The Blunders of a Bashful Man Part 15
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Still, she was pretty, with dark eyes that looked into yours in a wonderfully confiding way--melting, liquid, deep eyes, that even a man who is perfectly self-possessed can not see to the bottom of soon enough for his own good. As for me, those eyes confused while they pleased me. The widow never noticed my embarra.s.sment; but, the ice once broken, talked on and on. She gave me, in soft, sweet, broken accents, her history--how she had been her mother's only pet, and had married a rich Chicago broker, who had died in less than two years, leaving her alone--all alone--with plenty of money, plenty of jewelry, a fine house, but alas, "no one to love her, none to caress,"
as the song says, and the world a desert.
"But I can still love _a friend_," she added, with a melancholy smile.
"One as disinterested, as ignorant of the world as you, would please me best. You must stop in Chicago," she said, giving me her card before we parted. "Every traveler should spend a few days in our wonderful city. Call on me, and I will have up my carriage and take you out to see the sights."
Need I say that I stopped in Chicago? or add that I went to call on the fair widow? She took me out driving according to promise. I found that she was just the style of woman that suited me best. I was bashful; she was not. I was silent; she could keep up the conversation with very little aid from me. With such a woman as that I could get along in life. She would always be willing to take the lead. All I would have to do would be to give her the reins, and she would keep the team going. She would be willing to walk the first into church--to interview the butcher and baker--to stand between me and the world. A wife like that would be some comfort to a bashful man. Besides, she was rich! Had she not said it? I have seldom had a happier hour than that of our swift, exhilarating drive. The colored driver, gorgeous in his handsome livery, kept his eyes and ears to himself. I lolled back in the luxurious carriage beside my charmer. I forgot the unhappy accident of the blasting-powder--all the mortifications and disappointments of my life. I reveled in bliss. For once, I had nothing to do but be courted. How often had I envied the girls their privilege of keeping quiet and being made love to. How often had I sighed to be one of the s.e.x who is popped to and does not have to pop.
And now, this lovely, brilliant creature who sat beside me, having been once married, and seeing my natural timidity, "knew how it was herself," and took on her own fair hands all the responsibility.
"Mr. Flutter," said she, "I know just how you feel--you want to ask me to marry you, but you are too bashful. Have I guessed right?"
I pressed her hand in speechless a.s.sent.
"Yes, my dear boy, I knew it. Well, this is leap-year, and I will not see you sacrificed to your own timidity. I am yours, whenever you wish--to-morrow if you say so--yours forever. You shall have no trouble about it, I will speak to the Rev. Mr. Coalyard myself--I know him. When shall it be?--speak, dearest!"
I gasped out "to-morrow," and buried my blus.h.i.+ng face on her shoulder.
For a moment her soft arms were twined around me--a moment only, for we were on the open lake drive. Not more than ten seconds did the pretty widow embrace me, but that was time enough, as I learned to my sorrow, for her to extract my pocket-book, containing the five hundred dollars I still had remaining from the sale of my mining-stock, and not one dollar of which did I ever see again.
CHAPTER XVI.
AT LAST HE SECURES A TREASURE.
I had to p.a.w.n my watch to get away from Chicago, for the police failed to find my pretty widow. The thought of getting again under my mother's wing was as welcome as my desire to get away from it had been eager. At night my dreams were haunted by all sorts of horrible fire-works, where old gentlemen sat down on powder-kegs, etc. Oh, for home! I knew there were no widows in my native village, except Widow Green, and I was not afraid of her. Well, I took the cars once more, and I had been riding two days and a night, and was not over forty miles from my destination, when the little incident occurred which proved to lead me into one of the worst blunders of all. It's _awful_ to be a bashful young man!
Everybody takes advantage of you. You are the victim of practical jokes--folks laugh if you do nothing on earth but enter a room. If you happen to hit your foot against a stool, or trip over a rug, or call a lady "sir," the girls giggle and the boys nudge each other, as if it were extremely amusing. But to blow up a confiding Wall street speculator, and to be swindled out of all your money by a pretty widow, is enough to make a sensitive man a raving lunatic. I had all this to think of as I was whirled along toward home. So absorbed was I in melancholy reflection, that I did not notice what was going on until a sudden shrill squawk close in my ear caused me to turn, when I found that a very common-looking young woman, with a by no means interesting infant of six months, had taken the vacant half of my seat. I was annoyed. There were plenty of unoccupied seats in the car, and I saw no reason why she should intrude upon my comfort. The infant shrieked wildly when I looked at it; but its mother stopped its mouth with one of those what-do-you-call-'ems that are stuck on the end of a flat bottle containing sweetened milk, and, after sputtering and gurgling in a vain attempt to keep on squalling, it subsided and went vigorously to work.
It seemed after a time to become more accustomed to my harmless visage, and stared at me stolidly, with round, unwinking eyes, after it had exhausted the contents of the bottle.
In about half an hour the train stopped at a certain station; the conductor yelled out "ten minutes for refreshments," the eating-house man rang a big bell, and the pa.s.sengers, many of them, hurried out.
Then the freckle-faced woman leaned toward me.
"Are you goin' out?" said she.
"No," I replied, politely; "I am not far from home, and prefer waiting for my lunch until I get there."
[Ill.u.s.tration: "WOULD YOU HOLD MY BABY WHILE I RUN IN AN' GET A CUP O'
TEA?"]
"Then," said she, very earnestly, "would you hold my baby while I run in an' get a cup o' tea? Indeed, sir, I'm half famished, riding over twenty-four hours, and only a biscuit or two in my bag, and I must get some milk for baby's bottle or she'll starve."
It was impossible, under such circ.u.mstances, for one to refuse, though I would have preferred to head a regiment going into battle, for there were three young ladies, about six seats behind me, who were eating their lunch in the car, and I knew they would laugh at me; besides, the woman gave me no chance to decline, for she thrust the wide-eyed terror into my awkward arms, and rushed quickly out to obtain her cup of tea.
Did you ever see a bashful young man hold a strange baby? I expect I furnished--I and the baby--a comic opera, music and all, for the entertainment of the three girls, as they nibbled their cold chicken and pound-cake. For the mother had not been gone over fifteen seconds when that confounded young one began to cry. I sat her down on my knee and trotted her. She screamed with indignation, and grew so purple in the face I thought she was strangling, and I patted her on the back.
This liberty she resented by going into a sort of spasm, legs and arms flying in every direction, worse than a wind-mill in a gale.
"This will never do," I thought; at the same time I was positive I heard a suppressed giggle in my rear.
A happy thought occurred to me--infants were always tickled with watches! But, alas I had p.a.w.ned mine. However, I had a gold locket in my pocket, with my picture in it, which I had bought in Chicago, to present to the widow, and didn't present: this I drew forth and dangled before the eyes of the little infernal thres.h.i.+ng-machine.
The legs and arms quieted down; the fat hands grabbed the glittering trinket. "Goo--goo--goo--goo," said the baby, and thrust the locket in her mouth. I think she must have been going through the interesting process of teething, for she made so many dents in the handsome face, that it was rendered useless as a future gift to some fortunate girl, while the way she s...o...b..red over it was disgusting. I scarcely regretted the ruin of the locket, I was so delighted to have her keep quiet; but, alas! the little wretch soon dropped it and began howling like ten thousand midnight cats. I trotted her again--I tossed her--I laid her over my knees on her stomach--I said "Ssh--ssh--ssssh--sssss.h.!.+" all in vain. Instead of ten minutes for refreshments it seemed to me that they gave ten hours.
In desperation I raised her and hung her over my shoulder, rising at the same time and walking up and down the aisle. The howling ceased: but now the young ladies, after choking with suppressed laughter, finally broke into a scream of delight. Something must be up! I took the baby down and looked over my shoulder--the little rip had opened her mouth and sent a stream of white, curdy milk down the back of my new overcoat. For one instant the fate of that child hung in the balance. I walked to the door, and made a movement to throw her to the dogs; but humanity gained the day, and I refrained.
I felt that my face was redder than the baby's; every pa.s.senger remaining in the car was smiling. I went calmly back, and laid her down on the seat, while I took off my coat and made an attempt to remove the odious matters with my handkerchief, which ended by my throwing the coat over the back of the seat in disgust, resolving that mother would have to finish the job with her "Renovator." My handkerchief I threw out of the window.
Thank goodness! the engine bell was ringing at last and the people crowding back into the train.
I drew a long breath of relief, s.n.a.t.c.hed the shrieking infant up again, for fear the mother would blame me for neglecting her ugly brat--and waited.
"All aboard!" shouted the conductor; the bell ceased to ring, the wheels began to revolve, the train was in motion.
"Great Jupiter Ammen!" I thought, while a cold sweat started out all over me, "she will be left!"
The cars moved faster and more mercilessly fast; the conductor appeared at the door; I rose and rushed toward him, the baby in my arms, crying:
"For Heaven's sake, conductor, stop the cars!"
"What's up?" he asked.
"What's up? Stop the cars, I say! Back down to the station again!
_This baby's mother's left!_"
"Then she left on purpose," he answered coolly; "she never went into the eating-house at all. I saw her making tall tracks for the train that goes the other way. I thought it was all right. I didn't notice she hadn't her baby with her. I'll telegraph at the next station; that's all that can be done now."
This capped the climax of all my previous blunders! Why had I blindly consented to care for that woman's progeny? Why? why? Here was I, John Flutter, a young, innocent, unmarried man, approaching the home of my childhood with an infant in my arms! The horror of my situation turned me red and pale by turns as if I had apoplexy or heart disease.
There was always a crowd of young people down at the depot of our village; what would they think to see me emerge from the cars carrying that baby? Even the child seemed astonished, ceasing to cry, and staring around upon the pa.s.sengers as if in wonder and amazement at our predicament. Yet not one of those heartless travelers seemed to pity me; every mouth was stretched in a broad grin; not a woman came forward and offered to relieve me of my burden; and thus, in the midst of my embarra.s.sment and horror, the train rolled up to the well-known station, and I saw my father and mother, and half the boys and girls of the village, crowding the platform and waiting to welcome my arrival.
CHAPTER XVII.
HE ENJOYS HIMSELF AT A BALL.
Once more I was settled quietly down to my old life, clerking in my father's store. You would naturally suppose that my travels would have given me some confidence, and that I had worn out, as it were, the bashfulness of youth; but in my case this was an inborn quality which I could no more get rid of, than I could of my liver or my spleen.
I had never confessed to any one the episode of the giant-powder or the Chicago widow; but the story of the baby had crept out, through the conductor, who told it to the station-master. If you want to know how _that_ ended, I'll just tell you that, maddened by the grins and giggles of the pa.s.sengers, I started for the car door with that baby, but, in pa.s.sing those three giggling young ladies, I suddenly slung the infant into their collective laps, and darted out upon the station platform. That's the way I got out of that sc.r.a.pe.
As I was saying, after all those dreadful experiences, I was glad to settle down in the store, where I honestly strove to overcome my weakness; but it was still so troublesome that father always interfered when the girls came in to purchase dry-goods. He said I almost destroyed the profits of the business, giving extra measure on ribbons and silks, and getting confused over the calicoes. But I'm certain the shoe was on the other foot; there wasn't a girl in town would go anywhere else to shop when they could enjoy the fun of teasing me; so that if I made a few blunders, I also brought custom.
Cold weather came again, and I was one year older. There was a grand ball on the twenty-second of February, to which I invited Hetty Sloc.u.m, who accepted my escort. We expected to have lots of fun. The ball-room was in the third story of the Spread-Eagle Hotel. There was to be a splendid supper at midnight in the big dining-room; hot oysters "in every style," roast turkey, chicken-pie, coffee, and all the sweet fixings.
It turned out to be a clear night; I took Hetty to the hotel in father's fancy sleigh, in good style, and having got her safely to the door of the ladies' parlor without a blunder to mar my peace of mind, except that I stepped on her slippered foot in getting into the sleigh, and crushed it so, that Hetty could hardly dance for the pain, I began to feel an unusual degree of confidence in myself, which I fortified by a stern resolution, on no account to get to blus.h.i.+ng and stammering, but to walk coolly up to the handsomest girls and ask them out on the floor with all the self-possessed gallantry of a man of the world.
Alas! "the best-laid plans of mice an' men must aft gang," like a balky horse--just opposite to what you want them to. I spoke to my acquaintances in the bar-room easily enough, but when one after one the fellows went up to the door of the ladies' dressing-room to escort their fair companions to the ball-room, I felt my courage oozing away, until, under the pretext of keeping warm by the fire, I remained in the bar-room until every one else had deserted it. Then I slowly made my way up, intending to enter the gentlemen's dressing-room, to tie my white cravat, and put on my white kids. I found the room deserted--every one had entered the ball-room but myself; I could hear the gay music of the violins, and the tapping of the feet on the floor overhead. Surely it was time that I had called for _my_ lady, and taken her up.
The Blunders of a Bashful Man Part 15
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