THE TOWN MEETING.
The next day was Friday. After breakfast Quincy went to his room and looked over the memorandum pad upon which he had taken pleasure in jotting down the various items of his campaign against the singing-master. As he looked at the pad he checked off the items that he had attended to, but suddenly started back with an expression of disgust.
"Confound it," said he, "I neglected to telegraph to those congressmen when I was at Eastborough Centre last Tuesday. I hope I'm not too late." He reflected for a moment, then said to himself, "No, it's all right; this is the long session, and my friends will be in Washington."
He immediately wrote two letters to his Congressional friends, stating that he had good reasons for having the appointment of Obadiah Strout as postmaster at Mason's Corner, Mass., held up for a week.
"At the end of that time," he wrote, "I will either withdraw my objections or present them in detail, accompanied by affidavits in opposition to the appointment."
Having finished the letters, he went downstairs to the kitchen, and, as usual, found Hiram engaged in conversation with Mandy.
"You are just the man I want," said he to Hiram; "I would like to have you take these letters to the Mason's Corner post office and mail them at once. You can tell Mr. Hill that the papers relating to the store are nearly ready, and if he and his son will come here this afternoon we will execute them. I would like to have you and Mr. Pettengill on hand as witnesses."
Hiram started off on his mission, and Quincy returned to his room and busied himself with the preparation of the documents for the transfer of the grocery store, and the making out of the necessary notes to cover the twenty-five hundred dollars due for the same.
He had not seen Alice at breakfast, nor did she appear at the dinner table. He had followed the rule since she came to the house not to make any open inquiries about her health, but from words dropped by Ezekiel and Uncle Ike, he had kept fairly well informed as to the result of her treatment. At dinner Ezekiel remarked that his sister had commenced to take her new medicine, and that he reckoned it must be purty powerful, for she had said that she didn't wish anything to eat, and didn't want anything sent to her room.
Quincy politely expressed his regrets at her indisposition and trusted that she would soon be able to join them again at meal time.
About three o'clock in the afternoon, Samuel Hill and his father arrived, and Hiram, remembering Quincy's instructions, had found Ezekiel Pettengill, and all came to the room together. It took a comparatively short time to sign, seal, and deliver the documents and papers. It was arranged that Samuel Hill and his father should take charge of the grocery store and carry on the business until a week from the following Monday; as Quincy told young Hill that he had some business to attend to the early part of the following week that would prevent his giving any attention to the store until the latter part of the week.
Quincy treated his principals and witnesses to cigars, and an interchange of ideas was made in relation to the result of the auction sale.
"How does Strout take it?" inquired Quincy.
"I don't know," spoke up Hiram. "He acts as though he thought I was pizen. Every time he sees me he crosses over on t'other side of the street, if we happen to be comin' towards each other."
"Well, I imagine," said Quincy, "that your usefulness to him has departed in some respects, but it's just as well."
"Well," said young Hill, "I can tell you what he said the other night in the grocery store. There was a crowd of his friends there, and he remarked that you," turning to Quincy, "might own Hill's grocery store, but that wasn't the whole earth. He said that he had no doubt that he would be elected unanimously as tax collector, and he was sure of his appointment as postmaster, and if he got it he should start another grocery store on his own hook and make it lively for you."
"Well," said Quincy with a laugh, "competition is the life of trade, and I sha'n't object if he does go into the business; but if he does, I will guarantee to undersell him on every article, and I will put on a couple of teams and hire a couple of men, and we'll scour Eastborough and Mason's Corner and Montrose for orders in the morning, and then we'll deliver all the goods by team in the afternoon in regular Boston style. I never knew just exactly what I was cut out for. I know I don't like studying law, and it may be, after all, that it's my destiny to become a grocery-man."
Quincy took Ezekiel by the arm, led him to the window, and whispered something to him.
Ezekiel laughed, then turned red in the face, then finally said in an undertone, "Waal, I dunno, seems kinder early, but I dunno but it jest as well might be then as any other time. I hain't got nuthin' ter do this afternoon, so I think I'll take a walk up there to see how the land lays."
He said, "Good afternoon" to the others and left the room.
Quincy then took Samuel Hill by the arm in the same manner as he had done to Ezekiel, led him to the window, and said something to him which wrought a similar effect to that produced upon Ezekiel.
Samuel thought for a moment and then said, "That ain't a bad idea; I'm satisfied if the other party is. I'm going to drive over this afternoon and tell the old gentleman that matters are all fixed up, and I'll find out if there's any objection to the plan. Guess I'll go now, as I've got to git back to-night."
So he said "Good afternoon," and, accompanied by his father, took his departure.
"Sit down, Hiram," said Quincy, "I want to have a talk with you. Have you settled up that little matter with Mandy?"
"No," said Hiram, "not yet; I've ben tryin' to muster up courage, but I haven't ben able to up to the present moment."
"I should think," remarked Quincy, "that a man who had carried his captain off the field with a shower of bullets raining about him, or who had pushed forward with his country's flag in the face of a similar storm of bullets, ought not to be afraid to ask a young girl to marry him."
"Waal, do yer know," said Hiram, "I'm more afraid o' Mandy than I would be of the whole army."
"Well," said Quincy, "I don't see any other way for you except to walk up like a man and meet your fate. Of course if I could do it for you I'd be willing to oblige you."
"No, thank yer," said Hiram, "I kinder reckon thet little matter had better be settled between the two principals in the case without callin' in a lawyer."
Quincy leaned over and whispered something to him.
"By crickey!" said Hiram, "what put thet idea inter yer head?"
"Oh," said Quincy, "since I've had to spend so much time plotting against my enemies, I've got into the habit of thinking out little surprises for my friends."
"Waal, I swan!" cried Hiram, "that would be the biggest thing ever happened in Mason's Corner. Well, I rather think I shall be able to tend to that matter now, at once. One, two, three," said Hiram, "just think of it; well, that's the biggest lark that I've ever ben connected with; beats buying the grocery store all holler."
"Well," continued Quincy, "you three gentlemen understand it now, and if matters can be arranged I will do my part, and I promise you all a grand send-off; but not a word of it must be breathed to outside parties, remember. It won't amount to anything unless its' a big surprise."
"All right," said Hiram, "I kinder reckon Sawyer's surprise party will be a bigger one than Strout's was."
"Oh," continued Hiram, "I 'most forgot. Mandy was up ter see her mother abeout thet room for thet man that's comin' down from Boston Monday night, and Mis' Hawkins says the price of the room is three dollars per week and the board fifty cents a day. Mandy paid for the room for a week, and Mis' Hawkins says after she takes out what the board comes to she'll give the balance back ter Mandy."
"That's all right," said Quincy, "I've heard from the man in Boston, and he'll surely occupy the room next Monday night. Mandy can tell her mother to have it all ready."
Next morning about ten o'clock, Abbott Smith drove over from Eastborough Centre, accompanied by his father and Wallace Stackpole. Quincy took his place beside Mr. Stackpole on the rear seat of the carryall, and Abbott drove off as though he intended to return to Eastborough Centre, but when he reached the crossroad he went through, then turning back towards Mason's Corner, drove on until he reached Deacon Mason's barn, following the same plan that Ezekiel had on the night of the surprise party.
They found the Deacon at home, and all adjourned to the parlor, where 'Bias Smith stated his business, which was to ask the Deacon to act as Moderator at the town meeting on the following Monday. The Deacon objected at first, but finally consented, after Mr. Smith had explained several matters to him.
"Yer know," said the Deacon, "my fellow citizens have tried on several occasions to have me run for selectman, but I reckoned thet I wuz too old to be out so late nights and have to drive home from Eastborough at ten or 'leven o'clock at night. Besides I've worked hard in my day, and there's no place I like so well as my own home. I'm alwus sorry to go away in the mornin' and alwus glad ter git home at night, and although I consider that every citizen ought ter do everything he can for the public good, I reckon thet there's a good many more anxious than I am to serve the town, and I'm not so consated but thet I think they know how ter do it better'n I could. But as that Moderator work comes in the daytime, as I stand ready to do all I can for my young friend here," turning towards Quincy, "I'll be on hand Monday mornin' and do the best I can to serve public and private interests at the same time."
Wallace Stackpole, while the others were talking, had taken a couple of newspapers from his pocket, and as Deacon Mason finished, he looted up and said, "There's an item here in the 'Eastborough Express,' Deacon, that I imagine you'll be interested in. I'll read it to you: 'We are informed on the best authority that Miss Huldy Mason, only daughter of Deacon Abraham Mason of Mason's Corner, is engaged to Mr. Ezekiel Pettengill. The day of the marriage has not been fixed, but our readers will be informed in due season.'"
"I'm afraid, Deacon," said Quincy, "that's all my fault. I met young Chisholm last Tuesday when I was over to the Centre, and he told me something that actually obliged me to confide in him the fact that I knew that your daughter was not likely to become Mrs. Obadiah Strout, but he promised me on his word of honor that he would not put it in the paper unless he got the same information from some other source."
The Deacon haw-hawed in good old-fashioned country style.
"Waal," said he, "young Chisholm tackled me, and said he heard a rumor abeout Huldy and Strout, and, as you say, Mr. Sawyer, he kinder 'bliged me to set him right. But he made me a promise, as he did you, thet he wouldn't say anythin' abeout it unless some other feller told him the same thing."
"That young man is sure to get ahead in the world; he buncoed us both, Deacon," said Quincy.
"Waal, I dunno as I know just what you mean by buncoed," said the Deacon, "but I kinder think he got the best of both on us on thet point."
As they took their places again in the carryall, Quincy said to Mr. Smith, "If you can drive to Mr. Pettengill's house and wait a few minutes, I think I'll go over to Eastborough Centre with you. I'm going to Boston this afternoon, and shall not be back again until Monday night."
This they consented to do, and after Quincy had obtained certain papers and had packed his travelling bag, he left word with Mandy that he would not be back to the house until Tuesday of the following week, and it might be Wednesday, as he was going to Boston to see his parents.
When they reached Eastborough Centre, Quincy went at once to the post office; there he found a short letter from Leopold Ernst. It read as follows:
"Dear Q:—
"Come up and see me as soon as you can; I shall be at home all day Sunday. Am ready to report on the stories, but have more to say than I have time to write.
Invariably thine,
Leopold Ernst."
Quincy then crossed the Square and entered the office of the "Eastborough Express." Sylvester flushed a little as Quincy came in, but the latter reassured him by extending his hand and shaking it heartily.
"Is the editor in?" asked Quincy.
"No," replied Sylvester, "he never shows up on Saturdays."
"Who is going to report the town meeting?" continued Quincy.
"I am," answered Sylvester. "The editor will be on hand, but he told me yesterday that he should depend on me to write the meeting up, because he had a little political work to attend to that would take all his time. He told me he was going over to see 'Bias Smith on Sunday, so I imagine that Mr. Smith and he are interested on the same side."
"Well, Mr. Chisholm," said Quincy, "you managed that little matter about Miss Mason's engagement so neatly that I have something for you to do for me. I'm going to Boston this afternoon, and shall not be back until half-past seven Monday night. I'm going over to see Mr. Parsons when I leave here, and shall arrange with him to supply all our boys with all they want to eat and drink next Monday."
"Well, the boys, as you call them, will be pretty apt to be hungry and thirsty next Monday," laughed Sylvester.
"That's all right," said Quincy, "I'll stand the bills."
"How's Parsons going to know which are our boys?" continued Chisholm. "They ought to have some kind of badge or some kind of a password, or your enemies, as well as your friends, will be eating up your provisions."
"That's what I want you to attend to," added Quincy. "I'll arrange with Parsons that if anybody gives him the letters B D on the quiet, he is to consider that they are on our side, and mustn't take any money from them, but chalk it up on my score. Now, I depend upon you, Mr. Chisholm, to give the password to the faithful, and to pay you for your time and trouble just take this."
And he passed a twenty-dollar bill to Sylvester. The latter drew back.
"No, Mr. Sawyer," said he, "I cannot take any money for that service. This work is to be done, for I understand the whole business, to defeat the man who, I think, has treated my sister in a very mean manner, and I'm willing to work all day and all night without any pay to knock that fellow out. Let's put it that way,—I'm working against him, and not for you; and, looking at it that way, of course, there's no reason why you should pay me anything."
"All right," rejoined Quincy, "I should have no feeling if you took the money, but I can appreciate your sentiments, and will have no feeling because you do not take it. One of these days I may be able to do as great a service for you, as you are willing to do for me between now and next Monday."
They shook hands and parted, and Quincy made his way to the Eagle Hotel, of which Mr. Seth Parsons was the proprietor. Mr. Parsons greeted him heartily and invited him into his private room. Here Quincy told the arrangement that he had made with young Chisholm, and gave him the password.
"Don't stint them," said Quincy, "let them have a good time; but don't let anybody know who pays for it. I shall be down on the half-past seven express, Monday night, and I would like to have a nice little dinner for eight or nine people ready in your private dining-room at eight o'clock. Mr. Tobias Smith knows who my guests are to be, and if I am delayed from any cause, he will tell you who are entitled to go in and eat the dinner."
The next train to Boston was due in ten minutes, and shaking hands with the hotel proprietor, he made his way quickly to the station. As he reached the platform he noticed that Abner Stiles was just driving away; the thought flashed through his mind that somebody from Mason's Corner was going to the city; but that was no uncommon event, and the thought passed from him.
He entered the car, and, to his surprise, found that it was filled; every seat in sight was taken. He walked forward and espied a seat near the farther end of the car. He noticed that a lady sat near the window; when he reached it he raised his hat, and leaning forward, said politely, "Is this seat taken?"
"No, sir," replied a pleasant, but somewhat sad voice, and he sank into the seat without further thought as to its other occupant.
When they reached the first station beyond Eastborough Centre he glanced out of the window, and as he did so, noticed that his companion was Miss Lindy Putnam.
"Why, Miss Putnam," cried he, turning towards her, "how could I be so ungallant as not to recognize you?"
"Well," replied Lindy, "perhaps it's just as well that you didn't; my thoughts were not very pleasant, and I should not have been a very entertaining companion."
"More trouble at home?" he inquired in a low voice.
"Yes," answered Lindy, in a choked voice, "since Mr. Putnam died it has been worse than ever. While he lived she had him to talk to; but now she insists on talking to me, and sends for me several times a day, ostensibly to do something for her, but really simply to get me in the room so she can talk over the old, old story, and say spiteful and hateful things to me. May Heaven pardon me for saying so, Mr. Sawyer, but I am thankful that it's nearly at an end."
"Why, what do you mean," asked Quincy, "is she worse?"
"Yes," said Lindy, "she is failing very rapidly physically, but her voice and mental powers are as strong as ever; in fact, I think she is more acute in her mind and sharper in her words than she has ever been before. Dr. Budd ordered some medicine that I could not get at the Centre, and so there was no way for me except to go to the city for it. Let me tell you now, Mr. Sawyer, something that I should have been obliged to write to you, if I had not seen you. I shall stay with Mrs. Putnam until she dies, for I promised Jones that I would, and I could never break any promise that I made to him; but the very moment that she's dead I shall leave the house and the town forever!"
"Shall you not stay to the funeral?" said Quincy; "what will the townspeople say?"
"I don't care what they say," rejoined Lindy, in a sharp tone; "she is not my mother, and I will not stay to the funeral and hypocritically mourn over her, when in my secret heart I shall be glad she is dead."
"Those are harsh words," said Quincy.
"Not one-tenth nor one-hundredth as harsh and unfeeling as those she has used to me," said Lindy. "No, my mind is made up; my trunks are all packed, and she will not be able to lock me in my room this time. I shall leave town by the first train after her death, and Eastborough will never see me nor hear from me again."
"But how about your friends," asked Quincy, "supposing that I should find out something that would be of interest to you; supposing that I should get some information that might lead to the discovery of your real parents, how could I find you?"
"Well," replied Lindy, "if you will give me your promise that you will not disclose to any one what I am going to say, I will tell you how to find me."
"You have my word," replied Quincy.
"Well," answered Lindy, "I'm going to New York! I would tell you where, but I don't know. But if you wish to find me at any time advertise in the Personal Column of the 'New York Herald'; address it to Linda, and sign it Eastborough," said she, after a moment's thought. "I shall drop the name of Putnam when I arrive in New York, but what name I shall take I have not yet decided upon; it will depend upon circumstances. But I shall have the 'New York Herald' every day, and if you advertise for me I shall be sure to see it."
She then relapsed into silence, and Quincy forbore to speak any more, as he saw she was busy with her own thoughts. They soon reached the city and parted at the door of the station. She gave him her hand, and as he held it in his for a moment, he said, "Good-by, Miss Linda." She thanked him for not saying "Miss Putnam" with a glance of her eyes. "I may not see you again, but you may depend upon me. If I hear of anything that will help you in your search for your parents, my time shall be given to the matter, and I will communicate with you at the earliest moment. Good-by."
He raised his hat and they parted.
Town Meeting Day proved to be a bright and pleasant one. At nine o'clock the Town Hall was filled with the citizens of Eastborough. They had come from the Centre, they had come from West Eastborough and from Mason's Corner. There were very nearly four hundred gathered upon the floor, the majority of them being horny-handed sons of toil, or, more properly speaking, independent New England farmers.
When Jeremiah Spinney, the oldest man in town, who had reached the age of ninety-two, and who declared that he hadn't "missed a town meetin' for seventy year," called the meeting to order, a hush fell upon the assemblage. In a cracked, but still distinct voice, he called for a nomination for Moderator of the meeting. Abraham Mason's name, of Mason's Corner, was the only one presented. The choice was by acclamation; for it was acknowledged on all sides that Deacon Mason was as square a man as there was in town.
The newly-elected Moderator took the chair and called upon the clerk to read the warrant for the meeting. This was soon done, and the transaction of the town's business begun in earnest. It will be, of course, impossible and unnecessary to give a complete and connected account of all that took place in town meeting on that day. For such an account the trader is referred to the columns of the "Eastborough Express," for it was afterwards acknowledged on all sides that the account of the meeting written by Mr. Sylvester Chisholm was the most graphic and comprehensive that had ever appeared in that paper. We have to do only with those items in the warrant that related directly or indirectly to those residents of the town with whom we are interested.
When the question of appropriating a certain sum for the support of the town Almshouse was reached, Obadiah Strout sprang to his feet and called out, "Mister Moderator," in a loud voice. He was recognized, and addressed the chair as follows:
"Mister Moderator, before a vote is taken on the questions of appropriatin' for the support of the town poor, I wish to call the attention of my fellow-citizens to a matter that has come to my knowledge durin' the past year. A short time ago a man who had been a town charge for more than three years, and whose funeral expenses were paid by the town, was discovered by me to be the only brother of a man livin' in Boston, who is said to be worth a million dollars. A very strange circumstance was that the son of this wealthy man, and a nephew of this town pauper, has been livin' in this town for several months, and spendin' his money in every way that he could think of to attract attention, but it never occurred to him that he could have used his money to better advantage if he had taken some of it and paid it to the town for takin' care of his uncle. These facts are well known to many of us here, and I move that a ballot—"
Tobias Smith had been fidgeting uneasily in his seat while Strout was speaking, and when he mentioned the word "ballot," he could restrain himself no longer, but jumped to Bids feet and called out in his stentorian voice, "Mister Moderator, I rise to a question of privilege."
"I have the floor," shouted Strout, "and I wish to finish my remarks. This is only an attempt of the opposition to shut me off. I demand to be heard!"
"Mister Moderator," screamed Abner Stiles, "I move that Mr. Strout be allowed to continue without further interruption."
The Moderator brought his gavel down on the table and called out, "Order, order." Then turning to Tobias, he said, "Mr. Smith, state your question of privilege."
Strout sank into his seat, his face livid with passion; turning to Stiles, he said, "This is all cooked up between 'em. You know you told me you saw Smith and Stackpole and that city chap drivin' away from the Deacon's house last Saturday mornin'."
Stiles nodded his head and said, "I guess you're right."
Mr. Smith continued, "My question of privilege, Mister Moderator, is this: I desire to present it now, because when I've stated it, my fellow citizen," turning to Strout, "will find that it's unnecessary to make any motion in relation to the matter to which he has referred. I hold in my hand a letter from Mr. Quincy Adams Sawyer, whose father is the Hon. Nathaniel Sawyer of Boston, and whose uncle was Mr. James Sawyer, who died in the Eastborough Poorhouse several weeks ago. By conference with Mr. Waters, who is in charge of the Poorhouse, and with the Town Treasurer, he ascertained that the total expense to which the town of Eastborough has been put for the care of his uncle was four hundred and sixty-eight dollars and seventy-two cents. I hold his check for that sum, drawn to the order of the Town Treasurer, and certified to be good by the cashier of the Eastborough National Bank. He has requested me to offer this check to the town, and that a receipt for the same be given by the Town Treasurer."
Strout jumped to his feet.
"Mister Moderator, I am glad to learn," cried he, "that this son of a millionaire has had his heart touched and his conscience pricked by the kindness shown by the town of Eastborough to his uncle, and I move the check be accepted and a receipt given by the Town Treasurer, as requested."
"Second the motion!" called out Abner Stiles.
"Before puttin' the question," said the Moderator slowly, "I want to say a few words on this matter, and as it may be thought not just proper for me to speak from the chair, I will call upon the Rev. Caleb Howe to take the same durin' my remarks."
The well-known clergyman at Mason's Corner came forward, ascended the platform, took the chair, and recognized Deacon Mason's claim to be heard.
"I have heerd the motion to accept this check, an' I desire ter say thet I am teetotally opposed to the town's takin' this money. If the Honorable Nathaniel Sawyer, who's the dead man's brother, or Mr. Quincy Adams Sawyer, who's his nephew, had known that he wuz a pauper, they would 'er relieved the town of any further charge. We hev no legal claim agin either of these two gentlemen. Our claim is agin ther town of Amesbury, in which Mr. James Sawyer was a citizen and a taxpayer. If Mr. Quincy Adams Sawyer wishes to pay ther town of Amesbury after ther town of Amesbury has paid us, thet's his affair and none o' our business, but we've no legal right to accept a dollar from him, when our legal claim is agin the town in which he hed a settlement, and I hope this motion will not prevail."
As Deacon Mason regained the platform loud cries of "Vote! Vote! Vote!" came from all parts of the hall.
Tellers were appointed, and in a few moments the result of the vote was announced. In favor of Mr. Strout's motion to accept the check, eighty-five. Opposed, two hundred and eighty. And it was not a vote.
"We will now proceed," said the Moderator, as he resumed the chair, "to consider the question of appropriating money for the support of the Poor-farm."
The next matter on the warrant of general interest was the appropriation of a small sum of money to purchase some reference books for the town library, which consisted of but a few hundred volumes stowed away in a badly-lighted and poorly-ventilated room on the upper floor of the Town Hall.
This question brought to his feet Zachariah Butterfield, who was looked upon as the watchdog of the town treasury. He had not supported Strout on the question of accepting the check, because he knew the position taken by the Moderator was legally correct, and he was very careful in opposing appropriations to attack only those where, as it seemed to him, he had a good show of carrying his point. He had been successful so often, that with him success was a duty, for he had a reputation to maintain.
"Mister Moderator," he said, "I'm agin appropriatin' any more money for this 'ere town lib'ry. We hev got plenty of schoolbooks in our schools; we hev got plenty of books and newspapers in our houses, and it's my opinion thet those people who spend their time crawlin' up three flights er stairs and readin' those books had better be tillin' ther soil, poundin' on ther anvil, or catchin fish. Neow, I wuz talkin' with Miss Burpee, the librari'n, and she sez they want a new Wooster's Dictshuneery, 'cause ther old one iz all worn eout. Neow, I looked through the old one, and I couldn't see but what it's jest as good as ever; there may be a few pages missin', but what's thet amount ter when there's more'n a couple of thousan' on 'em left?"
Mr. Tobias Smith was again fidgeting in his seat. He evidently had something to say and was anxious to say it.
Mr. Butterfield continued: "Neow, to settle this question onct fer all, I make ther motion that this 'ere lib'ry be closed up and the librari'n discharged; she gits a dollar a week, and ther town ken use that fifty-two dollars a year, in my opinion, to better advantege."
"Mister Moderator," came again from Mr. Tobias Smith, "I rise to a question of privilege—"
Mr. Butterfield kept on talking: "Mister Moderator, this is not a question of privilege; this is a question of expenditure of money for a needless purpose. Yes, Mister Moderator, for a needless purpose."
Mr. Butterfield had evidently lost the thread of his discourse, and Mr. Smith, taking advantage of his temporary indecision, said, "I agree with the gentleman who has just spoken; I am in favor of closing up this musty, dusty old room, and saving the further expenditure of money upon it."
Mr. Butterfield, hearing these words, and not having sufficiently collected his thoughts to say anything himself, nodded approvingly and sank into his seat.
Mr. Smith continued, "I have a proposition to submit in relation to the town library. I hold in my hand a letter from Mr. Quincy Adams Sawyer, whose name has been previously mentioned—"
Mr. Strout jumped to his feet.
"Mister Moderator, I rise to a question of privilege."
"I second the motion!" cried Abner Stiles.
"State your question of privilege, Mr. Strout," said the Moderator.
"I wish to inquire," answered Strout, "if the time of this town meetin' is to be devoted to the legitimate business of the town, or is it to be fooled away in hearin' letters read from a person who is not a citizen of the town, and who is not entitled to be heard in this town meetin'?"
"Mister Moderator," said Mr. Smith, "I am a citizen of this town, and I'm entitled to be heard in this meeting, and the matter that I'm about to bring to the attention of this meeting is a most important one and affects the interests of the town materially. I consider that I have a right to read this letter or any other letter that relates to the question before the meeting, which is, 'Shall money be appropriated to buy books for what is called the town library?' I say NO; and my reason for this is contained in this letter, which I propose to read."
"Go on, Mr. Smith," said the Moderator.
"Well," continued Mr. Smith, "Mr. Quincy Adams Sawyer, in this letter, offers to the town of Eastborough the sum of five thousand dollars, to be used either for purchasing books and paying the expenses of a library to be located in the Town Hall; or a portion of the money may be used to build a suitable building, and the balance for the equipment and support of the library."
Mr. Butterfield was on his feet again.
"Mister Moderator, I'm agin acceptin' this donation. If we take it, we shall only jump out er the fryin-pan inter the fire; instead of buyin' a few books and payin' the librari'n a dollar a week, we shall hev to hev a jan'ter for the new buildin', and pay fer insurance, and we shell hev ter hev a librari'n ev'ry day in ther week, and by'm by the ungodly will want ter hev it open on a Sunday, so thet they kin hev a place to loaf in; and I'm agin the whole bizness teetotally. I've sed my say; neow, you kin go ahead, and do jest as you please."
This was Mr. Butterfield's usual wind-up to his arguments; but on this occasion it seemed to fail of its effect.
The Moderator said, "Was Mr. Butterfield's motion seconded?" There was no response. "Then the matter before the meeting is the question of appropriating money for the support of the town library."
"Mister Moderator," said Mr. Smith, "I move that the donation from Mr. Quincy Adams Sawyer be accepted, and that the library be named 'The Sawyer Free Public Library of the Town of Eastborough.'"
"Second the motion!" came from a hundred voices.
Strout was on his feet again.
"Mister Moderator," said he, "I move to amend the motion by havin' it read that we decline, that the town declines the donation without thanks."
A loud laugh arose from the assemblage.
Abner Stiles had evidently misinterpreted Mr. Strout's motion, for he called out, "Mister Moderator," and when he got the floor, "I move to amend so that the motion would read, this library shall be called the Strout Free Library of the Town of Eastborough."
This was greeted with shouts of laughter, and Strout grasped Abner by his coat collar and pulled him violently back upon the settee.
"Shut up, you fool," cried he between his teeth to Abner; "do you want to make a laughin' stock of me?"
"I kinder thought I wuz a-helpin' yer," said Abner, as he ran his fingers down under his chin and pulled away his shirt collar, which had been drawn back so forcibly that it interfered with his breathing.
"The question now," said the Moderator, "is on the adoption of Mr. Smith's motion. Those in favor will please stand up and be counted."
When the tellers had attended to their duty the Moderator said, "Those opposed will now rise and be counted."
The vote was soon announced. In favor of accepting the donation, three hundred and one; opposed, fifty-eight.
"It's a vote," declared the Moderator.
A dozen matters of minor importance were quickly disposed of, and but one remained upon the warrant, with the exception of the election of town officers. Little squads of the members were now gathered together talking over the most important question of the meeting, which was the election of town officers for the ensuing year. The last item on the warrant read: "Will the town appropriate money to buy a new hearse?"
Mr. Butterfield had evidently been holding himself in reserve, for he was on his feet in an instant, and he secured the eye of the Moderator and the floor.
"Mister Moderator," began Mr. Butterfield, "I desire to raise my voice agin this biznez of unnecessary and unexampled extravagance. What do we want of a new hearse? Those who are dead and in the cemetery don't find any fault with the one we've got, and those who are livin' have no present use for it, and why should they complain? I know what this means. This is only an enterin' wedge. If this 'ere bill passes and we git a new hearse, then it'll be said thet ther horses don't look as well as the hearse, and then if ther hearse gits out in ther storm, we shell hev ter pay money to git it polished up agin, and we who are livin' will hev to work harder and harder for the benefit of those who are jest as well satisfied with the old hearse as they would be with a new one. I move, Mister Moderator, that instid of buyin' a new hearse, thet ther old one be lengthened six inches, which ken be done at a slight expense."
Mr. Tobias Smith now took the floor.
"I am glad that my friend has not opposed this measure entirely, but has provided for my proper exit from this world when my time comes. I must confess that it has troubled me a great deal when I have thought about that hearse. I was born down in the State of Maine, where the boys and the trees grow up together. I stand six feet two in my stockings and six feet three with my boots on, and I haven't looked forward with any pleasure to being carried to my last resting place in a hearse that was only six feet long. I second Mr. Butterfield's motion, but move to amend it by extending the length to seven feet."
The vote was taken, and Mr. Butterfield's motion was carried by a vote of three hundred and forty to twenty-two. Mr. Butterfield sank back in his seat with an expression on his face that seemed to say, "I've done the town some service to-day."
The Moderator then rose and said, "Fellow-citizens, all the business matters upon the warrant have now been disposed of. We will now proceed to the election of town officers for the ensuing year."
Mr. Stackpole rose and called out, "Mister Moderator, it is now nearly twelve o'clock, and some of us had to leave home quite early this morning in order to be in time at the meeting. I move that we adjourn till one o'clock, at which time balloting for town officers usually commences."
Forty voices cried out, "Second the motion," and although Strout, Stiles, and several others jumped to their feet and endeavored to secure the Moderator's eye, the motion was adopted by an overwhelming vote, and the greater portion of the members made their way out of the hall and directed their steps towards the Eagle Hotel, as if the whole matter had been prearranged. Here, Mr. Parsons, the proprietor, had set out a most tempting lunch in the large dining-room, and those who were able to give the password were admitted to the room, and feasted to their heart's content.
Abner Stiles, impelled by curiosity, had followed the party, and had noticed that each one said something to the proprietor before he was admitted to the dining-room. Going up to Parsons, he said, "What's goin' on in there?"
"Oh, I guess they're having a caucus," replied Mr. Parsons.
"When thet last feller went in," said Abner, "I saw that the table was all set, and I kinder 'magined they must be havin' a dinner. I'd kinder like some myself."
"Well, I'm sorry," said Mr. Parsons, "but I cannot accommodate any more than have already applied. You can get a lunch over to the railroad station, you know, if you want one."
"I know," answered Abner, "but I kinder 'magine they're talkin' over 'lection matters in there, and I'd rather like ter know what's goin' on."
"Well, I guess you'll find out when they get back to the Town Hall," remarked Mr. Parsons; and he stepped forward to greet three or four other citizens, who leaned over and whispered in his ear.
Mr. Parsons smiled and nodded, and opening the door admitted them to the dining-room.
"Well, that beats all," said Abner, as he went out on the platform in front of the hotel. "They jest whispered somethin' to him and he let 'em right in. I kinder think somethin's goin' on and thet Strout ain't up to it. Guess I'll go back and tell him," which he proceeded to do.
He found Strout and some sixty or seventy of the citizens still remaining in the Town Hall, the majority of whom were eating the luncheons that they had brought with them from home. Taking Strout aside, Abner confided to him the intelligence of which he had become possessed.
"'D'yer know what it means?" asked Abner.
"No, I don't," said Strout, "but I bet a dollar that it's some of that city chap's doin's. Is he 'round about town this mornin'?"
"No," said Abner, "he went to Bosting on the same train with Miss Lindy Putnam, for I fetched her down, and I saw him git inter the same car with her as I wuz drivin' off."
One o'clock soon arrived, and the large party that had regaled themselves with the appetizing viands and non-alcoholic beverages supplied by mine host of the Eagle Hotel came back to the Town Hall in the best of spirits. The majority of them were smoking good cigars, which had been handed to them by the proprietor, as they passed from the dining-room.
When asked if there was anything to pay, Mr. Parsons shook his head and remarked sententiously, "This is not the only present that the town has received to-day," which was a delicate way of insinuating the name of the donor of the feast without actually mentioning it.
The election of a dozen minor officers calls for no special attention, except to record the fact that Abner Stiles, who had cautiously taken a position several settees removed from Strout, arose as the nominations were made for each office, and in every case nominated Mr. Obadiah Strout for the position, and it is needless to add that Mr. Obadiah Strout had at least one vote for each office in the gift of the town.
The nomination of a collector of taxes for the town was finally reached. Abner Stiles was first on his feet, and being recognized by the Moderator, nominated "Mr. Obadiah Strout, who had performed the duties of the office so efficiently during the past year."
Now the battle royal began. Mr. Tobias Smith next obtained the floor and nominated Mr. Wallace Stackpole.
"In presenting this nomination, Mister Moderator, I do it out of justice to an old soldier who served the country faithfully, and who lost the election a year ago on account of an untrue statement that was widely circulated and which could not be refuted in time to affect the question of his election. I hold in my hand three documents. The first one is a certified copy of the war record of Wallace Stackpole, who entered one of our regiments of Volunteers as a private, served throughout the war, and was honorably discharged with the rank of captain. This record shows that during his four years of service he was three times wounded; in one instance so badly that for weeks his life hung by a thread, and it was only by the most careful treatment that amputation of his right arm was avoided. I hold here also the war record of the present incumbent of the office. From it I learn that he entered the army as a private and was discharged at the end of two years still holding the rank of private, and sent home as an invalid. He is not to blame for this, but inspecting his record I find that within a month after he joined the army he was detailed for service in the hospital, and during the two years of his connection with the army he was never engaged in a single battle, not even in a skirmish."
Cries rose from certain parts of the hall in opposition to the speaker, and Deacon Mason remarked that while it was perfectly proper to compare the war records of the two candidates for the position, it must be borne in mind that because a man was a soldier, or, rather, because he did a little more fighting than the other one, was no reason that he would make a better tax collector.
The Moderator's remarks were greeted with applause, and Strout's face brightened.
"I am glad to see the Deacon's bound to have fair play," said he to an old farmer who sat next to him.
"Waal, I guess you're more liable to git it than you are disposed to give it," drawled the old farmer, who evidently was not an adherent of the present incumbent of the office.
Mr. Tobias Smith continued his remarks:
"I acknowledge the correctness of the remarks just made by our honored Moderator, and desire to say that I hold in my hand a third document, which is a statement of the taxes due and collected during the past twenty years by the different persons who have held the office of tax collector. I find during nineteen years of that time that the lowest percentage of taxes left unpaid at the end of the year was five per cent; the highest percentage during these nineteen years, and that occurred during the war, was fourteen per cent; but I find that during the past year only seventy-eight per cent of the taxes due have been collected, leaving twenty-two per cent still due the town, and the non-receipt of this money will seriously hamper the selectmen during the coming year, unless we choose a man who can give his entire time to the business and collect the money that is due. This statement is certified to by the town treasurer, and I do not suppose that the present incumbent will presume to question its accuracy."
Strout evidently thought that a further discussion of the matter might work to his still greater disadvantage, for he leaned over and spoke to one of his adherents, who rose and said:
"Mister Moderator, this discussion has taken a personal nature, in which I am not disposed to indulge. I don't think that anything will be gained by such accusations and comparisons. It strikes me that the last speaker is trying to give tit for tat because his candidate lost at the last election; but I am one of those who believe that criminations and recriminations avail nothing, and I move that we proceed to vote at once."
"Second the motion!" screamed Abner Stiles from the settee on which he had assumed a standing posture.
The vote was taken. Those in favor of Obadiah Strout being called upon to stand up first, they numbered exactly one hundred and one. Then those in favor of Wallace Stackpole were called upon to rise, and they numbered two hundred and eighty-four; several citizens having put in an appearance at one o'clock who had not attended the morning session.
The next matter was the election of the Board of Selectmen; and the old board was elected by acclamation without a division. The meeting then adjourned without day.
The five minutes past six train, express from Boston, arrived on time, and at twenty minutes of eight, Mr. Quincy Adams Sawyer entered the private dining-room in the Eagle Hotel. There he found gathered Mr. Tobias Smith, Mr. Wallace Stackpole, Mr. Ezekiel Pettengill, Mr. Sylvester Chisholm, and the Board of Selectmen, making the party of eight which Quincy had mentioned. It was eleven o'clock before the dinner party broke up, and during that time Quincy had heard from one or another of the party a full account of the doings at the town meeting.
It is needless to say that he was satisfied with the results, but he said nothing to indicate that fact in the presence of the Board of Selectmen. They were the first to leave, and then there was an opportunity for mutual congratulations by the remaining members of the party. To these four should be added Mr. Parsons, the proprietor, upon whose face rested a broad smile when he presented his bill for the day's expenses, and the sum was paid by Quincy.
"We had a very pleasant time," remarked Mr. Parsons to Mr. Sawyer as he bade him good evening.
"I am delighted to hear it," said Quincy, "and I regret very much that my business in the city prevented my being here to enjoy it."
On the way home with Ezekiel they went over the events of the day again together, and Ezekiel told him many little points, that for obvious reasons had been omitted at the dinner party.
Quincy was driven directly to Mrs. Hawkins's boarding house, for he had explained his programme to Ezekiel. He turned up his coat collar and pulled his hat down over his eyes, as he was admitted; and, although Mrs. Hawkins's eyes were naturally sharp, she did not recognize the late comer, who proceeded upstairs to his room, which Mrs. Hawkins informed him was right opposite the head of the stairs, and there was a light burning in the room and a good warm fire, and if he needed anything, if he would just call to her inside of the next ten minutes, she would get it for him.
Quincy said nothing, but went into his room and shut the door, and there we will leave him.
As Strout and Abner drove back to Mason's Corner, after the adjournment of the town meeting, nothing was said for the first mile of the trip.
Then Abner turned to him and remarked, "You ought ter be well satisfied with to-day's perceedin's."
"How do you make that out?" growled Strout.
"Waal, I think the events proved," said Abner, "that you wuz the most pop'lar man in ther town."
"How do you make that out?" again growled Strout.
"Why," said Abner, "you wuz nominated for every office in the gift o' ther town, and that's more'n any other feller could say."
"If you don't shut up," said Strout, "I'll nominate you for town idyut, and there won't be any use of any one runnin' agin yer!"
Abner took his reproof meekly. He always did when Strout spoke to him. No more was said until they reached home. Strout entered the boarding house and went upstairs to his room, forgetting that there was a man from Boston, to arrive late that evening, who was to have the next room to his.
Abner put up the horse and went home. As he went by Strout's door, thoughts of the rum and molasses, and the good cigar that he had enjoyed the night of the surprise party one week ago went through his mind, and he stopped before Strout's door and listened attentively, but there was no sound, and he went upstairs disconsolately, and went to bed feeling that his confidence in the Professor had been somewhat diminished by the events of the day.