American fiction -- 20th century; Prophecies -- Fiction
“Ollie Baxter? I should say not. He ain’t got anything more to do with
running this house than I have. Why, Serepty wouldn’t let Napoleon
Bonaparte into Mrs. Baxter’s room if he was to come here in full
uniform. But don’t take my word for it. Go ahead. You might as well get
it over with. I wouldn’t any more think of going up them steps, big as I
am, without receiving orders from her, than I’d think of sticking my
head in this stove.”
“I will soon get rid of Mrs. Grimes,” said she, tossing her head.
As she started to leave the room, a loud knocking at the front door rose
above the howl of the wind. Sikes resuming his office as master of
ceremonies, pushed his way past Mrs. Gooch and opened the door to admit
a woman and two men. The first to enter the sitting-room was a tall man
wearing a thin black overcoat and a high silk hat. The former was
buttoned close about his shivering frame, the latter jammed well down
upon his ears to meet the vagaries of the tempestuous wind. This was the
Reverend Herbert Sage, pastor of the Presbyterian Church of Rumley. The
lady was his wife.
The other member of the trio, a fat, red-faced, jolly looking man of
indeterminate age, was Silas Link, the undertaker, upholsterer and
livery-man of Rumley. We encounter him now in the last-mentioned
capacity, hence his cheery grin, his loud-checked trousers and his brown
derby set jauntily over his right ear. He wore a buffalo-skin overcoat.
In his capacity as upholsterer and furniture-repairer he affected a
dusty suit of overalls of a butternut hue and wore spectacles that gave
him a solemn, owl-like expression. As an undertaker he was
irreproachably lachrymose despite his rosy cheeks, and he never
“officiated” except in a tight-fitting Prince Albert coat, a plug hat, a
white cravat and a pair of black cotton gloves. In view of the fact that
he so rarely is called upon to appear in the character of undertaker,
owing to the infrequency of emergencies, and also that we are likely to
come in contact with him a dozen times a day as a livery-man, it is only
fair to introduce him here in the most cheerful of his three rôles,
especially as we may never have occasion to call upon him for repairs.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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