The Puddleford Papers Part 12

"Dear me suz, I wanter know," exclaimed Mrs. Brown again.

"And then she's at the head in the gography cla.s.s--she's draw'd a map of the Cannibal Islands--and on one on 'em, Capt'n Cook lies with his head off, crying for marcy--and she says, down onter the squator it don't never snow, nor nothin', and it's hotter than blue-blazes, in the winter--and when it thunders and litenins, it tears everything inter pieces--she's goin' ahead wonderfully, Mrs. Beagle."

"Well, now, that _is satisfying_," said Mrs. Beagle. "It does one so much good to see one's children get larnin'!"

"That's just what I tell'd Mr. Brown when Jim was first born," said Aunt Sonora. "I tell'd him the boy had genus, for there never was one of our family that didn't. 'But you've got-ter give him schooling,' said I, 'to bring it out.' And so he did--and you orter to have see'd how he run'd to books and newspapers. When he was fifteen, he tell'd the old man, as he called his father, he orter to go to district-school--(he was a wonderful boy; know'd everything, then)--that he was way ahind the age. Then he went off a roamin', a seekin' his fortin'--and when he com'd back, n.o.body would know'd him--he was _so_ improved--he fling'd his legs onter to the stove, and smoked and chewed, and talk'd about furrin parts--and didn't take any notice of the old man--said how the old man didn't know nothin'--(warn't he genus, Squire Longbow?)--he wouldn't work any, because he said genuses never work'd--that they wouldn't be genuses if they did--he made the old man give him a fast horse, and a p'inter dog, and a gun, all kivered with silver plates, and then he rid, and hunted, and courted--(warn't he genus?)--he courted Squire Boson's darter, and Mr. Fogg's two darters, and all the gals in the western settlement, till he finally settled down, as I was tellin' Mr. ---- a while ago, into jest as much of a genus as ever--the dear ma.s.sy on us, what won't larnin' do?"

"'S'prisin' boy," answered the Squire.

The conversation ran on about everything, until Ike had really broken up the clique of Bird & Co., and one would have thought there never had been a social war in Puddleford. There never lived a mortal, I believe, who could hold out against the humor of Ike Turtle. He magnetized all who came within his influence. He was shrewd, keen, far-seeing, full of good sense, and had a stock of fun that was positively inexhaustible. Ike, in reality, never cared about the antipathy of Bird, Beagle & Co.--all their malice and slander had never "ruffled a feather," as he used to say. He was amusing _himself_ in the experiments he had been making to bring the factions together; but he did not in fact care whether they ever came together or not.

About nine o'clock in the evening, and after "supper," as Mrs. Sonora called it, had pa.s.sed off, Ike inquired of me if my fiddle was in the house, as he intended to have Squire Longbow, Aunt Sonora, Mrs. Bird, Swipes, and "all hands," dancing before the company broke up.

The fiddle was produced--rather an asthmatic instrument--that strayed into the country among my lumber, and was somewhat out of order. Ike tinkered it up with his jack-knife, until it finally emitted a few strains of something like music. He then played "Over the Hills," "Fisher's Hornpipe," and several other lively airs, until old Squire Longbow unconsciously began to rap the time with his heels, and Mrs. Bird to grow quite nettlesome.

Ike finally bowed himself up to Mrs. Bird, sawing away all the time on his fiddle--and declared that "nothing on airth would do him so much good as a country dance, and she must consent to walk straight out without wincing."

Mrs. Bird looked pleased and provoked, by turns, but she finally took Ike's arm, and was duly placed on the floor. Squire Longbow and Mrs. Sonora were next hauled out by Ike; Mrs. Swipes and Sile Bates, and so on, until he had united (with the exception of Squire Longbow and partner) the most discordant elements of Puddleford.

The dance opened, Ike himself fiddling, shuffling, and calling off. He and Mrs. Bird went down in the middle, up outside, and crossed over, Ike's feet playing all the while like drum-sticks to the music of "Fisher's Hornpipe,"

which he was sawing off with inconceivable rapidity, while Mrs. Bird followed after him, panting and blowing, without much regard to time or tune.

Squire Longbow and Mrs. Sonora trotted through their parts--Mrs. Sonora having declared, before she took the floor, "that she never was one of them are dancing critters, but she'd try and hobble through the figger the best she could."

By and by the general "wind-up" came, when "all hands" went into it heart and soul. Ike's fiddle, and Ike's voice, and the pattering of feet, were all that was heard. "Right and left!" "Cross over!" "Don't run agin Mrs.

Bird, Squire Longbow!" "A leetle faster, Mrs. Swipes!" "_Pardners_ keep clus arter one another!" "Don't cave!" "Not quite so much cavortin' down thar!" exclaimed Ike, giving expression to his words with his bow, when at last he drew the whole to a close by a long, high squeak, and the company rushed to their seats puffing, and covered with perspiration.

This movement of Ike's was a masterly performance. He had actually danced with Mrs. Bird, one of his bitterest enemies. He had melted the two hostile cliques of Puddleford into one. His flattery and music had accomplished this, and it was productive of lasting good, for the war from this time began to decline in Puddleford, and the hostile cliques were finally dissolved.

Perhaps the reader is disposed to smile at my description of a Puddleford tea-party. Perhaps he thinks the ingenuousness of Aunt Sonora, the free-and-easy humor of Ike Turtle, the peevish jealousy of Mrs. Bird, are the fruit simply of what he terms "western vulgarity." Don't be too fast, my friend. You belong, perhaps, to a society that wears a mask--made up, nevertheless, of "envy, hatred, malice, and all uncharitableness." _Your_ Mrs. Bird is just as jealous, but for another reason, and with this difference, too, that _she_ can smile upon her bitterest enemy, when and where the rules of fashionable life demand it. You've got a Squire Longbow or two with you in all probability--not dressed in homespun, but "broadcloth"--one who has been favored by fortune, and no G.o.d beside--one who hums and haws, and looks as wise and solemn as an owl, and to whom, perhaps, you unconsciously pay homage. We are all alike, dear reader--we look at your society through the telescope of education and refinement--at Puddleford, with the naked eye.

CHAPTER X.

Mrs. Longbow taken sick.--General Interest.--Dr.

Teazle.--His Visit.--"The Rattles."--Scientific Diagnosis.--A Prescription.--Short and Dr. Dobbs.--"Pantod of the Heart."--Dismissal of Teazle.--Installation of Dobbs.--"Scyller and Charabides."--Ike's Views.--The Colonel's.--Bates's.--Mrs. Longbow dies.--Who killed her: conflicting Opinions.--Her Funeral.--Bigelow Van Slyck's Sermon.--Interment.

Not long after this jolly little gathering at my house, I heard that Mrs.

Longbow was sick. Her symptoms were very alarming, and, as she was the wife of Squire Longbow, and as the Squire was _the_ man of Puddleford, her critical condition was a matter of public concern.

"What is the matter with Squire Longbow's woman?" "How did she rest last night?" "Did she roll and tumble much?" "Is her fever brok't onto her?"

were questions frequently put. Now Mrs. Longbow was a very worthy person, and ent.i.tled to all the sympathy she received; but that is not to be the subject of this chapter.

When Mrs. Longbow was first taken ill, Dr. Teazle was called--yes, reader, Dr. Teazle--who had been as good authority in medicine, as Longbow ever was in law. I say had been--"Things were different now."

Teazle was one of the pioneers of Puddleford. He was there when the first log-house was laid up--the first field cleared--the first child born.

Teazle possessed a very little learning, a very great deal of impudence, and a never-ending flow of language. He was opinionated, and tolerated no practice but his own. (What physician ever did?) Teazle never let a doubt enter his mind--he intuitively read a case, as rapidly as though he were reading a printed statement of it. Teazle was about the size of Longbow, but _he_ had two eyes.

"How long have you been attackted?" inquired Teazle, approaching the bedside of Mrs. Longbow, and placing his fingers over the lady's pulse.

Mrs. Longbow said "it was some time during the night."

"Run out your tongue," continued Teazle.

Mrs. Longbow obeyed.

"Very bad tongue--all full'er stuff--you ain't well, Mrs. Longbow; there's a kind of collapse of the whole system, and a sort of debility going on, everywhere all over you."

Squire Longbow, who sat by, anxiously inquired what the disease was.

Teazle said it might be a sour stomach, or it might be fever, or it might be rheumatiz, or it might be the liver, or it might be that something else was out of order--or it might be the _rattles_.

"Dear me!" exclaimed the Squire, "the _rattles_--what is that?"

"The rattles," answered Teazle, "the rattles is a disease treated of in the books--Folks catch cold; the nose stops up; the throat gets sore, and there is a kind of rattling going on when they breathe, whether we can hear it or not--and that's the rattles."

Mrs. Longbow said "she hadn't got any rattles as she know'd on."

Teazle said he would make up a prescription that would make a sure business of it, as he always did when he was in doubt. "He would prepare a compound of the particular medicines used for the particular diseases he had mentioned, and fire at random, and some of the shot would hit, he knew."

"Gracious! doctor!" exclaimed Longbow, "what comes of the rest on 'em?"

"All pa.s.ses off--all pa.s.ses off," answered Teazle glibly, with a flourish of the hand, "through the pores of the skin--" continued Teazle; "and you must also take four quarts-er water, two pounds-er salt, a gill-er mola.s.ses, a little 'c.u.mfrey root, some catnip blows (but mind don't get in any of the leaves; that'll kill her), stir it all up together, and soak her feet just ten minutes; then get five cents worth-er sa.s.syfarilla, three cents worth-er some kind of physic, pour in some caster-ile, and I'll put in some intergrediences and stuffs, and will give it inwardly every two hours; and in the morning I will 'quire agin into the condition of the patient."

This, reader, was the result of Teazle's call. Mrs. Longbow was really suffering under an attack of bilious fever.

In a few days there was an uproar among the physicians of Puddleford. Dr.

Short and Dr. Dobbs had united their influence and tongues together, and Teazle was denounced as a quack and a fool. Short and Dobbs never united for any other purpose but the abuse of Teazle. Sometimes Short and Teazle abused Dobbs, and sometimes Dobbs and Teazle abused Short. Short declared that "Mrs. Longbow had nothing but a kind of in'ard strictur', and a little salts would clear it right out."

Dobbs said it "was either that or the _pantod_ of the heart, and that Teazle's medicine would lay out the poor soul as cold as a wedge."

I endeavored to ascertain by Dobbs what he wished us to understand by "pantod of the heart."

Dobbs said it was "unpossible for him to explain it without the books--it was something that laid hold of the vessels about the heart, and throw'd everything into a flutter."

The war went on--Squire Longbow's friends finally joined the force of opposition to Teazle--and in two or three days Teazle was ejected very unceremoniously from the Squire's house, and Dobbs took his place.

The first thing Dobbs did, when he was fairly installed, was to gather up, and pitch headlong into the fire, all of Teazle's remaining medicines. He wondered whether Teazle "really _intended_ to kill Mrs. Longbow! Perhaps he was only a fool!" The whole system of practice was now changed. A new administration had come into power, and with it new measures. Dobbs "didn't know but he might raise Mrs. Longbow, but he couldn't hold himself responsible--Teazle had nearly finished her--but he would try."

Dobbs immediately introduced a seton into the side of his patient, "to get up a greater fluttering somewhere else, and get away the flutter at the heart, and when _that_ went, the fever would go away with it," _he_ said.

Dobbs moved around Puddleford for a day or so, with great pomp of manner.

He had unseated Teazle, and now occupied his place. But what was his surprise to find Short and Teazle united, and out upon him, in full cry!

Short had become chagrined because Dobbs had been called to fill the place of Teazle, instead of himself.

The war was renewed with increased fury. Dobbs's seton failed to produce the desired effect, and he, therefore, resorted to blistering and calomel.