CHAPTER XXI.
Mrs. Bird gets in a Rage.--Starve a Child.--Mrs. Bird blows off at Mrs. Beagle.--Takes Breath.--Blows off again.--Mrs. Beagle gives a Piece of her Mind.--Aunt Sonora drops in.--She has no Faith in Second Wives.--All adjourn to the House of Mrs. Swipes.--General Fight of Tongues.--Mrs. Swipes gives her Opinion.--A Dead Set by all upon Mrs. Longbow.--Mrs. Longbow raps at the Door.--The Scene changes.--Final Wind-up.
Aunt Graves had not got warm in her seat as mistress of Squire Longbow'shousehold, when she found half of the female portion of Puddleford upon herin full cry. The Swipeses, and the Beagles, and Birds, who were veryjealous of the sudden elevation of the old spinster, gave her no peacenight nor day. They had seen the time when she looked up to them, and nowshe was the wife of a Squire--had taken good old Mrs. Longbow's place, and"really," as they said, "tried to lord it over them."
Mrs. Bird went all the way in the rain, mud over shoe, to inform Mrs.Beagle "that she warn't a-goin' to stand it any longer; _she_'d seenenough, and if other people were a-mind to blind their eyes, theymight--she guessed she know'd what was what--she warn't brought into theworld for nothin'--they might humbug her if they could--she only wished oldMrs. Longbow could jist rise from her grave--jist _once_--that's all shewould ask--she'd make a scatterin' among the dry bones--jist to think--tothink--"
"What!" exclaimed Mrs. Beagle, who stood waiting for the climax, with hermouth wide open, holding her dish-cloth in her hand.
"What?--what"--repeated Mrs. Bird, "you may well say what--that Longbowwoman abuses little Elvira Julia Longbow like sixty--the _dar_lingcreature--how my heart bleeds. That child," continued Mrs. Bird, puttingdown each word in a measured way by striking her fist on the table--"thatchild--that dear--Elvira Julia--the idol--you know of her mother--and whata mother she had, too, Mrs. Beagle--O, _what_ a mother! That child isstarved! She don't get half enough to eat--I know it just as well as if thechild had told me so with her own lips. She looks puny-like. She didn'thold up her head in church all sarvice time, last Sunday--how my heartached for her--I couldn't think of nothin' else--and to think--to _think_,Mrs. Beagle, that that woman who warn't nobody, and who'd come onto thetown if she hadn't fooled the old Squire, is now goin' to turn round andstarve his children. One thing I _do_ know, I shall never knuckle toher--not while my name is Bird--I'll let her know who Mrs. Bird is. She'llfind out that the Birds can hoe their own row--the Birds allers _have_liv'd, and will live, I guess, and they never were beholdin' to theLongbows, nuther. Starve a child!--and if she thinks I ever mean to knowher as anybody but old Poll Graves, she is most grandly mistaken. I'll jisttell her who old Graves, her father, was, and what he was, and how he usedto drink, the old brute. She knows it all--but she thinks Mrs. Bird forgetssuch things--but Mrs. Bird don't forget such things--she has a longmemory--and her mother warn't none _too_ good, nuther--I could touch her upa little on that. Starve a child! Lord-a-massey, I s'pose she thinks she isthe queen of Puddleford, now, and can do as she has a mind-ter. If shedon't run agin a snag some day, then call Sally Bird a liar, that's all.Pride must have its fall, Mrs. Beagle;" and here Mrs. Bird took the firstlong breath, after entering the house.
"How--you--do--talk!" ejaculated Mrs. Beagle, her eyes half started fromher head. "I'd thought just as much, but dare not say so."
"Darsen't! darsen't!" popped Mrs. Bird, "Well, thank the Lord, _I_ dare;I'll pull down the whole Longbow nest around her ears; I'll complain to thetown officers; I'll have her taken up, and then let her show her hand; tothink that the child of that dear, good woman we lov'd so much, should bestarved! And that ain't all: old Longbow is one of the most miserablest menlivin'; he don't have a minute's peace day _nor_ night; he rolls andtumbles, and talks to himself--thinks, in his dreams, that his former wifeis back agin, and he talks to her jest as if she was; he hain't had a fullmeal for a mouth. She is the _stin_giest of all mortals! She liv'd onnothin' afore she was married--why she counts the very coffee kernels sheuses--she allers was afraid of goin' to the poor-house--pity she hadn't-ergone--but la-sa-me, you can't get one of the Longbows to say a word aboutit--they are as whist as mice--fairly caught--less said the better, youknow--they are so everlastin' etarnal proud, the hull pack on 'em would diebefore they'd let anything out--but they can't deceive Mrs. Bird--murderwill out--starve a child!" and here Mrs. Bird took another long breath.
Mrs. Beagle looked still wilder, if possible, than before. But she was avery cautious woman, as has been seen. There was a method in _her_ malice."She had thought for a long time," she said, "that affairs were allwrong-end-foremost at the Longbows. _She_ could see some things too. Butshe didn't want to say a word agin nobody. She had allers tried to be a_keer_ful woman--and she _was_ a keerful woman--and although she said it,who had not orter say it, she was a keerful woman. She tried to live inpeace and Christian charity with everybody--and she would put up withenymost anything rather than to have hard feelings 'gin anybody. She hadallers been a friend of Mrs. Longbow, and was really glad when she heardshe had at last got married, for she _did_ think she would make a goodwife--she had orter, for Squire Longbow had been the makin' on her, and hadset her up in the world for _sum_thin'--but things warn't-er a-goin' right,that she know'd, and had know'd it for a long time; the old Squire lookedas _cowed_-like as if he'd give all his old shoes to see his old wife backagin--he didn't look so chirck as he used to do--but then she didn'twant-er say nothin' about it, for there was one thing she didn't do--shedidn't talk about her neighbors--if there was any kind of people that she_did_ hate, it was the slanderers--she never slandered nobody--but sheallers did know that Mrs. Longbow was tighter than bark to a tree--she usedto jest keep soul and body together 'fore she married--a leetle _too_ tightto be honest--there wern't no slander in that--she hadn't said she _was_dishonest, nor she warn't a-goin' to say it--she would skin a copper theclosest of anybody she ever see'd; such people _can't be_ honest--they willcheat in the dark--not that she meant to say that Mrs. Longbow _would_cheat--she slandered nobody--but the child _did_ look _half_-starved, andanybody could see it with one eye, and you can't learn old dogs newtricks--what's bred in the bone stays there--and the old Squire's darter,Livinny, looks like death, too--she's lost a _mother_, and it'll be a longtime before that woman will fill _her_ place--this is between you and me,Mrs. Bird--'twarn't no longer than t'other day that Mrs. Swipes told methat old Longbow wanted to marry Mary Jane Arabella, but Mrs. Swipes saidshe jest put her foot down and said No! and he's been _cross_-grained ather ever since. Well--well--so it goes."
Aunt Sonora dropped in "to take a breath," as she said. Mrs. Bird and Mrs.Beagle had to repeat to her the new developments in the Longbow family,with some new additions.
Aunt Sonora said she never did have any faith in second wives. "Dependupon't," said the old lady, "no good comes out on 'em. And the old maidswere the _very_ worst on 'em all. They were the awfullest dead-settestpeople she ever know'd. They _will_ have their way. They allers rule theroost. She guessed that her old man knew when he was well off. He hatedsecond marriages like pizen."
Finally, the women, after exhausting themselves, all agreed to adjourn tothe house of Mrs. Swipes, to see what could be done to improve the domesticarrangements of the Longbow family. Mrs. Bird said at first she wouldn'tmove an inch, to see Mrs. Swipes or anybody else, for it wasn't nobusiness of her'n, but then she know'd that, if it was _her_ child, and_she_ was dead, and Mrs. Longbow wasn't dead, Mrs. Longbow would do just asshe did.
Mrs. Swipes was delighted to see such a crowd of her friends, but declared"she couldn't for the life of her tell what was up."
By the time the "ladies" had arrived at the house of Mrs. Swipes, they werevery highly charged with electricity. They had lashed themselves into avery respectable sort of fury. Even Aunt Sonora, amiable as she was,muttered to herself, while crossing the road--"Starve a child!"
Nobody ever told Mrs. Swipes any news--that was not possible--she hadalways heard of it, seen it, or expected it; the
most astoundingdevelopment was no more than she had "allers known would come about." Therewas no story so large that it was unexpected, or beyond her power to add alittle to it--no black so black, that she couldn't make it a littleblacker--no slander so public, but that she had heard a little more thanher neighbors of it. A piece of scandal melted like sugar in her mouth, andit seemed to send a glow over her whole being while she digested it; itbraced her up for a whole day, and carried her through the most fierydomestic trials--no story, therefore, ever lost strength or sting while inher keeping--it gathered weight and power like a snowball--she paid it outwith interest. Her husband, Zeb Swipes, she didn't like, for he did notcare a pin about his neighbors, "'specially the women folks," as he said;and Mrs. Swipes declared she never could interest him in the wickedness ofthe place. Many a time she had talked him to sleep, flaring, and foaming,and fretting about Puddleford.
When Mrs. Bird, and Beagle, and Aunt Sonora entered Mrs. Swipes's room, theclap burst at once from the whole delegation.
"Don't you think!" exclaimed Mrs. Bird.
"Did you ever!" snapped Mrs. Beagle.
"Pretty doin's these!" chimed in Aunt Sonora.
"That _that_ thing!"--"that Longbow woman," continued Mrs. Bird.
"Starve!" added Mrs. Beagle.
"Yes, starve!" repeated Mrs. Bird.
"A child!" groaned Aunt Sonora.
"Yes, a child!" gasped Mrs. Bird.
"And to think!" said Mrs. Beagle.
"Yes, to think!" said Mrs. Bird.
"_Only_ to think!" repeated Aunt Sonora.
"That," continued Mrs. Beagle.
"Yes, _that_," said Aunt Sonora.
"What she was," said Mrs. Beagle.
"Only--jest--to--think," screamed Mrs. Bird.
"Nobody," continued Mrs. Beagle.
"Nobody at _all_!" snapped Mrs. Bird.
"But"--said Mrs. Beagle.
"But what?" inquired Mrs. Bird.
"_But--old--Poll--Graves!_" screamed the whole three together.
"Hadn't the second gown to her back," added Mrs. Bird.
"Foller'd sowing, too, for a livin'," hinted Mrs. Beagle.
"And glad enough to get it, too," sputtered Mrs. Bird.
"Couldn't-er worn Squire Longbow's old shoes, then," said Mrs. Beagle.
"And now she puts on more ker-ink-tums than the governor's darter," spitout Mrs. Bird.
"Starve a child!" exclaimed another.
"Yes, starve a child!" chimed in all the rest, in a most furious tone ofmalicious spite that almost raised the roof. When the storm had spentitself on the head of Mrs. Swipes, who stood it with philosophy, for sheliked it, all hands "set in" to tell her of the barbarous cruelty of Mrs.Longbow.
Mrs. Swipes replied, "that nothin' more could have been expected onher--old Longbow might-er known she'd-er taken the very hide off on him,and off all on 'em--if _he_ didn't know what Poll Graves was, then it was_his_ fault; if he hadn't liv'd long-er enough in this community to find_her_ out, then the old fool ought-er suffer--good 'nough for him. He triedto get our Mary Jane Arabella, 'fore he went arter _her_--but I let himknow that _I_ was the mother of that gal. He found that Mrs. Swipes had aword to say, and it took _me_ to send the old codger adrift--it jest did.It's 'nough to make one's blood run cold to see the highty-tighty airs thatwoman puts on. Last Sunday she had on all of old Mrs. dead and goneLongbow's finery-finery--that _bun_nit, the very same that she bought atWhistle and Sharp's store--price, twenty shillings and sixpence--bought itnot mor'n two weeks afore she died. That drab of her'n, you know; the deargood woman never worn it mor'n onct or twict, 'tended Deacon Pettibone'sfuneral with it, I remember--that very same _bun_nit, and she had it on;and she had on, at the same time, old Mrs. Longbow's gown, and shawl too;and she did _come_--_a_--sailing right inter church, jest as if she waslord of the manor! I thought old Mrs. Longbow had rose from her grave, andI shed tears on the spot. It made my blood run cold. Thinks I to myself,old critter, if Mrs. Longbow should jest come back agin, she'd make _you_scatter, she would--she'd tear them clothes off on you--she'd let you knowwhere your place was; she'd learn _you_ to dress up inter _her_ clothes.You'd rue the day you ever tried that game with her. Starve a child? Why,of course she will; anybody that don't care nothin' 'bout dead folksesclothes don't care nothin' 'bout folkses children."
At this point, the whole pack made another dead set at Mrs. Longbow, withthe exception of Aunt Sonora, who sat rocking violently, and taking snuff.It is impossible to repeat the jargon that made up the hurly-burly thatfollowed. All the troop were firing together, all kinds of shot, andepithets, and sentences were violently broken up into fragments by eachother, and hurled in a mass at Mrs. Longbow's head with the hottestvengeance.
It might have looked something like the following: "Nobody!" "Who cares!""I'll let her!" "Just to think!" "Starve!" "Yes, starve!" "A child!" "Thatnew bonnit!" "Twenty shillings!" "Sowed for a livin'!" "And sixpence!""Yes, and sixpence!" "Right in church!" "Hardly cold in!" "The poor child!""And gown, too!" "Her grave!" "Hardly cold in her grave!" "Marry!" "Was aspoor!" "Marry my Mary!" "As poor as Job's!" "Marry my Mary Jane Arabella!""Was as poor as Job's turkey!" "I can see!" "I only wish!" "I can see howit!" "I only wish old Mrs. Longbow could!" "Goes!" "Rise from her!""Starve!" "Grave!" "I'll complain!" "I wonder!" "To the town!" "If shethinks!" "Starve!" "I'll knuckle!" "A child!" "To her!" "Poll!" "No!""Old!" "Not as long as my--" "Poll!" "Name is--" "Graves!" "Bird!"
There was a rap at the door, and the uproar ceased, and the vixens weremagnetized as instantaneously and as completely as if they had all beenstricken with palsy, and their tongues fastened to the roofs of theirmouths.
Mrs. Swipes put on a smile, and courtesied to the door, opened it, andthere stood Mrs. Longbow!
"Good after_noon_, Mrs. Longbow. Well, I do declare!" exclaimed Mrs.Swipes, putting on one of her blandest faces, "you have raaly got out atlast. It warn't no longer than this very morning that Swipes and I werewondering what had become of you. Swipes said he know'd you must be sick,but I told Swipes you had so many cares--we women folks _have_ so manycares, Mrs. Longbow. And who do you think is here?--Mrs. Bird, and Mrs.Beagle, and Aunt Sonora--and we were jest a-talkin' 'bout you--and we allwonder'd how you did manage to get along so well in your family;" and afterMrs. Swipes had chatted and bowed Mrs. Longbow through the hall, Mrs.Longbow was introduced to the nest of hornets which had just been buzzingso unconsciously about her ears.
"Why--Mrs. Longbow!" cracked Mrs. Bird's voice at the same time, jumpingfrom her chair with a convulsive jerk, and grasping her hand, andimprinting a kiss upon her. "You have--done it--now--you have come out atlast. Goin' to call at our house, I s'pose. Let me see--it's one,two--yes--three weeks since you've show'd your face, Mrs. Longbow--lookin'as bright as a spring mornin', I see."
"All-er that," said Mrs. Beagle.
"But then you have had so much to do," continued Mrs. Bird; "the Squire'shouse had got inter an awful muss while he was a wid'wer. Lavinnydidn't--know--how--to--do--but the people say that it shines like a pinknow--and how you _have_ spruc'd up the children--I didn't hardly knowElvira Julia last Sunday. I thought her mother had come back agin."
"She looked _so_ happy!" exclaimed Mrs. Beagle.
"And the old Squire begins to hold up _his_ head agin, like _some_body,"added Aunt Sonora.
"Nothin' like a _woman_ in a house," chimed in Mrs. Swipes.
"Nothin' like it," said Aunt Sonora.
"Everything goes to loose ends where there ain't no woman," said Mrs. Bird.
"Jest look at old Fluett's house," said Aunt Sonora; "'tis chaos comeagin--woman gone--everything spilt from garret to cellar."
"And jest so at Dobbins," added Mrs. Bird.
"I do raaly b'lieve," said Mrs. Beagle, "that if Longbow had put offgettin' him a woman six months longer, he'd a brok't down."
"Jest what the old man himself said," added Mrs. Bird.
"And--then--to--think," drawled out Mrs. Swipes, "that he should have beens
o fort'nit."
"Might-er tried a hundred times," said Mrs. Bird.
"And got bit," said Mrs. Swipes.
"Yes, and got bit," repeated Mrs. Bird. "There was a kind-er Providence init. There _cer_tainly was."
"Jest what Parson Bigelow said," added Aunt Sonora; "he said he could seethe hand-er Providence inter it, jest as plain as he wanted to."
"Strange world," said Mrs. Beagle.
"Full-er sorrow," said Mrs. Bird.
"Never know when it's comin'," added Aunt Sonora.
"The only way's to be ready for't, and do our duty," said Mrs. Swipes.
Thus the conversation ran on. Mrs. Longbow supposed herself looked upon asa martyr by the crowd of "friends" among whom she had unconsciously fallen,and felt almost crushed by the weight of sympathy which they had sogratuitously thrust upon her; and finishing her call, returned to herdomestic labors with a lighter heart, and a satisfied conscience, whilethose she left behind her, on her departure, took the advantage of herabsence to completely finish up the remainder of the woman's reputation.