The Wood Fire in No. 3 Part 15

"Ponsonby bowed; settled himself slightly in his chair so that the curve in his waistcoat could have full play, toyed with his knife a moment, looked up at the ceiling as if to remember some of the most important details, cleared his throat, and shot a glance down the table to command attention. Everybody felt that the slightest sound from any lips but his own would be punished with instant death.

"'Well, I don't care if I do. About four years ago His Royal Highness, as you know, came out to India, and it became part of me duty to attend upon his purson. He was good enough to remember that service in a way with which, of course, you are all familiar. One morning at daylight his equerry came to me quarters, routed me out of bed, and informed me that His Royal Highness desired me to join him in a tiger hunt, which had been arranged for the night before, and which, owing to me purfect knowledge of the country--I knowing every inch of the ground--His Royal Highness desired to have conducted under me supervision.'

"The two dudes were now listening so intently that one of them came near sliding off the chair. The Curate sat with eyes and mouth open, his hand cupping his ear, drinking in each word with the same attention that he would have shown the Bishop of his diocese. The two country gentlemen leaned forward to hear the better. MacDuff kept perfectly still, his eyes on his plate, his finger around his gla.s.s of Scotch and soda.

"'When we reached the jungle--I was mounted on an elephant with two of me retainers; His Royal Highness ahead on another elephant, an _enor_-mous beast accustomed to hunts of this ke-ind--I heard a plunge in the thicket to me left, the spring of a man-eater! There is no sound like it, gentlemen. The next instant he came head on, bounding like a great cat. When he reached the elephant of His Royal Highness he gathered his forepaws under him, hunched his hind legs, and made ready for the fatal spring. I knew what would happen. I realized in an instant the danger. There was one chawnce in a thousand, but that chawnce I must take. I caught up me forty-four! The beast was now in the air. The next instant his claws would be in the flank of the elephant, and the next His Royal Highness would be chewed to mince-meat. At that instant I fired; there came a yell; the brute fell back lifeless, and the Prince was saved! The ball had taken him over the left eye! I dismounted and hurried to his side. He was the largest beast of his ke-ind I had ever seen in all me expa'rience of twenty years. When we got him out upon the sward he measured twenty-nine feet from the end of his nose to the tip of his tail. If His Royal Highness, gentlemen, is with us to-day, it is due to that shot.'

"A dead silence followed. Saving a future king's life was too grave a matter for applause. The silence was broken by one of the dudes cackling in a low whisper to his mate:

"'Gus, old chap, you know that Ponsonby when he was in the Gyards--aw--was an awful man with a gun. He used to hit--aw--a bull's-eye every time, you know--aw--aw--aw----'

"The country gentlemen held their peace. The Curate now piped up. This was his opportunity.

"'Me Lawd,' he cooed--a dove could not have been more dulcet in its tones--'what I like in a sto-ory of that ke-ind is not so much the wonderful skill of the sportsman as the marvellous inflooence of the British character over the brute beasts of the field.'

"Ponsonby nodded pompously in acknowledgment, and continued to play with his knife. The host beamed down the table; comments were still in order--that's what the story was told for. The country gentlemen pa.s.sed, and MacDuff, reaching over, drew his gla.s.s of Scotch closer, leaned forward with his elbows on the cloth, lowered his head, and fixed his gimlet eyes on Ponsonby's face.

"'Well, I have listened with gr'at pl'asure to the story of Lord Ponsonby. It is veery interestin', and it was veery patriootic of him. I am not much of a hunter mesel', and I do not shoot tagers, but I am a wee bit of a fasherman, and last soommer up in the County of Dee I 'ooked a veery pecooliar fash called a skat'--here MacDuff raised his gla.s.s to his lips, his eyes still glued to Ponsonby's face--'and when we got him oout upon th' bank he covered four acres.'

"Ponsonby rose to his feet red as a lobster; swore that he had never been so insulted in his life, the host trying to pacify him. The dudes were stunned, while the country gentlemen and the Curate stood aghast.

MacDuff never moved an inch from his seat. Ponsonby, purple with rage, stalked out of the room, flung himself into the library, followed by the host and all the guests except MacDuff. The dudes were so overcome that they were mopping their faces with their napkins, believing them to be their handkerchiefs. While Ponsonby was roaring for his carriage the host rushed back to MacDuff's side.

"'You must apologize, sir, and at once,' he screamed; 'at once, Mr.

MacDuff. How is it possible, sir, for a man raised as a gentleman to come into an Englishman's house and insult one of Her Majesty's most distinguished sarvants; a man who for fifty years has----'

"MacDuff clapped one hand to his ear as if to protect it from rupture.

"'Don't br'ak the drum of me ear,' he said in a low, deprecating tone.

'I didn't mean to insoolt Lord Ponsonby. I can't apologize, for the story of the skat's true. But I'll tell you what I'll do. If Lord Ponsonby will tak' aboout eighteen feet off the length of that tager, I'll see what can be doon aboout the skat.' And he emptied the contents of his gla.s.s into his person."

The laughter that followed the conclusion of Murphy's story was so loud and continuous that the big St. Bernard dog rose to his feet and fastened his eyes on his master, only resuming his position on the rug when Lonnegan laid his hand rea.s.suringly on his head.

Boggs was so pleased at his friend's success that he could hardly keep from hugging him. All doubts as to Murphy's being asked to become a permanent member of the Select Circle were dissipated. What delighted Boggs most was the combination of English, Irish, and Scotch dialects twisted about the same tongue. He thought he knew something about dialects, but Murphy had beaten him at his own game.

Every man present had some opinion to offer regarding Ponsonby's adventure, and they all differed. Marny thought the Scot served the old bag of wind right, even if he did have a numismatic collection decorating his chest. The banker was interested in the social side and what it expressed, and said so, winding up with the remark that the "Englishmen knew how to live." Mac, to the surprise of everybody, had no opinion to offer. Woods was more philosophical.

"To me the story is much more than funny," said Woods, "it's instructive. Shows the whole national spirit of the English. They believe in rank and they love to kowtow. I say this in no offensive spirit; and being an Irishman, you, of course, know what I mean; and to tell you the truth I am English in that sense myself. I believe in an aristocracy and in cla.s.s distinction. Here everybody is free and equal; free with everything you own and ready to divide it up equally as soon as they get their hands on it. Democracy is the curse of our country."

"Woods, you talk like a two-cent demagogue," broke out Boggs. "If you and Lonnegan don't give up Murray Hill life you'll be worse than Mr.

Murphy's two dudes. There is no such thing as democracy in our country.

You couldn't find it with a microscope. As soon as a man gets one hundred cents together and has got them hived away safely in a savings bank he becomes a capitalist. The next generation breeds aristocrats.

The son of the man who waits behind Lonnegan's chair at one of the swell affairs uptown, if he has his way, will be Minister to England, and wear knee-breeches at the Queen's receptions. Even the negroes are climbing; some of them even now are putting on more airs than a Harlem goat with a hoopskirt. When they get on top there won't be anything left of the white man. They are beginning in that way now down South. Now you,"

turning to his friend Murphy, "have told us a story which ill.u.s.trates a phase of English life in which the middle cla.s.ses stand in awe of the higher ones. Now listen to one of mine, which ill.u.s.trates a phase of American life, and quite the reverse of yours. I'll tell it to you just as Major Yancey told it to me, and I'll give you, as near as I can, his tones of voice. Wonderfully pathetic, that Southern dialect; it certainly was to me the day I heard him tell it. This Yancey was a fraud, so far as being a representative Virginia gentleman; didn't get within a thousand miles of the real thing; but that didn't rob his story of a certain meaning."

Here Boggs rose to his feet. "I'll have to get up," he said, "for this is one of the stories I can't tell sitting down." n.o.body ever heard Boggs tell any story sitting down. The restless little fellow was generally on his plump legs during most of his deliveries.

"I had seen Yancey in the hotel corridor when I came in, and had stubbed my toe over his outstretched legs--out like a pair of skids on the tail of a dray; had apologized to the legs; had been apologized to most effusively in return, with the result that a few minutes later I found him at my elbow at the bar, where, after some protestations on his part, he concluded to accept my very 'co-tious' invitation, and 'take somethin'.'

"'I am sorry I haven't a ke-ard, suh. My name is Yancey, suh--Thomas Morton Yancey, of Green Briar County, Virginia. You don't know that po'tion of my State, suh. It's G.o.d's own country. Great changes have taken place, suh--not only in our section of the State, but in our people. I myself am not what I appear, suh, as you shall learn later.

The old rulin' cla.s.ses are goin' to the wall; it is the po' white trash and the negroes, suh, that are comin' to the front. Pretty soon we shall have to ask their permission to live on the earth. Now, to give you an idea, suh, of what these changes mean, and how stealthily they are creepin' in among us, I want to tell you, suh, somethin' connected with my own life, for ev'ry word of which I can vouch. Thank you, I will take a drop of bitters in mine,' and he held his gla.s.s out to the barkeeper.

'I don't want to detain you, suh, and I don't want to bore you, but it's the first time for some months that I have had the pleasure of meetin' a Northern gentleman, and I feel it my duty, suh, to give you somethin' of the inside history of the South, and to let you know, suh, what we Southern people suffered immediately after the war, and are still sufferin'.

"'As for myself, suh, I came out penniless, my estates practically confiscated, owin' to some very peremptory proceedin's which took place immediately after the surrender. I, of course, suh, like many other gentlemen of my standin', found it necessary to go to work, the first stroke of work that any of my blood, suh, had ever done since my ancestors settled that po'tion of the State, suh. A crisis, suh, had arrived in my life, and I proposed to meet it. Question was, what could I do? I hadn't studied law and so I could not be a lawyer, and I hadn't taken any course in medicine and so I couldn't be a doctor; and I want to tell you, suh, that the politics of my State were not runnin' in a groove by which I could be elected to any public office. After lookin'

over the ground I decided to open a livery stable. Don't start, suh. I know it will shock you when I tell you that a Yancey had fallen so low, but you must know, suh, that my wife hadn't had a new dress in fo' years and my children were pretty nigh barefoot. Well, suh, a circus company had pa.s.sed through our way and left two spavined horses in Judge Caldwell's lot and a bo'rd bill of fo' dollars and ninety-two cents unpaid. I took my note for a hundred dollars and Judge Caldwell endorsed it, and I sold it for the amount of the bo'rd bill, and I got the two horses. Then I made another note for a similar amount and secured it by a mortgage on the horses, and got a fo'seated wagon and two sets of second-hand harness. Then I put a sign over my barn do'--"Thomas Martin Yancey, Livery & Sale Stable."

"'About a week after I had started Colonel Moseley's black Sam--free then, of co'se, suh--come down to my place and said, "Major Yancey, there's goin' to be a ball over to Barboursville----"

"'"Is there, Sam?" I said. "You n.i.g.g.e.rs seem to be gettin' up in the world."

"'"Yes," he said, "and I want you to hook yo' rig and take eight of us----"

"'"What! you infernal scoundrel! You come to me and ask me to----"

"'"Now, don't get het up, Major! Eight n.i.g.g.e.rs at fifty cents apiece is fo' dollars."

"'"Yancey," I said to myself, "brace up! This is one of the great crises of yo' life. Sam, bring on yo' mokes!"

"'There was fo' bucks and fo' wenches, all rigged out to kill. I put 'em in and started.

"'It was a very cold night, coldest weather I'd seen in my State for years, with a light crust of snow on the ground. When we got to Barboursville--it was about eight miles--I found the ball was over a grocery store with a pair of steps goin' up on the outside to a little balcony. Well, suh, they got out and went up ahead, and I blanketed the horses and followed. When I opened the do'--you ain't familiar, suh, I reckon, with our part of the country, suh, but I tell you, suh, that with three fiddles, two red hot stoves, and eighty n.i.g.g.e.rs, all dancin', the atmosphere was oppressive! I stood it as long as I could and then I went out on the balcony. Then I said to myself--"Yancey, this is a great crisis of yo' life, but you needn't get pneumonia. Go in and sit down inside."

"'I hadn't been there three minutes, suh, when black Sam came up to the bench on which I was sittin'--he had two wenches on his arm--and said, "Major Yancey; would you have any objection to steppin' outside?"

"'"Why?" I asked.

"'"Cause some of the ladies objects to the smell of horse in yo'

clo'es."

"'I left the livery business that night, suh, and I am what you see--a broken-down Southern gentleman.'"

Another outburst of laughter followed. Everybody agreed that Boggs had never been so happy in his delineations. The banker, who knew something of the Southern dialects, was overjoyed. The allusion to the ungentlemanly foreclosure proceedings touched his funny-bone in a peculiar manner, and set him to laughing again whenever he thought of it. Everybody had expressed some opinion both of Murphy's story and of Boggs's yarn but MacWhirter, who, strange to say, had seen nothing humorous in either narrative. During the telling he had been bending over in his chair stroking the dog's ears.

"What do you think of the two yarns, Mac?" asked Marny.

"Think just what Mr. Murphy thinks--that the Englishman was a sn.o.b, Ponsonby a cad, and that MacDuff should have been shown the door. The group about that Englishman's table was not of the best English society--nowhere near it. Consideration for the other man's feelings, the one below you in rank, invariably distinguishes the true English gentleman. That old story about the sergeant who got the Victoria Cross for bringing a wounded officer out under fire ill.u.s.trates what I mean,"

continued Mac in a perfectly grave, sober voice.

"Never heard it."

"Then I'll tell you. He had crawled on all fours to a wounded officer, picked him up, and had carried him off the firing line under a hail of bullets, one of which broke his wrist. He was promoted on the field by his commanding officer, got the V.C., and took his place among his now brother officers at the company's mess, and, it being his first meal, sat on the Colonel's right. Ice was served, a little piece about the size of a lump of sugar--precious as gold in that climate. It was for the champagne, something he had never seen. The hero was served first.

He hesitated a moment, and dropped it in his soup. The Colonel took his piece and dropped it in his soup; so did every other gentleman down both sides of the table drop his in the soup. As to Boggs's Virginian, he got what he deserved. He was trying to be something that he wasn't; I'm glad the darkey took the pride out of him. It's all a pretence and a sham.

They are all trying to be something they are not. 'Tisn't democracy or aristocracy that is to blame with us--it's the growing power of riches; the crowding the poor from off the face of the earth. Nothing counts now but a bank account. Pretty soon we will have a clearing-house of t.i.tles, based on incomes. When the cas.h.i.+er certifies to the amount, the t.i.tle is conferred. The man of one million will become a lord; the man with two millions a count; three millions a duke, and so on. To me all this climbing is idiotic."

Roars of laughter followed Mac's outburst. When Boggs got his breath he declared between his gasps that Mac's criticisms were funnier than Murphy's story.

"Takes it all seriously; not a ghost of a sense of humor in him! Isn't he delicious!"