The Puddleford Papers Part 31

"'Tis fire! 'Tis _raal_ fire!"

"O--d-e-a-r!"

"Take him some _wa_-ter!"

"I say, _mister_--mister," exclaimed Mr. Longbow, who had become really frightened, and who could sit still no longer, when he saw the man positively burning up--"Did you really mean to set that _tow_ on fire?

Don't it _burn_, mister? Don't you want some help? I say, sir, mis-_ter_!"

The man answered by blowing a stream of sparks out of his mouth straight at the Squire, who started back in terror, and overset Mrs. Longbow, who uttered an unearthly scream.

The fire flickered out at last, and order was restored.

This was followed by the "ribbon factory," and the man pulled a pile of them out of his mouth, of all sizes and colors, and scattered them around his feet in the most reckless manner.

"Don't tromp on 'em," said Aunt Sonora.

"He ought to be _keer_ful on 'em," said another.

"If Whistle & Sharp only sold sich ribbons," another.

"And to think," continued Mrs. Bird, "they come right out on him, too."

"He keeps 'em in his _butes_," roared Turtle.

"They don't come out of his _butes_ at all," said Aunt Sonora; "they're all in his _mouth_."

"He didn't put 'em _in_ his butes," said Mrs. Swipes; "how could they come out on 'em?"

"Put 'em in 'fore he come," said Turtle.

"I say, mister," inquired Squire Longbow, who wished to settle the disputed point for the benefit of all, "did you put them 'are ribbons inter yer butes 'fore you come?"

The man c.o.c.ked his eye, and kept pulling away.

The Squire looked indignant.

"Ask him if they are raal ribbons," said Aunt Sonora.

"I say, mister," stammered the Squire, again rising, "are them 'are raal ribbons?"

The man still pulled.

"Won't answer no questions!" exclaimed the Squire, and he sat down. The ribbon factory at last ran out.

The only other exercise of importance was cooking eggs in a hat. The performer had borrowed the Squire's hat in the most polite way possible, saying, "he would confer a great favor upon him for the loan of it for a few moments; it would so much aid him in his feats. It was just _the_ hat he wanted--it was sometimes difficult for him to find just _the_ hat--but the Squire's hat filled his eye to a dot."

Now the Squire's hat was the most remarkable hat in all Puddleford. It was a broad-brimmed affair, "raal beaver," he said, which he'd worn mor'n twenty years. He bought it down on the "Susquehannas," and had watched it with sacred care ever since he had owned it. He wore it on Sunday, Fourth of July, on town-meeting days, and on all special occasions. He kept it the rest of the time in a closet in the "_cham_-ber," covered with a piece of "ile-cloth," which was about as ancient as the hat. There was one grease spot on it, and only one, and there was not a man, woman, or child in the settlement who did not know how it "come on," for the Squire had detailed the circ.u.mstances that led to the catastrophe, a hundred times.

The hat was set upon the floor, and the performer brought out a basket of eggs, and bowing gracefully, holding one in his hand at the same time, said he would cook a dozen in that hat, pointing to the Squire's hat significantly.

"S-i-r!" exclaimed the Squire.

"Keep easy, sir!" said the man.

"In--my--hat!"

"Yes, sir! in your _hat_!"

"In my _beaver_ hat?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Cook _eggs_?"

"Yes, sir! _Cook_ 'em!"

"That hat!"

"Yes, sir! I say _that_ hat!"

"Down in front!" exclaimed Turtle; "can't see."

"That hat!" gasped the Squire again.

"He's gummin' you," roared Turtle; "can't cook eggs in a hat. Down in front!"

Squire Longbow was very much excited, and had turned very red in the face.

He could not help but think what his first wife would say if she was there--what she would say if she saw that hat with eggs "a-bilin'" in it--but perhaps the showman was "a-tryin'" to scare him, as Turtle said--he would wait a little and watch him closely.

"And now," said the performer, "examine this egg--it is a real egg--and now you see me break it--and now it is broke--and now," cracking it apart with his thumb nails, and looking down into the Squire's hat--"there _it goes_!"

"Twenty-five dollars! twenty-five dollars for that!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the Squire, filled with fury, and jumping towards the performer, with his fist doubled, and his teeth firm set. "You're a great scoundrel, sir--you _borrow'd_ that hat, sir--you borrowed it of me, sir--it is _my_ hat, sir, that you've got, sir--my name is Longbow, sir--_Squire_ Longbow, sir--that's my beaver hat, sir--twenty years old, sir--cost ten dollars, sir!"

"And there goes another," continued the performer, amid the stamping and roars of the audience, popping another egg into the Squire's hat, in the coolest manner possible, disregarding the tempest around him.

"I call upon Mr. Turtle to witness!" continued the Squire; "I'll ish-er a warrant for you, sir--I'll have you up, sir--before _me_, sir--you can't _pay_ me for that 'ere hat, sir--you'll be imprison'd--you'll go to jail, sir--you won't spile any more people's hats, sir--you won't bile eggs, arter this, sir--it's your last bilin', sir--"

By this time the smoke was rising out of the Squire's hat and curling away towards the ceiling, and the smell of cooked eggs was waxing strong in the nostrils, and the hat, so they all said, was "gone for sartin."

"La!" exclaimed Aunt Sonora, as she saw the fate of the hat, "what wicked critters these performers are; sit right down and burn up a hat--a-bilin'

eggs in it!"

The performer returned Squire Longbow's hat, after he had concluded his wonderful experiment of cooking eggs, but the old man looked upon it with suspicion. He turned it over and over, and smelled of it, but declared, at last, that it was his old beaver, and jest as good as new; whereupon he apologized for his getting into a pa.s.sion, and gave as a reason, that it "was the first time he ever saw the trick done--but now he know'd the man was a gentleman, every inch on him."

But the most remarkable exhibition that ever fell upon Puddleford occurred after this. A caravan of wild animals, about the autumnal days, took Puddleford in its way. It was called the _grand_ caravan. Quite a flaming poster preceded the animals themselves. The bill was indeed a very attractive-looking affair. There was a lion and a tiger painted on it, at a dead lock. The lion, it appeared, had opened the tiger's bowels, and the tiger had opened the lion's bowels--the lion had torn the tiger's head, and the tiger had torn the lion's head--these two furious beasts seemed to be about on an equal footing. An elephant was also portrayed in a very stately manner, carrying a house full of people on his back, who were armed to the teeth, for some unknown purpose, and who also supported a stern-looking gentleman, seated upon his tusks, who carried a long pole in his hand.

Monkeys of all sizes were scattered around the picture. Some climbing trees, some chattering higher up in the branches, and some cutting curious antics, evidently for the gratuitous amus.e.m.e.nt of the public who might choose to look on. This bill was posted up at the Eagle, and it created a very great excitement throughout Puddleford and the adjacent country.

Scores of people came in from "round about," to wonder over and digest this wonderful "picter." Aunt Sonora, Mrs. Swipes, Mrs. Bird, Mrs. Beagle, Mrs.

Longbow, and their husbands, the "Colonel," Bigelow Van Slyck, Jim Buzzard, and scores of ragged children, pressed into the bar-room, day after day, and "Oh'd" and "Ah'd" over it. All kinds of comments were made by the mult.i.tude. The origin, history, habits, and ferocity of the animals were sagely discussed and settled. Squire Longbow, among the rest, told wonderful stories about the "roar" of the lion--how he "shak't the whole woods, when he got his wrath up, and made all the other animals run and hide themselves--he said they'd all have to stop their ears if that feller (pointing to the said lion on the show-bill) giv' 'em a blast--he heer'd one roar onct, down onter the Susquehannas, and he shouldn't forget it the longest day _he_ lived."