CHAPTER TEN
I need hardly say that this public ridicule left me dazed. DesperatelyI recalled our calm and orderly England where such things would not bepermitted. There we are born to our stations and are not allowed toforget them. We matter from birth, or we do not matter, and that's allto it. Here there seemed to be no stations to which one was born; theeffect was sheer anarchy, and one might ridicule any one whomsoever.As was actually said in that snarky manifesto drawn up by the rebelleaders at the time our colonies revolted, "All men are created freeand equal"--than which absurdity could go no farther--yet the lowermiddle classes seemed to behave quite as if it were true.
And now through no fault of my own another awkward circumstance wasthreatening to call further attention to me, which was highlyundesirable at this moment when the cheap one-and-six Hobbs fellow hadso pointedly singled me out for his loathsome buffoonery.
Some ten days before, walking alone at the edge of town one calmafternoon, where I might commune with Nature, of which I have alwaysbeen fond, I noted an humble vine-clad cot, in the kitchen garden ofwhich there toiled a youngish, neat-figured woman whom I at oncerecognized as a person who did occasional charring for the Flouds onthe occasion of their dinners or receptions. As she had appeared to becheerful and competent, of respectful manners and a quite markedintelligence, I made nothing of stopping at her gate for a moment'schat, feeling a quite decided relief in the thought that here was onewith whom I need make no pretence, her social position being sharplydefined.
We spoke of the day's heat, which was bland, of the vegetables whichshe watered with a lawn hose, particularly of the tomatoes of whichshe was pardonably proud, and of the flowering vine which shielded herpiazza from the sun. And when she presently and with due courtesyinvited me to enter, I very affably did so, finding the atmosphere ofthe place reposeful and her conversation of a character that I couldapprove. She was dressed in a blue print gown that suited her no end,the sleeves turned back over her capable arms; her brown hair wasarranged with scrupulous neatness, her face was pleasantly flushedfrom her agricultural labours, and her blue eyes flashed a friendlywelcome and a pleased acknowledgment of the compliments I made her onthe garden. Altogether, she was a person with whom I at once feltmyself at ease, and a relief, I confess it was, after the strain of myhigh social endeavours.
After a tour of the garden I found myself in the cool twilight of herlittle parlour, where she begged me to be seated while she prepared mea dish of tea, which she did in the adjoining kitchen, to a cheerfulaccompaniment of song, quite with an honest, unpretentiousgood-heartedness. Glad I was for the moment to forget the socialrancors of the town, the affronted dignities of the North Side set,and the pernicious activities of the Bohemians, for here all was of asimple humanity such as I would have found in a farmer's cottage athome.
As I rested in the parlour I could not but approve its general air ofcomfort and good taste--its clean flowered wall-paper, the pair ofstuffed birds on the mantel, the comfortable chairs, the neat carpet,the pictures, and, on a slender-legged stand, the globe of goldfish.These I noted with an especial pleasure, for I have always found anintense satisfaction in their silent companionship. Of the pictures Inoted particularly a life-sized drawing in black-and-white in a largegold frame, of a man whom I divined was the deceased husband of myhostess. There was also a spirited reproduction of "The Stag at Bay"and some charming coloured prints of villagers, children, and domesticanimals in their lighter moments.
Tea being presently ready, I genially insisted that it should beserved in the kitchen where it had been prepared, though to this myhostess at first stoutly objected, declaring that the room was in nosuitable state. But this was a mere womanish hypocrisy, as the placewas spotless, orderly, and in fact quite meticulous in its neatness.The tea was astonishingly excellent, so few Americans I had observedhaving the faintest notion of the real meaning of tea, and I wasoffered with it bread and butter and a genuinely satisfying compote ofplums of which my hostess confessed herself the fabricator, having, asshe quaintly phrased the thing, "put it up."
And so, over this collation, we chatted for quite all of an hour. Thelady did, as I have intimated, a bit of charring, a bit of plainsewing, and also derived no small revenue from her vegetables andfruit, thus managing, as she owned the free-hold of the premises, tomake a decent living for herself and child. I have said that she wascheerful and competent, and these epithets kept returning to me as wetalked. Her husband--she spoke of him as "poor Judson"--had been acarter and odd-job fellow, decent enough, I dare say, but hardly theman for her, I thought, after studying his portrait. There was a sortof foppish weakness in his face. And indeed his going seemed to haveworked her no hardship, nor to have left any incurable sting of loss.
Three cups of the almost perfect tea I drank, as we talked of her ownsimple affairs and of the town at large, and at length of her childwho awakened noisily from slumber in an adjacent room and camevoraciously to partake of food. It was a male child of some two and ahalf years, rather suggesting the generous good-nature of the mother,but in the most shocking condition, a thing I should have spokenstrongly to her about at once had I known her better. Queer it seemedto me that a woman of her apparently sound judgment should let heroffspring reach this terrible state without some effort to alleviateit. The poor thing, to be blunt, was grossly corpulent, legs, arms,body, and face being wretchedly fat, and yet she now fed it a largeslice of bread thickly spread with butter and loaded to overflowingwith the fattening sweet. Banting of the strictest sort was of coursewhat it needed. I have had but the slightest experience with children,but there could be no doubt of this if its figure was to bemaintained. Its waistline was quite impossible, and its eyes, as itowlishly scrutinized me over its superfluous food, showed from a facealready quite as puffy as the Honourable George's. I did, indeed,venture so far as suggesting that food at untimely hours made for atoo-rounded outline, but to my surprise the mother took this as atribute to the creature's grace, crying, "Yes, he wuzzum wuzzums afatty ole sing," with an air of most fatuous pride, and followed thisby announcing my name to it with concerned precision.
"Ruggums," it exclaimed promptly, getting the name all wrong andstaring at me with cold detachment; then "Ruggums-Ruggums-Ruggums!" asif it were a game, but still stuffing itself meanwhile. There was asort of horrid fascination in the sight, but I strove as well as Icould to keep my gaze from it, and the mother and I again talked ofmatters at large.
I come now to speak of an incident which made this quite harmlessvisit memorable and entailed unforeseen consequences of an almostquite serious character.
As we sat at tea there stalked into the kitchen a nondescript sort ofdog, a creature of fairish size, of a rambling structure, so to speak,coloured a puzzling grayish brown with underlying hints of yellow,with vast drooping ears, and a long and most saturnine countenance.
Quite a shock it gave me when I looked up to find the beast staring atme with what I took to be the most hearty disapproval. My hostesspaused in silence as she noted my glance. The beast then approachedme, sniffed at my boots inquiringly, then at my hands with increasinganimation, and at last leaped into my lap and had licked my facebefore I could prevent it.
I need hardly say that this attention was embarrassing and mostdistasteful, since I have never held with dogs. They are doubtlesswell enough in their place, but there is a vast deal of sentimentabout them that is silly, and outside the hunting field the mostfinely bred of them are too apt to be noisy nuisances. When I say thatthe beast in question was quite an American dog, obviously of nobreeding whatever, my dismay will be readily imagined. Ratherimpulsively, I confess, I threw him to the floor with a stern,"Begone, sir!" whereat he merely crawled to my feet and whimpered,looking up into my eyes with a most horrid and sickening air ofdevotion. Hereupon, to my surprise, my hostess gayly called out:
"Why, look at Mr. Barker--he's actually taken up with you right away,and him usually so suspicious of strangers. Only yesterday he bit anagent that
was calling with silver polish to sell--bit him in the legso I had to buy some from the poor fellow--and now see! He's asfriendly with you as you could wish. They do say that dogs know whenpeople are all right. Look at him trying to get into your lap again."And indeed the beast was again fawning upon me in the most abjectmanner, licking my hands and seeming to express for me some hideousadmiration. Seeing that I repulsed his advances none too gently, hisowner called to him:
"Down, Mr. Barker, down, sir! Get out!" she continued, seeing that hepaid her no attention, and then she thoughtfully seized him by thecollar and dragged him to a safe distance where she held him, henevertheless continuing to regard me with the most servile affection.
{Illustration: "WHY, LOOK AT MR. BARKER--HE'S ACTUALLY TAKEN UP WITHYOU RIGHT AWAY, AND HIM USUALLY SO SUSPICIOUS OF STRANGERS"}
"Ruggums, Ruggums, Ruggums!" exploded the child at this, excitedlywaving the crust of its bread.
"Behave, Mr. Barker!" called his owner again. "The gentleman probablydoesn't want you climbing all over him."
The remainder of my visit was somewhat marred by the determination ofMr. Barker, as he was indeed quite seriously called, to force hismonstrous affections upon me, and by the well-meant but often carelessefforts of his mistress to restrain him. She, indeed, appeared tobelieve that I would feel immensely pleased at these tokens of hisliking.
As I took my leave after sincere expressions of my pleasure in thecall, the child with its face one fearful smear of jam again waved itscrust and shouted, "Ruggums!" while the dog was plainly bent ondeparting with me. Not until he had been secured by a rope to one ofthe porch stanchions could I safely leave, and as I went he howleddismally after violent efforts to chew the detaining rope apart.
I finished my stroll with the greatest satisfaction, for during theentire hour I had been enabled to forget the manifold cares of myposition. Again it seemed to me that the portrait in the littleparlour was not that of a man who had been entirely suited to thisworthy and energetic young woman. Highly deserving she seemed, andwhen I knew her better, as I made no doubt I should, I resolved toinstruct her in the matter of a more suitable diet for her offspring,the present one, as I have said, carrying quite too large apreponderance of animal fats. Also, I mused upon the extraordinarytolerance she accorded to the sad-faced but too demonstrative Mr.Barker. He had been named, I fancied, by some one with a primitivesense of humour, I mean to say, he might have been facetiously called"Barker" because he actually barked a bit, though adding the "Mister"to it seemed to be rather forcing the poor drollery. At any rate, Iwas glad to believe I should see little of him in his free state.
And yet it was precisely the curious fondness of this brute for myselfthat now added to my embarrassments. On two succeeding days I pausedbriefly at Mrs. Judson's in my afternoon strolls, finding the lady aswholesomely reposeful as ever in her effect upon my nature, butfinding the unspeakable dog each time more lavish of his disgustingaffection for me.
Then, one day, when I had made back to the town and was in facttraversing the main commercial thoroughfare in a dignified manner, Iwas made aware that the brute had broken away to follow me. Close atmy heels he skulked. Strong words hissed under my breath would notrepulse him, and to blows I durst not proceed, for I suddenly divinedthat his juxtaposition to me was exciting amused comment among certainof the natives who observed us. The fellow Hobbs, in the doorway ofhis bake-shop, was especially offensive, bursting into a shout ofboorish laughter and directing to me the attention of a nearby groupof loungers, who likewise professed to become entertained. Sosituated, I was of course obliged to affect unconsciousness of theawful beast, and he was presently running joyously at my side as ifsecure in my approval, or perhaps his brute intelligence divined thatfor the moment I durst not turn upon him with blows.
Nor did the true perversity of the situation at once occur to me. Notuntil we had gained one of the residence avenues did I realize thesignificance of the ill-concealed merriment we had aroused. It was notthat I had been followed by a random cur, but by one known to be thedog of the lady I had called upon. I mean to say, the creature hadadvertised my acquaintance with his owner in a way that would leadbase minds to misconstrue its extent.
Thoroughly maddened by this thought, and being now safely beyond closeobservers, I turned upon the animal to give it a hearty drubbing withmy stick, but it drew quickly off, as if divining my intention, andwhen I hurled the stick at it, retrieved it, and brought it to mequite as if it forgave my hostility. Discovering at length that thismethod not only availed nothing but was bringing faces to neighbouringwindows, and that it did not the slightest good to speak strongly tothe beast, I had perforce to accompany it to its home, where I had thesatisfaction of seeing its owner once more secure it firmly with therope.
Thus far a trivial annoyance one might say, but when the next day thecreature bounded up to me as I escorted homeward two ladies from theOnwards and Upwards Club, leaping upon me with extravagantmanifestations of delight and trailing a length of gnawed rope, itwill be seen that the thing was little short of serious.
"It's Mr. Barker," exclaimed one of the ladies, regarding me brightly.
At a cutlery shop I then bought a stout chain, escorted the brute tohis home, and saw him tethered. The thing was rather getting on me.The following morning he waited for me at the Floud door and wasbeside himself with rapture when I appeared. He had slipped hiscollar. And once more I saw him moored. Each time I had apologized toMrs. Judson for seeming to attract her pet from home, for I could notbring myself to say that the beast was highly repugnant to me, andleast of all could I intimate that his public devotion to me would beseized upon by the coarser village wits to her disadvantage.
"I never saw him so fascinated with any one before," explained thelady as she once more adjusted his leash. But that afternoon, as Iwaited in the trap for Mr. Jackson before the post-office, the beastseemed to appear from out the earth to leap into the trap beside me.After a rather undignified struggle I ejected him, whereupon hefollowed the trap madly to the country club and made a farce of mygolf game by retrieving the ball after every drive. This time, Ilearned, the child had released him.
It is enough to add that for those remaining days until the presentthe unspeakable creature's mad infatuation for me had made my lifewell-nigh a torment, to say nothing of its being a matter of lowpublic jesting. Hardly did I dare show myself in the business centres,for as surely as I did the animal found me and crawled to fawn uponme, affecting his release each day in some novel manner. Each morningI looked abroad from my window on arising, more than likely detectinghis outstretched form on the walk below, patiently awaiting myappearance, and each night I was liable to dreams of his coming uponme, a monstrous creature, sad-faced but eager, tireless, resolute,determined to have me for his own.
Musing desperately over this impossible state of affairs, I was nowsurprised to receive a letter from the wretched Cousin Egbert, sent bythe hand of the Tuttle person. It was written in pencil on ruledsheets apparently torn from a cheap notebook, quite as if proper pensand decent stationery were not to be had, and ran as follows:
DEAR FRIEND BILL:
Well, Bill, I know God hates a quitter, but I guess I got a streak of yellow in me wider than the Comstock lode. I was kicking at my stirrups even before I seen that bunch of whiskers, and when I took a flash of them and seen he was intending I should go out before folks without any regular pants on, I says I can be pushed just so far. Well, Bill, I beat it like a bat out of hell, as I guess you know by this time, and I would like to seen them catch me as I had a good bronc. If you know whose bronc it was tell him I will make it all O.K. The bronc will be all right when he rests up some. Well, Bill, I am here on the ranche, where everything is nice, and I would never come back unless certain parties agree to do what is right. I would not speak pieces that way for the President of the U.S. if he ask me to on his bended knees. Well, Bill, I wish you would come out here yourself, where ever
ything is nice. You can't tell what that bunch of crazies would be wanting you to do next thing with false whiskers and no right pants. I would tell them "I can be pushed just so far, and now I will go out to the ranche with Sour-dough for some time, where things are nice." Well, Bill, if you will come out Jeff Tuttle will bring you Wednesday when he comes with more grub, and you will find everything nice. I have told Jeff to bring you, so no more at present, with kind regards and hoping to see you here soon.
Your true friend,
E.G. FLOUD.
P.S. Mrs. Effie said she would broaden me out. Maybe she did, because I felt pretty flat. Ha! ha!
Truth to tell, this wild suggestion at once appealed to me. I had animpulse to withdraw for a season from the social whirl, to seek reposeamong the glens and gorges of this cattle plantation, and there try toadjust myself more intelligently to my strange new environment. In themeantime, I hoped, something might happen to the dog of Mrs. Judson;or he might, perhaps, in my absence outlive his curious mania for me.
Mrs. Effie, whom I now consulted, after reading the letter of CousinEgbert, proved to be in favour of my going to him to make one lastappeal to his higher nature.
"If only he'd stick out there in the brush where he belongs, I'd lethim stay," she explained. "But he won't stick; he gets tired afterawhile and drops in perhaps on the very night when we're entertainingsome of the best people at dinner--and of course we're obliged to havehim, though he's dropped whatever manners I've taught him and pickedup his old rough talk, and he eats until you wonder how he can. It'sawful! Sometimes I've wondered if it couldn't be adenoids--there's alot of talk about those just now--some very select people have them,and perhaps they're what kept him back and made him so hopelessly lowin his tastes, but I just know he'd never go to a doctor about them.For heaven's sake, use what influence you have to get him back hereand to take his rightful place in society."
I had a profound conviction that he would never take his rightfulplace in society, be it the fault of adenoids or whatever; that lowpassion of his for being pally with all sorts made it seem that hissense of values must have been at fault from birth, and yet I couldnot bring myself to abandon him utterly, for, as I have intimated,something in the fellow's nature appealed to me. I accordinglymurmured my sympathy discreetly and set about preparations for myjourney.
Feeling instinctively that Cousin Egbert would not now be dressing fordinner, I omitted evening clothes from my box, including only amorning-suit and one of form-fitting tweeds which I fancied would dome well enough. But no sooner was my box packed than the Tuttle personinformed me that I could take no box whatever. It appeared that allluggage would be strapped to the backs of animals and thustransported. Even so, when I had reduced myself to one parkriding-suit and a small bundle of necessary adjuncts, I was told thatthe golf-sticks must be left behind. It appeared there would be nogolf.
And so quite early one morning I started on this curious pilgrimagefrom what was called a "feed corral" in a low part of the town. Herethe Tuttle person had assembled a goods-train of a half-dozen animals,the luggage being adjusted to their backs by himself and twoassistants, all using language of the most disgraceful characterthroughout the process. The Tuttle person I had half expected toappear garbed in his native dress--Mrs. Effie had once more referredto "that Indian Jeff Tuttle"--but he wore instead, as did his twoassistants, the outing or lounge suit of the Western desperado, nor,though I listened closely, could I hear him exclaim, "Ugh! Ugh!" inmoments of emotional stress as my reading had informed me that theIndian frequently does.
The two assistants, solemn-faced, ill-groomed fellows, bore thecurious American names of Hank and Buck, and furiously chewed thetobacco plant at all times. After betraying a momentary interest in mysmart riding-suit, they paid me little attention, at which I was wellpleased, for their manners were often repellent and their abrupt,direct fashion of speech quite disconcerting.
The Tuttle person welcomed me heartily and himself adjusted the saddleto my mount, expressing the hope that I would "get my fill ofscenery," and volunteering the information that my destination was"one sleep" away.
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