Part 13 (1/2)
One evening a picnic was given on the lawn of a prominent citizen. It had been heralded as a moonlight event, but the moon was sullen and the light was shed from paper lanterns hung in the trees. There was to be no dancing and no forfeit games, for McElwin was still raw, and the master of the gathering on the lawn would not dare to throw sand on the spots where the rich man's prideful skin had been raked off. The entertainment was to consist of talk among the older ones, chatter among the slips of girls and striplings of men, with music for all.
”You will have to go to write it up,” Warren said to Lyman.
”It won't be necessary to go,” Lyman replied. ”We can hold a pleasanter memory of such events if we don't really see them. I can write of it from a distance.”
”Yes, but that isn't enterprise, and we want to prove to these people that we are enterprising. They must see you on the ground.”
”All right.”
”You will go, then?”
”That's what I meant when I said all right.”
”And you didn't mean that you'd simply look over the fence and then come away?”
”No, I mean that I'll go and be a fool with the rest of them.”
”That's all I ask. Here's an invitation. You'll have to show it at the gate.”
”Why don't you go, Warren?”
”It would be absurd.”
”Why? Your clothes might be worse.”
”There are a good many observations that don't apply to clothes. The entertainment is to be given by the Hon. Mr. S. Boyd. One time, with great reluctance, he lifted a grinding heel off my head. I owe him five dollars.”
”And it would be embarra.s.sing to meet him, by invitation, on his own lawn.”
”Yes. I'll pay him one of these days, but of course he doesn't know that.”
”Probably he doesn't even suspect it,” said Lyman.
”No. He's dull, and not inclined to be speculative.”
”I should take him to be wildly adventurous.”
”Why so?”
”He let you have five dollars.”
”Oh, I see. But that's all right. He'll treat you well. Say, he may pa.s.s cigars with a gilt band around them. Put a few in your pocket for me.”
”I might have a chance to sneak a whole box.”
”Come, don't rub the lamp. Rub the ring and get two cigars. I'll sit up and wait for them. If Boyd asks you why I have been dodging him, tell him I'm not well.”
The lawn was a spread of blue gra.s.s, beneath trees with low, hanging boughs, and through the misty light and moving shadows the house looked like a castle. The air was vibrant with the music of the ”string” band, gathered from the livery stable and the barber shop; and mingled with the music as if it were a part of the sound, was the half sad scent of the crushed geranium. At the gate a black man, in a long coat b.u.t.toned to the ground, took Lyman's card of invitation.
From groups of white came the laugh of youth, and from darker gatherings came the hum of talk. Lyman shook hands with nearly every one whom he met, laughing; and his good humor was an introduction to persons he had never seen before. He felt that he was a part of a joke which everyone was enjoying. The Hon. S. Boyd came forward and shook hands with him.