The Red Axe

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by S. R. Crockett


  CHAPTER XIV

  SIR AMOROUS IS PLEASED WITH HIMSELF

  For, as I say, women have curious ways, and there are a good many of themrecorded in this book. And yet more I have observed which I cannot findroom for in a chronicle of so many sad and bad and warlike happenings.But none of them all is more notable than this--that women, or at least(for it is no use saying "women," every one being different in temper,though like as pease in some things) many women, will permit that whichit suits them to be oblivious of, when if you ask them for permission ormake a favor of the matter, they will promptly flame sky-high withindignation. So my advice to the young man who honestly goes a-courtingis to keep talking earnestly, to occupy his mistress's attention withal,and progress in her favors during the abstractions of high discourse.

  Of course in this, as in all other similar enterprises, Sir Amorousmust have a certain trading-stock of favor to start with. But if hehave this much, 'tis not difficult to increase it by honest endeavor,and, as it were, the sweat of his brain. So at least I am told bythose who have proved it. Nevertheless, for myself, I have used nosuch nice refinements, but rather taken with thankfulness such thingsas came in my way.

  And now when I look back over my paper--lord! what a pother of writingabout it and about! But my excuse is that many young lads and gaybachelors will read this tale, so I desire to import what of instructionI can into it. And not having the learning of the clerks, I must e'enput in what wisdom I have gotten for myself in my passage through theworld. For I never could plough with another man's heifer--least of allwith that of a college-bred Mess John. Not but what Mess John knowethsomewhat of the lear of love also among the well-favored dames of thecity. Or else, by my faith, Mess John is sorely belied.

  But where was I in my tale? And if this present errant discourse beforgiven, surely I will not transgress again, but drive my team straightto the furrow's end and then back again, like an honest ploughman thathas his eye ever upon the guide-poles on the windy ridge.

  Well, the Little Playmate lifted a toad from her waist--I mean myhand--and dropped it as far from her as her arm would reach.

  And then after that she ran up-stairs, slammed the door of her ownchamber, and came not down to our nooning, so that old Hanne had to callher three times.

  And once, when I had occasion to cross the court-yard to the guard-house,I saw her standing pensively by the window. But so soon as she saw me shevanished within and was seen no more.

  Yet, indeed and indeed, as all may see, there was no cause for all thisfret. For I cared no more about Christian's Elsa than about Christianhimself--less, indeed, for Christian was a good soldier andmaster-at-arms, and taught me how to handle the match-lock, the pistolet,and the other new weapons that had begun to come in from France. Andoften upon Saturdays and wet days he would let me spend long mornings inthe armory with him, oiling and cleaning the ordnance. Which it certainlywas a great pleasure to do.

  And what if the little dumpling Elsa, with her red cheeks and her babyisheyes, did run in and out. Her father was ever with us, and even had Ibeen willing there was no opportunity for more than a word or a touch ofher fingers--well, save once, when her father went himself to seek thebottle of oil she had been sent to fetch, and was some time in findingit. But even that was a mere nothing, and might have happened to any one.

  But when I came home again that night, you would have thought that thewhole happening had been printed legibly on my face. The Little Playmatewould not let me come within a hundred miles of her. And it was "Keepyour distance, sirrah!" Not perhaps said in words, but expressed asclearly by the warlike angle of an arm, the contumelious hitch of ashoulder, or the scornful sweep of an adverse skirt.

  And all about nothing! Mighty Hector! I never saw such things as women.

  And yet in her good moments she would call me "Great Brother," and tellme that she thought only of my future welfare, desiring that I should notcompromise myself in any entanglement with such as were not worthy of me.Oh, a most wise and prudent counsellor was the Playmate in these days.

  And I used ever to say: "Helene, when I am truly in love I will e'enbring her here to you, and, by my faith, if you approve not--why, thereis an end of the matter. Back she goes to her mother like a parcel ofreturned goods--aye, if she were the Kaiser's daughter herself!"

  Whereat she pouted and was not ill-pleased.

  "Ah, my man," she would reply, "after a girl hath said you nay a time ortwo, it will bring you down from these high notions, and be much for yoursoul's final good!"

  But yet, when I could keep her in good-humor, it was exceedingly sweet tobide quietly in the house with the Little Playmate--far better than togad about with Texels and meandering fools, which indeed I didoftentimes just because it made my little lass so full of moods andtenses--like one of Friar Laurence's irregular verbs in his cursedHumanities. For there is nothing so variously delightful as a woman whenshe is half in love and half out of it--more interesting (say some)though less delightful than when she is all and whole in love.Nevertheless, there are exceptions, and one woman at least I know morevarious, and more delicious also, since love's ocean hath gone over herhead, than ever she was when, like a timid bather, she shivered on thebrink or made little fearful plunges, as it were knee-deep, and so ranout again.

  But I am not come to that in the story yet.

  Well, on the afternoon of the next day, who should come to the house inthe Red Tower but our Helene's gossip, for this week at least her bosomfriend, Katrin Texel. She was even more impressive in manner than ever,and also a little pleasanter to behold. For her angles were clothingthemselves into curves, and she was learning, perhaps from the LittlePlaymate, to leave off bouncing into a room like a cow at the trot, andto walk in sedately instead. By-and-by I knew she would come sailing downthe street like a towered galleon from the isles of Ind. For all that,she looked not ill--an academic study for Juno, one might say. But tomake love to--why, as Helene was wont to remark, _Feech!_

  And the curious thing about Katrin Texel was that though her corporealpart might be a direct inheritance from her Burgomeister father and hissubstantial brewery, her spirit had been designed for an artful fairy ofhalf her size, in order that it might go pirouetting into airy realms ofthe imagination. For she was gay enough and lightsome enough in herdemeanor. She came in with a skip which would have been entrancing insome elfish mignonne who could dance light-foot on spring flowers withoutcrushing them. But when this our solid Burgomagisterial Katrin trippedin, it nearly drove me wild with mirth. For it was as if some blandmaternal cow out of the pasture had skipped with a hop and a circle offlying skirts into a ballroom or a butterfly of two hundred pounds'weight had taken to flitting from flower to flower.

  And this Katrin talked in a quick, light voice, with ups and downs andskips and quivers in it, as spring-heeled as a chamois goat on themountains of the south.

  "Ah, Tiny-chen," she would cry, as she came undulating and cooing in toour Helene, "is it you, dearest? 'Tis as sweet to see you as for birds tokiss on bough! I have danced all day in the sunshine just to think that Ishould come to see you! And tell me why you have not been to visit me.Ah, bad one--cruelest--as cruel as she is pretty" (appealing to me), "isshe not? And there, our Michael, great oaf, sits at home desolated thathe does not hear her foot on the stairs. The foolish fellow tells me thathe listens for four little pit-a-pats every time that I come up from thecourt-yard, and is disappointed when there come back only my poor two."

  And Katrin becked and nodded and set her head to the side--like to thedivine Io-Cow playing at being little Jenny Wren.

  And as for me, I kept my gravity--or, rather, how could I lose it,hearing such nonsense about that great stupid beer-vat, Michael Texel.

  Michael Texel, indeed! I should admire to hear of Michael Texel so muchas raising his eyes to the Little Playmate. Why, I would stave him onthe open street like a puncheon of eight, and think nothing of thedoing of it.

  Michael Texel, indeed!

  But I
am forgetting. My business at this time was to make love to Katrin,so that I might banish the ill impression which Helene had formedconcerning that pleasant, harmless little Christian's Elsa over there. Inever heard anything so foolish in my life. But, then, what women willthink and say passes the imagination of man.

  Michael Texel indeed!

  The thought of that young man of beef and beer recurred so persistentlyand forcibly to me that for a time I could scarce command myself to speakcivilly to his sister. Though, of course, she was quite different, beinga woman, and informed with such a quick and dainty spirit that at timesit seemed as it had been imprisoned in her too massive frame and held "insubjection to the flesh," as the clerics say. God wot, I never knew I hadso much religion and morality about me till I came to write. If I do nothave a care this tale of mine will turn out almost as painful as a bookof devotion which they set children to read on saints' days to keep themfrom being over-happy.

  But I subdued my feelings and drew up somewhat nearer to Katrin.

  "My Little Sister--" so I began, cunningly, as I thought--"my sisterHelene is, indeed, fortunate to have so fair a friend, and one sodevoted--"

  "As my brother Michael, yes," she twittered, with her most ponderous,cage-bird manner; "yes, indeed, he _is_ devoted to her."

  "No," said I, hastily (confound the great hulking camel!), "I mean such afaithful friend as yourself. I, alas, have no friend. I am cut off fromall society of my kind. Often and often have I felt the weight ofloneliness press heavy upon me in this darksome tower."

  I saw Helene rise, go to the window, and glance across with such apeculiar smile that I knew as well as if I had seen her that Christian'sElsa was at her window with her music, looking across for me between eachbar. I cannot describe the smile which hovered on the face of the LittlePlaymate. But perhaps all the male beings who read my book may have seensomething like it. All that I can say is, that the smile conveyed analmost superhuman understanding of men and their little ways, and,curiously enough, something of contempt too.

  But I was not going to be discouraged by any smile, acid or sweet.Besides, I had something still to pay back.

  Michael Texel, indeed!--faith, by St. Blaise, I will Texel him tightly anhe comes sneaking to our gate!

  So again I drew yet nearer to his sister. Katrin dimpled and showed herteeth, with a smile like the sun going about the world, till I had almostput my hand behind her shoulders to catch the ends of it when it gotround. This illumination almost finished me, for it was not the kind ofsmile I had been accustomed to from--well, that was not the business Iwas on at present.

 

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