Ah never thinks when I feedsAh was alays a bad hand at counts. Gies it up.
Why, youre like a horse that never was rode! Try again, old man, said the farmer.
If I drags a cart, Master Gammon replied, that aint no reason why I should leap a gate.
The farmer felt that he was worsted as regarded the illustration, and with a bit of the boys fear of the pedagogue, he fought Anthony off by still pressing the arithmetical problem upon Master Gammon; until the old man, goaded to exasperation, rolled out thunderingly,
If I works fer ye, that aint no reason why I should think fer ye, which caused him to be left in peace.
Eh, Robert? the farmer transferred the question; Come! what is it?
Robert begged a minutes delay, while Anthony watched him with hawk eyes.
I tell you what it isits pounds, said Robert.
This tickled Anthony, who let him escape, crying: Capital! Pounds it is in your pocket, sir, and you hit that neatly, I will say. Let it be five. You out with your five at interest, compound interest; soon comes another five; treat it the same: in ten yearseh? and then you get into figures; you swim in figures!
I should think you did! said the farmer, winking slyly.
Anthony caught the smile, hesitated and looked shrewd, and then covered his confusion by holding his plate to Mrs. Sumfit for a help. The manifest evasion and mute declaration that dumpling said mum on that head, gave the farmer a quiet glow.
When you are ready to tell me all about my darlin, sir, Mrs. Sumfit suggested, coaxingly.
After dinner, motherafter dinner, said the farmer.
And were waitin, are we, till them dumplings is finished? she exclaimed, piteously, with a glance at Master Gammons plate.
After dinner well have a talk, mother.
Mrs. Sumfit feared from this delay that there was queer news to be told of Dahlias temper; but she longed for the narrative no whit the less, and again cast a sad eye on the leisurely proceedings of Master Gammon. The veteran was still calmly tightening. His fork was on end, with a vast mouthful impaled on the prongs. Master Gammon, a thoughtful eater, was always last at the meal, and a latent, deep-lying irritation at Mrs. Sumfit for her fidgetiness, day after day, toward the finish of the dish, added a relish to his engulfing of the monstrous morsel. He looked at her steadily, like an ox of the fields, and consumed it, and then holding his plate out, in a remorseless way, said, You make em so good, marm.
Mrs. Sumfit, fretted as she was, was not impervious to the sound sense of the remark, as well as to the compliment.
I dont want to hurry you, Mas Gammon, she said; Lord knows, I like to see you and everybody eat his full and be thankful; but, all about my Dahly waitin,I feel pricked wi a pin all over, I do; and theres my blessed in London, she answered, and we knowin nothin of her, and one close by to tell me! I never did feel what slow things dumplins was, afore now!
The kettle simmered gently on the hob. Every other knife and fork was silent; so was every tongue. Master Gammon ate and the kettle hummed. Twice Mrs. Sumfit sounded a despairing, Oh, deary me! but it was useless. No human power had ever yet driven Master Gammon to a demonstration of haste or to any acceleration of the pace he had chosen for himself. At last, she was not to be restrained from crying out, almost tearfully,
When do you think youll have done, Mas Gammon?
Thus pointedly addressed, Master Gammon laid down his knife and fork. He half raised his ponderous, curtaining eyelids, and replied,
When I feels my buttons, marm.
After which he deliberately fell to work again.
Mrs. Sumfit dropped back in her chair as from a blow.
But even dumplings, though they resist so doggedly for a space, do ultimately submit to the majestic march of Time, and move. Master Gammon cleared his plate. There stood in the dish still half a dumpling. The farmer and Rhoda, deeming that there had been a show of inhospitality, pressed him to make away with this forlorn remainder.
The vindictive old man, who was as tight as dumpling and buttons could make him, refused it in a drooping tone, and went forth, looking at none. Mrs. Sumfit turned to all parties, and begged them to say what more, to please Master Gammon, she could have done? When Anthony was ready to speak of her Dahlia, she obtruded this question in utter dolefulness. Robert was kindly asked by the farmer to take a pipe among them. Rhoda put a chair for him, but he thanked them both, and said he could not neglect some work to be done in the fields. She thought that he feared pain from hearing Dahlias name, and followed him with her eyes commiseratingly.
Does that young fellow attend to business? said Anthony.
The farmer praised Robert as a rare hand, but one affected with bees in his nightcap,who had ideas of his own about farming, and was obstinate with them; pays you due respect, buts got a notion as how his way of thinkings better n his seniors. Its the style now with all young folks. Makes a butt of old Mas Gammon; laughs at the old man. It aint respectful t age, I say. Gammon dont understand nothing about new feeds for sheep, and dam nonsense about growing such things as melons, fiddle-faddle, for em. Roberts a beginner. What he knows, I taught the young fellow. Then, my question is, wheres his ideas come from, if theyre contrary to mine? If theyre contrary to mine, theyre contrary to my teaching. Well, then, what are they worth? He cant see that. Hes a good one at workIll say so much for him.
Old Anthony gave Rhoda a pat on the shoulder.
CHAPTER III
Pipes in the middle of the days regular revelry, ejaculated Anthony, whose way of holding the curved pipe-stem displayed a mind bent on reckless enjoyment, and said as much as a label issuing from his mouth, like a figure in a comic woodcut of the old style:thats, he pursued, thats if you havent got to look up at the clock every two minutes, as if the devil was after you. But, sitting here, you know, the afternoons a long evening; nobodys your master. You can on wi your slippers, up wi your legs, talk, or go forard, counting, twicing, and three-timesing; by George! I should take to drinking beer if I had my afternoons to myself in the city, just for the sake of sitting and doing sums in a tap-room; if its a big tap-room, with pew sort o places, and dark red curtains, a fire, and a smell of sawdust; ale, and tobacco, and a boy going by outside whistling a tune of the day. Somebody comes in. Ah, theres an idle old chap, he says to himself, (meaning me), and where, I should like to ask him, d his head be if he sat there dividing two hundred and fifty thousand by forty-five and a half!
The farmer nodded encouragingly. He thought it not improbable that a short operation with these numbers would give the sum in Anthonys possession, the exact calculation of his secret hoard, and he set to work to stamp them on his brain, which rendered him absent in manner, while Mrs. Sumfit mixed liquor with hot water, and pushed at his knee, doubling in her enduring lips, and lengthening her eyes to aim a side-glance of reprehension at Anthonys wandering loquacity.
Rhoda could bear it no more.
Now let me hear of my sister, uncle, she said.
Ill tell you what, Anthony responded, she hasnt got such a pretty sort of a sweet blackbirdy voice as youve got.
The girl blushed scarlet.
Oh, she can mount them colours, too, said Anthony.
His way of speaking of Dahlia indicated that he and she had enough of one another; but of the peculiar object of his extraordinary visit not even the farmer had received a hint. Mrs. Sumfit ventured to think aloud that his grog was not stiff enough, but he took a gulp under her eyes, and smacked his lips after it in a most convincing manner.
Ah! that stuff wouldnt do for me in London, half-holiday or no half-holiday, said Anthony.
Why not? the farmer asked.
I should be speculatingdeepcouldnt hold myself in: Mexicans, Peroovians, Venzeshoolians, Spaniards, at em I should go. I see bonds in all sorts of colours, Spaniards in black and white, Peruviansorange, Mexicansred as the British army. Well, its just my whim. If I like red, I go at red. I aint a bit of reason. Whats more, I never speculate.
Why, thats safest, brother Tony, said the farmer.
And safes my gamealways was, always will be! Do you thinkAnthony sucked his grog to the sugar-dregs, till the spoon settled on his nosedo you think I should hold the position I do hold, be trusted as I am trusted? Ah! you dont know much about that. Should I have money placed in my hands, do you thinkand its thousands at a time, gold, and notes, and chequesif I was a risky chap? Im known to be thoroughly respectable. Five and forty years Ive been in Boynes Bank, and thank ye, maam, grog dont do no harm down here. And I will take another glass. When the heart of a man!but Im no singer.
Mrs. Sumfit simpered, Hem; its the heart of a woman, too: and she have one, and its dying to hear of her darlin blessed in town, and of who cuts her hair, and where she gets her gownds, and whose pills
The farmer interrupted her irritably.
Divide a couple o hundred thousand and more by forty-five and a half, he said. Do wait, mother; all in good time. Forty-five and a-half, brother Tony; that was your sumah!you mentioned it some time backhalf of what? Is that half a fraction, as they call it? I havent forgot fractions, and logareems, and practice, and so on to algebrae, where it always seems to me to blow hard, for, whizz goes my head in a jiffy, as soon as Ive mounted the ladder to look into that country. How bout that forty-five and a half, brother Tony, if you dont mind condescending to explain?
Forty-five and a half? muttered Anthony, mystified.
Oh, never mind, you know, if you dont like to say, brother Tony. The farmer touched him up with his pipe-stem.
Five and a half, Anthony speculated. Thats a fraction you got hold of, brother William John,I remember the parson calling out those names at your wedding: I, William John, take thee, Susan; yes, thats a fraction, but whats the good of it?
What I mean is, it aint forty-five and half of forty-five. Half of one, eh? Thats identical with a fraction. Onea strokeand two under it.
Youve got it correct, Anthony assented.
How many thousand divide it by?
Divide what by, brother William John? Im beat.
Ah! out comes the keys: lockup everything; its time! the farmer laughed, rather proud of his brother-in-laws perfect wakefulness after two stiff tumblers. He saw that Anthony was determined with all due friendly feeling to let no one know the sum in his possession.
If its four oclock, it is time to lock up, said Anthony, and bang to go the doors, and theres the money for thieves to dream ofthey cant get a-nigh it, let them dream as they like. Whats the hour, maam?
Not three, it aint, returned Mrs. Sumfit; and do be good creatures, and begin about my Dahly, and where she got that Bumptious gownd, and the bonnet with blue flowers lyin by on the table: now, do!
Rhoda coughed.
And she wears lavender gloves like a lady, Mrs. Sumfit was continuing.
Rhoda stamped on her foot.
Oh! cruel! the comfortable old woman snapped in pain, as she applied her hand to the inconsolable fat foot, and nursed it. Whats roused ye, you tiger girl? I shant be able to get about, I shant, and then whos to cook for ye all? For youre as ignorant as a raw kitchen wench, and knows nothing.
Come, Dody, youre careless, the farmer spoke chidingly through Mrs. Sumfits lamentations.
She stops uncle Anthony when hes just ready, father, said Rhoda.
Do you want to know? Anthony set his small eyes on her: do you want to know, my dear? He paused, fingering his glass, and went on: I, Susan, take thee, William John, and youve come of it. Says I to myself, when I hung sheepish by your mother and by your father, my dear, says I to myself, I aint a marrying man: and if these two, says I, if any progeny comes to emto bless them, some peopled say, but I know what life is, and what young ones areifwhere was I? Liquor makes you talk, brother William John, but wheres your ideas? Gone, like hard cash! What I meant was, I felt I might some day come forard and help the issue of your wifes weddin, and wasnt such a shady object among you, after all. My pipes out.
Rhoda stood up, and filled the pipe, and lit it in silence. She divined that the old man must be allowed to run on in his own way, and for a long time he rambled, gave a picture of the wedding, and of a robbery of Boynes Bank: the firm of Boyne, Burt, Hamble, and Company. At last, he touched on Dahlia.
What she wants, I cant make out, he said; and what that good lady there, or somebody, made mention ofhow she manages to dress as she do! I can understand a little goin a great way, if youre clever in any way; but Im at my teaAnthony laid his hand out as to exhibit a picture. I aint a complaining man, and be young, if you can, I say, and walk about and look at shops; but, Im at my tea: I come home rather tired theres the tea-things, sure enough, and teas made, and, maybe, theres a shrimp or two; she attends to your creature comforts. When everythings locked up and tight and right, Im gay, and ask for a bit of society: well, Im at my tea: I hear her foot thumping up and down her bed-room overhead: I know the meaning of that: Id rather hear nothing: down she runs: Im at my tea, and in she bursts.Here followed a dramatic account of Dahlias manner of provocation, which was closed by the extinction of his pipe.
The farmer, while his mind still hung about thousands of pounds and a certain incomprehensible division of them to produce a distinct intelligible total, and set before him the sum of Anthonys riches, could see that his elder daughter was behaving flightily and neglecting the true interests of the family, and he was chagrined. But Anthony, before he entered the house, had assured him that Dahlia was well, and that nothing was wrong with her. So he looked at Mrs. Sumfit, who now took upon herself to plead for Dahlia: a young thing, and such a handsome creature! and we were all young some time or other; and would heaven have mercy on us, if we were hard upon the young, do you think? The motto of a truly religious man said, try em again. And, maybe, people had been a little hard upon Dahlia, and the girl was apt to take offence. In conclusion, she appealed to Rhoda to speak up for her sister. Rhoda sat in quiet reserve.
She was sure her sister must be justified in all she did but the picture of the old man coming from his work every night to take his tea quite alone made her sad. She found herself unable to speak, and as she did not, Mrs. Sumfit had an acute twinge from her recently trodden foot, and called her some bitter names; which was not an unusual case, for the kind old woman could be querulous, and belonged to the list of those whose hearts are as scales, so that they love not one person devotedly without a corresponding spirit of opposition to another. Rhoda merely smiled.