Part 15 (2/2)

”Well, sir, I was too taken aback to say a word. I thought Doc had gone crazy. But he hadn't.

”When I kind of got my senses back I riled up right away. 'Well,' I says snappy, 'I think when you was pickin' out someone to be you might have picked out someone better. From all I've heard, Shakespeare wasn't no better than he'd ought to have been. He don't suit me no better than a Chinee would, and I hain't no fancy to marry Mister Shakespeare. Maybe you think it's fine doin's to be Shakespeare, Doc Weaver, but I don't, and I ain't going to marry a man that's like a two-headed cow, half one thing and half another, and not all of any. When you git your senses,'

I says, 'you can talk about marryin' me' and off I went, perky as a peac.o.c.k. But I cried 'most all night.

”Him an' me kind of stood off from each other after that, and I made up my mind I'd die before I'd marry Doc so long as he was Shakespeare, and Doc had got the notion that he was Shakespeare so set in his mind it seemed likely he would.

”I hadn't never took much stock in poetry readin' since I got out of 'Mother Goose,' but I begun to read Shakespeare a little jist to see what kind of poetry Doc thought he had writ when he was Shakespeare.

Well, I wouldn't want to see sich books in the Sunday School Lib'ry, that's all I've got to say. Some I couldn't make sense out of, but there was one long poem about Venus and some young feller--well, I shouldn't thing the gov'ment would allow sich things printed! I jist knowed Doc couldn't ever have writ such stuff. There ain't so much meanness in him.

But I couldn't see clear how to make Doc see it that way.

”I'd about given up hopes of ever curing Doc, when one day a feller come to town and give a lecture in the dance room over the grocery. He was one of these spiritualism fellers, and as soon as it was noised around that he was comin', I knowed Doc would be the first man to go and the last to come away, and he was. Thinks I, 'Let him go. If Doc jines in with spiritualists, it will be better'n what he believes in now, and if he begins changin' religions, mebby I can keep him changin', and change him into a churchgoer.” And so, jist to see what Doc was like to be, I coaxed ma to go, an' I went, too. It wasn't near so sinful as I expected.

”The feller's name was Gilson, an' he was as pale as a picked chicken, but real common lookin', otherwise. He was a right-down good talker and seemed real earnest. He wasn't the ghost-raisin' kind of spiritualist, and them that went to see a show, come away dissap'inted, for all he did was to talk and take up a collection. He said he was a new beginner and used to be a Presbyterian minister. Doc stayed after it was over and had a talk with Gilson, and of course he got converted, like he always did.

He told ma so.

”I hadn't been havin' much talk with Doc one way or another, but when ma told me he had jined the spiritualists I eased up a litt, and one day I made bold to say, 'Well, Doc, I s'pose now you have give up that Shakespeare foolishness, ain't you?'

”'No, Loreny,' he says, 'I ain't.'

”'Land's sakes!' I says, 'do you mean to say you can be two things at once in religion, as well as bein' Shakespeare and Doc Weaver?'

”'Yes, Loreny,' he says. 'The spirit has got to be somewheres between the times it has got a body,' he says, 'That stands to reason. It's always puzzled me where I was between the time I died two or three hundred years ago and the time I entered this body,' he says, 'and spiritualism makes it all clear. I was floatin' in s.p.a.ce.'

”That's jist how fool-crazy Doc was them days. There he was believin'

with all his might that r'inca'nation business and that spirit business at the same time.

”I says, 'Well, Doc, some day you'll see how deep in error you are,' and I didn't say no more.

”Of course Doc wouldn't let well-enough alone. There was a big spiritualist over to Peory, Illinoy, a reg'lar ghost-raisin' feller, and what did Doc do but write over and git him to come to Kilo and give a seance. That is a meetin' where they raise up ghosts. Doc wanted the feller to stop at our house, but I wouldn't have it, so he had to put up at the hotel. Doc said it was a shame, but as soon as I seen the man I said it served him right, and that he was a fraud, but Doc swallered him right down, hide an' hoof.

”They had the seance in the hotel parlor, and no charge, so me and ma went, thought we wasn't jist sure it was right; but I says it wasn't as if it was real--we knowed it was all foolishness; so ma and me trotted along. I found out afterward that Doc paid to have the feller come to Kilo. His name was Moller, an' he was one of them long-haired greasy-lookin' men.

”I must say it was real scary when they turned the lights down an'

Moller made tables jump around and fiddles play without anybody playin'

on them. There wasn't many folks there, but ma held my hand, an' I held ma's, and Doc was right in front of us.

”Moller did a lot of tricks sich as I hear they always do, an' then he said he'd bring up any spirits anyone would like to have come up. That was what Doc was waitin' for, and he popped right up.

”'I should like to talk to Bacon,' he says.

”'Bacon?' says Moller. 'There's a good many Bacons in spirit-land. Which one do you want to speak to, brother?”

”'The one that lived when Shakespeare did,' says Doc. 'The one that wrote the essays and sich. Sir Francis Bacon.'

”'Ah, yes!' says Moller. 'I'll see if he's willin' to say anyting to-night.' And down he set into a chair. Well, you'd have died! In a bit his head and legs begun to jerk like he had St. Vitus dance, and then he straightened out, stiff as a broomstick. It was the silliest thing ever I seen. I felt real sorry for Doc, he was so dead earnest about it.

”In a minute Moller opened his jaw and begun to talk. It was all sort of jerky-like.

<script>