Kilo. Part 14

"Certainly," said Eliph'. "But I was thinking that this book ought to be mentioned. The advent of a book like Jarby's Encyclopedia of Knowledge and Compendium of Literature, Science and Art, containing, as it does, selections from the world's best literature, hints and helps for each and every day in the year, recipes for the kitchen, the dying words of all the world's great men, with their lives, et cetery, ought to be noticed. I was wondering if you would have s.p.a.ce to run in a little card about that book."

T. J. came forward and brushed a heap of exchanges from the only chair in the office, and motioned to it with his hand. Eliph' laid his book on the editor's desk, and picked up a copy of last week's TIMES. He ran his eye over the columns, and stopped at the advertis.e.m.e.nt of Skinner, the butcher.

"I was thinking of something about twice the size of this," he suggested.

T. J. smiled and mentioned his rate for the s.p.a.ce. It was not much, and Eliph' nodded.

"Every week, until forbid," he said, "and I guess I'd better subscribe.

I am going to live right her in Kilo right along now, and the man that don't take his home paper never knows what is going on."

T. J. was pleased. He was more pleased when Eliph' pulled a long purse from his pocket, and paid for one insertion of the advertis.e.m.e.nt and for the subscription. The editor pulled a pad of paper toward himself, and wrote hastily, while Eliph' briefly mentioned facts. When the next number of the TIMES appeared there was a well-displayed advertis.e.m.e.nt of Jarby's Encyclopedia, with Eliph' Hewlitt mentioned as agent, but more important to Eliph' was the "local item" that stood at the very top of the local column.

"We are glad to announce that Kilo has secured as a citizen Eliph'

Hewlitt, a man whose work in behalf of good literature ent.i.tles him to the highest praise. Mr. Hewlitt, who intends to make his home with us permanently, is representative of the celebrated work, Jarby's Encyclopedia of Knowledge and Compendium of Literature, Science and Art, published by Jarby & Goss, Greater New York, and his travels in behalf of that work have taken him to all parts of the nation. To have a man of such extensive travel decide to make Kilo his home is an honor.

Mr. Hewlitt says that in all his travels he never found a town more up-to-date and progressive for its size than our own little burg. We heartily welcome him to our midst.

"We have it on good authority that Mr. Hewlitt is a man of considerable means, ama.s.sed in carrying on his work as a disseminator of literature, and that he intends, in the near future, to purchase a home here. He will probably buy a lot, and erect a dwelling that will be a credit to him and to our little burg. At present he is stopping with Doctor Weaver, the leading physician of our little burg.

"We learn that our new citizen has followed a habit universally adopted by many authors, theatrical artists, and others gifted in various ways, and early adopted a NOM DE PLUME, choosing the name of Eliph' Hewlitt because of its una.s.suming simplicity. His real name is Samuel Mills, and he is the son of the late W. P. Mills, of Franklin, gifted author of the deservedly famous poetical work, 'The wages of Sin.' Early in his career our new citizen found himself overshadowed by the fame of his father, and unwilling to succeed buy by and because of his own efforts, he chose a NOM DE PLUME, which he has ever since used. This truly American independence does him the greatest credit.

"Mr. Mills, or Eliph' Hewlitt, as he prefers to be known, is an old schoolmate of James Wilkins, the prominent livery and hotel man of our little burg. Again we welcome him to our midst."

This was headed, "Eliph' Hewlitt Now a Citizen of Kilo!" and it was all the introduction the little book agent needed--except to Miss Sally.

When se read it she turned pale. A book agent living in the very town was more than she could bear.

But there was another item of news that Eliph' left with T. J. that went into the same issue of the TIMES. This stated that Mrs. Smith, of New York, and Miss Susan Bell were visiting Miss Sally Briggs, and T. J. had completed the slight information given him by Eliph' by a call at Miss Sally's. It was after Eliph' had told T. J. that he meant to make his home in Kilo that the enterprising editor suggested Doc Weaver's as a good boarding place, and the little book agent was glad enough to settle himself in a real home, for the Kilo Hotel was hardly more than an annex to the liver, feed and sale stable part of Jim Wilkins' business, and any man with half an eye could see that it was not, as a home for men, to be compared to the comfort with the stable, as a home for horses. Jim would have been the last man in Kilo to expect a visitor to remain in the Kilo Hotel more than two days. Before the end of the day Eliph' had arranged with Mrs. Doc Weaver for board and lodging, and had moved his big valise to the little back room on the second floor, from the low six-paned windows of which he could look out over the cornfield that environed Kilo on that side.

At supper he met Doc Weaver himself, and found him, as Kilo p.r.o.nounced him, "a ready talker." Eliph' and Doc Weaver were sitting at the supper table, earnestly engaged in conversation, while the doctor's wife cleared away the dishes, and Eliph' was pouring out the knowledge he had absorbed from Jarby's Encyclopedia of Knowledge and Compendium of Literature, Science and Art. The doctor was having a mental feast.

Behind his spectacles his eyes glowed, and in exact ratio, as the doctor's spirits rose, the frown on his wife's forehead deepened.

The doctor had few opportunities for discussing any subjects but the most ordinary. Neighborhood gossip, the weather, the price of corn, were the usual sources of conversation in Kilo, except when an election gave a political tinge to discussions, or when a revival turned all attention to religious matters; but the doctor's mind scorned these limitation, and he found few persons from year's end to year's end to whom he could speak openly on his favorite themes.

To Kilo in general the doctor was something of a mystery. Ordinarily he was the most silent of men, but on occasion, as for instance when he could b.u.t.tonhole an intelligent stranger, he dissolved into a torrent of words.

Doc Weaver held views. He believed there were other things besides the Republican party and the Methodist Church, and being liberal-minded, he believed all these other things in turn, and he had believed them enthusiastically. He could not help thinking that he was of a little finer clay than Skinner, or Wilkins, or Colonel Guthrie. Kilo considered the doctor one of her peculiar inst.i.tutions; as Kilo took the ever-joking Toole seriously, so she took the ever serious doctor good-naturedly, but not too seriously. He was "jist Doc Weaver," and Kilo reserved the right to laugh at him in private, and to brag about him to strangers, and they were apt to "joke" him about his beliefs.

As he was sensitive and dreaded the rough raillery of his neighbors, he kept his enthusiasms to himself. He was like an overcharged bottle of soda water.

Eliph' and the doctor were discussing Christian Science and faith cures generally, and when the doctor's wife pa.s.sed to and fro, catching a phrase now and then, a look of deep anxiety spread over her face, until, as she brushed the crumbs from the red tablecloth, her shoulders seemed to droop in dejection.

When she smoothed the cloth and set the lamp on the mat in the center the doctor glanced at his watch and arose. He b.u.t.toned his frock coat over his breast (it was the only frock coat in Kilo), and drew on his driving gloves, holding his hands on a level with his chin. It was a habit, an aristocratic touch, which, like his side-whiskers, detached him from the rest of Kilo. He had once worn a silk hat, but he soon abandoned it for gray felt; for even he saw that a silk hat emphasized his individuality too strongly for comfort. It was a tempting mark for s...o...b..a.l.l.s in winter.

When the doctor had closed the door and stepped from the front porch, his wife sank into a chair.

"I do hope you won't git mad at what I'm goin' to say, Mister Hewlitt,"

she said, "'cause I ain't goin' to say it for no such thing; but I couldn't help hearin' what you was sayin' to Doc while I was reddin' off the table. I wisht you wouldn't let him git to talkin' about new-fangled religions and sich. It ain't for his good nor mine."

Eliph' nodded good-naturedly.

"Why, ma'm," he exclaimed, "we were only discussing faith cures, and neither of us believes in them--wholly, that is. Of course everyone who has read the chapter on "India, It's Religions and Its History,' in Jarby's Encyclopedia of Knowledge and Compendium of Literature, Science and Art, must to some extend admit the power of mind over matter. But if you'd rather not have me, I'll not discuss it again. There are one thousand and one other interesting subjects treated of in this great book, any one of which will please the studious mind."

"I'd rather you wouldn't, if you don't mind," said the doctor's wife simply.

Eliph' Hewlitt pushed back his chair, and arose as he saw the lines of worry leave the face of his hostess. He turned to the side table and looked among the books that lay on it.

Mrs. Weaver sprang to her feet.

"Land's sakes!" she cried. "I know what you're lookin' for. You're lookin' for that book of yourn, ain't you? It's right there behind them wax flowers on that what-not. I seen it layin' around and I jist shoved it back there so Doc wouldn't git at it."

"Well, you sit down, ma'm," said the book agent. "I can get it. But there was no need to be so particular. The doctor knows how to hand a book as well as the next man."

The doctor's wife drew her darning basket from the side table and turned its contents into her lap.

"'Twasn't that," she said; "I'd never have thought of that, I guess. I hit it because I didn't know if 'twas a proper book for Doc. It's got a kind of a queer name."

Eliph' turned the book over in his hand. It was the first time anyone had suggested that the volume might be dangerous. He looked up and smiled.

"It would not harm the youngest child, ma'm," he said, "unless it fell on it. I wouldn't harm a baby."

"Well, I guess you'll think I'm awful foolish about Doc," said Mrs.

Weaver, "but I wasn't goin' to take no chances, and the name kind of riled. Me. And them pictures of ladies bending."

"Physical Culture," said Eliph', "How to Develop the Body, How to Maintain Perfect Health, How to Keep Young and Beautiful. Page 542. Why, ma'm, that's just a system of training for the body. It makes one more graceful, just like running and jumping makes a boy strong."

The doctor's wife heaved a sigh of relief.

"Well, I guess that won't hurt Doc any if he does read it," she laughed.

"I thought it was some new-fangled religion or other, and I allus keep sich things out of Doc's reach. Mebby you'll think I'm crazy, but when you know Doc as well as I do, you'll find out mortal quick he is to take up with new notions, and it would be jist like him to give up his sittin' in church and go and be a Physical Culture, if there was any sich belief. I don't mind much his bein' a Socialist, or any of them politercal things, if he wants to,--and goodness knows he does,--'cause they keep his mind busy; but since I got him to jine church I'm goin'

to keep him jined, Physical Culture or no Physical Culture. I seen them pictures, and they riled me right up, to think of Doc's goin' round wrapped up in them sheets, or whatever it is on them folks in the pictures. Mebby it's all right for Physical Culturers, but I don't ever hope to see Doc so."

Eliph' Hewlitt laughed a thin little laugh, and Mrs. Weaver smiled.

"Now, you do think I'm foolish, don't you?" she inquired. "But I had sich a time with Doc 'fore I married him that I'm scared half to death every time I hear a long word I ain't right sure of. I was 'most worried out of my wits last Summer when Miss Crawford was lecturin' on Christian Science. It was jist about even whether Doc 'ud git in line or not. He had an awful struggle, poor feller, 'cause he can't bear to have nothin'

new to believe in com round and him not believe in it. Religions is to Doc jist like teethin' is to babies; they got to teethe, and seem like Doc's got to catch new religions. He ain't never real happy when he ain't got no queer fandango to poke his nose into. But he didn't git Christian Scientisted.

"I says to him, 'Doc, ain't you an allopathy?' And he says, 'Yes, certainly.' 'Well,' I says, 'if you go and be a Christian Science you can't be no allopathy, Doc. Christian Science and allopathy don't mix,'

I says, 'and you'd starve, that's what you'd do. I leave it to you, Doc, if you quit big pills, how'd you ever git a livin'? There ain't no big pills set down in the Christian Science book.'

"Well, he poked his eyes up at the ceiling, and says, 'I might write, Loreny.' 'Yes,' I says, 'so you might. And what 'd you write, Doc Weaver?' I says. 'Shakespeare?' And Doc shet right up, and never said another word. It was a mean thing for me to say, but I was awful worried."

"Shakespeare?" inquired Eliph'.

"Yes, that's the word--Shakespeare," said Mrs. Weaver. "It come purty nigh keeping me from marrying Doc. You see, Doc ain't like common folks.

Don's got sich broad ideas of things. Lib'ral, he calls it, but I name it jist common foolish. He's got to give every new-fangled scheme a show. I guess, off and on, Doc's believed most every queer name in the dictionary, and some that ain't been put in yet. I used to tell him they didn't git them up fast enough to keep up with him. He's got a wonderful mind, Doc has.

"I hain't no notion how ever Doc got started believin' things, but mebby he got in with a bad lot at the doctor school he went to. Doc told me hisself they cut up dead folks. Anyhow, he come back from Chicago a regular atheist; but that was before I knowed him. He lived up at Clarence, and he didn't come to Kilo 'til about ten years after that, and he'd got pretty well along by then, and had got right handy at believin' things.

"Well, when Doc come to Kilo pa had jist died an' ma an' me had to take in boarders to git along; so Doc come to our house to board. That's how Doc an' me got to know each other. I was about as old as Doc, and we wasn't either of us very chickenish, but I thought Doc was the finest man I'd ever saw, an' exceptin' what I'm tellin' you, I ain't ever had cause to change my mind.

"I'd never sa so many books as Doc brought--more'n we've got now. I burned a lot when we got married--Tom Paine and Bob Ingersoll, and all I wasn't sure was orthodoxy. Why, we had more books than we've got in the Kilo Sunday School Lib'ry. 'Specially Shakespeare books, some Shakespeare writ hisself, an' some that was writ about him. Doc was real took up with Shakespeare them days.