University of Virginia Library

6. VI.
MRS. THORNTON'S TEA.

We found Mr. Thornton and the little Thorntons waiting,
— the distinguished urchins eying the table ravenously,
as if they did not see cake every day.

Then Susie and Peleg came out of the kitchen together,
looking supremely satisfied with each other, and amazingly
confidential.

Mr. Thornton then let slip those dogs of war, the juniors,
whose ardor he had with difficulty restrained, and with a
rattle and a clatter and a rush they flew to the table,
storming the bread and butter, scaling the salt-fish, carrying
the breast-works of cold chicken, and assaulting the
wings.

In the mean time the lovers managed to get me into
the seat designed for Peleg, while the chair intended for
me, next to Susie, was coolly usurped by that gentleman.
Peleg kept the youngsters in a constant roar of laughter
with his jokes and queer contortions of face, which I was
chagrined to see were greatly enjoyed by Susie.

“O Peleg!” she exclaimed at last, “you 'll certainly
kill me with your ridiculous stories.”

“Wa'al, then, I won't tell any more,” said Peleg.
“Fact, I 'm a melancholeric man myself, nat'rally. Studied
to be a minister once: this is the way I looked,” — sleeking
down his hair with a meek and droll expression. “That
was when I was Presbyterian. Then I turned Methodist,
and looked so,” — and out of the tearful seriousness of a
broad, unctuous countenance broke a sympathetic, hopeful
smile. “After that I thought of turning Baptist, and got
as far as this,” — a sapient, hollow-cheeked visage, with a

one-sided pucker; “when I switched off on the Universalist
track, as thus,” — changing instantly to the aspect of
a fat and jolly parson. “From that to swapping horses is
the easiest thing in natur'. Then I looked so,” — putting
his tongue in his cheek for a quid, and inclining his head
sidewise, with the honestest smooth face, — “and talked
this way: That's a dreadful kind beast, my friend; true
and sound in every way!” — spoken with a good-natured
drawl that convulsed the youngsters.

I sympathized with Mrs. Thornton, who gravely reproved
Mr. Green for his levity in taking off the different denominations.

“Call hoss-jockeying one of the denominations? Wa'al,
we have our backsliders too,” said Peleg, — “from the backs
of unbroke colts. Speaking of my being a melancholeric
man, Susie, I was put in mind to-day how choleric I got
when my melons was stole last summer. Met one o' them
fellers.”

“Did you? O, you must tell Mr. Blazay that story,
Peleg!”

And Peleg told it for my especial edification.

“Ye see, Mr. Blazay, there 's a tribe over the mountain
we call Shanghays, — gre't slab-sided lummoxes, — legs so
long they hev to go down sullar to tie their shoes; and
feet so big they hev to use the forks of the road for a boot-jack.
Wa'al, a set of 'em come over to our pond a-fishing
last summer, and as fish would n't bite they concluded
watermillions would (that 's what they call 'em), and went
over to my patch, a couple of 'em, to hook some; when I
happened along and ketched 'em at it.

“`Wa'al,' says I, `how ye gitting on? Don't be in a
hurry,' says I, as they dropped the melons and started to
run. `Better take some with ye,' says I. `Plenty of 'em.
Fust-rate, too. Here, I can git ye some a good deal better

than these.' They felt awful cheap; but I made 'em
hold their arms, and loaded 'em up with the best I could
find. `There,' says I, `you see I know a great deal better
than you do how to pick, so next time you want any, s'posing
you come and ask me. It looks as if I was mean
about my melons, when folks hev to come and steal 'em,'
says I.

“So I let 'em go. But I thought I 'd like to hear what
sort of a story they 'd tell the others; so I cut around
through the edge of the woods and got behind a stump by
the pond, where I could see what was going on, though I
could n't hear much. They left their fishing and ripped
open the melons, and appeared to be heving a glorious
good time over 'em, when a dog they had along with 'em
got hold of a rind, choked, and keeled over. They thought
he was dead; and then you should have seen the old
scratch that was to pay! `Pizon! pizon!' I could hear
'em spluttering. They thought I had plugged the melons
and put arsenic into 'em; which accounted for my picking
out such partic'lar nice ones. They dropped their slices,
and spit out what they 'd been eating, and made a stampede
for the village, to the doctor's; and about half an hour
after they might have been seen going over the mountain,
sick as death with epicac, for the doctor had give each on
'em a rousing good dose. This is the way they looked,”
And Peleg illustrated, while everybody laughed but me.

I had had enough of that sort of thing. I arose to go,
pleading an engagement. “A lady I met in the cars,
Mrs.” — referring to the widow's card — Mrs. Pellet.”

“Sho!” said Peleg. “Not Mrs. Dr. Pellet, — Laury
Scranton that was?”

“The very same; and a very interesting young widow,
with twenty thousand dollars.”

“Widow!” gasped P. Green, with nobody's face but his

own this time; and a very astonished face it was. “See
here, ye don't say! Dr. Pellet, he a'n't dead, is he?”

I assured him that the excellent doctor was deceased.

“I take it he was a dear friend of yours, Mr. Green.”

“Yaas! no! I mean — S 'pose ye wait a minute; guess
I 'll walk along with ye; got my colts to look after; seen
my hat, Susie?”

While Mr. Green, in his agitation, was hunting for his
hat, I shook hands with the family, and accepted, because
I could not refuse, an earnest invitation to a farmer's dinner
the next day. I then departed, pursued wildly out of
the house by Peleg, pulling on his hat.