THE QUERY. RUTH’S DOG DOMBEY BRINGS HER A NOTE.

The first day of May Mr. Schwarmer came and brought a carload of workmen. There had been a very large number from the beginning. The Library building was completed and the building on the hill had been going on very rapidly, particularly through the months of March and April, but the pace was nothing to what it was after Mr. Schwarmer’s advent. The large lot on which the main building stood was enclosed by a high wall with gates, elevated seats and awning posts. The building itself was decorated, winged, painted, balconied and improved in wonderful ways. Band stands and observation towers arose as if by magic.

Mr. Schwarmer was a man who liked to rush things, and he was here and there and everywhere, pushing the work. When questioned as to its uses he laughed and said:“That is a query even to myself. Come to think of it, I guess I’ll name it ‘The Query.’ It would be a good name for it and might be spelled with one e or two. A very good one truly. A capital one, since its gates are to be open to all the queer and popular things—that is the most popular, amusing, instructive and queer; and as there is always a question as to which is the most truly popular et cetera. The people of Killsbury and the county can hold their fairs here if they wish, and bring their showiest bed quilts and biggest pumpkins or things of that kind, most assuredly they can.”

A week after Mr. Schwarmer’s arrival Mrs. Schwarmer and Adelaide came, bringing with them the Librarian and the books. The work of putting the Library in order was to be rushed also, for it was to be formally opened and handed over to the town on the Fourth of July, with appropriate ceremonies.

On the day of their arrival Dombey did not make his appearance at dinner—a function which he was in the habit of observing as punctually as the other members of the family.

“Where in the world is Dombey!” exclaimed Ruth. “You don’t suppose he has gone to the train to meet Adelaide Schwarmer again? Mrs. Langley told me she was expected today.”

“Very likely,” laughed Ralph. “Dogs get habits as well as the rest of us. See, there he comes, running like Jehu! He hasn’t captured her this time; but he acts as though chain lightning had struck him. Something is up you may be sure.”

And so there was. Dombey came rushing up to Ruth with a note tied to his collar. It was from Adelaide Schwarmer, inviting her to meet them at the Library the next morning. They (she and her mother) wanted to consult her about some of the arrangements. “Father,” she said, “was very busy and had given it all into their hands to manage.”

“It’s well he has,” said Ralph angrily. “You wouldn’t have my consent to go, if he were going to be there.”

“Oh I don’t think he is really a bad man, Ralph. Only blind with regard to the characters of those about him, just as he is custom-blind in regard to other things. Anyway I forgive him for his daughter’s sake.”

“Better wait until you see what performances he introduces on Schwarmer Hill.”

“As long as Miss Schwarmer is there I feel as though the Hill has a guardian angel—or a recording angel at least, Ralph.”

“Be careful though. Don’t let them harness you into doing any hard work at the library. You know rich women are apt to do that sort of thing and you have to be extra careful of your health just now. Your mother would never forgive me if I should let you overdo while she is away.”“Don’t be foolish, Ralph. You know how it has always been with papa and mamma. They were over-solicitous. I was never so strong and healthy in my life as I am now. I feel as though I could work, and should be glad to in such a cause. Only think of it! The gift of books and books and books and books instead of firecrackers and cartridges and toy pistols! An invitation to come and help arrange them instead of an order to pack up and leave the country to get rid of the horrible Fourth! Then the exercises in the Library instead of the carnival of death and destruction. Can you realize it, Ralph? Do you really take it all in?”

She seized hold of his arms and gave him a vigorous shaking up.

“You see Dombey got here first; but how well you are looking,” exclaimed Adelaide, when Ruth entered the library. “How plump and fair you have grown since I was here! Let me kiss you.”

A pink glow came to Ruth’s cheek which made her pretty face look still prettier, and had its effect on Adelaide also. She added shyly: “Are you tired? Did you walk? I ought to have come for you in my phaeton.”

“My husband brought me,” replied Ruth, recovering herself in time to meet the formal salutation and the cold discriminating glance of Mrs. Schwarmer, with wifely dignity.

“I trust your father and mother are usually well. Perhaps I ought to have sent for them to assist me in this matter; but Adelaide told me you were very enthusiastic about the library and knew everything about books. There’s an alcove set aside for the very, very choice ones—books that no one should be allowed to handle, who is ignorant of their value, so the Librarian says; but he has so much to do, we are going to help him all we can.”

“Papa and mamma are in Chicago with an uncle who is very ill—not expected to live day after day.”

“How sad,” said Mrs. Schwarmer, in the even tone which made it difficult to tell whether she meant the uncle’s sickness or the father’s and mother’s absence from home. “Mr. Bombs is in Chicago, too. He went there to meet Mr. Pang, the celebrated Pyrotechnic King. Chicago is to celebrate its centennial before long, and Mr. Pang is to do wonders there. A fac simile of old Fort Dearborn will be built on purpose for him to burn down, and he will give a realistic representation of the “Great Chicago Fire” by covering the roofs of all the highest and largest buildings in the city with Roman lights, which are to be lighted all at once and burn for hours and hours, and make it appear as though the city were really being burned up again. No doubt it will be splendid. Did Mr. Bombs say anything about it in the letter you got this morning, Adelaide? I was too busy to read it.”“He didn’t say he’d seen Pang himself, but the Pang Co. are making great preparations for the burning,” said Adelaide, “and I think it’s horrid. It’s bad enough to have a city half burned up by accident; but to pay thousands of dollars to have it burned up in play is silly and sinful and I’m going to tell Bombs so when he comes back.”

“Hush, Adelaide,” said Mrs. Schwarmer, authoritatively. “You are too young to express such strong opinions.”

“My poor uncle lost his all in that terrible fire, his wife and children even. It broke him down utterly. He has never seen a well day since,” said Ruth. “To him even the shadow of such an experience would be dreadful.”

“Indeed! what a pity!” said Mrs. Schwarmer in the same even tone that left one in doubt as to where her pity came in, as she went into an adjoining room to have another consultation with the Librarian, after which she rustled out to her carriage and drove swiftly away.

“I am going to take you home in my phaeton when you are ready to go,” said Adelaide; “but you must see the rare books first.”

“Certainly,” replied Ruth, “and I would like to do something to help you, and perhaps I can.”

“It would help me to have you here, to see you and talk with you,” replied Adelaide; “but you must not climb or reach or handle the heavy books. It isn’t necessary. I can climb like a cat, and I know some nice boys who would handle them as carefully as you or I or mamma. It’s all moonshine, what the Librarian says about them. They will have to be handled by anybody who chooses, if they are going to be of any use to the town.”

“Ralph would be delighted to help—help climb,” laughed Ruth, “I know he would. Then how about the catalogues? I can write fairly well—so my husband says?”

“Oh I’m so glad, Mrs. Ruth. Pardon, let me call you Ruth. It’s such a pretty name. I write a horrid hand. Besides, I want your company. Mamma is going to be awfully busy up to the house, and Mr. Bombs is coming back in a few days. May I drive around for you every morning at ten o’clock?”

“Yes indeed you may,” replied Ruth. “I shall be delighted to come and be with you and help you and talk with you, I’m sure I shall. We think alike about so many things—about monstrous celebrations and dangerous fireworks and the burning up of money, when so much is needed to make the poor comfortable, and improve the world. As though there were not sad accidents enough in the world without going to work and making accidents. Only think of the poor people of Martinique! Only just recovered from the catastrophe of Mont Pelee when a hurricane comes and sweeps away their homes again! I wonder the horrible Fire-kings don’t go over there and try to amuse the people with a Mont Pelee eruption! This making sport out of such terrible happenings seems to be the rage just now.”

“King Pang has invented a Mont Pelee firecracker,” said Adelaide; “and a huge noise-maker it is—fifteen feet long and explodes fifty times! Do you know we visited him when we were in London and I didn’t like him at all, though he is awful rich and entertained us splendidly. He invents fiery shows and goes all over the world to pile up money out of them, although he is worth millions already.”

“Please tell me about him,” exclaimed Ruth eagerly. “I wonder if he is the one that I heard so much boasting about in Canada. The one that wooled the Americans into buying their ‘Independence Day annihilators’ of him they said. Those horrible cannon crackers, and things of that sort which kill and maim so many every year—dangerous things that never ought to be manufactured or sold in any country under the heavens. He seems like an arch-fiend to me.”

“He is as proud as Lucifer anyway,” replied Adelaide. “The whole family are as proud as they can be. They have a coat of arms and everything as magnificent as the royal family.”

“A Coat of Arms! What has he done to deserve a Coat of Arms?” asked Ruth.

“O! horrible things!—or his grandfathers have. One of them invented a war explosive for the British navy and another gave them a lot of powder to carry on the awful Crimean war! The Government made a Knight of him to pay him for his powder; and they are dreadfully proud of it. They’ve got it all written down on their Coat,” laughed Adelaide.

“They had better write down the number of human beings their fiendish inventions and gifts have killed,” said Ruth indignantly.

“O how glad I am to hear you say that. I told Mr. Bombs so in those very words,” exclaimed Adelaide with her eyes brim full of honest glow. “And mamma said I was too young to have an opinion about such matters,” she added in a grieved tone.

“I am only nineteen,” remarked Ruth, “but I have had an experience, and that amounts to more than years, sometimes.”

“Do you know Mr. Bombs is only twenty-one. It seems so strange that he should take it into his head to be a Pyrotechnist. But his mother died when he was young and I suspect his father was too busy making his millions to think about his training. He told me once that his nurse used to take him to the beach every evening almost, to see the fireworks. So you see he had them burned into him almost.”

“Probably the nurse had a fondness for that sort of barbarism,” replied Ruth. “O how wrong it is for parents to be so careless of their children! To trust them as they do, to the ignorant, the foolish and the wicked—they know not whom—often to anybody who is willing to wear a nurse’s cap and apron.”

“I’m sure that’s the way it was with Mr. Bombs. His head is full of fireworks. He went over to London on purpose to see King Pang and get hold of the secrets of the trade; but I think he found him rather foxy,” laughed Adelaide.

“Of course,” said Ruth. “The English Pyro-king does not relish having a rival in the American market.”