My Unwilling Neighbor

by Frank Stockton

I was about twenty-five years old when I began life as the ownerof a vineyard in western Virginia. I bought a large tract ofland, the greater part of which lay upon the sloping side of oneof the foot-hills of the Blue Ridge, the exposure being that mostfavorable to the growth of the vine. I am an enthusiastic loverof the country and of country life, and believed that I shouldderive more pleasure as well as profit from the culture of myfar-stretching vineyard than I would from ordinary farmoperations.I built myself a good house of moderate size upon a littleplateau on the higher part of my estate. Sitting in my porch,smoking my pipe after the labors of the day, I could look downover my vineyard into a beautiful valley, with here and there alittle curling smoke arising from some of the few dwellings whichwere scattered about among the groves and spreading fields, andabove this beauty I could imagine all my hillside clothed ingreen and purple.My family consisted of myself alone. It is true that Iexpected some day that there would be others in my house besidesmyself, but I was not ready for this yet.During the summer I found it very pleasant to live bymyself. It was a novelty, and I could arrange and manageeverything in my own fashion, which was a pleasure I had notenjoyed when I lived in my father's house. But when winter cameI found it very lonely. Even my servants lived in a cabin atsome little distance, and there were many dark and stormyevenings when the company even of a bore would have been welcometo me. Sometimes I walked over to the town and visited myfriends there, but this was not feasible on stormy nights, andthe winter seemed to me a very long one.But spring came, outdoor operations began, and for a fewweeks I felt again that I was all-sufficient for my own pleasureand comfort. Then came a change. One of those seasons of badand stormy weather which so frequently follow an early springsettled down upon my spirits and my hillside. It rained, it wascold, fierce winds blew, and I became more anxious for somebodyto talk to than I had been at any time during the winter.One night, when a very bad storm was raging, I went to bedearly, and as I lay awake I revolved in my mind a scheme of whichI had frequently thought before. I would build a neat littlehouse on my grounds, not very far away from my house, but not toonear, and I would ask Jack Brandiger to come there and live.Jack was a friend of mine who was reading law in the town, and itseemed to me that it would be much more pleasant, and even moreprofitable, to read law on a pretty hillside overlooking acharming valley, with woods and mountains behind and above him,where he could ramble to his heart's content.I had thought of asking Jack to come and live with me,but this idea I soon dismissed. I am a very particular person,and Jack was not. He left his pipes about in all sorts ofplaces--sometimes when they were still lighted. When he came tosee me he was quite as likely to put his hat over the inkstand asto put it anywhere else. But if Jack lived at a little distance,and we could go backward and forward to see each other wheneverwe pleased, that would be quite another thing. He could do as hepleased in his own house, and I could do as I pleased in mine,and we might have many pleasant evenings together. This was acheering idea, and I was planning how we might arrange with thenegro woman who managed my household affairs to attend also tothose of Jack when I fell asleep.I did not sleep long before I was awakened by the increasedviolence of the storm. My house shook with the fury of the wind.The rain seemed to be pouring on its roof and northern side as ifthere were a waterfall above us, and every now and then I couldhear a shower of hailstones rattling against the shutters. Mybedroom was one of the rooms on the lower floor, and even there Icould hear the pounding of the deluge and the hailstones upon theroof.All this was very doleful, and had a tendency to depress thespirits of a man awake and alone in a good-sized house. But Ishook off this depression. It was, not agreeable to be up hereby myself in such a terrible storm, but there was nothing to beafraid of, as my house was new and very strongly built, beingconstructed of logs, weather-boarded outside and ceiled within.It would require a hurricane to blow off the roof, and I believedmy shutters to be hail-proof. So, as there was no reason tostay awake, I turned over and went to sleep.I do not know how long it was before I was awakened again,this time not by the noise of the storm, but by a curiousmovement of my bedstead. I had once felt the slight shock of anearthquake, and it seemed to me that this must be something ofthe kind. Certainly my bed moved under me. I sat up. The roomwas pitchy dark. In a moment I felt another movement, but thistime it did not seem to me to resemble an earthquake shock. Suchmotion, I think, is generally in horizontal directions, whilethat which I felt was more like the movement of a ship upon thewater. The storm was at its height; the wind raged and roared,and the rain seemed to be pouring down as heavily as ever.I was about to get up and light the lamp, for even thefaintest candle-flame would be some sort of company at such agrewsome moment, when my bedstead gave another movement, moreshiplike than before. It actually lurched forward as if it weredescending into the trough of the sea, but, unlike a ship, it didnot rise again, but remained in such a slanting position that Ibegan to slide down toward the foot. I believe that if it hadnot been a bedstead provided with a footboard, I should haveslipped out upon the floor.I did not jump out of bed. I did not do anything. I wastrying to think, to understand the situation, to find out whetherI was asleep or awake, when I became aware of noises in the roomand all over the house which even through the din of the stormmade themselves noticed by their peculiarity. Tables, everythingin the room, seemed to be grating and grinding on the floor,and in a moment there was a crash. I knew what that meant; mylamp had slipped off the table. Any doubt on that point wouldhave been dispelled by the smell of kerosene which soon filledthe air of the room.The motion of the bed, which I now believe must have been themotion of the whole house, still continued; but the gratingnoises in the room gradually ceased, from which I inferred thatthe furniture had brought up against the front wall of the room.It now was impossible for me to get up and strike a light,for to do so with kerosene oil all over the floor and its vapordiffused through the room would probably result in setting thehouse on fire. So I must stay in darkness and wait. I do notthink I was very much frightened--I was so astonished that therewas no room in my mind for fear. In fact, all my mental energieswere occupied in trying to find out what had happened. Itrequired, however, only a few more minutes of reflection, and afew more minutes of the grating, bumping, trembling of my house,to enable me to make up my mind what was happening. My house wassliding downhill!The wind must have blown the building from its foundations,and upon the slippery surface of the hillside, probably lashedinto liquid mud by the pouring rain, it was making its way downtoward the valley! In a flash my mind's eye ran over the wholesurface of the country beneath me as far as I knew it. I wasalmost positive that there was no precipice, no terrible chasminto which my house might fall. There was nothing but slopinghillside, and beneath that a wide stretch of fields.Now there was a new and sudden noise of heavy objects fallingupon the roof, and I knew what that meant: my chimney had beenwrenched from its foundations, and the upper part of it had nowtoppled over. I could hear, through the storm, the bricksbanging and sliding upon the slanting roof. Continuous sounds ofcracking and snapping came to me through the closed frontwindows, and these were caused, I supposed, by the destruction ofthe stakes of my vines as the heavy house moved over them.Of course, when I thoroughly understood the state of thecase, my first impulse was to spring out of bed, and, as quicklyas possible, to get out of that thumping and sliding house. ButI restrained myself. The floor might be covered with brokenglass, I might not be able to find my clothes in the darkness andin the jumble of furniture at the end of the room, and even if Icould dress myself, it would be folly to jump out in the midst ofthat raging storm into a probable mass of wreckage which I couldnot see. It would be far better to remain dry and warm under myroof. There was no reason whatever to suppose that the housewould go to pieces, or that it would turn over. It must stopsome time or other, and, until it did so, I would be safer in mybed than anywhere else. Therefore in my bed I stayed.Sitting upright, with my feet pressed against the footboard,I listened and felt. The noises of the storm, and the crackingand the snapping and grinding before me and under me, stillcontinued, although I sometimes thought that the wind wasmoderating a little, and that the strange motion was becomingmore regular. I believed the house was moving faster thanwhen it first began its strange career, but that it was slidingover a smooth surface. Now I noticed a succession of loud cracksand snaps at the front of the house, and, from the character ofthe sounds, I concluded that my little front porch, which hadbeen acting as a cutwater at the bow of my shiplike house, hadyielded at last to the rough contact with the ground, and wouldprobably soon be torn away. This did not disturb me, for thehouse must still be firm.It was not long before I perceived that the slanting of mybed was becoming less and less, and also I was quite sure thatthe house was moving more slowly. Then the crackings andsnappings before my front wall ceased altogether. The bedresumed its ordinary horizontal position, and although I did notknow at what moment the house had ceased sliding and had come toa standstill, I was sure that it had done so. It was now restingupon a level surface. The room was still perfectly dark, and thestorm continued. It was useless for me to get up until daylightcame,--I could not see what had happened,--so I lay back upon mypillow and tried to imagine upon what level portion of my farm Ihad stranded. While doing this I fell asleep.When I woke, a little light was stealing into the roomthrough the blinds of my shutters. I quickly slipped out of bed,opened a window, and looked out. Day was just breaking, the rainand wind had ceased, and I could discern objects. But it seemedas if I needed some light in my brain to enable me to comprehendwhat I saw. My eyes fell upon nothing familiar.I did not stop to investigate, however, from my window.I found my clothes huddled together with the furniture at thefront end of the room, and as soon as I was dressed I went intothe hall and then to my front door. I quickly jerked this openand was about to step outside when, suddenly, I stopped. I waspositive that my front porch had been destroyed. But there I sawa porch a little lower than mine and a great deal wider, and onthe other side of it, not more than eight feet from me, was awindow--the window of a house, and on the other side of thewindow was a face--the face of a young girl! As I stood staringin blank amazement at the house which presented itself at myfront door, the face at the window disappeared, and I was left tocontemplate the scene by myself. I ran to my back door and threwit open. There I saw, stretching up the fields and far up thehillside, the wide path which my house had made as it came downfrom its elevated position to the valley beneath, where it hadended its onward career by stopping up against another house. AsI looked from the back porch I saw that the ground stillcontinued to slope, so that if my house had not found in its pathanother building, it would probably have proceeded somewhatfarther on its course. It was lighter, and I saw bushes andfences and outbuildings--I was in a back yard.Almost breathless with amazement and consternation, I ranagain to the front door. When I reached it I found a young womanstanding on the porch of the house before me. I was about to saysomething--I know not what--when she put her finger on her lipsand stepped forward."Please don't speak loudly," she said. "I am afraid it willfrighten mother. She is asleep yet. I suppose you and yourhouse have been sliding downhill?""That is what has happened," said I. "But I cannotunderstand it. It seems to me the most amazing thing that evertook place on the face of the earth.""It is very queer," said she, "but hurricanes do blow awayhouses, and that must have been a hurricane we had last night,for the wind was strong enough to loosen any house. I have oftenwondered if that house would ever slide downhill.""My house?""Yes," she said. "Soon after it was built I began to thinkwhat a nice clean sweep it could make from the place where itseemed to be stuck to the side of the mountain, right down hereinto the valley."I could not talk with a girl like this; at least, I could notmeet her on her own conversational grounds. I was so agitatedmyself that it seemed unnatural that any one to whom I shouldspeak should not also be agitated."Who are you?" I asked rather brusquely. "At least, to whomdoes this house belong?""This is my mother's house," said she. "My mother is Mrs.Carson. We happen just now to be living here by ourselves, so Icannot call on any man to help you do anything. My brother hasalways lived with us, but last week he went away.""You don't seem to be a bit astonished at what has happened,"said I.She was rather a pretty girl, of a cheerful disposition, Ishould say, for several times she had smiled as she spoke."Oh, I am astonished," she answered; "or, at least, Iwas. But I have had time enough to get over some of it. It wasat least an hour ago when I was awakened by hearing somethingcrack in the yard. I went to a window and looked out, and couldjust barely see that something like a big building had grown upduring the night. Then I watched it, and watched it, until Imade out it was a whole house; and after that it was not longbefore I guessed what had happened. It seemed a simpler thing tome, you know, than it did to you, because I had often thoughtabout it, and probably you never had.""You are right there," said I, earnestly. "It would havebeen impossible for me to imagine such a thing.""At first I thought there was nobody in the house," said she,"but when I heard some one moving about, I came down to tellwhoever had arrived not to make a noise. I see," she added, withanother of her smiles, "that you think I am a very strange personnot to be more flurried by what has happened. But really Icannot think of anything else just now, except what mother willsay and do when she comes down and finds you and your house hereat the back door. I am very sure she will not like it.""Like it!" I exclaimed. "Who on earth could like it?""Please speak more gently," she said. "Mother is always alittle irritable when her night's rest has been broken, and Iwould not like to have her wakened up suddenly now. But really,Mr. Warren, I haven't the least idea in the world how she willtake this thing. I must go in and be with her when she wakes, sothat I can explain just what has happened.""One moment," I said. "You know my name.""Of course I know your name," she answered. "Could thathouse be up there on the hillside for more than a year without myknowing who lived in it?" With this she went indoors.I could not help smiling when I thought of the young ladyregretting that there was no man in the house who might help medo something. What could anybody do in a case like this? Iturned and went into my house. I entered the various rooms onthe lower floor, and saw no signs of any particular damage,except that everything movable in each room was jumbled togetheragainst the front wall. But when I looked out of the back door Ifound that the porch there was a good deal wrecked, which I hadnot noticed before.I went up-stairs, and found everything very much as it wasbelow. Nothing seemed to have been injured except the chimneyand the porches. I thanked my stars that I had used hard woodinstead of mortar for the ceilings of my rooms.I was about to go into my bedroom, when I heard a womanscream, and of course I hurried to the front. There on the backporch of her house stood Mrs. Carson. She was a woman of middleage, and, as I glanced at her, I saw where her daughter got hergood looks. But the placidity and cheerfulness of the youngerface were entirely wanting in the mother. Her eyes sparkled, hercheeks were red, her mouth was partly opened, and it seemed to methat I could almost see that her breath was hot."Is this your house?" she cried, the moment her eyes fellupon me. "And what is it doing here?" I did not immediatelyanswer, I looked at the angry woman, and behind her I saw,through the open door, the daughter crossing the hallway. It wasplain that she had decided to let me have it out with her motherwithout interference. As briefly and as clearly as I could, Iexplained what had happened."What is all that to me?" she screamed. "It doesn't matterto me how your house got here. There have been storms ever sincethe beginning of the world, and I never heard of any of themtaking a house into a person's back yard. You ought not to havebuilt your house where any such thing could happen. But all thisis nothing to me. I don't understand now how your house did gethere, and I don't want to understand it. All I want is for youto take it away.""I will do that, madam, just as soon as I can. You may bevery sure I will do that. But--""Can you do it now?" she asked. "Can you do it to-day? Idon't want a minute lost. I have not been outside to see whatdamage has been done, but the first thing to do is to take yourhouse away.""I am going to the town now, madam, to summon assistance."Mrs. Carson made no answer, but she turned and walked to theend of her porch. There she suddenly gave a scream which quicklybrought her daughter from the house. "Kitty! Kitty!" cried hermother. "Do you know what he has done? He has gone right overmy round flower-garden. His house is sitting on it this minute!""But he could not help it, mother," said Kitty."Help it!" exclaimed Mrs. Carson. "I didn't expect him tohelp it. What I want--" Suddenly she stopped. Her eyes flashedbrighter, her mouth opened wider, and she became more andmore excited as she noticed the absence of the sheds, fences, orvegetable-beds which had found themselves in the course of myall-destroying dwelling.It was now well on in the morning, and some of the neighborshad become aware of the strange disaster which had happened tome, although if they had heard the news from Mrs. Carson theymight have supposed that it was a disaster which had happenedonly to her. As they gazed at the two houses so closely jammedtogether, all of them wondered, some of them even laughed, butnot one offered a suggestion which afforded satisfaction to Mrs.Carson or myself. The general opinion was that, now my house wasthere, it would have to stay there, for there were not enoughhorses in the State to pull it back up that mountainside. To besure, it might possibly be drawn off sidewise. But whether itwas moved one way or the other, a lot of Mrs. Carson's treeswould have to be cut down to let it pass."Which shall never happen!" cried that good lady. "Ifnothing else can be done, it must be taken apart and hauled offin carts. But no matter how it is managed, it must be moved, andthat immediately." Miss Carson now prevailed upon her mother togo into the house, and I stayed and talked to the men and a fewwomen who had gathered outside.When they had said all they had to say, and seen all therewas to see, these people went home to their breakfasts. Ientered my house, but not by the front door, for to do that Iwould have been obliged to trespass upon Mrs. Carson's backporch. I got my hat, and was about to start for the town, when Iheard my name called. Turning into the hall, I saw MissCarson, who was standing at my front door."Mr. Warren," said she, "you haven't any way of gettingbreakfast, have you?""Oh, no," said I. "My servants are up there in their cabin,and I suppose they are too much scared to come down. But I amgoing to town to see what can be done about my house, and willget my breakfast there.""It's a long way to go without anything to eat," she said,"and we can give you some breakfast. But I want to ask yousomething. I am in a good deal of perplexity. Our two servantsare out at the front of the house, but they positively refuse tocome in; they are afraid that your house may begin sliding againand crush them all, so, I shall have to get breakfast. But whatbothers me is trying to find our well. I have been outside, andcan see no signs of it.""Where was your well?" I gasped."It ought to be somewhere near the back of your house," shesaid. "May I go through your hall and look out?""Of course you may," I cried, and I preceded her to my backdoor."Now, it seems to me," she said, after surveying the scene ofdesolation immediately before, and looking from side to sidetoward objects which had remained untouched, "that your house haspassed directly over our well, and must have carried away thelittle shed and the pump and everything above ground. I shouldnot wonder a bit," she continued slowly, "if it is under yourporch."I jumped to the ground, for the steps were shattered, and beganto search for the well, and it was not long before I discoveredits round dark opening, which was, as Miss Carson had imagined,under one end of my porch."What can we do?" she asked. "We can't have breakfast or getalong at all without water." It was a terribly depressing thingto me to think that I, or rather my house, had given these peopleso much trouble. But I speedily, assured Miss Carson that if shecould find a bucket and a rope which I could lower into the well,I would provide her with water.She went into her house to see what she could find, and I toreaway the broken planks of the porch, so that I could get to thewell. And then, when she came with a tin pail and a clothes-line, I went to work to haul up water and carry it to her backdoor."I don't want mother to find out what has happened to thewell," she said, "for she has enough on her mind already."Mrs. Carson was a woman with some good points in hercharacter. After a time she called to me herself, and told me tocome in to breakfast. But during the meal she talked veryearnestly to me about the amazing trespass I had committed, andabout the means which should be taken to repair the damages myhouse had done to her property. I was as optimistic as I couldbe, and the young lady spoke very cheerfully and hopefully aboutthe affair, so that we were beginning to get along somewhatpleasantly, when, suddenly, Mrs. Carson sprang to her feet."Heavens and earth!" she cried, "this house is moving!"She was not mistaken. I had felt beneath my feet a suddensharp shock--not severe, but unmistakable. I rememberedthat both houses stood upon slightly sloping ground. My bloodturned cold, my heart stood still; even Miss Carson was pale.When we had rushed out of doors to see what had happened, orwhat was going to happen, I soon found that we had beenneedlessly frightened. Some of the broken timbers on which myhouse had been partially resting had given way, and the frontpart of the building had slightly descended, jarring as it did sothe other house against which it rested. I endeavored to proveto Mrs. Carson that the result was encouraging rather thanotherwise, for my house was now more firmly settled than it hadbeen. But she did not value the opinion of a man who did notknow enough to put his house in a place where it would be likelyto stay, and she could eat no more breakfast, and was even afraidto stay under her own roof until experienced mechanics had beensummoned to look into the state of affairs.I hurried away to the town, and it was not long beforeseveral carpenters and masons were on the spot. After a thoroughexamination, they assured Mrs. Carson that there was no danger,that my house would do no farther damage to her premises, but, tomake things certain, they would bring some heavy beams and bracethe front of my house against her cellar wall. When that shouldbe done it would be impossible for it to move any farther."But I don't want it braced!" cried Mrs. Carson. "I want ittaken away. I want it out of my back yard!"The master carpenter was a man of imagination and expedients."That is quite another thing, ma'am," said he. "We'll fix thisgentleman's house so that you needn't be afraid of it, and then,when the time comes to move it, there's several ways of doingthat. We might rig up a powerful windlass at the top of thehill, and perhaps get a steam-engine to turn it, and we couldfasten cables to the house and haul her back to where shebelongs.""And can you take your oaths," cried Mrs. Carson, "that thoseropes won't break, and when that house gets half-way up the hillit won't come sliding down ten times faster than it did, andcrash into me and mine and everything I own on earth? No, sir!I'll have no house hauled up a hill back of me!""Of course," said the carpenter, "it would be a great dealeasier to move it on this ground, which is almost level--""And cut down my trees to do it! No, sir!""Well, then," said he, "there is no way to do but to take itapart and haul it off.""Which would make an awful time at the back of my house whileyou were doing it!" exclaimed Mrs. Carson.I now put in a word. "There's only one thing to do that Ican see!" I exclaimed. "I will sell it to a match factory. Itis almost all wood, and it can be cut up in sections about twoinches thick, and then split into matches."Kitty smiled. "I should like to see them," she said, "takingaway the little sticks in wheelbarrows!""There is no need of trifling on the subject," said Mrs.Carson. "I have had a great deal to bear, and I must bear it nolonger than is necessary. I have just found out that in order toget water out of my own well, I must go to the back porch ofa stranger. Such things cannot be endured. If my son Georgewere here, he would tell me what I ought to do. I shall write tohim, and see what he advises. I do not mind waiting a littlebit, now that I know that you can fix Mr. Warren's house so thatit won't move any farther."Thus the matter was left. My house was braced thatafternoon, and toward evening I started to go to a hotel in thetown to spend the night."No, sir!" said Mrs. Carson. "Do you suppose that I am goingto stay here all night with a great empty house jammed up againstme, and everybody knowing that it is empty? It will be the sameas having thieves in my own house to have them in yours. Youhave come down here in your property, and you can stay in it andtake care of it!""I don't object to that in the least," I said. "My two womenare here, and I can tell them to attend to my meals. I haven'tany chimney, but I suppose they can make a fire some way orother.""No, sir!" said Mrs. Carson. "I am not going to have anystrange servants on my place. I have just been able to prevailupon my own women to go into the house, and I don't want any moretrouble. I have had enough already!""But, my dear madam," said I, "you don't want me to go to thetown, and you won't allow me to have any cooking done here. Whatam I to do?""Well," she said, "you can eat with us. It may be two orthree days before I can hear from my son George, and in themeantime you can lodge in your own house and I will take you toboard. That is the best way I can see of managing thething. But I am very sure I am not going to be left here alonein the dreadful predicament in which you have put me."We had scarcely finished supper when Jack Brandiger came tosee me. He laughed a good deal a about my sudden change of base,but thought, on the whole, my house had made a very successfulmove. It must be more pleasant in the valley than up on thatwindy hill. Jack was very much interested in everything, andwhen Mrs. Carson and her daughter appeared, as we were walkingabout viewing the scene, I felt myself obliged to introduce him."I like those ladies," said he to me, afterwards. "I thinkyou have chosen very agreeable neighbors.""How do you know you like them?" said I. "You had scarcelyanything to say to Mrs. Carson.""No, to be sure," said he. "But I expect I should like her.By the way, do you know how you used to talk to me about comingand living somewhere near you? How would you like me to take oneof your rooms now? I might cheer you up.""No," said I, firmly. "That cannot be done. As things arenow, I have as much as I can do to get along here by myself."Mrs. Carson did not hear from her son for nearly a week, andthen he wrote that he found it almost impossible to give her anyadvice. He thought it was a very queer state of affairs. He hadnever heard of anything like it. But he would try and arrangehis business so that he could come home in a week or two and lookinto matters.As I was thus compelled to force myself upon the closeneighborhood of Mrs. Carson and her daughter, I endeavoredto make things as pleasant as possible. I brought some of my mendown out of the vineyard, and set them to repairing fences,putting the garden in order, and doing all that I could to remedythe doleful condition of things which I had unwillingly broughtinto the back yard of this quiet family. I rigged up a pump onmy back porch by which the water of the well could beconveniently obtained, and in every way endeavored to repairdamages.But Mrs. Carson never ceased to talk about the unparalleleddisaster which had come upon her, and she must have had a greatdeal of correspondence with her son George, because she gave mefrequent messages from him. He could not come on to look intothe state of affairs, but he seemed to be giving it a great dealof thought and attention.Spring weather had come again, and it was very pleasant tohelp the Carson ladies get their flower-garden in order--atleast, as much as was left of it, for my house was resting uponsome of the most important beds. As I was obliged to give up allpresent idea of doing anything in the way of getting my residenceout of a place where it had no business to be, because Mrs.Carson would not consent to any plan which had been suggested, Ifelt that I was offering some little compensation in beautifyingwhat seemed to be, at that time, my own grounds.My labors in regard to vines, bushes, and all that sort ofthing were generally carried on under direction of Mrs. Carson orher daughter, and as the elderly lady was a very busy housewife,the horticultural work was generally left to Miss Kitty and me.I liked Miss Kitty. She was a cheerful, whole-souled person, andI sometimes thought that she was not so unwilling to have me fora neighbor as the rest of the family seemed to be; for if I wereto judge the disposition of her brother George from what hermother told me about his letters, both he and Mrs. Carson must bemaking a great many plans to get me off the premises.Nearly a month had now passed since my house and I made thatremarkable morning call upon Mrs. Carson. I was becomingaccustomed to my present mode of living, and, so far as I wasconcerned, it satisfied me very well. I certainly lived a greatdeal better than when I was depending upon my old negro cook.Miss Kitty seemed to be satisfied with things as they were, andso, in some respects, did her mother. But the latter neverceased to give me extracts from some of her son George's letters,and this was always annoying and worrying to me. Evidently hewas not pleased with me as such a close neighbor to his mother,and it was astonishing how many expedients he proposed in orderto rid her of my undesirable proximity."My son George," said Mrs. Carson, one morning, "has beenwriting to me about jack-screws. He says that the greatestimprovements have been made in jack-screws.""What do you do with them, mother?" asked Miss Kitty."You lift houses with them," said she. "He says that inlarge cities they lift whole blocks of houses with them and buildstories underneath. He thinks that we can get rid of our troublehere if we use jack-screws.""But how does he propose to use them?" I asked."Oh, he has a good many plans," answered Mrs. Carson. "Hesaid that he should not wonder if jack-screws could be made largeenough to lift your house entirely over mine and set it out inthe road, where it could be carried away without interfering withanything, except, of course, vehicles which might be comingalong. But he has another plan--that is, to lift my house up andcarry it out into the field on the other side of the road, andthen your house might be carried along right over the cellaruntil it got to the road. In that way, he says, the bushes andtrees would not have to be interfered with.""I think brother George is cracked!" said Kitty.All this sort of thing worried me very much. My mind waseminently disposed toward peace and tranquillity, but who couldbe peaceful and tranquil with a prospective jack-screw under thevery base of his comfort and happiness? In fact, my house hadnever been such a happy home as it was at that time. The fact ofits unwarranted position upon other people's grounds had ceasedto trouble me.But the coming son George, with his jack-screws, did troubleme very much, and that afternoon I deliberately went into Mrs.Carson's house to look for Kitty. I knew her mother was not athome, for I had seen her go out. When Kitty appeared I asked herto come out on her back porch. "Have you thought of any new planof moving it?" she said, with a smile, as we sat down."No," said I, earnestly. "I have not, and I don't want tothink of any plan of moving it. I am tired of seeing it here, Iam tired of thinking about moving it away, and I am tired ofhearing people talk about moving it. I have not any rightto be here, and I am never allowed to forget it. What I want todo is to go entirely away, and leave everything behind me--exceptone thing.""And what is that?" asked Kitty."You," I answered.She turned a little pale and did not reply."You understand me, Kitty," I said. "There is nothing in theworld that I care for but you. What have you to say to me?"Then came back to her her little smile. "I think it would bevery foolish for us to go away," she said.It was about a quarter of an hour after this when Kittyproposed that we should go out to the front of the house; itwould look queer if any of the servants should come by and see ussitting together like that. I had forgotten that there wereother people in the world, but I went with her.We were standing on the front porch, close to each other, andI think we were holding each other's hands, when Mrs. Carson cameback. As she approached she looked at us inquiringly, plainlywishing to know why we were standing side by side before her dooras if we had some special object in so doing."Well?" said she, as she came up the steps. Of course it wasright that I should speak, and, in as few words as possible, Itold her what Kitty and I had been saying to each other. I neversaw Kitty's mother look so cheerful and so handsome as when shecame forward and kissed her daughter and shook hands with me.She seemed so perfectly satisfied that it amazed me. After alittle Kitty left us, and then Mrs. Carson asked me to sit by heron a rustic bench."Now," said she, "this will straighten out things in the verybest way. When you are married, you and Kitty can live in theback building,--for, of course, your house will now be the samething as a back building,--and you can have the second floor. Wewon't have any separate tables, because it will be a great dealnicer for you and Kitty to live with me, and it will simply beyour paying board for two persons instead of one. And you knowyou can manage your vineyard just as well from the bottom of thehill as from the top. The lower rooms of what used to be yourhouse can be made very pleasant and comfortable for all of us. Ihave been thinking about the room on the right that you hadplanned for a parlor, and it will make a lovely sitting-room forus, which is a thing we have never had, and the room on the otherside is just what will suit beautifully for a guest-chamber. Thetwo houses together, with the roof of my back porch properlyjoined to the front of your house, will make a beautiful andspacious dwelling. It was fortunate, too, that you painted yourhouse a light yellow. I have often looked at the two together,and thought what a good thing it was that one was not one colorand the other another. As to the pump, it will be very easy nowto put a pipe from what used to be your back porch to ourkitchen, so that we can get water without being obliged to carryit. Between us we can make all sorts of improvements, and sometime I will tell you of a good many that I have thought of."What used to be your house, " she continued, "can be jack-screwed up a little bit and a good foundation put under it. Ihave inquired about that. Of course it would not have beenproper to let you know that I was satisfied with the state ofthings, but I was satisfied, and there is no use of denying it.As soon as I got over my first scare after that house came downthe hill, and had seen how everything might be arranged to suitall parties, I said to myself, `What the Lord has joinedtogether, let not man put asunder,' and so, according to mybelief, the strongest kind of jack-screws could not put these twohouses asunder, any more than they could put you and Kittyasunder, now that you have agreed to take each other for eachother's own."Jack Brandiger came to call that evening, and when he hadheard what had happened he whistled a good deal. "You are afunny kind of a fellow," said he. "You go courting like a snail,with your house on your back!"I think my friend was a little discomfited. "Don't bediscouraged, Jack," said I. "You will get a good wife some ofthese days--that is, if you don't try to slide uphill to findher!"

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