At sun-up Cheon had us in his garden, sure now that Pine Creek could not
possibly outdo us in vegetables and the Dandy coming in with every
commission fulfilled we felt ham was a mere detail.
But Cheon's cup of happiness was to brim over that day, for after
answering every question hurled at him, the Dandy sang cheerfully: "He
put in his thumb and pulled out a plum," and dragged forth a ham from its
hiding-place, with a laughing, "What a good boy am I."
With a swoop Cheon was on it, and the Dandy, trying to regain it, said,
"Here, hold hard! I've to present it to the missus with a bow and the
compliments of Mine Host." But Cheon would not part with it, and so the
missus had the bow and the compliments, and Cheon the ham.
Lovingly he patted it and asked us if there ever was such a ham? or ever
such a wonderful man as Mine Host? or ever such a fortunate woman as the
missus? Had any other woman such a ham or such a friend in need? And
bubbling over with affection for the whole world, he sent Jackeroo off
for mistletoe, and presently the ham, all brave in Christmas finery, was
hanging like a gay wedding-bell in the kitchen doorway. Then the kitchen
had to be decorated, also in mistletoe, to make a fitting setting for the
ham, and after that the fiat went forth. No one need expect either eggs
or cream before "Clisymus" - excepting, of course, the sick Mac - he must
be kept in condition to do justice to our "Clisymus" fare.
What a week it was - all festivities, and meagre fare, and whirring
egg-beaters, and thunderstorms, and downpours, and water-melon dividends,
and daily visits to the vegetable patch; where Happy Dick was assured,
during a flying visit, that we were sure of seven varieties of vegetables
for "Clisymus."
But alas for human certainty! Even then swarms of grasshoppers were
speeding towards us, and by sundown were with us.
In vain Cheon and the staff, the rejected, Bett-Bett every shadow and the
missus, danced war-dances in the vegetable patch, and chivied and chased,
and flew all ways at once; the grasshoppers had found green stuff exactly
to their liking, and coming in clouds, settled, and feasted, and flew
upwards, and settled back, and feasted, and swept on, leaving poor
Cheon's heart as barren of hope as the garden was of vegetables. Nothing
remained but pumpkins, sweet potatoes, and Cheon's tardy watermelons, and
the sight of the glaring blotches of pumpkins filled Cheon with fury.
"Pumpee-kin for Clisymus!" he raved, kicking furiously at the hideous
wens. Not if he knew it!
