A Spoil of Office Part 12

She looked at her husband through her gla.s.ses in a calm surprise, as he introduced Bradley, and stated he had invited him to dinner.

"Well, Mr. Brown, if you will do such things, you must expect your company to take every-day fare."

"Maybe our every-day fare, Mrs. Brown, will be Sunday fare for this young man."

They sat down at the table, which Mrs. Brown waited upon herself, rising from her place for the tea or the biscuits. She said very little thereafter, but Bradley caught the gleam of her gla.s.ses fixed upon him several times. She had a beautiful mouth, but the line of her lips seemed to indicate sadness and a determined silence.

"Mrs. Brown, I wish you'd take care of this young man for a few weeks.

He's my clerk, and I--ahem!--I--suppose he's going to milk the cow and split the kindlings for me, to pay for his board in that useful way."

She looked at him again in silence, and the line of her lips got a little straighter, as she waited for the Judge to go on.

"This young man is going to study law with me, and I hope to make a great man of him, Mrs. Brown."

"Mr. Brown, I wish you'd consult with me once in a while," she said without anger.

"Mrs. Brown, it was a case of necessity. I was on the point of giving up the milking of that cow, and my back got a crick in it every time I split the kindlings. I consider I've done you a benefit and myself a favor, Mrs. Brown."

She turned her gla.s.ses upon Bradley again, and studied him in silence.

She was a very dignified woman of fifty. Her hair was like wavy ma.s.ses of mola.s.ses candy, and her brow cold and placid. Her eyes could not be seen, but her mouth and chin were almost girlish in their beauty.

The Judge felt that he had done a hazardous thing. He took a new tone, his reminiscent tone. "Mrs. Brown, do you remember the first time you saw me? Well, I was 'pirating' through Oberlin--(chopping wood, you remember we didn't saw it in those days) and living in a cellar, just like this young man. He's been cookin' his own grub, just as I did then, because he hasn't any money to pay for board. Now I think we ought to give him a lift. Don't you think so, Mrs. Brown?"

Her mouth relaxed a little. The gla.s.ses turned upon Bradley again, and looked upon him so steadily that he was able to see her gray eyes.

"Mr. Brown is always doing things without consulting me," she explained to Bradley, "but you are welcome, sir, if our lonesome house aint worse than your cellar. Mr. Brown very seldom takes the trouble to explain what he wants to do, but I'll try to make you feel at home, sir."

They ate the rest of the meal in silence. The Judge was evidently thinking over old times, and it would be very difficult to say what his wife was thinking of. At last he rose saying:

"Now if you'll come out, I'll show you the well and the cow." As he went by his wife's chair, he stopped a moment, and said gently, "He'll do us two lonely old fossils good, Elizabeth." His hand lay on her shoulder an instant as he pa.s.sed, and when Bradley went out of the room, he saw her wiping her eyes upon her handkerchief, her gla.s.ses in her hand.

The Judge coughed a little. "We never had but one child--a boy. He was killed while out hunting"--he broke off quickly. "Now here's the meal for the cow. I give her about a panful twice a day--when I don't forget it."

Somehow, Mrs. Brown didn't seem so hard when he met her again at supper. The line of her mouth was softer. In his room he found many little touches of her motherly hand--a clean, sweet bed, and little hand-made things upon the wall, that made him think of his own mother, who had been dead since his sixteenth year. He had never had such a room as this. It appeared to him as something very fine. Its frigid atmosphere and lack of grace and charm did not appear to his eyes. It was nothing short of princely after his cellar.

His knowledge of the inner life of the common Western homes made him feel that this rigid coldness between the Judge and his wife was only their way. The touch of the Judge's hand on her shoulder meant more than a thousand worn phrases spoken every day. Under that silence and reserve there was a deep of tenderness and wistful longing which they could not utter, and dared not acknowledge, even to themselves. Their lonely house had grown intolerable, and Bradley came into it bringing youth and sunlight.

X.

A COUNTRY POLLING PLACE.

The suffering of the county papers was acute. They had supported the "inc.u.mbents" for so long, and had derived a reciprocal support so long, that they could not bring themselves to a decision. The Democratic paper, the _Call_, was too feeble to be anything distinctive at this stage of its career Chard Foster had not yet a.s.sumed control of it. It lent a half-hearted support to the Independent movement, and justified its action on the ground that it was really a Democratic movement leading toward reform, and it a.s.sumed to be the only paper advocating reform. The other paper, unequivocally Republican, supported the regular ticket with that single-heartedness of enmity, born of bribery, or that ignorance which shuts out any admission that the other side has a case.

The Oak Grove schoolhouse was the real storm-centre of the election, and there was a great crowd there all day. It was a cold, raw day. The men and boys all came in their overcoats and stood about on the leeward side of the schoolhouse--where a pale sunlight fell--and scuffled, and told stories, and bet cookies and apples on the election.

Some of the boys made up fires out in the woods near by, to which they ran whooping whenever the cold became intolerable. They crouched around the flames with a weird return of ancestral barbarism and laughed when the smoke puffed out into their faces. They made occasional forages in company with boys who lived near, after eggs, and apples, and popcorn, which they placed before the fire and ate spiced with ashes.

Hors.e.m.e.n galloped up at intervals, bringing encouraging news of other voting places. Teams clattered up filled with roughly-dressed farmers, who greeted the other voters with loud and hearty shouts. They tumbled out of the wagons, voted riotously, and then clattered back into the corn-fields to their work, with wild hurrahs for the granger ticket.

The schoolhouse itself roared with laughter and excited talk, and the big stove in the centre devoured its huge chunks of wood, making the heat oppressive near it. No presidential election had ever brought out such throngs of voters, or produced such interested discussion.

Bradley had been made clerk. His capital handwriting and knowledge of book-keeping made him a valuable man for that work. He sat behind his desk with the books before him, and impa.s.sively performed his duties, but it was his first public appointment, and he was really deeply gratified. He felt paid for all his year's hard study.

About two o'clock, when the voters were thickest at the polls, a man galloped up with an excited air, and reining in his foaming horse, yelled:

"Deering has withdrawn in favor of Russell!" The crowd swarmed out.

"What's the matter?"

"Who spoke?"

"Deering has withdrawn in favor of Russell. Cast your votes for Russell," repeated the man, and plunged off up the road.

The farmers looked at each other. "What the h.e.l.l's all this?" said Smith.

"Who was it?"

"I don't know."

"He's a liar, whoever he is," said Councill. "Where've I seen him before?"

"I know--it's Deering's hired man."

"You don't say so!" This seemed like the truth.

"I know who it is--it's Sam Harding," shouted Milton. "But that ain't Deering's horse. It's a Republican trick. Jump y'r horse there, Councill." He was carried out of himself by his excitement and anger.

The men leaped upon their horses.

"Some o' you fellers take his back trail," shouted Councill. "He'll come from Sh.e.l.l-rock and h.e.l.l's Corner."

The men saw the whole trick. This man had been sent out to the most populous of the county voting places to spread a lying report, trusting to the surprise of the announcement to carry a few indecisive votes for Russell.

Other men leaped their horses and rode off on Harding's back trail, while Councill, Milton, and old man Bacon rode away after him. Bacon growled as he rode:

"I'm agin you fellers, but by G.o.d! I b'lieve in a square game. If I kin git my paw on that houn'"--

They rode furiously in the hope of overtaking him before he reached the next polling-place. Milton was in the lead on his gray colt, a magnificent creature. He was light and a fine rider, and forged ahead of the elder men. But the "spy" was also riding a fine horse, and was riding very fast.

When they reached the next polling-place he was just pa.s.sing out of sight beyond. They dashed up, scattering the wondering crowd.

"It's a lie! It's a trick!" shouted Milton. "Deering wouldn't withdraw.

Cast every vote for Deering. It's all done to fool yeh!"

The others came thundering up. "It's a lie!" they shouted.