I d’no as the Queen of Sheba and Mr. Sheba could have travelled with any more pomp if they had took it into their heads to come to Jonesville the Fourth of July. They didn’t seem to be payin’ any attention to the pictures, though they wuz perfectly beautiful. There wuz a group of titled people that had been pinted out to us, and their eyes wuz glued on them, and they seemed to be kinder followin’ ’em round. They gin Miss Meechim a cool, patronizin’ nod as they went by, and she gurgled and overflowed with joy over it.
She said they wuz the Mudd-Weakdews, of Sacramento, Rev. Mr Weakdew’s only child, and they wuz on their way home from Paris; he had married Augusta Mudd, a millionairess. “They are so exclusive, so genteel!” sez Miss Meechim, “they will not associate with anybody but the very first. He wuz a college mate of Robert’s and so different from him,” sez she.
“Yes,” sez I, in a real dry tone, “I spoze he is, he looks different anyway.”
“He is engaged in the same occupation Robert is,” sez Miss Meechim, “and he would no more do as Robert does than he would fly. He keeps his workmen down in their place. Now Robert sells them land at a cheap rate and encourages a building association amongst the workmen, so most all of them own their own houses and gardens, and they cultivate fruits and flowers, making their homes look more like a genteel, wealthy person’s than a laborer’s; it makes them independent as you please, heads right up, lookin’ you right in the face, as if they wuz your equals. Mudd-Weakdew don’t let them own an inch of land; they live in tenements that he owns and they pay high rents. The houses are laborers’ rooms, not genteel and comfortable as their employer’s. He says that he makes as much out of the rent of these houses as he does from his factory, for I must say that Robert’s workmen do more work and better. But the Mudd-Weakdews live like a prince on a broad, tree-shaded avenue with a long row of tenement houses on the alley back of it, separated from the poor, and what I consider a genteel, proper way.
“Of course his workmen complain that they do all the work and he lives in a palace and they in a hovel, that he is burdened with luxuries and is hoarding up millions, whilst they labor through their half-starved lives and have the workhouse to look forward to. So unreasonable! How can the poor expect the genteel pleasures of the wealthy, and when their houses are low and old and the walls mouldy and streets narrow and filthy and no gardens, and ten or fifteen in one room, they ought not to expect the comfort and pure air of four people in one great house set in a park. But such people can’t reason.”
“Who is the fourth?” sez I coldly, for I despised her idees.
“They have a little girl older than Augustus and very 318 different from him. Little Augustus is naturally very aristocratic and they encourage him to look down on the tenement children and be sharp to them, for they know that he will have to take the reins in his hands and control rebellious workmen just as his pa does now, and conquer them just as you would a ugly horse or dog.”
“How is the little girl different?” sez I in cold, icy axents.
“Oh, she is a perfect beauty, older than Augustus and at boarding-school now. She is the idol of their hearts––even the workmen love her, she is so gentle and sweet. Her parents adore her and expect that she will unite them to the nobility, for she is as beautiful as an angel.