The Wooing of Calvin Parks

"Did you ever?" cried Mary Sands. "I never knew a hoss could have that much sense, Mr. Parks. Why, 'twas like a person more than a dumb critter."

"There's critters and critters!" said Calvin Parks. "Hossy's a prize package, that's a fact. Want a bite, hossy? tain't dinner time yet, but a bite won't hurt you."

He took a nose-bag from the wagon and hung it over the brown horse's head. The horse, who had gone to sleep as soon as he stopped, opened one eye, blinked at his master, and shut it again.

"Oh, all right!" said Calvin. "Any time; suit yourself! Only I can't wag your jaws for ye, ye know."

Mary had turned to enter the house, saying something about telling Cousin he was coming.

"Oh! wait just a minute, Miss Hands!" Calvin called. "I took the liberty – " he rummaged among his drawers, and finally brought out a small parcel.

"I dono – most prob'ly it ain't just what you'd like. I couldn't tell what flavor you'd prefer, and I always think myself that pep'mint is the wholesomest – "

Amazed and embarrassed at finding himself embarrassed, Calvin paused awkwardly, holding the box of peppermints in his hand; but when he saw Mary Sands blushing in the delightful red and brown way she had, and caught the twinkle in her eye, he was suddenly at ease again.

"You try 'em!" he said simply, and gave her the box.

"Why, Mr. Parks!" cried Mary. "You don't mean to say you brought these for me? Well, you are more than kind, I must say. Why, they're deleecious! There's nothing like pep'mint to my taste; now this is surely a treat. I'm a thousand times obliged to you, Mr. Parks. These don't taste like boughten candy; there's a real kind of home-made flavor to 'em."

"That's right!" said Calvin. "That's just it; they are home-made. Them pep'mints is made by an old gentleman in East Cyrus. I lighted on 'em by accident, as you might say, and 'twas a good job I did."

"How was that?" Mary inquired civilly.

"Why, I ain't greatly acquainted in these parts, you know, Miss Hands; been away so much, you understand, and never was one to go much when I was to home, only amongst the near neighbors. I dono as ever I was in East Cyrus before. 'Tis a pleasant-lookin' place. Nice street; not many stores, but what there was was ship-shape and Bristol fashion; folks personable and well-appearin'; I was pleased with East Cyrus. I druv along kind o' slow, lookin' for my kind of a place; sure enough, I come to a little store with candy in the window. Hossy saw it too, and stopped of his own accord.

"'That so?' says I. 'Friend of yours, hossy?' He nods his head real sociable, hossy doos, and I was just goin' to ramble down out of that squirrel-cage, when the door opens kind o' smart, and someone hollers out, 'I don't want any! You can go right along!'

"'Can!' says I. 'Now that's real accommodatin' of you. Anywheres special you'd like me to go? That's what I come to inquire about,' I says.

"He was a little man, kind o' dried up, but yet smart-lookin', and he was smart. He looks at hossy. 'You can go to Thunder!' he says.

"'First turn to the right, or second to the left?' says I. Then he looks at me. 'Hello!' he says; 'it ain't you!'

"'No,' I says; 'it ain't. It's my half-uncle's widder from out west,' I says.

"He kind o' laughed. 'What are you doin' with his hoss, then?' says he.

"'I bought it off'n him,' says I; 'it's my hoss now, and my team. Like to know how many teeth we've got between us?'

"'Well, all the same I don't want any!' he says; and he starts to go back into the store.

"'Excuse me!' I says, as polite as I knew how. 'Would you have any objections to namin' over the things you don't want? I didn't know as I'd offered you anything, but mebbe I done it in my sleep.'

"'Glucose is one thing,' he says. 'Terry alba, coal-tar, plaster-of-Paris; them's some of the things I don't want. And you're another. Is that enough?'

"'Not quite I says. 'Go slow, shipmate! If you wanted them things the wust way in the world you couldn't get 'em off'n me, 'cause I ain't got 'em."

"He grunted. 'Tell that to the monkey!' he says.

"'I am,' I says, 'or the nearest I can see to one.'

"'He always had 'em he says,'and tried to sell 'em to me every time he come by.'

"'I know!' says I. 'I found 'em in the stock, and I sot 'em on the fire and seen 'em burn. Gitty up, hossy!' I says. 'We'll go on and see if there's any place in this village where they keep manners,' I says, 'and we'll send this old gentleman a half a pound to stock up with!' I says.

"'Hold on!' he says. 'I spoke too quick. Come in and we'll talk.'

"So I went. Had half a mind not to, but 'twan't the sensible half. I tell you, I had a real pleasant time, Miss Hands. Come to get him smoothed down and combed out, and he was as pleasant an old gentleman as ever I see. But he was an old-fashioned candy-maker, you see, and he didn't like these new-fangled ways any more than what I do. Never had a pound of glucose on his premises, nor never will; nothin' but pure sugar. We had a real good time together; and he gave me them pep'mints, and I'm goin' to have 'em reg'lar every week. He's got a little kitchen in back there that's a perfect pictur' to look at. I'd like to have you see it, Miss Hands, honest I would."

At this moment a loud and peevish crow was heard from the house.

"There!" said Mary Sands. "We must be goin' in, Mr. Parks. Cousin's gettin' impatient, I expect."

They found Mr. Sim fairly spluttering with impatience.

"What – what – what – " he began as they entered; "I didn't know as you was ever comin', Cousin. I'd oughter have had my med'cine – that you, Cal? – half an hour ago; set down, won't you? half a glass, with sugar and hot water! pretty well, be ye? I'm most choked to death, settin' here waitin'."

"There, Cousin!" said Mary Sands in her mellow, soothing voice. "I'll get you the medicine right away; though if the truth was told I expect you'd be better off without it. I don't hold with all this dosin', do you, Mr. Parks?"

"I do not!" said Calvin Parks. "Looks to me as if all the doses he'd been takin' for a week was havin' it out inside him, and no two agreein'. Say, Sim! s'pose you let Miss Hands throw away all that stuff, and take a pep'mint instead."

CHAPTER VI

BOARD AND LODGING

"Take a seat, Mr. Parks!" said Mary Sands, hospitably. "Talk of angels! Cousins and I were just speakin' of you, and sayin' you never told us the rest of that nice story you began the first time you was here."

"What story?" asked Calvin Parks.

"Why, your own story, to be sure. You told us how you was displeased at a woman's bein' owner of your schooner, – " her eyes twinkled mischievously, – "and how you come ashore and set up your candy route; but Cousins were just sayin' they didn't know where you lived, nor how you was fixed anyways, except that you had that nice hoss and waggin."

"That so?" said Calvin, musing. "Well, I don't know as there's any particklar story to the rest on't. I drive my route, you know; quite a ways it is; takes me about a week to git round it all. 'Tis pleasant doin's for the most part, only when it comes to gettin' in and out of this shay; that gits me every time. But I see the country, you know – pretty country it is; I never see a prettier, – and meet up with folks and all, – "

"Where do you reside?" inquired Mr. Sam. He had moved his chair near the door of Mr. Sim's sitting-room, where Calvin was, and now peered round the doorjamb, his body invisible, his little wizen face appearing as if hung in air.

"Great snakes, Sam!" exclaimed Calvin Parks. "Don't scare the life out of us. Where's the rest of you? No use your pretendin' to be one of them cherub articles, 'cause you don't look it, and don't let anyone deceive you into thinkin' you do. I live – if you call it livin', – down Tinkham way, about ten miles from here. I'm boardin' with Widder Marlin and her daughter. Ever hear of Phrony Marlin? Well, she's a case, Phrony is, and the old lady's another. Widder of a sea-cap'n that I sailed with in former days. She has a little home, and she lets me have a room. I don't know as the old lady is quite right in her mind – I don't know as either one of 'em is, come to think of it; and she ain't much of a cook; but as she says, it's only suppers and breakfasts, and it's all dust and ashes anyway. It ain't worth while to make trouble, and I git on first-rate."

"I'm afraid they don't make you real comfortable, Mr. Parks!" said Mary Sands. "I should think they might; I don't believe but what you do your part and more too."

"Well, I dono!" said Calvin simply. "I try to help out, split the wood, kerry water and like that; two lone women, ye know, no man belongin' to 'em; I wouldn't wish to let 'em feel forsaken any."

"Do they give you enough to eat?" inquired Mr. Sim.

"Oh, I guess so. They don't feed me any too high, but they don't live any higher themselves. Phrony has the dyspepsy – I dono as it's surprisin' that she should – and the old lady has an idee that eatin' is a snare of the evil one, and she gits along on next door after nothin', as you may say."

"The idea!" cried Mary Sands, indignantly. "Mr. Parks, why do you stay there? I wouldn't if I was you, not another day."

"Oh! they don't mean no harm," said Calvin; "not a mite. I git on first-rate so long as they do; it's only when they get to quarrellin' that I mind. When they fall afoul of each other, it ain't real agreeable; but there's where it comes in handy bein' a man. Hossy and me can git out from under foot most times, and leave 'em to train by themselves."