The Wooing of Calvin Parks

CHAPTER IV

THE CANDY ROUTE

"Hossy," said Calvin as he drove out of the yard, "what do you think of that young woman?"

(Mary Sands was nearer forty than thirty, but she will be young at seventy.) The brown horse shook his head slightly as Calvin flicked the whip past his ear.

"Well, there you're mistaken!" said Calvin. "There's where you show your ignorance, hossy. I tell you that young woman is A 1 and clipper built if ever I see such. Yes, sir! ship-shape and Bristol fashion, live-oak frame, and copper fastenin's, is what I call Miss Hands, and a singular name she's got. Most prob'ly she'll be changin' it to Sill one of these days, and one of them two lobsters will be a darned lucky feller. I wonder which she'll take. I wonder why in Tunkett she should want either one of 'em. I wonder – hello!"

He checked the brown horse. A small boy was standing on a gate-post and shouting vigorously.

"What say, sonny?" said Calvin.

"Be you the candy man?" cried the child.

"That's what! be you the candy boy? lozenges, tutti-frutti and pepsin chewin' gum, chocolate creams, stick candy – what'll you have, young feller?"

"I want a stick of checkerberry!" said the boy.

"So do I!" cried a little girl in a pink gingham frock, who had run out from the house and climbed on the other gate-post. She was a pretty curly little creature, and the boy was an engaging compound of flaxen hair, freckles and snub nose. Calvin regarded them benevolently, and pulled out a drawer under the seat of the wagon.

"Here you are!" he said, taking out a glass jar full of enchanting red and white sticks.

"Best checkerberry in the State of Maine; cent apiece!" and he held out two sticks.

The children's eyes grew big and tragic. "We ain't got any money!" said the boy, sadly.

"Not any money!" echoed the little girl.

"Then what in time did you ask for it for?" asked Calvin rather irritably.

"I didn't!" said the boy. "I just said I wanted it."

Calvin looked from him to the girl, and then at the candy, helplessly.

"Well, look here!" he said. "Say! where do hossy and me come in? We've got to get our livin', you see."

"Could you get much living out of two sticks?" asked the little girl.

Calvin looked again at the round wistful eyes.

"This ain't no kind of way to do business!" he remonstrated. "You've got to airn it some way, you know. Tell you what! Let me see which can holler loudest, and I'll give you a stick apiece."

The babes closed their eyes, threw back their heads, and bellowed to the skies.

"That's first rate!" said Calvin. "Good lung power there, young uns! go it again!"

The children roared like infant bulls of Bashan. At this moment the door of the house flew open and a woman appeared wild-eyed.

"What's the matter?" she cried. "Susy, be you hurt? Eben, has something bit you?"

"Don't you be scairt, Marm!" said Calvin affably. "They was just showin' off their lung power, and they've got a first rate article of it."

The woman's eyes flashed, and she hurried toward the gate. "You come along and be spanked!" she cried to the children; "scarin' me into palpitations, and your Aunt Mandy layin' in a blue ager! And as for you," she addressed Calvin directly, "the best thing you can do is to get out of this the quickest you know how. When I want peddlers round here I'll let you know."

The children were hurried into the house, shrieking now in good earnest, but clutching their candy sticks. Calvin gazed after them ruefully.

"Well, hossy, that didn't seem to work real good, did it?" he said. "Fact is, we ain't got the hang of this business, no way, shape or manner. Try to please the kids and you get 'em a spankin' instead. Well, they got their candy anyway. 'Pears as if their Ma needed somethin', howsomever."

He sat pondering with his eyes fixed anxiously on the house; finally he rummaged among his drawers, and taking out a small package, he climbed laboriously out over the wheel, and making his way up to the house, knocked at the door. The woman opened it with a bounce, and snorted when she saw him.

Calvin bent toward her confidentially, his face full of serious anxiety.

"Say, lady!" he said gravely; "I'd like to make you a present of these cardamom seeds. They do say they're the best thing goin' for the temper; kind o' counter-irritant, y' know; bite the tongue, and – "

The door banged in his face. He smiled placidly, and returning to his wagon clambered in again and chirruped cheerily to the brown horse.

"Gitty up, hossy!" he said. "I feel a sight better now. Gitty up!"

They jogged on for some time, Calvin mostly silent, though now and then he broke out into song.

Rounding a curve in the road, he saw a man walking in the same direction in which he was going; a young man, slight and wiry, walking with quick, jerky strides. Calvin observed him.

"That young feller's in a hurry, hossy," he said. "See him? he's takin' longer steps than what his legs are, and that's agin' natur'. What say about givin' him a lift, hey?"

The brown horse, his ear being flicked, shook his head decidedly. "Sho!" said Calvin, "you don't mean that, hossy. Your bark – well, not exactly bark – is worse than your – not precisely bite, but you know what I mean. He's in a hurry, and he's in trouble too, and you and me ain't neither one nor 'tother. Say!" he called as he came within hailing distance. "Want a lift?"

The man stopped with a start, and turned a pale face on Calvin. He had red hair, and his blue eyes burned angrily.

"Yes!" he said. Calvin stopped, and he jumped quickly into the wagon. Calvin looked at him expectantly a moment; then "Much obliged!" he said. "Real accommodatin' of you!"

The young man colored like a girl. "I beg your pardon!" he said. "I'm forgetting my manners and everything else, I guess. Much obliged to you for takin' me up. I'm in a terrible hurry!" he added, looking doubtfully at the brown horse, who was jogging peacefully along.

"Four legs is better than two!" said Calvin. "Gitty up, hossy! He makes better time than what he appears to, hossy does. He's a better ro'der than you be. We'll git there!"

"How far you goin'?" asked the man.

"Oh, down along a piece!" said Calvin. "Where be you?"

"I'm going to Tinkham," said the red-haired man with angry emphasis; "to Lawyer Filcher. If there was any lawyer nearer I'd go to him."

"I want to know!" said Calvin sociably. "Insurance?"

"No!" the man broke out. "I'm goin' to get a bill!"

Now in our part of the country a "bill" means a bill of divorce. Calvin shook his head with sympathetic interest.

"Sho!" he said. "A young feller like you? now ain't that a pity?"

"I can't stand it any longer!" the lad cried, and his hands worked with passion. "Nor yet I won't, I tell you. No man would. This ends it. We was mismated from the first, and this is the last."

"Well!" said Calvin. "Ain't that a pity now? If it's so, it's so, and mebbe a bill is the best thing. Awful homely, is she?"

The lad turned upon him, and his blue eyes flashed.

"Homely?" he said roughly. "What you talkin' about? she was Katie Hazard."

"Nice name!" said Calvin. "Come from these parts?"

"I guess you don't!" retorted the lad, "or you wouldn't have to be told. She was called the prettiest girl in the county when I married her, and she hasn't got over it yet."

"You don't say!" said Calvin placidly. "Well, good looks is pleasant, I always maintain; I'd full rather have a woman good-lookin' if other things is 'cordin' to. I suppose likely she's a poor cook? A man has to have his victuals, you know!"

"She's the best cook in the State!" said the young man doggedly. "I'd back her riz bread or doughnuts or pies against any woman's from Portland to 'Roostick."

"Quite a ways," said Calvin. "S'pose likely she's slack, hey? house cluttered up? calicker wrapper and shoes down at the heel? that kind?"

The blue eyes flared at him. "I don't want none o' this kind o' talk!" he said sharply. "Slack! I'd sooner eat off Katie's kitchen floor than any other woman's parlor table that ever I see. You find me a speck o' dust or a spot o' dirt round our house and I'll find you a blue hen."

"I see!" said Calvin. "Another fellow, is there?"

"No!" shouted the young man, and he turned savagely on Calvin. "I'd like to know why you're sayin' this kind of thing, when you never see nor heard of me nor my wife before."

"Well!" said Calvin comfortably. "I've been wonderin' ever since you got in whether you was an ill-used man or a darned fool, and now I've found out. Why, you loony, if you've got a wife like all that, why in Tunkett are you goin' to get a bill?"

His voice rang out like a ship's trumpet. The lad shrunk down in his seat, and his face grew dogged and set.

"We was mismated, I tell you!" he said. "She's got a temper!"

"Well, how about you?" asked Calvin. "You ain't got that red hair for nothin', son."

"I know! I have one too," the lad admitted; "and each one stirs the other up and makes it worse. It's no use, I tell you! We get jawin' and the house won't hold us both, so I'm going to clear out."

"Sho!" said Calvin.

They were silent for a few moments, the young husband brooding over his wrongs, Calvin meditating. At last he said slowly, "Young feller, I ain't no lawyer, nor yet wishful to be; but I expect I can cure your case."

"What do you mean?" asked the lad.

"I expect I can cure your case," Calvin repeated deliberately, "for less money by a good sight, and more agreeable all round. Lemme see! two and two is four, and seven times four is twenty-eight, and two more – yes, sir! I'll undertake to cure your case for thirty cents, and do it handsome."

He opened a drawer, and after a careful inspection took out two small objects which he held up. "See them?" he said. "This is your article. All Day Suckers, they're called, and well named. The candy fills the mouth and yet don't crowd it any; the stick is to hold on by, and take it out when necessary. Pure sugar, no glucose in it; not a mite! Pure sugar, cream o' tartar killed, and flavored with fruit surrup. Now, young feller, you take fourteen of them suckers. They're two cents apiece, that's two for every day in the week. Every time you two find you're beginnin' to jaw, in goes your sucker, and you keep it there till you feel pleasant again. Keep that up for a week, and finish up at the end with a Purity Kiss – fifteen cents a dozen, call it two cents apiece, and I'll lay my next lo'd – what's that?"

A sharp rattle was heard. Both men turned round, and saw a light wagon whirling toward them. The horse was galloping; the driver, a young woman in a cloud of red gold hair, was urging him on with whip and voice.

"Well!" said Calvin Parks.

"Great hemlock!" cried the young man. "Katie, stop!" He leaped out over the wheel, and set off running toward the advancing wagon. The young woman pulled up with a jerk.

"Joe!" she cried. "Oh, Joe! come back! I – I'm sorry I bit you!"

She jumped out – over the wheel too – and the two red heads flamed together.

Calvin gazed for a moment, then turned round with a smile.

"I guess they won't need them suckers after all!" he said. "Gitty up, hossy!"

CHAPTER V

CONCERNING PEPPERMINTS

Mary Sands stood in the doorway, leaning on her broom and looking out over the pleasant autumn country. It was a golden morning, and the world shone and sparkled in quite a wonderful way.

The green dooryard had its special show of emeralds, set off here and there by a tuft of dandelion that had escaped the watchful eye of Mr. Sam. The stone wall of the barnyard was almost hidden by the hollyhocks; they were a pretty sight, Mary thought; she did admire hollyhocks.

The vast dog, who had been lying on the door-step, rose slowly, shook himself elaborately, pricked his ears, and looked down the road.

"What is it, Rover?" asked Mary Sands. "Do you feel good this mornin', same as I do? What you lookin' at? Somebody comin' along the road? So there is! It can't be Cousin Sam back again; he hasn't been gone but an hour. Why – can it – it surely is Mr. Parks!"

Involuntarily her hand went up to the smooth ripples of her brown hair; unconsciously she glanced down at her fresh print dress and blue apron.

"I wish't I'd had me a white apron!" she said. "But there! he'll have to take me as he finds me. Workin' time ain't perkin' time, as Gran'm'ther used to say. Good mornin', Mr. Parks! isn't this a pretty day?"

"Good mornin' to you, Miss Hands!" said Calvin Parks as he drove up to the door. "It is a pretty day, and everything to match, far as I can see. And the prettiest thing I've seen this mornin' is you," he added, but not aloud.

"I was lookin' at them hollyhocks," said Mary. "See 'em down by the wall yonder? Ain't they handsome? Them pink and white ones look to me like girls, slim young ones all ready to bob a curtsey. I don't know but you'll think it foolish, but I'm always seein' likenesses between flowers and folks."

"Be you?" said Calvin. "That's a pretty idee now. I believe women folks have pretty idees right along; it must be real agreeable. Now when I see a hollyhock there ain't nothin' to it but hollyhock – except the cheese!" he added meditatively. "I used to think a sight of hollyhock cheese when I was a youngster."

"So did I!" cried Mary with her tinkling laugh. "But aren't you comin' in, Mr. Parks? Do light down! Cousin Sam's gone to market, but Cousin Sim'll be real pleased to see you. He's been feelin' slim for two or three days."

"That so?" said Calvin. "Well, I didn't know as I should stop, more'n just to pass the time o' day, but if he's feelin' slim – " he threw the reins on the horse's neck and clambered out of the wagon.

"Hossy'll be glad to rest a spell, won't you, hossy?"

"He looks real clever!" said Mary. "I should think he'd be pleasant to ride behind."

"You try it some day and see!" said Calvin. "He's the cleverest horse on the ro'd, and the cutest. What do you think he did yesterday? Now I don't know as you'll believe me when I tell you, but it's a fact. I was in at the store down at the Corners, havin' some truck with Si Turner, and there come along a boy as wasn't any more honest than he had to be, and he thought 'twould be smart to reach in over the wheel and help himself to candy out of the drawers. Well, mebbe 'twas smart; but hossy was smarter, for he reached round his head and c'ot him by the seat of his pants – Jerusalem! if you'll excuse the expression, Miss Hands, how that feller did holler! Me and Si come hikin' out, thought he was killed and got the hives besides; when we see what was up, we sot down and laughed till, honest, we had to lean against one another or we'd rolled over an' over on the ground. Hossy held on like a good 'un till I told him to let go, and then he dropped the pants and went to work eatin' grass as if nothin' had been goin' on at all."

"Did you ever?" cried Mary Sands. "I never knew a hoss could have that much sense, Mr. Parks. Why, 'twas like a person more than a dumb critter."

"There's critters and critters!" said Calvin Parks. "Hossy's a prize package, that's a fact. Want a bite, hossy? tain't dinner time yet, but a bite won't hurt you."

He took a nose-bag from the wagon and hung it over the brown horse's head. The horse, who had gone to sleep as soon as he stopped, opened one eye, blinked at his master, and shut it again.

"Oh, all right!" said Calvin. "Any time; suit yourself! Only I can't wag your jaws for ye, ye know."

Mary had turned to enter the house, saying something about telling Cousin he was coming.

"Oh! wait just a minute, Miss Hands!" Calvin called. "I took the liberty – " he rummaged among his drawers, and finally brought out a small parcel.

"I dono – most prob'ly it ain't just what you'd like. I couldn't tell what flavor you'd prefer, and I always think myself that pep'mint is the wholesomest – "

Amazed and embarrassed at finding himself embarrassed, Calvin paused awkwardly, holding the box of peppermints in his hand; but when he saw Mary Sands blushing in the delightful red and brown way she had, and caught the twinkle in her eye, he was suddenly at ease again.

"You try 'em!" he said simply, and gave her the box.

"Why, Mr. Parks!" cried Mary. "You don't mean to say you brought these for me? Well, you are more than kind, I must say. Why, they're deleecious! There's nothing like pep'mint to my taste; now this is surely a treat. I'm a thousand times obliged to you, Mr. Parks. These don't taste like boughten candy; there's a real kind of home-made flavor to 'em."

"That's right!" said Calvin. "That's just it; they are home-made. Them pep'mints is made by an old gentleman in East Cyrus. I lighted on 'em by accident, as you might say, and 'twas a good job I did."

"How was that?" Mary inquired civilly.

"Why, I ain't greatly acquainted in these parts, you know, Miss Hands; been away so much, you understand, and never was one to go much when I was to home, only amongst the near neighbors. I dono as ever I was in East Cyrus before. 'Tis a pleasant-lookin' place. Nice street; not many stores, but what there was was ship-shape and Bristol fashion; folks personable and well-appearin'; I was pleased with East Cyrus. I druv along kind o' slow, lookin' for my kind of a place; sure enough, I come to a little store with candy in the window. Hossy saw it too, and stopped of his own accord.

"'That so?' says I. 'Friend of yours, hossy?' He nods his head real sociable, hossy doos, and I was just goin' to ramble down out of that squirrel-cage, when the door opens kind o' smart, and someone hollers out, 'I don't want any! You can go right along!'

"'Can!' says I. 'Now that's real accommodatin' of you. Anywheres special you'd like me to go? That's what I come to inquire about,' I says.

"He was a little man, kind o' dried up, but yet smart-lookin', and he was smart. He looks at hossy. 'You can go to Thunder!' he says.

"'First turn to the right, or second to the left?' says I. Then he looks at me. 'Hello!' he says; 'it ain't you!'

"'No,' I says; 'it ain't. It's my half-uncle's widder from out west,' I says.

"He kind o' laughed. 'What are you doin' with his hoss, then?' says he.

"'I bought it off'n him,' says I; 'it's my hoss now, and my team. Like to know how many teeth we've got between us?'

"'Well, all the same I don't want any!' he says; and he starts to go back into the store.

"'Excuse me!' I says, as polite as I knew how. 'Would you have any objections to namin' over the things you don't want? I didn't know as I'd offered you anything, but mebbe I done it in my sleep.'

"'Glucose is one thing,' he says. 'Terry alba, coal-tar, plaster-of-Paris; them's some of the things I don't want. And you're another. Is that enough?'

"'Not quite I says. 'Go slow, shipmate! If you wanted them things the wust way in the world you couldn't get 'em off'n me, 'cause I ain't got 'em."

"He grunted. 'Tell that to the monkey!' he says.

"'I am,' I says, 'or the nearest I can see to one.'

"'He always had 'em he says,'and tried to sell 'em to me every time he come by.'

"'I know!' says I. 'I found 'em in the stock, and I sot 'em on the fire and seen 'em burn. Gitty up, hossy!' I says. 'We'll go on and see if there's any place in this village where they keep manners,' I says, 'and we'll send this old gentleman a half a pound to stock up with!' I says.

"'Hold on!' he says. 'I spoke too quick. Come in and we'll talk.'

"So I went. Had half a mind not to, but 'twan't the sensible half. I tell you, I had a real pleasant time, Miss Hands. Come to get him smoothed down and combed out, and he was as pleasant an old gentleman as ever I see. But he was an old-fashioned candy-maker, you see, and he didn't like these new-fangled ways any more than what I do. Never had a pound of glucose on his premises, nor never will; nothin' but pure sugar. We had a real good time together; and he gave me them pep'mints, and I'm goin' to have 'em reg'lar every week. He's got a little kitchen in back there that's a perfect pictur' to look at. I'd like to have you see it, Miss Hands, honest I would."