JUST AS YOU EXPECTED.
The spring of 1861 had now arrived,--that eventful spring which was to lift the curtain and show the first scene of the first act in the mighty drama which fixed the eyes of mankind during four bloody years. The little schemes of little people were going on in all our cities and villages without thought of the fearful convulsion which was soon coming to shatter the hopes and cloud the prospects of millions. Our little Oxbow Village, which held itself by no means the least of human centres, was the scene of its own commotions, as intense and exciting to those concerned as if the destiny of the nation had been involved in them.
Mr. Clement Lindsay appeared suddenly in that important locality, and repaired to his accustomed quarters at the house of Deacon Rumrill.
That worthy person received him with a certain gravity of manner, caused by his recollections of the involuntary transgression into which Mr. Lindsay had led him by his present of "Ivanhoe." --He was, on the whole, glad to see him, for his finances were not yet wholly recovered from the injury inflicted on them by the devouring element.
But he could not forget that his boarder had betrayed him into a breach of the fourth commandment, and that the strict eyes of his clergyman had detected him in the very commission of the offence. He had no sooner seen Mr. Clement comfortably installed, therefore, than he presented himself at the door of his chamber with the book, enveloped in strong paper and very securely tied round with a stout string.
"Here is your vollum, Mr. Lindsay," the Deacon said. "I understand it is not the work of that great and good mahn who I thought wrote it. I did not see anything immoral in it as fur as I read, but it belongs to what I consider a very dangerous class of publications.
These novels and romances are awfully destructive to our youth. Ishould recommend you, as a young man of principle, to burn the vollum. At least I hope you will not leave it about anywhere unless it is carefully tied up. I have written upon the paper round it to warn off all the young persons of my household from meddling with it."True enough, Mr. Clement saw in strong black letters on the back of the paper wrapping his unfortunate "Ivanhoe,"---"DANGEROUS READING FOR CHRISTIAN YOUTH.
"TOUCH NOT THE UNCLEAN THING."
"I thought you said you had Scott's picture hung up in your parlor, Deacon Rumrill," he said, a little amused with the worthy man's fear and precautions.
"It is the great Scott's likeness that I have in my parlor," he said;"I will show it to you if you will come with me."Mr. Clement followed the Deacon into that sacred apartment.
"That is the portrait of the great Scott," he said, pointing to an engraving of a heavy-looking person whose phrenological developments were a somewhat striking contrast to those of the distinguished Sir Walter.
"I will take good care that none of your young people see this volume," Mr. Clement said; "I trust you read it yourself, however, and found something to please you in it. I am sure you are safe from being harmed by any such book. Did n't you have to finish it, Deacon, after you had once begun?""Well, I--I--perused a consid'able portion of the work," the Deacon answered, in a way that led Mr. Clement to think he had not stopped much short of Finis. "Anything new in the city?""Nothing except what you've all had,--Confederate States establishing an army and all that,--not very new either. What has been going on here lately, Deacon?""Well, Mr. Lindsay, not a great deal. My new barn is pretty nigh done. I've got as fine a litter of pigs as ever you see. I don't know whether you're a judge of pigs or no. The Hazard gal's come back, spilt, pooty much, I guess. Been to one o' them fashionable schools,--I 've heerd that she 's learnt to dance. I've heerd say that that Hopkins boy's round the Posey gal, come to think, she's the one you went with some when you was here,--I 'm gettin' kind o' forgetful. Old Doctor Hurlbut's pretty low,--ninety-four year old,--born in '67,--folks ain't ginerally very spry after they're ninety, but he held out wonderful.""How's Mr. Bradshaw?"
"Well, the young squire, he's off travellin' somewhere in the West, or to Washin'ton, or somewhere else,--I don't jestly know where.
They say that he's follerin' up the courts in the business about old Malachi's estate. I don' know much about it."The news got round Oxbow Village very speedily that Mr. Clement Lindsay, generally considered the accepted lover of Miss Susan Posey, had arrived in that place. Now it had come to be the common talk of the village that young Gifted Hopkins and Susan Posey were getting to be mighty thick with each other, and the prevailing idea was that Clement's visit had reference to that state of affairs. Some said that Susan had given her young man the mitten, meaning thereby that she had signified that his services as a suitor were dispensed with.
Others thought there was only a wavering in her affection for her lover, and that he feared for her constancy, and had come to vindicate his rights.
Some of the young fellows, who were doubtless envious of Gifted's popularity with the fair ***, attempted in the most unjustifiable manner to play upon his susceptible nature. One of them informed him that he had seen that Lindsay fellah raound taown with the darndest big stick y' ever did see. Looked kind o' savage and wild like.
Another one told him that perhaps he'd better keep a little shady;that are chap that had got the mittin was praowlin' abaout -with a pistil,--one o' them Darringers,--abaout as long as your thumb, an' fire a bullet as big as a p'tatah-ball,--'a fellah carries one in his breeches-pocket, an' shoots y' right threugh his own pahnts, withaout ever takin' on it aout of his pocket. The stable-keeper, who, it may be remembered, once exchanged a few playful words with Mr. Gridley, got a hint from some of these unfeeling young men, and offered the resources of his stable to the youth supposed to be in peril.
