CHAPTER XVI.
AT LAST HE SECURES A TREASURE.
I had to pawn my watch to get away from Chicago, for the police failedto find my pretty widow. The thought of getting again under my mother'swing was as welcome as my desire to get away from it had been eager. Atnight my dreams were haunted by all sorts of horrible fire-works, whereold gentlemen sat down on powder-kegs, etc. Oh, for home! I knew therewere no widows in my native village, except Widow Green, and I was notafraid of her. Well, I took the cars once more, and I had been ridingtwo days and a night, and was not over forty miles from my destination,when the little incident occurred which proved to lead me into one ofthe worst blunders of all. It's _awful_ to be a bashful young man!Everybody takes advantage of you. You are the victim of practicaljokes--folks laugh if you do nothing on earth but enter a room. If youhappen to hit your foot against a stool, or trip over a rug, or call alady "sir," the girls giggle and the boys nudge each other, as if itwere extremely amusing. But to blow up a confiding Wall streetspeculator, and to be swindled out of all your money by a pretty widow,is enough to make a sensitive man a raving lunatic. I had all this tothink of as I was whirled along toward home. So absorbed was I inmelancholy reflection, that I did not notice what was going on until asudden shrill squawk close in my ear caused me to turn, when I foundthat a very common-looking young woman, with a by no means interestinginfant of six months, had taken the vacant half of my seat. I wasannoyed. There were plenty of unoccupied seats in the car, and I saw noreason why she should intrude upon my comfort. The infant shriekedwildly when I looked at it; but its mother stopped its mouth with one ofthose what-do-you-call-'ems that are stuck on the end of a flat bottlecontaining sweetened milk, and, after sputtering and gurgling in a vainattempt to keep on squalling, it subsided and went vigorously to work.It seemed after a time to become more accustomed to my harmless visage,and stared at me stolidly, with round, unwinking eyes, after it hadexhausted the contents of the bottle.
In about half an hour the train stopped at a certain station; theconductor yelled out "ten minutes for refreshments," the eating-houseman rang a big bell, and the passengers, many of them, hurried out.Then the freckle-faced woman leaned toward me.
"Are you goin' out?" said she.
"No," I replied, politely; "I am not far from home, and prefer waitingfor my lunch until I get there."
"WOULD YOU HOLD MY BABY WHILE I RUN IN AN' GET A CUP O'TEA?"]
"Then," said she, very earnestly, "would you hold my baby while I runin an' get a cup o' tea? Indeed, sir, I'm half famished, riding overtwenty-four hours, and only a biscuit or two in my bag, and I must getsome milk for baby's bottle or she'll starve."
It was impossible, under such circumstances, for one to refuse, thoughI would have preferred to head a regiment going into battle, forthere were three young ladies, about six seats behind me, who wereeating their lunch in the car, and I knew they would laugh at me;besides, the woman gave me no chance to decline, for she thrust thewide-eyed terror into my awkward arms, and rushed quickly out toobtain her cup of tea.
Did you ever see a bashful young man hold a strange baby? I expect Ifurnished--I and the baby--a comic opera, music and all, for theentertainment of the three girls, as they nibbled their cold chickenand pound-cake. For the mother had not been gone over fifteen secondswhen that confounded young one began to cry. I sat her down on my kneeand trotted her. She screamed with indignation, and grew so purple inthe face I thought she was strangling, and I patted her on the back.This liberty she resented by going into a sort of spasm, legs and armsflying in every direction, worse than a wind-mill in a gale.
"This will never do," I thought; at the same time I was positive Iheard a suppressed giggle in my rear.
A happy thought occurred to me--infants were always tickled withwatches! But, alas I had pawned mine. However, I had a gold locket inmy pocket, with my picture in it, which I had bought in Chicago, topresent to the widow, and didn't present: this I drew forth anddangled before the eyes of the little infernal threshing-machine.
The legs and arms quieted down; the fat hands grabbed the glitteringtrinket. "Goo--goo--goo--goo," said the baby, and thrust the locket inher mouth. I think she must have been going through the interestingprocess of teething, for she made so many dents in the handsome face,that it was rendered useless as a future gift to some fortunate girl,while the way she slobbered over it was disgusting. I scarcely regrettedthe ruin of the locket, I was so delighted to have her keep quiet; but,alas! the little wretch soon dropped it and began howling like tenthousand midnight cats. I trotted her again--I tossed her--I laid herover my knees on her stomach--I said "Ssh--ssh--ssssh--sssssh!" all invain. Instead of ten minutes for refreshments it seemed to me that theygave ten hours.
In desperation I raised her and hung her over my shoulder, rising atthe same time and walking up and down the aisle. The howling ceased:but now the young ladies, after choking with suppressed laughter,finally broke into a scream of delight. Something must be up! I tookthe baby down and looked over my shoulder--the little rip had openedher mouth and sent a stream of white, curdy milk down the back of mynew overcoat. For one instant the fate of that child hung in thebalance. I walked to the door, and made a movement to throw her tothe dogs; but humanity gained the day, and I refrained.
I felt that my face was redder than the baby's; every passengerremaining in the car was smiling. I went calmly back, and laid herdown on the seat, while I took off my coat and made an attempt toremove the odious matters with my handkerchief, which ended by mythrowing the coat over the back of the seat in disgust, resolving thatmother would have to finish the job with her "Renovator." Myhandkerchief I threw out of the window.
Thank goodness! the engine bell was ringing at last and the peoplecrowding back into the train.
I drew a long breath of relief, snatched the shrieking infant upagain, for fear the mother would blame me for neglecting her uglybrat--and waited.
"All aboard!" shouted the conductor; the bell ceased to ring, thewheels began to revolve, the train was in motion.
"Great Jupiter Ammen!" I thought, while a cold sweat started out allover me, "she will be left!"
The cars moved faster and more mercilessly fast; the conductorappeared at the door; I rose and rushed toward him, the baby in myarms, crying:
"For Heaven's sake, conductor, stop the cars!"
"What's up?" he asked.
"What's up? Stop the cars, I say! Back down to the station again!_This baby's mother's left!_"
"Then she left on purpose," he answered coolly; "she never went intothe eating-house at all. I saw her making tall tracks for the trainthat goes the other way. I thought it was all right. I didn't noticeshe hadn't her baby with her. I'll telegraph at the next station;that's all that can be done now."
This capped the climax of all my previous blunders! Why had I blindlyconsented to care for that woman's progeny? Why? why? Here was I, JohnFlutter, a young, innocent, unmarried man, approaching the home of mychildhood with an infant in my arms! The horror of my situation turnedme red and pale by turns as if I had apoplexy or heart disease.
There was always a crowd of young people down at the depot of ourvillage; what would they think to see me emerge from the cars carryingthat baby? Even the child seemed astonished, ceasing to cry, andstaring around upon the passengers as if in wonder and amazement atour predicament. Yet not one of those heartless travelers seemed topity me; every mouth was stretched in a broad grin; not a woman cameforward and offered to relieve me of my burden; and thus, in the midstof my embarrassment and horror, the train rolled up to the well-knownstation, and I saw my father and mother, and half the boys and girlsof the village, crowding the platform and waiting to welcome myarrival.
The Blunders of a Bashful Man Page 16