Mrs. Cliff's Yacht Part 7

It was not long before Mr. Burke began to be a very important personage in Plainton. It was generally known that he intended to buy land and settle in the neighborhood, and as he was a rich man, evidently inclined to be liberal in his expenditures, this was a matter of great interest both in social and business circles.

He often drove out to survey the surrounding country, but when he was perceived several times standing in front of an old house at the corner of the street near Mrs. Cliff's residence, it was supposed that he might have changed his mind in regard to a country place, and was thinking of building in the town.

He was not long considered a stranger in the place. Mrs. Cliff frequently spoke of him as a valued friend, and there was reason to believe that in the various adventures and dangers of which they had heard, Mr. Burke had been of great service to their old friend and neighbor, and it was not unlikely that his influence had had a good deal to do with her receipt of a portion of the treasure discovered by the commander of the expedition.

Several persons had said more than once that they could not see why Mrs.

Cliff should have had any claim upon this treasure, except, perhaps, to the extent of her losses. But if she had had a friend in camp,--and Mr.

Burke was certainly a friend,--it was easy to understand why he would do the best he could, at a time when money was so plenty, for the benefit of one whom he knew to be a widow in straitened circ.u.mstances.

So Mr. Burke was looked upon not only as a man of wealth and superior tastes in regard to food and personal comfort, but as a man of a liberal and generous disposition. Furthermore, there was no pride about him.

Often on his return from his drives, his barouche and pair, which Mr.

Williams had obtained in Harrington for his guest's express benefit, would stop in front of Mrs. Cliff's modest residence; and two or three times he had taken that good lady and w.i.l.l.y Croup to drive with him.

But Mrs. Cliff did not care very much for the barouche. She would have preferred a little phaeton and a horse which she could drive herself. As for her horse and the two-seated wagon, that was declared by most of the ladies of the town to be a piece of absolute extravagance. It was used almost exclusively by w.i.l.l.y, who was known to deal with shops in the most distant part of the town in order that she might have an excuse, it was said, to order out that wagon and have Andrew Marks to drive her.

Of course they did not know how often Mrs. Cliff had said to herself that it was really not a waste of money to keep this horse, for w.i.l.l.y was no longer young; and if she could save her any weary steps, she ought to do it, and at the same time relieve a little the congested state of her income.

Moreover, Mr. Burke was not of an unknown family. He was quite willing to talk about himself, especially to Mr. Williams, as they sat and smoked together in the evening, and he said a good deal about his father, who had owned two ships at Nantucket, and who, according to his son, was one of the most influential citizens of the place.

Mr. Williams had heard of the Burkes of Nantucket, and he did not think any the less of the one who was now his guest, because his father's ships had come to grief during his boyhood, and he had been obliged to give up a career on sh.o.r.e, which he would have liked, and go to sea, which he did not like. A brave spirit in poverty coupled with a liberal disposition in opulence was enough to place Mr. Burke on a very high plane in the opinions of the people of Plainton.

Half a mile outside the town, upon a commanding eminence, there was a handsome house which belonged to a family named Buskirk. These people were really not of Plainton, although their post-office and railroad station were there. They were rich city people who came to this country place for the summer and autumn, and who had nothing to do with the town folks, except in a limited degree to deal with some of them.

This family lived in great style, and their coachman and footman in knee breeches, their handsome horses with docked tails, the beautiful grounds about their house, a feebly shooting fountain on the front lawn, were a source of anxious disquietude in the mind of Mrs. Cliff. They were like the skeletons which were brought in at the feasts of the ancients.

"If I should ever be obliged to live like the Buskirks on the hill," the good lady would say to herself, "I would wish myself back to what I used to be, asking only that my debts be paid."

Even the Buskirks took notice of Mr. Burke. In him they thought it possible they might have a neighbor. If he should buy a place and build a fine house somewhere in their vicinity, which they thought the only vicinity in which any one should build a fine house, it might be a very good thing, and would certainly not depreciate the value of their property. A wealthy bachelor might indeed be a more desirable neighbor than a large family.

The Buskirks had been called upon when they came to Plainton a few years before by several families. Of course, the clergyman, Mr. Perley, and his wife, paid them a visit, and the two Misses Thorped.y.k.e hired a carriage and drove to the house, and, although they did not see the family, they left their cards.

After some time these and other calls were returned, but in the most ceremonious manner, and there ended the social intercourse between the fine house on the hill and the town.

As the Buskirks drove to Harrington to church, they did not care about the Perleys, and although they seemed somewhat inclined to cultivate the Thorped.y.k.es, who were known to be of such an excellent old family, the Thorped.y.k.es did not reciprocate the feeling, and, having declined an invitation to tea, received no more.

But now Mr. Buskirk, who had come up on Sat.u.r.day to spend Sunday with his family, actually called on Mr. Burke at the hotel. The wealthy sailor was not at home, and the city gentleman left his card.

When Mr. Burke showed this card to Mrs. Cliff, her face clouded. "Are you going to return the visit?" said she.

"Oh yes!" answered Burke. "Some of these days I will drive up and look in on them. I expect they have got a fancy parlor, and I would like to sit in it a while and think of the days when I used to swab the deck.

There's nothin' more elevatin', to my mind, than just that sort of thing. I do it sometime when I am eatin' my meals at the hotel, and the better I can bring to mind the bad coffee and hard tack, the better I like what's set before me."

Mrs. Cliff sighed. She wished Mr. Buskirk had kept away from the hotel.

As soon as Mrs. Cliff had consented to the erection of the new dining-room on the corner lot,--and she did not hesitate after Mr. Burke had explained to her how easy it would be to do the whole thing almost without her knowing anything about it, if she did not want to bother herself in the matter,--the enterprise was begun.

Burke, who was of an active mind, and who delighted in managing and directing, undertook to arrange everything. There was no agreement between Mrs. Cliff and himself that he should do this, but it pleased him so much to do it, and it pleased her so much to have him do it, that it was done as a thing which might be expected to happen naturally.

Sometimes she said he was giving her too much of his time, but he scorned such an idea. He had nothing to do, for he did not believe that he should buy a place for himself until spring, because he wanted to pick out a spot to live in when the leaves were coming out instead of when they were dropping off, and the best fun he knew of would be to have command of a big crew, and to keep them at work building Mrs.

Cliff's dining-room.

"I should be glad to have you attend to the contracts," said Mrs. Cliff, "and all I ask is, that while you don't waste anything,--for I think it is a sin to waste money no matter how much you may have,--that you will help me as much as you can to make me feel that I really am making use of my income."

Burke agreed to do all this, always under her advice, of course, and very soon he had his crew, and they were hard at work. He sent to Harrington and employed an architect to make plans, and as soon as the general basis of these was agreed upon, the building was put in charge of a contractor, who, under Mr. Burke, began to collect material and workmen from all available quarters.

"We've got to work sharp, for the new building must be moored alongside Mrs. Cliff's house before the first snowstorm."

A lawyer of Plainton undertook the purchase of the land and, as the payments were to be made in cash, and as there was no chaffering about prices, this business was soon concluded.

As to the Barnard family, Mr. Burke himself undertook negotiations with them. When he had told them of the handsome lot on another street, which would be given them in exchange, and how he would gently slide their house to the new location, and put it down on any part of the lot which they might choose, and guaranteed that it should be moved so gently that the clocks would not stop ticking, nor the tea or coffee spill out of their cups, if they chose to take their meals on board during the voyage; and as, furthermore, he promised a handsome sum to recompense them for the necessity of leaving behind their well, which he could not undertake to move, and for any minor inconveniences and losses, their consent to the change of location was soon obtained.

Four days after this Burke started the Barnard house on its travels. As soon as he had made his agreement with the family, he had brought a man down from Harrington, whose business it was to move houses, and had put the job into his hands. He stipulated that at one o'clock P.M. on the day agreed upon the house was to begin to move, and he arranged with the mason to whom he had given the contract for preparing the cellar on the new lot, that he should begin operations at the same hour.

He then offered a reward of two hundred dollars to be given to the mover if he got his house to its destination before the cellar was done, or to the mason if he finished the cellar before the house arrived.

The Barnards had an early dinner, which was cooked on a kerosene stove, their chimney having been taken down, but they had not finished washing the dishes when their house began to move.

Mrs. Cliff and w.i.l.l.y ran to bid them good-bye, and all the Barnards, old and young, leaned out of a back window and shook hands.

Mr. Burke had arranged a sort of gang-plank with a railing if any of them wanted to go on sh.o.r.e--that is, step on terra firma--during the voyage. But Samuel Rolands, the mover, heedful of his special prize, urged upon them not to get out any oftener than could be helped, because when they wished to use the gang-plank he would be obliged to stop.

There were two boys in the family who were able to jump off and on whenever they pleased, but boys are boys, and very different from other people.

Houses had been moved in Plainton before, but never had any inhabitants of the place beheld a building glide along upon its timber course with, speaking comparatively, the rapidity of this travelling home.

Most of the citizens of the place who had leisure, came at some time that afternoon to look at the moving house, and many of them walked by its side, talking to the Barnards, who, as the sun was warm, stood at an open window, very much excited by the spirit of adventure, and quite willing to converse.

Over and over they a.s.sured their neighbors that they would never know they were moving if they did not see the trees and things slowly pa.s.sing by them.

As they crossed the street and pa.s.sed between two houses on the opposite side, the inhabitants of these gathered at their windows, and the conversation was very lively with the Barnards, as the house of the latter pa.s.sed slowly by.

All night that house moved on, and the young people of the village accompanied it until eleven o'clock, when the Barnards went to bed.

Mr. Burke divided his time between watching the moving house, at which all the men who could be employed in any way, and all the horses which could be conveniently attached to the windla.s.ses, were working in watches of four hours each, in order to keep them fresh and vigorous,--and the lot where the new cellar was being constructed, where the masons continued their labors at night by the light of lanterns and a blazing bonfire fed with resinous pine.

The excitement caused by these two scenes of activity was such that it is probable that few of the people of the town went to bed sooner than the Barnard family.

Early the next morning the two Barnard boys looked out of the window of their bedroom and saw beneath them the Hastings' barnyard, with the Hastings boy milking. They were so excited by this vision that they threw their shoes and stockings out at him, having no other missiles convenient, and for nearly half an hour he followed that house, trying to toss the articles back through the open window, while the cow stood waiting for the milking to be finished.

On the evening of the third day after its departure from its original position, the Barnard house arrived on the new lot, and, to the disgust of Samuel Rolands, he found the cellar entirely finished and ready for him to place the house upon it. But Mr. Burke, who had been quite sure that this would be the result of the compet.i.tion, comforted him by telling him that as he had done his best, he too should have a prize equal to that given to the mason. This had been suggested by Mrs. Cliff, because, she said, that as they were both hard-working men with families, and although the house-mover was not a citizen of Plainton, he had once lived there, she was very glad of this opportunity of helping them along.

As soon as this important undertaking had been finished, Mr. Burke was able to give his sole attention to the new dining-room on the corner lot. He and the architect had worked hard upon the plans, and when they were finished they had been shown to Mrs. Cliff. She understood them in a general way, and was very glad to see that such ample provisions had been made in regard to closets, though she was not able to perceive with her mind's eye the exact dimensions of a room nineteen by twenty-seven, nor to appreciate the difference between a ceiling twelve feet high, and another which was nine.

However, having told Mr. Burke and the architect what she wanted, and both of them having told her what she ought to have, she determined to leave the whole matter in their hands. This resolution was greatly approved by her sailor friend, for, as the object of the plan of construction was to relieve her of all annoyance consequent upon building operations, the more she left everything to those who delighted in the turmoil of construction, the better it would be for all.

Everything had been done in the plans to prevent interference with the neatness and comfort of Mrs. Cliff's present abode. The door of the new dining-room was so arranged that when it was moved up to the old house, it would exactly fit against a door in the latter which opened from a side hall upon a little porch. This porch being removed, the two doors would fit exactly to each other, and there would be none of the dust and noise consequent upon the cutting away of walls.

So Mrs. Cliff and w.i.l.l.y lived on in peace, comfort, and quiet in their old home, while on the corner lot there was hammering, and banging, and sawing all day. Mr. Burke would have had this work go on by night, but the contractor refused. His men would work extra hours in consideration of extra inducements, but good carpenter work, he declared, could not be done by lantern light.