The Wooing of Calvin Parks Part 17

"You might shet the other too, if you don't mind!" he said. "Thank ye!

Have you seen Simeon this mornin', Calvin?"

"Not yet," said Calvin. "I come straight in the front door and in here.

What's the matter? Ain't he all right?"

"Simeon is failin'!" replied Mr. Sam. "He's failin' right along, Calvin.

I expect this is the last Christmas he'll see on earth. I--I was down street yesterday," he added, after a solemn pause, "and it occurred to me he hadn't had a new pair of slippers for a dog's age. I thought I'd get a pair, and mebbe you'd give 'em to him."

"Mebbe I'd stand on my head!" retorted Calvin. "Give 'em to him yourself, you old catnip!"

"No! no, Calvin! no! no! I'd ruther you would!" said Mr. Sam anxiously.

"I'd take it real friendly if you would, sir!"

"Well, we'll see!" said Calvin. "h.e.l.lo! dressed up for Christmas, be ye?"

Mr. Sam looked down in some embarra.s.sment. His red flannel waistcoat was replaced by a black one.

"We never made so much of Christmas as some," he said; "but yet Ma allers had us dress up for Christmas dinner, and I thought this seemed a mite more dress, you understand, Calvin. What say?"

"Looks first-rate!" said Calvin cheerfully. "You don't look a mite worse than you did before, as I see. Now I guess I'll step in and pa.s.s the time of day with Sim."

"Hold on jest a minute!" said Mr. Sam anxiously. "Hold on jest a half a minute, Cal! That ain't all I was wishful to say to you. Have you--I would say--have you approached that subject we was speakin' of a while back, to Cousin?"

"What subject?" said Calvin Parks doggedly.

"Don't be cantankerous, Calvin! now don't!" said Mr. Sam. "It's Christmas Day. The subject of matrimony, you know."

"I have!" said Calvin. "She won't look at him! She wouldn't look at him if the only other man in the world was Job Toothaker's scarecrow, that scared the seeds under ground so they never came up. There's your answer!"

"Dear me sirs!" cried Mr. Sam, wringing his hands. "Dear me sirs! I don't know what's goin' to become of us, Calvin, I reelly don't!"

"Well!" said Calvin; "I guess likely you'll werry through the day, Sam.

I know what's goin' to become of me; I'm goin' in to see Sim."

"Take the slippers, won't ye, Calvin?" cried Mr. Sam. "Tell him to wear 'em and save his boots. He's allers ben terrible hard on shoe-leather, Simeon has."

Calvin took the slippers with a grunt, and went into the next room, closing the door after him.

"Merry Christmas!" he cried. "How are you, Sim?"

"I'm obliged to you, Calvin; I am slim!" replied Mr. Sim. "I am unusual slim, sir. Take a seat, won't you?"

"I said Merry Christmas!" Calvin remarked gruffly. "Can't you speak up in the way of the season? Come, buck up, old timothy-gra.s.s! Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas!" echoed Mr. Sim meekly; "though if your laigs was as bad as mine, Calvin, you might think different. If I get through this winter--what you got there?"

"Slippers!" said Calvin. "Christmas present from Sam. Wants you to wear 'em and save shoe-leather."

"The failin's of Sam'l's mind," said Mr. Sim gravely, "are growin' on him ekal to those of his body. Shoe-leather! when I ain't stepped foot outside the door since Ma died. But they are handsome, certin; you may thank him for me, Calvin."

"May!" said Calvin. "That's a sweet privilege, no two ways about that.

h.e.l.lo! what in Tunkett--" he stopped, abruptly, staring. "Splice my halyards if you haven't got a red one!" Mr. Sim glanced down with shy pride at his waistcoat.

"Christmas Day, you know, Calvin!" he said. "We allers made some little change in our dress, sir, for Christmas dinner. I thought 'twould please Ma, and Cousin, and--and the other one, too!" he added, with a furtive glance toward the door.

"Well, I am blowed!" said Calvin Parks plaintively. "I certinly am this time. You boys is too much for me."

Mr. Sim coughed modestly, and cast another coy glance at the red waistcoat. "How is poor Sam'l this mornin', Calvin?" he asked mournfully. "Do you find him changed much of any?"

"I do not!" said Calvin. "He's just about as handsome, and just about as takin' as he was last time, fur as I see."

"Ah!" sighed Mr. Sim. "You don't see below the surface, Cal."

"Nor don't wish to!" retorted Calvin. "That's quite sufficient for me."

"I've got the feelin' in my bones," Mr. Sim went on, "that somethin' is goin' to happen to Sam'l, Calvin. He's that reckless, sir, I look 'most any day to see him brought home a mangled remain. Call it a warnin', or what you will, I believe it's comin'. I hear him cuttin' round them corners, and res.h.i.+n' in and out the yard with them wild hosses,--"

"Wild hosses!" repeated Calvin Parks. "Sim Sill, you feel in your pants pocket, won't you, and see if you can't scare up some wits, just a mite.

Old John is thirty if he's a day, and the old hoss of all--well, n.o.body knows how old he is, beyond that he'll never see forty again. The mare has been here ever since I can remember, or pretty nigh, and your Ma bought the young colt before ever I went to sea. Now talk about wild hosses!"

"It ain't their age, Cal, it's their natur'!" responded Mr. Sim with dignity. "That mare, sir, has never ben stiddy, nor yet will she ever so be, in my opinion."

"Well!" said Calvin Parks. "I'll tell him next time he goes to market, tie her to the well-sweep and walk; you don't cal'late his legs would up and run away with him, do ye? Now I'm goin' to help Miss Hands dish up dinner."

"Hold on, Calvin! hold on jest a minute!" cried Mr. Sim anxiously. "I've got a little present I'd like for you to give Sam'l from me, sir.

It's--" he got up, shuffled across the room, and opened a cupboard door.

"It's something he's allers coveted."

Fumbling in a box, he took out an ancient seal of red carnelian, and rubbed it lovingly on his coat-sleeve.

"Belonged to Uncle Sim Penny," he said. "Ma give it to me, on accounts of me bein' his name-son; I don't know as ever I've used it, or likely to, and Sam'l has always coveted it. You give that to Sam'l, Calvin, will you?"

"Oh mola.s.ses!" said Calvin impatiently. "Give it to him yourself, you ridic'lous old object!"

"No! no, Calvin! no, no, sir!" cried Mr. Sim piteously. "We don't speak, you know; we--we've lost the habit of it, and we're too old to ketch holt of it again. You give it to him, Cal, like a good feller!

And--and there's another thing, Calvin. Did you have any dealin's with Cousin about what we was speakin' of some time along back, in regards to Sam'l?"

"I did!" said Calvin Parks.

"Well--well, Cal, what did she say?" Mr. Sim leaned forward anxiously.

"Was she anyways favorable, sir?"

"She was not!" replied Calvin. "She give me to understand--not in so many words, but that was the sense of it,--that she'd full as soon marry a cuc.u.mber-wood pump as him, or you either. So there you have it!"

"Dear me!" cried Mr. Sim; and he wrung his hands with the identical gesture that Mr. Sam had made. "Dear me sirs! what is to become of us, Calvin?"

"Dinner is ready, Cousin Sim!" said Mary Sands, putting her head in at the door. "Cousin Sam, dinner's ready! Merry Christmas to you, Mr.

Parks, and pleased to see you!"