The House: An Episode in the Lives of Reuben Baker, Astronomer, and of His Wife, AliceField, Eugene
General
The House: An Episode in the Lives of Reuben Baker, Astronomer, and of His Wife, Alice
Field, Eugene
Home ownership -- Fiction; Humorous stories
I admit that I, too, was much perturbed. I contemplated with
indignation the lawless impudence of the fellow who had broken into our
barn, and who had subsequently threatened violence to the carpenter for
expostulating against this act of trespass. At the same time I could
not stifle a feeling of pity for the homeless being who doubtless found
the bed upon our barn floor as grateful as the downy couch of a Persian
potentate. Nor could I stifle the conviction that it was a piece of
miserable greediness on my part to deny this friendless and penniless
wanderer the humble shelter he craved.
In fact I presently became so ashamed of the part I was taking in these
proceedings that but for my regard for Alice's feelings I would have
packed the carpenter off home and left the barn open to the tramp and
all his kind. As it was my conscience gave me no rest until I had
induced neighbor Tiltman to extract the cartridges from the pistol,
which service he did so cleverly that the carpenter knew nothing about
it, and continued to bluster and bloviate like a dragoon on dress
parade.
The tramp did not return that night, and I was glad he did not, for it
would have spoiled our new premises for me had any act of violence been
committed thereupon. The experience, however, alarmed Alice to such an
extent that she determined to employ a private watchman to guard the
premises by night until we occupied them. She told me at supper the
next evening that for this purpose she had secured the services of a
poor but honest man who had called that day seeking employment.
"You don't mean to tell me, my dear," said I, "that you have intrusted
this responsible duty to a person who is in the habit of travelling
from house to house, asking alms!"
"I guess I know an honest man when I see him," said Alice, "and I know
this man is honest, if there is such a thing as an honest man."
Alice went on to say that her protege was an old soldier; that he had
wept when he told of his unrequited services for his country, and of
the ingratitude which he had experienced when his application for a
pension was denied by the unfeeling authorities at Washington. Alice
said she had never met with a more civil-spoken person, and he must
indeed have impressed her most favorably, for she advanced him fifty
cents on account.
We slept securely that night, for Alice's assurances made me confident
that under the new watchman's sleepless vigilance all would be safe on
the Schmittheimer premises. But about seven o'clock next morning there
was a rude outcry, and there came a terrible banging at our front door.
Looking out into the street we saw the carpenter with a very sorry
specimen of manhood in custody. The carpenter was flourishing neighbor
Tiltman's unloaded pistol and threatening to blow his prisoner's brains
out.
"I caught him asleep in the barn!" cried the carpenter, excitedly.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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