CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.
TELLS OF AN IMPORTANT MATTER.
Not very long after this, Thursday October Christian experienced at thehands of John Adams treatment which bore some slight resemblance to aspecies of tooth-drawing. In fact, Adams may be said to have had hisrevenge. It happened thus:--
Adams was seated, one afternoon, in front of his house on a low stool,where he was wont to sun himself and smoke an imaginary pipe, while thechildren were at play in the grassy square. He was absorbed,apparently, in what he used to term a brown study. Thursday October,making his appearance from among the bushes on the opposite side of thesquare, leaped the four-foot fence like a greyhound, without a run, andcrossed over.
Whether it was the leap or the rate at which he had walked home throughthe woods, we cannot say; but his handsome face was unusually flushed,and he stopped once or twice on nearing Adams, as if undecided what todo. At last he seemed to make up his mind, walked straight up to theseaman, and stood before him with folded arms.
"Hallo, Toc," said Adams, rousing himself; "you've caught me napping.The truth is, I've bin inventin' a lot of awful whackers to spin a yarnout o' for the child'n. This is Friday, you know, an' as they've binfastin', poor things, I want to give 'em what you may call mental food,to keep their bread-baskets quiet, d'ye see? But you've got somethin'to tell me, Toc; what is it?"
"Father," said Thursday,--and then followed a long pause, during whichthe youth shifted from one leg to the other.
"Well, now, Toc," said Adams, eyeing the lad with a twinklingexpression, "d'ye know, I _have_ heard it said or writ somewhere, thatbrevity is the soul of wit. If that sayin's true, an' I've no reasonfor to suppose that it isn't, I should say that that observation ofyours was wit without either soul or body, it's so uncommon short; toowitty, in short. Couldn't you manage to add something more to it?"
"Yes, father," said Thursday, with a deprecating smile, "I have come toask--to ask you for leave to--to--to--"
"Well, Toc, you have my cheerful leave to--to--to, and tootle too, asmuch as you please," replied Adams, with a bland smile.
"In short," said Thursday, with a desperate air, "I--I--want leave tomarry."
"Whew!" whistled Adams, with a larger display of eyeball than he hadmade since he settled on the island. "You've come to the point _now_,and no mistake. You--want--leave--to--marry, Thursday OctoberChristian, eh?"
"Yes, father, if you've no objection."
"Hem! no objection, marry--eh?" said Adams, while his eyebrows began toreturn slowly to their wonted position. "Ha! well, now, let's hear;_who_ do you want to marry?"
Having fairly broken the ice, the bashful youth said quickly,"Susannah."
Again John Adams uttered a prolonged whistle, while his eyebrows sprangonce more to the roots of his hair.
"What! the widdy?"
"Yes, Mr Young's widow," replied Thursday, covered with confusion.
"Well, I never! But this _does_ beat cock-fightin'." He gave his thigha sounding slap, and seemed about to give way to irrepressible laughter,when he suddenly checked himself and became grave.
"I say, Toc," said he, earnestly, "hand me down the Prayer-book."
Somewhat surprised, the lad took the book from its shelf, and placed iton the sailor's knees.
"Look 'ee here, Toc; there's somethin' here that touches on your case,if I don't misremember where. Let me see. Ah, here it is, `A man maynot marry his grandmother,' much less a boy," he added, looking up.
"But, father, Susannah ain't my grandmother," said Toc, stoutly feelingthat he had got an advantage here.
"True, lad, but she might be your mother. She's to the full sixteenyears older than yourself. But seriously, boy, do you mean it, and isshe willin'?"
"Yes, father, I do mean it, an' she is quite willin'. Susannah has binkinder to me than any one else I ever knew, and I love her better thaneverybody else put together. She did laugh a bit at first when I spoketo her about it, an' told me not to talk so foolishly, an' said, just asyou did, that she might be my mother; but that made no odds to me, forshe's not one bit like my mother, you know."
"No, she's not," said Adams, with an assenting nod. "She's not likeMainmast by any means, bein' a deal younger an' better lookin'. Well,now, Toc, you've given me matter to put in my pipe, (if I had one), an'smoke it for some time to come--food for reflection, so to speak. Justyou go to work, my lad, as if there was nothin' in the wind, an' whenI've turned it over, looked at it on all sides, gone right round thecompass with it, worked at it, so to speak, like a cooper round a cask,I'll send for you an' let you know how the land lies."
When Adams had anything perplexing on his mind, he generally retired tothe outlook cave at the mountain-top. Thither he went upon thisoccasion. The result was, that on the following day he sent forThursday, and made him the following oration:--
"Thursday, my lad, it's not for the likes o' me to fly in the face o'Providence. If you still remain in earnest about this little matter,an' Susannah's mind ain't changed, I'll throw no difficulty in your way.I've bin searchin' the Book in reference to it, an' I see nothin'particular there regardin' age one way or another. It's usual in OldEngland, Toc, for the man to be a deal older than the wife, but there'sno law against its bein' the other way, as I knows on. All I can findon the subject is, that a man must leave his father and mother, an'cleave to his wife. You han't got no father to leave, my boy, more'sthe pity, an' as for Mainmast, you can leave her when you like, though,in the circumstances, you can't go very far away from her, your tetherbein' somewhat limited. As to the ceremony, I can't find nothin' aboutthat in the Bible, but there's full directions in the Prayer-book; soI'll marry you off all ship-shape, fair an' above board, when the timecomes. But there's one point. Toc, that I feel bound to settle, andit's this: That you can't be married till you've got a good bit ofground under cultivation, so that you may be able to keep your wifecomfortably without callin' on her to work too hard. You've bin a busyenough fellow, I admit, since ever you was able to do a hand's turn, butyou haven't got a garden of your own yet. Now, I'll go up with youto-morrow, an' mark off a bit o' your father's property, which you cango to work on, an' when you've got it into something of a for'ard state,I'll marry you. So--that's a good job settled."
When Adams finished, he turned away with a profound sigh of relief, asif he felt that he had not only disposed of a particular and knottycase, but had laid down a great general principle by which he shouldsteer his course in all time to come.
It need scarcely be said that Thursday October was quite prepared toundertake this probationary work; that the new garden was quickly gotinto a sufficiently "for'ard state;" and that, ere long, the firstwedding on Pitcairn was celebrated under circumstances of jubilantrejoicing.
The Lonely Island: The Refuge of the Mutineers Page 25