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Squire Longbow said "he'd run the risk of the fourteen years of age and the fraud, and finally he would of the whole on't. The staterts was well enough, but it warn't to be presumed that a _justice of the peace would_ run agin 'em. Some folks didn't know 'em--he did."
Ike said "there was something another in the statert about wimin's doing things 'without any fear or compulsion of anybody,' and he guessed he'd take Miss Graves into another room, and examine her separately and apart from her intended husband." This was a joke of Turtle's.
The Squire said "that meant _married_ wimin--arter the ceremony was over, that ere would be very legal and proper."
Mrs. Swipes said, "for her part, she thought the oath or-ter be put--it would be an awful thing to see a poor cretur forced into marriage."
Sister Abigail thought so, too.
Aunt Sonora hoped there wouldn't be nothin' did wrong, "so people could take the law on 'em."
Turtle said, "that they needn't any on 'em fret their gizzards--_he_ was responsible for the la' of the case."
Bigelow then rose, and told the parties to jine hands, and while they were jined, he wanted the whole company to sing a psalm.
The psalm was sung.
Bigelow then commenced the wedding process. "Squire Longbow," exclaimed Bigelow--"this is your second wife, and some folks say the third, and I hope you feel the awful position in which you find yourself."
The Squire said "he felt easy and resigned--he'd gone inter it from respect to his woman who was now no more."
"You do promise to take this ere woman, to eat her, and drink her, and keep her in things to wear, so long as you and she lives."
"I do that very thing," responded the Squire.
"And you, on your part," continued Bigelow, turning to Aunt Graves, "promise to behave yourself and obey the Squire in all things."
Aunt Graves said "she would, Providence permitting."
This marriage ceremony, I believe, is nearly word for word.
"Then," said Turtle, "wheel yourselves into line, and let's have a dance;"
and drawing out his fiddle the whole crowd, in five minutes, were tearing down at a most furious rate; and when I departed, at about midnight, the storm was raging still higher, the whiskey and hot water circulated freely, Turtle looked quite abstracted about his eyes, and his footsteps were growing more and more uncertain, Bulliphant's face shone like a full moon, the voices of the females, a little stimulated, were as noisy and confused as those of Babel, and your humble servant--why, he walked home as straight as a gun--of course he did--and was able to distinguish a hay-stack from a meeting-house, anywhere along the road.
CHAPTER XII.
The Group at "The Eagle."--Entree of a Stranger.--His Opinion of the Tavern.--Bulliphant wakes up.--Can't pick Fowls after Dark.--Sad Case of Mother Gantlet and Dr.
Teazle.--Mr. Farindale begins to unbend.--Whistle & Sharp, and their Attorney.--Good Pay.--Legal Conversation.--Going Sniping.--Great Description of the Animal.--The Party start, Farindale holding the Bag.--"Waiting for Snipe."--Farindale's Solitary Return.--His Interview with Whistle & Sharp.--Suing a Puddleford Firm.--Relief Laws.--Farindale gets his Execution.--The Puddleford Bank.--The Appraisers.--Proceeds of the Execution.
Late in the fall of the year, early one evening, Turtle, Longbow, Bates, the "Colonel," Swipes, and Beagle were congregated at the Eagle. Turtle and Bates were engaged at a game of checkers, and each one, fast-anch.o.r.ed at his right hand, had a gla.s.s of whiskey and water, or, as Turtle called it, "a little diluted baldface." Their mouths were pierced with a pipe, in the left hand corner, which hung loosely and rakishly down, besmearing their laps with ashes, and now and then they puffed forth a column of smoke. The "Colonel," Longbow, and the other Puddlefordians were ranged round the fire. The Colonel sat in a rickety chair, his feet hoisted up on the mantel on a line with his nose, and his shoulders. .h.i.tched over the ends of its posts; the Squire was busily looking into the glowing coals, his hands clasped across his breast, unravelling some question of law, and Swipes sat very affectionately on Beagle's lap, his right arm thrown around his neck.
While in this position, aloud call of "Hallo!" "Landlord!" "O-r-s-t-ler!"
was heard without.
"Stir yer stumps, old Boniface--a traveller in distress," exclaimed Ike, to Bulliphant, who was asleep on a wooden box behind the bar, and was snoring louder and louder at each succeeding blast.
"Another two-and-sixpence, old free and easy," added Bates.
"This ere's a licensed tavern, and you must be up and doing, or the la' 'll be inter you," gravely remarked the Squire.
By this time the stranger dashed into the bar-room, his face flushed, and his temper, or his offended dignity, or both, in the ascendant, and exclaimed, ferociously, "Is this a tavern! are you all dead! where's the landlord! the hostler! Got any hay--oats!--anything for a gentleman to eat!--any place to sleep!"--when Bulliphant rubbed open his eyes with the knuckle of his fore-finger, gave a sleepy nod, and stumbled towards the door, to provide for his furious guest and his horse.
The stranger walked into the bar-room, unwound two or three gaudy shawls from his neck, took off an overcoat, a surtout-coat, shed a pair of India-rubber travelling-boots, run both of his hands deep into his breeches-pockets, took half a dozen pompous strides across the floor, looking down all the while in abstracted mood at his feet, paraded before a gla.s.s, twisted one of the locks of his hair around his fore-finger, and finally brought up with his back to the fire, where he stood, his hands holding apart the skirts of his coat, and his attention fixed upon something on the ceiling.
Turtle measured him with his eyes several times from head to foot; the "Colonel" hitched out of his way and begged his pardon, when, in fact, he was not at all _in_ his way; the Squire was quite overcome at the amount of opposing dignity brought so directly in contact with him; Bates gravely whistled Yankee Doodle, gazing out of the window, and winked over his shoulder at Beagle and Swipes, who winked back again.
Bulliphant returned wide awake. "Any turkeys or chickens?" inquired the stranger.
"All gone to roost," answered Bulliphant, with a grave kind of brevity.
"Take a broiled chicken," said the stranger, giving a heavy hawk, with his hand upon his breast, and spitting half across the floor.
"Have to take it feathers and all, then," said Bulliphant--"wimin folks are superst.i.tious--don't b'lieve it's right to pick fowls in the night--'twas jest so with my wife's grandmother--she had the same complaint."
The stranger looked very hard at Bulliphant, and spit again, somewhat spitefully.
"Can give you mush, souse, slap-jacks, briled pork," continued Bulliphant, looking quizzically towards Turtle.
The stranger said, "he thought he'd stopped at a _tavern_--but he'd a great deal better turned himself into the woods, and browsed for supper"--and heaving a long sigh, sat down, and crossed his legs in a settled mood of desperation.
Bulliphant said "there warn't no cause for alarm--he'd seen sicker men than he die--and get well, too."
The stranger grunted and shifted his legs.
There was a long silence. All the Puddlefordians, except Ike and Bates, who were absorbed in their game, were looking soberly and steadily into the burning logs.
"Turtle," exclaimed Swipes, at last, breaking the solitude--"is that man goin' to die?"
"Can't tell," replied Turtle; "his life's on a pize--may turn one way, may turn t'other," and he took out his pipe, and blew a long whiff.
"Sleep well, last night?"
"Groan'd some 'bout midnight."
Swipes looked very sad, and the stranger's eyes pa.s.sed from face to face with anxious looks.
"Ain't goin' to bleed to death?"
"Not zactly that, but mortification's goin' to set in, and he cannot stand it long, when that takes him."
"Dear me!" exclaimed the Colonel.
"Very strange case!" added the Squire.