At the Sign of the Jack O'Lantern Part 31

From thence onward the book proceeded without interruption, a minute and faithful record of the man's inner life. Long extracts copied from books filled page after page of this strange diary, interspersed with records of business transactions, of letters received and answered, of wages paid, and of the visits of Jeremiah Bradford.

"We talked long to-night upon the immortality of the soul," one entry ran.

"Jeremiah does not believe it, but I must--or die."

d.i.c.k soon lost interest in the book, and finding solitary toil at the shelves uncongenial, went out, whistling. Elaine and Dorothy read on together, scarcely noting his absence.

The book had begun in the Spring. Early in June was chronicled the arrival of "a woman calling herself Cousin Elmira, blood relation of my Rebecca.

Was not aware my Rebecca had a blood relation named Elmira, but there is much in the world that I do not know."

According to the diary, Cousin Elmira had remained six weeks and had greatly distressed her unwilling host. "Women are peculiar," Uncle Ebeneezer had written, "all being possessed of the devil, except my sainted Rebecca, who was an angel if there ever was one.

"Cousin Elmira is a curious woman. To-day she desired to know what had become of my Rebecca's wedding garments, her linen sheets and table-cloths. Answered that I did not know, and immediately put a lock upon the chest containing them. Have always been truthful up to now, but Rebecca would not desire to have any blood relation handling her sheets.

Of this I am sure.

"Aug. 9. To-day came Cousin Silas Martin and his wife to spend their honeymoon. Much grieved to hear of Rebecca's death. Said she had invited them to spend their honeymoon with her when they married. Did not know of this, but our happiness was of such short duration that my Rebecca did not have time to tell me of all her wishes. Company is very hard to bear, but I would do much for my Rebecca.

"Aug. 10. This world can never be perfect under any circ.u.mstances, and trials are the common lot of humanity. We must all endeavour to bear up under affliction. Sarah Smithers is a good woman, most faithful, and does not talk a great deal, considering her s.e.x. Not intending any reflection upon my Rebecca, whose sweet voice I could never hear too often.

"Aug. 20. Came Uncle Israel Skiles with a bad cough. Thinks the air of Judson Centre must be considered healthy as they are to build a sanitarium here. Did not know of the sanitarium.

"Aug. 22. Came Cousin Betsey Skiles to look after Uncle Israel. Uncle Israel not desiring to be looked after has produced some disturbance in my house.

"Aug. 23. Cousin Betsey Skiles and Cousin Jane Wood, the latter arriving unexpectedly this morning, have fought, and Cousin Jane has gone away again. Had never met Cousin Jane Wood.

"Aug. 24. Was set upon by Cousin Silas Martin, demanding to know whether his wife was to be insulted by Cousin Betsey Skiles. Answered that I did not know.

"Aug. 25. Was obliged to settle a dispute between Sarah Smithers and Cousin Betsey Skiles. Decided in favour of S. S., thereby angering B. S.

Uncle Israel accidentally spilled his tonic on Cousin Betsey's clean ap.r.o.n. Much disturbance in my house.

"Aug. 28. Cousin Silas Martin and wife went away, telling me they could no longer live with Cousin Betsey Skiles. B. S. is unpleasant, but has her virtues.

"Sept. 5. Uncle Israel thinks air of Judson Centre is now too chilly for his cough. Does not like his bed, considering it drafty. Says Sarah Smithers does not give him nouris.h.i.+ng food.

"Sept. 8. Uncle Israel has gone.

"Sept. 10. Cousin Betsey Skiles has gone to continue looking after Uncle Israel. Sarah Smithers and myself now alone in peace.

All that Winter, the writing was of books, interspersed with occasional business details. In the Spring, the influx of blood relations began again and continued until Fall. The diary revealed the gradual transformation of a sunny disposition into a dark one, of a man with gregarious instincts into a wild beast asking only for solitude. Additions to the house were chronicled from time to time, with now and then a pathetic comment upon the futility of the additions.

Once there was this item: "Would go away for ever were it not that this was my Rebecca's home. Where we had hoped to be so happy, there is now a great emptiness and unnumbered Relations. How shall I endure Relations?

Still they are all of her blood, though the most gentle blood does seem to take strange turns."

Again: "Do not think my Rebecca would desire to have all her kin visit her at once. Still, would do anything for my Rebecca. Have ordered five more beds."

As the years went by, the bitterness became more and more apparent. Long before the end, the record was frankly profane, and saddest of all was the evidence that under the stress of annoyance the great love for "my Rebecca" was slowly, but surely, becoming tainted. From simple profanity, Uncle Ebeneezer descended into blasphemous comment, modified at times by remorseful tenderness toward the dead.

"To-day," he wrote, "under pressure of my questioning, Sister-in-law f.a.n.n.y Wood admitted that Rebecca had never invited her to come and see her.

Asked Sister-in-law why she was here. Responded that Rebecca would have asked her if she had lived. Perhaps others have surmised the same. Fear of late I may have been unjust to my Rebecca."

Later on, "my Rebecca" was mentioned but rarely. She became "my dear companion," "my wife," or "my partner." The building of wings and the purchase of additional beds by this time had become a permanent feature, though, as the writer admitted, it was "a roundabout way."

"The easiest way would be to turn all out. Forgetting my duty to the memory of my dear companion, and sore pressed by many annoyances, did turn out Cousin Betsey Skiles, who forgave me for it without being so requested, and remained.

"Trains to Judson Centre," he wrote, at one time, "have been most grievously changed. One arrives just after breakfast, the other at three in the morning. Do not understand why this is, and antic.i.p.ate new trouble from it."

The entries farther on were full of "trouble," being minute and intimate portrayals of the emotions of one roused from sleep at three in the morning to admit undesired guests, interlarded with pardonable profanity.

"Seems that house might be altered in some way, but do not know. Will consult with Jeremiah."

After this came the record of an interview with the village carpenter, and rough sketches of proposed alterations. "Putting in new window in middle and making two upper windows round instead of square, with new porch-railing and two new narrow windows downstairs will do it. House fortunately planned by original architect for such alteration. Taking down curtains and keeping lights in windows nights should have some effect, though much doubt whether anything would affect Relations."

Soon afterward the oppressed one chronicled with great glee how a lone female, arriving on the night train, was found half-dead from fright by the roadside in the morning. "House _is_ fearsome," wrote Uncle Ebeneezer, with evident relish. "Have been to Jeremiah's of an evening and, returning, found it wonderful to behold."

Presently, Dorothy came to an intimate a.n.a.lysis of some of the uninvited ones at present under her roof. The poet was given a full page of scathing comment, ill.u.s.trated by rude caricatures, which were so suggestive that even Elaine thoroughly enjoyed them.

Pleased with his contribution to literature, Uncle Ebeneezer had written a long and keenly comprehensive essay upon each relation. These bits of vivid portraiture were numbered in this way: "Relation Number 8, Miss Betsey Skiles, Claiming to be Cousin." At the end of this series was a very beautiful tribute to "My Dearly Beloved Nephew, James Harlan Carr, Who Has Never Come to See Me."

Frequently, thereafter, came pathetic references to "Dear Nephew James,"

"Unknown Recipient of an Old Man's Grat.i.tude," "Discerning and Admirable James," and so on.

One entry ran as follows: "Have been approached this season by each Relation present in regard to disposal of my estate. Will fix surprise for all Relations before leaving to join my wife. Shall leave money to every one, though perhaps not as much as each expects. Jeremiah advises me to leave something to each. Laws are such, I believe, that no one remembered can claim more. Desire to be just, but strongly incline to dear Nephew James."

On the last page of all was a significant paragraph. "Dreamed of seeing my Rebecca once more, who told me we should be together again April 7th.

Shall make all arrangements for leaving on that day, and prepare Surprises spoken of. Shall be very quiet in my grave with no Relations at hand, but should like to hear and see effect of Surprise. Jeremiah will attend."

The last lines were written on April sixth. "To-morrow I shall join my loved Rebecca and leave all Relations here to fight by themselves. Do not fear Death, but shudder at Relations. Relations keep life from being pleasant. Did not know my Rebecca was possessed of such numbers nor of such kinds, but forgive her all. Shall see her to-morrow."

Then, on the line below, in a hand that did not falter, was written: "The End."

Dorothy wiped her eyes on a corner of Elaine's ap.r.o.n, for Uncle Ebeneezer had been found dead in his bed on the morning of April seventh. "Elaine,"

she said, "what would you do?"

"Do?" repeated Elaine. "I'd strike one blow for poor old Uncle Ebeneezer!