University of Virginia Library

4. CHAPTER IV.
CHRISTOPHER CROTCHET.

Your New England country singing-master is a
peculiar character; who shall venture to describe
him? During his stay in a country village, he is the
most important personage in it. The common school-master,
to be sure, is a man of dignity and importance.
Children never pass him on the road without
turning square round, pulling off their hats, and
making one of their best and most profound bows.
He is looked up to with universal deference both by
young and old, and is often invited out to tea. Or,
if he “boards round,” great is the parade, and great
the preparation, by each family, when their “week
for boarding the master” draws near. Then not
unfrequently a well fatted porker is killed, and the
spare-ribs are duly hung round the pantry in readiness
for roasting. A half bushel of sausages are
made up into “links,” and suspended on a pole near
the ceiling from one end of the kitchen to the other.

And the Saturday beforehand, if the school-master is
to come on Monday, the work of preparation reaches
its crisis. Then it is, that the old oven, if it be not
“heaten seven times hotter than it is wont to be,” is
at least heated seven times; and apple-pies, and
pumpkin-pies, and mince-pies are turned out by
dozens, and packed away in closet and cellar for
the coming week. And the “fore room,” which has
not had a fire in it for the winter, is now duly washed
and scrubbed and put to rights, and wood is heaped
on the fire with a liberal hand, till the room itself
becomes almost another oven. George is up betimes
on Monday morning to go with his hand-sled and
bring the master's trunk; Betsey and Sally are rigged
out in their best calico gowns, the little ones have their
faces washed and their hair combed with more than
ordinary care, and the mother's cap has an extra
crimp. And all this stir and preparation for the
common school-master. And yet he is but an everyday
planet, that moves in a regular orbit, and comes
round at least every winter.

But the singing-master is your true comet.
Appearing at no regular intervals, he comes suddenly,
and often unexpected. Brilliant, mysterious
and erratic, no wonder that he attracts all eyes, and

produces a tremendous sensation. Not only the children,
but the whole family, flock to the windows
when he passes, and a face may be seen at every pane
of glass, eagerly peering out to catch a glimpse of
the singing-master. Even the very dogs seem to
partake of the awe he inspires, and bark with
uncommon fierceness whenever they meet him.

“O, father,” said little Jimmy Brown, as he came
running into the house on a cold December night,
with eyes staring wide open, and panting for breath.
“O, father, Mr. Christopher Crotchet from Quavertown,
is over to Mr. Gibbs' tavern, come to see about
keeping singing-school; and Mr. Gibbs, and a whole
parcel more of 'em, wants you to come right over
there, cause they're goin' to have a meeting this
evening to see about hiring of him.”

Squire Brown and his family, all except Jimmy,
were seated round the supper table when this interesting
piece of intelligence was announced. Every
one save Squire Brown himself, gave a sudden start,
and at once suspended operations; but the Squire,
who was a very moderate man, and never did anything
from impulse, ate on without turning his head,
or changing his position. After a short pause, however,
which was a moment of intense anxiety to some

members of the family, he replied to Jimmy as
follows:—

“I shan't do no sich thing; if they want a singing-school,
they may get it themselves. A singing-school
won't do us no good, and I've ways enough to spend
my money without paying it for singing.” Turning
his head round and casting a severe look upon
Jimmy, he proceeded with increasing energy:

“Now, sir, hang your hat up and set down and
eat your supper; I should like to know what sent
you off over to the tavern without leave.”

“I wanted to see the singing-master,” said Jimmy.
“Sam Gibbs said there was a singing-master over to
their house, and so I wanted to see him.”

“Well, I'll singing-master you,” said the Squire,
“if I catch you to go off so again without leave.
Come, don't stand there; set down and eat your
supper, or I'll trounce you in two minutes.”

“There, I declare,” said Mrs. Brown, “I do think
it too bad. I do wish I could live in peace one
moment of my life. The children will be spoilt and
ruined. They never can stir a step nor hardly
breathe, but what they must be scolded and fretted
to death.”

Squire Brown had been accustomed to these

sudden squalls about twenty-five years, they having
commenced some six months or so after his marriage;
and long experience had taught him, that the only
way to escape with safety, was to bear away immediately
and scud before the wind. Accordingly he
turned again to Jimmy, and with a much softened
tone addressed him as follows:—

“Come, Jimmy, my son, set down and eat your
supper, that's a good boy. You shouldn't go away
without asking your mother or me; but you'll try to
remember next time, won't you?”

Jimmy and his mother were both somewhat
soothed by this well-timed suavity, and the boy took
his seat at the table.

“Now, pa,” said Miss Jerusha Brown, “you will
go over and see about having a singing-school, won't
you? I want to go dreadfully?”

“Oh, I can't do anything about that,” said the
Squire; “it'll cost a good deal of money, and I can't
afford it. And besides, there's no use at all in it.
You can sing enough now, any of you; you are singing
half your time.”

“There,” said Mrs. Brown, “that's just the way.
Our children will never have a chance to be anything
as long as they live. Other folks' children have a

chance to go to singing-schools, and to see young
company, and to be something in the world. Here's
our Jerusha has got to be in her twenty-fifth year
now, and if she's ever going to have young company,
and have a chance to be anything, she must have it
soon; for she'll be past the time bime-by for sich
things. 'Tisn't as if we was poor and couldn't afford
it; for you know, Mr. Brown, you pay the largest tax
of anybody in the town, and can afford to give the
children a chance to be something in the world, as
well as not. And as for living in this kind of way
any longer, I've no notion on't.”

Mrs. Brown knew how to follow up an advantage.
She had got her husband upon the retreat in the onset
a moment before, in reference to Jimmy's absence,
and the closing part of this last speech was uttered
with an energy and determination, of which Squire
Brown knew too well the import to disregard it.
Perceiving that a storm was brewing that would
burst upon his head with tremendous power, if he
did not take care to avoid it, he finished his supper
with all convenient despatch, rose from the table, put
on his grea coat and hat, and marched deliberately
over to Gibbs' tavern. Mrs. Brown knew at once
that she had won the victory, and that they should

have a singing-school. The children also had become
so well versed in the science of their mother's tactics,
that they understood the same thing, and immediately
began to discuss matters preparatory to attending the
school.

Miss Jerusha said she must have her new calico
gown made right up the next day; and her mother
said she should, and David might go right over after
Betsey Davis to come to work on it the next
morning.

“How delightful it will be to have a singing
school,” said Miss Jerusha: “Jimmy, what sort of a
looking man is Mr. Crotchet?”

“Oh, he is a slick kind of a looking man,” said
Jimmy.

“Is he a young man, or a married man?” inquired
Miss Jerusha.

“Ho! married? no; I guess he isn't,” said Jimmy,
“I don't believe he's more than twenty years old.”

“Poh; I don't believe that story,” said Jerusha,
a singing-master must be as much as twenty-five
years old, I know! How is he dressed? Isn't he
dressed quite genteel?”

“Oh, he's dressed pretty slick,” said Jimmy.

“Well, that's what makes him look so young,” said

Miss Jerusha; “I dare say he's as much as twenty-five
years old; don't you think he is, mother?”

“Well, I think it's pretty likely he is,” said Mrs.
Brown; “singing-masters are generally about that age.”

“How does he look?” said Miss Jerusha; “is he
handsome?”

“He's handsome enough,” said Jimmy, “only he's
got a red head and freckly face.”

“Now, Jim, I don't believe a word you say. You
are saying this, only just to plague me.”

To understand the propriety of this last remark of
Miss Jerusha, the reader should be informed, that for
the last ten years she had looked upon every young
man who came into the place, as her own peculiar
property. And in all cases, in order to obtain possession
of her aforesaid property, she had adopted
prompt measures, and pursued them with a diligence
worthy of all praise.

“No I ain't neither,” said Jimmy, “I say he has
got a red head and freckly face.”

“La, well,” said Mrs. Brown, “what if he has?
I'm sure a red head don't look bad; and one of the
handsomest men that ever I see, had a freckly face.”

“Well, Jimmy, how large is he? Is he a tall man
or a short man?” said Miss Jerusha.

“Why, he isn't bigger round than I be,” said
Jimmy; “and I guess he isn't quite as tall as a haypole;
but he's so tall he has to stoop when he goes
into the door.”

So far from adding to the shock, which Miss Jerusha's
nerves had already received from the account of
the red head and freckly face, this last piece of intelligence
was on the whole rather consolatory; for she
lacked but an inch and a half of six feet in height
herself.

“Well, Jimmy,” said Miss Jerusha, “when he
stands up, take him altogether, isn't he a good-looking
young man?”

“I don't know anything about that,” said Jimmy;
“he looks the most like the tongs in the riddle, of
anything I can think of:

“There, Jim, you little plague,” said Miss Jerusha,
“you shall go right off to bed if you don't leave off
your nonsense. I won't hear another word of it.”

“I don't care if you won't,” said Jimmy, “it's all
true, every word of it.”

“What! then the singing-master hasn't got no eyes,
has he?” said Miss Jerusha; “that's a pretty story.”

“I don't mean he hasn't got no eyes at all,” said
Jimmy, “only his eyes are dreadful little, and you
can't see but one of 'em to time neither, they're
twisted round so.”

“A little cross-eyed, I s'pose,” said Mrs. Brown,
“that's all; I don't think that hurts the looks of a
man a bit; it only makes him look a little sharper.”

While those things were transpiring at Mr. Brown's,
matters of weight and importance were being
discussed at the tavern. About a dozen of the
neighbors had collected there early in the evening,
and every one, as soon as he found that Mr. Christopher
Crotchet from Quavertown was in the village,
was for having a singing-school forthwith, cost what
it would. They accordingly proceeded at once to
ascertain Mr. Crotchet's terms. His proposals were,
to keep twenty evenings for twenty dollars and
“found,” or for thirty and board himself. The school
to be kept three evenings in the week. A subscription-paper
was opened, and the sum of fifteen dollars
was at last made up. But that was the extent to
which they could go; not another dollar could be
raised. Much anxiety was now felt for the arrival of
Squire Brown; for the question of school or no
school depended entirely on him.

“Squire Brown's got money enough,” said Mr.
Gibbs, “and if he only has the will, we shall have a
school.”

“Not exactly,” said Mr. Jones; “if Mrs. Brown
has the will, we shall have a school, let the Squire's
will be what it may.”

Before the laugh occasioned by this last remark
had fully subsided, Squire Brown entered, much to
the joy of the whole company.

“Squire Brown, I'm glad to see you,” said Mr.
Gibbs; “shall I introduce you to Mr. Christopher
Crotchet, singing-master from Quavertown?”

The Squire was a very short man, somewhat
inclined to corpulence, and Mr. Crotchet, according
to Jimmy's account, was not quite as tall as a haypole;
so that by dint of the Squire's throwing his
head back and looking up, and Mr. Crotchet's canting
his head on one side in order to bring one eye to
bear on the Squire, the parties were brought within
each other's field of vision. The Squire made a bow,
which was done by throwing his head upward,
and Mr. Crotchet returned the compliment by
extending his arm downward to the Squire and shaking
hands.

When the ceremony of introduction was over, Mr.

Gibbs laid the whole matter before Mr. Brown,
showed him the subscription-paper, and told him
they were all depending upon him to decide whether
they should have a singing-school or not. Squire
Brown put on his spectacles and read the subscription-paper
over two or three times, till he fully understood
the terms, and the deficiency in the amount
subscribed. Then without saying a word he took a
pen and deliberately subscribed five dollars. That
settled the business; the desired sum was raised, and
the school was to go ahead. It was agreed that
it should commence on the following evening, and
that Mr. Crotchet should board with Mr. Gibbs one
week, with the Squire the next, and so go round
through the neighborhood.

On the following day there was no small commotion
among the young folks of the village, in making preparation
for the evening school. New singing-books
were purchased, dresses were prepared, curling-tongs
and crimping-irons were put in requisition, and early
in the evening the long chamber in Gibbs' tavern,
which was called by way of eminence “the hall,”
was well filled by youth of both sexes, the old folks
not being allowed to attend that evening, lest the
`boys and gals” should be diffident about “sounding

the notes.” A range of long narrow tables was
placed round three sides of the hall, with benches
behind them, upon which the youth were seated. A
singing-book and a candle were shared by two, all
round the room, till you came to Miss Jerusha Brown,
who had taken the uppermost seat, and monopolized
a whole book and a whole candle to her own use.
Betsey Buck, a lively, reckless sort of a girl of sixteen,
who cared for nobody nor nothing in this world, but
was full of frolic and fun, had by chance taken a seat
next to Miss Jerusha. Miss Betsey had a slight inward
turn of one eye, just enough to give her a
roguish look, that comported well with her character.

While they were waiting for the entrance of the
master, many a suppressed laugh, and now and then
an audible giggle, passed round the room, the mere
ebullitions of buoyant spirits and contagious mirth,
without aim or object. Miss Jerusha, who was trying
to behave her prettiest, repeatedly chided their
rudeness, and more than once told Miss Betsey Buck,
that she ought to be ashamed to be laughing so much;
“for what would Mr. Crotchet think, if he should
come in and find them all of a giggle?”

After a while the door opened, and Mr. Christopher
Crotchet entered. He bent his body slightly,

as he passed the door, to prevent a concussion of his
head against the lintel, and then walked very erect
into the middle of the floor, and made a short speech
to his class. His grotesque appearance caused a slight
tittering round the room, and Miss Betsey was even
guilty of an incipient audible laugh, which, however,
she had the tact so far to turn into a cough as to save
appearances. Still it was observed by Miss Jerusha,
who told her again in a low whisper that she ought
to be ashamed, and added that “Mr. Crotchet was a
most splendid man; a beautiful man.”

After Mr. Crotchet had made his introductory
speech, he proceeded to try the voices of his pupils,
making each one alone follow him in rising and falling
the notes. He passed round without difficulty till
he came to Miss Betsey Buck. She rather hesitated
to let her voice be heard alone; but the master told
her she must sound, and holding his head down so
close to hers that they almost met, he commenced
pouring his faw, sole, law, into her ear. Miss Betsey
drew back a little, but followed with a low and somewhat
tremulous voice, till she had sounded three
or four notes, when her risible muscles got the
mastery, and she burst out in an unrestrained fit of
laughter.

The master looked confused and cross; and Miss
Jerusha even looked crosser than the master. She
again reproached Miss Betsey for her rudeness, and
told her in an emphatic whisper, which was intended
more especially for the master's ear, “that such conduct
was shameful, and if she couldn't behave better
she ought to stay at home.”

Miss Jerusha's turn to sound came next, and she
leaned her head full half-way across the table to meet
the master's, and sounded the notes clear through,
three or four times over, from bottom to top and
from top to bottom; and sounded them with a
loudness and trength fully equal to that of the
master.

When the process of sounding the voices separately
had been gone through with, they were called upon
to sound together; and before the close of the evening
they were allowed to commence the notes of some
easy tunes. It is unnecessary here to give a detailed
account of the progress that was made, or to attempt
to describe the jargon of strange sounds, with which
Gibbs' hall echoed that night. Suffice it to say, that
the proficiency of the pupils was so great, that on the
tenth evening, or when the school was half through,
the parents were permitted to be present, and were

delighted to hear their children sing Old Hundred,
Mear, St. Martin's, Northfield, and Hallowell, with so
much accuracy, that those who knew the tunes, could
readily tell, every time, which one was being performed.
Mrs. Brown was almost in ecstasies at
the performance, and sat the whole evening and
looked at Jerusha, who sung with great earnestness
and with a voice far above all the rest. Even
Squire Brown himself was so much softened that
evening, that his face wore a sort of smile, and he
told his wife “he didn't grudge his five dollars, a
bit.”

The school went on swimmingly. Mr. Crotchet
became the lion of the village; and Miss Jerusha
Brown “thought he improved upon acquaintance
astonishingly.” Great preparation was made at Squire
Brown's for the important week of boarding the singing-master.
They outdid all the village in the quantity
and variety of their eatables, and at every meal
Miss Jerusha was particularly assiduous in placing
all the good things in the neighborhood of Mr. Crotchet's
plate. In fact, so bountifully and regularly was
Mr. Crotchet stuffed during the week, that his lank
form began to assume a perceptible fulness. He evidently
seemed very fond of his boarding-place, especially

at meal time; and made himself so much at
home, that Mrs. Brown and Jerusha were in a state
of absolute felicity the whole week. It was true he
spent two evenings abroad during the week, and it
was reported that one of them was passed at Mr.
Buck's. But Miss Jerusha would not believe a word
of such a story. She said “there was no young folks
at Mr. Buck's except Betsey, and she was sure Mr.
Crotchet was a man of more sense than to spend his
evenings with such a wild, rude thing as Betsey
Buck.” Still, however, the report gave her a little
uneasiness; and when it was ascertained, that during
the week on which Mr. Crotchet boarded at Mr.
Buck's he spent every evening at home, except the
three devoted to the singing-school, Miss Jerusha's
uneasiness evidently increased. She resolved to make
a desperate effort to counteract these untoward influences,
and to teach Miss Betsey Buck not to interfere
with other folk's concerns. For this purpose she
made a grand evening party, and invited all the young
folks of the village, except Miss Buck, who was pointedly
left out. The treat was elaborate for a country
village, and Miss Jerusha was uncommonly assiduous
in her attentions to Mr. Crotchet during the evening.
But to her inexpressible surprise and chagrin, about
eight o'clock, Mr. Crotchet put on his hat and great
coat and bade the company good night. Mrs. Brown
looked very blue, and Miss Jerusha's nerves were in
a state of high excitement. What could it mean?
She would give anything in the world to know where
he had gone. She ran up into the chamber and
looked out from the window. The night was rather
dark, but she fancied she saw him making his way
toward Mr. Buck's. The company for the remainder
of the evening had rather a dull time; and Miss
Jerusha passed almost a sleepless night.

The next evening Miss Jerusha was early at the
singing-school. She took her seat with a disconsolate
air, opened her singing-book and commenced singing
Hallowell in the following words:

On former occasions, when the scholars were
singing before school commenced, the moment the
master opened the door they broke off short, even if
they were in the midst of a tune. But now, when
the master entered, Miss Jerusha kept on singing.
She went through the whole tune after Mr. Crotchet

came in, and went back and repeated the latter half
of it with a loud and full voice, which caused a laugh
among the scholars, and divers streaks of red to pass
over the master's face.

At the close of the evening's exercises Miss Jerusha
hurried on her shawl and bonnet, and watched
the movements of the master. She perceived he
went out directly after Betsey Buck, and she hastened
after them with becoming speed. She contrived to
get between Miss Buck and the master as they
walked along the road, and kept Mr. Crotchet in close
conversation with her, or rather kept herself in close
conversation with Mr. Crotchet, till they came to the
corner that turned down to Mr. Buck's house. Here
Mr. Crotchet left her somewhat abruptly, and walked
by the side of Miss Betsey towards Mr. Buck's.
This was more than Miss Jerusha's nerves could well
bear. She was under too much excitement to proceed
on her way home. She stopped and gazed after
the couple as they receded from her; and as their
forms became indistinct in the darkness of the night,
she turned and followed them, just keeping them in
view till they reached the house. The door opened,
and to her inexpressible horror, they both went in.
It was past ten o'clock, too! She was greatly

puzzled. The affair was entirely inexplicable to her.
It could not be, however, that he would stop many
minutes, and she waited to see the result. Presently
a light appeared in the “fore-room;” and from the
mellowness of that light, a fire was evidently kindled
there. Miss Jerusha approached the house and
reconnoitred. She tried to look in at the window,
but a thick curtain effectually prevented her from
seeing anything within. The curtain did not reach
quite to the top of the window, and she thought she
saw the shadows of two persons before the fire,
thrown against the ceiling. She was determined by
some means or other to know the worst of it. She
looked round the door-yard and found a long piece of
board. She thought by placing this against the house
by the side of the window, she might be able to
climb up and look over the top of the curtain. The
board was accordingly raised on one end and placed
carefully by the side of the window, and Miss Jerusha
eagerly commenced the task of climbing. She
had reached the top of the curtain and cast one
glance into the room, where, sure enough, she beheld
Mr. Crotchet seated close by the side of Miss Betsey.
At this interesting moment, from some cause or other,
either from her own trembling, for she was exceedingly
agitated, or from the board not being properly
supported at the bottom, it slipped and canted, and in
an instant one half of the window was dashed with a
tremendous crash into the room.

Miss Jerusha fell to the ground, but not being
much injured by the fall, she sprang to her feet and
ran with the fleetness of a wild deer. The door
opened, and out came Mr. Crotchet and Mr. Buck,
and started in the race. They thought they had a
glimpse of some person running up the road when
they first came out, and Mr. Crotchet's long legs
measured off the ground with remarkable velocity.
But the fright had added so essentially to Miss Jerusha's
powers of locomotion, that not even Mr.
Crotchet could overtake her, and her pursuers soon
lost sight of her in the darkness of the night, and
gave up the chase and returned home.

Miss Jerusha was not seen at the singing-school
after this, and Mrs. Brown said she stayed at home
because she had a cough. Notwithstanding there
were many rumors and surmises afloat, and some
slanderous insinuations thrown out against Miss Jerusha
Brown, yet it was never ascertained by the
neighbors, for a certainty, who it was that demolished
Mr. Buck's window.

One item farther remains to be added to this
veritable history; and that is, that in three months
from this memorable night, Miss Betsey Buck became
Mrs. Crotchet of Quavertown.