Part 4 (2/2)
It was very natural to consider whether there wasn't a yard or two left somewhere of that valuable carpet, and to regret that on the whole probably the original owners had occasion to use the entire piece.
Then the thought was very naturally suggested of the marvellous wooden horse with the pegs in his neck, who soared with his riders a great deal higher than does Mr. Wise in his clumsy balloon, and always came down a great deal easier than ever Mr.
Wise did yet. Of course the Cash Customer was from the start perfectly convinced that _that_ breed of horses is long since extinct, so long ago that no record of them is now to be found in either the ”American Racing Calendar,” or the ”English Stud Book.”
Then very naturally came thoughts of the broomstick changes of the more modern witches. Perhaps, he thought, these are the colts of the wooden horse, degenerate, it is true, and lacking in the grace and symmetry of their extraordinary sire, but still perhaps not inferior in speed or in safety of carriage.
The thought was a brilliant one, and it was really worth while to inquire into the matter and pursue this phantom steed until he was fairly hunted down and bridled ready for use.
It needed no long cogitation or extended argument to convince Johannes, the ”Individual,” the Cash Customer, of the immense practical value of such a steed, to say nothing of his costing nothing to keep, and of its therefore being utterly impossible for him to ”eat his own head off,” and of his never growing old, and of his never having any of the mult.i.tudinous diseases that afflict ordinary horses without any intermixture of magic blood, and therefore of it being out of the question for anybody to cheat his owner in a horse-trade.
Why, only think of his value for livery purposes in case his happy proprietor was disposed to let other folks use him for a proper compensation. He could of course be trained to carry double, and no doubt Mr. Rarey, or some other person potent in horse education, could easily break him to go in harness.
It wasn't likely, Johannes cogitated, that the judges would allow him to enter his ligneous racer at the Fas.h.i.+on Course, so that he'd not get a chance to win any money from Lancet and Flora Temple, still there was a hope, even on that point.
So, in search of the witch wife, whose dower should be the broomstick horse, that should set the fond couple up in business, started the sanguine lover.
Having had some experience of New York fortune-tellers and others in the magic line, and not thinking they were of the sort likely to have so great a treasure, he started for the suburbs, and crossed the ferry to Williamsburgh, in order to pay a visit of inquiry, and if possible to take the initiatory step in courting Mrs. Pugh, of No. 102 South First Street, in that city.
He designed, of course, to buy a ”fortune” at a liberal price, for the purpose of setting the lady in good-humor as a necessary preliminary step. He really had hopes that she would prove to be of a slightly different style from some of the New York fortune-tellers, who seem to have mistaken their profession and to be hardly up to reading the stars with success, although they might be fully equal to all the financial exigencies of an apple and peanut stand, or might win an honorable distinction crying ”radishes and lettuce” in the early morning hours; or upon trial, might, perhaps, evince a decided genius for the rag-picking business, or preside over the fortunes of a soap-fat cart with distinguished ability.
Threading the winding ways of Williamsburgh is by no means an easy task for one unaccustomed, and it was only by incessantly stopping the pa.s.sers-by and making the most minute inquiries that this lady was ever achieved at all.
This constant questioning of the public revealed, however, the fact that Mrs. Pugh does not by any means depend upon her fortune-telling for her bread-and-b.u.t.ter; she is a nurse, as many a Williamsburgh baby could testify if it could command its emotions long enough to speak. What will be the influence of her supernaturalism and witchcraft upon the children intrusted to her fostering care-whether they will in after life prove to be devils, demi-G.o.ds, heroes, or mere ordinary ”humans,” time alone can show. This ill.u.s.trious lady does not advertise in the newspapers; in fact, her fortune-telling is done on the sly, as if she were yet an apprentice, and a little ashamed of her bungling jobs, for which, by the way, she only charges half price. She is in a very undecided state, and evidently undetermined whether her proper vocation is tending babies or revealing the decrees of the fates at twenty-five cents a head, and when her visitors made their appearance she was puzzled to know whether their business was baby or black art.
Her exertions in either profession have not as yet gained her a very large fortune, judging from the surroundings of her eligible residence.
The domicile of this chrysalis enchantress is a low frame house of two stories, standing back from the street, directly in the rear of another row of more pretentious mansions, as if it had been sent into the back yard in disgrace and never permitted to show itself in good society again. It seems conscious of its humiliation, and wears an air of architectural dejection that is quite touching. A troop of dirty-faced children was in the yard, and in the corner was a pile of other household inc.u.mbrances, consisting princ.i.p.ally of mops and washtubs.
Johannes critically examined this interesting collection, but the wished-for broomstick was not there. A modest rap brought to the door a large ill-favored man with a red nose and a ponderous pair of boots, whose speciality seemed to be drinking whatever spirituous liquors were consumed about the establishment.
Having pa.s.sed this s.h.i.+rt-sleeved sentinel without damage, though not without fear, the Cash Customer sat down to take an observation.
The wooden courser was not to be seen at first glance. The room was a small irregularly-shaped one, with an intrusive chimney jutting out into the floor from one side, as if it were a st.u.r.dy brick-and-mortar poor relation of the premises come a visiting and not to be got rid of at any price. A small cooking-stove was in the fireplace, with an attendant on either side in the shape of a battered coal-scuttle, and a small saucepan full of charcoal; the floor was covered with a dirty rag carpet that had long since outlived its beauty and its usefulness, and was now in the last extremity of a tattered old age; half-a-dozen chairs of different patterns, all much shattered in health and enfeebled by long years of labor, and a decrepit lounge in the last stages of a decline, were the seats reserved for visitors; the other furniture of the room was an antique chest of drawers of a most curious and complicated pattern-it seemed as if the mechanic had been uncertain whether he was to construct a bureau or a cow-shed, and had accordingly satisfied his conscience by making half-a-dozen drawers and building a sloping roof over them; the joints were warped apart, and through the c.h.i.n.ks could be seen fragments of clean s.h.i.+rt, and ends of lace, and bits of flannel, suggesting babies. At a wink from the female, the male with the ponderous boots retired from the presence.
Mrs. Pugh is a woman of medium height and size, with a clear grey eye, and light hair, and wearing that sycophantic smile peculiar to people who have much to do with ugly babies whose beauty must be constantly praised to the doting parents. She was attired in a neat calico dress, constructed for family use, and for the particular accommodation of the younger members of the household.
Johannes, who had been taking a sly look, had made up his mind that she would not be quite so objectionable for a wife as he had feared, and he had fully resolved to woo and wed her off-hand, provided she had the broomstick of his hopes.
So, by way of a beginning, he announced that he would like her to exercise her magic powers in his behalf.
Mrs. Pugh had evidently previously regarded him as an enthusiastic young father with a pair of troublesome twins, who had come to seek her ministrations, and she undoubtedly had high wages, innumerable presents, and exorbitant perquisites in her mind's eye at that instant.
When, however, she learned that her visitor merely wished to know what the fates had resolved to do about his particular case, she was slightly disappointed, for the babies are more profitable than the planets. However, she soon reconciled herself to her fate, and produced from some cranny immediately under the eaves of the cow-shed bureau, a pack of cards wrapped up in an old newspaper. She then carefully locked the door to keep out the children, and drew down the curtains lest their inquiring minds should lead them to observe her mysterious operations through the window. Then taking the wonder-working pieces of pasteboard in her hands, and seating herself opposite her visitor, she announced her gracious will, thus: ”You shall have six wishes.”
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