Randy and Her Friends Part 21

"All right, I'll be there," was the answer, but in an aside he remarked apparently to the horses,

"'F I git my courage up, I'll tell her 'baout Sabriny naow and be done with it;" but his bravery was not put to the test. Before he could reach the bars where his wife stood waiting, she cried out vehemently, "Jabez Brimblecom, what do ye think? Mis' Hodgkins used ter know yer cousin Sabriny when they both wuz girls, an' she says she's jest got a letter a sayin' that Sabriny's comin' here ter make er long visit. She's goin' ter spend two weeks with Mis' Hodgkins, an' all the rest er the summer with us. Jabez, I'd rather heerd of er cyclone a hittin' us, fer ye well know that there'll be no peace 'til she packs an' starts fer home."

"I know it, I know it," Jabez answered, with feeling.

"I got er letter in my pocket, an' I been hatin' ter show it to ye, but mebbe ye might as well read it and make what ye can out'n it."

Mrs. Brimblecom wiped her gla.s.ses and commenced to read the letter.

"Naow what's the use'n his talkin' baout the 'wonderful mountain air,' an'

the 'sparklin' springs,' an' er sayin' that they'll do such a sight fer Sabriny?

"We know what the air is, an' fer that matter, so does she; she's allus lived here. An' as ter the springs; she never so much as looked at 'em when she was here before, but she spent a lot er time tellin' me how she couldn't sleep on my corded beds. She said she had ter sleep on springs an' I was baout tired a hearin' tell of our short comin's; an' I told her if springs was necessary to her well-bein', she'd no doubt be best off ter hum where she'd been braggin' she had plenty of 'em."

"I didn't blame ye fer gittin' riled," said Jabez, "but I s'pose we'll hev ter welcome her, even if we're driven ter speed her departur;" and they both laughed good-naturedly, and mentally decided to make the best of the self-invited guest.

"Wal, she ain't here yit," said Mrs. Brimblecom, "and the fust two weeks she spends with Mis' Hodgkins, an' p'raps by the time she arrives here, I'll be cooled daown 'nough ter be kind er perlite, though I shan't say, 'I'm glad ter see ye Sabriny,' fer that'd be a lie."

"_I_ shall say, 'I hope I see ye well, Sabriny,' fer ma.s.sy knows I wouldn't want her ter be sick fer ye ter wait on," remarked Jabez, with a twinkle in his eye.

"Wal," he continued, "I must git this piece er plaoughin' done. I can't set daown an' luxooriate an' wait 'til we see Sabriny acomin'."

With a loud "G'lang there," he aroused his placid horses, and across the fields they sped, and Mrs. Brimblecom, with the letter in her hand, hastened back to the house where, after placing the large envelope under the cushion of her rocking chair, she busied herself with household tasks.

Later, when she felt that she had earned a few leisure moments, she drew the letter from its hiding-place and sat down to study it.

"'F I hadn't hid ye under the cushion, like as not when I wanted ter read ye, ye'd be lost," she remarked.

A few moments she read in silence, then her disgust moved her to speak.

"Sabriny feels better in a 'higher alt.i.tude,'--well, why doesn't she git one, whatever 'tis, an' git inter it an' stay there, 'stead a pesterin' me with her visits." Mrs. Brimblecom perused a few more lines, when again she spoke.

"She seems ter 'have little energy,'--wal, I don't want ter be mean, but I can't help a hopin' that she won't gain any. Sabriny without energy would be er sight that'd cheer me. Her tremenjous vim nearly wore me aout last season. Ef she'd jest manage ter leave her energy ter hum, I do'no's I'd mind her comin'."

While good Mrs. Brimblecom was studying the letter, Mrs. Hodgkins had sallied forth to tell the great news, that the visitor was expected, and as she pa.s.sed the village store, old Mr. Simpkins, in the doorway, was taking leave of Silas Barnes.

"Yes, sir, he's a great feller, he is. There ain't another as 'riginal as he is on the globe, I bet ye. He's done a lot er bright things time an'

time 'n again, but this time beats the other times all holler."

"What's he done naow?" asked Barnes.

"Hey?" remarked Mr. Simpkins, with his hand at his ear.

"I say, what's he done _naow_?" roared Barnes.

"Oh, I ain't tellin' yit. Even his brother Joel don't know, an' won't know this week, but next week the taown will be 'baout wild with the news er what Timotheus has done. Ye'll be 'bliged ter wait 'til then," said Mr.

Simpkins.

"I guess I'll be able to stand it," remarked Silas Barnes in an undertone.

"Hey? Did ye say ye'd understand it? Wal, I ain't sure whether ye will er not. It's most too much fer _me_," Mr. Simpkins replied, as he made his way cautiously down the rickety steps.

"Fer goodness sakes, what's Timotheus been a doin' naow, I wonder,"

muttered Mrs. Hodgkins. "I shan't ask, an' be told ter wait, as Silas Barnes was.

"I'd like ter know one thing," she continued, "an' that is whether the boy is 'specially bright as his _father_ thinks, or whether he's a little lackin' as _I_ think, an' I do'no who's ter decide."

Up the road she trudged, and as she turned the corner, a most surprising sight caused her to stop and e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.e. "Land er the livin'! What ails him naow?"

Timotheus Simpkins, unaware that he was observed, was executing a most fantastic jig in the middle of the road.

"I've did it naow, I bet ye 'n even Joel 'll have ter admit I'm a sight bigger'n anybody 'n taown. Good-bye ter farmin' and hooray fer literatoor, I say."

"Wal, be ye losin' yer senses, er clean gone crazy?" asked Mrs. Hodgkins in disgust.

Timotheus paused in his wild pirouette, and gave Mrs. Hodgkins a withering glance.

"It ain't wuth while ter explain Mis' Hodgkins, bein's I don't feel ye'd be able ter' understand the magnitood er what I've done."

"_Dew tell!_" remarked Mrs. Hodgkins with fine contempt, "I hope the taown is still big 'nough ter hold ye, _Mr._ Simpkins."

Her irony was wasted, however.

"I'm glad ye reelize the time's come ter 'dress me as 'Mr.,'" remarked Timotheus, and Mrs. Hodgkins vouchsafed no answer, but hurried along the road, "afeared ter speak," as she afterward said, "lest I'd say a deal more'n I orter."

In the long drawing-room Randy and Helen Dayton were chatting merrily with Jotham and Professor Marden when Aunt Marcia joined them, expressing pleasure in being at home to share the call.

In two weeks the private school would close, when Randy would say "good-bye" to her city home and the two dear friends who had entertained her, to the schoolmates of whom she had become so fond, and then she would be speeding over the rails every mile of which would take her nearer home, the dear country home. As Jotham was to leave the city at the same time, he asked the pleasure of accompanying Randy upon the journey, and his offer was gladly accepted.

"And have you heard the latest news from home, Randy?" asked Jotham.

Without awaiting a reply he continued,

"Timotheus Simpkins has 'blossomed aout,' as his father expresses it and a specimen of his 'literatoor' is printed in the county paper. Father sent me a marked copy, and if you like I will read the article."

"I should indeed like to hear it," said Aunt Marcia; "from what Randy says of him I think Timotheus must be an unique character."

"He is truly an odd specimen," said Helen, "I cannot imagine what he would write."

"Read it, do read it," said Randy, and Jotham read the following:

"THORT.

"Thort is the gratest thing that has ever been thort of. I don't know of eny thing bigger than thort that I have thort of, less twas riginalty, an reely _thats_ thort. When I'm busy thinkin'

thorts I aint apt ter have my mind on eny thing else mostly. Most of the books what I have read I think was writ without enough thort. Take the almanic; if _Id_ writ the almanic whare they say, 'bout this time expect rain,' _Id_ a said, bout this time expect weather. Id a put some thort on the matter and Id a knowd that yed natraly have weather er some kind, cause theres _allus_ weather round about these parts, but most folks havent no power ter have thort, an thats why theres so few folks that is great. I mean ter spend my time in thort an' casionally do a little ploughing. I thort so continooal that I had ter leave school in order ter git time ter think in, so havin learnt all there was ter learn, I left school ter the fellers as thort so little that they didn't need much time fer it an now I shall put on paper such thort as most folks can tackle, but some er my thort is so thortful that most any body couldn't understand it, an so no more until Ive thort again.

"Yours thortfully TIMOTHEUS SIMPKINS."