. Here we sat down, while he went out about our business. We waited and waited, till long after dark, and were glad enough to see him come back at last with a candle. “The Squire is very sick,” says he, “but I have over-persuaded him.” And the next minute, Squire came grunting along in, all muffled by in a great-coat, and spectacles on, and a great tall woman, as witness for the bride.

Well, he went to work, and married us, and followed up with a right down sensible sermon, about multiplying and increasing on the earth; and I never felt so solemn and serious. Then followed kissing the bride all round, the certificate; and then I gave him two silver dollars, and we got into the shay again, and off.

After this, nothing happened, to speak of, for about a month. Everything was kept snug, and Captain Peabody had no suspicion; but one morning, at break of day, as I was creeping softly down Captain Peabody’s back-stairs, with my shoes in my hand, as usual, I trod into a tub of water, standing on the third step from the bottom, and down I came, slam bang. The Captain was going to kill his hogs, and had got up betimes; put his water to heat, and was whetting his butcher-knife in the kitchen.

The first thing I saw, when I looked up, there stood Captain Peabody, with a great butcher-knife in his hand, looking down upon me like a thundercloud! I want to know if I didn’t feel streaked! He clinched me by the collar, and stood me up; and then raised his knife over me, as far as he could reach. I thought my last moment was come. Blood would have been shed, as sure as rats, if it hadn’t been for Mrs. Peabody. She stepped up behind, and laid hold of his arm; and says she, “It’s no matter, Mr. Peabody; they are married.”

“Married to that puppy?” roared the Captain.

“Yes, Sir,” said I; “and here’s the certificate.”

And I pulled it out of my jacket-pocket, and gave it to him; but I didn’t stay for any more ceremony. As soon as I felt his gripe loosen a little, I slid off like an eel, and backed out-doors, and made track home, about as fast as I could leg it. I was in a constant worry and stew all the forenoon, for fear the Captain would do anything rash; and I could neither sit still, nor stand still, eat, drink, or think.

About the middle of the afternoon, Dr. Dingley came bouncing in, out of breath, and says he, “John, you have been cheated and bamboozled. Your marriage ain’t worth that. It was all a contrivance of Jack Darling, the lawyer, and his two imps, Joe Morey and Peter Scamp.” This was all he could say, till he had wiped his face, and taken a swig of cider, to recover his wind; and then he gave me all the particulars.

When Captain Peabody had read my certificate, he could not rest, but tackled up, and drove right down, to let off his fury upon his old friend, Squire Darling. The moment he got sight of the Squire, he turned to and called him all the foul names he could lay his tongue to, for half an hour.

The Squire denied everything. The Captain downed the certificate, and says he, “There’s black and white against ye, you bloody old sculpen.”

The Squire knew the hand-writing was his nephew’s, as soon as he saw it, and the truth was brought to light; but as the storm fell in one quarter, it rose from the other. Squire Darling had smelt tar in his day, and hadn’t forgot how to box the compass; and as soon as the saddle was on the right horse, he set in and gave the Captain his own back again, and let him have it about nor-nor-west, right in his teeth, till he was fairly blown out. They shook hands then, and seeing Hannah and I had got under-weigh together, they said we must go to the Vice, and no time must be lost in making all fast in the lashings, with a good, fine square knot, before a change in the weather. So the Squire slicked up a little, got into the shay, and came home with the Captain, to hold the wedding that very night.

How Dr. Dingley happened to be in town, just at the time, I don’t know. It was his luck; and as soon as he saw which way the wind was, he licked up and cantered home in a hurry. After he had got through with the particulars, says he, “Now, Mr. Beedle, it’s none of my business; but if I had such a hitch upon Captain Peabody, I would hang back like a stone dray, till he agreed to back my note for two hundred dollars, in the Portland Bank, to buy goods with, enough to set you up in the store.”

I thought strong on this idea, as I was going over to Captain Peabody’s; but the moment I show the least symptoms of packing, such a storm was raised as never was seen. Father, and mother-in-law, and Squire Darling, set up such a yell altogether; and, poor Hannah, she sat down and cried. My heart failed me, and I made haste to give in and plead sorry, as quick as possible; and somehow, in my hurry, I let out that Dr. Dingley had set me on; and so was the innocent cause of his getting a most righteous licking, the first time Captain Peabody caught him. It wasn’t settled short of thirty dollars.

Well, Squire Darling stood us up, and married us about right, and here was an end of trouble. Mother-in-law would not part with Hannah, and she made father-in-law give us a settling out in the north end of his house. He could not stomach me very well for a while, but I have managed to get on the blind side of him. I turned right in to work on his farm, as steady and industrious as a cart-horse. And I kept on pleasing him in one way and another, more and more, till he has taken such a liking to me, that he wouldn’t part with me for a cow. He owns that I save him the hire of a help—out and out—the year round.

There—now I have done. I can’t patronise the newspapers any more. I have enough to do that is more profitable about home. Betwixt hard work in the fields, and chores about house and barn, and hog pens, I can’t call a minute my own, summer nor winter. And just so sartain as my wife sees me come in and set down to take a little comfort, just so sartain is she to come right up and give me a baby to hold.

Noty Binny. The stories that are going the rounds, from mouth to mouth, about my fust marriage, are all packs of lies, invented by Joe Morey and Peter Scamp, jest to make folk laugh at my expense.

[9]	By W. J. McClintoch.