Volume V Part 14 (1/2)

A PIANO IN ARKANSAS

BY THOMAS BANGS THORPE

We shall never forget the excitement which seized upon the inhabitants of the little village of Hardscrabble as the report spread through the community that a real piano had actually arrived within its precincts.

Speculation was afloat as to its appearance and its use. The name was familiar to everybody; but what it precisely meant, no one could tell.

That it had legs was certain; for a stray volume of some literary traveler was one of the most conspicuous works in the floating library of Hardscrabble, and said traveler stated that he had seen a piano somewhere in New England with pantalets on; also, an old foreign paper was brought forward, in which there was an advertis.e.m.e.nt headed ”Soiree,” which informed the ”citizens, generally,” that Mr. Bobolink would preside at the piano.

This was presumed by several wiseacres, who had been to a menagerie, to mean that Mr. Bobolink stirred the piano with a long pole, in the same way that the showman did the lions and rhi-no-ce-rus.

So, public opinion was in favor of its being an animal, though a harmless one; for there had been a land-speculator through the village a few weeks previously, who distributed circulars of a ”Female Academy”

for the accomplishment of young ladies. These circulars distinctly stated ”the use of the piano to be one dollar per month.”

One knowing old chap said, if they would tell him what so-i-ree meant, he would tell them what a piano was, and no mistake.

The owner of this strange instrument was no less than a very quiet and very respectable late merchant of a little town somewhere ”north,” who, having failed at home, had emigrated into the new and hospitable country of Arkansas, for the purpose of bettering his fortune and escaping the heartless sympathy of his more lucky neighbors, who seemed to consider him a very bad and degraded man because he had become honestly poor.

The new-comers were strangers, of course. The house in which they were setting up their furniture was too little arranged ”to admit of calls;”

and, as the family seemed very little disposed to court society, all prospects of immediately solving the mystery that hung about the piano seemed hopeless. In the meantime, public opinion was ”rife.”

The depository of this strange thing was looked upon by the pa.s.sers-by with indefinable awe; and, as noises unfamiliar sometimes reached the street, it was presumed that the piano made them, and the excitement rose higher than ever. In the midst of it, one or two old ladies, presuming upon their age and respectability, called upon the strangers and inquired after their health, and offered their services and friends.h.i.+p; meantime, everything in the house was eyed with great intensity, but, seeing nothing strange, a hint was given about the piano. One of the new family observed, carelessly, ”that it had been much injured by bringing out, that the damp had affected its tones, and that one of its legs was so injured that it would not stand up, and for the present it would not ornament the parlor.”

Here was an explanation indeed: injured in bringing out; damp affecting its tones; leg broken. ”Poor thing!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the old ladies, with real sympathy, as they proceeded homeward; ”traveling has evidently fatigued it; the Ma.s.s-is-sip fogs has given it a cold, poor thing!” and they wished to see it with increased curiosity.

The ”village” agreed that if Moses Mercer, familiarly called ”Mo Mercer,” was in town, they would have a description of the piano, and the uses to which it was put; and, fortunately, in the midst of the excitement ”Mo” arrived, he having been temporarily absent on a hunting-expedition.

Moses Mercer was the only son of ”old Mercer,” who was, and had been, in the State Senate ever since Arkansas was admitted into the ”Union.” Mo from this fact received great glory, of course; his father's greatness alone would have stamped him with superiority; but his having been twice in the ”Capitol” when the legislature was in session stamped his claims to pre-eminence over all compet.i.tors.

Mo Mercer was the oracle of the renowned village of Hardscrabble.

”Mo” knew everything; he had all the consequence and complacency of a man who had never seen his equal, and never expected to. ”Mo” bragged extensively upon his having been to the ”Capitol” twice,--of his there having been in the most ”fas.h.i.+onable society,”--of having seen the world. His return to town was therefore received with a shout. The arrival of the piano was announced to him, and he alone of all the community was not astonished at the news.

His insensibility was considered wonderful. He treated the piano as a thing that he was used to, and went on, among other things, to say that he had seen more pianos in the ”Capitol,” than he had ever seen woodchucks, and that it was not an animal, but a musical instrument played upon by the ladies; and he wound up his description by saying that the way ”the dear creatures could pull music out of it was a caution to hoa.r.s.e owls.”

The new turn given to the piano-excitement in Hardscrabble by Mo Mercer was like pouring oil on fire to extinguish it, for it blazed out with more vigor than ever. That it was a musical instrument made it a rarer thing in that wild country than if it had been an animal, and people of all sizes, colors, and degrees were dying to see and hear it.

Jim Cash was Mo Mercer's right-hand man: in the language of refined society, he was ”Mo's toady;” in the language of Hardscrabble, he was ”Mo's wheel-horse.” Cash believed in Mo Mercer with an abandonment that was perfectly ridiculous. Mr. Cash was dying to see the piano, and the first opportunity he had alone with his Quixote he expressed the desire that was consuming his vitals.

”We'll go at once and see it,” said Mercer.

”Strangers!” echoed the frightened Cash.

”Humbug! Do you think I have visited the 'Capitol' twice, and don't know how to treat fas.h.i.+onable society? Come along at once, Cash,” said Mercer.

Off the pair started, Mercer all confidence, and Cash all fears as to the propriety of the visit. These fears Cash frankly expressed; but Mercer repeated for the thousandth time his experience in the fas.h.i.+onable society of the ”Capitol, and pianos,” which he said ”was synonymous;” and he finally told Cash, to comfort him, that, however abashed and ashamed he might be in the presence of the ladies, ”he needn't fear of sticking, for he would pull him through.”

A few minutes' walk brought the parties on the broad galleries of the house that contained the object of so much curiosity. The doors and windows were closed, and a suspicious look was on everything.