Part 17 (1/2)
page 987, including charades, conundrums, quaint mathematical catches, et cetery, compiled to brighten the mind and puzzle the wits, suitable for young or old, for grave or gay. It is a book that meets every want of every day, is neatly and durably bound, and the price is only five dollars.”
Miss Sally turned as if to run away, but Eliph' put out his hand and touched her arm lightly.
”But I don't,” he said. ”I don't quote, and I don't propound. I put the book aside and I forget. When my work is done I relax my mind. I enter into the pleasures I find most congenial, such as festivals, sociables, fairs, kermesses, picnics, parties, receptions, et cetery, rules and suggestions for conducting all of which are to be found in this book, which is recommended and esteemed by the leaders of society, both in the Four Hundred and out. Or I read a good book, a list of five hundred of which may be found on page 336, 'The Reader's Guide,' giving advice in selecting fiction, history, philosophy, religious works, poetry, et cetery, the whole selected by eight of the most eminent professors of literature in our colleges and universities, both at home and abroad.
Or I indulge in conversation, in which what better guide than is to be found on page 662, 'The Polite Conversationalist,' including gems of wit, apt quotations, how to gain and hold the attention, how to amuse, instruct and argue, et cetery? When it is remember that all this, and much more, can be had for only five dollars, neatly bound in cloth, one dollar down and one dollar a month until paid, what wonder is it that--that----”
Suddenly one of the paper lanterns that hung from the wire above them burst into flame, and Eliph' saw on Miss Sally's face the look of fear with which she was regarding him, fear and fascination mingled. The smile faded from his lips, and his gentle blue eyes became troubled.
He dropped the hand that had been lightly resting on her arm, and his dapper air of self-confidence wilted in abashment.
”Was I--was I talking book?” he asked weakly. ”I was! Pardon me, Miss Briggs, pardon me, I didn't know it. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to.”
For a moment Miss Sally studied his face, and she saw only a genuine contrition there, and a regret so deep that she was sorry for him. There could be no doubt of his sincerity.
”Well!” she exclaimed, with a breath of relief; ”I do believe you didn't know you was! I believe that book's got so ground into you that you can't help but talk it, like Benny Tenneker, who got so used to climbin'
trees an' fallin' out of 'em that he used to climb the bedposts an' fall of of 'em in his sleep without wakin' up. Mrs. Doc Weaver's his aunt, an' when he visited her he nearly got killed fallin' out of bed when he was tryin' to climb a bed post when there wasn't not on the bed. He'd got so he could fall out of any high place an' light safe, but he wasn't used to fallin' off of low ones. He was such a nice boy. All Martha Willing's children were nice. Mebby you've met her. She lives out Clarence way.”
”Willin?” said Eliph'. ”Yes, I sold her a--I mean to say, I met her.”
”Well, her husband's dead, and her and her boys is runnin' the farm,”
said Miss Sally, ”an' doin' right well, so I guess she ain't afraid of book agents. She can afford to buy. I don't know as I'm afraid of 'em either, or hate 'em as such, but I can't afford. Pa don't approve of books much, an' he can't see why he should pay out money for what he don't approve of. Books an' taxes he don't care much for. That's why I was so scared of you.”
”I didn't want to sell you a--to sell you anything,” said Eliph' meekly.
”All I wanted was to get acquainted, to get well acquainted.”
”I guess that's all right then,” said Miss Sally. ”There ain't anything more natural than that you should wish that, bein' intendin' to make your home here. I hope you like the place an' make lot of acquaintances, but if I was you I'd try not to talk book any more than you have to.
I don't think it'll help to make you popular, as I may say. That Sir Walter man sort of gave everybody an overdose of book, an' folks feel kind of mad at book agents ever since. Like father Emmons, when he had one of his sick spells, an' nothin' would do but he was goin' to die, so he got up before sun-up an' drove to town to see Doc Weaver. He let Doc know he felt he was dyin' an' told him the symptoms, an' all Doc says was, 'All you want is salts. You stop at the drug store an' get a pound of salts, an' I'll warrant you'll be as well as ever.' So when his daughter--she's Mary Ann Klepper--went into the house after carryin'
lunch to the men in the field, there was her poor old father settin' at the table with the big yeller bake-bowl in front of him, an' him eatin' away at what was in it with a big spoon. 'Eatin' bread an' milk, father?' she asks, an' her pa looks up with tears in his eyes, an'
swallers down another spoonful. 'No,' he says, as cross as a bear, 'I'm eatin' a pound o' salts Doc Weaver told me to git, but hang if I can eat another spoonful, an' I ain't above half done.' So I guess Kilo folks kind of gag when they think of books.”
”If I so much as mention books,” said Eliph' pleadingly, ”I wish you'd stop me. Don't let me. Mebby I do sort of get in the habit of it, thinking it and talking it so much. But I never meant to sell you one. I only wanted to get acquainted.”
Miss Sally laughed.
”Well,” she said cheerfully, ”there's different ways to do it, but I guess you an' me have got well acquainted different from what most folks does. Ain't you been over to the ice-cream table yet? Or was you waitin'
to be primed; that's what us ladies is here for, to start folks spendin'
money, like Mrs. Foster's little nephew that come up from the city to visit her last summer. He wanted to know what everything was for that was on the farm or in the house, that he wasn't used to, an' when they told him they always had to leave a dipper of water in the pail to prime the pump with so it would give water, he wanted to know if the reason they had the pans of milk in the spring-house was so they could prime the cows so they would give milk.”
Eliph' laughed heartily, for his heart was light. He was making progress; Miss Sally admitted that they were well acquainted, and now he could proceed to the second step advised in ”Courts.h.i.+p; How to Win the Affections; How to Hold Them When Won.”
CHAPTER XIII. ”Second: A Small Present”
The next morning Eliph' Hewlitt purchased the two-pound box of candy in the pictured box that had long been considered by the druggist a foolish investment. For months it had reposed in the end of the toilet soap case awaiting a purchaser, and had acquired a sweet odor of scented soap mingled with the plainer odor of cut castile, and no one had been so extravagant as to buy it. Once the druggist had tried to persuade the candy salesman to take it back in exchange for more salable goods, but after taking it from the show-case and smelling it the drummer refused.
At the opposite end of the case the druggist kept his plush manicure and brush-and-comb sets, with a few lumps of camphor scattered among them to discourage moths, but the odor of camphor did not hurt the candy. The scented soap protected it from the camphor. When Kilo buys scented soap she likes to have it really scented.
Miss Sally, when the small boy Eliph' secured as a messenger had delivered the box of candy, knew well enough what it meant. The neatly written card, ”From Yours very truly, E. Hewlitt,” did not suggest much, perhaps, but in Kilo friends do not scatter two-pound boxes of candy recklessly about. To receive a two-pound box on Christmas would have been a suspicious circ.u.mstance, for a smaller box would have done quite as well between friends, but to send a two-pound box on a day that was no holiday at all, but just a plain day of the week, could stand for but one of two things--the giver was insane, or he had ”intentions,” and Miss Sally knew very well that Eliph' Hewlitt was not insane. Unless on the subject of Jarby's Encyclopedia.
She carried the box of candy to Mrs. Smith, and showed her the card.