The Wit and Humor of America Volume VI Part 11

"I'm only in love," I said.

"Well, that's the love that moves mountains," he said. "If anybody had told me that I should...." He stopped irresolutely on the word.

"Oh, to think I have to stand for all that rot!" he bleated.

I was too wise to say a word. I simply motioned James to switch the car around and back up. I shooed Jones into the tonneau and turned the k.n.o.b on him. He snuggled back in the cushions, and smiled--yes smiled--with a beautiful, blue-eyed, far-away, indulgent expression that warmed me like spring sunshine. Not that I felt absolutely safe even yet--of course I couldn't--but still--

We ran into Freddy and Eleanor at the lodge gates. I had already telephoned the former to expect us, so as to have everything fall out naturally when the time came. We stopped the car, and descended--Jones and I--and he walked straight off with Eleanor, while I side-stepped with Freddy.

She and I were almost too excited to talk. It was now or never, you know, and there was an awfully solemn look about both their backs that was either rea.s.suring or alarming--we couldn't decide quite which.

Freddy and I simply held our breath and waited.

Finally, after an age, Jones and Eleanor turned, still close in talk, still solemn and enigmatical, and drew toward us very slowly and deliberately. When they had got quite close, and the tension was at the breaking point, Eleanor suddenly made a little rush, and, with a loud sob, threw her arms round Freddy's neck.

Jones fidgeted nervously about, and seemed to quail under my questioning eyes. It was impossible to tell whether things had gone right or not. I waited for him to speak.... I saw words forming themselves hesitatingly on his lips ... he bent toward me quite confidentially....

"Say, old man," he whispered, "is there any place around here where a fellow can buy an engagement ring?"

THE BEAR STORY

THAT ALEX "IST MAKED UP HIS-OWN-SE'F"

BY JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY

W'y, wunst they wuz a Little Boy went out In the woods to shoot a Bear. So, he went out 'Way in the grea'-big woods--he did.--An' he Wuz goin' along--an' goin' along, you know, An' purty soon he heerd somepin' go "_Wooh_!"-- Ist thataway--"_Woo-ooh!_" An' he wuz _skeered_, He wuz. An' so he runned an' clumbed a tree-- A grea'-big tree, he did,--a _sicka-more_ tree.

An' nen he heerd it ag'in: an' he looked round, An' _'t'uz a Bear_!--_a grea'-big sh.o.r.e-nuff Bear!_-- No: 't'uz _two_ Bears, it wuz--two grea'-big Bears-- _One_ of 'em wuz--ist _one's_ a _grea'-big_ Bear.-- But they ist _boff_ went "_Wooh_!"--An' here _they_ come To climb the tree an' git the Little Boy An' eat him up!

An' nen the Little Boy He 'uz skeered worse'n ever! An' here come The grea'-big Bear a-climbin' th' tree to git The Little Boy an' eat him up--Oh, _no_!-- It 'uzn't the _Big_ Bear 'at dumb the tree-- It 'uz the _Little_ Bear. So here _he_ come Climbin' the tree--an' climbin' the tree! Nen when He git wite _clos't_ to the Little Boy, w'y nen The Little Boy he ist pulled up his gun An' _shot_ the Bear, he did, an' killed him dead!

An' nen the Bear he falled clean on down out The tree--away clean to the ground, he did-- _Spling-splung!_ he falled _plum_ down, an' killed him, too!

An' lit wite side o' where the _Big_ Bear's at.

An' nen the Big Bear's awful mad, you bet!-- 'Cause--'cause the Little Boy he shot his gun An' killed the _Little_ Bear.--'Cause the _Big_ Bear He--he 'uz the Little Bear's Papa.--An' so here _He_ come to climb the big old tree an' git The Little Boy an' eat him up! An' when The Little Boy he saw the _grea'-big Bear_ A-comin', he 'uz badder skeered, he wuz, Than _any_ time! An' so he think he'll climb Up _higher_--'way up higher in the tree Than the old _Bear_ kin climb, you know.--But he-- He _can't_ climb higher 'an old _Bears_ kin climb,-- 'Cause Bears kin climb up higher in the trees Than any little Boys in all the Wo-r-r-ld!

An' so here come the grea'-big Bear, he did,-- A-climbin' up--an' up the tree, to git The Little Boy an' eat him up! An' so The Little Boy he clumbed on higher, an' higher, An' higher up the tree--an' higher--an' higher-- An' higher'n iss-here _house_ is!--An' here come Th' old Bear--clos'ter to him all the time!-- An' nen--first thing you know,--when th' old Big Bear Wuz wite clos't to him--nen the Little Boy Ist jabbed his gun wite in the old Bear's mouf An' shot an' killed him dead!--No; I _fergot_,-- He didn't shoot the grea'-big Bear at all-- 'Cause _they 'uz no load in the gun_, you know-- 'Cause when he shot the _Little_ Bear, w'y, nen No load 'uz any more nen _in_ the gun!

But th' Little Boy clumbed _higher_ up, he did-- He clumbed _lots_ higher--an' on up _higher_--an' higher An' _higher_--tel he ist _can't_ climb no higher, 'Cause nen the limbs 'uz all so little, 'way Up in the teeny-weeny tip-top of The tree, they'd break down wiv him ef he don't Be keerful! So he stop an' think: An' nen He look around--An' here come th' old Bear!

An' so the Little Boy make up his mind He's got to ist git out o' there _some_ way!-- 'Cause here come the old Bear!--so clos't, his bref's Purt 'nigh so's he kin feel how hot it is Ag'inst his bare feet--ist like old "Ring's" bref When he's ben out a-huntin' an's all tired.

So when th' old Bear's so clos't--the Little Boy Ist gives a grea'-big jump fer _'nother_ tree-- No!--no he don't do that!--I tell you what The Little Boy does:--W'y, nen--w'y, he--Oh, _yes_-- The Little Boy _he finds a hole up there 'At's in the tree_--an' climbs in there an' _hides_-- An' _nen_ th' old Bear can't find the Little Boy At all!--But, purty soon th' old Bear finds The Little Boy's _gun_ 'at's up there--'cause the _gun_ It's too _tall_ to tooked wiv him in the hole.

So, when the old Bear find' the _gun_, he knows The Little Boy's ist _hid_ 'round _somers_ there,-- An' th' old Bear 'gins to snuff an' sniff around, An' sniff an' snuff around--so's he kin find Out where the Little Boy's hid at.--An' nen--nen-- Oh, _yes_!--W'y, purty soon the old Bear climbs 'Way out on a big limb--a grea'-long limb,-- An' nen the Little Boy climbs out the hole An' takes his ax an' chops the limb off!... Nen The old Bear falls _k-splunge_! clean to the ground An' bust an' kill hisse'f plum dead, he did!

An' nen the Little Boy he git his gun An' 'menced a-climbin' down the tree ag'in-- No!--no, he _didn't_ git his _gun_--'cause when The _Bear_ falled, nen the _gun_ falled, too--An' broked It all to pieces, too!--An' _nicest_ gun!-- His Pa ist buyed it!--An' the Little Boy Ist cried, he did; an' went on climbin' down The tree--an' climbin' down--an' climbin' down!-- _An'-sir_! when he 'uz purt'-nigh down,--w'y, nen _The old Bear he jumped up ag'in_!--an' he Ain't dead at all--ist '_tendin_' thataway, So he kin git the Little Boy an' eat Him up! But the Little Boy he 'uz too smart To climb clean _down_ the tree.--An' the old Bear He can't climb _up_ the tree no more--'cause when He fell, he broke one of his--he broke _all_ His legs!--an' nen he _couldn't_ climb! But he Ist won't go 'way an' let the Little Boy Come down out of the tree. An' the old Bear Ist growls 'round there, he does--ist growls an' goes "_Wooh!--woo-ooh!_" all the time! An' Little Boy He haf to stay up in the tree--all night-- An' 'thout no _supper_ neether!--On'y they Wuz _apples_ on the tree!--An' Little Boy Et apples--ist all night--an' cried--an' cried!

Nen when 't'uz morning th' old Bear went "_Wooh_!"

Ag'in, an' try to climb up in the tree An' git the Little Boy.--But he _can't_ Climb t'save his _soul_, he can't!--An' _oh_! he's _mad_!-- He ist tear up the ground! an' go "_Woo-ooh_!"

An'--_Oh, yes!_--purty soon, when morning's come All _light_--so's you kin _see_, you know,--w'y, nen The old Bear finds the Little Boy's _gun_, you know, 'At's on the ground.--(An' it ain't broke at all-- I ist _said_ that!) An' so the old Bear think He'll take the gun an' _shoot_ the Little Boy:-- But _Bears they_ don't know much 'bout shootin' guns: So when he go to shoot the Little Boy, The old Bear got the _other_ end the gun Ag'in' his shoulder, 'stid o' _th'other_ end-- So when he try to shoot the Little Boy, It shot _the Bear_, it did--an' killed him dead!

An' nen the Little Boy clumb down the tree An' chopped his old woolly head off:--Yes, an' killed The _other_ Bear ag'in, he did--an' killed All _boff_ the bears, he did--an' tuk 'em home An' _cooked_'em, too, an' _et_'em!

--An' that's all.

COLONEL CARTER'S STORY OF THE POSTMASTER

BY F. HOPKINSON SMITH

"Take, for instance, the town of Caartersville: look at that peaceful village which for mo' than a hundred years has enjoyed the privileges of free government; and not only Caartersville, but all our section of the State."

"Well, what's the matter with Cartersville?" asked Fitz, lighting his cigar.

"Mattah, suh! Just look at the degradation it fell into hardly ten years ago. A Yankee jedge jurisdiction our laws, a Yankee sheriff enfo'cin'

'em, and a Yankee postmaster distributin' letters and sellin' postage stamps."

"But they were elected all right, Colonel, and represented the will of the people."

"What people? Yo' people, not mine. No, my dear Fitz; the Administration succeeding the war treated us shamefully, and will go down to postehity as infamous."

The colonel here left his chair and began pacing the floor, his indignation rising at every step.

"To give you an idea, suh," he continued, "of what we Southern people suffe'd immediately after the fall of the Confederacy, let me state a case that came under my own observation.

"Coloner Temple Talcott of F'okeer County, Virginia, came into Talcottville one mornin', suh,--a town settled by his ancestors,--ridin'

upon his horse--or rather a mule belongin' to his overseer. Colonel Talcott, suh, belonged to one of the vehy fust families in Virginia. He was a son of Jedge Thaxton Talcott, and grandson of General Snowden Stafford Talcott of the Revolutionary War. Now, suh, let me tell you right here that the Talcott blood is as blue as the sky, and that every gentleman bearin' the name is known all over the county as a man whose honor is dearer to him than his life, and whose word is as good as his bond. Well, suh, on this mornin' Colonel Talcott left his plantation in charge of his overseer,--he was workin' it on shares,--and rode through his estate to his ancestral town, some five miles distant. It is true, suh, these estates were no longer in his name, but that had no bearin'

on the events that followed; he ought to have owned them, and would have done so but for some vehy ungentlemanly fo'closure proceedin's which occurred immediately after the war.

"On arriving at Talcottville the colonel dismounted, handed the reins to his servant,--or perhaps one of the n.i.g.g.e.rs around de do'--and entered the post-office. Now, suh, let me tell you that one month befo', the Government, contrary to the express wishes of a great many of our leadin' citizens, had sent a Yankee postmaster to Talcottville to administer the postal affairs of the town. No sooner had this man taken possession than he began to be exclusive, suh, and to put on airs. The vehy fust air he put on was to build a fence in his office and compel our people to transact their business through a hole. This in itself was vehy gallin', suh, for up to that time the mail had always been dumped out on the table in the stage office and every gentleman had he'ped himself. The next thing was the closin' of his mail bags at a' hour fixed by himself. This became a great inconvenience to our citizens, who were often late in finishin' their correspondence, and who had always found our former postmaster willin' either to hold the bag over until the next day, or to send it across to Drummondtown by a boy to catch a later train.

"Well, suh, Colonel Talcott's mission to the post-office was to mail a letter to his factor in Richmond, Virginia, on business of the utmost importance to himself,--namely, the raisin' of a small loan upon his share of the crop. Not the crop that was planted, suh, but the crop that he expected to plant.

"Colonel Talcott approached the hole, and with that Chesterfieldian manner which has distinguished the Talcotts for mo' than two centuries, asked the postmaster for the loan of a three-cent postage stamp.

"To his astonishment, suh, he was refused.

"Think of a Talcott in his own county town bein' refused a three-cent postage stamp by a low-lived Yankee, who had never known a gentleman in his life! The colonel's first impulse was to haul the scoundrel through the hole and caarve him; but then he remembered that he was a Talcott and could not demean himself, and drawin' himself up again with that manner which was grace itself he requested the loan of a three-cent postage stamp until he should communicate with his factor in Richmond, Virginia; and again he was refused. Well, suh, what was there left for a high-toned Southern gentleman to do? Colonel Talcott drew his revolver and shot that Yankee scoundrel through the heart, and killed him on the spot.

"And now, suh, comes the most remarkable part of the story. If it had not been for Major Tom Yancey, Jedge Kerfoot and myself, there would have been a lawsuit."

Fitz lay back in his chair and roared.

"And they did not hang the colonel?"

"Hang a Talcott! No, suh; we don't hang gentlemen down our way. Jedge Kerfoot vehy properly charged the coroner's jury that it was a matter of self-defense, and Colonel Talcott was not detained mo' than haalf an hour."

The colonel stopped, unlocked a closet in the sideboard, and produced a black bottle labeled in ink, "Old Cherry Bounce, 1848."