Part 8 (1/2)

”Upon my word!” cried Mrs. Ales.h.i.+ne, tears of joy running down her cheeks, ”them papers shall be signed if I have to work night an' day to find somethin' for you to do. I've got a man takin' keer of my place now; but many a time have I said to myself that, if I had anybody I could trust to do the work right, I'd buy them two fields of Squire Ramsey's an' go into the onion business. An' now you sailor men has come like three sea angels, an' if it suits you we'll go into the onion business on sheers.”

”That suits us tip-top, ma'am,” said the c.o.xswain; ”an' we'll plant inyans for ye on the shears, on the stocks, or in the dry-dock. It don't make no dif'rence to us where you have 'em; jes pa.s.s the word.”

”Well, well,” said Mrs. Lecks, ”I don't know how that's goin' to work, but we won't talk about it now. An' so you came straight on to this place?”

”That did we, ma'am,” said the c.o.xswain. ”An' when we got here we found the parson, but none of you folks. That took us aback a little at fust, but he said he didn't live here, an' you was comin' pretty soon. An' so we took lodgin's at the tavern, an' for three days we've been down here to meet every train, expectin' you might be on it.”

Our baggage had been put on the platform, the train had moved on, and we had stood engrossed in the c.o.xswain's narrative, but now I thought it necessary to make a move. There was but one small vehicle to hire at the station. This would hold but two persons, and in it I placed Mrs. Dusante and Ruth, the first being not accustomed to walking, and the latter very anxious to meet her father. I ordered the man to drive them to the inn, which was about a mile from the station, where we would stay until Mrs. Lecks and Mrs. Ales.h.i.+ne should get their houses properly aired and ready for our reception.

”Mrs. Craig will be glad to get to the tavern and see her father,”

said Mrs. Ales.h.i.+ne. ”I expect he forgot all about its bein' time for the train to come.”

”Bless you, ma'am!” exclaimed the c.o.xswain, ”is she gone to the tavern? The parson's not there!”

”Where is he, then?” asked Mrs. Ales.h.i.+ne.

”He's at your house, ma'am,” replied the c.o.xswain.

”An' what in the name of common sense is he doin' at my house!”

exclaimed Mrs. Ales.h.i.+ne, her eyes sparkling with amazement and indignation.

”Well, ma'am, for one thing,” said the c.o.xswain, ”he's had the front door painted.”

”What!” cried Mrs. Lecks and Mrs. Ales.h.i.+ne in one breath.

”Yes,” continued the c.o.xswain; ”the parson said he hated to see men hangin' around doin' nothin'. An' then he looked about, an' said the paint was all wore off the front door, an' we might as well go to work an' paint that, an' he sent Jim to a shop to git the paint an'

brushes----”

”An' have 'em charged to me?” cried Mrs. Ales.h.i.+ne.

”Yes, ma'am,” continued the c.o.xswain. ”An' Jim an' Bill holy-stoned all the old paint off the door an' I painted it, havin' done lots of that sort of thing on s.h.i.+pboard; an' I think it's a pretty good job, ma'am--red at top and bottom an' white in the middle, like a steamer's smoke-stack.”

Mrs. Lecks and Mrs. Ales.h.i.+ne looked at each other. ”An' he told you to do that?” said Mrs. Lecks.

”Yes, ma'am,” answered the c.o.xswain. ”The parson said he never liked to be nowhere without doin' what good he could. An' there was some other paintin' he talked of havin' done, but we ain't got at it yit.

I s'posed he was actin' under your orders, an' I hope I haven't done no wrong, ma'am.”

”You're not a bit to blame,” said Mrs. Ales.h.i.+ne; ”but I'll look into this thing. No fear about that! An' how did he come to go to my house?

An' how did he get in, I'd like to know?”

”All I know about that,” said the c.o.xswain, ”is what the gal that's livin' there told me, which she did along of askin' us if we was comin' to live there too, an' if she should rig up beds for us somewhere in the top-loft, but we told her no, not havin' no orders, an' payin' our own way at the tavern. She said, said she, that the parson come there an' 'lowed he was a friend of Mrs. Ales.h.i.+ne's an'

travelin' with her, an' that if she was at home she wouldn't let him stay at no tavern; an' that knowin' her wishes he'd come right there, an' 'spected to be took care of till she come. She said she felt oncertain about it, but she tuck him in till she could think it over, an' then we come an' certified that he was the parson who'd been along with Mrs. Ales.h.i.+ne an' the rest of us. Arter that she thought it was all right, an', beggin' your pardon if we was wrong, so did Jim an'

Bill an' me, ma'am.”

”Now,” exclaimed Mrs. Ales.h.i.+ne, ”if that isn't exactly like Elizabeth Grootenheimer! To think of Elizabeth Grootenheimer thinkin'! The Grootenheimers always was the dumbest family in the towns.h.i.+p, an'

Elizabeth Grootenheimer is the dumbest of 'em all! I did say to myself when I went away: 'Now, Elizabeth Grootenheimer is so stone dumb that she'll jus' stay here an' do the little I tell her to do, an' hasn't sense enough to git into no mischief.' An' now, look at her!”

She waved her hand in the direction of the invisible Elizabeth Grootenheimer.