Aladdin & Co.: A Romance of Yankee Magic
"Well, it's all right," he continued, "and about these houses. Why, we'd
have to build them, even if we preferred to live in tents. Put the cost
in the advertising account of Lynhurst Park Addition, if it worries you.
Let me ask you, now, as a reasonable man, how can we expect the rest of
the world to come out here and spring themselves for humble dwellings
with stationary washtubs, conservatories, and _porte cocheres_, if we
ourselves haven't any more confidence in the deal than to put up Jim
Crow wickiups costing not more than ten or fifteen thousand dollars
apiece? That addition has got to be the Nob Hill of Lattimore. Nothing
in the 'poor but honest' line will do for Lynhurst; and we've got to set
the pace. When you see my modest bachelor quarters going up, you'll
cease to think of yours in the light of an extravagance. By next fall
you'll be infested with money, anyhow, and that house will be the least
of your troubles."
Alice and I made up our minds that Jim was right, and went on with our
plans on a scale which sometimes brought back the Aladdin idea to my
mind, accustomed as I was to rural simplicity. But Alice,
notwithstanding that she was the daughter of a country physician of not
very lucrative practice, rose to the occasion, and spent money with a
spontaneous largeness of execution which revealed a genius hitherto
unsuspected by either of us. Jim was thoroughly delighted with it.
"The Republic," he argued, "cannot be in any real danger when the modest
middle classes produce characters of such strength in meeting great
emergencies!"
Jim was at his best this summer. He revelled in the work of filling the
morning paper with scare-heads detailing our operations. He enjoyed
being It, he said. Cornish, after the first few days, during which, in
spite of inside information as to his history, I felt that he would make
good the predictions of the _Herald_, ceased to be, in my mind, anything
more than I was--a trusted aide of Jim, the general. Both men went
rather frequently out to the Trescott farm--Jim with the bluff freedom
of a brother, Cornish with his rather ceremonious deference. I
distrusted the dark Sir John where women were concerned, noting how they
seemed charmed by him; but I could not see that he had made any headway
in regaining Josie's regard, though I had a lurking feeling that he
meant to do so. I saw at times in his eyes the old look which I
remembered so well.
Josie, more than ever this season, was earning her father's commendation
as his "right-hand man." She insisted on driving the four horses which
drew the binder in the harvest. In the haying she operated the
horse-rake, and helped man the hay-fork in filling the barns. She grew
as tanned as if she had spent the time at the seashore or on the links;
and with every month she added to her charm. The scarlet of her lips,
the ruddy luxuriance of her hair, the arrowy straightness of her
carriage, the pulsing health which beamed from her eye, and dyed cheek
and neck, made their appeal to the women, even.
"How sweet she is!" said Alice, as she came to greet us one day when we
drove to the farm, and waited for her to come to us. "How sweet she is,
Albert!"
Her father came up, and explained to us that he didn't ask any of his
women folks to do any work except what there was in the house. He was
able to hire the outdoors work done, but Josie he couldn't keep out of
the fields.
"Why, pa," said she, "don't you see you would spoil my chances of
marrying a fairy prince? They absolutely never come into the house; and
my straw hat is the only really becoming thing I've got to wear!"
"Don't give a dum if yeh never marry," said Bill. "Hain't seen the man
yit that was good enough fer yeh, from my standpoint."
Bill's reputation was pretty well known to me by this time. He had been
for years a successful breeder and shipper of live-stock, in which
vocation he had become well-to-do. On his farm he was forceful and
efficient, treading his fields like an admiral his quarter-deck. About
town he was given to talking horses and cattle with the groups which
frequented the stables and blacksmith-shops, and sometimes grew a little
noisy and boisterous with them. Whenever her father went with a shipment
of cattle to Chicago or other market, Josie went too, taking a regular
passenger train in time to be waiting when Bill's stock train arrived;
and after the beeves were disposed of, Bill became her escort to opera
and art-gallery; on such a visit I had seen her at the Stock Yards. She
was fond of her father; but this alone did not explain her constant
attendance upon him. I soon came to understand that his prompt return
from the city, in good condition, was apt to be dependent upon her
influence. It was one of those cases of weakness, associated with
strength, the real mystery of which does not often occur to us because
they are so common.
He came into our office one day with a tremor in his hand and a hunted
look in his eye. He took a chair at my invitation, but rose at once,
went to the door, and looked up and down the street, as if for pursuers.
I saw Captain Tolliver across the street, and Bill's air of excitement
was explained. I was relieved, for at first I had thought him
intoxicated.
"What's the matter, Bill?" said I, after he had looked at me earnestly,
almost pantingly, for a few moments. "You look nervous."
"They're after me," he answered in repressed tones, "to sell; and I'll
be blasted if I know what to do! Wha' d'ye' 'spose they're offerin' me
for my land?"
"The fact is, Bill," said I, "that I know all about it. I'm interested
in the deal, somewhat."
"Then you know they've bid right around a thousand dollars an acre?"
"Yes," said I, "or at least that they intended to offer that."
"An' you're one o' the company," he queried, "that's doin' it?"
"Yes," I admitted.
"Wal," said he, "I'm kinder sorry you're in it, becuz I've about
concluded to sell; an' it seems to me that any concern that buys at that
figger is a-goin' to bust, sure. W'y, I bought that land fer two dollars
and a haff an acre. But, see here, now; I 'xpect you know your business,
an' see some way of gittin' out in the deal, 'r you wouldn't pay that.
But if I sell, I've got to have help with my folks."
"Ah," said I, scenting the usual obstacle in such cases, "Mrs. Trescott
a little unwilling to sign the deeds?"
"No," answered he, "strange as it may seem, ma's kinder stuck on comin'
to town to live. How she'll feel after she's tried it fer a month 'r so,
with no chickens 'r turkeys 'r milk to look after, I'm dubious; but jest
now she seems to be all right."
"Well, what's the matter then?" said I.
"Wal, it's Josie, to tell the truth," said he. "She's sort o' hangin'
back. An' it's for her sake that I want to make the deal! I've told her
an' told her that there's no dum sense in raisin' corn on
thousand-dollar land; but it's no use, so fur; an' here's the only
chanst I'll ever hev, mebbe, a-slippin' by. She ortn't to live her life
out on a farm, educated as she is. W'y, did you ever hear how she's been
educated?"
I told him that in a general way I knew, but not in detail.
"W'l, I want yeh to know all about it, so's yeh c'n see this movin'
business as it is," said he. "You know I was allus a rough cuss. Herded
cattle over there by yer father's south place, an' never went to school.
Ma, Josie's ma, y' know, kep' the Greenwood school, an' crossed the
prairie there where I was a-herdin', an' I used to look at her mighty
longin' as she went by, when the cattle happened to be clost along the
track, which they right often done. You know how them things go. An'
fin'ly one morning a blue racer chased her, as the little whelps will,
an' got his dummed little teeth fastened in her dress, an' she
a-hyperin' around haff crazy, and a-screamin' every jump, so's't I hed
to just grab her, an' hold her till I could get the blasted snake
off,--harmless, y' know, but got hooked teeth, an' not a lick o'
sense,--an' he kinder quirled around my arm, an' I nacherally tore him
to ribbins a-gittin' of him off. An' then she sort o' dropped off, an'
when she come to, I was a-rubbin' her hands an' temples. Wa'n't that a
funny interduction?"
"It's very interesting," said I; "go on."
"W'l you remember ol' Doc Maxfield?" said Bill, well started on a
reminiscence. "Wal, he come along, an' said it was the worst case of
collapse, whatever that means, that he ever see--her lips an' hands an'
chin all a-tremblin', an' flighty as a loon. Wal, after that I used to
take her around some, an' her folks objected becuz I was ignorant, an'
she learnt me some things, an' bein' strong an' a good dancer an' purty
good-lookin' she kind o' forgot about my failin's, an' we was married.
Her folks said she'd throwed herself away; but I could buy an' sell the
hull set of 'em now!"
This seemed conclusive as to the merits of the case, and I told him as
much.
"W'l Josie was born an' growed up," continued Bill, "an' it's her I
started to tell about, wa'n't it? She was allus a cute little thing, an'
early she got this art business in her head. She'd read about fellers
that had got to be great by paintin' an' carvin', an' it made her wild
to do the same thing. Wa'n't there a feller that pulled hair outer the
cat to paint Injuns with? Yes, I thought they was; I allus thought they
could paint theirselves good enough; but that story an' some others she
read an' read when she was a little gal, an' she was allus a-paintin'
an' makin' things with clay. She took a prize at the county fair when
she was fourteen, with a picter of Washin'ton crossin' the
Delaware--three dollars, by gum! An' then we hed to give her lessons;
an' they wasn't any one thet knew anything around here, she said, an'
she went to Chicago. An' I went in to visit her when she hedn't ben
there more'n six weeks, on an excursion one convention time, an' I found
her all tore up, a good deal as her ma was with the blue racer,--I don't
think she's ever ben the same light-hearted little gal sence,--an' from
there I took her to New York; an' there she fell in with a nice woman
that was awful good to her, an' they went to Europe, an' it cost a heap.
An' you may've noticed thet Josie knows a pile more'n the other women
here?"
I admitted that this had occurred to me.
"W'l, she was allus apt to take her head with her," said Bill, "but this
travelin' has fixed her like a hoss thet's ben druv in Chicago: nothin'
feazes her, street-cars, brass bands, circuses, overhead trains--it's
all the same to her, she's seen 'em all. Sometimes I git the notion that
she'd enjoy things more if she hadn't seen so dum many of 'em an' so
much better ones, y' know! Wal, after she'd ben over there a long time,
she wrote she was a-comin' home; an' we was tickled to death. Only I was
surprised by her writin' that she wanted us to take all them old picters
of hern, and put 'em out of sight! An' if you'll b'lieve it, she won't
talk picters nor make any sence she got back--only, jest after she got
back, she said she didn't see any use o' her goin' on dobbin' good
canvas up with good paint, an' makin' nothin' but poor picters; an' she
cried some.... I thought it was sing'lar that this art business that she
thought was the only thing thet'd ever make her happy was the only thing
I ever see her cry about."
"It's the way," said I, "with a great many of our cherished hopes."
"W'l, anyhow, you can see thet it's the wrong thing to put as much time
an' money into fixin' a child up f'r a different kind o' life as we hev,
an' then keep her on a farm out here. An' thet's why I want you to help
this sale through, an' bring influence to bear on her. I give up; I'm
all in."
To me Bill seemed entirely in the right. The new era made it absurd for