CHAPTER XVI.
MASTER RANTY.
“A rare compound of oddity, frolic and fun.” Goldsmith.
A little, old, decrepit woman, bent double with age, leaning on a staff, and shaking with palsy, stood as suddenly before them as if she had sprung up through the earth. Her dress was the most astonishing complication of rags that ever hung together on a human back before. A long old-fashioned cloak that, a hundred years before, had probably been all the rage, swept behind her; and as it trailed along, seemed in imminent danger of throwing the unfortunate old lady over her own head, every minute. A brown, sunburned face, half hidden in masses of coarse, gray hairs, peered wildly out; and from under a pair of bushy, overhanging, gray eyebrows, gleamed two keen, needle-like eyes, as sharp as two-edged stilettos. This singular individual wore a man’s old beaver hat on her head, which was forcibly retained on that palsy-shaking member by a scarlet bandanna handkerchief passed over the crown, and tied under the chin.
Altogether, the little, stooping, unearthly-looking crone was one of the most singular sights that mortal eyes ever beheld.
So completely amazed were the whole assembly that for some five minutes they stood staring in silent wonder at this unexpected and most startling apparition. The little old woman, steadying herself with some difficulty on her cane, shaded her eyes with one hand, and peered at them with her sharp eyes.
“Don’t be afeard, pretty ladies and gentlemen,” said the little old lady, in a shrill, sharp falsetto. “I won’t hurt none o’ you, ef you behave yourselves. I guess I may come in?”
And suiting the action to the word, the little owner of the extraordinary head-dress hobbled in, and composedly dumped herself down into the rocking-chair Mr. Toosypegs had lately vacated.
“Now, what in the name of Hecate and all the witches, does this mean?” exclaimed Pet, first recovering her presence of mind.
“It means that I’ll take some breakfas’, if you’ll bring it down, Miss,” said the little old woman, laying her formidable-looking stick across her lap; and favoring the company, one and all, with a prolonged stare from her keen bright eyes.
“Well, now, that’s what I call cool,” said Pet, completely taken aback by the old woman’s sang froid. “Perhaps your ladyship will be condescending enough to sit over here and help yourself?”