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Hempfield. Grayson David
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How often have I heard him since that memorable time! He does it very impressively, with his right thumb hooked into the buttons of his vest, his beautiful shaggy head thrown well back, and his somewhat shabby frock coat drawn up on the left side – for it is his left hand that he holds so tremulously and impressively aloft – that mighty director of public opinion, that repository of freedom, that palladium of democracy, that ruler of the nation. Whenever I hear the Captain, I can never think of the press without trembling a little at its incredible prescience, without being awed by the way in which it soaks up the life of the community and, having held it for a moment in solution, distributes it – I quote the Captain – "like dew" (sometimes manna) "upon the populace, iridescent with the glories of the printed word." Nor do I ever hear him these days, especially in his moments of biting irony, when he considers those "contemners of the Press" (mostly Democrats) who never tire of "nefarious practices," without thinking of that first morning I spent in the printing-office – and the look in Anthy's eyes.
Events after the departure of the mild-eyed Bucky moved swiftly. Anthy walked down the room, and Fergus, after hesitating for a moment, followed her. I suppose I should have departed promptly, but I couldn't – I simply couldn't. After the solitude of my farm and my thoughts, I cannot tell how fascinating I found these stirring events.
The little drama which followed was all perfectly clear to me, though I heard not a word, except the last exclamation. As Fergus followed Anthy, he drew a lean tobacco bag slowly out of his hip pocket – and thrust it quickly back again, hesitated, then spoke to Anthy. She shook her head vigorously, and stood up very straight and still. Fergus's hand went back to his pocket again, hesitated, plunged in. He took a bill from the lean bag and fumbled it in his hand. Every line in Anthy's firm body said no. She looked out of the window expectantly. Fergus's looks followed hers. It was evident that they both expected and desired something very much.
"There he is now!" exclaimed Anthy, and that was the exclamation I heard.
He didn't come in crying "Fudge!" as I half expected, but it was none the less a dramatic moment for me. I heard the preliminary thump, thump, of his cane on the porch. I heard him clear his throat stentoriously, as was his custom, and then the Captain, stepping in, looked about him with a benignant eye.
"Anthy, Anthy," he called. "Where are you, Anthy?"
"Here, Uncle! Glad to see you. The insides are at the station, and we need – "
"Anthy," interrupted the Captain, impressively waving his hand, "I have determined upon one thing."
He took off his broad-brimmed hat, and, having with some determination forced the cat from the editorial chair, sat down. There was evidently something unusual on his mind. He sat up straight, resting one hand, which was seen to hold a paper-covered parcel, upon the edge of the desk. If he saw me at all, he gave no sign. I have never thought he saw me.
"Anthy – "
He paused a moment, very dignified. Anthy said nothing.
"I have determined," he continued, "that we must economize."
A swift flash swept over Anthy's expressive face, whether of sympathy or amusement I could not tell. I never knew a time in Anthy's life, even when the heavy world rested most heavily upon her (except once), when she wasn't as near to laughter as she was to tears. She had the God-given grace of seeing that every serious thing in life has a humorous side.
"You're right, Uncle – especially this very morning – "
"Yes, Anthy," he again interrupted, as though he couldn't afford to be diverted by immediate considerations. "Yes, we must economize sharply. Times are not what they were when your father was alive. 'Wealth accumulates and men decay.' The country press is being strangled, forced to the wall by the brute wealth of the city. The march of events – "
"Yes, Uncle."
He stopped in the midst of his flight and repeated:
"We must economize —and I've begun!"
He said it with great dramatic force, but the effect on Anthy was not what an unprejudiced observer might have expected. I thought she looked a bit alarmed.
The Captain cleared his throat, and said with impressive deliberation:
"I've given up smoking cigars!"
Anthy's laugh was clear and strong.
"You have!" she exclaimed.
"And from now on," said the Captain, still very serious, "I shall smoke a pipe."
With that he took notice for the first time of the package in his hand. It contained a case, which he opened slowly.
"Isn't it a beauty?" he said, holding up a new briar pipe.
"Yes," she replied faintly; "but, Uncle, how did you get it?"
He cleared his throat.
"One must make a beginning," he said; "economy is positively necessary. I bought it."
"Uncle, you didn't spend Frank Toby's subscription for a pipe!"
The Captain looked a little offended.
"Anthy, it was a bargain. It was marked down from two dollars."
Anthy turned partly aside, quite unconscious of either Fergus or me, and such a look of discouragement and distress swept over her face as I cannot describe. But it was only for an instant. The Captain was still holding up the pipe for her admiration. She laid her hand again quickly on his shoulder.
"It is a beauty," she said.
"I knew you'd like it," exclaimed the Captain benevolently. "When I saw it in the window I said, 'Anthy'd like that pipe.' I knew it. So I bought it."
"But, Uncle – how we did need the money this morning of all mornings! The insides are here, we must have them – "
"So I say," said the Captain with great firmness, "we must economize sharply. And I've begun. Let's all get down now to work. Fergus, I've answered the fellow on the Sterling Democrat. I've left nothing of him at all – not a pinfeather."
With that he took a new pouch of tobacco from his pocket, and began to fill his new pipe. The cat rubbed familiarly against his leg.
Silence in the office, interrupted a moment later by the second appearance of that villain, Bucky Penrose, who thrust his head in the door and called out:
"Lend a hand, Fergus. I got the insides."
Fergus looked at Anthy. She had grown pale.
"Go on, Fergus."
It is this way with me, that often I think of the great thing to do after I get home and into bed. But it came to me suddenly – an inspiration that made me a little dizzy for a moment – and I stepped into the story.
"I forgot a part of my errand," I said, "when we were – interrupted. I want to subscribe to your paper, right away."
Anthy looked at me keenly for a moment, her colour slowly rising.
"Whom shall we send it to?" she asked in the dryest, most businesslike voice, as though subscriptions were flowing in all the time.
For the life of me I couldn't think of anybody. I never was more at sea in my life. I don't know yet how it occurred to me, but I said, suddenly, with great relief:
"Why, send it to Doctor McAlway."
"He is already a subscriber, one of our oldest," she responded crisply.
We stood there, looking at each other desperately.
"Well," said I, "send it – send it to my uncle – in California."
At that Anthy laughed; we both laughed. But she was evidently very determined.
"I appreciate – I know," she began, "but I can't – "
"See here," I said severely. "You're in the newspaper business, aren't you?"
"Yes."
"Then I propose to subscribe for your paper. I demand my rights. And besides" – it came