Widow Cobb

The flre crackied cheerfully on the broad hearth of the old farm-house kitchen, a cat and three kittens basked in the warmth, and a deorepit yellow dog, lying ftül in the refleotion of the blaze, wrinkled his black nose approvingly as he turned his hind feet where his fore feet had been. Over the chimney hung several fine hams and pieces of dried beef. Apples were festooned along the ceiling, and crooked-necked squashes vied with red peppers and slips of dried pumpkins in garnishing eacn window-frame. There were plants, too, on the window-ledgea - horseshoe geraniums and plants, and a monthly rose jiist budding, to say nothing of pots of violets that perfumed the whole place whenever they took it it into their purple heads to bloom. The floor was carefully swept - the ohairs had not a speek of dust upon leg or road; the long settee near the fireplaoe slione as if it had just been varnished, and the eight-day clock in the corner had had its white face newly washed, and seemed determined to tick the louder for it. Two arm-chairs were drawn up at a cozy distance from the hearth and each other; a candle, a newspaper, a pair of spectacles, a dish of red-cheeked apples, and a pitcher of eider, filled a little table between theni. In one of these chairs sat a comfortable-looking woman of about 45, with checks as red as the apples, and eyes as dark and bright as they had ever been, resting lier elbow on the table, and looking very thoughtfully into the flre. This was Widow Cobb - "relict" of Deacon Levi Oobb, who had been moldering into dust in tho Bytown churohyard for more than seven years. She was thinking of her dead Imsband, possibly becauso - all her work being done, and the servants gone to bed - the sight of nis empty chair at the other side of the table, and the silence of the room, made her a little lonely. "Seven years," so the widow's rêverie ran. "It secms as if it were more than flfty - and jet I don't look so very old either. Perhaps it's not having any ohildren to bother my life out, as other people have. They may say what they like- ohildren are more plague than profit - that's my opinión. Look at my sister Jërasha, with her six boys. She's worn to a shadow, and I am sure they have done it, though she will never own it. The widow took an apple from the dish and began to peel it. " How dreadfnl fond Mr. Oobb used to be of these grafts. He will never eat any more of them, poor fellow, for I don't suppose they have appies where he bas gone to. Heigho ! I remember very well how I used to throw apple-parings over my head when I was a girl, to eee who I was going to marry. " Mrs. Cobb stopped short and blushed. For in those days she did not kuow Mr. Oobb, and was always looking eagerly to see if the peel had formed a capital "S." Her meditations took a new ;um. "How handsome Sam Payson was, and howmuch I used to care about him! [ wonder what has become of him ? Jerusha says he went away from our vilage just after I did, and no one has ever ïeard of him sino e. And what a silly ihing that quairel was ! If it had not jeen for that - " Here caine a long pause, during which j ihe widow looked very steadfastly at he empty arm-chair of Levi Cobb, deceased. Her fingers played carelessly with the apple-paring; she drew it slowy toward her, and looked around the room. " Upon my word, it is very ridiciüous, and I don't know what the neighbors would say if they saw me." Still the plump fingers drew the red eel neair r. " But then they can't see me, that's a omfort, and the cat and old Bowse will never know what it means. Of course I .on't believe anything about it." The paring hung very gracelully from ïer hand. "But still I should like to try it; it would seem like old times, and - " Over her head it went and curled up very quietly on the floor at a little dis;ance. Old Bowse, who always slept with one eye open, saw it fall, and marcbed deliberately up to smell of it. j "Bowse - Bowse - don't touch it," j ried his mistress, and, bending over it ! with a beating heart, she turned as red s flre. " There was as handsome a i ;al " S " as anyone could wish to see. A great knock carne suddenly at the I oor. Bowse growled, and the widow creamed and snatched up the j )aring. " It's Mr. Cobb - it's his spirit come )ack because I tried that silly tri ck," she iiought fearfully to herself. Another knock, louder than the first, nd a man's voics exclaimed : "Hillo, tlie house !" " Who is it ?" asked the widow, somewhat relieved to find that the departe d jevi was still safe in his grave upon the ïillside. " A stranger," said the voice. "What do you want?" " To get lodging for the night." The widow deliberated. "Can't you go on- there's a house ïalf a mile further, if you keep to the right hand side of the road and turn to ie left after you get by - " "It's raming cats and dogs, and I'm ery delicate," said the stranger, coughng. " I'm wet to the skin - don't you iink you can accommodate me- I don't mind sleeping on the floor." " Kaining, is it ? I didn't know that ;" nd the kmd-hearted little woman un)arred the door very quickly. "Come n, whoever you may be. I only asked ou to go on because I am a lone womm with only one servant in the house." The stranger entered, shaking himelf iike a Newfoundland dog upon the fcep, and scattering a little shower of rops over his hostess and her nicelywept floor. "Oh, that looks comfortable aftera man has been out for hours in a storm," e said, as he caught sight of the fire, nd, striding along toward the hearth, bllowed by Bowse, who sniffed tuspiiously at his heels, he stationed himelf in the arm-chair - Mr. Cobb's armhair, which had been kept sacred to his memory for seven years. The widow was horrified, but her guest lcoked so weary and worn out that she could not sk bim to move, but busied herself in tirring up the blaze that he might the ooner dry his dripping clothes. A new lought struckher; Mr. Cobb had worn comfortable go wn during his Jness, which still hung in the closet at ie right. She could not let this poor man catch his death by sitting in that wet coat. If he was in Mr. Cobb's hair, why should he not be in Mr. 3obb's wrapper? She went nimblyto ie closet, toak it down, fished out a jair of slippers from a boot-rack below, nd brought them to him. "I think you had better take off your oat and boots; you will have the rheumatic fever, or something like it, if you on't. Here are some things for you to wear while they are drying. And you must be hungry, too; I will go into the )antry and get you something to eat." She bustled away " on hospitable iioughts intent," and the stranger made ie exchange. He was a tall, wellbrmed man, with a bold but handsome ace, sunburned and heavily bearded, and looking anything but "delicate," though his blue oyes glanced out from under a forehead as white as snow. He looked around the kitchen and stretched out his feet bet'ore him, decorated with the deacon's slippers. Then he leaned forward and stroked the cat and her brood, and patted old Bowse upon the head. The widow, bringing in sundry good things, looked pleased at his attentions to hei dumb friends. " It's a wonder Bowse does not growl; he generally does if strangers touch him. Dear me, how stupid !" The last remark wasneitheraddressed to the stranger nor the dog, but tó herself. She had forgotten that the little stand was not empty, and thero was no room ou it for the things she held. " O, ril manage it," said the guest, gathering up paper, candle, appies and spectacles - (it was not without a little pang that she saw them in his hand, for they had been the deacon's, and were placed each night, like the arm-chair, beside her) - and deposited them on the settee. " Give me the table-cloth, ma'am ; I can spread it as well as any womnn. I've learned that along with scores of othe things in my wanderings. Now let me relieve you of those disiies ; they aro far too heavy for those little hands ;" (the widow blushed ;) "now please sit down with me, or I oannot eat a morsel. " "Ihad suppor long ago, but really ! think I can take something more," saic Mrs. Cobb, gently drawing her chair noarer to the little table. "Of course you can, my dear lady - in this cold autunm weather, people ought to eat twice as much as they do in warm. Let me give you a piece o] this ham - jour own curing, I dare say ?' "Yes; my poor husband was very fond of it. He used to say that no one understood curing ham and drying beei better than I." " He was a most sensible man, I am sure. I drink your health, madam, in this eider. " He took a long drauglit, and set down his glass. " It is like nectar." The widow was feeding Bowse and the cat (who thought they were entitled to a share of every meal eaten in the house), and did not quite hear what he said. I fanoy she would hardly have kuown what "nectar" was - so it was quite as well. "Fine dog, ma'am - and a very pretty cat. " " They were my husband's favorites," and a sigh followed the answer. " Ah - your husband must have been a very happy man." The blue eyes looked at her so long that she grew flurried. "Is there anything more I can get for you, sir 1" she asked at last. " NothiDg more, thank you kindly ; I liave finished." She rose to clear the things away. He assisted her, and somehow their hands had a queer knack of touching as they carritsd the dishes to the pantry-shelves. Coming back to the kitchen, she put the apples and eider in their old places, and brought out a clean pipe and a box of tobacco from an arched recess near the chimney. " My husband always said he could not sleep after eating supper late, unless he smoked," she said. " Perhaps you would like to try it, sir ?" "Not if it is to drive you away," he answered, for. she had her candle in her hand. w " O, no - I do not object to smoke at all." She put the candle down - some faint suggestion about "propriety" troubled her, but she glanced at the clock and feit assured. It was only halfpast nine. The stranger pushed the stand back after the pipe was lit, and drew her easy-chair a little nearcr the fire- and his own. " Come, sit down," he said, pleadingly. " It's not too late ; and when a man has been knocking about in California, ana all sorts ol places, lor a berth like this ; and to have a good-natured, pretty woman to speak to once again - " " California? Have you been in California?" she exclaimed, dropping into the chair at once. Unconsciouály, she had loig cherished the idea that Sam Payson - the lover of her youth - with whom she had so foolishly quarreled, had pitched his tent, alter many wanderings, in that faroff land. Her heart warmed to one who, with something of Sam's looks and ways about him, had been sojourning in that country- and who very possibly had met him - perhaps had known him intimately ! At that thought her heart beat quick, and she looked very graoiously at the bearded stranger, who, wrapped in Mr. Cobb's dressing-gown, wearing Mr. Cobb's slippsrs, and, sitting in Mr. Oobb's chair beside Mr. Cobb's wife, smoked Mr. Cobb's pipe, with sucb an air of feeling most thoroughly and comfortably at home ! " Yes, ma'am ; I've been in California for the last six years. And before that I went quite round the world in a wlialing snip." " Good gracious !" The stranger eent a pufl of smoke curling gracefully over his hcad. "It's very strange, my dear lady, how often you see one thing as you go wandering about the world after that fashion ?" " And what is that ?" " Men, without house or home above their heads, roving here and there, and turning up in all sorts of odd places, earing very little for Ufe as a general thing, and making fortunes jnst to fling them away again - and all for one reason. You don't ask me what that is ! No doubt you know already very well. " "I think not, sir." "Because a woman has jilted them !" Here was a long pause, and Mr. Cobb's pipe emitted short puiïs with surprising rapidity. A guilty conscience needs no accuser, and the widow's cheekwasdyed with bluslies as she thought of the absent Sam. " I wonder how women manage when they gei servcd in the same way," said the stranger, musingly. "Yon never meet them roaming up and down in that style." "No," said Mrs. Cobb, with some spirit; "if a woman is in trouble, she muet stay at home and bear it in the best way she can. And there's more women bearing snch things than we know of, I dare say." "Like enough. We never know whose hands get pinched in a trap unlcss they scream. And women are too shy, or toe sensible, whichever you choose, or that." " Did you ever, in all your wanderings, meet any one by the name of Samuel Payson ?" asked the widow, unconcernedly. The stranger looked toward her - she ■was rummaging her drawer for the knitting-work, and did not notice him. When it was found and the needies in motion, he answered hor: "PayBon? Sam Payson? What! He was my most intimate friend ! Do you know him ?" " A little - that is, I used to when I was a girl. Where did you meet him ?" "He went with me on the whaling voyage I told you of, and afterward to California. We had a tent together, and some other fellows with us, and we dug in the same claim for more than six months. " " I suppose he was quite well?" " Strong as an ox, my dear lady." "And - and happy V' said the widow, bending close over her knitting. " Hum- the less said about that the better - perhaps. But he seemed to enjoy life after a i'asbion of his own. And he got rich out there, or rather, I will say, very well off." " Mrs. Cobb did not pay much attention to that part of the story. Evidently she had not finished asking questions. But sho was puzzled about her next one. At last she brought it out beautif ully : "Washis wife with him in California ?" The stranger looked at lier with a twinkling eye. " His wife, ma'am ? Why, bless you, he hasu't got one !" " O, I thought - I mean heard" - here the little widow remembered the fate of AnaniíiBímd 8apphira,and stopped bef ore she told a tremendous fib. " Wh ate ver you heard of his marrying was all nonsense, I ean assure you. I know him well, and he had no thought of the kind about him. Some of the boys used to tease him about it - but he very soon made them stop." "How?" " He just told them frankly that the only woman he had ever loved had jilted him years before, and married another man. After that no one ever mentioned the subject to him again except me." Mre. Cobb laid her knitting aaide and looked thoughtfully into the fire. " He was another specimen of the class of men I was speaking of. I have seen him face death a score of times as quietly as I face the fire. ' It matters very little what takes me off,' he used to say ; ' I've nothing to live for, and there's no one to shed a tear for me when I am gone. ' It's a sad thought for a man to have, isn't it?" Mrs. Cobb sighed as she said she thought it was. ''But did he ever teil you the name of the lady who jilted him ?" "I know her flrst name." "What was it?" "Maria," Tke plump little widow almost started out of her chair, the name was spoken so exactly as San: would have said it. " Did you know her?" he said, looking seenly at her. "Yes." "Intimately?" "Yes." "And whereis she now? Still happy with her husband, I suppose, and nevor giving a thought to the poor fellow she drove out into the world ?" "No,"said Mrs. Cobb, shading her ace with her ñand, and speaking unsteadily. "No; her husband is dfad." "Ah! But still she never thinks of Sam. " There was a dead silence. "Does she?" "How can I teil?" "Are you still friends ?" "Yes." "Then you ought to know. Teil me." "I am sure I don't know why I hould. But, if I do, you must promise me, on your honor, never to teil him if 'Ou ever meet with him again." "Madam, what you say to me never hall be repeated to any mortal man, upon niy honor. " , "Wel!, then. she does rememberhim " "But how?" "As kindly, I think, as he could wish." "I am glad to hear it, for his sake. Yw _anl J are th? fña-nAa nt im, r,Qv_ ies ; we can rejoice with each other." He drew his chair nearor hers, and ;ook her hand. One moment she reisted, but it was a magie touch ; the osy palm lay very quietly in his, and ;he dark beard bent so low that it nearly ouched hershoulder. It did not matter much. Was he not Samuel Payson's lear friend ? If he was not the rose, iftd he not dwelt very near it for a lona-, ong time ? "Itwas a very foolish quarrel that arted them," said the stranger, softly. " Did he teil you about it ?" "Yes, on board the whaler." "Did he blame her much?" " Not so much as himself. He said .hat his jealousy and ill-temper drove ïer to break off the match ; but he .hought sometimes if he had only gone ack and spoken kindly to her, she would have married him after all." "I ara sure she would," said thewidw, piteously. "She has owned it to me more than a thousand times." "She vas not happy, then, with anther?" "Mr. , that is to say, her hus)and, was very good and kind," said the ittle woman, thinking of the lonely grave n the hillside rather penitently, "and .hey lived very pleasantly together. liere never was a narsh word between hem." "Still - might she not have been hap)ier with Sam ? Be honest, and say just what you think." "Yes." "Bravo! That is what I wanted to ome at. And now I have a secret to ell you, and you mutt break it to her." Mrs. Cobb looked ratter scared. "Whatisit?" " I want yon to go and see her, wherver she may be, and say to her ' Maria ' - what makes you stare so ?" " Nothing - only you speak so like ome one I used to know." "Do I?- well, take the rest of the message. Teil her that Sam loved her ;hrough the whole; that when he heard he was free, he began to work hard at making a fortune; he has got it, and is coming to share it with her, if she will et him. Will you teil her this ?" The widow did not answer. She had 'reed her hand from his, and covercd ïer face with it. By-and-by she looked ip apain. He was waiting patiently. "Well?" "I will teil her." He rose from his seat, and walked up and down the room. Then he carne jack, and, leaning on the mantel-piece, troked the yellow hide of Bowse with lis slipper. " Make her quite understand that he wants her for his wife. Sho may live vhere she likes and how she likes. only t must be with liim." "I will teil her." " Say he has grown old, but not cold ; ;hat he loves her now, perhaps, better han he did twenty years ago ; that he ïas been faithful to her all his Hfe, and hat he will be faithful till he dies - " The Californian broke off suddenly. ?he widow answered still : "I will teil her." "And what do you think she will say?" ie asked, in an altered tone. " What can she say but - come f" "Hurrali!" The stranger caught her out f her chair as if she had been a child, and riesed her. "Don't - O, don't!" she ciïed out. ' I am Sam's Maria." " 1 am Maria's Sam !" Off went the dark wig and the black whiskers - there smiled the dear face he had never forgotten. I leave you ;o imagine the tableau. Even the cat got up to look, and Bowse sat on his 'tump of a tail and wondered whether ie was on his heels or his head. The ittle widow gave one screani, and then said - But stop ! Quiet people like you and me, dear reader, who have got over all -hese follies, and can do nothing but urn up our noses at them, have no business here. I will only add that two ïearts were very happy; that Bowse cluded after a while that all was right, and so lay down to sleep again - and that not a great wliile afterward there was a wedding at the house that made the neighboring farmers stare. Widow Gobb had married her tirst love !