Frivolities, Especially Addressed to Those Who Are Tired of Being SeriousMarsh, Richard
General
Frivolities, Especially Addressed to Those Who Are Tired of Being Serious
Marsh, Richard
Fiction; Humorous stories, English; Short stories, English
Mr. Bindon coughed modestly behind his handkerchief. He took a chair.
He continued to tell his tale with the aid of his fingers.
"First of all I looked at 'ome. There was Jane Cooper; I knew she was
in a little trouble; I asked 'er to come. There was Louisa Brown; she
was in a little trouble too, so I asked 'er. Then there was Susan
Baxter over at Basingthorpe. I always 'ad been sweet on Susan; I asked
'er too. There was one or two other gals about the countryside for
whom I'd 'ad a liking, so I asked 'em all."
"Do you mean to tell me, Mr. Bindon, that all these young women came
to you, each knowing that the other one was coming?"
"Well--not exactly. They didn't know that they all was coming till
they all was there."
"And then?"
"Well, there was little differences just at first. But they settled
down; they settled down. They 'ad a way in Salt Lake City, in them
days, of getting the women to settle down. Well, Mr. 'arland, I got
on! I got on! I got wives and children, and then more wives and more
children. Some of the wives was widdies, and they brought children of
their own. So we grew and multiplied, and all went well--till
persecution came."
"Persecution?"
"You know, Mr. 'arland, we always 'ad 'ad enemies--the Saints! They
was against the Peculiar Institootion."
"Wholesale marrying?"
Mr. Bindon only sighed.
"By degrees things got warm for us, especially for me. I was a
prominent member of the Church, and they went for me special because
they said I had so many wives."
"May I ask, Mr. Bindon, how many wives you had?"
"That's more than I can say, Mr. 'arland, more than I can say. It's a
little complicated. There's some you're married to, and some you're
sealed to, and some you're on the point of being sealed to, and there
you are. When I first went out, marrying was the surest way of getting
on. But, by degrees, marrying didn't pay. There was a talk of bigamy.
There was threats of bringing me before the Gentile courts."
Mr. Bindon paused. He drew his silk handkerchief two or three times
across his brow. Again he sighed.
"Ah, Mr. 'arland, there 'adn't never been in my 'ousehold that perfect
peace there ought to have been. There was complications. It's a long
story, and it's no use going into it now, but there they was. I kep'
'em under--with great care, I kep' 'em under until persecution came.
Then keep 'em under I could not, try 'ow I might. There was, Mr.
'arland, I tell you plainly, there was ructions. I've been struck, Mr.
'arland, struck! by my own wives. They knocked me down one day, some
on 'em, and stamped on me. It ain't all beer and skittles, married
life, especially when you don't know 'ow many wives you 'as, and most
of 'em 'as tempers."
Again Mr. Bindon paused to wipe his brow. It needed it. As he
continued to unfold his narrative he was in a constant state of
perspiration.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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