Part 2 (1/2)
A dangerous light appeared in the other's eyes.
”It's the weather, you understand. Not your fault; bless you, no!”
The landlord's face became a shade less acrimonious.
”Now, if there was a fire in the room--it is such a comfortable, cheery room--”
”Sandy!” interrupted the host, calling to the long-armed, red-handed stable boy, who thrust a shock of hair through the kitchen door.
”Build a fire upstairs.”
Mr. Barnes heaved a sigh of relief and drawing a chair to the blaze prepared once more to enjoy a well-earned rest.
By this time the shadows had begun to lengthen in the room as the first traces of early twilight filled the valley. The gurgling still continued down the water pipe; the old sign before the front door moaned monotonously. An occasional gust of wind, which mysteriously penetrated the mist without sweeping it aside, rattled the windows and waved wildly in mid-air a venturesome rose which had clambered to the second story of the old inn. The barn-yard appeared even more dismal because of the coming darkness and the hens presented a pathetic picture of discomfort as they tucked their heads under their wet feathers for the night, while his lords.h.i.+p, the rooster, was but a sorry figure upon his high perch, with the moisture regularly and unceasingly dripping through the roof of the hen-house upon his unprotected back.
An aroma from the kitchen which penetrated the room seemed especially grateful to the manager who smiled with satisfaction as he conjured up visions of the forthcoming repast. By his Falstaffian girth, he appeared a man not averse to good living, nor one to deny himself plentiful libations of American home-brewed ale.
”Next to actual dining,” observed this past-master in the art, ”are the antic.i.p.ations of the table. The pleasure consists in speculation regarding this or that aroma, in cla.s.sifying the viands and separating this combination of culinary odors into courses of which you will in due time partake. Alas for the poor stroller when the tavern ceases to be! Already it is almost extinct on account of the Erie Ca.n.a.l. Only a short time ago this room would have been crowded with teamsters of the broad-tired Pennsylvania wagons, drawn by six or eight horses.”
Again the appetizing aroma from the kitchen turned the current of his reflections into its original channel, for he concluded with: ”An excellent dinner is in progress, if my diagnosis of these penetrating fragrances be correct.”
And it was soon demonstrated that the manager's discernment was not in error. There was not only abundance but quality, and the landlord's daughter waited on the guests, thereby subjecting herself to the very open advances of the Celtic Adonis. The large table was laden with heavy crockery, old-fas.h.i.+oned and quaint; an enormous rotary castor occupied the center of the table, while the forks and spoons were--an unusual circ.u.mstance!--of silver.
When the company had seated themselves around the board the waitress brought in a sucking pig, done to a turn, well stuffed, and with an apple in its mouth. The manager heaved a sigh.
”The lovely little monster,” said Kate, admiringly.
”Monster!” cried Susan. ”Say cherub!”
”So young and tender for such a fate!” exclaimed Hawkes, the melancholy individual, with knife and fork held in mid-air.
”But worthy of the bearer of the dis.h.!.+” remarked Adonis, so pointedly that the landlord's daughter, overwhelmed with confusion, nearly dropped the platter, miniature porker and all. Whereupon Kate cast an angry glance at the offender whom ”she could not abide,” yet regarded in a certain proprietary way, and Adonis henceforth became less open in his advances.
Those other aromas which the manager had mentally cla.s.sified took form and substance and were arranged in tempting variety around the appetizing and well-browned suckling. There were boiled and baked hams, speckled with cloves, plates of doughnuts and pound cake, beet root and apple sauce. Before each of the guests stood a foaming mug of home-brewed ale that carried with it a palpable taste of the hops.
”There is nothing of the stage repast about this,” commented the manager.
To which Kate, having often partaken of the conventional banquet of the theater, waved her hand in a serio-comic manner toward the _piece de resistance_ and observed:
”Suppose, now, by some necromancy our young and tender friend here on the platter should be changed to a cleverly fas.h.i.+oned block of wood, painted in imitation of a roasted porker, with a wooden apple in his mouth?”
The manager, poising the carving knife, replied:
”Your suggestion is startling. We will obviate the possibility of any such transformation.”
And he cut the ”ambrosian fat and lean” with a firm hand, eying the suckling steadfastly the while as if to preclude any exhibition of Hindoo mysticism, while the buxom la.s.s, the daughter of the boniface, with round arms bared, bore sundry other dishes from place to place until the plates were heaped with an a.s.sortment of viands.
”Well, my dear, how are you getting on?” said the manager to the young actress, Constance, as he helped himself to the crackle. ”Have you everything you want?”