Complete Works of L. Frank Baum

by L. Frank Baum

  Total outlay — 935.15

  Probable value of Lot — 200.00

  Profits — 735-15”

  The colonel finished amidst a dead silence, which was broken by a rap at the door.

  The dirty-faced messenger boy had a telegram for Mrs. Bilkins. She read it, sighed deeply, and handed it to the colonel. It ran as follows:

  “Stay where you are. The bottom may drop outen this thing an bust suthin’.

  JERRY”

  “That’s my brother,” said the landlady mournfully, “an’ his jedgement is usually good. Gents, what’d ye like fer a Sunday dinner?”

  She Dabbles in Politics and Aspires to a Great Office

  8 March 1890

  “Yes,” said the landlady, as she peppered the hash and tasted of it to see if it was right; “Yes, I’m a gettin’ some political aspersions into my head, an’ don’t see as why I shouldn’t run fer office as well as any other citizen o’ this here Yernited States.”

  “But,” said Tom, opening the tightly stopped holes in the salt shaker with a toothpick, “woman is not yet enfranchised, you know.”

  March i8go “They ain’t, hey?” retorted the landlady, glaring upon him, “I guess if Mary Etter Bones is good enough to be Vice-President o’ South Dakota, Sairy Ann Bilkins is good enough fer mayor o’ Aberdeen!”

  “What!” exclaimed the doctor, aroused from his brown study of the hash, “do you then aspire to the Mayorality?”

  “Why not?” answered the landlady, raising her eyebrows in surprise, “ain’t I as good as Ben Stearns?”

  “Undoubtedly, but — ”

  “And ain’t Major Burke promised to ‘lect me if I’m nomernated, an’ will give him the city printin’ to start his new paper, an’ — ”

  “If you’re nominated he might,” interrupted the colonel, who is a thorough politician, “but no democrat, man or woman, who works against B. S. Barrett, can hope to secure the nomination for anything.”

  “Pooh,” sneered Mrs. Bilkins, drawing herself up proudly, “I berlong to the oppersition, I does, an’ I’ve got the wimmin to back me up. I’ve a writ to Mrs. Alice Pickeler to gimme her support, and the Bugle is to be my official organ.”

  “Well, even a hand-organ is better than no organ at all,” remarked the doctor, “and I’m glad to see you so powerfully supported. Of course, so far as I’m concerned, I’ve helped support you so long that I won’t go back on you now.”

  “Nor I,” chimed in the others.

  “Thanks, feller citizens an’ boarders,” said the landlady, majestically, “all I needs now is L. C. Dennis an’ the Rhines votin’ machine to carry me through to the Mayor’s cheer.”

  “And with the new newspaper to back you, you have a brilliant career in prospect,” remarked the doctor. “I suppose the paper will be conservative?”

  “Oh yes,” replied the landlady. “The editor agrees not to send nobody awanderin’ broken hearted on the face o’ the yerth because he just fooled with a buzz-saw. An’ he agrees not ter call no mean names nor fill up his paper with bills o’ fare a week old because he can’t get news. An’ he’ll print pamphlets fer church societies at five minits notis an’ take ‘em back agin with a smilin’ face. All he asks is the city printin’ at the highest market price, an’ the reports o’ Buder’s Signal Service an’ seven subscribers to carry him through to fortune.”

  “But who are your other supporters?” asked Tom.

  “Why, there’s Tom Nolan and Jim Davis, as is both overworked, an’ are aching for some soft snaps, an’ there’s Al. Ward who wants ter supply the city pies, an’ there’s Miss Jones who says she’s liberal enough to support anything but her stockings, an’ there’s Chollie Fisher that wants me to stand by him for the treasurership, because he feels easiest when he’s a handlin’ money, an’ there’s Mat Stroupe who thinks he can beat me if he runs agin’ me, an’ there’s Billy Paulhamus who alius supports everybody to make hisself solid, an’ there’s Skip Salisbury who says he’d like to support a woman fer a little while an’ see how it feels, an’ there’s Zach Spider who says he wants to tackle something excitin’, an’ there’s C. N. Harris who says he can control his own vote an’ — lots of others!”

  “With such a backing,” said the colonel with a sigh, “you ought to win.”

  “I shall,” said the landlady confidendy, “but as it’s a long time ‘afore the caucus I believe I’ll go down town an’ buy a case o’ strawberries to do up. It ain’t quite the season, but they’re plenty in town I hear, an’ if I’m agoin’ to be mayor o’ this here berg, I won’t have no time this summer to monkey over cannin’ fruit, fer my time’ll be tuk up with water main extensions an’ lookin’ up them seven subscribers fer the new paper!”

  She Worries over Seed Wheat, and Gets Lectured by the Boarders

  15 March 1890

  “Oh, dear,” exclaimed our landlady, as she sank into a chair and gasped for breath, “I’ve a most made up my mind to give up tryin’ to be a public woman.”

  “What’s happened now?” queried the doctor, stealthily wiping his plate with his napkin before helping himself to the cutlets.

  “Why, I’m bothered to death about this seed wheat business,” she replied, growing calmer before the gaze of the sympathetic boarders.

  “You see, I knew very well that the gov’ner hadn’t appinted the proper folks to look arter it, an’ I decided that unless I took the matter inter my own hands the poor farmer’s might whistle fer their seed. So I goes out an’ sees cap. Hauser, an’ asks him what he thinks about sellin’ them ‘air warrants. An’ he says, says he, ‘missus, the tea what we grows in Injy on me an’ some other folkses plantations, beats the world.’ And so I left him an’ met Jedge Drake, an’ I says, ‘Jedge, what’ll we do about seed wheat?’ an’ he answered, sayin’, ‘what do you s’pose I know about it? What’s seed wheat got ter do with apintments?’ an’ he kissed his hand an’ left on the fust train fer Pierre. An’ then I came across Dight. McGlachlin, an’ he tole me as how there was more wheat in the elevators than would plant two such states as South Dakota. But, says he, ‘it takes money, ma’am, to git it out.’ An’ I called on the komishner of emigrants an’ he said that if some rich folks like me would put up the kerlateral that the wheat would pop out’er them elevators right inter the farmers’ hands. ‘I’d put up some securities myself,’ says he, ‘but I’m a poor man as can’t afford to run the chances.’

  “An’ Harvey Jewett said, that the club had a done their duty an’ called the convention, and decided ter issue warrants, an’ now if anybody wanted ter make them warrants sell, the rich folk could jest write their names on the back of ‘em. An’ so I come home discouraged an’ — Great heavings!” she exclaimed, “I’ve lost my weddin’ ring!”

  “Don’t get excited, ma’am,” remarked the colonel. “I think I’ve found it,” and he fished out a discolored band from the gravy.

  “There!” cried the landlady, “I’ve growd so poor worrittin’ over other people’s business, that I can’t keep even my rings on, an’ arter this I’ll jest mind my own business an’ let other people mind mine.”

  “Bravo!” yelled Tom, “now you are getting sensible. I’ve felt like home without a mother ever since you got to running over the town, and my chum Clayton Thompson got stuck on the printing business. But if you’ll look after me in the future, I’ll — I actually believe I’ll pay something on account.”

  “Hm!” said the landlady.

  “My dear Mrs. Bilkins,” remarked the doctor, “Tom is right. In a certain sense we are your family, and a woman of family should not meddle in public affairs.”

  “Hm!” said the landlady.

  “Your kind heart,” said the colonel, “leads you to meddle in affairs that should be left to the sterner sex. Now you’re a better cook than politician, or anything else, and you should devote your energies to those talents that the Lord has given you.”

  “Hm!” sniffed the landlady, as the boarders filed ou
t; “it’s the conceit o’ men as is the biggest stumblin’ block ter universal sufferin’ o’ women! But let ‘em talk. They’ll find I know my business — yes, an’ everybody else’s, too!”

  She Discusses the Disadvantages of Prohibition, and Invents a New Method of Baking Pies

  22 March 1890

  “These is terrible times!” sighed our landlady, as she brushed the dust off the butter with her finger tips and tasted the milk to see if it was sweet. “All the town is riled up as if you’d stirred ‘em with a stick like you would a hasty puddin’.”

  “Anything wrong?” queried the colonel, helping himself to the soup.

  “Everything!” declared our landlady. “If Bill Fielder had only knowed what a damage he was doin’ this town, he’d never a thunk up all them hard measures to prevent his feller-citizens from gettin’ drunk. I’ve been tradin’ a little this mornin’, an’ I went inter Scott’s store for some borax, an’ you orter heered him talk! He says he can’t sell patent medicines without a license, because they all hez alcohol in ‘em.’ I’m goin’ ter quit the town,’ sez he. So I didn’t buy the borox, as I wasn’t goin’ ter patronize anything but home instertutions, and I goes over to Lacey’s, an’ Doc he says — ‘Them prohibish fellers is pritty hard on our perfeshin, but so long as they lets us sell Soda water with a wink in it I guess we’ll pull through.’ An’ then I goes over to Narregang’s — that ain’t no druggist nor no loan agent nuther, cause he don’t belong to nary gang, — an’ he says, ‘Why ma’am, they’ll arrest a feller fer smilin’ after the fust o’ May, because it’s agin’ the law to be in good spirits!’”

  “Great Scott!” yelled the doctor.

  “Oh, it wasn’t my joke,” said the landlady, complacently.

  “It wasn’t that, Mrs. Bilkins. It was this confounded hairpin in the soup. I’ve run it twice through my tongue and broken off a front tooth.”

  “What, your new tooth?” asked Tom, sympathetically.

  The Doctor scowled upon him in silence, and the landlady proceeded briskly: —

  “But the drug fellers ain’t a patch on the grocery men fur bein’ riled. Harry Olwin is as much put out as the electric lights on a dark night, cause he can’t sell lemon extract any more. ‘Ye see, ma’am;’ sez he, ‘they might as well a took the bread and cake out o’ my family’s mouth as to perwent our a sellin’ extracts. Them extracts,’ he sez, pointin’ to a row of ‘em,’ only costs us four cents a bottle, an’ we gets 35 cents for ‘em because it’s pretty close to sell ‘em fer a quarter. Now if they’d a forbid our sellin’ sugar, who’d a kicked?”I would!’ sez I, an’ I came away. Teek Gilmore inter Beard an’ Gage’s was lookin’ as mad as the city Auditor when he gits showed up in the papers. ‘Lay in your stock o’ pickles before the fust o’ May, Mrs. Bilkins,’ yells Teek, ‘fer they’ve decided as vinegar is intoxicatin’, an’ can’t be sold without a license. What on earth can we put our spare water into when the vinegar barrel’s gone?”Try reducin’ the molasses with it,’ sez I sourcastically, an’ I left him pullin’ the hair outer Frank Beard’s head in great handfulls, he was so mad. Clayton Thompson was just sendin’ a boy down to buy Roache’s old sign that reads ‘all these goods at your own figgers,’ when I stepped in. He wanted it to put on his brandy peaches, he said, because they must be closed out ‘afore May fust.’ I don’t know what the folks will do,’ sez he with a care-worn air, ‘when they’ve got to buck agin’ the loss o’ the wheat crop and brandy-peaches at the same time!’ I ansered, ‘but perhaps you can git Frank Hagerty to take’ em off your hands, seein’ as they’re marked - ‘“

  A horrible racket coming from the direction of the kitchen, here interrupted her.

  “Fire!” shouted the boarders in unison, and followed by our landlady they all rushed into the kitchen.

  Everything there appeared to be in its usual disordered condition. Mrs. Bilkins sank panting into a chair, while the colonel slipped his revolver quietly back into his hip-pocket.

  “What could it have been?” asked Tom, as he wiped his forehead with a trembling hand and a pocket-handkerchief.

  “I know!” suddenly cried the landlady, and going to the stove she opened the oven door and drew out an alarm-clock!

  “You see,” she explained, “I had them pies a-bakin’ an’ I knew if I got talkin’

  I’d ferget all about ‘em, an’ so I just sot the alarm to let me know when they was done, — an’ forgot all about it!”

  “Mrs. Bilkins,” said the colonel, with marked disapproval, “some day you will over-reach yourself in one of these ingenious contrivances, and lose either your life, or your boarders — or both!” and followed by the others he walked angrily away.

  “I don’t care,” muttered Mrs. Bilkins, as she blew on the clock to cool it, “it were a good scheme anyway, — an’ the pies is done to a turn!”

  She Makes a Terrible Mistake and Quotes a Proverb

  29 March 1890

  Our landlady sat in the kitchen peeling some genuine green apples for pies, and as she dextrously separated the outer cuticle with the old razor that was the only visible relict of the late Mr. Bilkins, her thoughts wandered into figuring the cost of each apple and how much would go into a piece of pie and whether she could really afford to feed her boarders on such a luxury at the present rate of board. And then, glancing at the razor, she thought of the late Mr. B. and sighed as she remembered her lonely condition, till woman-like — widow-woman-like, we mean — she begun wondering when the fairy prince would come to her and awaken her into new life with a lover’s kiss, saying “Sairy Ann, loved one, you shall never keep boarders more while your Alphonso lives to work his fingers to the bone to dress you in silks and satins!” The razor lay idle upon her knee now, and our landlady wiped her eyes and nose on her apron and gazed dreamily out of the window.

  “Madam!”

  It was the colonel’s voice that aroused her. He had come to see if he couldn’t get his dinner a little earlier than usual as he was going out of town for a day, but seeing how startled she was, he controlled the natural severity of his voice, and coming to her side he added — “My dear Mrs. Bilkins, I have a proposal to make to you.”

  Undoubtedly her previous train of thought had slighdy turned our landlady’s head.

  A light of rapture shone in her eyes; the pan of apples flew right over the colonel’s head — the razor just skipping his cheek — and a large apple paring wound around his nose and buried its point in his right eye, while to cap the climax to his surprise Mrs. Bilkins threw herself with a loud scream of ecstacy into his arms.

  The colonel has been through many wars, but this was a coup-de-main for which he was wholly unprepared.

  He gave a groan and sat down abruptly upon the floor, Mrs. Bilkins falling upon his lap and retaining presence of mind enough to pin down both his arms in a warm and hearty embrace, while she stuck the knot of hair she wore on the top of her head plump into the colonel’s open mouth.

  For a moment nothing could be heard but the babble of Mrs. Bilkins’ endearing words, for the colonel was struggling for breath and buried under the weight of a good 300 lbs.

  Then the door suddenly flew open, and Tom and the doctor stood upon the threshold.

  For one instant they stood horror-stricken, and then they wickedly burst into a roar of laughter, while the one eye the colonel could see out of glared angrily over the top of Mrs. Bilkins’ head, and the landlady, impervious to interruption, murmured “My sweet, sweet colonel — I’ve a prayed for this hour to come an’ I knew all the time as you loved me as I love you an’ no knife can cut our love in-two, my own lovey dovey — ”

  “Excuse us,” said the doctor, in his gende voice. “We were unaware that a love-scene was going on here, and finding no dinner ready, we — ”

  The colonel made a superhuman effort and rolled Mrs. Bilkins from his lap; then he sprang to his feet, pulled his dripping hat out of the water barrel, and with a cry of rage that sounded like a naughty cuss-wo
rd tore out of the back door and disappeared.

  Tom attempted to assist Mrs. Bilkins to her feet, but she pushed him aside and rising unaided she cried “There, you’ve a found out our little love affair most as soon as we found it out ourselves! I don’t care fer my part but the colonel seems a little riled.”

  “He does, indeed,” said Tom.

  “May we congratulate you?” asked the doctor.

  “To be sure ye may!” answered the landlady, holding her breath to see if she couldn’t blush, “now set right down here, an’ I’ll git dinner an’ tell you all about it at the same time. Ye see this here lenten season is jest the time fer love-affairs. There ain’t no parties, an’ the boys an’ gals jest keep company, and after the season o’ Lent is gone there alius comes a season o’ keeps, when marryin’ an’ givin’ in marriage is in order. In Aberdeen a gal ain’t in style if she ain’t going ter be married after Yeaster, or ain’t got a diamond ring ter show, anyhow. I can count more’n twenty couples as is parin’ off, and the colonel and I jest thought as we’d be in style. He hain’t give me no ring yet, but,” she added reflectively, “he ain’t had a chance!”

  “I think he has gone for one now,” said Tom.

  “Well, anyhow,” said the landlady, “you can’t keep no secrets in a boardin’ house, so it’sjust as well you found it out. The colonel ain’t young, ner hansome, ner rich, an’ he owes me nine weeks board, but love is blind, they say, an’ he’s a man, anyhow, and’ll pertect me if he knows what’s good fer hisself! But there — dinner’s ready. Excuse my flustration, gentlemen, fer a perposal alius knocks a woman silly — even when she expects it!”

  The two boarders ate their meal in dismal silence. They were full of awe and horror, and there was an air of mystery about the affair which puzzled them.

  As they finished, a messenger boy strolled lazily in with a note for Mrs. Bilkins.

  “Please read it, doctor,” she asked, excitedly, “it’s from the Kernel, but I’m that flustrated I could’nt find my glasses in a week!”