The Wooing of Calvin ParksRichards, Laura Elizabeth Howe
General
The Wooing of Calvin Parks
Richards, Laura Elizabeth Howe
Courtship -- Fiction; Maine -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Mate selection -- Fiction
He looked earnestly at the house, which seemed to give him a friendly
look in return; a large, comfortable yellow house, with windows of
cheerful inquiry, and a door that came as near smiling as a door can.
Two huge elms mounted guard over it, and touched tips with a group of
splendid willows that clustered round the ample barnyard; the front yard
was green and smooth, with a neat flagstone path; a vast and
friendly-looking dog lay on the broad door-step; everything about the
place looked comfortable and sociable.
"If that ain't a pictur'," said Calvin Parks, "I never see one, that's
all."
He drove into the yard, and clambered rather slowly out of his wagon. He
was a tall, light-limbed, active-looking man, but the wheels seemed to
be in his way.
"I never shall get used to this rig," he muttered; "I'd ought to have a
rope and tayckle to hi'st me out."
He cast a disapproving look at the wagon, and hurried toward the house.
The vast dog rose, shook himself, yawned, and sniffed approvingly at his
trousers.
"That's right, son!" said Calvin. "A friend is a friend, in pants or
tails! Now let's see where the boys be. I must wipe my feet good,
though, or I shall have the old lady after me!"
He opened the front door; and after casting a look of friendly
recognition round the hall, tapped on the door at his left.
"Come in!" said a voice.
"Sam!" said Calvin Parks; and he stepped into the room.
"How are you, Sam?" he began. "How are you--why, where's Sim?" he added
in an altered tone. "Where's your Ma?"
A little man in snuff-brown clothes, with a red flannel waistcoat, came
forward.
"Calvin Parks," he said, "don't tell me this is you!"
"I won't!" said Calvin. "I'll tell you it's old John Tyseed if that'll
do you any good. What I want to know is, where's the rest of you? Don't
tell me there's anything happened to your Ma and Sim, Sam Sill!"
The little man cast a curious look toward a door that stood ajar not
far from where he sat. He was silent a moment, and then said in a half
whisper, "Ma is gone, Calvin!"
"Gone!" repeated the visitor. "What do you mean by gone?"
"Dead!" said the little man. "Departed. No more."
"Sho!" said Calvin Parks. "Is that so? Well, I'm sorry to hear it, Sam!
And I'm--well, astounded is the word. Your Ma gone! Well, now! she was
one, somehow or other of it, never seemed as if she _could_ go."
"I expect," said Mr. Samuel Sill in the same subdued tone, "she is with
the blessed;" he reflected a moment, and added, "and with father!"
"To be sure! naturally!" said Calvin Parks reassuringly. "How long since
you laid her away, Sam?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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