Marguerite Verne; Or, Scenes from Canadian Life - Part 37
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Part 37

and with the kindness received from Mr. Verne the happy climax was almost reached.

"Would'nt it be great," mused Moses as he followed the plough in the field above referred to, "if when Melindy and myself go to town that we would put up at them 'ere Verneses. Golly it would make the Wiggleses eyes stick out furder than ever. They're a jealous lot at the best o' times, and its sich a silly idear for Melindy to be a-naggin' at me for goin' there when I never go nearer than the rickety old gate."

Mr. Spriggins was evidently taking on a few airs for he seemed quite exasperated and ready to battle against such aspersions. Instantly his face became radiant as the noonday sun, and he burst forth in rapturous strains--

"What a man I would be and what sights I would see If I had but ten thousand a year,"

until the hills and dales in the vicinity of Mill Crossing caught up the refrain and all nature seemed to rejoice.

"What's the use of wishin'? it won't bring the ten thousand any more than I could turn that old millstream yonder tother way. But what's the odds so long as yer happy?" and once more there floated on the breeze--

"If I had but _one_ thousand a year."

"Yes sir, I'd be content," exclaimed Mr. Spriggins, as he finished the last stanza and took a vigorous pull at his pipe as means of reconciliation with his present circ.u.mstances.

"And, by-the-bye, I must go up to Ned Joneses to-night and talk him into that business. It aint any sense for Ned and me to be a keepin'

up spite 'cause the old folks want ter. No sir, not this child, anyhow."

Between eulogizing and soliloquizing Moses' morning wore into evening and having hitched up the old mare he set off for the post office--a spot doubly endeared to him since Melindy Jane Thrasher went to service, since which time there regularly arrived every Monday evening a suspicious letter addressed:--

MR. MOSES SPRIGGINS, Mill Crossin', Kings County, N. B. In haste.

Imagine the surprise of our friend on being presented with three whole letters--nothing more, nothing less--and one was addressed "Moses Spriggins, Esq."

"I wouldn't take that as a joke, nohow, Mose," said a lugubrious looking individual, whose face looked as if it had been playing "I spy" with a tallow candle and got the worst of the battle.

"Bet your life on it it's no joke; you're jest right Zeb, it's real down airnest; the fellow that rit that ain't one of your jokin'

consarns."

Mr. Spriggins glanced over Melindy's letter to see if she was in good "speerits," and being more than satisfied, broke open the seal of the second one, which was from Mr. Verne.

It was written in a large and legible hand, and was couched in the most simple language, and ended with a request that the finding of the paper should be kept secret until such time as he (Mr. Verne) should see fit to acknowledge it. "I do not doubt you, Mr.

Spriggins, only you might carelessly let it be made known among your friends."

When Moses read these lines he was more than delighted. They expressed such confidence in him that he felt so proud, to quote his own expression, "that he wouldn't claim relationship with the Attorney Gin'ral."

The third letter which drew our friend's attention, was a notice from the Dominion Safety Fund Company, which almost gave as much pleasure as the other, for in it lay, as Moses expressed it, "a big bonanzer one of these days."

But Moses was not destined to live many days in a perpetual ray of sunshine.

Mrs. Spriggins was a motherly and kind woman, careful, industrious and economical, but she had one bad habit--that of scolding.

"Mother could no more live without scoldin' than dad could live without his tobaccer," was Moses' frequent comment when beyond the old lady's hearing.

The happy first-born was dear to Mrs. Spriggins as "the apple of her eye," but he always came in for a decent share of the scolding.

"Now, what that critter is a galavantin' to town and gettin' so many letters is mor'n I can tell. Seems to me he must be neglectin'

sumthin', for I tell ye things won't git along without puttin' your shoulder to the wheel." (Mrs. Spriggins had evidently heard of the fable of Sisyphus, and gave it an original translation.)

"That's all right Jerushy, but I don't think there is any danger of our Moses. He's as stiddy as a rock."

"Don't let him hear you say so, Simon, for its the worst thing in the world to be a-praisin' your own children, and a-tellin' them they're so smart, and good lookin', it makes them so ever-lastin'

conseity."

Mr. Spriggins, Sr., was going to remark that there was no danger of _her_ children getting spoilt, but he knew what was best for himself, and kept a quiet tongue in his head.

The next evening after Moses had been to the post office, he became aware of the startling fact that his mother had been peeking into his trousers pocket while she rearranged his neat little room, and made it look more spicy by the addition of a set of snow-white curtains.

"'Pears to me Moses you have a lot of business agoin' on. Hope you ain't writin' to any girls but Melindy. You know anything I despise is a young man a-flirtin' with every girl he sees, and besides its not what any honest man would do. It's well enough for them 'ere city chaps that thinks no more of their word than eating their supper, to be runnin' arter every piece of calicer they see, but I tell you none of the Spriggins is agoin' to do it."

Mrs. Spriggins evidently meant what she said if one could judge from her vehemence, her snapping eyes and sharp tongue.

"Don't be skeered of me a flirtin' mother, I'll stick to Melindy while there's a b.u.t.ton to my coat," said Moses trying hard to look very dignified.

"Well, what is all of 'em letters about?"

"What letters mother?" queried Moses, with the evident delight of extorting a confession.

"Why as I was a-hangin' up your Sunday trousers some of 'em fell out and I couldn't help a-lookin' at the writin' on the back.

"From as fine a gentleman as ever walked the streets of St. John,"

cried Moses quite emphatically.

"What's comin' next! You, Moses Spriggins of Mill Crossin', a ritin'

letters to a gentleman. Let's hear all about it.

"I'm not at liberty to tell you jest now mother, I'm sorry to say, but it's all right."

"Am I in my sober senses or am I in a nightmare? (No, there's Mose as nateral as life.)" Then pointing her finger at the supposed culprit Mrs. Spriggins exclaimed: "I tell you what it is Moses Spriggins it's nothin' very good that you're ahidin' from your own mother. Got into them lawyer's clutches at last? Ye used ter say ye liked law and if I'm as good a prophet as I think I ort to be you'll get enough of it. Like as not the farm and the stock and all the utensils will go afore long. Oh dear me!"

Mrs. Spriggins now stopped for want of breath and fawning herself violently with the bottom of her blue gingham ap.r.o.n made a second onslaught.

"I tell ye what it is Mose there is no good comin' of this 'ere gallivantin' to town every t'other day, anyhow."

"Mother, if you would only have patience a few minits I might make some explanation, but you seem to want to have it your own way,"

said Moses, who had now determined to venture a word or two in his defence.

"Be keerful, Moses, how you speak to your own mother. It's time I _had_ everything my own way, when other folks can't manage their own affairs," said Mrs. Spriggins, with an angry toss of her head.

"Now jest listen a minit, mother, and if I'm wrong I'll give in,"

said Moses, trying to effect a compromise.

"Well, let's hear what you have to say for yourself; but remember, you must not palaver it up to suit yourself, or I'll soon find out--sure as my name is Jerushy Ann Spriggins."

Moses had, to a certain extent, allayed Mrs. Spriggins' fears, and brought matters to a satisfactory close, when a load knock at the front door caused the latter to utter a startling exclamation, and then run to the gla.s.s to see if her hair was parted straight.

"Gracious goodness, mother, if there ain't the greatest crowd you ever saw. There's Mister and Missus Squires and Deacon Rider, and Missus Rider and little Joe Rider, and there's Huldey Ameliar d.i.c.kson and Marthy Ann, and a hull lot more."

"Moses Spriggins, are you a-takin' leave of your senses to be a-standin' gapin' with your mouth open instead of runnin' to the door and a-showin' 'em into the best room, and I'm not fit to be seen. It's allus the way. If I had all my fixin's on there'd not be a soul to come, but let one sit in their old rags, and the hull country side will pop in."