“For mercy’s sake, Reuben, what’s Rome got to do with our Phil? I don’t see that Rome’s got anythin’ to do with the case, onless it’s somethin’ like New York, where our boy is.”
“Well, Rome was built an’ rebuilt a good many times, you see, ’fore it got to be all that was ’xpected of it: an’ our Phil’s goin’ through the same operation, mebbe. A man’s got to be either a stupid savage or a finished-off saint to be suddenly pitched from fields and woods into a great big town without bein’ dazed. When I first went down to York, my eyes was kept so wide open that I couldn’t scarcely open my mouth for a few days, much less take my pen in hand, as folks say in letters. I hardly knowed which foot I was standin’ on, an’ sometimes I felt as if the ground was gone from under me. Yet New York ground is harder than an onbeliever’s heart.”
Mrs. Hayn seemed to accept the simile of Rome’s building as applied to her son, for she made no further objection to it; she continued, however, to polish her glasses, in anticipation of what she still longed to do with them. Her husband continued to make tiny slits and cross-cuts in the althea’s bark, and to insert buds carefully cut from the boughs. Finally he remarked, as carelessly as if talking about the weather,—
“Sol Mantring’s sloop’s got back.”
“Gracious!” exclaimed Mrs. Hayn; “why ain’t you told me so before? Sol’s seen Phil, ain’t he? What does he say? Of course you didn’t come home without seein’ him?”
“Of course I didn’t. Yes, Sol’s seen Phil,—seen him the day before he caught the tide an’ came out. An’ Sol says he’s a stunner, too,—don’t look no more like his old self than if he’d been born an’ raised in York. I tell you, Lou Ann, it don’t take that boy much time to catch on to whatever’s got go to it. Why, Sol says he’s got store-clothes on, from head to foot. That ain’t all, either; he——” Here the old man burst into laughter, which he had great difficulty in suppressing; after long effort, however, he continued: “Sol says he carries a cane,—a cane not much thicker than a ramrod. Just imagine our Phil swingin’ a cane if you can!” And the old man resumed his laughter, and gave it free course.
“Mercy sakes!” said the old lady; “I hope he didn’t take it to church with him. An’ I hope he won’t bring it back here. What’ll the other members of the Young People’s Bible-Class say to see such goin’s-on by one that’s always been so proper?”
“Why, let him bring it: what’s a cane got to do with Bible-classes? I don’t doubt some of the ’postles carried canes; I think I’ve seed ’em in pictures in the Illustrated Family Bible. I s’pose down in Judee ther’ was snakes an’ dogs that a man had to take a clip at with a stick, once in a while, same as in other countries.”
“What else did Sol say?” asked the mother.
“Well, he didn’t bring no special news. He said Phil didn’t know he was leavin’ so soon, else like enough he’d have sent some word. He said Phil was lookin’ well, an’ had a walk on him like a sojer in a picture. I’m glad the boy’s got a chance to get the plough-handle stoop out of his shoulders for a few days. Sez you wouldn’t know his face, though, ’cause his hair’s cut so short; got a new watch-chain, too; I’m glad to hear that, ’cause I was particular to tell him to do it.”