CHAPTER VI. MR. MATTHEWS.
Aunt Corinne realizing it was a man, rushed to the top of the stepsand hid her eyes behind the door. She knew her mother could deal withhim, and, if he offered any harm, pour coals of fire upon his head ina literal sense. But she did not feel able to stand by. Robert, onthe other hand, seeing no red nightcap on the head thrust up towardthem, supported his grandmother strongly, and even helped to pull theman up-stairs.
One touch of his soft, foolish body was enough to convince any onethat he was a harmless creature. His foot was sprained.
Robert carried a backless chair and set it before the fire, and onthis the limping man was placed. Grandma Padgett emptied her coals onthe hearth and surveyed him. He had a red face and bashful eyes, andwhile the top of his head was quite bald, he had a half-circle offuzz extending around his face from ear to ear. He wore a roundaboutand trousers, and shoes with copper toes. His hands were fat anddimpled as well as freckled. Altogether, he had the appearance of ahugely overgrown boy, ducking his head shyly while Grandma Padgettlooked at him.
"For pity sake!" said Grandma Padgett. "What ails the creature?What's your name, and who are you?"
At that the man chanted off in a nasal sing-song, as if he wereaccustomed to repeating his rhyme:
J. D. Matthews is my name, Ohio-r is my nation, Mud Creek is my dwellin' place, And glory is my expectation.
"Yes," said Grandma Padgett, removing her glasses, as she did whenvery much puzzled.
Corinne, in a distant corner of the lighted room, began to laughaloud, and after looking towards her, the man laughed also, as ifthey two were enjoying a joke upon the mother.
"Well, it may be funny, but you gave us enough of a scare with yourgruntin' and your groanin'," said Grandma Padgett severely.
J. D. Matthews reminded of his recent tribulations, took up one ofhis feet and began to groan over it again. He was as shapeless andclumsy as a bear, and this motion seemed not unlike the tiltings of abear forced to dance.
"There you go," said Grandma Padgett. "Can't you tell how you camein the cellar, and what hurt you?"
Mr. Matthews piped out readily, as if he had packed the stanza intoshape between the groans of his underground sojourn:
To the cellar for fuel I did go, And there I met my overthrow; I lost my footing and my candle, And grazed my shin and sprained my ankle.
"The man must be a poet," pronounced Grandma Padgett with contempt."He has to say everything in rhyme."
Chanted Mr. Matthews:
I was not born in a good time, I cannot speak except in rhyme.
"Ain't he funny?" said Bobaday, rubbing his own knees with enjoyment.
"He's very daft," said the grandmother. "And what to do for him Idon't know. We've nothing to eat ourselves. I might wet his foot andtie it up."
Mr. Matthews looked at her smilingly while he recited:
I have a cart that does contain A pana_seer_ for ev'_ry_ pain. There's coffee, also there is _chee_, Sugar and cakes, bread and hone-ee. I have parch corn and liniment, Which causes me to feel content. There is some half a dozen kittles To serve me when I cook my vittles. Butter and eggs I do deal in; To go without would be a sin. When I sit down to cook my meals, I know how good a king feels.
"Well, if you had your cart handy it would be worth while," saidGrandma Padgett indulgently. "But talkin' of such things when thechildren are hungry only aggravates a body more."
Producing a key from his roundabout pocket, Mr. Matthews lifted hisvoice and actually sung:
J. D. Matthews' cart stands at your door. Lady, will you step out and see my store? I've cally-co and Irish table linen, Domestic gingham and the best o' flannen. I take eggs and butter for these treasures, I never cheat, but give good measures.
"Let me see if there is a cart," begged Bobaday, reaching for thekey which his grandmother reluctantly received.
He then went to the front door and groped in the weeds. The hand-cartwas there, and all of Mr. Matthews' statements were found to betrue. He had plenty of provisions, as well as a small stock of drygoods and patent medicines, snugly packed in the vehicle which he wasin the habit of pushing before him. There were even candles. GrandmaPadgett lighted one, and stuck it in an empty liniment bottle. Thenshe dressed the silly pedler's ankle, and put an abundant supper onthe fire to cook in his various kettles; the pedler smiling with purejoy all the time to find himself the centre of such a family party.
Bobaday and Corinne came up, and stood leaning against the ends ofthe mantel. No poached eggs and toast ever looked so nice; no honeyever had such melting yellow comb; no tea smelled so delicious; noginger cakes had such a rich moistness. They sat on the carriagecushions and ate their supper with Grandma Padgett. It was placed onthe side of an empty box, between them and the pedlerman. He dividedhis attention betwixt eating and chanting rhymes, interspersing bothwith furtive laughs, into which he tried to draw the children.Grandma Padgett overawed him; but he evidently felt on a level withaunt Corinne and her nephew. In his foolish red face there struggleda recollection of having gone fishing, or played marbles, or huntedwild flowers with these children or children like them. He nodded andtwinkled his eyes at them, and they laughed at whatever he did. Hisankle was so relieved by a magic liniment, that he felt able tohobble around the house when Grandma Padgett explored it, repeatingunder his breath the burst he indulged in when she arrayed the supperon the box:
O, I went to a friend's house, The friend says, 'Come in, Have a hot cup of coffee; And how have you been?'
Grandma Padgett said she could not sleep until she knew what othercreatures were hidden in the house.
They all ascended the enclosed staircase, and searched echoing dustyrooms where rats or mice whisked out of sight at their approach.
"This is a funny kind of an addition to a tavern," remarked the headof the party. "No beds: no anything. We'll build a fire in this upperfireplace, and bring the cushions and shawls up, and see if we canget a wink of sleep. It ain't a cold night, and we're dry now. Youcan sleep by the fireplace down-stairs," she said to the pedler, "andI'll settle with you for our breakfast and supper before we leave inthe morning. It's been a providence that you were in the house."
Mr. Matthews smiled deferentially, and appeared to be pondering anew rhyme about Grandma Padgett. But the subject was so weighty itkept him shaking his head.
They came down-stairs for fuel and coals, and she requested thepedler to take possession of the lower room and make himselfcomfortable, but not to set the house on fire.
"What shall we give him to sleep on?" pondered the grandmother. "Ican't spare things from the children; it won't do to let him sleep onthe floor."
"I have a cart, it has been said, Which serves me both for cupboard and bed,"
chanted Mr. Matthews.
"Well, that's a good thing," said Grandma Padgett. "If you couldpull a whole furnished house out of that cart 'twouldn't surprise me."
The pedler opened the door and dragged his cart in over the lowsill. They then bolted the door with such rusty fastenings asremained to it.
As soon as he felt the familiar handle on his palms, J. D. Matthewsforgot that his ankle had been twisted. He was again upon the road,as free as the small wild creatures that whisked along the fence.Grandma Padgett's grown-up strength of mind failed to restrain himfrom acting the horse. He neighed, and rattled the cart wildly overthe empty room. Now he ran away and pretended to kick everything topieces; and now he put himself up at a manger, and ground his feed.He broke out of his stable and careened wildly around a pasture,refusing to be hitched, and expressing his contempt for the cart bykicking up at it.
"I guess your sprain wasn't as bad as you let on," observed GrandmaPadgett.
The observation, or a twinge, reminded Mr. Matthews to doublehimself down and groan again.
With painful limps, and Robert Day's assistance, he got the cartbefore the fireplace. It looked like a narrow, high green box onwheels.
The pedler blocked the wheels behind, and propped the handlelevel. Then he crept with great contentment to the top, and stretchedhimself to sleep.
"He's a kind of a fowl of the air," said Grandma Padgett.
"Oh, but I hope he's going our road!" said Bobaday, as they re-ascendedthe stairs. "He's more fun than a drove of turkeys!"
"And I'm not a bit afraid of him," said aunt Corinne. "He ain't likethe old man with a bag on his back."
But J. D. Matthews was going in the opposite direction.
Before Grandma Padgett had completed her brief toilet next morning,and while the daylight was yet uncertain, the Dutch landlord knockedat the outer door for his fee. He seemed not at all surprised atfinding the pedler lodging there, but told him to stop at the tavernand trade with the vrow.
"And a safe time the poor simple soul will have," said GrandmaPadgett, making her spectacles glitter at the landlord, "gettin'through the creek that nigh drowned us. I suppose, _you_ have aford that you don't keep for movers."
"Oh, yah!" said the landlord. "Te fort ist goot."
"How dared you send a woman and two children to such an empty,miserable shell as this?"
J. D. MATTHEWS RUNS AWAY.]
"I don't keep moofers to mine tafern," said the landlord, puttinghis abundant charge into his pocket. "Chay-Te, he always stops here.He coes all ofer te countries, Chay-Te toes. His headt ist pat."
"But his heart is good," said the grandmother. "And that will countup more to his credit than if he was an extortioner, and ill-treatedthe stranger within his gate."
"Oh, Chay-Te ist a goot feller!" said the Dutch landlordcomfortably, untouched by any reflections on his own conduct.
Grandma Padgett could not feel placid in her mind until the weedsand hill hid him from sight.
Mr. Matthews arose so sound from his night's slumber, that he wasable after pumping a prodigious lot of water over himself, andblowing with enjoyment, to help her get the breakfast, and put thekettles in travelling order afterwards. He had a great manyhousewifely ways, and his tidiness was a satisfaction to GrandmaPadgett. The breakfast was excellent, but Corinne and Bobaday on oneside of the box, and J. D. Matthews on the other, exchanged glancesof regret at parting. He helped Robert put the horses to thecarriage, making blunders at every stage of the hitching up.
They all came out of the Susan House, and he pushed his cart intothe road.
"I almost hate to leave it," said aunt Corinne, "because we did havea good time after we were scared so bad."
"Seems as if a body always hates to leave a place," remarkedBobaday. "The next people that come along will never know we livedhere one night. But _we'll_ always remember it."
Grandma Padgett before entering the carriage, was trying to make thepedler take pay for the food her family ate. He smiled at herdeferentially, but backed away with his cart.
"What a man this is!" she exclaimed impatiently. "We owe you for twomeals' vittles."
"I have some half a dozen kittles," murmured Mr. Matthews.
"But won't you take the money? The landlord was keen enough for his."
The pedler had got his rhyme about Grandma Padgett completed. Heleft her, still stretching her hand out, and rattled his cart up tothe children who were leaning from the carriage towards him.
"She is a lady of renown," chanted J. D. Matthews, indicating theirgrandmother.
She makes good butter by the pound, Her hand is kind, so is her tongue; But when she comes I want to run!
He accordingly ran, rattling the cart like a hailstorm before him,downhill; and out of their sight.
"Ah, there he goes!" sighed aunt Corinne, "and he hardly limps abit. I hope we'll see him again some time."
"I might 'a forced the money into his pocket," reflected GrandmaPadgett, as she took up the lines. "But I'd rather feel in debt tothat kind, simple soul than to many another. Why didn't we ask him ifhe saw Zene's wagon up the road? These poor horses want oats. They'llbe glad to sight the white cover once more."
"I would almost rather have him come along," decided Robert Day,"than to find the wagon. For he could make a camp anywhere, and speakhis poetry all the time. What fun he must have if he wants to stay inthe woods all night. I expect if he wanted to hide he could creepinto that cart and stretch out, with his face where he could smellthe honey and ginger cakes. I'd like to have a cart and travel likethat. Are we going on to the 'pike again, Grandma?"
"Not till we find Zene," she replied, driving resolutely forward onthe strange road.
Old Caravan Days Page 6
