CHAPTER IX.
THE NEW SINGING-MASTER
"He sings like an owlingale!"
Jonas Harrison was leaning against the well-curb, talking to Cynthy Ann.He'd been down to the store at Brayville, he said, a listenin' to 'emdiscuss Millerism, and seed a new singing-master there. "Could he singgood?" Cynthy asked, rather to prolong the talk than to get information.
"Sings like an owlingale, I reckon. He's got more seals to his ministrya-hanging onto his watch-chain than I ever seed. Got a mustache onto thetop story of his mouth, somethin' like a tuft of grass on the roof of aole shed kitchen. Peart? He's the peartest-lookin' chap I ever seed. Buthe a'n't no singin'-master--not of I'm any jedge of turnips. He warn'tborn to sarve his day and generation with a tunin'-fork. I think he'sa-goin' to reckon-water a little in these parts and that he's onlya-playin' singin'-master. He kin play more fiddles'n one, you bet ahoss! Says he come up here fer his wholesome, and I guess he did. Thinkef he'd a-staid where he was, he mout a-suffered a leetle fromconfinement to his room, and that room p'raps not more nor five foot bynine, and ruther dim-lighted and poor-provisioned, an' not much chancefer takin' exercise in the fresh air!"
"DON'T BE ONCHARITABLE, JONAS."]
"Don't be oncharitable, Jonas, don't. We're all mis'able sinners, Is'pose; and you know charity don't think no evil. The man may be allright, ef he does wear hair on his lip. Charity kivers lots a sins."
"Ya-as, but charity don't kiver no wolves with wool. An' ef he a'n't awoolly wolf they's no snakes in Jarsey, as little Ridin' Hood said whenher granny tried to bite her head off. I'm dead sot in favor of charity,and mean to gin her my vote at every election, but I a'n't a-goin' tohave her put a blind-bridle on to me. And when a man comes to Clarktownship a-wearing straps to his breechaloons to keep hisself fromleaving terry-firmy altogether, and a weightin' hisself down with pewterwatch-seals, gold-washed, and a cultivating a crap of red-top hay ontohis upper lip, and a-lettin' on to be a singin'-master, I suspicionshim. They's too much in the git-up fer the come-out. Well, here's yerhealth, Cynthy!"
And having made this oracular speech and quaffed the hard limestonewater, Jonas hung the clean white gourd from which he had been drinking,in its place against the well-curb, and started back to the field, whileCynthy Ann carried her bucket of water into the kitchen, blaming herselffor standing so long talking to Jonas. To Cynthy everything pleasant hada flavor of sinfulness.
The pail of water was hardly set down in the sink when there came aknock at the door, and Cynthy found standing by it the strappedpantaloons, the "red-top" mustache, the watch-seals, and all the restthat went to make up the new singing-master. He smiled when he saw her,one of those smiles which are strictly limited to the lower half of theface, and are wholly mechanical, as though certain strings inside werepulled with malice aforethought and the mouth jerked out into a squaregrin, such as an ingeniously-made automaton might display.
"Is Mr. Anderson in?"
"No, sir; he's gone to town."
"Is Mrs. Anderson in?"
And so he entered, and soon got into conversation with the lady of thehouse, and despite the prejudice which she entertained for mustaches,she soon came to like him. He smiled so artistically. He talked sofluently. He humored all her whims, pitied all her complaints, and staidto dinner, eating her best preserves with a graciousness that made Mrs.Anderson feel how great was his condescension. For Mr. Humphreys, thesinging-master, had looked at the comely face of Julia, and looked overJulia's shoulders at the broad acres beyond; and he thought that inClark township he had not met with so fine a landscape, so nice afigure-piece. And with the quick eye of a man of the world, he hadmeasured Mrs. Anderson, and calculated on the ease with which he mightcomplete the picture to suit his taste.
He staid to supper. He smiled that same fascinating square smile onSamuel Anderson, treated him as head of the house, talked glibly offarming, and listened better than he talked. He gave no account ofhimself, except by way of allusion. He would begin a sentence thus,"When I was traveling in France with my poor dear mother," etc., fromwhich Mrs. Anderson gathered that he had been a devoted son, and then hewould relate how he had seen something curious "when he was dining atthe house of the American minister at Berlin." "This hazy air reminds meof my native mountains in Northern New York." And then he would alludeto his study of music in the Conservatory in Leipsic. To plain countrypeople in an out-of-the-way Western neighborhood, in 1843, such a manwas better than a lyceum full of lectures. He brought them the odor offoreign travel, the flavor of city, the "otherness" thateverybody craves.
THE HAWK.]
He staid to dinner, as I have said, and to supper. He staid over night.He took up his board at the house of Samuel Anderson. Who could resisthis entreaty? Did he not assure them that he felt the need of a home ina cultivated family? And was it not the one golden opportunity to havethe daughter of the house taught music by a private master, and thusgive a special _eclat_ to her education? How Mrs. Anderson hoped thatthis superior advantage would provoke jealous remarks on the part of herneighbors! It was only necessary to the completion of her triumph thatthey should say she was "stuck up." Then, too, to have so brilliant abeau for Julia! A beau with watch-seals and a mustache, a beau who hadbeen to Paris with his mother, studied music in the Conservatory atLeipsic, dined with the American minister in Berlin, and done ever somany more wonderful things, was a prospect to delight the ambitiousheart of Mrs. Anderson, especially as he flattered the mother instead ofthe daughter.
"He's a independent citizen of this Federal Union," said Jonas toCynthy, "carries his head like he was intimately 'quainted with the'merican eagle hisself. He's playin' this game sharp. He deals all thetrumps to hisself, and most everything besides. He'll carry off the galif something don't arrest him in his headlong career. Jist let me git achance at him when he's soarin' loftiest into the amber blue above, andI'll cut his kite-string for him, and let him fall like fork-edlightnin' into a mud-puddle."
Cynthy said she did see one great sin that he had committed for sure.That was the puttin' on of gold and costly apparel. It was sot down inthe Bible and in the Methodist Discipline that it was a sin to weargold, and she should think the poor man hadn't no sort o' regard for hissoul, weighing it down with them things.
But Jonas only remarked that he guessed his jewelry warn't no sin. Hedidn't remember nothing agin wearin' pewter.