Part II.
WAKING.
"Good mornin', sir; can I sell you anything this mornin'?"
It was a strong, clear voice that broke rudely in upon Uncle Pinker'smorning meditations as he sat in the doorway (the same setting thathad framed Narcissa yesterday, but how different a picture!), smokinghis short black pipe.
"Can I sell you anything?" repeated the voice, with an imperiousintonation. Uncle Pinker looked up. The sound was a mere murmur in hisears; but when he saw the figure before him, he recognized it for onehe had sometimes seen on the road, and knew instinctively what waswanted. "Ga-a-ah!" said Uncle Pinker.
This remark was a favorite one of the old gentleman's, and though noone knew its precise derivation, there was no doubt of its being thequintessence of scornful refusal. He used it constantly, but it neverhad such bitter force as when he was asked to spend money. "Ga-a-ah!"said Uncle Pinker again.
"What might you mean by that?" asked the newcomer, with some asperity."That ain't no form of salutation ever I heard yet. Haven't you acivil tongue to use, old gentleman? You're ancient enough to havelearned manners, if you'll excuse me sayin' so."
The old man snarled again. "I'm stone deef!" he said. "I don't hearnothin' you say, nor yet I don't want to hear. You needn't waste notime, fur as I'm concerned."
"Stone deef, be you?" returned the pedlar. "Well, that has itscompensations, too. You wouldn't buy anything if you had the hearin'of ten, and now I can have the pleasure of tellin' you what Ithink of you. You skinny, starved old weasel, you're about thewickedest-lookin' piece I ever set eyes on. Real old screw, you are,if ever I saw one. Pity your folks, if you've got any; more likelyyou've starved 'em all off, though, and are skeered of dyin' yourself,fear of havin' another funeral to pay for. The Lord leaves folks likeyou for a warnin' to others, understand?--set up, kind of, to show howugly a critter can be when he tries. Oh, you needn't snarl at me. I'menjoyin' myself real well, I tell you. There's other ways to have agood time besides sellin', if it is my trade. Guess I'll set down aspell, uncle, sence you _are_ so pressin'."
Uncle Pinker was almost foaming with rage by this time. He could hearno distinct words, but the insulting nature of the stranger's speechwas evident from look and gesture. He was just wondering whether hisstrength would suffice to throw himself on the intruder, when a newfigure appeared on the scene,--Narcissa, who had been busy in the backkitchen, and catching some high note of the stranger's scornfulspeech, now came hurrying out to see what was the matter.
She found Uncle Pinker quivering in his chair, his lean, veined handsclutching the arms, his little red eyes starting from his head withimpotent fury; and sitting on the doorstep, looking up into his facewith a smile of calm amusement, was the strangest figure Narcissa hadever seen.
A person of middle age, with strongly marked features, and acountenance of keen intelligence, but dressed in a singular manner. Asuit of brown cloth, rather worn, but well-brushed and neat; loosetrousers, and an odd, long-skirted coat, reaching to the knees, bothcoat and trousers trimmed with rows of narrow black-velvet ribbon. Theperson's hair was cropped short; the person's head was surmounted by acurious structure, half cap, half helmet, like that worn by MissDeborah in "Cranford," only of far humbler materials. Beside theperson, on the doorstep, lay a bag, of the kind affected by pedlars,lank and shiny, and particularly unattractive in appearance.
Such was the individual at whom Narcissa White was now staring witheyes very wide open, her stare being returned by a quizzical gaze,half smiling, and wholly shrewd and observant.
"Mornin', young lady," said the strong, clear voice. "Wonderin' whatI be, are ye? fish or flesh, or red herrin', or what, hey? Well, I'llput you out of your misery. I'm a woman, that's what I am; the folkscalls me Bloomer Joe. Now, then, do you want to buy anything of me?"
Here her tone changed, and her voice rose and fell in a kind of chant,dwelling with dramatic emphasis on a telling phrase here and there.
"Buy any lace, threads, or needles, pins--_or_--essences? Here's alooking-glass to see your face in--prettiest face I've seen along theroad! (I tell that to every girl I see, and most of 'em believe it;but you ain't that kind, so you shall have the joke instead.) Realcelluloid ivory combs, fit for the President's wife, sure enough. Goldbeads, stockin'-supporters, teeth-brushes,--_and_--stickin'-plaster."
Here she dropped back into a conversational tone, opening her bag asshe did so, and drawing forth some of its treasures.
"Just look at this lace, young lady! strong enough to hang yourselfwith, if you was feelin' that way, or to hang the old gentleman here,if you was feelin' another. I know which way I'd feel, quick enough.Not your father, is he?" she added, seeing a look of distress inNarcissa's eyes.
"Oh, no," said Narcissa, speaking for the first time. "But--he's myuncle,--at least, my father's uncle; and I--guess you'd better nottalk so, please."
"All right," said the stranger. "I won't, not if it is any trouble toyou. It would be meat and potatoes and apple-pie for me, if he was myuncle, to hear him get his rights for once in a way; but I see you'reone of the soft-hearted ones. Want any salve? Here's a kind that willcure corns, bunions, rheumatism, croup, sore-throat, backache,horse-ail, and colic; cure most anything except a broken heart, andwon't do a mite of harm to that. But you don't need any salve, and theold gentleman, he's past it. Well, then, here's ribbons, all colors ofthe rainbow,--red, yeller, blue, see? handsome they are, and cheap asgood counsel. Aha! you'd like to see them, hey?"
Narcissa had indeed changed color at sight of the bright ribbons, andshe now gave an anxious glance at Uncle Pinker, who was still fumingand snorting in his chair.
"You, Narcissy White, send this critter away, can't ye?" he snarled;"or else go into the house yourself, and go to work, not stand foolin'here, with the work all on the floor. Go 'long, d' ye hear? Thiswoman, or feller, or whatever she calls herself, can talk till she'shoarse; she won't hurt me, nor she won't get nothin' out of me."
"Could I get a drink of water, do you s'pose?" the pedlar askedquietly, paying no attention to the angry old man. "Needn't trouble tobring it out; I'll go right into the house with you, if you've noobjections."
She followed Narcissa into the house before the latter could make anyremonstrance, and shut the door after her.
"He don't reelly disturb me," she said, "not a mite; but we can tradebetter in here. Let me try some of the ribbons on your hair. I don'toften see such hair as this on my tramps, and that's no compliment,but the plain truth."
"Oh!" cried Narcissa, in distress. "You're real kind, but pleasedon't. I haven't got any money to buy things with, and I couldn't takeyour time for nothing. They are handsome, ain't they? Oh, that yellowis just elegant, isn't it? It's like the buttons; I mean like thetansy blossoms. I thank you for showin' them to me, I'm sure, but itain't any use for you to."
"Don't he pay you for workin' here?" asked the pedlar, with a sharpglance.
"Yes, he does pay me," Narcissa answered,--"a dollar and a half aweek. But--but I don't get it very reg'lar, sometimes, and I'm savingup to buy me a dress. I need one bad, to wear to meetin'."
The pedlar frowned. It was against her principles to leave any housewhere she knew there was money, without selling at least a box ofsalve; but this seemed a hard case.
"A dollar and a half a week!" she muttered scornfully. "The oldcaraway seed! he'd better go and live in Rome, and be done with it.He'll find plenty of company there."
Narcissa looked up with wide-open eyes.
"Why do you say that?" she asked.
"Because Rome is the skinniest place on this round earth," was thereply; "and I think 'twould suit your uncle down to the ground."
Still the girl gazed. "I guess you're mistaken," she said quietly. "Iguess you never was there, was you?"
"Never till yesterday," replied the woman, "and never want to be thereagain. You see, this isn't my own country at all, as you may say. Ibelong in another part of the State, and most generally keep to my ownbeat, havi
n' my regular customers, understand? and goin' round amongst'em. But oncet in a while the fancy takes me to roam a little, and seeother parts; and so I come round through Damascus and Solon, andpassed through Rome yesterday."
"Oh!" cried Narcissa, breathlessly. "You did? do tell me!
Narcissa, or the Road to Rome; In Verona Page 4
