The House

by Eugene Field

  XI

  I MAKE A STAND FOR MY RIGHTS

  Shortly after Mr. Black's arrival that worthy gentleman was escortedwith all due formality to the old Schmittheimer place in ClarendonAvenue. Recognizing the fact that first impressions are lasting, wedetermined that Mr. Black's first impressions of our purchase should befavorable. So we conducted him to our property by a rather circuitousroute. The approach to the old Schmittheimer place from the north isby all means the most agreeable; it leads by Mr. Rink's fine colonialhouse and Martin Howard's new place and through an embowered avenue ofweeping willows, which, out of deference to his melancholy profession,Mr. Dimmons, landscape gardener of our most prosperous cemetery, hasconstructed in front of his beautiful residence in Thistle Patch Court;a turn is then made upon Dandelion Place, and just one block this sideof Mr. Allworth's bowlder house (famous as the greatest bargain everacquired on the North Shore) another turn to the right brings you insight and within a few yards of our property.

  Mr. Black was pleased with the neighborhood. He is not a man ofenthusiasms; in all the years of my acquaintance with him I have neverknown him to give way to an ebullition of any kind. Yet upon thisoccasion there was an expression upon his face when he first set eyesupon our property which gave me to understand that he approved of ourpurchase. I hastened to clinch this favorable impression by apprisinghim briefly of the proposition Colonel Bobbett Doller had made to methe previous afternoon, and I flatter myself that, between us, Aliceand I made a pretty fair presentation of the merits of our new place.

  "You seem to have begun reconstructing the house," said Mr. Black."Who is your architect?"

  "We have no real architect," said I. "In order to save expense we haveemployed a boss carpenter capable not only of designing plans, but alsoof executing them. His name is Silas Plum."

  "Plum? That is a very familiar name to me," said Mr. Black. "I wonderwhether he is any kin to the Plum family of Maine. There was anElnathan Plum, who used to live in Aroostook, and I went to school withhim at Pocatapaug Academy in the winter of 1827. The last time Ivisited Maine I was told that he had moved west in 1840, orthereabouts. He married a third cousin of mine whose maiden name wasEastman--Euphemia Eastman, as I recall it."

  Of course I was unable to say what Uncle Si's antecedents were, but Ifelt pretty certain that, if left to himself, Mr. Black would find outall about them, for of all the people I ever met with Mr. Black surelyhas the most astounding faculty for acquiring and rememberinggenealogical data.

  Our worthy friend consumed fully a half-hour's time inspecting ourfront lawn, examining into the condition of the fence, learning whatkind of trees we had, and ascertaining the character and depth of thesoil. I do not hesitate to affirm that he knew more about these thingsat the end of that half-hour than I shall know at the end of ten years'daily association with them. I took pains, however, to make the mostof what small knowledge I had, and with considerable flourish I calledMr. Black's attention to our lilac and gooseberry bushes, and withconscious pride pointed out the wild grape vine in the corner of theyard. I told Mr. Black that it was our intention to have a kitchengarden back of the house, and that among other things we shouldcultivate onions of the choicest quality. I had an object inspecifying the onions particularly, for I knew that Mr. Black had afondness (amounting almost to a passion) for this succulent fruit.

  In all that I pointed out and in all that I said Mr. Black appeared totake more than common interest. One thing that seemed to please himparticularly was the discovery that three of our currant bushes hadescaped the malice of the workmen, and he promised Alice to write tohis niece at Biddeford for her recipe for making currant wine, abeverage which, he assured us, would cheer but not inebriate.

  Alice and I had made it up beforehand that we would leave Mr. Black andUncle Si together for a spell after we had introduced them to eachother; for we wanted our patron to learn for himself (unembarrassed byour presence) just what had been done and how it had been done. I takeit for granted that the two enjoyed their three hours' confabulation,but I more than half suspect they spent precious little of that time ina discussion of our affairs. Mr. Black told me afterward that he hadascertained that Uncle Si (or Silas, as he called him) was, as he hadsurmised, a son of Elnathan Plum of Aroostook.

  "Silas looks more like his mother's side of the family," said Mr.Black. "The Eastmans, as I remember them, were tall and spare, withblue eyes and straight noses. We have an Eastman in Cincinnati wholooks enough like Silas to be his brother, although he belongs to theEbenezer Eastman branch of the family, who located in Westboro, Mass,,in 1765. Tooker Eastman, the Cincinnati representative of the family,is pastor of the First Church; he married Sukey, the widow of AmosSears, who (that is to say, Amos) was a son of Calvin Sears, who waspostmaster at Biddeford while I was a young man in that town."

  From this and other similar morsels of information which Mr. Black letfall in my hearing I gathered that Mr. Black's talk with Uncle Si hadbeen rather of a historical and reminiscent than of a businesscharacter. But this mattered not to me; it was clear that Mr. Blackapproved of our purchase and of the improvements we contemplated, andthat was enough to insure our entire satisfaction.

  When I came down from my study that evening I found Mr. Black and Alicesitting in the parlor, looking mysteriously solemn.

  "I have been advising your wife to make a will," said Mr. Black.

  "Why, Alice dear, are you ill?" I asked, in genuine alarm.

  Alice laughingly answered that she had never before felt heartier or infiner spirits.

  "Then why make a will?" I asked. "Who ever heard of a person's makinga will unless he was sick?"

  "You are laboring under a delusion too common to humanity," said Mr.Black. "In the midst of life we are in death. It is during health andwhile we are in full possession of our physical and mental facultiesthat we should provide against that penalty which we all alike asdebtors are sooner or later to pay to nature. Your wife has recentlybecome possessed by purchase of property that may eventually be oflarge value. It seems proper that she should draw a will indicatingher desires as to the disposal of this property in the event of herdemise."

  "But what," I cried with honest feeling, "what would be lands or goldwithout my Alice?"

  "Calm your agitation, Reuben dear," said Alice. "The suggestion whichMr. Black has made does not involve you to the extent of making you anheir."

  "No," said Mr. Black, "it is proper that you should have a life estatein the property, but the property itself should ultimately go to thechildren."

  "Still," said Alice, thoughtfully, "if Reuben were to survive me itwould be just like him to marry again, and I believe I should just riseup in my grave if I thought another woman was living on the premiseswhich I myself had earned."

  "Oh, but Alice, that is very unfair!" I expostulated. "It is _I_ whoam earning the money--or, at least, it is I who expect to earn themoney wherewith to repay our dear friend, Mr. Black, the sums he hasadvanced and may advance for our property!"

  "There! I suspected it all the time," cried Alice, indignantly. "Youare already claiming the property--you are already preparing for mydeath--I daresay you have your eyes already on the woman who is to stepinto my place when I am gone! But I won't die--no, I just won't! ButI 'll make a will and I 'll give everything to the children, and yousha' n't have a thing when I do die--not a thing, not even a lifeestate--so there!"

  Mr. Black and I were trying to soothe the dear creature, when therecame a knock at the front door. Alice popped up and made her escapeinto the dining-room. The front door opened and the ruddy, smilingface of neighbor Denslow appeared.

  "Pardon my informality," said Mr. Denslow, cheerily; "can I come in?"

  "By all means," I cried. "You are in good season to meet my old andvalued friend, Mr. Black."

  Mr. Denslow greeted Mr. Black effusively. All my neighbors had heardme speak of my generous patron, and they all took a really nobleneighborly pride in promotin
g my interests with him. Mr. Denslow beganat once to dilate in eloquent terms upon the bargain Alice and I hadsecured in the old Schmittheimer place.

  "And, by the way," said Mr. Denslow, turning to me, "the mention ofyour bargain reminds me of the object of my call. AugustSchmittheimer, a son of the widow, came to my office to-day to tell methat he is prepared to let you have the thirty-three feet in the rearof your lot at a merely nominal price--say two hundred dollars."

  I had cast envious eyes upon this particular strip of ground severaltimes. Alice had remarked that it would afford an ideal spot uponwhich to hang out the washing on Monday mornings; at other times itwould serve as a convenient playground for Josephine and littleErasmus. It really seemed like a special Providence that what we hadbeen wishing for should unexpectedly be thrust within our very grasp.

  "I think that we should have that extra strip by all means," said I;and then I added, by way of demonstrating the wisdom of my opinion toMr. Black: "We shall thus be enabled to enlarge our onion bed topretentious proportions."

  This argument must have convinced Mr. Black, for he remarked at oncethat he recognized the wisdom of acquiring the extra piece of land atthe bargain price suggested.

  "If it pleases you, then," said Mr. Denslow, "I will attend the firstthing in the morning to having the investigation into the title begun,and I suppose that within the next three days the deal can beconsummated and the property duly transferred to Mrs. Baker."

  Too often I do not think of the bright and felicitous thing to say ordo until it is too late. On this occasion, however, a really shrewdand happy thought occurred to me. The somewhat malicious purpose itcontemplated was justified, I claim, by the context (so to speak) ofevents.

  "Neighbor Denslow," said I, confidentially, "when it comes to thetransfer of that property please be so kind as to have the warrantydeed made to me."

  Mr. Denslow looked so surprised, and so did Mr. Black, that I deemed anexplanation necessary.