CHAPTER XLV.
NEW PLANS.
Except Abigail Anderson and one other person, everybody in the littleworld of Clark township approved mightily the justice anddisinterestedness of Andrew. He had righted himself and Julia at astroke, and people dearly love to have justice dealt out when it is notat their own expense. Samuel, who cherished in secret a great love forhis daughter, was more than pleased that affairs had turned out in thisway. But there was one beside Abigail who was not wholly satisfied.August spent half the night in protesting in vain against Andrew'stransfer of the river-farm to him. But Andrew said he had a right togive away his own if he chose. And there was no turning him. For ifAugust refused a share in it, he would give it to Julia, and if sherefused it, he would find somebody who would accept it.
The next day after the settlement at Samuel Anderson's, August came toclaim his wife. Mrs. Abigail had now employed a "help" in Cynthy Ann'splace, and Julia could be spared. August had refused all invitations totake up his temporary residence with Julia's parents. The house hadunpleasant associations in his mind, and he wanted to relieve Julia atonce and forever from a despotism to which she could not offer anyeffectual resistance. Mrs. Anderson had eagerly loaded the wagon withfeather-beds and other bridal property, and sent it over to the castle,that Julia might appear to leave with her blessing. She kissed Juliatenderly, and hoped she'd have a happy life, and told her that if herhusband should ever lose his property or treat her badly--such things_may_ happen, you know--then she would always find a home with hermother. Julia thanked her for the offer of a refuge to which she nevermeant to flee under any circumstances. And yet one never turns away fromone's home without regret, and Julia looked back with tears in her eyesat the chattering swifts whose nests were in the parlor chimney, and atthe pee-wee chirping on the gate-post. The place had entered into herlife. It looked lonesome now, but within a year afterward Normansuddenly married Betsey Malcolm. Betsey's child had died soon after itsbirth, and Mrs. Anderson set herself to manage both Norman and his wife,who took up their abode with her. Nothing but a reign of terror couldhave made either of them of any account, but Mrs. Anderson furnishedthem this in any desirable quantity. They were never of much worth, evenunder her management, but she kept them in bounds, so that Norman ceasedto get drunk more than five or six times a year, and Betsey flirted butlittle and at her peril.
Once the old house was out of sight, there were no shadows on Julia'sface as she looked forward toward the new life. She walked in a stillhappiness by August as they went down through Shady Hollow. August hadintended to show her a letter that he had from the mud-clerk,describing the bringing of Humphreys back to Paducah and his executionby a mob. But there was something so repelling in the gusto with whichthe story was told, and the story was so awful in itself, that he couldnot bear to interrupt the peaceful happiness of this hour by sayinganything about it.
August proposed to Julia that they should take a path through the meadowof the river-farm--their own farm now--and see the foundation of thelittle cottage Andrew had begun for them. And so in happiness theywalked on through the meadow-path to the place on which their home wasto stand. But, alas! there was not a stick of timber left. Everyparticle of the material had been removed. It seemed that some greatdisappointment threatened them at the moment of their happiness. Theyhurried on in silent foreboding to the castle, but there the mystery wasexplained.
"I told you not to tempt me too far," said Andrew. "See! I haveconcluded to build an addition to the castle and let you civilize me. Wewill live together and I will reform. This lonely life is not healthy,and now that I have children, why should I not let them live herewith me?"
Julia looked happy. I have no authentic information in regard to theexact words which she made use of to express her joy, but from what isknown of girls of her age in general, it is safe to infer that sheexclaimed, "Oh! I'm so glad!"
While Andrew stood there smiling, with Julia near him, August havinggone to the assistance of the carpenters in a matter demanding a littlemore ingenuity than they possessed, Jonas came up and drew thePhilosopher aside. Julia could not hear what was said, but she sawAndrew's brow contract.
"I'll shoot as sure as they come!" he said with passion. "I won't havemy niece or August insulted in my house by a parcel of vagabonds."
"O Uncle Andrew! is it a shiveree?" asked Julia.
"Yes."
"Well, don't shoot. It'll be so funny to have a shiveree."
"But it is an insult to you and to August and to me. This is meantespecially to be an expression of their feeling toward August as aGerman, though really their envy of his good fortune has much to do withit. It is a second edition of the riot of last spring, in which Gottliebcame so near to being killed. Now, I mean to do my country service byleaving one or two less of them alive if they come here to-night." ForAndrew was full of that destructive energy so characteristic of theWestern and Southern people.
"Oh! no, don't shoot. Can't you think of some other way?" pleaded Julia.
"Well, yes, I could get the sheriff to come and bag a few of them."
"And that will make trouble for many years. Let me see. Can't we dothis?" And Julia rapidly unfolded to Andrew and Jonas her plan ofoperations against the enemy.
"Number one!" said Jonas. "They'll fall into that air amby-scade as sureas shootin'. That plan is military and Christian and civilized and humanand angelical and tancy-crumptious. It ort to meet the 'proval of theAmerican Fish-hawk with all his pinions and talents. I'll help toexecute it, and beat the rascals or lay my bones a-bleachin' on thedesert sands of Shady Holler."
"Well," said Andrew to Julia, "I knew, if I took you under my roof,you'd make a Christian of me in spite of myself. And I _am_ a sort ofsavage, that's a fact."
Jonas hurried home and sent Cynthy over to the castle, and there wasmuch work going on that afternoon. Andrew said that the castle was beingmade ready for its first siege. As night came on, Julia was in a perfectglee. Reddened by standing over the stove, with sleeves above her elbowsand her black hair falling down upon her shoulders, she was such apicture that August stopped and stood in the door a minute to look ather as he came in to supper.
"Why, Jule, how glorious you look!" he said. "I've a great mind to fallin love with you, mein Liebchen!"
"And I _have_ fallen in love with _you_, Caesar Augustus!" And well shemight, for surely, as he stood in the door with his well-knit frame, hisfine German forehead, his pure, refined mouth, and his clear, honest,amiable blue eyes, he was a man to fall in love with.
CHAPTER XLVI.
THE SHIVEREE.
If Webster's "American Dictionary of the English Language" had not beenmade wholly in New England, it would not have lacked so many words thatdo duty as native-born or naturalized citizens in large sections of theUnited States, and among these words is the one that stands at the headof the present chapter. I know that some disdainful prig will assure methat it is but a corruption of the French "_charivari,"_ and so it is;but then "_charivari_" is a corruption of the low Latin "_charivarium_"and that is a corruption of something else, and, indeed, almost everyword is a corruption of some other word. So that there is no good reasonwhy "shiveree," which lives in entire unconsciousness of its Frenchparentage and its Latin grand-parentage, should not find its place in an"American Dictionary."
But while I am writing a disquisition on the etymology of the word, the"shiveree" is mustering at Mandluff's store. Bill Day has concluded thathe is in no immediate danger of perdition, and that a man is a "blamedfool to git skeered about his soul." Bob Short is sure the Almighty willnot be too hard on a feller, and so thinks he will go on having "alittle fun" now and then. And among the manly recreations which theyhave proposed to themselves is that of shivereeing "that Dutchman, GusWehle." It is the solemn opinion of the whole crowd that "no Dutchmanhadn't orter be so lucky as to git sech a beauty of a gal and a hundredacres of bottom lands to boot."
The members of the party were all disguised, some in one way and
some inanother, though most of them had their coats inside out. They thought itnecessary to be disguised, "bekase, you know," as Bill Day expressed it,"ole Grizzly is apt to prosecute ef he gits evidence agin you." And manywere the conjectures as to whether he would shoot or not.
The instruments provided by this orchestra were as various as theirmusical tastes. It is likely that even Mr. Jubilee Gilmore never sawsuch an outfit. Bob Short had a dumb-bull, a keg with a strip ofraw-hide stretched across one end like a drum-head, while the otherremained open. A waxed cord inserted in the middle of the drum-head, andreaching down through the keg, completed the instrument. The pulling ofthe hand over this cord made a hideous bellowing, hence its name. BillDay had a gigantic watchman's rattle, a hickory spring on a cog-wheel.It is called in the West, a horse-fiddle, because it is so unlike eithera horse or a fiddle. Then there were melodious tin pans and conch-shellsand tin horns. But the most deadly noise was made by Jim West, who hadtwo iron skillet-lids ("leds" he called them) which, when placed face toface, and rubbed, as you have seen children rub tumblers, made a sounddiscordant and deafening enough to have suggested Milton's expressionabout the hinges which "grated harsh thunder."
One of this party was a tallish man, so dressed as to look like ahunchback, and a hunchback so tall was a most singular figure. He hadjoined them in the dark, and the rest were unable to guess who it couldbe, and he, for his part, would not tell. They thumped him and pushedhim, but at each attack he only leaped from the ground like a circusclown, and made his tin horn utter so doleful a complaint as set theparty in an uproar of laughter. They could not be sure who he was, buthe was a funny fellow to have along with them at any rate.
He was not only funny, but he was evidently fearless. For when they cameto the castle it was all dark and still. Bill Day said that it looked"powerful juberous to him. Ole Andy meant to use shootin'-ir'ns, anddidn't want to be pestered with no lights blazin' in his eyes." But thetall hunchback cleared the fence at a bound, and told them to come on"ef they had the sperrit of a two-weeks-old goslin into 'em." So thebottle was passed round, and for very shame they followed theirungainly leader.
"Looky here, boys," said the hunchback, "they's one way that we can fixit so's ole Grizzly can't shoot. They's a little shop-place, a sort of ashed, agin the house, on the side next to the branch. Let's git in tharafore we begin, and he can't shoot."
The orchestra were a little stupefied with drink, and they took the ideaquickly, never stopping to ask how they could retreat if Andrew chose toshoot. Jim West thought things looked scaly, but he warn't agoin' tobackslide arter he'd got so fur.
When they got into Andrew's shop, where he had a new and beautifulskiff in building, the tall hunchback shut the door, and the rest didnot notice that he put the key in his pocket.
That serenade! Such a medley of discordant sounds, such a clatter andclangor, such a rattle of horse-fiddle, such a bellowing of dumb-bull,such a snorting of tin horns, such a ringing of tin pans, such agrinding of skillet-lids! But the house remained quiet. Once Bill Daythought that he heard a laugh within. Julia may have lost herself-control. She was so happy, and a little unrestrained fun was sostrange a luxury!
At last the door between the house and shop was suddenly opened, andJulia, radiant as she could be, stood on the threshold with a candlein her hand.
"Come in, gentlemen."
But the gentlemen essayed to go out.
"Locked in, by thunder!" said Jim West, trying the outside door of theshop.
"We heard you were coming, gentlemen, and provided a littleentertainment. Come in!"
"Come in, boys," said the hunchback, "don't be afeard of nobody."
Mechanically they followed the hunchback into the room, for there wasnothing else to be done. A smell of hot coffee and the sight of awell-spread table greeted their senses.
"Welcome, my friends, thrice welcome!" said Andrew. "Put down yourinstruments and have some supper."
"Let me relieve you," said Julia, and she took the dumb-bull from BobShort and the "horse-fiddle" from Day, the tin horns and tin pans fromothers, and the two skillet-lids from Jim West, who looked as sheepishas possible. August escorted each of them to the table, though his facedid not look altogether cordial. Some old resentment for the treatmentof his father interfered with the heartiness of his hospitality. Thehunchback in this light proved to be Jonas, of course; and Bill Daywhispered to the one next to him that they had been "tuck in and donefer that time."
"Gentlemen," said Andrew, "we are much obliged for your music." AndCynthy would certainly have laughed out if she had not been so perplexedin her mind to know whether Andrew was speaking the truth.
Such a motley set of wedding guests as they were, with their coatsinside out and their other disguises! Such a race of pied pipers! Andlooking at their hangdog faces you would have said, "Such a lot ofsheep-thieves!" Though why a sheep-thief is considered to be a moreguilty-looking man than any other criminal, I do not know. Jonas lookedbright enough and ridiculous enough with his hunch. They all ate ratherheartily, for how could they resist the attentions of Cynthy Ann and thepersuasions of Julia, who poured them coffee and handed them biscuit,and waited upon them as though they were royal guests! And, moreover,the act of eating served to cover their confusion.
As the meal drew to a close, Bill Day felt that he, being in some sensethe leader of the party, ought to speak. He was not quite sober, thoughhe could stand without much staggering. He had been trying for some timeto frame a little speech, but his faculties did not work smoothly.
"Mr. President--I mean Mr. Anderson--permit me to offer you our pardon.I mean to beg your apologies--to--ahem--hope that our--thatyour--our--thousand--thanks--your--you know what I mean." And he satdown in foolish confusion.
"Oh! yes. All right; much obliged, my friend," said the Philosopher,who had not felt so much boyish animal life in twenty-five years.
And Jim West whispered to Bill: "You expressed my sentiments exactly."
"Mr. Anderson," said Jonas, rising, and thus lifting up his hunchedshoulders and looking the picture of a long-legged heron standing in thewater, "Mr. Anderson, you and our young and happy friend, Mr. Wehle,will accept our thanks. We thought that music was all you wanted to gina delightful--kinder--sorter--well, top-dressin', to this interestin'occasion. Now they's nothin' sweeter'n a tin horn, 'thout 'tis amelodious conch-shell utterin' its voice like a turkle-dove. Then we'vegot the paytent double whirlymagig hoss-violeen, and the tin pannyforte,and, better nor all, the grindin' skelletled cymbals. We've laidourselves out and done our purtiest--hain't we, feller-musicians?--toprove that we was the best band on the Ohio River. An' all out ofaffection and respect for this ere happy pair. And we're all happy to behere. Hain't we?" (Here they all nodded assent, though they looked asthough they wished themselves far enough.) "Our enstruments is a leetleout of toon, owin' to the dampness of the night air, and so I trustyou'll excuse us playin' a farewell piece."
Jim West was so anxious to get away that he took advantage of this turnto say good-evening, and though the mischievous Julia insisted that heshould select his instrument, he had not the face to confess to theskillet-lids, and got out of it by assuring her that he hadn't broughtnothing, "only come along to see the fun." And each member of the partyrepeated the transparent lie, so that Julia found herself supplied withmore musical instruments than any young housekeeper need want, andAndrew hung them, horns, pans, conch-shell, dumb-bull, horse-fiddle,skillet-lids, and all, in his library, as trophies captured fromthe enemy.
Much as I should like to tell you of the later events of thePhilosopher's life, and about Julia and August, and their oldest son,whose name is Andrew, and all that, I do not know that I can do betterthan to bow myself out with the abashed serenaders, letting this musicalepilogue harmoniously close the book; writing just here.
THE END.
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