"I know how to appreciate it, Mrs. Trotbridge, and hope nothing may come to lengthen the distance between our friendship," returned the major, shrugging his great broad shoulders, and adding that I could now go through the process of dusting while he washed his face, preparatory to listening to how times went with Mrs. Trotbridge. He had previously ordered the boys to water his chickens, and now, having at his desire brought in the fish, he presented them to the hostess with all that pomp and dignity so common with government employ‚s, who present the heads of departments with services of plate bought with their own money, and which intolerable nuisance had its origin among the kings and queens of the buskin. They were, he slyly intimated, worth seven Massachusetts shillings. The shrewd fishmonger wanted nine, but, saying I was going to present them to a dear old friend, he threw off two. No New York alderman ever received a gold snuff box for abusing his office with more condescension than did Mrs. Trotbridge the fish so kindly presented by the major. Saying he was proverbially a modest man, the major begged she would forego any return of thanks and accept them solely as a token of the affection he bore her, and which he certainly would enlarge were it not that Mrs. Roger Potter yet lived, and was hale and hearty. The widow blushed for once, saying as she did so, that there was a time when such a compliment would not have been lost upon her, but now that she had got on the wrong side of forty, was getting gray, and had seen three dear good husbands put away in the grave, she did not think it right to be "lookin' out," especially as Parson Stebbins had always said, when he looked in, that woman's worldly thoughts ought to end at forty.
My suspicions of the major's probity were now almost confirmed, for when she offered to vouchsafe him her generosity, by frying a piece of the fish for dinner, he expressed a positive preference for bacon, a good flitch of which he saw in a little cupboard she opened in search of her stew pan. And although he expressed it a stain upon his gallantry to deprive her of even an ounce, I thought the quality and not his gallantry stood in the way. "Lord bless you, Mrs. Trotbridge," said the major, "men distinguished in arms never make presents to eat of them."
The good hostess replied, by saying, she might have known, but it was seldom persons so distinguished came that way; and when they did, she entertained them just for the honor of it. Peace, she said, reigned in her little house, and she was more happy with the thought of eating the bread of honesty, so remotely, than she would be with a palace in the olive groves of Cordova the man who lectured told about, seeing that they who live in palaces must depend upon others for bread, while she could raise her own.
CHAPTER IX.
HOW MAJOR ROGER POTTER GOT HIS DINNER, MADE AN EXCHANGE OF CHICKENS, AND TOOK LEAVE OF MRS. TROTBRIDGE.
HAD Major Roger Potter been as well qualified to take advantage of a political necessity, as the cunning quality of his gallantry in this instance fully testified, he was to get the better in a matter of trade, he had never fallen from so high an estate as that of defending the nation's honor to that of selling tin ware and shoe pegs.
The major, saying he had an inert sympathy for the humble, and that nothing had so much pleased him as to do Mrs. Trotbridge service, now commenced to set her table, which he did with the familiarity of a good housewife, while the anxious woman bestirred herself in preparing dinner, expressing her doubts as she did so, that her efforts would not meet our expectations. Suddenly remembering that I was so great a politician, the good woman, having made sundry inquiries concerning my wants, bethought herself that I would like a book to while away the time; so, leaving her stew pan in charge of the Major, who, having set the table with great exactness, was seated upon a small stool at the fireside, beating the doughnut batter in a bowl on his lap, she proceeded to a small book-rack over a window, and brought me a copy of Elder Boomer's last sermons, the reading of which she was fully assured in her own mind would interest me.
The major interposed (wiping his portentous belly, which had become disfigured with batter,) by saying that seeing the book advertised by the publishers (who were men of truth in all matters concerning their trade) as the greatest of recently published works, he got a copy for Mrs. Potter, who declared it a wonderful book, and had lent it to all the neighbors, who had read it until nothing would do but they must get up a religious revival. Indeed, if things kept on as they were going, there would soon not be a sinner left in the region round about Barnstable, such a change had the book worked in the pious feelings of the good people. I seated myself beside a window that overlooked the little garden, and turned over the leaves of the book, affecting to be deeply interested in it, but really listening to an interesting colloquy that was being kept up between the good woman and the major, at whose side several little flaxen headed urchins had crouched down, and with an air of paternal regard, watched intently in his face as he compounded the batter with so much force and energy, that at least one half it was lost in spatters over their features. And while doing this, so eager was the major to ascertain the exact state of Mrs. Trotbridge's affairs, that the increase of her pigs and poultry formed a prominent feature in his inquiries. She had let her little farm of thirty acres out on shares to neighbor Zack Slocum, who was esteemed the best crop-getter this side of the crossroads. The peach trees, of which she had seven ranged along the little picket fence round the garden, gave no very strong evidence of doing much, while the cherry tree over the well was touched with blight; but for all that she felt that providence would in some way enable her to scrape up fruit enough to get over the winter. What was deficient in one part of the country was made up by the plenty of another. She had recently, however, felt a great drawback in the bad times consequent upon the policy of the present administration. At last she had been told it was the folks in power at Washington who had made times so hard, that the wealthy manufacturer for whom she "binded" the shoes her boys stitched, could only give two cents a pair, where formerly he gave two and a half. But the cunning fellow, who was the sharpest kind of a straight Whig, said if they got their side in at the next election, he would come back to old prices, with cash instead of store pay. Mrs. Trotbridge hoped it might be so, for the half cent was a serious loss to a family so humble. But she was at a loss to account how it was that if times were so hard, the manufacturer, who could not afford to pay old prices, wanted a greater number of shoes bound, and would hurry her life out to have them done in less time than it were possible to do them.
The good woman, considering herself honored by such military and political greatness, spread her table with fried bacon and new laid eggs, and the cold pork and beans left over from yesterday, a few shavings of dried beef, currant jelly of the most tempting kind, doughnuts, hot and fresh out of the bacon fat, and bread made of wheat raised on the two acre patch across the road, and to which she added a cup of tea so delicate in flavor that it would have made a Dutch grandmother return thanks to the East India Company. In truth there was a snowy whiteness in the table linen, and a nicety and freshness of flavor in the viands one only finds at a country house in New England, and which those accustomed to the "hudgey smudgey" cooking at the great hotels of cities cannot appreciate.
The good woman regretted that she could not add a mug of cider, for since the temperance folks had shut up the tavern kept by General Aldrich, at the village, travelers with a taste for that article had to thirst and keep on to Barnstable. "May heaven vouchsafe you plenty of such good fare," said the major, taking his seat at the head of the table, as we drew up and engaged the bacon and eggs with appetites that were sharpened to the keenest edge. And so fiercely did the major gorge himself, showing no respect for the last piece upon any plate, that the little urchins, who had occupied seats at the table, began to gaze upon him with wonder and astonishment, and to slink away, one after another, to relieve their pent up mirth. Indeed, so formidable was the onset he made upon the bacon and eggs, that I found it necessary to withdraw after the first fire, lest the good hostess be compelled to call her frying pan into use a second time. Having finished the humble but grateful meal, we proceeded, at the desire of the major, to examine the pig and poultry yard. Her two cows, she said, twitching her head in satisfaction, had had fine thriving calves, and the old sow had a nice increase of fifteen little spotted rascals, as round and plump as foot-balls. As for poultry, the only kind that had not done well was her turkeys. And of this there was visible testimony in four dyspeptic young ones that walked sleepily around two old ones, kept up a very ill-natured whimpering, and in addition to being featherless were quite as much bedowned as the face of a freshman. The major, who had a remedy for everything, set at once to prescribing for their distempers, which he swore by his military reputation they could be purged of by taking homopathic pills dissolved in the smallest quantity of Wistar's Balsam of Wild Cherry. He had not the slightest doubt but that by following up this course of medicine a sufficient length of time, the ill-feathered patients would be restored to a happy state of health, and become popular fowls at the poultry show. The medicine was as harmless as need be, though extremely expensive. There was a satisfaction, however, in knowing that their valuable lives could in no way be endangered by an over dose.