The Wit and Humor of America, Volume V. (of X.)

by Finley Peter Dunne

"Hide!" she commanded in sudden panic.

  He promptly hid, and when Adnah arrived with the bathing suits, thatyoung lady found her aunt calmly seated on the ground, holding Castorand Pollux each by a dripping collar.

  "Leave my suit and return to the house at once with these dogs,"directed Aunt Matilda without turning her head.

  "Why, Aunt Mattie, what's the matter?"

  "Nothing!" snapped Aunt Matilda in desperation. "Go back to the houseand stay until I come. Ask no questions."

  Adnah searched the scene in mystification for a moment.

  "Yes, aunty," she suddenly said, and walked away in a flutter ofexcitement. She had caught the gleam of a bright eye peering at her fromamong the willows!

  She burst into a spontaneous rhapsody of song as she went, trilling andwarbling in sweet, untaught cadences, unconsciously like a bird singingto its mate in the springtime. She had a wonderful voice. The young manwas sorry when she was out of hearing, but glad, too, for the water wasbeginning to pucker his cuticle in hard ridges like a wash-board.

  "Now, young man," said Aunt Matilda, "I shall leave this bathing suithere for your use. I shall expect you to put it on and retire from thepremises as quickly as possible."

  "I must remain until nightfall," was the firm reply. "I must find mymoney and clothes. I should feel ridiculous to be seen in such clothingas that. You, yourself, would scarcely care to have me seen emergingfrom your premises, on Sunday especially, in such outlandish garments."

  That last argument told. Aunt Matilda visibly weakened.

  "Very well, then," she grudgingly agreed, "but at dusk--Mercy, youngman, how your teeth do chatter! Are you getting a chill? I'll bring youa bowl of boneset tea and some dinner right away!" and she hurried offin much concern.

  The young man lost no time in getting into that bathing suit, for thechill of the water was upon him. The suit consisted merely of a pair ofblue bloomers that came just below his knees, and a blue blouse thatsplit down the back and at the armpits the moment he buttoned it infront; still he was very grateful for it--grateful for the warm glowthat began to pervade him the moment he had donned it. He put on his onesock and his shoes, his hat, collar, tie and cuffs to keep the dogs fromgetting them, and was quite comfortable when Aunt Matilda came bustlingback with a bowl of steaming tea and a tray loaded with good things toeat.

  She sat by admiring his appetite until he had finished, then she madehim drink the boneset tea to the last drop. He talked admirably allthrough the "dinner," and it was with a sigh of almost regret that shestarted away with the empty dishes. She came back presently.

  "You will find our summer cottage up in that direction," she pointedout. "We shall expect you to--to keep out of range during the day, butto report at the kitchen door at dusk, when you will be escorted to theroad."

  "I shall follow your instructions to the letter," he assured her, andshe again slowly walked away. To save her, the man-hater could not thinkof another reasonable excuse for prolonging the interview. He was a mostgentlemanly young man, and he had splendid eyes!

  The male trespasser spent the next hour in hunting clothes andanathematizing dogs. His finds were confined strictly to rags andpairless arms and sleeves, and finally he gave up, with everythingaccounted for but worthless. Discovering a high, grassy plot near thecreek, screened from the woods by a thick copse of hazel bushes, he laydown to think matters over and promptly fell asleep.

  Perhaps half an hour later he slowly opened his eyes with the feelingthat he was being compelled to awaken, and found Adnah seated quietlybeside him, keeping the mosquitoes away from him with a gracefully wavedhazel branch.

  "Just sleep right on," she gently urged. "I often sleep for hours on hotafternoons in this very place."

  "How did you come here?" he demanded, sitting up, startled.

  "I hunted you," she confessed with a delighted little laugh. "I'm soglad you're awake at last and don't want to sleep any more. I felt justsure that your eyes were blue. And they are!"

  Her delight at this fact was so obvious that he felt uneasy.

  "You see, I listened outside the window while Aunt Mattie told Aunts Annand Sarah all about you," she confidingly went on. "Aunt Sarah and AuntAnn were for telephoning for the sheriff anyhow, but Aunt Mattiewouldn't let them. She likes you. So do I."

  "Oh!" said the astonished young man. For the first time in his lifeconversation had failed him.

  "Of course," said the girl simply. "Well, I waited until they all laydown for their after-dinner naps, and climbed out of my window so as notto disturb them. They do enjoy their naps so much, you know. I didn'tfind you at the pool but I just hunted until I did find you. I've beensitting here a long time watching you. You look so nice when you areasleep."

  _Now_ what should he say? With any ordinary girl he could have foundthe answer, but this one had him floored.

  "But you look ever so much nicer when you are awake," she furtherinformed him, with a clear-eyed straightforwardness that was worse thandisconcerting. In desperation he answered, with her own frankness, thatshe was nice looking herself. He meant it, too.

  "I'm so glad you think so," she contentedly sighed. "I just knew weshould like each other as soon as I saw you lying there asleep."

  It was he who blushed, not the girl.

  She partly raised up to recapture her hazel branch, and when she satdown again her shoulder remained lightly touching his arm. An electricthrill ran through him and tingled out at his fingertips, but he nevermoved a muscle. She looked up at him in peaceful happiness and hesomehow felt very mean and unworthy. Her eyes made him uncomfortable.The whole trouble was that she was so honest--had never been taught toconceal her thoughts by the thousand and one spoken and unspoken lies ofordinary social intercourse. She was neither timid nor bold, but merelynatural, with never a suspicion that conventionality demanded a man anda maid to leave a mutual liking unconfessed. It was rather rough on theyoung man. He was not used to having the truth fly around in suchreckless fashion in his conversations with girls, and it bothered him.

  "I'm not a bit afraid of you," she presently told him. "I knew all thetime that Aunt Mattie was wrong. She told me that all men were dreadful,and that the first thing they did was to--to kiss a girl they liked."

  "She knows nothing about it," he replied rather crossly. For someunaccountable reason he was angry with himself and with her.

  "Indeed, she doesn't," she agreed, eying him thoughtfully. Presently sheadded: "I do not believe, though, that I should have minded it so muchif she had been right."

  Shade of Plato! He looked down at the tempting curve of her red lips.They were round and full and soft as the petals of a half-blown rosebud,warm and tender and sweet, with just the least trace of puckering toindicate how they could meet the pressure of other lips. He felt hisheart come pounding up into the region of his Adam's apple, and hetrembled as he had not done since his first attack of puppy love at theage of fourteen. His breath came and went with a painful flutter but hemade no movement. If it had been any sort of a girl under the sun,especially if so attractive as this one, she would have been kisseduntil she gasped for breath; but he just couldn't do it. However, if shewent so far as to _ask_ him to kiss her, _by George_! he didn't see howhe was to get out of it!

  "I should really like to kiss you," he admitted with a martyr-like sighand a further echo of her own frankness, "but I shan't. Under thecircumstances it would not be right."

  He reflected, grinning, that mother would be proud if she could see himnow, then he thought, grinning harder, of the boys at the club. If_they_ only knew!

  "There, didn't I say so!" she triumphantly exclaimed. "I told AuntMatilda that there certainly must be _some_ good men in the world!"

  Good! He winced as certain memories of his careless youth began to docake-walks up and down his conscience. Then he changed the subject.

  She snuggled up closely to him, by and by, confidingly and unsuspicious,and just talked and talked and talked. It was very pleasant to have herthere
at his side, babbling innocently away in that sweet, musicalvoice. How pretty she was, how artless and trusting, how honest and howheart-whole! It came to him that his family and friends had for a longtime been telling him that he ought to get married, and he began to seethat they were right.

  How delightful it would be to stay on forever in this enchanted grovewith her. He presently found himself fervently saying it, though he hadnot intended such words to pass his lips. She took the wish as a matterof course. She had confidently expected him to feel that way about it,and, if he felt that way, to say so.

  "Adnah Eggleson!"

  They jumped like juvenile jam-thieves caught red-handed.

  Aunt Sarah and Aunt Ann and Aunt Matilda rigidly confronted them, havingstolen upon them unseen, unheard, unthought of, and they stood now ingrim horror, merciless and implacable. They advanced in a swooping body,after one moment of agonizing suspense, and snatched Adnah into theirmidst, glaring three kinds of loathing scorn upon the interlopingserpent.

  "Has this person _kissed_ you, or attempted to do so?" hissed AuntSarah.

  "Not yet," meekly answered poor Adnah.

  "I assure you ladies--," began the serpent, but Aunt Sarah cut himshort.

  "Silence, sir!" she commanded. "We wish no explanations from you,whatsoever."

  Thus crushing him, the little company wheeled and marched away, bearingAdnah an unwilling and impenitent captive, two of them ingeniouslykeeping behind her so that she should have no opportunity of evenexchanging a backward glance with the serpent.

  Left to himself the serpent moodily kicked holes in the turf. He had anintense desire to do something violent--to smash something, no matterwhat. He was furious with the trio of aunts. It was a shame, he toldhimself, to bury alive a beautiful and noble young woman like that,through a warped and mistaken notion of the world. What right had theyto condemn a sweet and affectionate creature such as she to a starvedand morbid spinsterhood? It was his duty to rescue her from thecolorless fate that hung over her, and he would do his duty. He wasunconsciously flexing his biceps as he said it.

  Would he? How? Should he get out a search warrant or a writ of replevin?This whimsical view of the case only exasperated him the more as itpresented the utter hopelessness of approaching her--of ever seeing heragain--and, when the dogs came chasing an utterly inconsequential anduseless butterfly in his direction, he pelted them with stones untilthey yelped. Hang the dogs, anyhow. It was all their fault!

  Next he blamed himself. If he had only resisted that creek like a man hewouldn't have been a hundred miles from home without clothes or money,and silly about a girl he had never seen until that day.

  Then he blamed the girl. Why, _why_ was she such a confiding andaltogether artless and bewitching little fool? She wasn't! He rememberedher eyes and abjectly apologized to the memory of her. She waseverything that was sweet and pure and womanly--everything that wasdesirable in every sense--well-bred, well-schooled, unspoiled of theworld, without guile or subterfuge, beautiful, healthy, honest. That hadbeen the only startling thing about her--just honesty. It spoke ill forhimself and the world in which he lived that this should have seemedstartling! What a wonderful creature she was! By the Eternal, shebelonged to him and he meant to have her! She loved him, too!

  He sat down on the bank to think over this phase of the question. He hadknown her several years in the minute and a half since noon, and it wastime this foolishness came to an end.

  Time flies when youth listens to the fancied strains of Mendelssohn'sSpring Song. He was surprised, presently, to note a strange hushsettling down over the woods. A chill vapor seemed to arise from thewater. There was a melancholy note in the tweet of the low-flittingbirds. The rustling trees softened their murmur to a continuous whisper,soothing and caressing. The tinkle of the creek became more metallic andpronounced. Near by, down the stream, a sudden chorus of frogs burstinto croaking, their isolated notes blended by the chirping undertone ofthe crickets and tree toads. There were other sounds, mysterious,untraceable, but all musical in greater or lesser degree.

  He understood at last. These sounds, the rustling leaves, the flittingbirds, the tinkling creek, the frogs, tree toads and crickets and thoseother intangible cadences, these were the instruments of nature's vastorchestra, playing their lullaby, languorous and sweet, for the drowsyday. It was dusk, and he was desperately in love with Adnah, and he hadon a fool bloomer bath suit and no money, and he had to go back intocivilization just as he was. Woe, woe, woe and anathema!

  At the house he found a table set under a big oak tree back of thekitchen. Supper for one was illumined by the rays of a solitary lantern.Aunt Sarah and Aunt Ann, each with a pistol in her lap, sat grimly toone side. Adnah nor Aunt Matilda were anywhere to be seen, and hedivined with a thrill that Aunt Matilda was acting as jailer to theyoung woman until he should be safely off the premises. Evidently shehad been hard to manage. Bless the little girl!

  He took off his hat as he approached and bowed respectfully.

  "I should like you to know who I am," he began.

  "You will please to eat your supper without conversation," Aunt Sarahsternly interrupted.

  "I wish to pay my addresses to your niece," he protested, but the twoladies, finding rudeness necessary, clasped their hands to their ears.

  "Kindly eat," said Aunt Sarah, without removing her hands.

  He sat down and glared at the food in despair. He thought he heardAdnah's voice and the sounds of a scuffle in the house, and it gave himinspiration. He arose, and, leaning his hands on the edge of the table,shouted as loudly as he could:

  "I am John Melton, of Philadelphia. I will give you as many referencesas you like. I wish your permission to write to your niece and, lateron, to call upon her. May I do so?"

  "Are you going to eat your supper?" inquired Aunt Sarah.

  He gave up. He could not, as a gentleman, take Aunt Sarah's hands fromher ears and make her listen to what he had to say. He turned sadly awayfrom the table. The armed escort also arose.

  "Please lead the way," requested Aunt Sarah. "The path leads directlyfrom the front of the cottage to the road."

  He had stalked, in dismal silence, almost half way down the windingavenue of trees, moodily watching the gigantic shadows of his limbsleaping jerkily among the shrubbery, when it occurred to him that thewomen could scarcely carry the lantern and pistols and still hold theirears.

  "I am John Melton, of Philadelphia," he shouted, and looked back toaddress them more directly. Alas, the pistols reposed in the pockets ofthe two prim aprons, the lantern smoked askew at Aunt Sarah's waist, andboth women were holding their hands to their ears!

  He could not know that they had been whispering about him, however, andreally, for man-haters, their remarks had been very complimentary. Noteven that ridiculous costume could hide his athletic figure, his goodcarriage and pleasant address.

  They were nearing the road when they heard a woman's voice shrieking forthem to wait, and presently Aunt Matilda came running after them,breathless and excited.

  "You must come back to the house at once, all of you," she panted."Adnah is wildly hysterical. She insists that she must have this youngman, monster or no monster--that she will die without him. I trulybelieve that she would!"

  "Nonsense!" exclaimed Aunt Sarah. "Come on, then!"

  It was Aunt Sarah who swiftly and anxiously led the way. At the door ofthe parlor she paused and confronted the young man.

  "Remember," she warned, "that however impulsive our poor, misguidedniece may appear, you _must_ not kiss her!"

  Without waiting for reply she opened the door for him. Adnah, smilinghappily through the last of her tears, sprang to meet him, and, seizinghis hand, drew him down on the couch beside her.

  "I'm going to keep you here always, now," she declared with prettyauthority, as she locked her arm in his and interlaced their fingers.

  He looked around at the aunts and suddenly longed for his own clothes.They had drawn their chairs in a close semi-c
ircle about the couch andwere helplessly staring. He felt the hot blood burning in his cheeks, onhis temples, down the back of his neck.

  "You _will_ stay, won't you?" Adnah anxiously asked him.

  "I think I shall take you with me, instead," he replied, smiling down ather in an attempt to conquer his embarrassment.

  Adnah rapturously sighed. The spectators suddenly arose, retiring to thefar corner of the room, where they held an excited, whisperedconsultation. Presently they came back and sat down in the same solemnhalf-circle. Aunt Sarah ceremoniously cleared her throat.

  "You will please to unclasp your hands and sit farther apart," shedirected. This obeyed, she proceeded: "Now, Mr. Nelson--"

  "Melton, if you please," corrected the young man, producing a businesscard that he had rescued.

  "Oh!" exclaimed the aunts, exchanging wondering glances.

  "We understood that it was Nelson," murmured Aunt Matilda. It seemedthat the hands had not been so tightly clasped over the ears as he hadthought.

  Aunt Sarah gravely adjusted her glasses.

  "'John Melton, Jr.,'" she read. "'Representing Melton and Melton,Administrators and Real Estate Dealers. General John A. Melton. JohnMelton, Jr.'"

  There was a suppressed flutter of excitement and again the three auntsexchanged surprised glances.

  "I think I may safely say, may I not, Sisters Ann and Matilda, that thisquite alters the case?" was Aunt Sarah's strange query.

  "Quite so, indeed," agreed Aunt Matilda, complacently smoothing herapron.

  "Very much so," added Aunt Ann.

  "Decidedly," resumed Aunt Sarah. "Your father, young man, handled theestate of our deceased Uncle Peter in a most upright and satisfactoryfashion--for a man. So far, much is in your favor, since our unfortunateniece will not be contented without some sort of a husband. Yourpersonal qualifications have yet to be proved, however. We presume thatyou can offer documentary evidence as to your own worth, sir?"