At First I Was Surprised, But I Soon Saw How Things Was:
The Old Gentleman Couldn't Come Out In The Rain.
It was plain enough
from the way these two young people looked at each other that they was
in love, and although it most likely hurt them just as much to come out
into the rain as it would the old man, love is all-powerful, even over
rheumatism.
Pretty soon the clouds cleared away without notice, as they do in this
country, and it wasn't long before I saw, away off, the old man's
bath-chair coming along lively. His bottle-nose was sticking up in the
air, and he was looking from one side to the other as hard as he could.
The two lovers had turned off to the right and gone over a little
bridge and I couldn't see them; but by the way that old nose shook as
it got nearer and nearer to me, I saw they had reason to tremble,
though they didn't know it.
When the old father reached the narrow path he did not turn down it,
but kept straight on, and I breathed a sigh of deep relief. But the
next instant I remembered that the broad path turned not far beyond,
and that the little one soon ran into it, and so it could not be long
before the father and the lovers would meet. I like to tell Jone
everything I am going to do, when I am sure that he'll agree with me
that it is right; but this time I could not bother with explanations,
and so I just told him to sit still for a minute, for I wanted to see
something, and I walked after the young couple as fast as I could. When
I got to them, for they hadn't gone very far, I passed the young
woman's bath-chair, and then I looked around and I said to her, "I beg
your pardon, miss, but there is an old gentleman looking for you; but
as I think he is coming round this way, you'll meet him if you keep on
this path." "Oh, my!" said she unintentionally; and then she thanked me
very much, and I went on and turned a corner and went back to Jone, and
pretty soon the young man's bath-chair passed us going toward the
gate, he looking three-quarters happy, and the other quarter
disappointed, as lovers are if they don't get the whole loaf.
From that day until yesterday, which was a full week, I came into the
gardens every morning, sometimes even when Jone didn't want to come,
because I wanted to see as much of this love business as I could. For
my own use in thinking of them I named the young man Pomeroy and the
young woman Angelica, and as for the father, I called him Snortfrizzle,
being the worst name I could think of at the time. But I must wait
until my next letter to tell you the rest of the story of the lovers,
and I am sure you will be as much interested in them as I was.
Letter Number Nineteen
BUXTON
I have a good many things to tell you, for we leave Buxton to-morrow,
but I will first finish the story of Angelica and Pomeroy. I think the
men who pulled the bath-chairs of the lovers knew pretty much how
things was going, for whenever they got a chance they brought their
chairs together, and I often noticed them looking out for the old
father, and if they saw him coming they would move away from each other
if they happened to be together.
If Snortfrizzle's puller had been one of the regular bath-chair men
they might have made an agreement with him so that he would have kept
away from them; but he was a man in livery, with a high hat, who walked
very regular, like a high-stepping horse, and who, it was plain enough
to see, never had anything to do with common bath-chair men. Old
Snortfrizzle seemed to be smelling a rat more and more - that is, if it
is proper to liken Cupid to such an animal - and his nose seemed to get
purpler and purpler. I think he would always have kept close to
Angelica's chair if it hadn't been that he had a way of falling asleep,
and whenever he did this his man always walked very slow, being
naturally lazy. Two or three times I have seen Snortfrizzle wake up,
shout to his man, and make him trot around a clump of trees and into
some narrow path where he thought his daughter might have gone.
Things began to look pretty bad, for the old man had very strong
suspicions about Pomeroy, and was so very wide awake when he was awake,
that I knew it couldn't be long before he caught the two together, and
then I didn't believe that Angelica would ever come into these gardens
again.
It was yesterday morning that I saw old Snortfrizzle with his chin down
on his shirt bosom, snoring so steady that his hat heaved, being very
slowly pulled along a shady walk, and then I saw his daughter, who was
not far ahead of him, turn into another walk, which led down by the
river. I knew very well that she ought not to turn into that walk,
because it didn't in any way lead to the place where Pomeroy was
sitting in his bath-chair behind a great clump of bushes and flowers,
with his face filled with the most lively emotions, but overspread
ever and anon by a cloudlet of despair on account of the approach of
the noontide hour, when Angelica and Snortfrizzle generally went home.
[Illustration: "Your brother is over there"]
The time was short, and I believed that love's young dream must be put
off until the next day if Angelica could not be made aware where
Pomeroy was sitting, or Pomeroy where Angelica was going; so I got
right up and made a short cut down a steep little path, and, sure
enough, I met her when I got to the bottom.
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