A Knight of the Nineteenth Century Part 23

"One would think, from what you said, your cat and dog had a hard time of it; but two more sleek, fat, and lazy animals I never saw."

"No thanks to me. I s'pose they've got clear consciences."

As the table began to fairly groan with good things, Haldane said:

"Look here, Mr. Growther, are you in the habit of giving disreputable people such a dinner as that?"

"If it's good enough for me, it's good enough for you," was the tart reply.

"O, I'm not finding fault; I only wanted you to know that I would be grateful for much less."

"I'm not doin' it to please you, but to spite myself."

"Have your own way, of course," said Haldane, laughing: "it's a little odd, though, that your spite against yourself should mean so much practical kindness to me."

"Hold on!" cried his host, as Haldane was about to attack the viands; "ain't you goin' to say grace?"

"Well," said the young man, somewhat embarra.s.sed, "I would rather you would say it for me."

"I might as well eat your dinner for you."

"Mr. Growther, you are an unusually honest man, and I think a kind one; so I am not going to act out any lies before you. Although your dinner is the best one I have seen for many a long day, or am likely to see, yet, to tell you the truth, I could swear over it easier than I could pray over it."

"A-a-h! that's the right spirit; that's the way I ought to feel. Now you see what a mean hypocrite I am. I'm no Christian--far from it--and yet I always have a sneakin' wish to say grace over my victuals. As if it would do anybody any good! If I'd jest swear over 'em, as you say, then I would be consistent."

"Are you in earnest in all this strange talk?"

"Yes, I am; I hate myself."

"Why?"

"Because I know all about myself. A-a-h!"

"How many poor, hungry people have you fed since the year opened?"

"Your question shows me jest what I am. I could tell you within three or four. I found myself a-countin' of 'em up and a-gloryin' in it all the tother night, takin' credit to myself for givin' away a few victuals after I had had plenty myself. Think of a man gittin' self-righteous over givin' to some poor fellow-critters what he couldn't eat himself!

If that ain't meanness, what is it? A-a-h!"

"But you haven't told me how many you have fed."

"No, and I ain't a-goin' to--jest to spite myself. I want to tell you, and to take credit for it, but I'll head myself off this time."

"But you could eat these things which you are serving to me--if not to-day, why, then to-morrow."

"To-morrow's income will provide for to-morrow. The Lord shows he's down on this savin' and h.o.a.rdin' up of things, for he makes 'em get musty right away; and if anything spiles on my hands I'm mad enough to bite myself in two."

"But if you treat all stragglers as you do me, you do not give away odds and ends and what's left over. This coffee is fine old Java, and a more delicate ham I never tasted."

"Now you hit me twice. I will have the best for myself, instead of practicin' self-denial and economy. Then I'm always wantin' to get some second-hand victuals to give away, but I daresn't. You see I read the Bible sometimes, and it's the most awfully oncomfortable book that ever was written. You know what the Lord says in it--or you ought to--about what we do for the least of these his brethren; that means such as you, only you're a sort of black sheep in the family; and if words have any sense at all, the Lord takes my givin' you a dinner the same as if I gave it to him. Now s'pose the Lord came to my house, as he did to Mary and Martha's, and I should git him up a slimpsy dinner of second-hand victuals, and stand by a-chucklin' that I had saved twenty-five cents on it, wouldn't that be meanness itself? Some time ago I had a ham that I couldn't and wouldn't eat, and they wouldn't take it back at the store, so I got some of the Lord's poor brethren to come to dinner, and I palmed it off on them. But I had to cuss myself the whole evenin' to pay up for it! A-a-h!"

"By Jove!" cried Haldane, dropping his knife and fork, and looking admiringly at his host, who stood on the hearth, running his fingers through his shock of white hair, his shriveled and bristling aspect making a marked contrast with his sleek and lazy cat and dog--"by Jove, you are that I call a Christian!"

"Now, look here, young man," said Mr. Growther, wrathfully, "though you are under no obligations to me, you've got no business makin' game of me and callin' me names, and I won't stand it. You've got to be civil and speak the truth while you're on my premises, whether you want to or no."

Haldane shrugged his shoulders, laughed, and made haste with his dinner, for with such a gusty and variable host he might not get a chance to finish it. As he glanced around the room, however, and saw how cosey and inviting it might be made by a little order and homelike arrangement, he determined to fix it up according to his own ideas, if he could accomplish it without actually coming to blows with the occupant.

"Who keeps house for you?" he asked.

"Didn't I tell you n.o.body could stand me!"

"Will you stand me for about half an hour while I fix up this room for you?"

"No!"

"What will you do if I attempt it?"

"I'll set the dog on you."

"Nothing worse?" asked Haldane, with a laughing glance at the lazy cur.

"You might take something."

An expression of sharp pain crossed the young man's face; the sunshine faded out of it utterly, and he said in a cold, constrained voice, as he rose from the table:

"Oh, I forgot for a moment that I am a thief in the world's estimation."

"That last remark of mine was about equal to a kick, wasn't it?"

"A little worse."

"Ain't you used to 'em yet?"

"I ought to be."

"Why, do many speak out as plain as that?"

"They act it out just as plainly. Since you don't trust me, you had better watch me, lest I put some cord-wood in my pocket."

"What do you want to do?"

"If the world is going to insist upon it that I am a scoundrel to the end of the chapter, I want to find some deep water, and get under it,"

was the reckless reply.

"A-a-h! Didn't I say we respectable people and the devil was in partnership over you? He wants to get you under deep water as soon as possible, and we're all a-helpin' him along. Young man, I _am_ afraid of you, like the rest, and it seems to me that I think more of my old duds here than of your immortal soul that the devil has almost got. But I'm goin' to spite him and myself for once. I'm goin' down town after the evenin' paper, and, instead of lockin' up, as I usually do, I shall leave you in charge. I know it's risky, and I hate to do it, but it seems to me that you ought ter have sense enough to know that if you take all I've got you would be jest that much wuss off;" and before Haldane could remonstrate or reply he took a curiously twisted and gnarled cane that resembled himself and departed.

CHAPTER XXIII