 | CHAPTER IX. Dukesborough tales |  |
9. CHAPTER IX.
I had to let Mr. Bill expatiate at length upon his surprise and that of
the public at this unexpected match before I could bring him to the
finale. Mr. Bill admitted that he was at first not only embarrassed,
but speechless. He never had expected to live to see the day when
he should be in that condition before Susan Temple. But such it
was. We never know what is before us. The longer a man lives to see
anything, the more he finds that it is a solemn fact that he can't tell
what he may live to see. He had never been so minded of that as at
the present; “leastways” on that blessed and “ontimely” morning.
Mr. Bill was very sorry that Miss Angeline Spouter had not been at
home to share in his astonishment; but she had gone the evening
before to spend the night with Miss Georgiana Pea, friendly and intimate
relations having been fully restored between these ladies.
“When I got so I could open my mouth,” said Mr. Bill, “in cose I
feel like I ought to say somethin, even ef it war but a few lines,
and — ah — some perliminary remarks — so to speak. So I goes up
to Mr. Lively, I does, and I says to him: `Mr. Lively,' says I, `you
has took us all by surprise. And you more so, Susan,' says I; `which
I sposen I ought to say Miss Lively, but which it ar so onexpected
that I begs you'll excuse me.' And then I ax 'em ef Cousin Malviny
know of all sich carrins on. Then Susan she looked skeered. And
I tell you, Philippimon, that gurl look right scrimptious with them fine
things on and them shoes. But Mr. Lively war cool as a summer
evenin like, and he said that he sposen not. Then he say that he
had stop to git his breakfast, him and Susan, and that arfter breakfast
Spouter to send Cousin Malviny word what had become of 'em, and that
they war all safe. And then I tells Mr. Lively that ef it suited him
I would go myself. I tell you, Philip, I wanted to car that news out
thar myself. Mr. Lively he sorter smile, and say he would be much
obleege ef I would. I hurries on to the sto', tells Mr. Jones what's
up, and gits leave to go to Cousin Malviny; and I mighty nigh run all
the way out thar.
“Cousin Malviny war standin at the gate. When I git about
twenty yards from her I stop to catch a little breath. Cousin
Malviny holler out to me: `Has you seen 'em, Cousin William?' I
tried to be calm and cool, and I ax Cousin Malviny to be calm and
cool. And I says, `What's the matter, Cousin Malviny? Ar anything
wrong out here? Seed who?' `Susan,' says Cousin Malviny,
`and Mr. Lively, and Uncle Moses.' `Uncle Moses!!' says I;
`have Uncle Moses gone too?' `Yes,' says Cousin Malviny; `I
sent Moses on John mule to look for 'em when I heerd they was
gone.' At the very minnit here come old Uncle Moses a trottin on up
on John mule; and I don't know which war the tiredest and solemest,
John or old Uncle Moses. Cousin Malviny ax Uncle Moses what
news. `Bad, Missis,' said Uncle Moses, `bad nuff. You see, Missis,
when you tole me git on top o' John an take arter 'em, Missis, I
thought fust they was gwine todes Agusty, for he did start off that
way; but, Missis, time I got to the creek and t'other side whar the
roads forks, I gits off, I does, offen John, and looks close to the
ground to find track of 'em an' which road they tuck. Day hit jest
begin to crack a leetle bit; and bless your soul, Missis, they hadn't
been thar. I rode on back tell I got to our cowpen right yonder; and
shore nuff they has been done got down, let down the draw-bars, gone
round the cowpen, let down the fence up yonder ontoo the road agin,
back up yonder and gone on todes Dukesborough. I tracks 'em in
that field thar same as Towser and Loud arter a possum.'
“Cousin Malviny tell Uncle Moses to let possums alone and go
on. `Yes, Missis. I war jest tellin how they let down our draw-bars
and went through behind the cowpen yonder, an got ontoo the road
agin an whipt on to town.' But, Philip, I couldn't stop for Uncle
Moses to tell his tale; it war always astonishin to me how long it do
take a nigger to tell anything. So I tells Uncle Moses to go 'long
and put up his mule, and feed him to boot, and hisself too, as I seed
it and would tell Cousin Malviny myself. And so I did tell her the
upshot of the whole business. And oh, my honest friend, ef you
ever see a person rip and rar, it war Cousin Malviny; she come nigh
and in an about as nigh cussin as she well could, not to say the very
words. But which you know Cousin Malviny ar a woming, and kin to
me — leastways we claims kin; and you musn't say anything about it.
When I told her they was comin back arfter a little, she declared on
her soul that they shouldn't nary one of 'em put their foot into her
house ef she could keep 'em from it; and it look like, she said, she
ought to be mistiss of her own house. Well, I war nately sorry for
Cousin Malviny, an I ax her ef Mr. Lively have promise to marry
her. Cousin Malviny say that no, he didn't in ezactly them words;
but he have bought furnitoor, an' talk in sich a way about the place an'
everything on it as ef he spected to own it hisself; and she war
spectin him to cote her, and then she war goin to think about it
when he did ax: not that she keerd anything about him no way; and
now sense he had done gone and made a fool o' hisself, and took up
with that poor, good-for-nothin Susan Temple, he mout go; and as
for comin into her house, she would set old Towser and Loud arfter
him first. Now I knowed that war all foolishness; and specially
about them dogs, which I knowed they was bitin dogs, and which I
wouldn't a gone out o' that house that night I stayed thar ef I hadn't
knew that Uncle Moses have went possum-huntin; but which I told
Cousin Malviny that them dogs warn't goin to pester Mr. Lively nor
Susan, becase they knowed 'em both as well as they knowed her.
We was inside the gate, and we was jest a startin to go to the house
when here drive up Mr. Lively and Susan. `Here, Towser, here,
Loud!' hollers out Cousin Malviny, `here! here!' Says I to Cousin
Malviny, `Cousin Malviny, ef them dogs bites anybody here to-day,
it's agoin to be me; and I hopes you will stop callin 'em.' But bless
your soul, my friend Philipiminon, them dogs was round by the
kitchen, and they heerd Cousin Malviny and they come a tarin and
a yellin. As soon as they turned the corner o' the house, I seed they
thought I was the person they was to git arfter. I jumps back, I does,
and runs through the gate and shets it. `Sich 'em, Towser! Sich
'em, my boys,' says Cousin Malviny — the foolishest that I think I ever
see any sensible person ever do sense I war born; but Cousin
Malviny, all the eyes she had war upon Mr. Lively, and he war a
hold. `Sich 'em, my boys!' kept hollerin Cousin Malviny, outen all
reason. Well, Sir, lo and behold! while old Towser war at the gate
a rippin and a roarin to git out, Loud he run down about thirty steps
whar thar war a rail off the yard fence, and he lit over and he come a
chargin. I says to myself, ef here aint a responsibility nobody ever
had one, and the only way I has to git outen it is to clime that gate-post.
So I hops up, one foot on a rail of the fence, hands on the
gate-post, and t'other foot on one of the palins o' the gate. I war
climbin with all that bein in a hurry that you mout sposen a man in
my present sitooation would know he have no time to lose. I has
done got one foot on top o' the fence, and war about to jerk the
t'other from between the gate palins, when old Towser he grab my
shoe by the toe, inside the yard, and the next minute Loud he have
me by my coat-tails outside.
“At this very minute Mr. Lively have farly got down from the
gig; and when he seed Loud have me by my last coat-tail (for he have
done tore off t'other), he rush up, gin him a lick with his hickory-stick,
and speak to Towser, and they let me go. Bless your soul, Philip!
I war too mad to see all what follered. Both o' my coat-tails was tore
pretty well off; and hadn't been for my shoes bein so thick, and tacks
in 'em to boot, I should a lost one of my toes, and maybe two. When
I got sorter cool I see Mr. Lively tryin to show Cousin Malviny a
paper, and call her Aunty. When she hear Mr. Lively call her Aunty,
Cousin Malviny, who have been a ravin all this time, she say that
war too much; and then she go in the house, and sink in a chair and
call for her smellin vial, and tell 'em to put her anywhar they wants
to, ef it even war her grave. She give up farly and squarly.
“Come to find out, Mr. Lively, while I war gittin back my temper
and bein sorter cool — for I tell you, boy, I war never madder in my
life — Mr. Lively have been a tellin Cousin Malviny what I'm now a
telling you, that that place and everything on it belong to him now as
the husband o' Susan; and which they have jest t'other day found
Hodge's will, which he have hid away in that desk; and which Hodge
he give everything thar to Susan and Cousin Malviny jintly, for
Cousin Malviny's death, and arfterwards the whole to Susan; and
which he have pinted Mr. Lively his Ezecketer; and which that ar a
law word, Philipip — a meanin that somebody arfter a man dies have
got to tend to the business in ginerly.
“And now, Philip, I tell you that Mr. Lively ar a right clever old
man arfter all. He ar from old North Calliner, shore nuff; and
away long time ago he have a plantation thar, and he war goin to
marry a gurl over thar, long time ago, but she took sick and died.
And then Mr. Lively, he got low sperited like, and sell out and move
to Augusty and buy propty, and make more money and buy more
propty, tel he got to be worth twenty thousand dollars at least
calclation. Did you ever see such a man?
“Well, he got tired livin in sich a big place, and he want to git
back in the country. But somehow he don't feel like goin back to old
North Calliner; and then he git acquainted with Hodge, and he heern
about Dukesborough, and so he come here. Well, arfter Hodge he
died, Cousin Malviny, you see, she think about changin her conditions
again, and they aint no doubt but she take arfter Mr. Lively. She
deny it now; but wimming can't fool me. Well, Mr. Lively he git
somehow to like the place and don't want to go away from it; but he
see somethin's obleeged to be done; and he have always like Susan,
becase he see Cousin Malviny sorter put on her so much. Hodge
war sorry for Susan too, and he use to talk to Mr. Lively about her;
and he tell Mr. Lively that ef he died he war goin to 'member her
in his will. But shore enough they couldn't find no will, and Mr.
Lively he sposen that Hodge done forgit Susan; and so Mr. Lively
he make up his mind to cote Susan, and ef she'd have him he mean
to buy out the propty even ef he have to pay too much for it. So he
go to cotin Susan the first chance he git; and Susan, not spectin she
war ever goin to be coted by anybody, think she better say yes, and
she say yes. It war a quick cotin and a quick anser. But lo and
behold! Susan found in the sto' one day a paper, and she give it to
Mr. Lively; and Mr. Lively see it war Hodge's will, as I tell you. But
this didn't alter Susan; for when the old man told her about it, and
say he'd let her off ef she wanted to, Susan say she don't want to
be let off; and you now behold the conshequenches.
“And now, Philip, what make I tell you he ar a right clever old
feller ar this: when Cousin Malviny ar sorter come too, and understan
herself and the sitooation she war in, Mr. Lively call Susan in; for I
tell you that gurl war not for gittin out o' that gig till matters got
cooler. And then Mr. Lively tell Cousin Malviny that she mout stay
right whar she war, and that he war goin to fix up her house, and she
mout keep her same room, only it should have new furnitoor, and he
everything hisself, and she shouldn't be at no expense; and ef she
got married he would give her more'n the will give her in money, and
she mout will away her intrust into the bargin and he would pay it in
money; only Mr. Lively say that sto' must be broke up, and he will
pay her down in cash twice what the stock war worth. Arfter all this,
Cousin Malviny gin up for good and call for Susan. Susan went to
her, and they hugged; and Cousin Malviny she laughed, and Susan
she cried. I could but notice them two wimming. One of 'em was
a laughin and one was a cryin; and which I couldn't see the use nor
the sense of nary one. But wimming's wimming, and you can't alter
'em.
“But it war time I war leavin and goin back to my business. Thar
business war not mine. I bids them wimming good-bye; and I axes
Mr. Lively, ef it war not too much trouble, to see me throo the gate
and safe from them dogs; becase I told Mr. Lively I didn't want to
hurt them dogs, but I wanted 'em not to be pesterin o' me no more.
Mr. Lively he go with me about a hundred yards; and as I war about
to tell him good-bye, I says to Mr. Lively, says I, `Mr. Lively, it 'pear
like you has plenty o' money; and I don't sposen that you think
people ought to lose anything by 'tendin to your business, when it's
none o' theirn. Well, Mr. Lively, it seem like somebody by good
rights, reasonable speakin, somebody ought to pay for my coat-tails;
for you can see for yourself, Mr. Lively, that ef this coat ar to be of
any more use to me, it ar got to be as a round jacket; and all this
bizness whar it got tore — and I come monstous nigh gittin dog-bit —
war none o' mine, but t'other people's; and it seem like I ought to git
paid by somebody.' Mr. Lively smile and say `of cose,' and ax me
about what I sposen them coat-tails was worth; and I tells him I don't
think two dollars and a half was high. And then, Philip, ef he didn't
pull out a five-dollar bill and give me, I wish I may be dinged!
“And then, Philip, what do you sposen that blessed and ontimely
old man said to me? Says he, `Mr. Williams, you did lose your coat-tails,
and come very nigh bein badly dog-bit while lookin on at business
which, as you say, was not yourn. You've got paid for it. When
you war out here before, Mr. Williams, you took occasion to look at
some other business — oh, Mr. Williams, I saw your tracks, and you
told on yourself next mornin at breakfast. Towser and Loud war
then gone with Uncle Moses possum-hunting. Sup-pose they had
Williams? Don't say anything, Mr. Williams; but let this be a
lesson to you, my young friend. There's more ways than one of
paying for things. I advise you, Mr. Williams, not to talk about
what you saw that night to any more people than you can help. I
am not anxious to fool people, Mr. Williams, and haven't done it;
but I would ruther people wouldn't dog me about. You see how unpleasant
it ar to be dogged, and what Loud got for meddlin with your
coat-tails. But he didn't know any better. You do, or ought to.
Let Loud's be a example to you, Mr. Williams. Good-day, Mr.
Williams.' And he left me befo' I could say a single word.
“Now, Philip, I war never so much nonplushed in all my born
days; and which when he talk about how Loud mout be an ezample,
I knowed what he mean, becase which I don't have to be knock
down stairs befo' I can take a hint. But you see, Philip, under all
the circumsances I thinks it's maybe best not to say anything about
the old man's har. Not as I keer for Mr. Lively's old hickory-stick,
becase thar's plenty o' hickories in the woods; but, Philip, it mout
git you into dif-ficulties; and ef it was to do that, I should jest feel
like I ought to take the responsibility, and I should do it. So let's
keep still. I haint told nobody but you and Mr. Jones; and he ar a
man of mighty few words anyhow, and he aint goin to talk. So less
let the old man go, and not interrupt him, and wish him much joy of
his young wife. Poor Cousin Malviny! But she look peert as ever.
I see her yistiday, and she look peert as ever. But wimming's wimming,
Philip, and you can't alter 'em.”
| CHAPTER IX. Dukesborough tales | |