"Quite so!" exclaimed John Bell, and with that, he signalled the leaders, all the other passengers having got out by this time, and in less than no time the coach was whirling in the direction of old Jonas Whipple's house.
I'd like to show you how the neighbours came to their doors and stared; I can't describe it on paper, but if you were sitting where you could see my motions and gestures you'd laugh until you cried. The way the horses swept down that long red hill, leading from the tavern to old Jonas's, was assuredly a sight to see; and not only the neighbours saw it. Old Jonas saw it, and Lucindy saw it, too. Lucindy tried hard to be two persons that day; she'd look at old Jonas and frown, and then she'd look at the stage-coach and smile all over her face. She was mad on one side and glad on the other—mad because old Jonas wasn't as excited as she was, and glad because the child was coming. But old Jonas had a very good reason for his lack of excitement; he had such a cold that he could hardly talk for coughing, and such a bad cough that he could hardly cough for wheezing. And before he would come to the door, he wrapped his neck in a piece of red flannel. He tried to smile when he saw Adelaide waving her flower-like hand, and the smile came near strangling him. But Lucindy, the cook, was more than equal to the emergency; she whipped off her big apron and waved it up and down at arm's length, which was quite as hearty a welcome as any one would wish to have. I am sure that no one else ever received such a welcome at old Jonas's door. Up swept the stage, around it swung, and then, "All out for Whipple's Cross-roads!"
Mr. Sanders had his head out of the window, and saw Adelaide lift her lovely face and kiss John Bell. It must have been a great strain on John Bell to stoop so low, for when he straightened himself he was very red in the face.
"That," said Mr. Sanders, who was a close observer, "is the first time anybody has kissed John Bell since he was a baby. That's what makes him sweat so!"
"Much you know about such things," exclaimed John Bell, mopping his face with a red bandana. Nobody knows to this day how Lucindy managed to take the trunk from the boot of the stage, and place it in the veranda in time to run back and seize Adelaide and pull her through the window of the coach before any one could open the door. But such was the feat she performed in her excitement. Mr. Sanders appeared to be so surprised that he could do nothing but pucker up his face, pretending he was crying, and yell out: "Lucindy's took Miss Adelaide, an' now who's gwine to take me out'n this stage. Ef you don't come an' git me, Jonas, I'll be took off by John Bell, an' you won't never see me no more!" Old Jonas looked at Mr. Sanders as if he were in a dream, and had not heard aright. Observing this, Mr. Sanders kept up the pretence, and he cried so loudly, and to such purpose, that the neighbours on each side of the street came running to their front doors to see what the trouble was. And then old Jonas became furiously angry. "Take him away, John Bell!" he commanded; "I hold you responsible! Confound you! why don't you drive on." With that he went into the house.
Mr. Sanders cared not a whit for old Jonas's irritation, and so he alighted from the coach and followed the rest into the house. He was just in time to hear Adelaide begin her course of instruction to old Jonas.
"Nunky-Punky," said she, very solemn, "why didn't you wait for Mr.——oh, I know who he is, he's the Peskerwhalian Bishop!—why didn't you wait for the Bishop?"
"Much he looks like a bishop!" replied old Jonas, when he could control his cough. "Did you ever hear a bishop boo-hooing and carrying on in that way?"
The child stared at her uncle so seriously that he was actually embarrassed. He rubbed his hand over a sharp chin that needed a razor very badly, and really forgot that he was angry with Mr. Sanders. Then something quite shocking occurred to Adelaide's nimble mind.