The Preacher of Cedar Mountain: A Tale of the Open Country
CHAPTER XVI
The New Insurance Agents
Woman's suffrage was a disturbing question in the West of the '80's andit had not by any means passed Cedar Mountain by. There was more thanone fiery dispute among the "perchers" of Shives's shop, where Jim wasvery fond of dropping in. Indeed the smithy was the public forum of thetown.
Hartigan had very strong views, of the oldest and most conservativetype, on the sphere of woman--notwithstanding the fact that his motherhad been the capable leader of men. He did not say much about this; buthe assumed that the absence of his father was the sole cause of hismother's dominance. He was fond of quoting St. Paul: "Let your womenkeep silence in the churches ... it is a shame for women to speak in thechurch" (I Cor. XIV:34-35), and from this he argued that silence waswoman's only duty in all public matters of administration, because itaccorded with her limitations.
Shives, being twice as old, was much less certain. He could citeCleopatra, Catherine of Russia, Catherine de' Medici, and other familiarnames to prove the woman's power; to which Hartigan replied:
"And a fine moral lot they were! Was ever power put to more devilishuse?"
This was a jibe and not an answer. But it caused a laugh, and thatalways counts in debate. Then, with singular blindness to the fact thathe himself was at the time being guided by a certain young woman, Jimissued his challenge:
"If you can show me a couple that started fair and square together onequal footing and didn't end with the man as head and leader ineverything to do with fighting the battle of life, I'll give in--I'mlicked."
Two mornings later, Dr. Carson was standing outside his office door,when he heard a quick stride on the boardwalk and the gay voice of thePreacher singing "Roy's Wife of Aldivallock."
"The top of the morning to ye, Doc," was his cheery greeting; and thedoctor answered:
"Say, Jim, come here. I've got a good one for you. This is a brand-newone." They walked down the boardwalk to the place where most of theoffices were and there read on a newly placed signboard the legend:
"John and Hannah Higginbotham, Insurance Agents."
"How is that?" said Carson, as he lit a cigar.
"Well, I'll be--surprised," was the answer.
As Jim looked in astonishment the door was opened and a dapper littleman with a fuzzy red beard appeared.
"Good morning, gentlemen, good morning!" he said, in a perfectly goodYankee twang. "Can I do anything for you to-day in my line? Step in,gentlemen; I'm John Higginbotham." They entered and, behind the desk,sighted a stout woman of medium size, middle age, and moderately goodappearance.
"Hannah, these are two of our fellow townsfolk, calling. Excuse me,gentlemen, I didn't get your names." He was enlightened and prattled on:"Oh, Reverend Hartigan and Dr. Carson. Good! Healing for the body andhealing for the soul, and my healing is for the estate--happy trinity,isn't it? Sit down, gentlemen."
"Can we do anything for you in our line?" said the buxom lady behind thedesk, in a strong, deep voice; and now Jim noticed for the first timeher square jaw and her keen eye that brightened as she spoke.
"Not at present, thank you," said Jim. "We are merely making aneighbourly call."
"The fact is," said Dr. Carson, "the thing that stopped us this morningwas your new signboard."
"There! There! I told you so; I told you it was good business," said thelittle man. "The first thing in commerce is to have a good article andthe next is to win the attention of the public. I felt sure it was agood move."
"You've got the attention of the whole town at one stroke," said Carson."If you have the wares to follow it up----"
"Wares! My company is The Merchants' Mutual. It is the----"
Realizing that he had injudiciously turned on a hydrant, Carson saidheartily:
"Oh, yes, yes; of course; I should have known. Why, every one knows thatThe Merchants' Mutual is one of _the_ companies. How did you come in, byrail or by the trail?"
At this point, Hannah rose and, passing out of the door, gave amomentary glimpse of a kitchen stove with pots and kettles boiling.
John smiled blandly, raised a flat hand with an oratorical gesture:
"Ah, that is an important question, and bears directly on the signboard.You see, we came from Bootlebury, Massachusetts. Hannah's father wasquite a man in that town, and I worked my way up till I had a littleinsurance office of my own and married Hannah. Well" (he didn't say"well" and he didn't say "wall," but there isn't any in-between way tospell it aright), "if I'd got all the insurance business in Bootlebury,it would not have been horses and cushions, but I didn't get half of it,and Hannah says, 'John, I think we'd getter go out West,' for, somehow,she didn't want to stay in a place where folks said she'd had a 'comedown.'
"We'd had about ten years of it, and I had just about come to her way ofthinking when her dad died and left her quite well fixed. An' Hannah shehad quite an eye to biz; she worked at my office desk as much as she didat the cook stove; an' now she says to me, 'Here is where we get out.'
"Every one was talking about the Black Hills then, and that was why weheaded this way. Well, we figured out that the railway fares from St.Louis 'round to Sidney and north to the Hills were so much higher thanthe steamboat fare from St. Louis to Pierre, that we could save enoughto buy a team of ponies and a buckboard at Pierre, and then cross thePlains with the settlers going in and be ahead by the value of the team,which would be needed in our country business anyhow."
"Time didn't count?" interrupted Carson.
"Not much; and we wanted to see the country."
"By George! I wish I'd been with ye," said Jim. "If only it had been asaddle trip it would have been perfect."
"Perfect!" exclaimed the little man; "I wish you could have seen us. Thefarther we went up that endless river of mud the worse it seemed; andwhen we landed at Pierre it did seem the last of all creation.
"I didn't have much heart to buy the ponies, but Hannah kept with me andnever once seemed to feel discouraged. But when we crossed the riverwith our outfit and really set out on the blank, bleak plains, I tellye, we felt heart-sick, sore, and lonesome--at least, I did."
At this moment Hannah came in from the kitchen and took the lead inconversation.
"Has John been giving you an outline of our policy in the matter oflapsing premiums and residuary annuities?"
"Now, Hannah," replied John, "I think that is a little too much likebusiness for friendly callers."
"Business is always in order in the office," was Hannah's retort.
"I understand," said John, "that the Methodists are very strong in CedarMountain."
"Well, we think so," answered Hartigan.
"Good," said Higginbotham. "I have always felt that it was wisest toassociate myself with the church that was spiritually strongest. I amnot in sympathy with narrow views." He did not mention the fact that inBootlebury he had associated himself with the Unitarians for the samereason.
A loud sizzling in the next room caused Hannah to spring up heavily andreturn to the kitchen.
Jim was more interested in their venturesome trip across the Plains thanin reasons for doctrinal affiliation, and he steered the conversation bysaying:
"How did you come out on the Plains trip?"
And John bubbled on with a mixture of fun, pathos, and frank admirationfor his wife that appealed strongly to both hearers. His gift oflanguage was copious without being varied or clever, but his homelyphrases carried the thought.
"I'll not forget the morning of our journey. It was raining by thebucketfuls. 'Well,' says I, 'for a semi-arid country this is goingsome'; and I felt so homesick and sore, I said, 'Hannah, let's not goany farther'; and Hannah she just looked at me and said, 'See here,John, I've come out so far to go to the Black Hills and I'm going.'Then, when the weather let up a little, we started out; and, after acouple of hours we stuck in a muddy creek and were all day gettingacross. Next day a couple more gullies just as bad, and the rain camedown till ever hole in the prairie was a pond; and I tell
you I wishedI'd bought a boat instead of the buckboard. And the mosquitoes, oh, my!Well, we floundered around about three days and got all our stuff wetand half spoiled. Then we found we'd missed the way and had to flounderthree days back again. I tell you, I felt pretty much discouraged. Thenwe saw something a-coming. It turned out to be a settler going back. Hesaid there was nothing but pond holes and bogs, the mosquitoes wereawful, the boom was bust, and the Sioux on the war path. I felt prettysick. That was a finisher; and when that man says, 'You better come backwith us,' I was for going. But Hannah, she just boiled up and she says,'John Higginbotham, if you want to go back with that bunch ofchicken-hearts, you can go. I'm going to the Black Hills, if I have togo alone.' I tried to make her see it my way, but she got into thebuckboard, gathered up the reins, and headed for the West. I had to getin behind as best I could. We didn't talk much. We weren't on speakingterms that day; and, at night, as we sat eating supper, it started toraining worse'n ever, and I says, 'I wish we'd gone back.'
"'I don't,' she snapped, an' we never spoke till the morning.
"Then she called me to breakfast. I tell you, I never saw such a change.The sun was up and the sky was clear. In a little while, we were out ofthe sloughs and had no mosquitoes. Then we got a bad shake. A band ofhorsemen came riding right at us. But they turned out to be U. S.cavalrymen. They put us right on the road, and told us the Indian scarewas just fool talk, and had nothing back of it. After that, all wentfine and in two days we were in the Hills.
"I tell you, I felt different as we stood there at our last campfire,and I says, 'Hannah, you're a wonder. You are the best of the outfit. Itwas your money we started on. It was your grit kept me going on when Iwas for quitting, and you are in every deal I make. You bet I'll let theworld know we are partners.' So that's why that signboard went up. Not abad ad I reckon, for no one sees it without taking notice; so, ifthere's anything in our line you need, let me know."
As Carson and Hartigan walked down the street, the doctor said: "Well,what do you think of Woman Suffrage now?"
Hartigan shrugged his big shoulders, gave a comical glance back at thesignboard, and replied:
"You've got me!"
It was indeed a poser for Jim; a shock to a deep-set prejudice.Notwithstanding the fact that his mother had been a woman of power, theunquestioned and able head in a community of men, he had unconsciouslyclung to the old idea of woman's mental inferiority. In college he hadhad that notion bolstered up with Scripture texts and alleged Christiandoctrine.
This was not the time or place, he felt, to discuss the principle of it,and his natural delicacy would, in any case, have kept him from a freeexpression; but later, in the blacksmith shop, that neutral territory offree speech, they had it out. Higginbotham was there and was ready andable to fight with Scriptural weapons. He pointed out that all the textsquoted, such as: "Wives be in subjection to your own husbands ineverything, etc.," were from St. Paul, who was believed to have had apainful history in such matters; whereas, St. Peter, admittedly a farbetter authority, said: "Likewise, ye husbands, dwell with them, givinghonour to the wife."
"Which may or may not be sound doctrine," said John, "but I know my wifebrought me out here, it was her capital that set me up, she has a handin all business, so why not say so on the signboard?"
Cedar Mountain had its fill of fun and there were many venerable jokesabout "wearing the pants" and others about a spelling of "hen-pecked.""Wasn't it 'Hannah-pecked' now?" And some there were, even women, whocondemned the innovation as godless; but all of these hostile commentsdied away when folk came to know the pair and realize how justly theywere represented on the signboard: "John and Hannah Higginbotham,Insurance Agents."