by Eugene Field
III
WE MAKE OUR BARGAIN KNOWN
The Schmittheimer place has occasioned Alice and me many heartburningsof envy the last three years. I recall that the first time we passedit Alice exclaimed: "There, Reuben, is just the place for us!" Iagreed entirely with this proposition. The house stood back a goodlydistance from the street upon a prominence that gave it an extendedsurvey of the landscape, and afforded an exceptionally nobleopportunity for an unobstructed view of the heavens upon cloudlessnights. Alice particularly admired the lawn, for already she picturedto herself the pleasing sight of little Josephine and little Erasmus atplay in the cool grass under the umbrageous trees.
And now, having yearned and pined for this particular abiding-place amany days, it was really ours! Alice told me about it--how she hadcomprehended the bargain (for it was indeed a bargain!)--as weproceeded together to inspect our new home. It seems that that verymorning, worn out with waiting and inflamed by a determination to doNow or to perish in the attempt, Alice had sallied forth in quest ofthe precious game. She had gone directly to the owner, had subtlyingratiated herself in the confidence of Mrs. Schmittheimer, and, inless than fifteen minutes' time, had made terms with that amiablewoman. And _such_ terms! My head fairly swims when I think of it.
Mrs. Schmittheimer is a widow. Since her husband's demise two yearsago come next September, she has lived in comparative solitude in theold home. She was not wholly alone, for with characteristic Teutonicthrift she had rented the lower part of the house to a small family,consisting of a mechanic, his wife, their baby, and a small dog. Mrs.Schmittheimer herself lived and moved and had her being in the secondstory, doing her own cooking and other housework, her only companionbeing her faithful omnipresent cat, the sex of which (I state this fora reason which will hereinafter transpire) was feminine. Although thegood Mrs. Schmittheimer was not unfrequently visited by femalecompatriots who condoled with her and drank her coffee and ate herkuchen, after the fashion of sympathetic, suffering womanhood, shewearied of this loneliness; she was, in fact, as anxious to get awayfrom the old place as Alice and I were to get into it.
So Alice and Mrs. Schmittheimer had little trouble in coming to anunderstanding mutually agreeable. The late Mr. Schmittheimer hadalways demanded the round sum of ten thousand dollars for the propertyunder discussion, but the prevalence of hard times and the persuasiveeloquence of my dear diplomatic Alice induced the late Mr.Schmittheimer's relict to consent to a reduction of the price to ninethousand five hundred dollars, "one thousand dollars in cash and thebalance in five years at six per cent. interest, payable semi-annually."
"You see," said Alice to me, "that we practically get the place forfive years by simply paying rent. We pay one thousand dollars down andfifty dollars a month interest. In five years there are sixty months.and in that time we shall have paid for this place four thousanddollars, which is but four hundred dollars more than we should have topay if we remained in the house we are now living in at sixty dollars amonth rental! You see, I have figured it all out, and figures can'tlie!"
You will agree with me when I tell you right here that my wife Alice isa superior woman.
"Now we must be very careful," said Alice, "not to breathe a word aboutthis to anybody until all the papers have been signed and the propertyhas been transferred."
I suggested that in so serious a proceeding it might be wise to havethe counsel of the more intimate of our neighbors; the Baylors, theRushes and the Tiltmans had had experience in such matters, and mightbe of important service to us in this particular undertaking.
"No," said Alice, "we must guard against every possibility of failure.Our plan might leak out and reach the ears of the real-estate dealers,and then we should be hopelessly lost. Our neighbors mean well, butthey are human. No, the only people I shall consult are the Denslows."
I saw at once the wisdom of this determination. The Denslows are mostestimable folk and I admire and love them. Mrs. Denslow is of anexceptionally warm, generous, and liberal nature, while, upon the otherhand, Mr. Denslow has the reputation of being the most cautiousbusiness man in our city; the consequence is that in the administrationof affairs in the Denslow household you meet with that conservativehappy medium which is beautiful to contemplate. Alice was right; ourprecious secret would be secure with the Denslows. In fact theDenslows would be of distinct help to us in the vast enterprise inwhich we had embarked. Mrs. Denslow would be prepared at all times toprovide sympathy and enthusiasm, and Mr. Denslow would be constitutedat once absolute engineer and watchdog of the business details of theaffair.
But--I make the confession amid blushes--I cannot prevaricate, neithercan I dissemble. Alice knew the guilelessness and singleness of mynature, and she should not have imposed that dreadful oath of secrecyupon me. I would not for all the wealth of the Indies live over againthe awful four hours which followed my solemn promise to Alice not toreveal the blissful tidings that we had bought the old Schmittheimerplace! I felt as if I had committed a crime; I was as a haunted manmust be. I dared not look my neighbors in the face lest they shouldread the sweet truth in my honest eyes.
Finally I broke completely down, for I could not stand it any longer.I actually believe that if I had kept silent another hour the dreadfulconsciousness of guilt would have swelled within me to such a bulk asto have burst me into fragments, which would now be travelling aroundaimlessly in space, like the lost Pleiad, or like the dismembered andstray tail of a comet. So I called my next neighbor, Rush, out behindhis barn, and, under oath of secrecy, revealed the good news to him,and then I did likewise by neighbor Tiltman, and so on, in seemlyprogression, by all the other neighbors, until at last my confidencehad been securely reposed in every one.
I cannot tell you what sweet relief I found in this proceeding. To mykilling consciousness of guilt succeeded a peace which passeth allhuman understanding. There was a world of satisfaction, too, in beingassured by each of those dear neighbors that we (Alice and I) had gotthe greatest bargain ever heard of, that we were the luckiest couple onearth, that the old Schmittheimer place was just exactly what wewanted, that the property would enhance double in value in less than ayear, etc., etc., etc. Oh, it is good to have such neighbors as oursare!
The Denslows were quite as glad as the others were to hear of ourbargain. Mrs. Denslow (bless her kind heart) began at once to picturethe veritable paradise into which it were possible to transform thefront lawn. In the exuberance of her fancy she portrayed windinggravel walks among rose bushes and beds of gay flowers; rustic bowersover which honeysuckle and ivy clambered; picturesque miniature Swisscottages in the trees for birds to nest in; an artificial lake wellstocked with goldfishes, and upon whose tranquil bosom a swan or twowould glide majestically through the mist of the fountain thatperennially would shower down its tinkling grace.
It was very pleasing to hear Mrs. Denslow and Alice talk about thesethings with that enthusiasm peculiar to their sex. Until "our house"became a probability I did not really know with what rapidity it werepossible for women-folk to discuss and to decide even the mostinsignificant details of the subject matter of their enthusiasm. As Irecall, in less than fifteen minutes' time after Alice had confided oursecret to Mrs. Denslow those two amiable and superior women had itdefinitely settled what the color of the window shades was to be andjust how many brass-headed tacks would be required to fasten down thenew Japanese rug with which it was proposed to adorn the hardwood floorof the library in the first story of "the addition" which had alreadybeen determined upon. But Mrs. Denslow was no more prolific of lovelysuggestions than was Alice's widowed sister Adah, who has made her homewith us for the last two years. Adah's one o'ermastering ambition inlife has been to build a house. In the autumn of 1881 she saw in acopy of "The National Architect" the picture and plans of a villa ownedby a plutocrat at Narragansett Pier. She preserved this paper assacredly as if it were one of the family archives, and upon theslightest pretext she brought it forth and exhibited it
and dilated inextenso upon the surpassing advantages and beauties of the plutocraticvilla.
When Adah learned that Alice and I had actually bought a place at lastshe fairly wept for joy, and she excitedly produced her creased andworn copy of "The National Architect" and besought us to remodel theold Schmittheimer "rookery"--that is what she dared to call it--into avilla! And when she was made to understand by means of numerous longand earnest representations that a villa could not even be dreamed ofby poor folk, Adah was prepared to compromise the affair upon a basisinvolving our promise to build a colonial house like Maria's house inSt. Jo.
This Maria, whose name is forever upon Adah's tongue, had been Adah'sschoolmate back in St. Joseph, Missouri. Their friendship extendedthrough the blissful years of their early wedded life. And at thepresent time they are as dear to each other as of yore. Adahpresupposes that everybody else knows who Maria is, and so everybody isregaled perennially with Adah's loyal tributes to Maria's transcendentvirtues. Occasionally Alice (who is without doubt the sweetest-naturedcreature in all the world) rebels against the example of Maria whichAdah continually holds forth.
I have an instance just at hand. It could not have been more than halfan hour ago that I heard Adah say: "Alice, do you know I 've beenthinking about it all the morning, and I don't see how you 're going toget along without a closet in that little east room up-stairs."
"But," said Alice, "there seems to be no way of putting a closet intothat room."
"Well, I think I 've hit on a plan," said Adah, and she produced a Mme.Demorest pattern of a sleeve, upon which, with infinite pains, she hadtraced certain lines with the wreck of a pencil which little Josephinehad tried to sharpen with the scissors.
"Yes, I see," said Alice, amiably; "but that would cut in upon thehall."
"Well, Maria had to do the same thing when she made her house over,"said Adah, "and you 've no idea how nice it is."
"I don't care _what_ Maria did," said Alice, bridling up. "This is_my_ house, and I 'm not going to spoil a good hall by building anyskimpy little closets! That room will do for Erasmus, and he does n'tneed any closet. So that is settled, once and forever!"
I heard all this, myself, from the next room. I did not interfere atall, for I make it a rule never to interpose in other people'sdisagreements. I will admit, however, that it rather wounded me tohear Alice call it "_my_ house" instead of _our_ house.