“Life is a lottery,” sighed our landlady, as she fastened one end of her bangs which had become loose and dropped down; “an’ it’s a wonder they don’t pass a law agin’ living for that reason. A good many folks come to Aberdeen an’ invested, and now howls because there’s come a little backset and they’d like to git out. Why, even Frank Hagerty says to me the other day, ‘I’ve just come from West Surperior,’ says he, ‘an’ it makes me tired to think as I must stay in Aberdeen, an’ can’t git where the rustle is.’
“‘Frank,’ says I, ‘it’s just like a feller gittin’ married; he may git a good woman but a homely one, an’ when he sees han’somer women he may hanker arter ‘em, an’ think his ole woman is no good. But it ain’t no use; you’re tied an’ you must make the best of it, an’ ten chances to one you’ll get more solid comfort out o’ that ole woman than you would if you had one o’ them lively beauties that wear out quick. The honeymoon of Aberdeen’s boom prosperity has wore off but she’s good an’ solid yit, an’ there’s lots o’ solid prosperity and comfort to be got outer her. Be true to her — don’t hanker arter the flesh-pots o’ Tennessee an’ Huron an’ West Superior, an’ you’ll make more solid money outer your first love than you could outer a hundred towns that goes up like a rocket and comes down like a stick!’”
“Did he see the force of your argument?” asked the colonel, curiously.
“He did. ‘It were a temporary weakness, Mrs. Bilkins,’ says he, ‘an’ you can put me down to stick harder nor any fly paper in Ameriky.’ An’ he’ll do it. But he’s only one of ‘em. If Aberdeen folks would all go to work to make the most outer their town, an’ shut their eyes to the outside world, it wouldn’t be long before we would be the most prosperous community in the northwest. I ain’t talkin’ to hear myself talk. I may keep a boardin’-house, but I knows my business an’ a good many other folkses business, too!”
She Discourses on the “Hard Times Club,” and tells a Story
11 October 1890
“One of the nonsensicalist things I’ve heard of,” said our landlady, as she skimmed the milk carefully and poured the blue fluid into the cream jug, “is that ‘air Hard Times Club. It may be a funny thing to talk about, but what’ll it amount to?”
“I haven’t heard of it,” replied the doctor, as he picked a spoiled fly out of his coffee.
“Why, the young fellers is realizin’ that if they go inter serciety this winter they can’t pay their board bills, an’ if they pay their board bills they can’t monkey much with serciety. An’ so they thunk up a scheme to revolutionize serciety itself and still keep the future voters with ‘em, an’ they calls this ijea the Hard Times Club.”
“Who belongs to it?” asked the colonel, as he broke a piece from his toast with several powerful blows of the carving knife handle, and soaked it in his coffee.
“Oh, lots of ‘em. There’s Wendell, an’ Winsor, an’ Waterman, an’ Milligan, an’ Sam Vroom, an’ Skip, an’ Corwin, an’ lots more. They wanted Al. Ward fer president but Al. he said times were too hard. You see, he knew he’d have ter set ‘em up if he accepted an’ so they made him Outer Guard instead, where his expenses will be light. Doc Fowler wanted ter join, but they told him there was a limit to everything, an’ no man what smoked ten cent cigars could enter their sacred precincts. Married men can’t belong. As ex-Governor Loucks wrote ‘em when he declined to run fer treasurer o’ the club, says he: ‘they must lie in the beds theys made fer themselves an’ if they hain’t got any beds they must lie anyway.” That may sound like a Loucks argument, but the club adopted it unanimous!”
“What is their plan of operation?” asked Tom, looking lovingly at his one nickel.
“Why, they’re goin’ to give a series of parties. The gals will furnish the music theirselves, and the club will meet at each other’s houses — that is, those that’s got houses. The refreshments is limited to crackers an’ cheese an’ spring water, and the gentlemen is allowed to dance in their stocking feet, so no shoe leather will be wore out unnecessary.
“The gals will furnish the refreshments an’ also one small boy to be paid by the gals’ fathers, to carry the club overcoat from one member to another on the nights o’ the parties. In this way all can wear the overcoat by turns an’ avoid beatin’ the clothing stores outer more’n one garment.”
“I’d like to join that club,” declared Tom.
“And I,” said the colonel.
“And I,” said the doctor.
“It’s got eighty-four members now,” said Mrs. Bilkins, “an’ the number’s increasin’ every day. August Witte were innishiated yesterday. No one can jine that don’t want more’n he’s got the money to pay for.
“The club’s goin’ to boycot all the banks and collectors and has passed a resolution to ignore the conterbution boxes in all the churches. Oh, it’s a fine idee, an’ll help the boys out amazin’.
“I hear the city’s goin’ to economize too. When the uncommon council wanted to discharge Street-comish Lewis our Cholly got up an’ said they might jest as well discharge the mayor. ‘Why don’t you?’ said one o’ the fathers. ‘Well,’ says Cholly, ‘I move we discharge Mayor Moody.’ There was a bust of applause at this, but one o’ the uncommon upset the deal by sayin’, ‘I move an amendment that we discharge the mayor an’ all the common council, an’ let Cholly run the city!’ That made everybody laugh an’ peace was restored. But it wasn’t a bad idee an’ if the amendment had carried I don’t know but what we’d been just as well off anyhow!”
She Confides to the Boarders a Deal to Advance the Cause of Equal Suffrage
18 October 1890
“Sometimes,” said our landlady as she deftly stopped a hole in the coffee pot with a small piece of the dishrag, “I think the world is all goin’ wrong, an’ then, when I gits all discouraged, suthin’ comes up to set it right agin. It’s pritty evenly balanced, to tell the truth, an’ them as philosophizes can see the good in human natur’.”
“When you moralize,” said Tom, finishing a sad inspection of his laundry list, “I know there is something in the wind. What is it, Mrs. Bilkins?”
“Well,” she answered, “it’s rayther a private matter, an’ I agreed not ter let it git out.”
“But,” protested the colonel, getting excited at the prospect that something was being withheld from his knowledge, “we are all members of one family, my dear Mrs. Bilkins, and it is only right that we should know anything that concerns you.”
“Won’t you tell?” she asked hesitatingly.
“Never!” declared the doctor, and the others looked as solemn and virtuous as possible and shook their heads.
“Well then,” began our landlady, “I’ve bin a good deal bothered to know how to boom Ekal Suffridge at the polls. The C’mittee wants us to set up the refreshments, but the grocers is onto the deal and has all adopted the cash sistem to avoid donatin’ anything to the good cause. When you set out to refresh a lot o’ voters you’ve got a big job on hand. They’ll drink more coffee an’ eat more san’wiches nor Pharaoh’s army, an’ they’ll wipe their mouths on the tablecloth an’ go off an’ vote agin’ ekal suffridge an’ then come back an’ eat agin. It’s this thing that got me kinder discuridged like. If we only had the means to give each voter a free dose o’ fizik, as John Firey is promisin’ to do fer any one as votes fer him, we might git along. They wouldn’t hang around like they does at the refreshment tables, but would vote quick and run. But fizik ain’t in our line an’ so I got discuridged. But yesterday a little feller with archery legs an’ a convalessin’ mustash comes an’ knocks at the door an’ says, ‘Slacker rick em stan flor a’ crummin.’
“‘Nix cum a rouse,’ says I.
“‘Oxcuse me,’ says he, ‘I thought you was a Norske woman.’
“‘No,’ says I, ‘I’m a Yankee.’
“‘Well,’ says he, ‘is this the charmin’ Miss’ Bilkinses dear baardin’ house?’” ‘No sir,’ says I, ‘this’ ere is the cheapest
boardin’ house, countin’ by receets, in the Unitid States of Americky. But who air you, sir?’
“‘Feel-yer-paw,’ says he.
“‘No,’ says I, with kinder virtuous indignity, ‘I won’t feel yer paw til I knows who ye air.’
“‘That’s my name,’ says he, with a sort o’ sad an’ reproachful smile.
“‘Oh,’ says I, struck all of a heap, ‘you’re the injipendent what wants ter be county treasurer.’
“‘Them’s my sentiments, mom,’ says he.
“‘Next year,’ says I, ‘I’ll talk to yer, but this year I can’t vote.’
“‘But you’re on the ekal suffridge c’mittee,’ says he, ‘an’ I thought perhaps we could make a deal. Ye see I’m chock full o’ deals. I ain’t the sort o’ stuff what gives up when I knows I’m beat. If there’s anything in deals I mean to worry Frank Raymond into an early grave ‘afore election.’
“Well, here was my chance. Here was the means to feed the hungry voters on election day. ‘What’s yer deal?’ says I.
“‘Well,’ says he, ‘it’s jest this. Nearly every blamed injipendent is a ekal suffragist, but all the ekal suffridgists ain’t injipendents by a blamed sight.
Now if you people will git all the suffragists to vote fer me I’ll agree to git all the injipendents to vote for ekal suffridge, an’ more’n that, I’ll pay fer all the refreshibles when I git hold er the county money.’
“‘Will you?’ says I, joyfully.
“‘You bet I will,’ says he, ‘an’ I’ll send ye down from my store in Frederick six cans o’ mackerel fer sandwiches an’ a gallon o’ molasses to sweeten the coffee free of charge.’
“Well, I was that flumbusterkated that I fell on his neck an’ he fell on the table an’ the table fell on the cat. But we signed the agreement in black an’ white an’ the cause is safe. What do you think o’ that deal?”
“Ahem!” said the colonel, “it seems a good one for Fylpaa, but what will you get out of it?”
“What?” replied our landlady in amazement, “why, vittles — that’s what we’ll git; an’ it seems ter me that you’ve lived long enough at this here boardin’ house ter appreciate what vittles is.”
“Yes,” returned the colonel, slowly, “I think I have.”
She Relates some Exciting Ancedotes and Attends the Independent Barbecue
25 October 1890
“I can’t understand,” said our landlady, as she began clearing off the table just in time to prevent the colonel from helping himself to a third piece of pie, “why there’s such a rush to git married jest when the cool weather comes on. This marryin’ goes in streaks, I’ve noticed. It’s like a drove o’ cattle; they hesitate a long time about crossin’ the road, but when one gits over the others go with a rush. But there’s one o’ the wictims that come pretty nigh losin’ his gal this week.”
“How was that?” asked Tom.
“Why he thought he’d jest take a little nap ‘afore the ceremony to gain strength, an’ so he laid down an’ went ter sleep. An’ the folks got all ready an’ went ter church, an’ the bride an’ her folks waited an’ waited and behold the bridegroom didn’t cometh. An’ his best man got skeert and rushed up ter his room an’ found him in bed.
“‘George,’ says he, ‘fer God’s sake git up!’
“‘Bankrupt stock,’ says George, beginin’ to wake up, ‘sell’ em fer half price.’” ‘Great Heavings, man! air you mad?’ yells his best man, pullin’ him onter the floor.
“‘S’matter,’ says George, rubbin’ his eyes, ‘fire?’
“‘No, no!’
“‘Murder?’
“‘No! wuss, you loonatix, wuss! It’s a weddin’!’
“An’ then the happy bridesgroom remembered and jumped inter his swallertail quicker’n Harvey Jewett could foreclose on a grocery store. But when they got to the church the minister was missin’. An’ so the best man rushed up ter his room and found him asleep too.
“‘Arise, Revenue Doc.,’ says he, ‘put on your togs an’ walk, or you’ll miss your fee!’ An’ the Revenue Doc. leaped with one jump inter his clothes, an’ rushed to the church, and skinned up the middle ile, an’jest missed a harrowin’ death be failin’ through the register, an’ then he did lightnin’ change act an’ come forth serene in his pontifical robes an’ did the job up to the everlastin’ satisfaction o’ the contractin’ parties. An’ the audience never knew how near they missed seein’ the show. The only great mistake he made was to make the groom say as he’d” obay” the bride, but as wee’l join we’er goin’? ter have ekal suffridge, that ain’t a bad innovation.”
“Some queer things happen in life,” said the doctor, “and many exciting incidents never come to the knowledge of the public.”
“That’s true,” quoth our landlady, “now I don’t usually run to a fire, but I did galivant up ter that one at Coe’s the other mornin’, and I wouldn’t a’ missed it fer a farm. The wall got afire back of the gasoline stove, an’ the smoke went ‘atween the ceilin’ boards and oozed out ‘atween the shingles on the roof. Miss Coe she put the fire out in a jiffy, and when the trouble was all over up galloped the chief o’ the fire department followed by the hose cart an’ the whole town. The smoke was still a pourin’ gently through the shingles, as it hadn’t had time ter escape, an’ it set ‘em all crazy.
“‘Hitch onter that’ air hydrant!’ yelled the chief, an’ the men yelled an’ cussed an’ tumbled over each other, an’ fit an’ cussed agin an’ hitched on. By that time the crowd had jumped onter the little roof and begun to tear off the shingles an’ the roof-boards with pickaxes an’ they played the hose onter the smoke till it didn’t have the heart to show itself any more. An’ the bystadders bossed the job an’ hooted an’ told the firemen their business an’ the excitement run high, I tell ye. It was nigh noon ‘afore the excitement calmed down an’ I got a chance to go in an’ see that the fire had damaged the buildin’ about $5 wuth and the firemen about $145 wuth. That’s the way with fires, but they’re a heap sight more excitein’ than a injipendent barbecue on a cold day.”
“Oh, you attended it, did you?” asked the colonel.
“Yes. I don’t often miss a free feed — an’ at heart you can bet l’m a injipendent fust, last an’ in between. But the grub was disappointin’. It didn’t have no salt on it, an’ the first piece I got was burnt to a crisp. ‘Gimme some a little rarer,’ says I ter my friend, Feelyerpaw. He did, but it were so rare that it hadn’t really got baked through, an’ so I quit eatin’ an’ went around advisin’ the wimmen an’ children an’ a few men I found not to eat nothin’ or they’d die o’ dyspepsia ‘afore election day. An’ I made up my mind then an’ there that the next time I went ter a barbecue I’d stay to home and eat pancakes, an’ I’ll come out ahead!”
She Gets Her Dander up and Goes Back on Politics
1 November 1890
“Yesterday night,” said our landlady, as she set the table carefully, and arranged a knife, fork and spoon beside each boarder’s plate, “were All-halloween an’ there were quite a select party held ter celebrate the event.”
“Did you go?” asked Tom, eying the table hungrily.
“You bet I did, an’ I’m glad of it, although I feel almost as rocky as the fellers did as went ter Columbia We’nsday night. All the boys was with our party, an’ the fust thing we done was to bob fer apples. As apples is high priced this year everybody laid ‘emselves out to git suthin’. Tommy Camburn he bobbed fer an appel marked ‘apintment,’ but it had so much Moody grease on it that he couldn’t get hold. Johnnie Drake he bobbed fer another ‘appintment’ appel, an’ cried because he said Jumper had hoodooed it. Jump he bobbed fer an appel marked ‘popularity,’ but it were too smooth fer his teeth. Hank Williams were after a boodle appel an Johnnie Firey fit him so hard they didn’t either of ‘em git it. Billy Kidd grabbed a appel marked’ injipendents truths,’ an’ found it rotton inside, an’ Frank Brown’s ‘speculation’ appel were as holler
as a drum. Slosser wanted the biggest appel they was there, an’ he got his fangs on it, too, but when he opened it, it were full o’ wind and gaul an’ he didn’t seem ter enjoy it much. Elder McBride got his eye on the ‘Pierre’ appel an’ worked like a nailer for it, but when he got it he found it stuffed with bogus checks and mortgaged lots, an’ the dominie looked kinder sad arter that.
“Then the boys tried goin’ down cellar backerds with a candle an’ a lookin’ glass. Johnnie Firey nearly fainted when he saw Hank Williams dressed as Fate lookin’ over his shoulder, an’ Judge Crofoot smiled kinder meloncolic at the reflection o’ Johnnie Adams in his lookin’-glass. August Witte got skeert at seein’ Bob Moody smile outer the glass at him, an’ Cholly Howard saw a picter where all the common council was on their knees beggin’ ter him fer help. All Dan Shields saw was a big dollar an’ a packidge of Cholly Harris’ stickers an’ he groaned in speerit because he couldn’t git the dollar.
“Finally I got disgusted with the hull thing an’ when Jim Ringrose suggested that it would be more fun to go out and ring door bells, I come home feelin’ as mad as a wet hen.”
“It seems to me that that is your natural condition. The world don’t agree with you.”
“It may be I’m soured,” snapped our landlady in answer to the impertinent remark of the colonel’s, “but I think it’s most enough to sour anybody, the way this political champaign is a goin’. Take the capital fight, for instance. There’s more dirty work done by the real estate robbers o’ Pierre and Huron in one day than there is by the biggest pack o’ thieves in the country in a hull year. I hain’t got nothin’ agin’ the towns, mind ye, it’s the people as is runnin’ them as is disgustin’ everybody that is anybody. If I had a right to vote next Tuesday I’d jest vote fer Bath fer the capital an’ keep my self respec’. But the wimmin don’t vote yet, er things would be different.”
Complete Works of L. Frank Baum Page 807