Volume I Part 12 (1/2)

All goned afay mit de Lager Beer---- Afay in de Ewigkeit!

CHARLES G.o.dFREY LELAND.

FRANCES M. WHICHER

TIM CRANE AND THE WIDOW

”O, no, Mr. Crane, by no manner o' means, 'tain't a minnit tow soon for you to begin to talk about gittin' married agin. I am amazed you should be afeerd I'd think so. See--how long's Miss Crane ben dead? Six months!--land o' Goshen!--why, I've know'd a number of individdiwals get married in less time than that. There's Phil Bennett's widder 't I was a-talkin' about jest now--she 't was Louisy Perce--her husband hadent been dead but _three_ months, you know. I don't think it looks well for a _woman_ to be in such a hurry--but for a _man_ it's a different thing--circ.u.mstances alters cases, you know. And then, sittiwated as you be, Mr. Crane, it's a turrible thing for your family to be without a head to superintend the domestic consarns and tend to the children--to say nothin' o' yerself, Mr. Crane. You dew need a companion, and no mistake. Six months! Good grievous! Why, Squire t.i.tus dident wait but six _weeks_ arter he buried his fust wife afore he married his second. I thought ther wa'n't no partickler need o' his hurryin' so, seein' his family was all grow'd up. Such a critter as he pickt out, tew! 'twas very onsuitable--but every man to his taste--I hain't no dispersition to meddle with n.o.body's consarns. There's old farmer Dawson, tew--his pardner hain't ben dead but ten months. To be sure, he ain't married yet--but he would a-ben long enough ago if somebody I know on'd gin him any incurridgement. But 'tain't for me to speak o' that matter. He's a clever old critter and as rich as a Jew--but--lawful sakes! he's old enough to be my father. And there's Mr. Smith--Jubiter Smith; you know him, Mr. Crane--his wife (she 'twas Aurory Pike) she died last summer, and he's ben squintin' round among the wimmin ever since, and he _may_ squint for all the good it'll dew him so far as I'm consarned--tho' Mr.

Smith's a respectable man--quite young and hain't no family--very well off, tew, and quite intellectible--but I'm purty partickler. O, Mr.

Crane! it's ten year come Jinniwary sence I witnessed the expiration o'

my belovid companion--an oncommon long time to wait, to be sure--but 'tain't easy to find anybody to fill the place o' Hezekier Bedott. I think _you're_ the most like husband of ary individdiwal I ever see, Mr.

Crane. Six months Murderation! Curus you should be afeered I'd think't was tew soon--why, I've know'd----”

MR. CRANE. ”Well, widder--I've been thinking about taking another companion--and I thought I'd ask you----”

WIDOW. ”O, Mr. Crane, egscuse my commotion, it's so onexpected.

Jest hand me that are bottle of camfire off the mantletry shelf--I'm ruther faint--dew put a little mite on my handkercher and hold it to my nuz. There--that'll dew--I'm obleeged tew ye--now I'm ruther more composed--you may perceed, Mr. Crane.”

MR. CRANE. ”Well, widder, I was a-going to ask you whether--whether----”

WIDOW. ”Continner, Mr. Crane--dew--I knew it's turrible embarrissin'. I remember when my dezeased husband made his suppositions to me he stammered and stuttered, and was so awfully fl.u.s.tered it did seems as if he'd never git it out in the world, and I s'pose it's ginnerally the case, at least it has been with all them that's made suppositions to me--you see they're ginerally oncerting about what kind of an answer they're a-gwine to git, and it kind o' makes 'em narvous.

But when an individdiwal has reason to suppose his attachment's reperated, I don't see what need there is o' his bein' fl.u.s.trated--tho'

I must say it's quite embarra.s.sin' to me--pray continner.”

MR. C. ”Well, then, I want to know if yu're willing I should have Melissy?”

WIDOW. ”The dragon!”

MR. C. ”I hain't said anything to her about it yet--thought the proper way was to get your consent first. I remember when I courted Trypheny, we were engaged some time before mother Kenipe knew anything about it, and when she found it out she was quite put out because I dident go to her first. So when I made up my mind about Melissy, thinks me, I'll dew it right this time and speak to the old woman first----”

WIDOW. ”_Old woman_, hey! That's a purty name to call me!--amazin' perlite, tew! Want Melissy, hey! Tribbleation! Gracious sakes alive! Well, I'll give it up now! I always know'd you was a simpleton, Tim Crane, but I _must_ confess I dident think you was _quite_ so big a fool! Want Melissy, dew ye? If that don't beat all!

What an everlastin' old calf you must be to s'pose she'd _look_ at _you_. Why, you're old enough to be her father, and more tew--Melissy ain't only in her twenty-oneth year. What a reed.i.c.kilous idee for a man o' your age! as gray as a rat, tew! I wonder what this world _is_ a-comin' tew: 'tis astonis.h.i.+n' what fools old widdiwers will make o'

themselves! Have Melissy! Melissy!”

MR. C. ”Why, widder, you surprise me. I'd no idee of being treated in this way after you'd been so polite to me, and made such a fuss over me and the girls.”

WIDOW. ”Shet yer head, Tim Crane--nun o' yer sa.s.s to me.

_There's_ yer hat on that are table, and _here's_ the door--and the sooner you put on _one_ and march out o' t'other, the better it'll be for you. And I advise you afore you try to git married agin, to go out West and see 'f yet wife's cold--and arter ye're satisfied on that pint, jest put a little lampblack on yer hair--'twould add to yer appearance undoubtedly, and be of sarvice tew you when you want to flourish round among the gals--and when ye've got yer hair fixt, jest splinter the spine o' yerback--'twould'n' hurt yer looks a mite--you'd be intirely unresistible if you was a _leetle_ grain straiter.”

MR. C. ”Well, I never!”

WIDOW. ”Hold yer tongue--you consarned old coot you. I tell ye _there's_ your hat, and _there's_ the door--be off with yerself, quick metre, or I'll give ye a hyst with the broomstick.”

MR. C. ”Gimmeni!”