The Knickerbocker, or New-York Monthly Magazine, January 1844. Various
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niece, christened Dick and Belinda, orphan children of a deceased brother. Dick was a wild, rattling scape-grace, as ever robbed hen-roost or melon-patch; Belinda was nothing, particularly, except a little, quiet, blue-eyed girl, the pride of her aunt, and a pattern of propriety to all little girls. That Miss Sidebottom was kind and motherly to the two orphans, there is no question; but it was rumored that in consideration thereof she enjoyed a comfortable legacy. It is only necessary to premise, farther, that Miss Sidebottom had been younger by some two-score years than she was that night; that she was one of Mr. Hardesty’s best customers; and that after long worshipping her across the counter, he had suddenly determined to declare his passion with all the eloquence he possessed; which was not inconsiderable, as many can bear witness.
Mr. Hardesty knocks and is admitted to the hall. Another door is opened, and there, in the snuggest corner, and by the snuggest fire conceivable, sits Miss Sidebottom. The opposite end of the hearth is decorated by Belinda, while a cat is sleeping on the rug between them. It was a picture of quiet happiness that touched Mr. Hardesty’s heart; and advancing into the room, he bows with all the elegance of a Beau Brummel.
Miss Sidebottom turned her eyes upon the new-comer, and as they fell on the familiar and smiling countenance of the grocer, she sprang to her feet, and exclaimed: ‘Why, Mr. Hardesty! I am so glad to see you! Let me have your cloak and cap, Sir. Come, be seated; draw near the fire.’
Mr. Hardesty kept bowing all this time with as much nobility as was displayed by the famous stick that was too crooked to lie still; and after grasping Belinda’s hand very affectionately, he seated himself, and drew near the fire.
‘Dear me! what a night!’ said Miss Sidebottom; ‘ain’t it cold out, Mr. Hardesty?’
Mr. Hardesty replied by shivering palpably, and said he had seen colder, and he had seen warmer, but it would do. Having said thus much, he produced his snuff-box, which he extended to the ladies, and then helped himself.
‘I am truly glad, Miss Peggy,’ continued Tom. ‘to see you situated so comfortably—I am.’ And he smiled tenderly and shifted his chair; but in doing so, he infringed on the cat’s tail, and the animal, as cats are wont to do, squalled vehemently. Mr. Hardesty bounded from his seat.
‘Dear me!’ exclaimed Miss Sidebotton, ‘don’t do that!’
‘Positively, Madam,’ said Tom, ‘I am very sorry, indeed—I am!’
‘Poor thing!’ said Belinda, taking the injured quadruped in her arms; ‘poor thing!—did he hurt its tail?’
‘’Deed, Madam,’ said Mr. Hardesty, stroking the animal’s back, ‘I wouldn’t have done that for forty ordinary cats. I may say, Madam, speaking metaphorically, that your cat is of the short-horn Durham stock, and wasn’t made to be trod on.’
‘Lor’, Sir,’ replied Miss Sidebottom, adjusting her cap, ‘cats is cats, and cattle is cattle—that’s my sentiments; but as I was going to say, Mr. Hardesty, I was telling Mrs. Jenkins to-night, not an hour ago, that I felt a kind of nervous kind of feeling that somebody was coming; and sure enough, here comes you. You see, Mrs. Jenkins was here to take tea with me to-night, and beside the baby, why her little Jack and Sally and Bill and Susan would come, because, they said, pap wasn’t at home, and they would starve if they staid there. And here, sure enough, come they did, before Mrs. Jenkins had fairly pulled off her bonnet; and stay they would, though she boxed ’em well; but they didn’t mind that, and I told her Christmas come but once a year, and as it turned out, the poor things were hungry, in yearnest. And you never see children eat so; I do believe they hadn’t had a good meal for a fortnight. Well, we hadn’t got fairly seated after supper, when rap! rap! at the door, and there was Jake Crow had come for Mrs. Jenkins; for Jenkins had got into a drunken row, and had his head cut with a stick. And you never hearn sich a fuss; and Mrs. Jenkins and the little brats went home crying all the way; and here me and Belinda have been by ourselves ever since. But poor Mrs. Jenkins! I wonder men will get drunk and leave their wives and children to starve. You never get drunk, Mr. Hardesty, do you?’
‘Drunk! Madam, drunk!’ said Mr. Hardesty, placing his hand over his heart, and shaking his head emphatically. ‘No, Madam; I only get what you may call intoxicated, and not with liquor neither; and I feel it coming on me now—I do indeed!’
‘Well, well!’ replies Mrs. Sidebottom, holding up her hands in utter astonishment, ‘I never heard tell of the like of that before. P’raps its the cold, Mr. Hardesty.’
‘No, Madam,’ persisted the old gentleman; ‘it’s the heat.’
‘Dear me! Mr. Hardesty; then I’ll open the door.’ And Miss Peggy started to her feet.
‘No, my dear Madam, don’t, if you please. It ain’t this here fire in the hearth, but,’ striking his breast passionately, ‘it’s here, Madam.’
‘That’s just where Mrs. Jenkins is affected sometimes, and she says Madeira’s the best thing for it; and she has drank nearly all that last quart I got of you, Mr. Hardesty, and I don’t see as she gets any better.’
‘Madeira, indeed!’ said old Tom, scornfully. ‘Madeira, madam, instead of squenching, would only add fuel to the flame that is consuming me. There are men as takes to the bottle for it when they despair; but bless your soul!’ he continued, dropping his voice to a whisper, ‘I haven’t despaired.’
At this eloquent appeal, Mrs. Sidebottom looked at the fire and said nothing, until an audible snore from Belinda, who had fallen asleep in her chair, aroused her.
‘Bless me!’ exclaimed Miss Peggy, bouncing to her feet; ‘look at the child there! Belinda dear, wake up. Poor dear thing! you had better go up stairs to bed.’ And rubbing her eyes, the child took up a lighted candle, bowed politely to Mr. Hardesty, and disappeared behind the stair-door.
Miss Sidebottom resumed her seat and looked again at the fire, and Mr. Hardesty looked at Miss Sidebottom. Presently, that amiable lady turned her gaze, lighted as it was by an equivocal smile, full upon Tom. In the space of about fifteen seconds, after trying in vain to interpret that smile to his own satisfaction, Mr. Hardesty quailed, while his heart commenced vibrating against his ribs, as though it would burst their feeble barrier, and take refuge in his waistcoat-pocket. Miss Sidebottom, however, showed no such symptoms of alarm, and her courage rose as Tom’s fell. By the way, composure in such delicate epochs is like see-sawing; one ascends as the other descends, until perchance the weaker party fails to recover his equilibrium, and tumbles off the fence. Diffident young courtiers should remember this.
Mr. Hardesty was bewildered beyond endurance. How could a man speak more plainly? And yet he would try once more.
‘Let me tell you, my dear Miss Sidebottom, once for all, I’m–’
There was a noise of some one opening the front door, and as Mr. Hardesty turned his head, Dick entered the room.
‘Why, Dicky, where have you been this cold night?’ asked his aunt.
Dicky replied that he had been snow-balling, of which there were sufficient marks on his person. His countenance was flushed and heated, and he proceeded to say that he was tired, and wanted to go to bed.
At this Mr. Hardesty rose deliberately from his seat, saying it was time to go.
‘But, Mr. Hardesty,’ urged Miss Peggy, ‘it’s cold and snowing; stay all night there with Dicky,’ pointing to a comfortable bed in one corner. ‘I know you are delicate, and it’s snowing hard. I’ll go and see. Here Dicky,’ and she left the room followed by Dick. Mr. Hardesty looked around at the comfortable quarters offered him, and determined to remain. Scarcely had he come to this decision, when the affectionate aunt and nephew returned, the former telling him not to think of going out on such a night, and the latter assuring him it was snowing ‘like sixty.’
‘I’ll stay, Madam, and thank’ee too,’ said Mr. Hardesty, re-seating himself. Miss Peggy bade her guest a very good night, and, threatening to catch him for a Christmas gift next morning, disappeared up the stairs and locked the door after her. Tom watched her retreating figure until she disappeared, and then addressed himself