CHAPTER IV.
JUDGE PITMAN--HIS EXPERIMENT IN THE BARN--A LESSON IN NATURAL HISTORY--CATCHING THE EARLY TRAIN--ONE OF THE MISERIES OF LIVING IN A VILLAGE--BALL'S LUNG EXERCISE--MR. COOLEY'S IMPERTINENCE.
My next-door neighbor upon the west is Judge Pitman. I heard his namementioned before I became acquainted with him, and I fancied thathe was either a present occupant of the bench, or else that he hadgone into retirement after spending his active life in dispensingjustice and unraveling the tangles of the law. But it appears that hehas never occupied a judicial position, and that his title is purelycomplimentary, having no relation whatever to the nature of his pursuitseither in the past or in the present. The judge, indeed, is merely theowner of a couple of steam-tugs and one or two wood sloops which plyupon the river and upon Chesapeake Bay. He spends most of his timeat home, living comfortably upon the receipts of a business which isconducted by his hired men, and perhaps also upon the interest of a fewgood investments in this and other places.
A very brief acquaintance with the judge suffices to convince any onethat he has never presided in court. He is a rough, uneducated man, withsmall respect for grammar, an irrepressible tendency to distort thelanguage, and very little information concerning subjects which are notmade familiar by the occurrences of every-day life. But he is hearty,genial, sincere and honest, and I very soon learned to like him and tofind amusement in his quaint simplicity.
My first interview with the judge was somewhat remarkable. I came homeearly one afternoon for the purpose of training some roses and clematisagainst my fence. While I was busily engaged with the work, the judge,who had been digging potatoes in his garden, stuck his spade in theearth and came to the fence. After looking at me in silence for a fewmoments, he observed,
"Fine day, cap!"
The judge has the habit of conferring titles promiscuously and withoutprovocation, particularly upon strangers. To call me "cap." was hismethod of expressing a desire for sociability.
"It _is_ a beautiful day," I observed, "but the country needs rain."
"It never makes no difference to me," replied the judge, "what kinderweather there is; I'm allers satisfied. 'Twon't rain no sooner forwishin' for it."
As there was no possibility of our having a controversy upon this point,I merely replied, "That is true."
"How's yer pertaters comin' on?" inquired the judge.
"Very well, I believe. They're a little late, but they appear to bethriving."
"Mine's doin' first rate," returned the judge. "I guannered them in thespring, and I've bin a-hoein' at 'em and keepin' the weeds down puttystiddy ever since. Mons'ous sight o' labor growin' good pertaters, cap."
"I should think so," I rejoined, "although I haven't had much practicalexperience in that direction thus far."
"Cap.," observed the judge, after a brief interval of silence, "you'reone of them fellers that writes for the papers and magazines, a'n'tyou?"
"Yes, I sometimes do work of that kind."
"Well, see here: I've got somethin' on my mind that's bin a-botherin' methe wust kind for a week and more. You've read the 'Atlantic Monthly,'haven't you?"
"Yes."
"Well, my daughter bought one of 'em, and I was a-readin' it the othernight, when I saw it stated that guanner could be influenced by music,and that Professor Brown had made some git up and come to him when heplayed a tune on the pianner."
I remembered, as the judge spoke, that the magazine in question didcontain a paragraph to the effect that the _iguana_ was susceptible ofsuch influence, and that Mrs. Brown had succeeded in taming one of theseanimals, so that it would run to her at the sound of music. But Ipermitted Mr. Pitman to continue without interruption.
"Of course," said he, "I never really believed no such nonsense asthat, but it struck me as kinder sing'lar, and I thought I'd give theold thing a trial, anyhow. So I got down my fiddle and went to the barn,and put a bag of guanner in the middle of the floor and begun to rakeout a tune. First I played 'A Life on the Ocean Wave and a Home on theRollin' Deep' three or four times; and there that guanner sot, just as Iexpected 'twould. Then I begun agin and sawed out a lot o' variations,but still she didn't budge. Then I put on a fresh spurt and jammed ina passel o' extra sharps and flats and exercises; and I played thattune backward and sideways and cat-a-cornered. And I stirred in somescales, and mixed the tune up with Old Hundred and Mary Blaine and someSunday-school songs, until I nearly fiddled my shirt off, and nary timedid that guanner bag git up off o' that floor. I knowed it wouldn't. Iknowed that feller wa'n't tellin' the truth. But, cap., don't it strikeyou that a man who'd lie like that ought to have somethin' done to him?It 'pears to me 's if a month or two in jail'd do that feller good."
The lesson in natural history which I proceeded to give to the judgeneed not be repeated here. He acknowledged that the laugh was fairlyagainst him, and ended his affirmation of his new-born faith in theintegrity of the Atlantic Monthly by inviting me to climb over the fenceand taste some of his Bartlett pears. The judge and I have been steadyfriends ever since.
I find that one of the most serious objections to living out of townlies in the difficulty experienced in catching the early morning trainby which I must reach the city and my business. It is by no means apleasant matter, under any circumstances, to have one's movementsregulated by a timetable and to be obliged to rise to breakfast and toleave home at a certain hour, no matter how strong the temptation todelay may be. But sometimes the horrible punctuality of the train isproductive of absolute suffering. For instance: I look at my watch whenI get out of bed and find that I have apparently plenty of time, so Idress leisurely, and sit down to the morning meal in a frame of mindwhich is calm and serene. Just as I crack my first egg I hear the downtrain from Wilmington. I start in alarm; and taking out my watch, Icompare it with the clock and find that it is eleven minutes slow, andthat I have only five minutes left in which to get to the depot.
I endeavor to scoop the egg from the shell, but it burns my fingers, theskin is tough, and after struggling with it for a moment, it mashes intoa hopeless mess. I drop it in disgust and seize a roll, while I scald mytongue with a quick mouthful of coffee. Then I place the roll in mymouth while my wife hands me my satchel and tells me she thinks shehears the whistle. I plunge madly around looking for my umbrella, thenI kiss the family good-bye as well as I can with a mouth full of roll,and dash toward the door.
Just as I get to the gate, I find that I have forgotten my dusterand the bundle my wife wanted me to take up to the city to her aunt.Charging back, I snatch them up and tear down the gravel-walk in afrenzy. I do not like to run through the village: it is undignified andit attracts attention; but I walk furiously. I go faster and faster as Iget away from the main street. When half the distance is accomplished, Iactually do hear the whistle; there can be no doubt about it this time.I long to run, but I know that if I do I will excite that abominablespeckled dog sitting by the sidewalk a little distance ahead of me. ThenI really see the train coming around the curve close by the depot, andI feel that I _must_ make better time; and I do. The dog immediatelymanifests an interest in my movements. He tears after me, and isspeedily joined by five or six other dogs, which frolic about my legsand bark furiously. Sundry small boys, as I go plunging past, contributeto the excitement by whistling with their fingers, and the men who areat work upon the new meeting-house stop to look at me and exchangejocular remarks with each other. I do feel ridiculous; but I must catchthat train at all hazards.
I become desperate when I have to slacken my pace until two or threewomen who are standing upon the sidewalk, discussing the infamous priceof butter, scatter to let me pass. I arrive within a few yards of thestation with my duster flying in the wind, with my coat tails in ahorizontal position, and with the speckled dog nipping my heels, just asthe train begins to move. I put on extra pressure, resolving to get thetrain or perish, and I reach it just as the last car is going by. Iseize the hand-rail; I am jerked violently around, but finally, afte
r adesperate effort, I get upon the step with my knees, and am hauled inby the brakeman, hot, dusty and mad, with my trousers torn across theknees, my legs bruised and three ribs of my umbrella broken.
Just as I reach a comfortable seat in the car, the train stops, and thenbacks up on the siding, where it remains for half an hour while theengineer repairs a dislocated valve. The anger which burns in my bosomas I reflect upon what now is proved to have been the folly of thatrace is increased as I look out of the window and observe the speckleddog engaged with his companions in an altercation over a bone. A manwho permits his dog to roam about the streets nipping the legs of everyone who happens to go at a more rapid gait than a walk, is unfit forassociation with civilized beings. He ought to be placed on a desertisland in mid-ocean, and be compelled to stay there.
This will do as a picture of the experience of one morning--onemelancholy morning. Of course it is exceptional. Rather than endure suchagony of mind and discomfort of body frequently, I would move back tothe city, and abandon for ever my little paradise by the Delaware.
I hardly think I shall get along so well with my neighbor on the otherside, Cooley, as I do with Pitman. He is not only exceedinglyill-natured, but he inclines to be impertinent. Several times he hasvolunteered advice respecting the management of my garden and grounds,and has displayed a disposition to be somewhat sarcastic when his plansdid not meet with my approval. I contrived, however, to avoid a breachof our amicable relations until the other day, when his conduct becameabsolutely unendurable.
I observed in the last number of Ball's _Journal of Health_ somesuggestions concerning a good method of exercising the lungs andexpanding the chest. They were to this effect:
"Step out into the purest air you can find; stand perfectly erect, with the head up and the shoulders back, and then, fixing the lips as though you were going to whistle, draw the air, not through the nostrils, but through the lips, into the lungs. When the chest is about half full, gradually raise the arms, keeping them extended with the palms of the hands down, as you suck in the air, so as to bring them over the head just as the lungs are quite full. Then drop the thumbs inward, and after gently forcing the arms backward and the chest open, reverse the process by which you draw your breath till the lungs are empty. This process should be repeated three or four times immediately after bathing, and also several times through the day."
This seemed reasonable, and I determined to give it a trial. For thatpurpose I went out into the yard; and pinning the directions to a tree,I stood in front of them where I could see them. Just as I began, Cooleycame out; and perceiving me, he placed his elbows upon the fence, restedhis chin upon his arms and watched me with a very peculiar smile uponhis face. I was exceedingly annoyed and somewhat embarrassed, but I wasdetermined that he should not have the gratification of driving me awayfrom my own ground. I made up my mind that I would continue the exercisewithout appearing to notice him. In a few moments, however, he remarked:
"Training for a prize-fight, Adeler?"
I made no reply, but continued the exercise. When I had gone through theprogramme once, I began again. As I arrived at that portion of it wherethe instructions direct the arrangement of the lips, Mr. Cooley, by thistime somewhat incensed at my silence, observed,
"Whistle us a tune, Adeler. Give us something lively!"
As I paid no attention to this invitation, Cooley embraced theopportunity afforded by the upward motion of my arms, in accordance withthe directions, to ask me if I was going to dive, and to offer to bringme out a tub in case I cherished such a design.
Then I completed the exercise and went into the house without givingCooley any reason to suppose that I was aware of his presence. The nextday I performed the ceremony at the same place, at the same hour. On thethird day Cooley evidently expected me, for as soon as I appeared hecame up to the fence and assumed his old position. He had with him acouple of friends, whom he must have summoned for the express purpose oftormenting me. When I had gone through the movements once, Cooley said:
"See here, Adeler, I don't want to do you any harm, but let me adviseyou as a friend to go to an asylum. I have known much worse cases thanyours to be cured. It isn't kind to your family for you to remain atlarge. You're afflicted with only a mild form now; but if you don't dosomething, you'll have a violent paroxysm some day, and smash things.Now, take my advice, and put yourself under treatment."
Silence upon my part.
"How would you take it now," inquired Cooley, in a tone indicative ofyearning tenderness, "if I should get over the fence and chain you tothe pump while I go for the doctor? I really think you are gettingdangerous."
"Mr. Cooley," I said, "I wish you would attend to your own business.I do not wish to quarrel with you, sir, but I will not have anyinterference on your part with my affairs. If it will make you anyhappier to learn what I am doing, I will tell you, seeing that you areso much interested in the matter, that I am exercising, under medicaldirection, for the benefit of my lungs."
"Exercising for the benefit of his lungs!" moaned Cooley. "His mind isentirely gone."
"Yes, sir," I said, angrily, "I am exercising for the benefit of mylungs, according to the directions of Dr. Ball, and I will thank you tokeep your tongue quiet about it."
"He has them awfully bad," exclaimed Cooley, with a pathetic look."There is no such man as Dr. Ball, you know," he remarked, in aconfidential tone, to one of his companions.
"I wish you distinctly to understand that I will not tolerate thisimpertinence much longer, sir," I exclaimed, indignantly. "What righthave you to interfere with me upon my own ground, you ruffian?"
"His intellect's completely shattered," said Cooley, with a mournfulshake of his head, to his companions. "Poor Mrs. Adeler! It will be aterrible blow for her and for the children. My heart bleeds for them."
"Mr. Cooley," I said, "I want no more of this. I shall discontinue Dr.Ball's exercise at this place for the present, but I will tell youbefore I go that I consider you an insolent, unendurable idiot, and Iwill repay you some day or other for your outrageous behavior to me."
"Sad, sad, indeed!" said Cooley to his friends. "Strange how he clingsto that fancy about a man named Ball, isn't it?"
One of Cooley's companions observed that the deranged were apt to getsuch notions in their heads, and he supplemented this statement with theremark, "This is a very interesting case--very."
Then I went into the house, and from the window saw Cooley and hiscompanions walk away laughing. Not even the unpardonable insolence ofCooley can disguise the fact that the affair has a certain comic aspect;and when I became calmer, I confess that I appreciated this phase of theoccurrence with some keenness, even though I happened to occupy anexceedingly unpleasant position as the victim of the joke. But I shallbe even with Cooley for this. I will devise a scheme for tormenting himwhich will cause him to rue the day that he interfered with my pulmonarygymnastics. Dr. Ball's recipe, however, I think I will toss into thefire. I will expand my lungs by learning to sing or to play upon theflute. My family can then participate in my enjoyment. A married man hasno right to be selfish in his pleasures.
Out of the Hurly-Burly; Or, Life in an Odd Corner Page 7
