Papa's own girl: A novel

by Marie Stevens Howland

During the drive home, the doctor took from his pocket a copy of the Oakdale daily and read: “Dr. Forest presents his regards to his patients of Oakdale and vicinity, and hereby announces that he will suspend his medical practice from the first of May, 18—, until the completion of the Social Palace, when he will take charge of the medical service of that institution.”

“I fully expected that,” said Clara. “I knew papa would have a large hand in that workmen’s palace; but what place are you to take, papa? Just before the Chinaman appeared in the programme, I was counting on your volunteering to take the office of cordon bleu.”

“Which I would do, willingly,” said the doctor, “if I could be most useful there.”

“By the way, let us stop at the hotel as we are passing, and see what Too Soon is doing. That’s the name of our celestial brother,” said the count.

In a small room in the upper part of the hotel, they found Too Soon seated on the floor, busily sewing. As they entered, he rose and pressed the count’s hand to his forehead, and then showed what he knew of western etiquette, by bowing very low to the rest. It was very difficult to talk to him, but by dint of pantomime and a few English words, they found that Too Soon had sewed all night, and had nearly finished his wardrobe, consisting of baggy, thick, linen trowsers and two nondescript jackets. The count tried to convey to him an idea of the function he was to fill over the river, but without success. However, after lunching with Clara and Susie, he returned for Too Soon, took him in his carriage, and drove to a hardware and crockery store, and then to a dry-goods establishment, where he made all the purchases for the new cuisine. The moment Too Soon saw the table-cloths, he showed by pantomime that he wished to hem them. He understood, evidently, that the count was going to establish a restaurant somewhere over the river; but he was as devoted as a slave, and ready to do whatever was required of him.

The work went on bravely. Stevens set every man at work who could drive a nail, and in less than a week the building was in use. The cooking arrangement was admirable. The tables built, Too Soon’s well-stocked china closet filled and locked, and all the washing and other paraphernalia ready for use. “To-morrow,” said Mr. Stevens to his men, “lunch for fifty and over will be spread here. I expect the count will be here. Understand you are all free to act as you usually do—take your own lunches to the table, or bring nothing. A good plate of meat, with gravy and potatoes, will be furnished for six cents; a large cup of coffee for two cents; (Too Soon has already roasted it in the new oven, which works to a charm,) and bread, as much as you want, for two cents more. That makes ten cents. Too Soon will hereafter sleep here, and keep all safe. There will be water and towels provided, so that every man can make himself so presentable that any one, seeing him at table, will be surprised if he don’t eat with his fork just like a gentleman. Now I ain’t afraid of offending you. I am a workman like you, and used to eat with my knife, which was all right when we had to use a two-pronged fork, and I confess, boys, that I shall have no little pride to-morrow at this lunch.”

“Boss, I guess some of us would know a silver fork if we had a good square view of it,” said one of the men.

“All right,” said Stevens, laughing. “You know very well there are some people who think a workingman must be a boor, anyway. Von Frauenstein is not one of them, I promise you. On the contrary, he expects rather too much of us.” The men said nothing; but evidently they determined, each and every one, to perish rather than forget and put their knives in their mouths. This piece of policy was rather nicely managed on the part of Stevens, for there is nothing on which people, who have been deprived of refined breeding, are so sensitive as this very subject of manners.

The next evening Burnham and his wife were at the Kendricks. Mrs. Burnham enquired for the count.

“Oh, he’s running and driving everywhere,” said Mrs. Kendrick. “We scarcely ever see him. He apologizes, and says he don’t like to make our house a convenience; but I won’t hear of his going to a hotel, of course.”