Kilo : being the love story of Eliph' Hewlitt, book agent
Produced by Linda P. Kemper-Holzman, and David Widger
KILO
Being the Love Story of Eliph' Hewlitt Book Agent
By Ellis Parker Butler
Contents
KILO
CHAPTER I. Eliph' Hewlitt CHAPTER II. Susan CHAPTER III. "How to Win the Affections" CHAPTER IV. Kilo CHAPTER V. Sammy Mills CHAPTER VI. The Castaway CHAPTER VII. The Colonel CHAPTER VIII. The Medium-Sized Box CHAPTER IX. The Witness CHAPTER X. The Boss Grafter CHAPTER XI. The False Gods of Doc Weaver CHAPTER XII. Getting Acquainted CHAPTER XIII. "Second: A Small Present" CHAPTER XIV. Something Turns Up CHAPTER XV. Difficulties CHAPTER XVI. Two Lovers, and a Third CHAPTER XVII. According to Jarby's CHAPTER XVIII. Another Trial CHAPTER XIX. Pap Briggs' Hen Food
KILO
CHAPTER I. Eliph' Hewlitt
Eliph' Hewlitt, book agent, seated in his weather-beaten top buggy,drove his horse, Irontail, carefully along the rough Iowa hill road thatleads from Jefferson to Clarence. The Horse, a rusty gray, tottered ina loose-jointed manner from side to side of the road, half asleep inthe sun, and was indolent in every muscle of his body, except his tail,which thrashed violently at the flies. Eliph' Hewlitt drove with hishands held high, almost on a level with his sandy whiskers, for he waswell acquainted with Irontail.
The road seemed to pass through a region of large farms, offering fewopportunities for selling books, the houses being so far apart, butEliph' knew the small settlement of Clarence was a few miles fartheron, and he was carrying enlightenment to the benighted. He glowed withmissionary zeal. In his eagerness he thoughtlessly slapped the reins onthe back of Irontail.
Instantly the plump, gray tail of the horse flashed over the rein andclamped it fast. Eliph' Hewlitt leaned over the dashboard of his buggyand grasped the hair of the tail firmly. He pulled it upward with allhis strength, but the tail did not yield. Instead, Irontail kickedvigorously. Eliph' Hewlitt, knowing his horse as well as he knew humannature, climbed out of the buggy, and taking the rein close by the bitled Irontail to the side of the road. Then he took from beneath thebuggy seat a bulky, oil-cloth-wrapped parcel and seated himself near thehorse's head. There was no safety for a timid driver when Irontail hadthus assumed command of the rein. There was no way to get a rein frombeneath that tail but to ignore it. In an hour or so Irontail wouldgrow forgetful, carelessly begin flapping flies, and release the reinhimself.
Eliph' Hewlitt unwrapped the oilcloth from the object it enfolded. Itwas a book. It was Jarby's 'Encyclopedia of Knowledge and Compendium ofLiterature, Science, Art, Comprising Useful Information on One Thousandand One Subjects, Including A History of the World, the Lives of allFamous Men, Quotations From the World's Great Authors, One Thousand andOne Recipes, Et Cetera'. One Volume, five dollars bound in cloth; sevenfifty in morocco. Eliph' Hewlitt passed his hand affectionately over thegilt-stamped cover, and then opened it at random and read.
For years he had been reading Jarby's Encyclopedia, and among its tenthousand and one subjects he always found something new. It opened nowat "Courtship--How to Make Love--How to Win the Affections--How to HoldThem When Won," and although he had read the pages often before, hefound in all parts of the book, whenever he read it, a new meaning.It occurred to him that even a book agent might have reason to use thehelpful words set for in clear type in the chapter on "Courtship--How toMake Love," and he realized that sometime he must reach the age when hewould need a home of his own. For years he had thought of woman only asa possible customer for Jarby's Encyclopedia. Every woman, not alreadymarried, he now saw, might be a possible Mrs. Eliph' Hewlitt.
Suddenly he raised his head. On the breeze there was borne to him thesound of voices--many voices. He closed the book with a bang. His smallbody became tense; his eyes glittered. He scented prey. He wrapped thebook in its oilcloth, laid it upon the buggy seat, and taking Irontailby the bridle, started in the direction of the voices.
Half a mile down the road he came upon a scene of merriment. In acleared grove men, women and children were gathered; it was a churchpicnic. Eliph' Hewlitt took his hitching strap from beneath the buggyseat and secured Irontail to a tree.
"Church picnic," he said to himself; "one, two, sixteen, twenty-four,AND the minister. Good for twelve copies of Jarby's Encyclopedia orI'm no good myself. I love church picnics. What so lovely as to see thepastor and his flock gathered together in a bunch, as I may say, liketen-pins, ready to be scooped in, all at one shot?"
He walked up to the rail fence and leaned against it so that he might beseen and invited in. It was better policy than pushing himself forward,and it gave him time to study the faces. He did not find them hopefulsubjects. They were not the faces of readers. They were not even thefaces of buyers. Even in their holiday finery, the women were shabbyand the men were careworn. The minister himself, white-bearded andgray-haired, showed more signs of spiritual grace than intellectualstrength.
One woman, fresh and bright as a butterfly, appeared among them, andEliph' Hewlitt knew her at once as a city dweller, who had somehow gotinto this dull and hard-working community. Almost at the same momentshe noticed him, and approached him. She smiled kindly and extended herhand.
"Won't you come in?" she asked. "I don't seem to remember your face, butwe would be glad to have you join us."
Eliph' Hewlitt shook his head.
"No'm," he said sadly. "I'd better not come in. Not that I don't wantto, but I wouldn't be welcome. There ain't anything I like so muchas church picnics, and when I was a boy I used to cry for them, but Iwouldn't dare join you. I'm a"--he looked around cautiously, and said ina whisper--"I'm a book agent."
The lady laughed.
"Of course," she said, "that DOES make a difference; but you needn't bea book agent to-day. You can forget it for a while and join us."
Eliph' Hewlitt shook his head again.
"That's it," he said. "That's just the reason. I CAN'T forget it. I tryto, but I can't. Just when I don't want to, I break out, and before Iknow it I've sold everybody a book, and then I feel like I'd imposed ongood nature. They take me in as a friend and then I sell 'em a copy ofJarby's 'Encyclopedia of Knowledge and Compendium of Literature, Scienceand Art,' ten thousand and one subjects, from A to Z, including recipesfor every known use, quotations from famous authors, lives of famousmen, and, in one word, all the world's wisdom condensed into one volume,five dollars, neatly bound in cloth, one dollar down and one dollar amonth until paid."
He paused, and the lady looked at him with an amused smile.
"Or seven fifty, handsomely bound in morocco," he added. "So you see Idon't feel like I ought to impose. I know how I am. You take my mothernow. She hadn't seen me for eight years. I'd been traveling all overthese United States, carrying knowledge and culture into the homesof the people at five dollars, easy payments, per home, and I got atelegram saying, 'Come home. Mother very ill.'" He nodded his headslowly. "Wonderful invention, the telegraph," he said. "It tellsall about it on page 562 of Jarby's 'Encyclopedia of Knowledge andCompendium of Literature, Science and Art,'--who invented; when firstused; name of every city, town, village and station in the U.S. thathas a telegraph office; complete explanation of the telegraph system,telling how words are carried over a slender wire, et cetery, et cetery.This and ten thousand other useful facts in one volume, only fivedollars, bound in cloth. So when I got that telegram I took the trainfor home. Look in the index under T. 'Train, Railway--see Railway.''Railway; when first operated; inventor of the locomotive engine;railway accidents from 1892 to 1904, giving number of fatal accidentsper year, p
er month, per week, per day, and per miles; et cetery, etcetery. Every subject known to man fully and interestingly treated, WITHillustrations."
"I don't believe I care for a copy to-day," said the lady.
"No," said Eliph' Hewlitt, meekly. "I know it. Nor I don't want to sellyou one. I just mentioned it to show you that when you have a copy ofJarby's Encyclopedia of Knowledge you have an entire library in onebook, arranged and indexed by the greatest minds of the nineteenth andtwentieth centuries. One dollar down and one dollar a month until paid.But--when I got home I found mother low--very low. When I went in shewas just able to look up and whisper, 'Eliph'?' 'Yes, mother,' I says.'Is it really you at last?' she says. 'Yes, mother,' I says, 'it's meat last, mother, and I couldn't get here sooner. I was out in Ohio,carrying joy to countless homes and introducing to them Jarby'sEncyclopedia of Knowledge and Compendium of Literature, Science and Art.It is a book, mother,' I says, 'suited for rich or poor, young or old.No family is complete without it. Ten thousand and one subjects, allindexed from A to Z, including an appendix of the Spanish War broughtdown to the last moment, and maps of Europe, Asia, Africa, North andSouth America and Australia. This book, mother,' I says, 'is a gold mineof information for the young, and a solace for the old. Pages 201 to 263filled with quotations from the world's great poets, making select andhelpful reading for the fireside lamp. Pages 463 to 468, dying sayingsof famous men and women. A book,' I says, 'that teaches us how to liveand how to die. All the wisdom of the world in one volume, five dollars,neatly bound in cloth, one dollar down and one dollar a month untilpaid.' Mother looked up at me and says, 'Eliph', put me down for onecopy.' So I did. I hope I may do the same for you."
The lady was about to speak, but Eliph' Hewlitt held up his handwarningly.
"No," he said. "I beg your pardon. I didn't MEAN to say that. I couldn'tthink of taking your order. I didn't mean to ask it any more than Imeant to ask mother. It's habit, and that's what I'm afraid of. I'dbetter not intrude."
The lady evidently did not agree with him. He amused her because he waswhat she called a "type," and she was always on the lookout for "types."She urged him to join the picnic, and said he could try not to talkbooks, and reminded him that no one could do more than try. He climbedthe fence with a reluctance that was the more noticeable because hisclimbing was retarded by the oilcloth-covered parcel he held beneathhis arm. The lady smiled as she noticed that he had not feared hissoliciting habits sufficiently to leave the book in the buggy, and shemade a mental note of this to be used in the story she meant to writeabout this book-agent type.
"My name is Smith," she told him, as she tripped lightly toward thegroup about the lunch baskets.
Eliph' Hewlitt was a small man and his movements were short and jerky.He drew his hand over his red whiskers and coughed gently when shementioned her name, and as she hurried on before him he looked at hertall, straight figure; noticed the stylish mode of her simple summergown, and caught a glimpse of low, white shoes and neat ankles coveredby delicately woven silk.
"Courtship--How to Make Love--How to Win the Affections--How to HoldThem When Won," he meditated. "Lovely, but she will not suit. She is anencyclopedia of knowledge and compendium of literature, science and art,but she is not the edition I can afford. She is gilt-edged and moroccobound, and an ornament to any parlor, but I can't afford her. My styleis cloth, good substantial cloth, one dollar down and one dollar a monthuntil paid. As I might say."