by Eugene Field
VII
OUR PLANS FOR IMPROVEMENTS
The result of the numerous conferences between Alice and Uncle Si wasrather surprising to me. It involved the expenditure of somewhat morethan three thousand dollars. However, a letter had been received fromour beneficent friend, Mr. Black, in which that estimable gentlemanexpressed the conviction that we ought not to try to live in a housethat did not have the ordinary conveniences of a modern city home, andthat we should add whatever improvements we deemed necessary to ourcomfort; these pleasing expressions of opinion were supplemented by thestill more pleasing intimation that Mr. Black would advance us whateversum was necessary to the provision of the changes and innovations wedeemed expedient. It was evident that Mr. Black was most kindlydisposed toward us; at the same time our munificent patron tookoccasion to caution us against extravagance and to impress upon us asense of the necessity of constant and rigorous economy--"especiallyand particularly in the direction of those vanities which simplygratify an individual whim, and are of no practical value whatsoever."
Alice read this last sentence aloud to me several times, for itexpressed exactly her opinion of my fondness for mediaeval armor. I ammaking no complaint of the sly satisfaction which Alice seemingly takesin twitting me with my weakness. I expect to have a glorious revengeby and by when we move into our new house, and when Alice discovers howvery appropriate and ornamental my mediaeval armor will be, set upagainst the walls and in the corners of the front hall.
Fortified by the letter from Mr. Black, we had little difficulty inplanning the most charming improvements. I make use of the pluralpersonal pronoun, although if I were testifying upon oath I should feelcompelled to admit that I myself had precious little to do with theplanning. It grieved me considerably to observe that while theneighbors generally, and Mrs. Denslow particularly, were diligentlyconsulted as to every detail of the new house, an expression of mywishes, views, and advice was not only not solicited, but, whenvolunteered, seemed to be regarded as an impertinence. It occurred tome at such times that prosperity by no means improved Alice's temper,but I should perhaps have taken into consideration the circumstancethat this particular period was one of exceptional excitement, and thathad the same sense of responsibility which burdened Alice been put uponme, I, too, should have exhibited an irritability wholly foreign to mynature under normal conditions and environments.
It was determined to reconstruct certain parts of the old Schmittheimerresidence and to build an addition of two stories, the first-floor roomto be devoted to the purposes of a library or living room, and the roomin the second story to be Alice's bed-chamber. A vast number ofclosets were contemplated, for, as you are presumably aware, woman-kindare passionately fond of closets, and happy, thrice happy, is thehusband who is accorded the inestimable boon of suspending his Sundaysuit from a nail therein. As for myself, I have always regarded theaverage closet as an ingenious device of the evil one for thepropagation and encouragement of moths.
Among other contemplated innovations were a butler's pantry and aconservatory. I approved of the latter, but not of the former. Iforesaw in that butler's pantry a pretext, if not a reason, for thepurchase of china, crockery, and glassware, to be used only when we hadcompany and to be hidden away at other times until broken by carelessservants.
A conservatory had for years been one of my most pleasing desires.Although I know little of them, I am fond of flowers, particularly ofthose which others care for and which do not breed or abound increeping things. But the use to which I was ambitious to put my--orour--conservatory was that of an aviary. I love all pet birds, and oneof my sweetest day dreams has been that which possessed me of a largeglass room or bower well stocked with canaries, linnets, bullfinches,robins, wrens, Java sparrows, love birds, and paroquets. I have oftenpictured to myself the delight I should experience in entering intothis heaven of song and in caressing these feathered pets, in feedingthem and in teaching them pretty tricks and games. I recall thosepleasant boyhood days when a pet crow, and a flock of pigeons, and twobaby hawks afforded me rapture and solicitude combined. Then followedan experience with a matronly hen and her brood of chicks.
I am not ashamed to say that I loved these friends of my youth and thatI still reverence their memories. Nor am I ashamed to tell you thatfor several years after I reached maturity a particular object of myaffections was a wee canary bird that sang sweet songs to me and playeddaintily with my finger whenever I thrust it into the little rascal'scage. Alice insists that I actually cried when that silly littlecreature died; may be I did, for I am a very, very foolish fellow.
One of the things I have never been able to understand is why Alice,with all her gentleness and tenderness, has so violent an antipathy tobird and brute pets. Alice actually seems to dislike birds and dogswith the same zeal with which I love them. At times--you will hardlybelieve it--Alice has exhibited Neronian cruelty and hardness of heart.I remember that on one occasion she caught a harmless, innocent littleblue mouse in the pantry. She fully intended to drown the helplesscreature--as if this world were not big enough for mice and men to liveand be happy in! I had great difficulty in rescuing the tiny rodentfrom his captor, and I remember the satisfaction I had in giving himhis liberty under the kitchen porch of neighbor Rush's house next door.
At first Alice was kindly disposed toward the conservatory scheme, butin an unguarded moment one day I chanced to breathe a suggestion that acombination conservatory-bird cage would do very nicely, and thatsettled the fate of my pleasant dreamings forever.
But I seldom argue these things with Alice. The conservatory is now ashattered dream, and the butler's pantry is inevitable. The gracefulalcove, which was to have been the conservatory (with aviary features),is to be provided with a permanent, stationary seat which Adah is toupholster in a pattern which Maria has promised to send from St. Joe.Whenever I think of it there rise up before my mind's eye visions ofstolen meetings in that alcove, and whispered interviews, in which Ifancy I see our daughter Fanny figuring as an active participant, andthen I devoutly pray that little Erasmus' vigilance may be increased athousand-fold.
I was informed in good time that the library was to be virtually theliving-room for the family. It was here that casual callers were to bereceived and entertained; here the errand boys who delivered packagesfrom the downtown shops were to leave their goods and get theirreceipts; here the laundryman was to wait every Monday morning whileAdah gathered up my hebdomadal bundle of linen for the wash; here werethe children to gather for a frolic every evening after the humblevesper meal.
I am wondering whether Alice and Adah and the neighbors will approve ofmy dearly cherished plan to have one of the tall clocks stationed inone corner, and my very old Suffolk oak table in another corner, and instill another the curious old sofa which Aunt 'Gusty has promised tosend me from Darien, Georgia. I am painfully aware that Alice and Adahand the neighbors regard the beautiful furniture in which I delight as"old trumpery."
When we first looked at the Schmittheimer place Alice exclaimed, uponbeing ushered into one of the rooms: "Now this is just the room forReuben and his old trumpery!" It is twenty-two feet long and eighteenfeet wide, and there are windows to the north, west, and south.Curiously enough, the chimney runs up through the middle of this room,presenting an appearance at once novel and grotesque. Alice assures methat this will prove a unique and charming feature, for she intends toput innumerable shelves around the chimney, and place thereon theinteresting and valuable curios, the purchase of which has kept meinvolved in financial embarrassment for the last twenty years.
Alice has settled it in her own mind just where in my new room each bitof my beloved furniture shall be located--the mahogany chest ofdrawers, the old secretary, the four-post bedstead, the hairclothtrunk, the oak book-case, the corn-husk rocker, the cuckoo clock, theDutch cabinet--yes, each blessed piece has already had its placeassigned to it, even to the old red cricket which Miss Anna Rice sentme from her Connecticut home twel
ve years ago. I am indeed the mostfortunate of men; for who but my Alice _could_ be so sweet andself-abnegatory as to take upon her own dear little shoulders theburden of responsibilities that elsewise would weigh upon her husband?