Wait and Hope Part 24

Among those present was a rustic couple, who appeared to be on a wedding trip. The bridegroom was dressed in a full suit of blue cloth, the coat being decorated with bra.s.s b.u.t.tons, while the bride was resplendent in a dress brilliant in color and with large figures.

"Sally," said the young husband, "I want you to have your head examined. It only costs a quarter."

"Oh, Jonathan, how can I before all them folks?" said Sally bashfully. "Suppose he should say something bad about me."

"If he does, I'll bu'st his head," said Jonathan. "He can't say nothin' but what's good about you, Sally.

"All right, Jonathan, just as you say."

"My wife will have her head examined," said Jonathan, with a proud glance at his radiant bride.

"Please sit here, madam," said the professor. "Now I will trouble you to remove your bonnet."

"Don't tumble up my hair," said Sally solicitously.

"That will not be necessary," said Prof. Crane. "This lady has a very harmonious head."

"What's that?" inquired Sally, in a low voice, of Jonathan, who stood at her side.

"Something good, I reckon," whispered her husband.

"She has those sweet domestic virtues which fit the possessor to adorn the family circle and lend a l.u.s.ter to the home."

"How nice he talks!" murmured Sally, in a tone of gratification.

"Yes, Sally, he's smart," said Jonathan, "and can read you like a book."

"This lady has a great taste for music. She would be like to excel as a musician. Am I right, sir?"

"I guess you are," said Jonathan. "You'd ought to hear her sing in the choir to hum. She's got a powerful voice, Sally has. She can almost raise the rafters of the old meetin'-house."

"You see, ladies and gentlemen, that the husband of the lady confirms what I say of her. Phrenology never errs. A phrenologist is never mistaken in character. Nature has stamped her impress upon each one of us, and declares unmistakably what we are."

"Go ahead, professor," said Jonathan impatiently.

"The lady has a taste for strong and decided colors. What is showy attracts her admiration."

"That's so!" commented Jonathan.

"She has a good deal of firmness, and likes to have her own way; as most of use do," added the professor. "Still she would yield to strong persuasion."

It will be unnecessary to go farther in the examination which proved quite satisfactory to the young couple, and a source of amus.e.m.e.nt to the rest of the pa.s.sengers.

Jonathan next submitted himself to the professor's skill, and was highly delighted in being told that he was fitted to s.h.i.+ne in public life, and might hereafter become a member of Congress.

"I guess the folks at home will think more of me when they hear that,"

he remarked to Sally. "The professor has given us good characters."

"So he has. Do you think it's all true, Jonathan?"

"Of course it is. It's a wonderful science, Sally. I didn't know I had so many b.u.mps."

"Nor I. I can't feel 'em myself."

"That's because you're not used to it. It takes the professor to do it."

Other subjects were forthcoming, and the professor cleared three dollars during the evening. He understood human nature well enough to flatter all, without absolutely contradicting the science of which he claimed to be the exponent.

Chapter XV

An Old Convert to Phrenology

About eleven o'clock the steamer stopped. A dense fog had sprung up, which made it perilous to proceed. Ben, who was a novice in traveling, got up to see what was the matter. He was on his way back to the stateroom, when he encountered a strange figure. The old lady was wandering about in dishabille, looking thoroughly alarmed.

Recognizing Ben, she clutched his arm.

"What has happened?" she asked, in a hollow voice, "Is the s.h.i.+p sinkin'?"

"No, ma'am," answered Ben. "We have only stopped on account of the fog."

"Something may run into us," exclaimed the old lady. "Oh, dear!

I wish I had never left home."

"You'd better go back to bed," said Ben soothingly. "There's no danger."

"No, I won't," said the old woman resolutely. "I'm not going to be drowned in my bed. I'll stay here till mornin'."

And she plumped down into an armchair, where she looked like an image of despair.

"Hadn't you better put on something more?" suggested Ben.

"You may get cold."

"I'll put on my shawl and bunnit," said the old lady. "I can't sleep a wink. We shall be s.h.i.+pwrecked; I know we shall."

Whether the old lady kept her word, or not, Ben did not know.

When he entered the saloon the next morning she was already up and dressed, looking haggard from want of sleep. Ben ascertained that the boat had started again about five o'clock, and would probably reach Fall River five or six hours late. This would make it necessary to take breakfast on board.

He imparted the news to the old lady.

"It's a shame," she said indignantly. "They did it a purpose to make us spend more money. I expected to eat breakfast at my son's house in Boston."

"We shall not probably reach Boston till noon, I hear."

"Then suppose I'll have to buy somethin' to stay my stomach. It's a shame. It costs a sight to travel."