The Wooing of Calvin Parks

She smiled at Mittie May, who glowed with pride and pleasure. Calvin thought he had seen only one smile brighter than Miss Fidely's.

"It did seem real providential," she went on, "if only she could catch you, and I'm more than pleased she did. Here's my bags all ready," she pointed to a neat pile that lay on a table beside her; "and if you've got the goods to fill 'em, I guess we sha'n't need to do much bargainin'. I've got the money ready too."

"I guess that's all right!" said Calvin, rising. "I'll bring my stock right in, what's left of it, and you can take your pick. I've sold the heft of it, but yet there's a plenty still to fill them bags twice't over."

"Mittie May, it's time for you to go," said Miss Fidely. "Your Ma'll be lookin' for you to help get supper. Mebbe you can run over to-night to hang the bags, or first thing in the morning."

"I'll hang the bags!" said Calvin Parks.

"Oh!" said Miss Fidely. "You're real kind, but that's too much to ask, isn't it?"

"I guess not!" said Calvin. "I guess I'd rather trim a Christmas Tree than eat my supper any day in the week. You run along, Mittie May; I'll tend to this."

The rose and violet were deepening over the snow-fields, and stars were piercing the golden veil of sunset. Calvin filled the brown horse's nose-bag and hung it over his head, and covered him carefully with the buffalo robe.

"You rest easy a spell, hossy!" he said. "This is trade, you know. Christmas Eve, you can't expect to get to bed real early."

Hossy shook himself, whinnied "All right!" and addressed himself to his supper. Calvin pulled out one drawer after another, studying their contents with frowning anxiety. "She's goin' to have the best there is!" he said. "There's a look in that lady's eyes that puts me in mind of Miss Hands; and take that with her bein' afflicted and all – I guess we'll give her a good set-off, hossy. I guess – that – is – what we'll do!"

While he spoke, he was piling box upon box, jar upon jar, holding the pile firm with his chin. Entering the house again, he deposited them carefully on the table, and proceeded to spread them out.

"There!" he said. "I guess you'll find what you want here. All the candies, stick, drop and fancy; tutti-frutti and pepsin chewing-gum, chocolate creams and marshmallow goods. You didn't say what amount you was calc'latin' to lay out – ?"

Miss Fidely looked round her carefully. "I didn't care to say before the little gal!" she said. "My neighbors is real careful of me, and they grudge my spendin' so much money. I tell 'em it's my circus and fair and sociable and spring bunnet all in one. There! I calc'late to spend five dollars, and I've got it to spend. I'm a stranger to you, sir, and mebbe you'd like to see it before we go any further."

"I guess not!" said Calvin Parks. "I guess I know a straight stick when I see one – " his eyes fell on the twisted outlines covered by the brown calico skirt, and he finished his sentence in silence. "Your one comfort," he said, "is that it ain't likely the Lord made another fool like you when he see the way you'd act."

"That's a handsome sum of money," he added aloud. "You'll get a handsome set-out for it."

"I've got no one belongin' to me," said the lame woman simply; "and I'm far from church privileges. I never touch my burial money, but I do feel that I have a right to this. Well! you have got elegant goods, I must say. Now we'll get down to business, if agreeable to you."

It was most agreeable to Calvin Parks, and he made it so to Miss Fidely. She must taste every variety of sugar-plum, so that she could know what she was giving.

"That's trade!" he said, when she remonstrated. "That's straight trade; no samples, no buyers! You try this lemon taffy! I do regard it as extry. These goods is all pure sugar, every mite; I know the man as made 'em, and helped some in the makin'. Some of the pineapple sticks? That's a lovely candy to my mind. I helped make these only yesterday morning. You try a morsel; here's a broken stick!"

"Why, I never had no such candy as this before!" cried Miss Fidely, crunching the white and scarlet stick. "Why, 'tis as different from the goods I've bought before as new-laid eggs is from store. I guess you'll have a steady customer from now on, as many Christmases as I have to live."

"That so?" said Calvin. "Well, I aim to give satisfaction, and so does the man who makes for me. All pure sugar; no glucose, terry alby, nor none of them things, destroyin' folks's stomachs. Nothin' else than poison, some of the stuff you'll find in the market is; but good sugar and good flavorin' is wholesome, I claim, taken moderate, you know, and the system craves it, or so appears to do. Say we commence to fill the bags now, what? And so you toll in the neighborin' children and give 'em a Christmas Tree! Now that's a pleasant thing to do; I don't know as ever I heard of a pleasanter."

Miss Fidely glowed again, and again she looked like Mary Sands. "I've been doin' it for ten years now," she said, "and shall, I expect, as long as the Lord thinks I'm best off here. You see, not havin' the use of my limbs, I can't go much; and I do love children, and they've got the habit of runnin' in here for a cooky or a story or like that. This ain't a wealthy neighborhood; the soil's rather poor; folks has moved away; I scarcely know how it is, but yet 'tis so. And, too, they haven't had the habit of makin' of Christmas same as they do in most places. Some ten year ago I spent a winter in the city. There was a man thought he could cure me of my lameness, or made me think so; and though I was old enough to know better, I give in, and went and let him try. Well, I didn't get any help that way, but I got an amazin' deal other ways. There was a Tree to the hospital where I was, and they carried me in to see it; and I said that minute of time, 'There shan't any child round our way go without a Tree after this, as long as I live!' I says. I count it a great mercy that I've been able to keep that promise. I begin Near Year's day to make my presents – doin' it evenin's and odd times, you know, and 'tis my child's play all the year through till Christmas comes again. They ask me sometimes if I ain't lonesome; any one can't be lonesome, I tell 'em, while they're makin' Christmas presents."

"You don't live all sole alone?" asked Calvin Parks.

"Certin I do! I've no kin of my own, and them as wished to marry me warn't more than what I had time to say no to," she laughed gleefully; "and I wouldn't be bothered with no stranger messin' round. I'm used to myself, you see, but I don't know as any person else could get along with me real well, come to stay right along. I expect I'm as caniptious as an old hen. The neighbors is real good; any one couldn't ask for better help than they be when I need help, but 'tis seldom I do. I'm strong and well, and everything is handy by, as you may say. Only when it comes Christmas, I can't fetch in the tree nor yet mount up to trim the upper branches, and then I have to call on some one. My! ain't you smart? you've got all them bags hung while I've been talkin'. They do look pretty, don't they?"

"They look handsome!" Calvin assented warmly, "they certainly do. But if you'll excuse me takin' a liberty, I think there's just one extry touch this tree needs, and with your permission I'm goin' to put it on. Excuse me a half a minute!"

He ran out, and soon returned beaming with pleasure and good will, his hands full of small tissue paper parcels.

"I had these all wrapped up separate," he said, "'cause they're fraygile. How many children did you say there was? Thirty? Well, if that ain't a nice fit! Here's three dozen left; and not one of them is goin' any further to-night."

He unwrapped the parcels, and displayed to Miss Fidely's wondering eyes dogs, lions, camels, rabbits, all sparkling in barley sugar, all glittering in the sunset light. The lame woman clasped her hands, and her eyes shone.

"Oh!" she cried. "I see the like of them in the hospital; I never see them before or since. I can't believe it's true. Oh! I do believe the Lord sent you, sir!"

"I believe so too!" said Calvin Parks.

Suddenly Miss Fidely's face changed.

"My goodness!" she cried. "I never thought, and I know you never either. I can't take them, sir! I've spent all my money, and more too, I expect, for I know well you give me extry measure in some of them candies. But I'm just as pleased at you takin' the pains to bring 'em in, and the children haven't seen 'em, so there's no harm."

"Now what a way that is to talk!" said Calvin, "for a lady as sensible as you be. Didn't I know you had laid out your money, and a good sum, too? Did you think you was the only person that liked to do a little something for the children Christmas time? Now ain't that a sight! Them's my present to Mittie May and her friends, that's all. Now see me hang 'em on!"

He turned hastily to the tree, for Miss Fidely was crying, and Calvin did not know what the mischief got into women-folks to make 'em act that way. Drawing a ball of pink string from his pocket, he proceeded to hang his menagerie, talking the while.

"I've had quite a time to-day. Any one sees a good deal of human natur' drivin' a candy route, yes sir, I would say ma'am! Hossy and me has come a good ways to-day, and seen 'most all kinds. Are you acquainted any with a woman name of Weazle, down the ro'd about four mile from here? Ain't? Well, she's a case, I tell you. Long skinny kind of woman, looks like she'd bleed sour milk – skim – if she scratched her finger. She made up her mind I was goin' to cheat her, and she warn't goin' to be cheated, not she. Quite a circus we had.

"'How much is them marshmallers?' she says.

"'Twenty cents a pound,' I says.

"'It's too much!' she says.

"'Is that so?' I says.

"'It's scandalous!' she says.

"'I want to know!' I says.

"'You won't sell none at that price!' she says.

"'Is that a fact?' I says.

"'Well, what'll you take for em?' she says.

"'Twenty cents a pound,' I says.

"'I tell you it's too much!' she says.

"'I know it's too much for you,' I says, 'and so is the marshmallows. They might give you the dyspepsy!' I says. 'Gitty up, hossy!' and I druv off and left her standin' there with her mouth open. There! now they're all up and I must be ramblin' along, or I sha'n't get nowheres by the end of time."

Miss Fidely had dried her eyes, but the look she fixed on Calvin disturbed him almost as much as the tears.

"I won't say nothin' more," she said; "I see the kind you are; but I wish you could come in to-morrow and see the children. I expect their faces will be a sight, when they see them elegant presents; yes, sir, I do! I expect you'd never forget this Christmas, as I'm certin I never shall. Oh!" she cried with a sudden outburst. "You good man, I hope you'll get your heart's desire, whatever it is."

"I hope I shall!" said Calvin Parks gravely.

"And now," said Miss Fidely, brightening up, "we'll settle. If you'll just lift the lid of that old teapot standin' on the mantel-shelf, you'll find three one-dollar bills and a two. I wish 'twas a hundred!" she cried heartily.

Calvin Parks stepped to the mantelpiece and lifted the lid of the teapot.

"I guess you made a mistake this time," he said cheerily; "where'll I look next?"

Miss Fidely turned very pale. "What – what do you mean?" she faltered.

Calvin handed her the teapot; it was empty.

"You forgot and put it somewheres else!" he said. "Anybody's liable to do that when they have a thing on their mind. I've done it myself time and again. How about a bureau drawer; what? We'll find it; don't you be scared!"

"No!" said Miss Fidely faintly. "No, sir! it was there. I counted it last night the last thing, and there ain't no one – my Lord! that tramp!"

"What tramp?"

"He came here this morning and asked for some breakfast. He seemed so poor and mis'able, and he told such a pitiful story, I went out to get him a drink of milk – he must have taken it. I remember, he was standin' over there when I come in, but I never mistrusted – "

Her voice failed, and she covered her eyes with her hands. Calvin Parks cast a rapid glance behind him, and ascertaining the position of the door, began to edge quietly toward it.

"Don't you fret!" he said soothingly. "I shall be round this way again some time; mebbe you'll find it some place when you least expect. I've known such things to happen, oftentimes."

"No! no!" cried the cripple, her distress increasing momentarily. "It's gone, sir! The look in that man's face comes back to me, and I know now what it meant. Oh! he must have a hard heart, to rob a cripple woman of her one pleasure, and on Christmas Eve!"

She flung her hands apart with a wild gesture, but the next moment controlled herself and spoke quietly but rapidly. "I am ashamed to trouble you, sir, but if you'll take down the bags I'll empt 'em as careful as I can. I wouldn't trouble you if I could help myself."

"I – I'm afraid I can't stop!" muttered Calvin; and he hung his head as he spoke, for a dry voice was saying in his ear, "Put this straight to yourself; are you running a candy route or an orphan asylum?"

"Oh! if Mittie May would only come!" cried the lame woman. "I'll have to trouble you, sir; it won't take you long."

Calvin mumbled something about calling again.

"No!" cried Miss Fidely. "There'd be no use in your calling again; that's all I can save in a year, and there's no more – "

She stopped short, and the blood rushed into her thin face.

"No!" she said after a pause. "I can't take the burial money, even for the children. Oh! you kind, good man, take down the bags, and take your candy back!"

"I've got to see to my hoss!" cried Calvin irritably. "Hear him hollerin'? Jest wait a half a minute – " he sneaked out of the door, closed it carefully behind him, and bolted for his sleigh. He snatched the nose-bag from Hossy's nose, the robe from his back; clambering hastily in, he cast a guilty glance around him, and saw – Mittie May, standing a few paces off, staring at him round-eyed.

"Here!" he cried. "You tell her I ain't feelin' real well, and I've got to get home. Tell her – tell her my name's Santy Claus, and my address is the North Pole. And – look here! tell her Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, and the same to you! Gitty up, hossy! gitty up!" and laying his whip over the astonished flanks of the brown horse, Calvin Parks fled down the road as if Blücher and the Prussians were after him.