Harriet Beecher Stowe : Three Novels (250 page)

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Page 1388
XLII.
Spring Vacation at Oldtown
It was the spring vacation, and Harry and I were coming again to Oldtown; and ten miles back, where we changed horses, we had left the crawling old Boston stage and took a foot-path through a patch of land known as the Spring Pasture. Our road lay pleasantly along the brown, sparkling river, which was now just waked up, after its winter nap, as fussy and busy and chattering as a housekeeper that has overslept herself. There were downy catkins on the willows, and the water-maples were throwing out their crimson tassels. The sweet-flag was just showing its green blades above the water, and here and there, in nooks, there were yellow cowslips reflecting their bright gold faces in the dark water.
Harry and I had walked this way that we might search under the banks and among the dried leaves for the white waxen buds and flowers of the trailing arbutus. We were down on our knees, scraping the leaves away, when a well-known voice came from behind the bushes.
"Wal, lordy massy, boys! Here ye be! Why, I ben up to Siah's tahvern, an' looked inter the stage, an' did n't see yer. I jest thought I'd like to come an' kind o' meet yer. Lordy massy, they's all a lookin' out for yer 't all the winders; 'n' Aunt Lois, she 's ben bilin' up no end o' doughnuts, an' tearin' round 'nough to drive the house out o' the winders, to git everything ready for ye. Why, it beats the Prodigal Son all holler, the way they 're killin' the fatted calves for yer; an' everybody in Oldtown 's a wantin' to see Sir Harry."
"O nonsense, Sam!" said Harry, coloring. "Hush about that! We don't have titles over here in America."
"Lordy massy, that 's just what I wus a tellin' on 'em up to store. It 's a pity, ses I, this yere happened arter peace was signed, 'cause we might ha' had a real live Sir Harry around among us. An' I think Lady Lothrop, she kind o' thinks so too."

 

Page 1389
"O nonsense!" said Harry. "Sam, are the folks all well?"
"O lordy massy, yes! Chirk and chipper as can be. An' there 's Tiny, they say she 's a goin' to be an heiress nowadays, an' there 's no end of her beaux. There 's Ellery Devenport ben down here these two weeks, a puttin' up at the tahvern, with a landau an' a span o' crack horses, a takin' on her out to ride every day, and Miss Mehitable, she 's so sot up, she 's really got a bran-new bonnet, an' left off that 'ere old un o' hern that she 's had trimmed over spring an' fall goin' on these 'ere ten years. I thought that 'ere bonnet 's going to last out my time, but I see it hain't. An' she 's got a new Injy shawl, that Mr. Devenport gin her. Yeh see, he understan's courtin', all round."
This intelligence, of course, was not the most agreeable to me. I hope, my good friends, that you have never known one of those quiet hours of life, when, while you are sitting talking and smiling, and to all appearance quite unmoved, you hear a remark or learn a fact that seems to operate on you as if somebody had quietly turned a faucet that was letting out you very life. Down, down, down, everything seems sinking, the strength passing away from you as the blood passes when an artery is cut. It was with somewhat this sensation that I listened to Sam's chatter, while I still mechanically poked away the leaves and drew out the long waxy garlands that I had been gathering for
her!
Sam seated himself on the bank, and, drawing his knees up to his chin and clasping his hands upon them, began moralizing in his usual strain.
"Lordy massy, lordy massy, what a changin' world this 'ere is! It 's jest see-saw, teeter-tawter, up an' down. To-day it 's I 'm up an' you 're down, an' to-morrow it 's you 're up and I 'm down! An' then, by an' by, death comes an' takes us all. I 've ben kind o' dwellin' on some varses to-day,
'Death, like a devourin' deluge,
Sweeps all away.
The young, the old, the middle-aged,
To him become a prey.'
That 'ere is what Betty Poganut repeated to me the night

 

Page 1390
we sot up by Statiry's corpse. Yeh 'member Statiry Poganut? Well, she 's dead at last. Yeh see, we all gits called in our turn. We hain't here no continuin' city."
"But, Sam," said I, "how does business get along? Have n't you anything to do but tramp the pastures and moralize?"
"Wal," said Sam, "I've hed some pretty consid'able spells of blacksmithin' lately. There's Mr. Devenport, he 's sech a pleasant-spoken man, he told me he brought his team all the way up from Bostin a purpose so that I might 'tend to their huffs. I've ben a shoein' on 'em fresh all round, an' the off horse, he 'd kind o' got a crack in his huff, an' I 've been a doctorin' on 't; an' Mr. Devenport, he said he had n't found nobody that knew how to doctor a horse's huffs ekal to me. Very pleasant-spoken man Mr. Devenport is; he 's got a good word for everybody. They say there ain't no end to his fortin, an' he goes a flingin' on 't round, right an' left, like a prince. Why, when I 'd done shoein' his horses, he jest put his hand inter his pocket an' handed me out ten dollars! ripped it out, he did, jest as easy as water runs! But there was Tiny a standin' by; I think she kind o' sot him on. O lordy massy, it 's plain to be seen that
she
rules him. It 's all cap in hand to her, an' 'What you will, madam,' an' 'Will ye have the end o' the rainbow, or a slice out o' the moon, or what is it?' It 's all ekal to him, so as Miss Tiny wants it. Lordy massy," he said, lowering his voice confidentially to Harry, "course these 'ere things is all temporal, an' our hearts ought n't to be too much sot on 'em; still he 's got about the most amazin' fortin there is round Bostin. Why, if you b'lieve me, 'tween you an' me, it 's him as owns the Dench Place, where you and Tiny put up when you wus children! Don't ye 'member when I found ye? Ye little guessed whose house ye wus a puttin' up at then; did yer? Lordy massy, lordy massy, who 'd ha' thought it? The wonderful ways of Providence! 'He setteth the poor on high, an' letteth the runagates continoo in scarceness.' Wal, wal, it 's a kind o' instructive world."
"Do you suppose," said Harry to me, in a low voice, "that this creature knows anything of what he is saying?"
"I'm afraid he does," said I. "Sam seems to have but one talent, and that is picking up news; and generally his guesses turn out to be about true."

 

Page 1391
"Sam," said I, by way of getting him to talk of something else, rather than on what I dreaded to hear, "you have n't said a word about Hepsy and the children. How are they all?"
"Wal, the young uns hes all got the whoopin' cough," said Sam, "an' I'm e'en a'most beat out with 'em. For fust it 's one barks, an' then another, an' then all together. An' then Hepsy, she gets riled, an' she scolds; an', take it all together, a feller's head gits kind o' turned. When ye hes a lot o' young uns, there's allus suthin' a goin' on among 'em; ef 't ain't whoopin' cough, it 's measles; an' ef 't ain't measles, it 's chicken-pox, or else it's mumps, or scarlet-fever, or suthin'. They 's all got to be gone through, fust an' last. It 's enough to wean a body from this world. Lordy massy, yest'day arternoon I see yer Aunt Keziah an' yer Aunt Keziah an' yer Aunt Lois out a cuttin' cowslip greens t' other side o' th' river, an' the sun it shone so bright, an' the turtles an' frogs they kind o' peeped so pleasant, an' yer aunts they sot on the bank so kind o' easy an' free, an' I stood there a lookin' on 'em, an' I could n't help a thinkin', 'Lordy massy, I wish t' I wus an old maid.' Folks 'scapes a great deal that don't hev no young uns a hangin' onter 'em."
"Well, Sam," said Harry, "is n't there any news stirring round in the neighborhood?"
"S'pose ye hain't heerd about the great church-quarrel over to Needmore?" he said.
"Quarrel? Why, no," said Harry. "What is it about?"
"Wal, ye see, there 's a kind o' quarrel ris 'tween Parson Perry and Deacon Bangs. I can't jest git the right on 't, but it 's got the hull town afire. I b'lieve it cum up in a kind o' dispute how to spell Saviour. The Deacon he 's on the school-committee, an' Parson Perry he 's on 't; an' the Deacon he spells it
iour,
an' Parson Perry he spells it
ior,
an' they would n't neither on 'em give up. Wal, ye know Deacon Bangs,I
s'pose
he 's a Christian,but, lordy massy, he 's one o' yer dreadful ugly kind o' Christians, that, when they gits their backs up, will do worse things than sinners will. I reelly think they kind o' take advantage o' their position, an' think, es they 're goin' to be saved by grace, grace shell hev enough on 't. Now, to my mind, ef either on 'em wus to give way, the Deacon oughter give up to the Parson; but the Dea-

 

Page 1392
con he don't think so. Between you and me," said Sam, "it 's my opinion that ef Ma'am Perry hed n't died jest when she did, this 'ere thing would never ha' growed to where 't is. But ye see Ma'am Perry she died, an' that left Parson Perry a widower, an' folks did talk about him an' Mahaley Bangs, an' fact was, 'long about last spring, Deacon Bangs an' Mis' Bangs an' Mahaley wus jest as thick with the Parson as they could be. Why, Granny Watkins told me about their havin' on him to tea two an' three times a week, an' Mahaley 'd make two kinds o' cake, an' they 'd have preserved watermelon rinds an' peaches an' cranberry saace, an' then 't was all sugar an' all sweet, an' the Deacon he talked 'bout raisin' Parson Perry's salary. Wal, then, ye see, Parson Perry he went over to Oldtown an' married Jerushy Peabody. Now, Jerushy's a nice, pious gal, an' it 's a free country, an' parsons hes a right to suit 'emselves as well 's other men. But Jake Marshall, he ses to me, when he heerd o' that, ses he, 'They 'll be findin fault with Parson Perry's doctrines now afore two months is up; ye see if they don't.' Wal, sure enuff, this 'ere quarrel 'bout spellin' Saviour come on fust, an' Deacon Bangs he fit the Parson like a bulldog. An' next town-meetin' day he told Parson Perry right out before everybody thet he was wuss then 'n Armenian,thet he was a rank Pelagian; 'n' he said there was folks thet hed taken notes o' his sermons for two years back, 'n' they could show thet he hed n't preached the real doctrine of total depravity, nor 'riginal sin, an' thet he 'd got the plan o' salvation out o' j'int intirely; he was all kind o' flattin' out onter morality. An' Parson Perry he sed he 'd preached jest 's he allers hed. 'Tween you 'n' me, we know he
must
ha' done that, 'cause these 'ere ministers thet hev to go preachin' round 'n' round like a hoss in a cider-mill,wal,
course
they
must
preach the same sermons over. I s'pose they kind o' trim 'em up with new collars 'n' wris'bands. But we used to say thet Parson Lothrop hed a bar'l o' sermons, 'n' when he got through the year he turned his bar'l t'other side up, and begun at t'other end. Lordy massy, who 's to know it, when half on em 's asleep? And I guess the preachin 's full as good as the pay anyhow! Wal, the upshot on 't all is, they got a gret counsel there, an' they 're a tryin' Mr. Perry for heresy an' what not. Wal, I don't b'lieve there 's a yaller dog

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