A Winter Courtship
The passenger and mail transportation between the towns of North Kilbyand Sanscrit Pond was carried on by Mr. Jefferson Briley, whosetwo-seated covered wagon was usually much too large for the demands ofbusiness. Both the Sanscrit Pond and North Kilby people werestayers-at-home, and Mr. Briley often made his seven-mile journey inentire solitude, except for the limp leather mail-bag, which he heldfirmly to the floor of the carriage with his heavily shod left foot.The mail-bag had almost a personality to him, born of longassociation. Mr. Briley was a meek and timid-looking body, but he helda warlike soul, and encouraged his fancies by reading awful tales ofbloodshed and lawlessness in the far West. Mindful of stage robberiesand train thieves, and of express messengers who died at their posts,he was prepared for anything; and although he had trusted to his ownstrength and bravery these many years, he carried a heavy pistol underhis front-seat cushion for better defense. This awful weapon wasfamiliar to all his regular passengers, and was usually shown tostrangers by the time two of the seven miles of Mr. Briley's route hadbeen passed. The pistol was not loaded. Nobody (at least not Mr.Briley himself) doubted that the mere sight of such a weapon wouldturn the boldest adventurer aside.Protected by such a man and such a piece of armament, one gray Fridaymorning in the edge of winter, Mrs. Fanny Tobin was traveling fromSanscrit Pond to North Kilby. She was an elderly and feeble-lookingwoman, but with a shrewd twinkle in her eyes, and she felt veryanxious about her numerous pieces of baggage and her own personalsafety. She was enveloped in many shawls and smaller wrappings, butthey were not securely fastened, and kept getting undone and flyingloose, so that the bitter December cold seemed to be picking a locknow and then, and creeping in to steal away the little warmth she had.Mr. Briley was cold, too, and could only cheer himself by rememberingthe valor of those pony-express drivers of the pre-railroad days, whohad to cross the Rocky Mountains on the great California route. Hespoke at length of their perils to the suffering passenger, who feltnone the warmer, and at last gave a groan of weariness."How fur did you say 't was now?""I do' know's I said, Mis' Tobin," answered the driver, with a frostylaugh. "You see them big pines, and the side of a barn just this way,with them yellow circus bills? That's my three-mile mark.""Be we got four more to make? Oh, my laws!" mourned Mrs. Tobin. "Urgethe beast, can't ye, Jeff'son? I ain't used to bein' out in such bleakweather. Seems if I couldn't git my breath. I'm all pinched up andwigglin' with shivers now. 'T ain't no use lettin' the hoss gostep-a-ty-step, this fashion.""Landy me!" exclaimed the affronted driver. "I don't see why folksexpects me to race with the cars. Everybody that gits in wants me torun the hoss to death on the road. I make a good everage o' time, andthat's all I can do. Ef you was to go back an' forth every day butSabbath fur eighteen years, you'd want to ease it all you could, andlet those thrash the spokes out o' their wheels that wanted to. NorthKilby, Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays; Sanscrit Pond, Tuesdays,Thu'sdays, an' Saturdays. Me an' the beast's done it eighteen yearstogether, and the creatur' warn't, so to say, young when we begun it,nor I neither. I re'lly didn't know's she'd hold out till this time.There, git up, will ye, old mar'!" as the beast of burden stoppedshort in the road.There was a story that Jefferson gave this faithful creature a restthree times a mile, and took four hours for the journey by himself,and longer whenever he had a passenger. But in pleasant weather theroad was delightful, and full of people who drove their ownconveyances, and liked to stop and talk. There were not many farms,and the third growth of white pines made a pleasant shade, thoughJefferson liked to say that when he began to carry the mail his waylay through an open country of stumps and sparse underbrush, where thewhite pines nowadays completely arched the road.They had passed the barn with circus posters, and felt colder thanever when they caught sight of the weather-beaten acrobats in theirtights."My gorry!" exclaimed Widow Tobin, "them pore creatur's looks ascheerless as little birch-trees in snow-time. I hope they dresses 'emwarmer this time o' year. Now, there! look at that one jumpin' throughthe little hoop, will ye?""He couldn't git himself through there with two pair o' pants on,"answered Mr. Briley. "I expect they must have to keep limber as eels.I used to think, when I was a boy, that 'twas the only thing I couldever be reconciled to do for a livin'. I set out to run away an'follow a rovin' showman once, but mother needed me to home. Therewarn't nobody but me an' the little gals.""You ain't the only one that's be'n disapp'inted o' their heart'sdesire," said Mrs. Tobin sadly. "'T warn't so that I could be sparedfrom home to learn the dressmaker's trade.""'T would a come handy later on, I declare," answered the sympatheticdriver, "bein' 's you went an' had such a passel o' gals to clothe an'feed. There, them that's livin' is all well off now, but it must ha'been some inconvenient for ye when they was small.""Yes, Mr. Briley, but then I've had my mercies, too," said the widowsomewhat grudgingly. "I take it master hard now, though, havin' togive up my own home and live round from place to place, if they be myown child'en. There was Ad'line and Susan Ellen fussin' an' bickerin'yesterday about who'd got to have me next; and, Lord be thanked, theyboth wanted me right off but I hated to hear 'em talkin' of it over.I'd rather live to home, and do for myself.""I've got consider'ble used to boardin'," said Jefferson, "sence ma'amdied, but it made me ache 'long at the fust on 't, I tell ye. Bein' onthe road's I be, I couldn't do no ways at keepin' house. I should wantto keep right there and see to things.""Course you would," replied Mrs. Tobin, with a sudden inspiration ofopportunity which sent a welcome glow all over her. "Course you would,Jeff'son,"--she leaned toward the front seat; "that is to say, onlessyou had jest the right one to do it for ye."And Jefferson felt a strange glow also, and a sense of unexpectedinterest and enjoyment."See here, Sister Tobin," he exclaimed with enthusiasm. "Why can't yetake the trouble to shift seats, and come front here long o' me? Wecould put one buff'lo top o' the other,--they're both wearin'thin,--and set close, and I do' know but we sh'd be more protectedag'inst the weather.""Well, I couldn't be no colder if I was froze to death," answered thewidow, with an amiable simper. "Don't ye let me delay you, nor put youout, Mr. Briley. I don't know's I'd set forth to-day if I'd known 'twas so cold; but I had all my bundles done up, and I ain't one thatputs my hand to the plough an' looks back, 'cordin' to Scriptur'.""You wouldn't wanted me to ride all them seven miles alone?" asked thegallant Briley sentimentally, as he lifted her down, and helped her upagain to the front seat. She was a few years older than he, but theyhad been schoolmates, and Mrs. Tobin's youthful freshness was suddenlyrevived to his mind's eye. She had a little farm; there was nobodyleft at home now but herself, and so she had broken up housekeepingfor the winter. Jefferson himself had savings of no mean amount.They tucked themselves in, and felt better for the change, but therewas a sudden awkwardness between them; they had not had time toprepare for an unexpected crisis."They say Elder Bickers, over to East Sanscrit, 's been and gotmarried again to a gal that's four year younger than his oldestdaughter," proclaimed Mrs. Tobin presently. "Seems to me 't was fool'sbusiness.""I view it so," said the stage-driver. "There's goin' to be a mildopen winter for that fam'ly.""What a joker you be for a man that's had so much responsibility!"smiled Mrs. Tobin, after they had done laughing. "Ain't you never'fraid, carryin' mail matter and such valuable stuff, that you'll beset on an' robbed, 'specially by night?"Jefferson braced his feet against the dasher under the worn buffaloskin. "It is kind o' scary, or would be for some folks, but I'd liketo see anybody get the better o' me. I go armed, and I don't care whoknows it. Some o' them drover men that comes from Canady looks as ifthey didn't care what they did, but I look 'em right in the eye everytime.""Men folks is brave by natur'," said the widow admiringly. "You knowhow Tobin would let his fist right out at anybody that undertook tosass him. Town-meetin' days, if he got disappointed about the waythings went, he'd lay 'em out in win'rows; and ef he hadn't been achurch-member he'd been a real fightin' character. I was always 'fraidto have him roused, for all he was so willin' and meechin' to home,and set round clever as anybody. My Susan Ellen used to boss himsame's the kitten, when she was four year old.""I've got a kind of a sideways cant to my nose, that Tobin give mewhen we was to school. I don't know's you ever noticed it," said Mr.Briley. "We was scufflin', as lads will. I never bore him no kind of agrudge. I pitied ye, when he was taken away. I re'lly did, now, Fanny.I liked Tobin first-rate, and I liked you. I used to say you was thehan'somest girl to school.""Lemme see your nose. 'Tis all straight, for what I know," said thewidow gently, as with a trace of coyness she gave a hasty glance. "Idon't know but what 'tis warped a little, but nothin' to speak of.You've got real nice features, like your marm's folks."It was becoming a sentimental occasion, and Jefferson Briley felt thathe was in for something more than he had bargained. He hurried thefaltering sorrel horse, and began to talk of the weather. It certainlydid look like snow, and he was tired of bumping over the frozen road."I shouldn't wonder if I hired a hand here another year, and went offout West myself to see the country.""Why, how you talk!" answered the widow."Yes'm," pursued Jefferson. "'Tis tamer here than I like, and I wastellin' 'em yesterday I've got to know this road most too well. I'dlike to go out an' ride in the mountains with some o' them greatclipper coaches, where the driver don't know one minute but he'll beshot dead the next. They carry an awful sight o' gold down from themines, I expect.""I should be scairt to death," said Mrs. Tobin. "What creatur's menfolks be to like such things! Well, I do declare.""Yes," explained the mild little man. "There's sights of desp'radoesmakes a han'some livin' out o' followin' them coaches, an' stoppin'an' robbin' 'em clean to the bone. Your money or your life!" and heflourished his stub of a whip over the sorrel mare."Landy me! you make me run all of a cold creep. Do tell somethin'heartenin', this cold day. I shall dream bad dreams all night.""They put on black crape over their heads," said the drivermysteriously. "Nobody knows who most on 'em be, and like as not someo' them fellows come o' good families. They've got so they stop thecars, and go right through 'em bold as brass. I could make your hairstand on end, Mis' Tobin,--I could so!""I hope none on 'em'll git round our way, I'm sure," said Fanny Tobin."I don't want to see none on 'em in their crape bunnits comin' afterme.""I ain't goin' to let nobody touch a hair o' your head," and Mr.Briley moved a little nearer, and tucked in the buffaloes again."I feel considerable warm to what I did," observed the widow by way ofreward."There, I used to have my fears," Mr. Briley resumed, with an inwardfeeling that he never would get to North Kilby depot a single man."But you see I hadn't nobody but myself to think of. I've got cousins,as you know, but nothin' nearer, and what I've laid up would soon beparted out; and--well, I suppose some folks would think o' me ifanything was to happen."Mrs. Tobin was holding her cloud over her face,--the wind was sharp onthat bit of open road,--but she gave an encouraging sound, between agroan and a chirp."'T wouldn't be like nothin' to me not to see you drivin' by," shesaid, after a minute. "I shouldn't know the days o' the week. I saysto Susan Ellen last week I was sure 'twas Friday, and she said no,'twas Thursday; but next minute you druv by and headin' toward NorthKilby, so we found I was right.""I've got to be a featur' of the landscape," said Mr. Brileyplaintively. "This kind o' weather the old mare and me, we wish we wasdone with it, and could settle down kind o' comfortable. I've beenlookin' this good while, as I drove the road, and I've picked me out apiece o' land two or three times. But I can't abide the thought o'buildin',--'twould plague me to death; and both Sister Peak to NorthKilby and Mis' Deacon Ash to the Pond, they vie with one another to dowell by me, fear I'll like the other stoppin'-place best.""I shouldn't covet livin' long o' neither one o' them women,"responded the passenger with some spirit. "I see some o' Mis' Peak'scookin' to a farmers' supper once, when I was visitin' Susan Ellen'sfolks, an' I says 'Deliver me from sech pale-complected baked beans asthem!' and she give a kind of a quack. She was settin' jest at my lefthand, and couldn't help hearin' of me. I wouldn't have spoken if I hadknown, but she needn't have let on they was hers an' make everythingunpleasant. 'I guess them beans taste just as well as other folks','says she, and she wouldn't never speak to me afterward.""Do' know's I blame her," ventured Mr. Briley. "Women folks isdreadful pudjicky about their cookin'. I've always heard you was oneo' the best o' cooks, Mis' Tobin. I know them doughnuts an' thingsyou've give me in times past, when I was drivin' by. Wish I had someon 'em now. I never let on, but Mis' Ash's cookin's the best by a longchalk. Mis' Peak's handy about some things, and looks after mendin' ofme up.""It doos seem as if a man o' your years and your quiet make ought tohave a home you could call your own," suggested the passenger. "I kindof hate to think o' your bangein' here and boardin' there, and one oldwoman mendin', and the other settin' ye down to meals that like's notdon't agree with ye.""Lor', now, Mis' Tobin, le's not fuss round no longer," said Mr.Briley impatiently. "You know you covet me same's I do you.""I don't nuther. Don't you go an' say fo'lish things you can't standto.""I've been tryin' to git a chance to put in a word with you eversence--Well, I expected you'd want to get your feelin's kind o'calloused after losin' Tobin.""There's nobody can fill his place," said the widow."I do' know but I can fight for ye town-meetin' days, on a pinch,"urged Jefferson boldly."I never see the beat o' you men fur conceit," and Mrs. Tobin laughed."I ain't goin' to bother with ye, gone half the time as you be, an'carryin' on with your Mis' Peaks and Mis' Ashes. I dare say you'vepromised yourself to both on 'em twenty times.""I hope to gracious if I ever breathed a word to none on 'em!"protested the lover. "'T ain't for lack o' opportunities set afore me,nuther;" and then Mr. Briley craftily kept silence, as if he had madea fair proposal, and expected a definite reply.The lady of his choice was, as she might have expressed it, much beatabout. As she soberly thought, she was getting along in years, andmust put up with Jefferson all the rest of the time. It was not likelyshe would ever have the chance of choosing again, though she was onewho liked variety.Jefferson wasn't much to look at, but he was pleasant and appearedboyish and young-feeling. "I do' know's I should do better," she saidunconsciously and half aloud. "Well, yes, Jefferson, seein' it's you.But we're both on us kind of old to change our situation." Fanny Tobingave a gentle sigh."Hooray!" said Jefferson. "I was scairt you meant to keep me sufferin'here a half an hour. I declare, I'm more pleased than I calc'lated on.An' I expected till lately to die a single man!""'Twould re'lly have been a shame; 'tain't natur'," said Mrs. Tobin,with confidence. "I don't see how you held out so long with bein'solitary.""I'll hire a hand to drive for me, and we'll have a good comfortablewinter, me an' you an' the old sorrel. I've been promisin' of her arest this good while.""Better keep her a steppin'," urged thrifty Mrs. Fanny. "She'llstiffen up master, an' disapp'int ye, come spring.""You'll have me, now, won't ye, sartin?" pleaded Jefferson, to makesure. "You ain't one o' them that plays with a man's feelin's. Sayright out you'll have me.""I s'pose I shall have to," said Mrs. Tobin somewhat mournfully. "Ifeel for Mis' Peak an' Mis' Ash, pore creatur's. I expect they'll behardshipped. They've always been hard-worked, an' may have kind o'looked forward to a little ease. But one on 'em would be leftlamentin', anyhow," and she gave a girlish laugh. An air of victoryanimated the frame of Mrs. Tobin. She felt but twenty-five years ofage. In that moment she made plans for cutting her Briley's hair, andmaking him look smartened-up and ambitious. Then she wished that sheknew for certain how much money he had in the bank; not that it wouldmake any difference now. "He needn't bluster none before me," shethought gayly. "He's harmless as a fly.""Who'd have thought we'd done such a piece of engineerin', when westarted out?" inquired the dear one of Mr. Briley's heart, as hetenderly helped her to alight at Susan Ellen's door."Both on us, jest the least grain," answered the lover. "Gimme a goodsmack, now, you clever creatur';" and so they parted. Mr. Bailey hadbeen taken on the road in spite of his pistol.
A Winter Courtship was featured as
TheShort Story of the Day on
Tue, Jan 31, 2023
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