The Wooing of Calvin Parks

They were sitting in the harness-room, she in the chair, he on the bucket. There was a fire in the stove, and the place was full of the pleasant smell of warm leather. Their speech was punctuated by the stamping and neighing of the brown horse, the young colt, the old horse of all, the mare, and Old John, in the stable adjoining.

Mary Sands' hazel eyes were full of a half-humorous anxiety.

"I wanted to talk to you a little about Cousins!" she said. "They've been actin' real strange the past week, ever since you was here last. Honest, I don't believe they've thought of one single thing besides each other. Werryin' and frettin' and watchin' – I'm 'most worn out with 'em. There! if it warn't so comical I should cry, and if it warn't so pitiful I should laugh. That's just the way I feel about it, Mr. Parks."

"Sho!" said Calvin sympathetically. "I don't wonder at it, Miss Hands, not a mite. They haven't got round to speakin' to each other yet, I s'pose?"

Mary shook her head. "No!" she said. "They want to, I'm sure of that, but yet neither one of 'em will speak first. Such foolishness I never did see. Now take yesterday! Cousin Sam went to town, and Cousin Sim werried every single minute he was gone. The mare was skittish, and the harness might break, and he might meet the cars, and I don't know what all. If he called me off my work once he did a dozen times, till I thought I should fly. By the time Cousin Sam got back he was all worn out, and soon as he heard him safe in the house he dropped off asleep in his chair. Well! then 'twas all to do over again with Cousin Sam. How had Simeon been, and what had he been doin' while he was gone, and didn't I think he had a bad color at breakfast? Then Cousin Sim begun to snore, and Cousin Sam would have it that 'twarn't natural snorin', and he must be in a catamouse condition."

"What did he mean by that?" asked Calvin.

"That's what he said!" Mary replied. "It's a medical term, but I don't know as he got it just right. It means sleepin' kind of heavy and unhealthy, I understand. 'Well,' I says, 'Cousin Sam, just you step here and look at Cousin Sim!' So he did, and see him sound asleep with his mouth open, lookin' peaceful as a fish. He stood and looked at him a spell, and I see his mouth begin to work. 'There's nothin' catamouse about that sleep, Cousin!' I says. 'There couldn't a baby sleep easier than what he is.' He shakes his head mournful. 'Simeon's aged terrible since Ma went,' he says. He stood there lookin' at him a spell longer, and then he give a kind of groan and went back to his own chair.

"Now, Mr. Parks, it's time this foolishness was put a stop to."

"That's right!" said Calvin Parks. "That's so, Miss Hands. I believe you've got a plan to stop it, too."

"I have!" said Mary Sands. "I've been studyin' it out while I was settin' here waitin' for you. This is Christmas Day, Mr. Parks; and if you'll help me, I believe we can bring it about to-day. Will you?"

"Will I?" said Calvin Parks. "Will a dog bark?"

"Merry Christmas, Sam!" said Calvin Parks.

"Same to you, Calvin, same to you!" said Mr. Sam. "Come in! come in! Shet the door after you, will ye?"

Calvin shut the door into the entry. Mr. Sam glanced about him uneasily.

"You might shet the other too, if you don't mind!" he said. "Thank ye! Have you seen Simeon this mornin', Calvin?"

"Not yet," said Calvin. "I come straight in the front door and in here. What's the matter? Ain't he all right?"

"Simeon is failin'!" replied Mr. Sam. "He's failin' right along, Calvin. I expect this is the last Christmas he'll see on earth. I – I was down street yesterday," he added, after a solemn pause, "and it occurred to me he hadn't had a new pair of slippers for a dog's age. I thought I'd get a pair, and mebbe you'd give 'em to him."

"Mebbe I'd stand on my head!" retorted Calvin. "Give 'em to him yourself, you old catnip!"

"No! no, Calvin! no! no! I'd ruther you would!" said Mr. Sam anxiously. "I'd take it real friendly if you would, sir!"

"Well, we'll see!" said Calvin. "Hello! dressed up for Christmas, be ye?"

Mr. Sam looked down in some embarrassment. His red flannel waistcoat was replaced by a black one.

"We never made so much of Christmas as some," he said; "but yet Ma allers had us dress up for Christmas dinner, and I thought this seemed a mite more dress, you understand, Calvin. What say?"

"Looks first-rate!" said Calvin cheerfully. "You don't look a mite worse than you did before, as I see. Now I guess I'll step in and pass the time of day with Sim."

"Hold on jest a minute!" said Mr. Sam anxiously. "Hold on jest a half a minute, Cal! That ain't all I was wishful to say to you. Have you – I would say – have you approached that subject we was speakin' of a while back, to Cousin?"

"What subject?" said Calvin Parks doggedly.

"Don't be cantankerous, Calvin! now don't!" said Mr. Sam. "It's Christmas Day. The subject of matrimony, you know."

"I have!" said Calvin. "She won't look at him! She wouldn't look at him if the only other man in the world was Job Toothaker's scarecrow, that scared the seeds under ground so they never came up. There's your answer!"

"Dear me sirs!" cried Mr. Sam, wringing his hands. "Dear me sirs! I don't know what's goin' to become of us, Calvin, I reelly don't!"

"Well!" said Calvin; "I guess likely you'll werry through the day, Sam. I know what's goin' to become of me; I'm goin' in to see Sim."

"Take the slippers, won't ye, Calvin?" cried Mr. Sam. "Tell him to wear 'em and save his boots. He's allers ben terrible hard on shoe-leather, Simeon has."

Calvin took the slippers with a grunt, and went into the next room, closing the door after him.

"Merry Christmas!" he cried. "How are you, Sim?"

"I'm obliged to you, Calvin; I am slim!" replied Mr. Sim. "I am unusual slim, sir. Take a seat, won't you?"

"I said Merry Christmas!" Calvin remarked gruffly. "Can't you speak up in the way of the season? Come, buck up, old timothy-grass! Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas!" echoed Mr. Sim meekly; "though if your laigs was as bad as mine, Calvin, you might think different. If I get through this winter – what you got there?"

"Slippers!" said Calvin. "Christmas present from Sam. Wants you to wear 'em and save shoe-leather."

"The failin's of Sam'l's mind," said Mr. Sim gravely, "are growin' on him ekal to those of his body. Shoe-leather! when I ain't stepped foot outside the door since Ma died. But they are handsome, certin; you may thank him for me, Calvin."

"May!" said Calvin. "That's a sweet privilege, no two ways about that. Hello! what in Tunkett – " he stopped, abruptly, staring. "Splice my halyards if you haven't got a red one!" Mr. Sim glanced down with shy pride at his waistcoat.

"Christmas Day, you know, Calvin!" he said. "We allers made some little change in our dress, sir, for Christmas dinner. I thought 'twould please Ma, and Cousin, and – and the other one, too!" he added, with a furtive glance toward the door.

"Well, I am blowed!" said Calvin Parks plaintively. "I certinly am this time. You boys is too much for me."

Mr. Sim coughed modestly, and cast another coy glance at the red waistcoat. "How is poor Sam'l this mornin', Calvin?" he asked mournfully. "Do you find him changed much of any?"

"I do not!" said Calvin. "He's just about as handsome, and just about as takin' as he was last time, fur as I see."

"Ah!" sighed Mr. Sim. "You don't see below the surface, Cal."

"Nor don't wish to!" retorted Calvin. "That's quite sufficient for me."

"I've got the feelin' in my bones," Mr. Sim went on, "that somethin' is goin' to happen to Sam'l, Calvin. He's that reckless, sir, I look 'most any day to see him brought home a mangled remain. Call it a warnin', or what you will, I believe it's comin'. I hear him cuttin' round them corners, and reshin' in and out the yard with them wild hosses, – "

"Wild hosses!" repeated Calvin Parks. "Sim Sill, you feel in your pants pocket, won't you, and see if you can't scare up some wits, just a mite. Old John is thirty if he's a day, and the old hoss of all – well, nobody knows how old he is, beyond that he'll never see forty again. The mare has been here ever since I can remember, or pretty nigh, and your Ma bought the young colt before ever I went to sea. Now talk about wild hosses!"

"It ain't their age, Cal, it's their natur'!" responded Mr. Sim with dignity. "That mare, sir, has never ben stiddy, nor yet will she ever so be, in my opinion."

"Well!" said Calvin Parks. "I'll tell him next time he goes to market, tie her to the well-sweep and walk; you don't cal'late his legs would up and run away with him, do ye? Now I'm goin' to help Miss Hands dish up dinner."

"Hold on, Calvin! hold on jest a minute!" cried Mr. Sim anxiously. "I've got a little present I'd like for you to give Sam'l from me, sir. It's – " he got up, shuffled across the room, and opened a cupboard door. "It's something he's allers coveted."

Fumbling in a box, he took out an ancient seal of red carnelian, and rubbed it lovingly on his coat-sleeve.