Susan Clegg and Her Friend Mrs. Lathrop Part 9

'Muzzle not the ox 't treadeth out the corn,' 'n' I felt like askin'

him 'f he didn't know a cow when he see one. She looked cross enough for any Bible talk, though, 'n' Rachel Rebecca was awful scared 'n'

they all begin to cry. I took 'em into my kitchen 'n' give 'em a cooky apiece, 'n' that smoothed 'em out. The minister was real pleased; he quoted 'Even as ye did it unto the least o' these, ye did it unto me,'

so I took the hint 'n' give him a cooky too. They was goin' up to Mrs.

Brown's to tea. I must say she 's pretty good to have six o' 'em all to once."

Mrs. Lathrop twisted wearily.

"C'n you feel your leg?" her friend asked anxiously.

"Yes, I c'n feel--"

"Mrs. Macy was up this afternoon. She says she 's more 'n' more worried over you. She says it is n't as she don't wish young Dr. Brown well, 'n' she 's intendin' to call him in sometime herself when she knows jus' what 's the matter with her 'n' jus' what she 'd ought to take for it, but she says 't in your circ.u.mstances there ain't a mite o' doubt but what you 'd ought to have old Dr. Carter 's fast 's he could be raked over here from Meadville. She says legs is scarce birds, 'n' you can't go lavishin' one on every young man 's is anxious to build up a practice on you. She says how do you know 's it 's a clean break 's you've got there anyhow? Maybe it 's a fracture. A fracture 's when the bone splinters all to pieces 'n' fans out every way inside o' your leg. O' course young Dr. Brown ain't got beyond clean breaks yet, 'n' if you're splintered in place o' bein' clean you don't want him to learn the difference at your cost. If you lose your leg, Mrs. Lathrop, it certainly will be a awful thing for you. A woman can't ever say 's she was a brakeman or in the war, 'n' them 's the only good excuses 's can be give. Then, too, if you have a wooden leg 'n' the wind catches you at it, it'll take you in a way 's 'll make you look more like a scarecrow 'n a Christian. Mrs. Macy says 't she was speakin' to Mr. Kimball about you, 'n' he was nigh to serious f'r once in his life. She says he says 't they take the hair off o'

horse-hides with plaster 'n' that wooden legs is very hard to get comfortable. I s'pose the long 'n' short of it would be 't I'd have to come over every mornin' 'n' hook it on to you,--'f it was left to Jathrop he'd probably have you half o' the time with your toes pointin' back 'n' your heel in front. C'n you feel it now?"

"Yes; I--"

"Then it's still there, but, Lord! how that cow does kick 'n' pull 'n'

moo! Why don't Jathrop do suthin' to her? She'd ought to be tended to.

When you come right square down to it, she ain't no more to blame f'r kickin' you 'n' he is f'r lookin' like a frog. They was each made so.

But even then she'd ought to be milked jus' the same, 'n' Jathrop 'd ought to be settin' at it."

"I don't want--"

"It's got to be him or me or the butcher, 'n' I must say I don't see no good 'n' sufficient reason why it should be me. I didn't have Jathrop, nor yet the cow, 'n' I don't see why I sh'd lay myself open to bein' snapped off any where, jus' because your son 's half a fool--the head half."

Mrs. Lathrop groaned.

"Now there ain't no use in _that_" said Susan firmly; "lots o' things might be worse 'n they are. She might 'a' broken both your legs, or she may break both his when he tries to milk her to-night. You must look on the bright side, Mrs. Lathrop, 'n' not twist aroun' like you'd been in bed four weeks 'n' only had two more ahead o' you. The whole six is ahead now, 'n' instid o' wrigglin' 'n' sighin', you'd ought to think how good it is as I'm here to take care o' you. I must say 't, to my order o' thinkin', your leg is goin' to be pretty nigh 's hard on me 's on you. 'F I can't trust Jathrop to so much 's carry a tray after I've been to all the bother o' cookin' it, it stands to reason 's I must be kitin' with 'em all day long. I'm very friendly with you, Mrs. Lathrop, 'n' whether single or two-legged I'd never but wish you well; still, I _am_ a rich woman, 'n' bein' a rich woman, it does seem kind o' hard for me to have to slave back 'n' forth over the fence for six weeks; but, such bein' the case, it strikes me 't, of us two, you certainly ain't the one 's 'd ought to be doin' the groanin'."

Mrs. Lathrop appeared contrite and dumb.

"I guess I'll go 'n' get supper now," said her visitor, rising; "when it's got I'll bring you over some. I ain't goin' to trust Jathrop with nothin' again, I know. To think o' his eatin' your dinner! I must say, Mrs. Lathrop, 't if you was cut out to be a mother, it certainly seems a pity 't you never got beyond Jathrop, for no one 's ever see him could believe it of you. However, I don't suppose 's any one in their senses could blame you f'r stoppin' right off short when you see what you 'd gone 'n' done the first time."

Mrs. Lathrop made no attempt to reply. Miss Clegg left the room, and returned not until she came with the supper.

"I did n't see Jathrop nowhere," she announced as she entered, "but the cow 's goin' on jus' awful."

"Jathrop 's gone for the--"

"Well, I _am_ glad. The butcher 's the only one 's 'd ought to go near her. I persume I c'd 'a' milked her, 'n' 'f she 'd been my cow I w'd 'a' milked her, but bein' 's she wa'n't mine I did n't see no good 'n'

sufficient reason why I sh'd so much 's take a interest in her. I will own 't I did sorter ache to see her kick Jathrop into kingdom come, but the chances are 't he'd 'a' come out alive, 'n' so it would n't 'a' paid in the end. I 'll be glad to hear her stop mooin', though. I was sick o' the noise afore she begun, 'n' she 's kep' right on ever since."

Mrs. Lathrop ate a little and drank a little, looking blandly non-committal as she did so. Miss Clegg rocked vigorously.

"I can't get that plaster out o' my head," she continued presently. "I wonder if it won't give you rheumatism anyhow. Deacon White got rheumatism from movin' into a house where the plaster was damp, 'n' it stands to reason it'd be worse yet if it's tied right tight to you. I must say 't I agree with Mrs. Macy; I think you'd ought to have old Dr. Carter. O' course it'll cost suthin' to have him over from Meadville, but it'll cost you a sight more to have a wooden leg up from the city. There ain't no sense in tryin' to save money over a kick, Mrs. Lathrop, 'n' what's the good o' your economizin' all these years 'f you can't indulge yourself a little when you want to? That's what Mr. Sh.o.r.es said to me--jus' them very self-same words--when he wanted to sell me that fancy green 'n' yellow parasol 's he had up f'r Easter. I didn't want no parasol, though; it had a pointed-nose dog f'r a handle, 'n' I didn't fancy myself goin' to church hangin' on to a dog's nose, even 'f it was silver-plated. I ain't no great admirer o' green 'n' yellow, neither, 'n' so I told him flat 'n' plain 't I wa'n't through my economizin' years yet. He sold the parasol to Mrs.

Jilkins, 'n' she let it down on her thumb 'n' come nigh to breakin'

her thumb. She says she won't carry no parasol 's she can't shut down without riskin' her thumb 'n' she 's goin' to give it to her niece over to Meadville. She says her niece is awful womans-rightsy, 'n' can swing dumb-bells 'n' look over backward 't her own heels, 'n' that parasol 'll be nothin' but child's play to her. I ain't no sympathy with such views myself--I never was one as believed overmuch in womans' rights. My idea is to let the men have the rights, 'n' then they're satisfied to let you do 's you please. 'S far 's my observa--Lord have mercy on us!"

The cause of the abrupt termination of Miss Clegg's speech was a sudden crashing back of the house, followed by a rush and a swish at the side. The friendly visitor made one jump for the window, took one look out, and was off and away. The door slammed before Mrs. Lathrop got her mouth open to ask what was the matter. She called, but no answer came. Then she waited, and waited some more, and finally grew weary in her waiting and fell asleep.

She slept long and dreamlessly. It was well after seven when the noise of footsteps awakened her.

It was Susan. Having left the tray behind in her mad flight of the night before, she had come over with the teapot in one hand and a plate of toast in the other. But it was not the breakfast which attracted Mrs. Lathrop's attention, it was the expression of her neighbor's face. Tidings of vast importance were deeply imprinted there, and when Miss Clegg set the teapot down and said, "Well, Mrs.

Lathrop!" there was that within the tone of her voice which seemed to cause the very air to quiver in antic.i.p.ation.

"Is anything the--"

"Matter?" Susan put down the toast and drew herself up to her full height as she spoke. "Yes, Mrs. Lathrop, a good deal is the matter.

You ain't seen Jathrop, have you?"

"No; where--"

"He's gone!"

"Gone?"

"Gone. Mr. Weskin give him to understand as he'd better go somewhere 'n' he got on a train 'n' did it. If he hadn't, he might 'a' been lynched."

"Lynched!" screamed the mother, sitting suddenly up. A direful cracking resounded under the bed-clothes as she did so, but in the excitement of the moment its possible evil portent went unnoticed.

"Lynched," repeated Susan; "that's what I said, 'n' bein' 's I was brought up to speak the truth 'n' fear no man, you c'n depend upon its bein' so. But you must eat your breakfast, Mrs. Lathrop,--you mustn't go without eatin' or you'll lose your strength 'n' then blood poison 'll set in. 'N' that reminds me 't Mr. Weskin asked me yesterday if you'd made your will. Have you?"

"No; but I want to know about--"

"He says you'd ought to right off. He says there 's no tellin' where anythin' 'll end 'n' it 's wise to be prepared for the worst. He said he knowed a man as walked on a tack 'n' jus' called it a tack, 'n'

first they had to cut off the tack 'n' then the toe 'n' then the foot, 'n' they kept on slicin' him higher 'n' higher till he died without no will a _tall_. I said you wasn't no tack but a cow, but he said it was all one, 'n' I guess it is 's far 's the lawyers go. I expeck it'd be only a poor lawyer 's couldn't argue a tack into a cow--'n' out of her again, too, f'r that matter--'n' Mr. Weskin ain't no poor--"

"But about Ja--"

"--Lawyer. He's 's fine 's they make. O' course a good deal o' the time no one knows what he means, but that ain't nothin' ag'in' him, f'r I think with a lawyer you ginerally don't. It's a part o' their business not to let no one know what they mean, f'r 'f law was simple no one 'd ever get fooled."

'N' Jath--"

"He's gone. You c'n make your mind easy about him, f'r he got away all safe. Hiram Mullins chased him clear to the station 'n' nigh to catched him, but there was a train jus' movin' out, 'n' Jathrop shinned up the little fire-escape on the back o' the calaboose 'n' was off. 'N' now 't he is gone, Mrs. Lathrop, I'm goin' to right out plain 'n' tell you to your face 's it's a good thing f'r you 's he _is_ gone, 'n' you want to thank Heaven 's sent him to you 't that train was so handy to take him away ag'in."

"But what--" asked Mrs. Lathrop feebly.

"It was the cow," said Susan. "Don't you remember how I run last night? I hear a noise, 'n' my first thought was 's it was Jathrop or mebbe the butcher, but I got to the window jus' in time to see a tail make the turn o' the gate, 'n' the seein' the tail showed right off 's it warn't Jathrop nor yet the butcher. Seems 't Jathrop, not seein' no ring to tie her to, tied her to a spoke in the hay-rack 'n' in her mooin' she broke it. Seems't then she squose out into the chicken-coop 'n' then busted right through the wire nettin' 'n' set off. She run like wild fire, they say. She headed right f'r town 'n' down the main street. She come into the square lickety-split, 'n' the town committee was in the middle of it examinin' the band-stand where Judge Fitch says 't it shakes when he has to stamp 'n' pound in his speeches. She come on the committee so sudden 't they did n't even know what it was.

She knocked Deacon White over on his back, 'n' threw Mr. Sh.o.r.es so hard ag'in' the waterin'-trough 't all his suspender tins come out before 'n' behind. Gran'ma Mullins was comin' across with six new teacups done up in each hand. Ed was comin' along after her with the saucers, but she'd told Mr. Kimball right out to his face as she would n't trust Ed with nothin' as had handles 'n' so she'd carry them cups home herself. The cow hit her cornering, 'n' them cups 'n' her false teeth went all over the square. Some o' 'em hit Deacon White in the face where he lay gaspin', but the cow never stopped. She jus' flew.

Mr. Fisher was hurryin' along to join the rest o' the committee 't the bandstand, 'n' he met her next. She lowered her head 'n' jus' gouged Mr. Fisher's three-quarters around him 'n' tore right on. She took the crick road, 'n' Polly Allen 'n' Sam Duruy was out walkin' 'n' see her pa.s.s. They say greased lightenin' was donkeys to the way she went. The minister 'n' the six childern was jus' comin' home from Mrs. Brown's, 'n' the five childern at home was all come runnin' to meet them. The cow charged right into the middle o' the bunch, 'n' the minister 'n'

all them eleven childern is laid out f'r one spell.

"Well, 'n' even _then_ she did n't stop. Seemed like ploughin' through the minister's family only give her fresh strength. She kept right straight on down the crick road, 'n' jus' by the ditch she come on Mr.

'n' Mrs. Jilkins. They was comin' up to town to spend the night with the Whites, 'n' they had the green 'n' yellow parasol all done up to send to Mrs. Jilkins' niece along with 'em. The cow was 's unexpected to them as to every one else, 'n' she hit the parasol right square in the middle. It broke, 'n' the wires all bust out 'n' punched Mr.

Jilkins full o' holes afore he had time to point it at his wife. She got her share anyhow, though, f'r that dog's nose handle caught her right aroun' her leg 'n' throwed her head foremost into the ditch.

"'N' the cow did n't stop then! She rushed right along, 'n' on the first bridge was Mrs. Macy. She was standin' wonderin' what was to pay up the road, 'n' then she see it was a cow. Well, Mrs. Lathrop, you know what Mrs. Macy is on cows. I hear her say one day as she 'd rather have a mouse run up her skirts any day 'n a cow. She told me 't she often go 'way round by Cherry Pond sooner 'n be alone with one in the road, 'n' such bein' the case, you can't suppose but what she was mortal scared. Her story is 's she only had time to see its horns 'n'

the wildness of its eyes afore she never _will_ know what did possess her. She never see a cow that near in all her life before, 'n' she says 'f that 's the way they look face to, she ain't surprised 't folks sit a little back when milkin'. It was nigh to on to her, 'n'

you know yourself 't the bridge is narrow 'n' Mrs. Macy ain't. Well, Mrs. Lathrop, you c'n believe me or not jus' 's you please, 'cause it 'll be Mrs. Macy 's you 'll be doubtin' anyhow, but this is what she says happened. The bridge is _here_, you know," Susan laid off the plan on her knee, "'n' the road is _here_. The cow was runnin' like mad along _here_, 'n' Mrs. Macy was white 'n' tremblin' so 't the whole bridge shook under her, right atop of it. She says to her dyin'