Little Speck in Garnered Fruit

by O. Henry

　　

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The honeymoon was at its full. There was a flatwith the reddest of new carpets, tasselled portieresand six steins with pewter lids arranged on a ledgeabove the wainscoting of the dining-room. The won-der of it was yet upon them. Neither of them hadever seen a yellow primrose by the river's brim; but ifsuch a sight had met their eyes at that time it wouldhave seemed like - well, whatever the poet expectedthe right kind of people to see in it besides a prim-rose. The bride sat in the rocker with her feet restingupon the world. She was wrapt in rosy dreams and akimono of the same hue. She wondered what the peo-ple in Greenland and Tasmania and Beloochistanwere saying one to another about her marriage toKid McGarry. Not that it made any difference.There was no welter-weight from London to theSouthern Cross that could stand up four hours - no;four rounds - with her bridegroom. And he hadbeen hers for three weeks; and the crook of her littlefinger could sway him more than the fist of any 142-pounder in the world. Love, when it is ours, is the other name for self-abnegation and sacrifice. When it belongs to peopleacross the airshaft it means arrogance and self-con-ceit. The bride crossed her oxfords and looked thought-fully at the distemper Cupids on the ceiling. "Precious," said she, with the air of Cleopatraasking Antony for Rome done up in tissue paper anddelivered at residence, "I think I would like a peach." Kid McGarry arose and put on his coat and hat.He was serious, shaven, sentimental, and spry. "All right," said he, as coolly as though be wereonly agreeing to sign articles to fight the championof England. "I'll step down and cop one out for yousee?" "Don't be long," said the bride. "I'll be lonesomewithout my naughty boy. Get a nice, ripe one."After a series of farewells that would have befittedan imminent voyage to foreign parts, the Kid wentdown to the street. Here he not unreasonably hesitated, for the seasonwas yet early spring, and there seemed small chanceof wresting anywhere from those chill streets andstores the coveted luscious guerdon of summer'sgolden prime. At the Italian's fruit-stand on the corner bestopped and cast a contemptuous eye over the dis-play of papered oranges, highly polished apples andwan, sun-hungry bananas. "Gotta da peach?" asked the Kid in the tongue ofDante, the lover of lovers. "Ah, no, - " sighed the vender. "Not for one montcom-a da peach. Too soon. Gotta da nice-a orange.Like-a da orange?" Scornful, the Kid pursued his quest. He enteredthe all-night chop-house, cafe, and bowling-alley ofhis friend and admirer, Justus O'Callahan. TheO'Callahan was about in his institution, looking forleaks. "I want it straight," said the Kid to him. "Theold woman has got a hunch that she wants a peach.Now, if you've got a peach, Cal, get it out quick. Iwant it and others like it if you've got 'em in pluralquantities." "The house is yours," said O'Callahan. "Butthere's no peach in it. It's too soon. I don't sup-pose you could even find 'em at one of the Broadwayjoints. That's too bad. When a lady fixes hermouth for a certain kind of fruit nothing else won'tdo. It's too late now to find any of the first-classfruiterers open. But if you think the missis wouldlike some nice oranges I've just got a box of fine onesin that she might." "Much obliged, Cal. It's a peach propositionright from the ring of the gong. I'll try further." The time was nearly midnight as the Kid walkeddown the West-Side avenue. Few stores were openand such as were practically hooted at the idea of apeach. But in her moated flat the bride confidently awaitedher Persian fruit. A champion welter-weight not finda peach? - not stride triumphantly over the seasonsand the zodiac and the almanac to fetch an Amsden'sJune or a Georgia cling to his owny-own? The Kid's eye caught sight of a window that waslighted and gorgeous with nature's most entrancingcolors. The light suddenly went out. The Kidsprinted and caught the fruiterer locking his door. "Peaches?" said he, with extreme deliberation. "Well, no, Sir. Not for three or four weeks yet.I haven't any idea where you might find some. Theremay be a few in town from under the glass, but they'dbe bard to locate. Maybe at one of the more expen-sive hotels - some place where there's plenty ofmoney to waste. I've got some very fine oranges,though - from a shipload that came in to-day." The Kid lingered on the corner for a moment,and then set out briskly toward a pair of green lightsthat flanked the steps of a building down a darkside street. "Captain around anywhere?" he asked of the desksergeant of the police station. At that moment the captain came briskly forwardfrom the rear. He was in plain clothes and had abusy air. "Hello, Kid," he said to the pugilist. "Thoughtyou were bridal-touring? "Got back yesterday. I'm a solid citizen now.Think I'll take an interest in municipal doings. Howwould it suit you to get into Denver Dick's place to-night, Cap? "Past performances," said the captain, twisting hismoustache. "Denver was closed up two months ago." "Correct," said the Kid. "Rafferty chased himout of the Forty-third. He's running in your pre-cinct now, and his game's bigger than ever. I'mdown on this gambling business. I can put youagainst his game." "In my precinct?" growled the captain. "Areyou sure, Kid? I'll take it as a favor. Have yougot the entree? How is it to be done?" "Hammers," said the Kid. "They haven't gotany steel on the doors yet. You'll need ten men.No, they won't let me in the place. Denver has beentrying to do me. He thought I tipped him off for theother raid. I didn't, though. You want to hurry.I've got to get back home. The house is only threeblocks from here." Before ten minutes had sped the captain with adozen men stole with their guide into the hallway ofa dark and virtuous-looking building in which manybusinesses were conducted by day. "Third floor, rear," said the Kid, softly. "I'lllead the way." Two axemen faced the door that he pointed out tothem. "It seems all quiet," said the captain, doubtfully. "Are you sure your tip is straight?" "Cut away!" said the Kid. "It's on me if itain't." The axes crashed through the as yet unprotecteddoor. A blaze of light from within poured throughthe smashed panels. The door fell, and the raidersrang into the room with their guns handy. The big room was furnished with the gaudy mag-nificence dear to Denver Dick's western ideas. Vari-ous well-patronized games were in progress. Aboutfifty men who were in the room rushed upon the policein a grand break for personal liberty. The plain-clothes men had to do a little club-swinging. Morethan half the patrons escaped. Denver Dick had graced his game with his ownpresence that night. He led the rush that was in-tended to sweep away the smaller body of raiders,But when be saw the Kid his manner became personal.Being in the heavyweight class be cast himself joy-fully upon his slighter enemy, and they rolled downa flight of stairs in each others arms. On the land-ing they separated and arose, and then the Kid wasable to use some of his professional tactics, which hadbeen useless to him while in the excited clutch of a200-pound sporting gentleman who was about to lose$20,000 worth of paraphernalia. After vanquishing his adversary the Kid hurriedupstairs and through the gambling-room into asmaller apartment connecting by an arched doorway. Here was a long table set with choicest chinawareand silver, and lavishly furnished with food of thatexpensive and spectacular sort of which the devoteesof sport are supposed to be fond. Here again was tobe perceived the liberal and florid taste of the gen-tleman with the urban cognomenal prefix. A No. 10 patent leather shoe protruded a few ofits inches outside the tablecloth along the floor. TheKid seized this and plucked forth a black man in awhite tie and the garb of a servitor. "Get up!" commanded the Kid. "Are you incharge of this free lunch?" "Yes, sah, I was. Has they done pinched us ag'in,boss?" "Looks that way. Listen to me. Are there anypeaches in this layout? If there ain't I'll have tothrow up the sponge." "There was three dozen, sah, when the gameopened this evenin'; but I reckon the gentlemen doneeat 'em all up. If you'd like to eat a fust-rateorange, sah, I kin find you some." "Get busy," ordered the Kid, sternly, and movewhatever peach crop you've got quick or there'll betrouble. If anybody oranges me again to-night, I'llknock his face off." The raid on Denver Dick's high-priced and prodi-gal luncheon revealed one lone, last peach that hadescaped the epicurean jaws of the followers ofchance. Into the Kid's pocket it went, and that in-defatigable forager departed immediately with hisprize. With scarcely a glance at the scene on thesidewalk below, where the officers were loading theirprisoners into the patrol wagons, be moved homewardwith long, swift strides. His heart was light as be went. So rode theknights back to Camelot after perils and high deedsdone for their ladies fair. The Kid's lady had com-manded him and be had obeyed. True, it was but apeach that she had craved; but it had been no smalldeed to glean a peach at midnight from that wintrycity where yet the February snows lay like iron.She had asked for a peach; she was his bride; in hispocket the peach was warming in his band that held itfor fear that it might fall out and be lost. On the way the Kid turned in at an all-night drugstore and said to the spectacled clerk: "Say, sport, I wish you'd size up this rib of mineand see if it's broke. I was in a little scrap andbumped down a flight or two of stairs." The druggist made an examination."It isn't broken," was his diagnosis, "but you havea bruise there that looks like you'd fallen off theFlatiron twice." "That's all right," said the Kid. "Let's haveyour clothesbrush, please." The bride waited in the rosy glow of the pink lampshade. The miracles were not all passed away. Bybreathing a desire for some slight thing - a flower,a pomegranate, a - oh, yes, a peach - she couldsend forth her man into the night, into the worldwhich could not withstand him, and he would do herbidding. And now be stood by her chair and laid the peachin her band. "Naughty boy!" she said, fondly. "Did I say apeach? I think I would much rather have had anorange." Blest be the bride.

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