Part 9 (1/2)
[Ill.u.s.tration: A PINCH OF SNUFF.]
He walked in, in his slouching fas.h.i.+on, shook hands with M. Perritaut, gave his name as David Sawney, cawntracter, and after talking a little about the county-seat question, he broached the question of marriage with Mathilde Perritaut.
”I hearn tell that you are willin' to do somethin' han'some fer a son-in-law.”
”Varee good, Mistare Sonee. You air a man of bisnees, perhaps, maybe. You undairstand tese tings. Eh? _Tres bien_--I mean vary well, you see. I want that my daughtare zhould maree one re-spect-_ah_-ble man. Vare good.
You air one, maybe. I weel find out. _Tres bien, you_ see, my daughtare weel marree the man that I zay. You weel come ovare here next week. Eef I find you air respect-_ah_-ble, I weel then get my lawyare to make a marriage contract.”
”A cawntrack?” said Dave, starting at the sound of his favorite word.
”Very well, musheer, I sign a cawntrack and live up to it.”
”Vare good. Weel you have one leetle peench of snuff?” said the old man, politely opening his box.
”Yes, I'm obleeged, musheer,” said Dave. ”Don't keer ef I do.” And by way of showing his good-will and ingratiating himself with the Frenchman, Dave helped himself to an amazingly large pinch. Indeed, not being accustomed to take snuff, he helped himself, as he did to chewing tobacco when it was offered free, with the utmost liberality. The result did not add to the dignity of his bearing, for he was seized with a succession of convulsions of sneezing. Dave habitually did everything in the noisiest way possible, and he wound up each successive fit of sneezing with a whoop that gave him the semblance of practicing an Indian war-song, by way of fitting himself to wed a half-breed wife.
”I declare,” he said, when the sneezing had subsided, ”I never did see no sech snuff.”
”Vare good,” resumed M. Perritaut. ”I weel promees in the contract to geeve you one ten tousant tollars--_deux mille_--two tousant avery yare for fife yare. _Tres bien_. My daughtare is edu_cate_; she stoody fife, seex yare in te convent at Montreal. Zhe play on piano evare so many tune. _Bien_. You come Monday. We weel zee. Adieu. I mean good-by, Mistare Sonee.”
”Adoo, musheer,” said Dave, taking his hat and leaving. He boasted afterwards that he had spoke to the ole man in French when he was comin'
away. Thought it mout kinder tickle him, you know. And he said he didn'
mind a brown complexion a bit. Fer his part, seemed to him 'twas kinder purty fer variety. Wouldn' want all women reddish, but fer variety 'twas sorter nice, you know. He always did like sompin' odd.
And he now threw all his energy into the advocacy of Perritaut. It was the natural location of a county-seat. Metropolisville never would be nawthin'.
Monday morning found him at Perritaut's house, ready to sell himself in marriage. As for the girl, she, poor brown lamb--or wolf, as the case may be--was ready, with true Indian stolidity, to be disposed of as her father chose. The parties who were interested in the town of Perritaut had got wind of Dave's proposition; and as they saw how important his influence might be in the coming election, they took pains to satisfy Monsieur Perritaut that Mr. Sawney was a very proper person to marry his tawny daughter and pocket his yellow gold-pieces. The lawyer was just finis.h.i.+ng the necessary doc.u.ments when Dave entered.
”_Eh bien_! How you do, Mistare Sonee? Is eet dat you weel have a peench of snuff?” For the Frenchman had quite forgotten Dave's mishap in snuff-taking, and offered the snuff out of habitual complaisance.
”No, musheer,” said Dave, ”I can't use no snuff of late yeers. 'Fection of the nose; makes me sneeze dreffle.”
”Oh! _Eh blen! C'est comme il faut_. I mean dat is all right, vare good, mistare. Now, den, Monsieur _l'Avocat_, I mean ze lawyare, he is ready to read ze contract.”
”Cawntrack? Oh! yes, that's right. We Americans marry without a cawntrack, you see. But I like cawntracks myself. It's my business, cawntracking is, you know. Fire away whenever you're ready, mister.” This last to the lawyer, who was waiting to read.
Dave sat, with a knowing air, listening to the legal phraseology as though he had been used to marriage contracts from infancy. He was pleased with the notion of being betrothed in this awful diplomatic fas.h.i.+on. It accorded with his feelings to think that he was worth ten thousand dollars and the exhaustive verbiage of this formidable cawntrack.
But at last the lawyer read a part which made him open his eyes.
Something about its being further stipulated that the said David Sawney, of the first part, in and for the consideration named, ”hereby binds himself to have the children which shall issue from this marriage educated in the Roman Catholic faith,” caught his ears.
”Hold on, mister, I can't sign that! I a'n't over-pertikeler about who I marry, but I can't go that.”
”What part do you object to?”
”Well, ef I understand them words you've got kiled up there--an' I'm purty middlin' smart at big words, you see--I'm to eddicate the children in the Catholic faith, as you call it.”
”Yes, that is it.”
”_Oui_! vare good. Dat I must inseest on,” said Perritaut.
”Well, I a'n't nothin' in a religious way, but I can't stan' that air.