"Hossy," said Calvin as he drove out of the yard, "what do you think of that young woman?" (Mary Sands was nearer forty than thirty, but she will be young at seventy.) The brown horse shook his head slightly as Calvin flicked the whip past his ear. "Well, there you're mistaken!" said Calvin. "There's where you show your ignorance, hossy. I tell you that young woman is A 1 and clipper built if ever I see such. Yes, sir! ship-shape and Bristol fashion, live-oak frame, and copper fastenin's, is what I call Miss Hands, and a singular name she's got. Most prob'ly she'll be changin' it to Sill one of these days, and one of them two lobsters will be a darned He checked the brown horse. A small boy was standing on a gate-post and shouting vigorously. "What say, sonny?" said Calvin. "Be you the candy man?" cried the child. "That's what! be you the candy boy? lozenges, tutti-frutti and pepsin chewin' gum, chocolate creams, stick candy—what'll you have, young feller?" "I want a stick of checkerberry!" said the boy. "So do I!" cried a little girl in a pink gingham frock, who had run out from the house and climbed on the other gate-post. She was a pretty curly little creature, and the boy was an engaging compound of flaxen hair, freckles and snub nose. Calvin regarded them benevolently, and pulled out a drawer under the seat of the wagon. "Here you are!" he said, taking out a glass jar full of enchanting red and white sticks. "Best checkerberry in the State of Maine; cent apiece!" and he held out two sticks. The children's eyes grew big and tragic. "We ain't got any money!" said the boy, sadly. "Not any money!" echoed the little girl. "Then what in time did you ask for it for?" asked Calvin rather irritably. "I didn't!" said the boy. "I just said I wanted it." Calvin looked from him to the girl, and then at the candy, helplessly. "Well, look here!" he said. "Say! where do hossy and me come in? We've got to get our livin', you see." "Could you get much living out of two sticks?" asked the little girl. Calvin looked again at the round wistful eyes. "This ain't no kind of way to do business!" he remonstrated. "You've got to airn it some way, you know. Tell you what! Let me see which can holler loudest, and I'll give you a stick apiece." The babes closed their eyes, threw back their heads, and bellowed to the skies. "That's first rate!" said Calvin. "Good lung power there, young uns! go it again!" The children roared like infant bulls of Bashan. At this moment the door of the house flew open and a woman appeared wild-eyed. "What's the matter?" she cried. "Susy, be you hurt? Eben, has something bit you?" "Don't you be scairt, Marm!" said Calvin affably. "They was just showin' off their lung power, and they've got a first rate article of it." The woman's eyes flashed, and she hurried toward the gate. "You come along and be spanked!" she cried to the children; "scarin' me into palpitations, and your Aunt Mandy layin' in a blue ager! And as for you," she addressed Calvin directly, "the best thing you can do is to get out of this the quickest you know how. When I want peddlers round here I'll let you know." The children were hurried into the house, shrieking now in good earnest, but clutching their candy sticks. Calvin gazed after them ruefully. "Well, hossy, that didn't seem to work real good, did it?" he said. "Fact is, we ain't got the hang of this business, no way, shape or manner. Try to please the kids and you get 'em a spankin' instead. Well, they got their candy anyway. 'Pears as if their Ma needed somethin', howsomever." He sat pondering with his eyes fixed anxiously on the house; finally he rummaged Calvin bent toward her confidentially, his face full of serious anxiety. "Say, lady!" he said gravely; "I'd like to make you a present of these cardamom seeds. They do say they're the best thing goin' for the temper; kind o' counter-irritant, y' know; bite the tongue, and—" The door banged in his face. He smiled placidly, and returning to his wagon clambered in again and chirruped cheerily to the brown horse. "Gitty up, hossy!" he said. "I feel a sight better now. Gitty up!" They jogged on for some time, Calvin mostly silent, though now and then he broke out into song. "Now Renzo was a sailor; Rounding a curve in the road, he saw a man walking in the same direction in which he was going; a young man, slight and wiry, walking with quick, jerky strides. Calvin observed him. "That young feller's in a hurry, hossy," he said. "See him? he's takin' longer steps than what his legs are, and that's agin' natur'. What say about givin' him a lift, hey?" The brown horse, his ear being flicked, shook his head decidedly. "Sho!" said Calvin, "you don't mean that, hossy. Your bark—well, not exactly bark—is worse than your—not precisely bite, but The man stopped with a start, and turned a pale face on Calvin. He had red hair, and his blue eyes burned angrily. "Yes!" he said. Calvin stopped, and he jumped quickly into the wagon. Calvin looked at him expectantly a moment; then "Much obliged!" he said. "Real accommodatin' of you!" The young man colored like a girl. "I beg your pardon!" he said. "I'm forgetting my manners and everything else, I guess. Much obliged to you for takin' me up. I'm in a terrible hurry!" he added, looking doubtfully at the brown horse, who was jogging peacefully along. "Four legs is better than two!" said Calvin. "Gitty up, hossy! He makes better "How far you goin'?" asked the man. "Oh, down along a piece!" said Calvin. "Where be you?" "I'm going to Tinkham," said the red-haired man with angry emphasis; "to Lawyer Filcher. If there was any lawyer nearer I'd go to him." "I want to know!" said Calvin sociably. "Insurance?" "No!" the man broke out. "I'm goin' to get a bill!" Now in our part of the country a "bill" means a bill of divorce. Calvin shook his head with sympathetic interest. "Sho!" he said. "A young feller like you? now ain't that a pity?" "I can't stand it any longer!" the lad cried, and his hands worked with passion. "Nor yet I won't, I tell you. No man "Well!" said Calvin. "Ain't that a pity now? If it's so, it's so, and mebbe a bill is the best thing. Awful homely, is she?" The lad turned upon him, and his blue eyes flashed. "Homely?" he said roughly. "What you talkin' about? she was Katie Hazard." "Nice name!" said Calvin. "Come from these parts?" "I guess you don't!" retorted the lad, "or you wouldn't have to be told. She was called the prettiest girl in the county when I married her, and she hasn't got over it yet." "You don't say!" said Calvin placidly. "Well, good looks is pleasant, I always maintain; I'd full rather have a woman good-lookin' if other things is 'cordin' to. "She's the best cook in the State!" said the young man doggedly. "I'd back her riz bread or doughnuts or pies against any woman's from Portland to 'Roostick." "Quite a ways," said Calvin. "S'pose likely she's slack, hey? house cluttered up? calicker wrapper and shoes down at the heel? that kind?" The blue eyes flared at him. "I don't want none o' this kind o' talk!" he said sharply. "Slack! I'd sooner eat off Katie's kitchen floor than any other woman's parlor table that ever I see. You find me a speck o' dust or a spot o' dirt round our house and I'll find you a blue hen." "I see!" said Calvin. "Another fellow, is there?" "No!" shouted the young man, and he turned savagely on Calvin. "I'd like to know why you're sayin' this kind of thing, "Well!" said Calvin comfortably. "I've been wonderin' ever since you got in whether you was an ill-used man or a darned fool, and now I've found out. Why, you loony, if you've got a wife like all that, why in Tunkett are you goin' to get a bill?" His voice rang out like a ship's trumpet. The lad shrunk down in his seat, and his face grew dogged and set. "We was mismated, I tell you!" he said. "She's got a temper!" "Well, how about you?" asked Calvin. "You ain't got that red hair for nothin', son." "I know! I have one too," the lad admitted; "and each one stirs the other up and makes it worse. It's no use, I tell you! We get jawin' and the house won't hold us both, so I'm going to clear out." "Sho!" said Calvin. They were silent for a few moments, the young husband brooding over his wrongs, Calvin meditating. At last he said slowly, "Young feller, I ain't no lawyer, nor yet wishful to be; but I expect I can cure your case." "What do you mean?" asked the lad. "I expect I can cure your case," Calvin repeated deliberately, "for less money by a good sight, and more agreeable all round. Lemme see! two and two is four, and seven times four is twenty-eight, and two more—yes, sir! I'll undertake to cure your case for thirty cents, and do it handsome." He opened a drawer, and after a careful inspection took out two small objects which he held up. "See them?" he said. "This is your article. All Day Suckers, they're called, and well named. The candy fills the mouth and yet don't crowd it any; the stick is to hold on by, and take it out when necessary. Pure sugar, no glucose in it; A sharp rattle was heard. Both men turned round, and saw a light wagon whirling toward them. The horse was galloping; the driver, a young woman in a cloud of red gold hair, was urging him on with whip and voice. "Well!" said Calvin Parks. "Great hemlock!" cried the young man. "Katie, stop!" He leaped out over the wheel, and set off running toward the advancing "Joe!" she cried. "Oh, Joe! come back! I—I'm sorry I bit you!" She jumped out—over the wheel too—and the two red heads flamed together. Calvin gazed for a moment, then turned round with a smile. "I guess they won't need them suckers after all!" he said. "Gitty up, hossy!" |