"Very discreeto, I am sure. Hers not to reason why, hers but to do and—which we sincerely hope that estimable lady will refrain from—" Mr. Jordano became involved, and flourished the note-book nervously.
"Question is, what in hemp does it mean?" broke in Mr. Mallow again. "I beg you'll excuse me, Miss Bygood; that darned tattle-tale has got me all worked up; but I want to get to the bottom of this. Does it mean that the feller is comin' that way, drivin' six hosses—three pair, that would be, I presume—he wouldn't drive that number tantrum, most likely—because if it does, I'd have to get extry help, you see, Miss Almery. Or would he bring his own help with him, think? A Dook is next to a king, isn't he? Did you ever see a Dook, Mr. Bygood?"
Mr. Bygood, as was well known, had made several voyages in his early manhood, in the mystic character of ship's husband, and had visited Foreign Parts. All eyes turned on the old gentleman, who beamed gently through his spectacles. No, he had never seen a duke; that is, never in life, sir! He had seen the statue of the Duke of Wellington, in Hyde Park, London, England; it was considered very fine, he believed: very fine. A work of art, sir!
Mr. Jason Jebus, whose contribution to the conversation had been hitherto a running commentary of squeaks, now became articulate.
"I was in to Abram Hanks's just now to get me some lahstic for my boots—" (have I said that the partners wore elastic-sided Congress boots? They did; the difference between right and left was less obvious in these than in other boots, and Mr. Jason always wore out Mr. Josiah's left boots, which did not fit the club foot)—"and heclaimed the—individual—was comin' by rail, and wanted some one should meet him at the deepo with a coach and six horses. Cissy Sharpe told him, he said."
"Good reason for believin' 'tain't so!" snorted Mr. Mallow.
"Abram didn't let on he felt anyways sure of it," Mr. Jason continued. "He thought mebbe he'd dress up his window a mite on the chance—strangers, you know—and I didn't know but what I would. Like to have 'em see a tasty window, if they should come. Like to have Cyrus stores make as good appearance as any. Josiah has a handsome centrepiece just com——"
"Now! now!" Mr. Josiah put in testily. "Don't you go runnin' away with no notions, Jason! I ain't said I was willin' to put that piece in the winder, and I don't know as I am. There's consid'able blue in it, and blue won't stand a winder light, it perishes right out. Come on! we must be goin'. Give you good mornin', neighbors!"
Mr. Josiah stumped off, Mr. Jason twittering at his heels. Mr. Mallow looked after them with a tolerant smile.
"Now Jason will put in the day," he said, "publishin' up that winder. Start him and Abram Hanks, and we shall have the whole Street dandied up like Decoration Day. I guess the Mallow House will stay pretty much as it is, Dook or no Dook." (Oh, Mr. Mallow! Mr. Mallow! as if Hannah Sullivan were not at work at this moment "cleaning" your spotless paint, while Billy polishes the shining silver!) "I guess what suits the Boarders'll do for him, what say?"