The Abandoned Farmers: His Humorous Account of a Retreat from the City to the FarmCobb, Irvin S. (Irvin Shrewsbury)
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The Abandoned Farmers: His Humorous Account of a Retreat from the City to the Farm
Cobb, Irvin S. (Irvin Shrewsbury)
Farms -- Recreational use -- United States -- Fiction; Humorous stories
The major at once betrayed himself as such a person. He introduced
himself, adding that as a neighbor he had felt it incumbent to call.
I removed a couple of the family portraits and a collection of Indian
relics and a few kitchen utensils, and one thing and another, from the
seat of a chair, and begged him to sit down and make himself at home,
which he did. He accepted a cigar, which I fished out of a humidor
temporarily tucked away beneath a roll of carpet; and we spoke of the
weather, to which he gave a qualified and cautious indorsement. Then,
without further delay, he hitched his chair over and laid a paternal
hand upon my arm.
“I hear you've got Blank, the lawyer, searching out the title to your
propputty here.”
“Yes,” I said; “Mr. Blank took the matter in hand for us. Fine man,
isn't he?”
“Well, some people think so,” he said with an emphasis of profound
significance.
“Doesn't everybody think so?” I inquired. “Listen,” he said; “my motto
is, Live and let live. And, anyhow, I'm the last man in the world to go
round prejudicing a newcomer against an old resident. Now I've just met
you and, on the other hand, I've known Blank all my life; in fact, we're
sort of related by marriage--a relative of his married a relative of
my wife's. So, of course, I've got nothing to say to you on that
score except this--and I'm going to say it to you now in the strictest
confidence--if I was doing business with Blank I'd be mighty, mighty
careful, young man.”
“You astonish me,” I said. “Mr. So-and-So”--naming a prominent business
man of the county seat--“recommended his firm to me.”
“Oh, So-and-So, eh? I wonder what the understanding between those two
is? Probably they've hatched up something.”
“Why, isn't So-and-So above suspicion?” I asked. “I wouldn't say he was
and I wouldn't say he wasn't. But, just between you and me, I'd think
twice about taking any advice he gave me. They tell me you've let the
contract for some work to Dash & Space?”
“Yes; I gave them one small job.”
“Too bad!”
“What's too bad?”
“You'll be finding out for yourself before you're done; so I won't say
anything more on that subject neither. I could tell you a good deal
about those fellows if I was a-mind to; but I never believed in
repeating anything behind a man's back I wouldn't say to his face. Live
and let live!--that's my motto. Anyhow, if you've already signed up with
Dash & Space it's too late for you to be backing out--but keep your eyes
open, young man; keep your eyes wide open. Who's your architect going to
be?”
I told him. He repeated the name in rather a disappointed fashion.
“Never heard of him,” he admitted; “but I take it he's like the run of
his kind of people. I never yet saw the architect that I'd trust as far
as I could sling him by the coat-tails. Say, ain't that Bink's delivery
wagon standing over yonder in front of your stable?”
“I think so. We've been buying some things from Bink.”
“You've opened up a regular account with him, then?”
“Yes.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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