The Morning Glory Club Part 15

The doctor was a jolly, generous soul who did twice as much work as he was paid for, and was loved and hated after the manner of all general pract.i.tioners of medicine. There were people in Manville who declared that Doctor Jones could work miracles, while others said that he was a butcher and a murderer; but men who have the courage to fight disease and death are not often disturbed or injured by the wagging of mischievous tongues.

"Well," said the doctor, as he sat down, "who is catching it to-night?"

"The woman's club," Sam promptly replied.

"The town is more stirred up over that club than it ever was about anything before," laughed the doctor.

"Now, seein' we've got the question before us," said Sam, "s'pose you give us your opinion."

"Oh, the club is all right, I guess," replied the doctor.

"There, Sam," said Alick, "I guess you're the only woman-hater in the crowd."

"I ain't no woman-hater," replied Sam, indignantly.

"No," Alick laughed, "but you try to make us think you are."

"No such thing; all I want to know is, what's this woman's club for, and how's it goin' to help Manville?"

"Well," drawled Alick, "it's _for_ the women, and it's goin' to help Manville by showin' _you_ what an ignorant cuss _you_ be."

Sam threw a potato at his tormentor, but Alick dodged, and the missile knocked off Ezra Tweedie's hat.

"No offence, Mr. Tweedie," said Alick, quickly, "strictly unintentional."

"No harm, no harm," replied Ezra, as he got up and put on his hat; "but I guess it is time for me to go if my things are ready, Mr. Stout."

Peter handed Ezra his basket, and then whispered something in his ear.

"Certainly, certainly," said Ezra, "it shall be attended to the first of the week." And then turning to the others wished them, "Good evening, gentlemen," walked quickly to the door, and went out.

"Ain't he the queerest little man you ever see?" observed Sam, when Ezra had gone.

"Queer!" replied Alick, "he ain't any queerer in his way than you are in yours."

"Well, I dunno; he's a little too womanish to suit me," said Sam.

"If you had a streak of it in you perhaps you'd show off better." Just then the door was opened, and Barbara Wallace came in and started toward the group of men, hesitated for a moment, and then stopped. The men took the pipes from their mouths and stared at the woman in dripping garments. She was evidently in great distress and looking for some one, but the tobacco smoke was so thick, and the light so dim, that it was difficult for her to distinguish the faces of the men present. Doctor Jones got up and went toward her.

"Are you looking for some one, Miss Wallace?" he asked.

"Yes, doctor, I wanted you, and I hoped"--her voice trembled--"I hoped to find Mr. Blake here, too." When the undertaker heard his name he joined them.

"Who is it?" asked the doctor, anxiously. He had thought that his patients were in no danger, at least for the night. Tears came to Barbara's eyes.

"Bessie Duncan," she replied.

"Are you sure that she is--" the doctor hesitated.

"Yes, but you'll go, doctor, and you, too, won't you, Mr. Blake?"

Barbara pleaded. The expression on the undertaker's face was not encouraging. "I know about the others," she continued, "but they have had such a hard time, please go--for me, Mr. Blake. I'll--I--you can come to me for the money."

"I'll go," said Mr. Blake; "never mind about the money."

"Come," was all that Barbara said as she started for the door followed by the two men. The three went out into the rain and the darkness of the night on their cheerless errand.

The talkers at the store were silent for a long time after that. They had heard all that was said, though it was far from Barbara's intention that they should, but she had been so eager to secure the a.s.sistance of the doctor and Mr. Blake that she had thought only of them.

"So Miss Wallace wants to pay the bills of that mean, drunken skunk of a Rufe Duncan," said Sam, fiercely.

"That ain't any of your business," retorted Alick. "If she wants to have the little girl buried decent, what's the harm?"

"'Tain't her place," replied Sam, more for the sake of an argument than because he believed it. "What do you say, Peter?"

"I say," Peter began, slowly, "I've heard about angels with wings, but the only kind I've ever seen is just such little women as Miss Wallace is."

Chapter X

A Rehearsal

SCENE I, Act IV., of the "Merchant of Venice" was on for rehearsal and mutilation at the home of Mrs. Tweedie by a cast whose performance a.s.sured a treat for the people of Manville.

Early that morning Mrs. Tweedie, having in mind the domestic friction which had been displayed at the first meeting of the club, and desiring to prevent the possibility of its recurrence, had sent her husband on a long errand, given Dora permission to visit a cousin, and urged Tommy to spend the day in the woods.

When the hour appointed for the rehearsal came, Miss Sawyer--at a previous meeting appointed stage-directress--was bustling about arranging chairs and table in an effort to make Mrs. Tweedie's parlour resemble a court of justice in Venice. When she had completed her work, the room looked as though house-cleaning was in progress. While this was being done, the ladies who had parts in the scene huddled in the front hall, and chatted in subdued tones. Antic.i.p.atory fear was already hovering over them.

"I am ready, ladies," announced Miss Sawyer. The hearts of the amateur actresses beat faster as they entered the parlour and gazed upon the arrangement of the furniture.

"That," Miss Sawyer began to explain as she pointed to a large chair flanked on each side by two smaller ones, "is where the Duke and Magnificoes sit, and these chairs and tables down here and those on either side are to be used by the other characters." If the scene was set and played as arranged by Miss Sawyer it would resemble a minstrel circle with the Duke as interlocutor, and Shylock and Antonio for "bones" and "tambo."

"Where do we come in?" asked Mrs. Jones, timidly.

"When you've got something to say," said Mrs. Stout, before Miss Sawyer had time to reply.

"We will only use one entrance," explained Miss Sawyer, when the laugh that Mrs. Stout caused had subsided. "It will be much easier to remember, and accordingly will prevent confusion. And that," she said, waving her hand toward one side of the room, "is where the audience is supposed to be. Now if the cast will please step back into the hall we will begin."

The "cast" solemnly filed from the room, and Miss Sawyer, book in hand, took up a position in the centre of the stage.

"'Enter the Duke, the Magnificoes, Antonio, Ba.s.sanio, Gratiano, Salerio, and others,'" she read.

"Who's goin' to be the 'others'?" called Mrs. Stout. Miss Sawyer made no reply, and the rest did not laugh because each of them, excepting Mrs.

Tweedie and Mrs. Stout, when the name of the character she was to play was read, had a nervous chill. Miss Sawyer waited patiently for some one to enter, but no one stirred.

"Who goes in first?" asked Mrs. Blake.