Quincy Adams Sawyer And Mason's Corner Folks Part 42

Professor Strout and Tilly did finely, and their performance gained them an encore, which they granted. One by one the couples went under the arch of extended arms, and one by one they showed their Terpsich.o.r.ean agility on the kitchen floor, over which Mandy Skinner had thoughtfully sprinkled a handful of house sand.

At last came the turn of Quincy and his little partner, whose name was unknown to him. He observed the grace with which she went through the march, and when the dance came be wished he could have stood still and watched her. Instead, he entered with his whole soul into the dance, and at its conclusion he was astonished to hear the burst of applause and cheers that fell upon his ears.

"Come along!" said his partner, and taking him by the hand she drew him back through the arch, and the dance was repeated.

Three times in succession was this done in response to enthusiastic applause, and Quincy was beginning to think that he would soon fall in his tracks. He had no idea that any such fate would befall his partner, for she seemed equal to an indefinite number of repet.i.tions.

But, as has been said before, to all good things an end must come at last, and when the old-fas.h.i.+oned Connecticut clock on the mantelpiece clanged out the midnight hour, as if by magic a hush came over the company and the jollities came to an end. Then followed a rush for capes, and coats, and jackets, and shawls, and hats. Then came good-byes and good-nights, and then the girls all kissed Huldy and her mother, wished them long life and happiness, while their escorts stood quietly by thinking of the pleasant homeward trips, and knowing in their hearts that they should treasure more the pressure of the hand or the single good-night kiss yet to come than they did the surprise party kisses that had been theirs during the evening.

Mrs. Mason and 'Zekiel had prepared Alice for her homeward trip. Quincy took occasion to seek out his partner in the reel to say good night, and as he shook hands with her he said, "Would you consider me rude if I asked your name and who taught you to dance?"

"Oh! no," she replied; "my name is Bessie Chisholm. I teach the dancing school at Eastborough Centre, and Mr. Stiles always plays for me."

"Is he going to see you home to-night?" asked Quincy.

"Oh! no," said she; "I came with my brother. Here, Sylvester," cried she, and a smart-looking, country fellow, apparently about twenty-one years of age, came towards them. "I'm ready," said Bessie to him, and then, turning to Quincy, "Mr. Sawyer, make you acquainted with my brother, Sylvester Chisholm."

"Ah, you know my name," said Quincy.

"I guess everybody in Eastborough knows who you are," retorted she with a toss of her head, as she took her brother's arm and walked away.

Hiram had brought 'round the Pettengill sleigh from the barn. 'Zekiel, Alice, Quincy, and Mandy were the last of the party to leave. Quincy took his old place beside Alice, while Mandy sat on the front seat with 'Zekiel.

It was a beautiful moonlight night and the ride home was a most enjoyable one.

"I am sorry," said Quincy to Alice, "that you could not take part in more of the games. I enjoyed them very much."

"Oh, Mrs. Mason kept me informed of your actions," said Alice with a laugh.

Halfway to Hill's grocery they pa.s.sed the Professor and Abner walking home to Mrs. Hawkins's boarding house. They called out, "Good night and pleasant dreams," and drove rapidly on. In the Square a number of the party had stopped to say good night again before taking the various roads that diverged from it, and another interchange of "Good nights"

followed.

When Strout and Abner reached the Square it was deserted. There was no light s.h.i.+ning in the boarding house. The kerosene lamps and matches were on a table in the front entry. Strout lighted his lamp and went upstairs. Strout's room was one flight up, while Abner's was up two. As they reached Strout's room he said, "Come in, Abner, and warm up. Comin'

out of that hot room into this cold air has given me a chill." He went to a closet and brought out a bottle, a small pitcher, and a couple of spoons. "Have some rum and mola.s.ses, nothin' better for a cold."

They mixed their drinks in a couple of tumblers, which Strout found in the closet. Then he took a couple of cigars from his pocket and gave one to Abner. They drank and smoked for some time in silence.

At last Abner said, "How are you satisfied with this evenin's perceedin's?"

"Wall, all things considered," said Strout, "I think it was the most successful party ever given in this 'ere town, if I did do it."

"That's so," responded Abner sententiously. "Warn't you a bit struck up when that city feller come in?"

"Not a bit," said Strout. "You know when I come back, you see it was so cussed hot, yer know I said it was the heat, but I knew they wuz there.

Mrs. Mason, told me."

"Did she?" asked Abner, with wide-opened eyes. "I thought it was one on you."

"When I went down to the road before the bugle was blown," said Strout, "Mrs. Mason told me they was there. You see, Huldy didn't suspect nothin' about the party and so she asked them over to tea. She sorter expected they would go right after tea, but they got singin' songs and tellin' stories, and Huldy saw they had come to stay."

"But," said Abner, "that city feller must have known all about it aforehand or how could he git that cake and frozen stuff down from Bosting so quick?"

"Didn't you say," said Strout, "that you seen them going over to Eastborough Centre about five o'clock?"

"Yes," replied Abner, "but how did he know when it was? Some one must have told him, I guess."

"There are times, Abner Stiles," exclaimed Strout, "when you are too almighty inquisitive."

"Wall, I only wanted to know, so I could tell the truth when folks asked me," said Abner.

"That's all right," said Strout. "Cuddent you guess who told him? 'Twas that Hiram Maxwell. I've been pumping him about the city chap, and of course, I've had to tell him somethin' for swaps. But to-morrow when I meet him I'll tell him I don't want anythin' more to do with a t.i.ttle-tattle tell-tale like him."

"What d'ye think of that pome 'bout the b.u.mblebee?" drawled Abner.

"Oh, that was a put-up job," said Strout.

"How could that be?" asked Abner, "when you took it out of your own box?"

"Well," rejoined Strout, "he'll find I'm the wustest kind of a b.u.mblebee if he stirs me up much more. When my dander's up a hornet's nest ain't a patch to me."

"I kinder fancied," continued Abner, "that the reason he had them fancy boxes sent down was because he sorter thought our pound packages would be rather ornary."

"I guess you've hit it 'bout right," remarked Strout; "them city swells would cheat their tailor so as to make a splurge and show how much money they've got. I guess he thought as how I'd never seen ice cream, but I showed him I knew all about it. I eat three sa.s.serful myself."

"I beat you on that," said Abner; "I eat a sa.s.serful of each kind."

As Abner finished speaking he emptied his gla.s.s and then reached forward for the bottle in order to replenish it. Strout's gla.s.s was also empty, and being much nearer to the bottle than Abner was, he had it in his possession before Abner could reach it. When he put it down again it was beyond his companion's reach. Abner turned some mola.s.ses into has tumbler, and then said, "Don't you think 'twas purty plucky of that city feller to come to our party to-night?"

"No, I don't," said Strout, "he jest sneaked in with 'Zeke Pettengill and his sister. He'll find out that I'm no slouch here in Eastborough.

When I marry the Deacon's daughter and git the Deacon's money, and am elected tax collector agin, and buy the grocery store, and I'm app'inted postmaster at Mason's Corner, he'll diskiver that it's harder fightin'

facts like them than it is Bob Wood's fists. I kinder reckon there won't be anybody that won't take off their hats to me, and there won't be any doubts as to who runs this 'ere town. That city feller's health will improve right off, and he'll go up to Boston a wiser man than when he come down."

"That's so," remarked Abner; and as he spoke he stood up as if to emphasize his words. Before he sat down, however, he reached across the table for the bottle, but again Strout was too quick for him.

"I was only goin' to drink yer health an' success to yer," said Abner.

"All right," said Strout, "make it half a gla.s.s and I'll jine yer."

The two men clinked their gla.s.ses, drank, and smacked their lips.

"If you don't go to bed now you won't git up till to-morrer," said the Professor.

"Yer mean ter-day," chuckled Abner, as he got up and walked 'round to the other side of the table, where he had left his lamp.

"I guess," remarked Strout, "I'll have some more fire. I ain't goin' to bed jest yet. I've got some heavy thinkin' to do."

While he was upon his knees arranging the wood, starting up the embers with the bellows, Abner reached across the table and got possession of his tumbler, from which he had fortunately removed the spoon. Grasping the bottle he filled it to the brim and tossed it down in three big swallows. As he replaced the tumbler on the table, Strout turned round.

"There was 'bout a spoonful left in the bottom of my tumbler," said Abner, apologetically. "Them that drinks last drinks best," said he, as he took up his lamp. "I guess that nightcap won't hurt me," he muttered to himself as he stumbled up the flight of stairs that led to his room.