The Puddleford Papers; Or, Humors of the West

by Henry Hiram Riley

CHAPTER XXIV.

The Tinkhams arrive.—Great Stir.—Miss Lavinia Longbow's Head is turned.—Everybody in Love with the Tinkhams.—Wind changes.—The Tinkhams fall.—The whole Pack out on them.—They abandon the Settlement.

It is remarkable how the people of a new country run in fixed channels of thought and action. That this is true of an old one where ages have hardened down and vitrified a long train of habits, is not so wonderful. Puddleford was in the gristle, it was true, and had not as yet made any permanent development. But even in its gristle, it had its laws—temporary, of course, but laws, nevertheless, which were as unbending as iron, while they lasted.

No person was permitted to outstrip his neighbor in any of the luxuries or refinements of social life. Any attempt at such a piece of ambition was regarded as a kind of premeditated insult upon the whole town. It was never for a moment supposed that a Puddlefordian could act without some hidden motive, maliciously directed against those who were not in any way connected with his personal affairs. The pride of a new country is most marvellous. The less wealth, or the less education, or the less of the luxuries of life, which such a people may possess, the more tender they are upon those very deprivations. In one sense, again, not a particle of pride could be found lingering in all Puddleford. This pride was the source of the most unrelenting jealousy.

Mrs. Longbow never bought a new calico without being agitated. She knew that not only the calico, but herself, too, in connection with such a bold enterprise, must necessarily pass in review before all the women of the place. And she also knew that not unfrequently it happened that very improper motives were attributed. The calico might have been purchased to cast a slur upon some one else—a way taken by her to "let people know what some folks could do, and what other people could not do,"—a kind of open triumph, maliciously intended to humble the pride, and sneer at the poverty of another, who dare not venture upon such an outlay of money—and Mrs. Longbow knew and felt that it was as much as her reputation was worth to appear for the first time in public in such a garment—for Mrs. Swipes or Mrs. Bird would be sure to declare that "she did it on purpos' jist to insult her."

Immigrants, who settled in Puddleford, felt the force of this social law very forcibly. Mr. Tinkham and family came in and took up their residence. Mr. Tinkham was a small merchant, and hailed from a small eastern village, and brought in his train a wife, one son, and two daughters—Mr. Howard Tinkham, Miss Jenet Tinkham, and Miss Mary Tinkham—old enough all for society. They were a very plain family, had been educated in a very plain way, and were very unpretending in their deportment. "Old Mr. Tinkham," as he was called, was on the downhill side of life, and was fast running into the shadows of the valley; and "Old Mrs. Tinkham" was not very far behind him. They had immigrated for the benefit of their children—made themselves miserable from a philanthropic desire to make somebody else happy—had buried all the associations, comforts, and joys of their lives, to linger out an unnatural existence in the West.

When Mr. Tinkham and his family came on, Puddleford was overflowing with enthusiasm. Indeed, their anticipated arrival was heralded by all hands long before they made their appearance, and their "means," personal history, politics, and religion were well known weeks in advance. The accession of a new family was a great event in Puddleford—and well it might be—for it was a rare event to find any one bold enough to settle down in the village—and it usually turned out to be as great an event to the individual who settled, as those whom he settled among.

There was a general uprising to receive Mr. Tinkham—it did not seem possible to do enough for Mr. Tinkham—he was from the very first completely run down, crushed, and smothered with attention—all the women offered their services in any and every way to Mr. Tinkham, and to Mrs. Tinkham, and Mr. Howard Tinkham, and Miss Jenet Tinkham, and Miss Mary Tinkham—one ran this way to do this, and another that way to do that—sometimes two or three female Puddlefordians would insist upon performing the same act for Mrs. Tinkham, which not unfrequently resulted in hard words and red faces among themselves, for their kindness was so impulsive and excessive, that it was not possible for them to restrain it, as long as the Tinkham fever lasted.

The Tinkhams thought that they had been very much underrated, or very much overrated. They were positively delighted with the spontaneous attention of the Puddlefordians—and yet, as has been stated, the Tinkhams were a plain people, not subject to any fashionable flights, nor haughty airs, nor had they ever demanded or received much notice before, and they could only account for the novel exhibitions of hospitality of their new acquaintances by supposing it was "their way," and that they were no exception to a general rule.

Miss Lavinia Longbow, who was decidedly one of the fashionable "upper crust" of society—for every society has its "upper crust"—and who was the daughter of Squire Longbow, which of itself was all-sufficient to fix her social position—Miss Lavinia Longbow almost went into ecstasies over Mr. Howard Tinkham the first time she saw him.