Part 8 (1/2)

Mr. Sam's little eyes were twinkling, and his sharp features were twisting themselves into knots which were anything but becoming.

”Calvin,” he said, ”when I look at that young woman--at least not exactly young, but a sight younger than some, and all the better for it--what word do you think I use to myself?”

”I don't know!” said Calvin shortly.

Mr. Sam leaned back, and expanded his red flannel waistcoat.

”Take time, Cal!” he said kindly. ”Find a good solid-soundin' word suitable to the occasion, and spit it out!”

”Look at here!” said Calvin, still more shortly. ”I come out here to see your hogs, and I've seen 'em. I didn't come out to play guessin' games; if you've got anything to say to me, say it! If not, I'm goin' home.”

Mr. Sam leaned forward, and poked Calvin in the ribs with a skinny forefinger.

”Matrimony's the word, Cal!” he said. ”Holy matrimony! Ain't that a good word? ain't it suitable? ain't it what you might call providential?

ain't it? hey?” He paused for a reply; but none coming, he went on.

”I made use of that word, Calvin, the fust time Cousin stepped across our thrishhold, four months back; and I've ben makin' use of it every day since then. Now, Cal, I want you to help me!”

”Help you!” repeated Calvin, mechanically.

”Help me!” repeated Mr. Sam. ”If you can help me to bring about matrimony between Cousin and Simeon,--”

”_What_!” said Calvin Parks.

Mr. Sam stared. ”Between Cousin and Simeon!” he repeated. ”What did you think I said? You could be of a.s.sistance to me, Calvin. You know Sim and me ain't havin' any dealin's jest at present, and direckly you come along I says to myself, 'Calvin,' I says, 'is the one who can be of a.s.sistance to me.'”

”I thought 'twas you was goin' to marry her!” said Calvin grimly.

”Me, Cal? no! no! What put that into your head?” and Mr. Sam screwed his features afresh, and shook his head emphatically. ”I admire Cousin, none more so; but if I was marryin',--and I don't say but I shall, some day,--I should look out for something jest a mite more stylish. But there's plenty of time, plenty of time. Besides, I want to travel, Calvin. I want to see something of the world. Here I've sot all my days, and never ben further than Bangor. Ma never held with the notion of folks goin' out of the State of Maine. 'If folks want to go to Ma.s.sachusetts,' she'd say, 'they'd orter be born there.' Now, no disrespect to Ma, you understand, Cal, but that ain't my idee. I want to go to Boston, and maybe New York. I dono but I might go out west and locate there. But there's the farm, you see, Cal, and there's Simeon.

Sim ain't a man that's fit to travel, nor yet he ain't able to see to things as should be. But if he and Cousin was man and wife, don't you see, the two of 'em could get on fust-rate, and I could go off. You see how 'tis, Calvin, don't you?”

Calvin Parks turned upon him with a flash.

”What makes you think she'd be seen dead with either one of you two squinny old lobsters?” he asked fiercely.

Mr. Sam stared again.

”A woman, Calvin, wants a home!” he said solemnly. ”Anybody can see that. Cousin has money in the bank, and she's owner of a schooner, but she has no home. I expect she'd have married Reuben if he'd been anyways agreeable _to_ marry. He expected she would, sure as shootin'; lotted on it, they say. But take a man with one eye and that rollin', and snug, _and_ a bad disposition, why, it ain't no great of an outlook for a woman, even if the farm was better than it is. Anyways, she wouldn't look at him, and that's how she come here. Now here,”--he waved his hand in a circle. ”Look around you, Calvin Parks! Where is she goin' to find a home like this? for stock, or for truck, or for sightliness, there ain't its ekal in the county. There ain't its ekal in the State. Now, Cal, I'm a fair-minded man. A woman brought this farm up to what it is.

Ma done it, sir! I don't say but Sim and me done our best since we growed up, but Ma done the heft on't, and it needs a woman now. It needs a woman, Calvin, and Cousin needs a home; and I'm of the opinion that she won't get such a bad bargain, even with Simeon thrown in. There's no harm in Simeon, Cal, not a mite!”

”Not a mite!” Calvin echoed mechanically.

”Now,”--Mr. Sam drew himself up, and tapped Calvin on the shoulder. ”I want you to help me, Calvin Parks!”

Calvin growled, but a growl may mean anything. Mr. Sam took it for a.s.sent.

”That's right!” he said. ”That's it, Calvin. You talk to Cousin, and tell her about the farm, and kinder throw in a word for Sim now and then. Why, he's a real good fellow, Sim is, when he ain't a darned fool.

They'd get on fust-rate. And you talk to him, too, when she's out of the way! Tell him he needs a woman of his own, and like that. Mebbe you might drop a hint about my goin' away, if you see a good openin'; why, you're jest the one to make a match, with your pleasant ways, kind o'