*~~-- 
 
 I/PARADIS& 
 
 
 
Stuart 
 
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 The above nine volumes, uniform, $12.50. 
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 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. i6mo, paper, 50 cents. 
 THE TROTTY BOOK. For Young Folks. Illustrated. 
 
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 HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO. 
 
 BOSTON AND NEW YORK. 
 
OLD MAIDS, AND BURGLARS 
 IN PARADISE 
 
 BY 
 
 ELIZABETH STUART PHELPS 
 
 BOSTON AND NEW YORK 
 HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY 
 
 1887 
 
Copyright, 1885, 1886, and 1887, 
 BY ELIZABETH STUAllT PHELPS. 
 
 u4// rights reserved. 
 
 The Riverside Press, Cambridge : 
 Electrotyped and Printed by II. Houghton & Co. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PART L AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. PA6E 
 
 I. THE PROSPECT 5 
 
 II. IN PLAN 11 
 
 III. BUILDING 29 
 
 IV. POSSESSION ....... 49 
 
 V. INSIDE AND OUT. ALONE .... 64 
 
 VI. MATTHEW ARNOLD 80 
 
 VII. MARY . . .. 95 
 
 VIII. HOUSE-WARMING . . . . . . Ill 
 
 IX. HALF MAST . . . . . . .129 
 
 X. ZERO . . . ... . . . 148 
 
 XI. THE SERPENT . .... . .163 
 
 XII. THE FLAMING SWORD 181 
 
 PART II. BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 I. THE RUMOR . . . ... . 5 
 
 II. THE SCARE ....... 22 
 
 III. GOOD FAMILY HORSES . . . .40 
 
 IV. THE LADY OF SHALOTT . . . 62 
 V. FEE-FI-FUM AND I. 0. U. . . . . 81 
 
 VI. THE BURGLARY 99 
 
 VII MR. PUSHETT 117 
 
 M321453 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 VIII. THE STATE WILL PROTECT .... 137 
 
 IX. MESSRS. HIDE AND SEEK 155 
 
 JUDAS JOLIUS 172 
 
 WHAT is CALLED FRIENDSHIP .... 190 
 
 XII. RECEIPTED BILL .... 205 
 
PART I. 
 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 
 
 I. 
 
 IN PROSPECT. 
 
 " I WANT " said Corona. 
 
 Torn and Susy looked up. Corona did 
 not often say she wanted anything. Susy 
 thought this natural. Was it not enough to 
 live in the house with Tom ? But Tom had 
 never thought anything about it. 
 
 " I want " began Corona again ; and 
 then she stopped. What did she want ? Her 
 thoughts were vagabonds. They roamed 
 a great way from Tom and Susy at that 
 moment. They were a lawless, disorgan 
 ized, hungry horde. 
 
 " Nothing for tramps ! " said Corona, 
 severely. But she did not say it aloud. 
 
PA R A DI SE. 
 
 She took up the grape-scissors thoughtfully ; 
 she showed a slight contraction between a 
 pair of well-controlled, charitable gray eyes, 
 and snipped the Malagas leisurely upon her 
 plate, before she said, - 
 
 " I want a home." 
 
 Tom laid down his nut-pick and Susy the 
 baby. It took quite a shock to make Susy 
 put down the baby. Corona colored. Tom 
 was her own brother ; but Susy was the 
 mother of her niece. 
 
 "Give her to me!" cried Corona, hur 
 riedly. " She s putting up her lip. You ve 
 hurt her feelings. And oh ! Susy, don t 
 mind me a bit, and Torn, you ve always 
 done everything ; but, Susy, the baby won t 
 cry for me more than a day or two, and, 
 Tom, you must see that to have a place of 
 your own " 
 
 " Get married ; " said Tom. 
 
 " I can t afford to support a husband, till 
 the panic is over." 
 
 "Write a book," said Susy. "It will 
 divert your mind. You re morbid. The 
 
IN PROSPECT. 7 
 
 baby has kept you awake too much this 
 winter. I ll take her to-night." 
 
 " Experience with three poems, two Sun 
 day-school books, one obituary, and one let 
 ter to ( The Transcript, " said Corona, calm 
 ly, measuring off these articles in shag-barks 
 on the table-cloth, " has not encouraged me 
 to pursue a literary life. If there had not 
 happened to be such a press of matter every 
 time, it might have been different. The 
 editors regretted it exceedingly, Susy; and 
 the manuscripts are in the hair trunk in the 
 inner attic." 
 
 "Go to college," suggested Tom. " There s 
 Boston University." 
 
 "I am thirty-six years old," said Corona, 
 sadly. 
 
 " Go into business, then," cried Tom, des 
 perately. " I 11 furnish half the capital. I 
 always said you were the better business 
 man of us two. Come ! " 
 
 " Tom," replied Corona, faintly, " was it 
 you who inherited father s sick-headaches ? 
 If I did not have one every week, however, 
 perhaps " 
 
8 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 " I give it up," said Tom, after a pause. 
 
 " I think if I did not let you draw baby 
 about so much/ observed Susy, with a ju 
 dicial expression ; " and she is growing so 
 cunning ! And we meant to put something 
 Eastlake into your room this spring. Did 
 n t we, Tom ? But we were going to wait 
 for a surprise, till you got home from 
 Aunt Anna Maria s. Besides, Coro, if you 
 are not contented in your present way of 
 life, you could make yourself very useful 
 by showing a little more interest in the 
 Widow s Mite, or the Reform Club, and the 
 sewing-circle, you know " 
 
 When matters got around to the sewing- 
 circle, argument ceased to be a sane method 
 of conducting conversation. Susy s mind 
 was so constructed. Corona sighed. But 
 Tom interrupted : 
 
 " There are depths of human nature, Sue, 
 which even the sewing-circle will not fill. 
 Let Coro alone. If she wants to go, go 
 she shall. Why should n t she ? We went 
 ourselves. You didn t stay because your 
 
JN PROSPECT. 9 
 
 mother wanted help in scouring the pre 
 
 serves." 
 
 " Scouring preserves ? " began Susy. 
 But Tom laughed and left. 
 
 From beyond the front door he heard 
 Susy talking ; but it was a mild, safe chat 
 ter, something about marmalade. It was 
 clear that her mind was temporarily diverted 
 in a sweet direction. 
 
 Tom had that amount of profound respect 
 for his wife which is involved in a well- 
 assured and well-controlled conjugal affec 
 tion of several years hard use. Still, the 
 sight of Susy giving advice to Corona was 
 something which he never found himself 
 able to witness with that gravity which his 
 ideal of his wife demanded. 
 
 Coro slid after him. She wore slippers 
 without heels. It was one of her " ways." 
 Her footfall dropped at his side without 
 noise, and he started when she touched him 
 on the elbow. 
 
 " Co, what do you look like that for ? 1 
 understand." 
 
10 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 " You don t mind, Tom, dear, a bit ? " 
 
 " Not a mind," said Tom. " Where will 
 you build it, Coro? On Fifth Avenue, 
 Pike s Peak, or out in my garden ? I 11 
 lease you a lot. Come ! " 
 
 " If you do understand," said Corona, 
 hastily, " then there is no difficulty in the 
 way. Nothing is hard in the world but 
 hurting people s feelings." 
 
 " Perhaps not," said Tom, " unless you 
 count in starving, or death at the stake, or 
 a codfish breakfast, or a few such things. 
 But don t you bother, Co. Go ahead. I 11 
 stand by you." 
 
 " Tom," replied Corona, " I d like to kiss 
 you." 
 
 She did not often. At least, she did not 
 often say so. Tom and Corona had never 
 been of " the kissing kind." He took off 
 his hat he was in a hurry, too and they 
 kissed one another so gravely that Tom was 
 quite embarrassed. But that was not till 
 afterward, when he thought of it. 
 
II. 
 
 IN PLAN. 
 
 CORONA had five hundred dollars and 
 some pluck to spare for her enterprise. She 
 had also at her command a trifle for furnish 
 ing. But that seemed very small capital. 
 Her friends at large discouraged her gen 
 erously. Even Tom said he did n t know 
 about that, and offered her three hundred 
 more. 
 
 This manly offer she declined in a wom 
 anly manner. 
 
 " It is to be my house, thank you, Tom, 
 dear. I can live in yours at home." 
 
 Susy said that never would allow for a 
 closet for the bedding ; and one lady, a 
 neighbor, unmarried and past sixty, asked 
 if Corona were sure it was proper. 
 
 "Proper?" said Coro, looking puzzled. 
 
12 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 " Why, to live by yourself so. It is so 
 so unusual ; so outre. And you re not 
 even literary. A literary person can do 
 anything." 
 
 " So can a lady/ said Coro, shortly. The 
 ancient neighbor had begun to say " I 
 could n t ; " but checked herself upon re 
 ceiving this reply, and went away indefi 
 nitely offended. She forgave Corona, how 
 ever, in the fulness of time, so far as to 
 make her a red flannel pincushion, orna 
 mented in a rectangular design with white 
 porcelain buttons. 
 
 " So far as I can see," observed Corona, 
 thoughtfully, " the first thing I shall need 
 
 is a man." 
 
 " What did I tell you? " asked Tom. 
 
 " But I meant an architect, or or a 
 carpenter, or a plumber, or that kind of 
 a man," said Corona, with gravity. She 
 would n t give Tom the satisfaction of laugh 
 ing at his poor joke. 
 
 Corona s architectural library was small. 
 She found on the top shelf one book on the 
 
IN PLAN. 13 
 
 construction of chicken-roosts, a pamphlet 
 in explanation of the kindergarten system, 
 a cook-book that had belonged to her grand 
 mother, and a treatise on crochet. There 
 her domestic literature came to an end. 
 She accordingly bought a book entitled 
 " North American Homes ; " then, having, in 
 addition, begged or borrowed everything 
 within two covers relating to architecture 
 that was to be found in her immediate circle 
 of acquaintance, she plunged into that unfa 
 miliar science with hopeful zeal. 
 
 The result of her studies was a mixed 
 one. It was necessary, it seemed, to con 
 struct the North American home in so many 
 contradictory methods, or else fail forever of 
 life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, 
 that Corona felt herself to be laboring under 
 a chronic aberration of mind. No sooner 
 had she mastered the theory which required 
 one to believe that a brick house was the 
 only one which any person with a claim to 
 average American (not to say North Ameri 
 can) intelligence would ever for an instant 
 
14 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 contemplate building, than she was gradu 
 ally and gently convinced that the sole ra 
 tional material was w r ood. As soon as she 
 had resigned herself to wood, it was made 
 perfectly clear to her that wood took fire, 
 and that bricks were red, and that to build 
 anything but a gray stone house was artis 
 tically false, economically untrue, and mor 
 ally wrong. 
 
 Then, again, with roofs. Roofs, it seemed, 
 must be flat, or else the builder ; French, or 
 you might as well go without ; this, that, or 
 the other, or die. Corona seemed to have 
 entered a new world, like a person Avho is 
 spending his vacation in the wrong place. 
 She had never thought about roofs before, 
 except in a gentle, abstract, and entirely 
 uncontroversial manner, as A Roof. She 
 found herself abashed at first by the fever 
 of low curiosity into which her accumulated 
 wisdom threw her. When she took her in 
 nocent morning walk abroad, how many 
 eaves she saw ! Her neighbors were tick 
 eted off by an instinct of which, as soon as 
 
IN PLAN. 15 
 
 it ceased to be controllable, she almost 
 ceased (like other varieties of sinner at the 
 same descent of moral surrender) to be 
 ashamed. Thus, 
 
 " Mrs. Jones, hipped. Mr. McGee, lean-to. 
 Tom Sizlewort, French; slate; top-heavy. 
 Mrs. Plating, gravel-and-tar. The Wigginses, 
 leak like the Deluge." And so on. 
 
 When she had spent a fortnight in pur 
 suing her studies in this faithful way, it 
 occurred to Corona that the Architectural 
 Manual, considered as a class, was not inti 
 mately attentive to the needs of persons of 
 limited means. She had become very much 
 interested in accounts of several houses, 
 which ran somewhat in this manner : 
 
 " Having selected your location, which 
 must be perfectly airy, light, and clean ; on 
 top of a hill, yet without a toilsome ascent 
 (which drives away visitors and offends the 
 coachman), or else in the lowlands, where 
 you are sure of a fresh mountain breeze 
 every afternoon ; not so near the city as to 
 incur heavy taxes, yet with horse-cars pass- 
 
16 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 ing the door once in ten minutes ; not so 
 far in the country as to be dependent upon 
 the New England village snow-shovel, yet 
 far enough to secure fresh milk and cream 
 from your own cow three times a day ; at 
 least within five minutes walk of steam- 
 cars, yet not so near as to be disturbed by 
 the vicinity of the half-hour gravel trains 
 which it is customary for most of our New 
 England roads to run at night in the sum 
 mer months; a location, above all, suffi 
 ciently dry to secure your children from 
 pulmonary affections, while yet a sea-breeze 
 at two o clock in the afternoon is indispen 
 sable to comfort for at least a third of the 
 Massachusetts year having selected your 
 location with care, proceed to build upon it, 
 we will say, a modest house, of not more 
 than twenty rooms, small barn, a well-curb, 
 and a French roof. The house might be 
 constructed in the Queen Anne style, and 
 fitted out with Elizabethan furniture, at a 
 very reasonable rate. The morning sun 
 should fall into the four sides of the house 3 - 
 
IN PLAN. 17 
 
 the afternoon sun at least into three. This 
 should be insisted upon, even if you dispense 
 with the Chinese hen-house and the Fayal 
 drain-pipe, which we recommend for this 
 style of residence. 
 
 " Such a house can be built for not more 
 than nineteen thousand dollars at the out 
 side. Necessary improvements on the, 
 grounds can be deferred till the following 
 year." 
 
 Or, again : " We will suppose that you 
 are limited both in your price and in your 
 choice of location ; that your house must be 
 as much as twenty miles out in the country, 
 and in entire accordance with your means 
 and style of living, which, we will say, are 
 small and quiet. Purchase a lot two hun 
 dred by two hundred, near post-office, rail 
 way, telegraph, apothecary, doctor, butcher, 
 baker, candlestick - maker, town - hall, and 
 church. It is especially necessary to obtain 
 these conditions in the country. Select 
 quiet neighbors, since your lot is small. 
 Avoid gossips and people who keep many 
 
18 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 hens, because of their crowing if you keep 
 a light burning all night, which in the coun 
 try it is always safe to do, on account of 
 burglars. 
 
 " You want, we will suppose, thirteen 
 rooms and a gambrel roof. You will need 
 two of the No. 1 Magee furnaces and a 
 chaise-house. Your coachman should have 
 a room finished off in the chaise-house, and 
 an L should be devoted to the house-ser 
 vants. The horse you can board at the 
 hotel until by prudence and economy you 
 have saved enough to build a mediaeval 
 barn. Until you can build a mediaeval barn, 
 your own good taste will prompt you to go 
 without any. It will be necessary to pro 
 vide gas and water all over the house, if 
 you wish to retain your servants. You will 
 require a finished stone wall all around your 
 lot, to keep out cows and the lower circles of 
 society. Your dog-kennels might be after 
 the antique, and still leave room for a bor 
 der of sunflowers and a few amateur vege 
 tables. It is always necessary to keep two 
 
IN PLAN. 19 
 
 large dogs in the country, on account of 
 tramps. Also chains at each outside door 
 and a brace of pistols. A Corinthian cupola 
 would be in excellent taste, to finish off this 
 house. If the house be of wood, a delicate 
 salmon tint with green blinds will give a 
 fine Doric effect. A small fountain playing 
 through tin calla lilies in the front yard, a 
 statuette or so, and an Ionic gate will com 
 plete what you will find to be a most favor 
 able and harmonious impression. 
 
 " For such a house we would recommend 
 that the kitchen chairs be not less than two 
 hundred years old ; while the other rooms 
 are furnished purely in the Anglo-Saxon 
 manner, with a Norman staircase and Van 
 dal ceilings. By no means omit a Japanese 
 museum, which should not be encased, as 
 in ruder times, but scattered generously all 
 over the house at convenient intervals. In 
 place of pictures, hang your walls with blue 
 crockery, as much nicked as possible. 
 
 " The most recherche ornaments for a par 
 lor table are cracked tea-cups of a great 
 
20 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 age. A blue China monster, at least three 
 feet high, must stand in the front hall. 
 This has a particularly Buddhist effect. We 
 have perhaps encroached a little upon the 
 domain of the decorator in these hints ; but 
 the reader will not be ungrateful for any 
 instruction which will enable him to make 
 a really grotesque and graceful house. 
 
 " Such a house as this (without the blue 
 monster or other furniture) can be built for 
 eight thousand five hundred dollars. Your 
 land may cost you a couple of thousand 
 more." 
 
 Corona was much impressed and de 
 pressed by these and many similar descrip 
 tions. She found no American house which 
 came within her modest means. Her five 
 hundred dollars would scarcely build a 
 Gothic wood-shed, much less the Buddhist 
 effect. And neither a blue monster, nor a 
 coachman, nor a situation where the chil 
 dren would be free from pulmonary com 
 plaints seemed to have a vital connection 
 with her immediate and personal needs. 
 
IN PLAN. 21 
 
 Then the plans. Well, the plans, it must 
 be confessed, Corona did find it difficult 
 to understand. She always had found it 
 difficult to understand such things ; but then 
 she had hoped several weeks of close archi 
 tectural study would shed light upon the 
 density of the subject. She grew quite 
 morbid about it. She counted the steps 
 when she went up-stairs to bed at night. 
 She estimated the bedroom post when she 
 waked in the cold gray dawn. At mid 
 night, when it stormed, she lay wondering 
 if the poet s roof in the " long unhappy 
 night, when the rain was on " it, were slate, 
 or tar-and-gravel, or if he could afford hon 
 est shingles and dormer windows. 
 
 But the most perplexing thing about the 
 plan was how one story ever got upon 
 another. Corona s imagination never fully 
 grappled with this fact, although her intel 
 lect accepted it. She took her books down 
 stairs one night, and Susy came and looked 
 them over. 
 
 " Why, these houses are all one-story," 
 
22 
 
 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 said Susy. " Besides, they re nothing but 
 lines, anyway. I shouldn t draw a house 
 so." 
 
 Corona laughed with some embarrassment 
 and no effort at enlightenment. She was 
 not used to finding herself and Susy so 
 nearly on the same intellectual level as in 
 this instance. She merely asked : " How 
 should you draw it ? " 
 
 " Why, so," said Susy, after some severe 
 thought. So she took her little blunt lead 
 pencil, that the baby had chewed, and drew 
 her plan as follows : 
 
 SUSY S PLAN. 
 
 Roof 
 
 Guest 
 
 Closet 
 
 Our 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Room 
 
 Bedding 
 
 Room 
 
 ~~ ^_^ 
 
 Parlor 
 
 ! 
 
 Dining 
 
 Kitchen 
 
 
 ! 
 
 Room 
 
 Ell 
 
 Nursery and your room behind. 
 
 Corona made no comment upon this plan, 
 except to ask Susy if that were the way to 
 spell L ; and then to look in the dictionary, 
 
IN PLAN. 23 
 
 and find that it was not spelled at all. Tom 
 came in, and asked to see what they were 
 doing. 
 
 " I m helping Corona," said Susy, with 
 much complacency. " These architects 
 things don t look any more like houses than 
 they do like the first proposition in Euclid ; 
 and the poor girl is puzzled." 
 
 "/ // help you to-morrow, Co," said Tom, 
 who was in too much of a hurry to glance 
 at his wife s plan. But to-morrow Tom 
 went into town by the early train, and when 
 Corona emerged from her " North American 
 Homes," with wild eye and knotted brow, at 
 5 o clock p. M., she found Susy crying over 
 a telegram, which ran : 
 
 Called to California immediately. Those lost 
 cargoes A No. 1 hides turned up. Can t get 
 home to say good-by. Send overcoat and flan 
 nels by Simpson on midnight express. Gone four 
 
 weeks. Love to all. 
 
 TOM. 
 
 This unexpected event threw Corona en 
 tirely upon her own resources; and, after a 
 
24 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 few days more of patient research, she put 
 on her hat, and stole away at dusk to a 
 builder she knew of down-town a nice, 
 fatherly man, who had once built a piazza 
 for Tom and had just been elected super 
 intendent of the Sunday-school. These 
 combined facts gave Corona confidence to 
 trust her case to his hands. She carried a 
 neat little plan of her own with her, the 
 result of several days hard labor. Susy s 
 plan she had taken the precaution to cut 
 into paper dolls for the baby. Corona found 
 the good man at home, and in her most 
 business-like manner presented her points. 
 
 " Got any plan in yer own head ? " asked 
 the builder, hearing her in silence. In si 
 lence Corona laid before him the paper 
 which had cost her so much toil. 
 
 It was headed in her clear black hand : 
 
 PLAN 
 FOR A SMALL HUT HAPPY 
 
 HOME. 
 This was 
 
IN PLAN. 
 
 25 
 
 CORONA S PLAN. 
 
 GROUND FLOOR. 
 
 Back 
 Door. 
 
 w Library 
 
 ^ / 
 
 w 
 Kitchen * 
 
 Door 
 
 
 Door 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 X 
 
 
 HaU 
 
 
 w Parlor 
 
 ^ 
 
 Dining Boom w , 
 
 f w 
 
 Front 
 Door. 
 
 w 
 
 w Bedroom \ 
 
 Hall 
 
 vr 
 / Bedroom w 
 
 w Bedroom > 
 w 
 
 V Bedroom w 
 w 
 
 SECOND FLOOR. 
 
26 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 " Well/ said the builder, after a silence, 
 " well, I ve seen worse." 
 
 " Thank you," said Corona, faintly. 
 
 " How does she set?" asked the builder. 
 
 "Who set?" said Corona, a little wildly. 
 She could think of nothing that set but 
 hens. 
 
 " Why, the house. Where s the points o 
 compass ? " 
 
 "I hadn t thought of those," said 
 Corona. 
 
 " And the chimney," suggested the 
 builder. " Where s your chimneys ? " 
 
 " I did n t put in any chimneys," said 
 Corona. 
 
 " Where do you count on your stairs ? " 
 pursued the builder. 
 
 " Stairs ? I forgot the stairs." 
 
 "That s natural," said Mr. Timbers. 
 " Had a plan brought me once without an 
 entry or a window to it. It was n t a 
 woman did it, neither. It was a widower, 
 in the noospaper line. What s your scale ? " 
 
 " Scale ? " asked Corona, without anima 
 tion. 
 
IN PLAN. 27 
 
 "Scale of feet. Proportions." 
 
 " Oh ! I did n t have any scales, but I 
 thought about forty feet front would do. I 
 have but five hundred dollars. A small 
 house must answer." 
 
 The builder smiled. He said he would 
 show her some plans. He took a book from 
 his table and opened at a plate representing 
 a small, snug cottage, not uncomely. It 
 stood in a flourishing apple orchard, and a 
 much larger house appeared dimly in the 
 distance, upon a hill. The cottage was 
 what is called a " story-and-half " and con 
 tained six rooms. The plan was drawn 
 with the beauty of science. 
 
 "There," said Mr. Timbers, "I know a 
 lady built one of those upon her brother-in- 
 law s land. He give her the land, and she 
 just put up the cottage, and they was all as 
 pleasant as pease about it. That s about 
 what I d recommend to you, if you don t 
 object to the name of it." 
 
 " What is the matter with the name ? " 
 asked Corona. 
 
28 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 "Why," said the builder, hesitating, "it 
 is called the Old Maid s House in the 
 book." 
 
 " Mr. Timbers," said Corona, with decis 
 ion, " why should we seek further than the 
 truth ? I will have that house. Pray draw 
 me the plan at once." 
 
III. 
 
 BUILDING. 
 
 CORONA had now decided to build Let 
 house, and how to build it. She had also 
 concluded to build at once. These points 
 were clear and simple. But another re 
 mained. One day Susy said, carelessly, 
 " I forgot to ask you where ? " and Corona 
 said, " Where what ? " 
 
 " Where you are going to have your 
 house, Sweetens-eetens-eet ! Was she petsy 
 Mamma s pet ounlydountytweetens ! " said 
 Susy. 
 
 These latter remarks Corona recognized, 
 from their high intellectual nature and 
 great perspicacity of construction, as not 
 addressed personally so much to herself as 
 to the baby ; who was amiably striking her 
 mother in the face at that moment with 
 
30 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 both fists clenched in an engaging manner 
 peculiar to her species. 
 
 Corona replied that she was hesitating 
 between Patagonia and Alaska. 
 
 " Be sure and get near enough for us to 
 drive," vaguely suggested Susy, who never 
 heard anything anybody said when the baby 
 was more interesting than usual. 
 
 " It won t make any more real difference 
 to them than that ! " said Corona to her 
 self, in that bitter little mental aside in 
 which the sweetest and sunniest people liv 
 ing the solitary life will indulge now and 
 then. 
 
 So far as is clearly known, perhaps, this 
 was the moment in which she decided to 
 build in Fairharbor. 
 
 Fairharbor is in Massachusetts. Corona 
 had spent several seasons there, in the un 
 certain capacity of " summer folks " and 
 " perm nent boarder." Her experience with 
 landladies had been large, varied, and pa 
 thetic, and just as she had found one to 
 whom she thought she could be happy to 
 
BUILDING. 31 
 
 return year by year, the excellent woman 
 - like other people who have reached an 
 unusual pitch of sanctification died. 
 
 Yet what were summer without the sea, 
 its purpose, its passion, its rapture ? 
 
 " I will build my house," said Corona, " in 
 Fairharbor." 
 
 And so it was settled. To be sure, Susy 
 said she did not see how Corona could de 
 cide anything so important while Torn was 
 away. But, nevertheless, it was settled. 
 
 Corona went on to Fairharbor with the 
 builder, to select and lease her land. When 
 I say that it was March, I need add noth 
 ing about the weather. Corona felt very 
 independent and very cold. She and the 
 builder stood together on the cliff-side which 
 she had chosen, and yelled at one another 
 through the thunder of the wind and surf. 
 
 " Beautiful view ! " screamed Corona, try 
 ing to look rapturously upon the familiar 
 outlines of sea and harbor, shore, and town, 
 and sky, beating about there now, sullenly 
 and confused in the untamed air. 
 
32 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 " Just so ! " cried the builder. " I would n t 
 have it more n fifty- two, if I was you." 
 
 " I said a lovely vie-ew-ew ! " shrieked 
 Corona. 
 
 " Oh ! yes. S pose it is. Yes. Thought 
 you referred to the proportions. Land be 
 ing skerce and high. Fifty-two feet square 
 ought to do you, I should say. Have to 
 chain her, though." 
 
 " Chain who ? " (It was too cold to sur 
 render force to grammar.) 
 
 " Why, the house." 
 
 Chain to what ? " 
 
 " Why, the rock." 
 
 "What for?" 
 
 Corona had approached the builder, strug 
 gling against the " storm," as she had long 
 since learned from Fairharborians to call the 
 wind that came without the rain. 
 , "Well," said the builder, "I don t wish 
 to be discouragin . T know ladies will have 
 notions about views and lo-cations. It s to 
 be expected. Bat this spot you ve chose is 
 the most exposed of any I can perspect in 
 
BUILDING. 33 
 
 Fairharbor. If you don t chain yourself to 
 the rock, you may find yourself down on 
 the beach yonder some mornin . But I 
 wouldn t wish to be discouraging. And if 
 you chain her, she can t." 
 
 " Mr. Timbers," said Corona, decidedly, 
 "I object to living in a chained house. I 
 should feel as if my house were my slave, 
 and not my friend. I want my house to be 
 my best friend." 
 
 " Eh ! " said Mr. Timbers, with a quick, 
 intelligent smile. " So ye may ; so ye may. 
 I understand. Houses are like folks. They 
 like to be petted and made of. She don t 
 want to be neglected, a house don t. Now, 
 when you close em and leave em, a house 
 feels it. A house degenerates and runs to 
 wrack twice as soon as if t was wore by 
 livin in it. Just as it is with persons. 
 They degenerate if they live alone too long. 
 Yes, houses are like folks ; but chains won t 
 hurt her. She won t mind." 
 
 " I shall, if she does n t," returned Corona, 
 persistently. " We must find a spot where 
 
34 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 my house will be contented to stay of its 
 own free will." 
 
 When they had wandered about in the 
 wind and discussed the matter till Corona 
 was quite hoarse, when she had pointed out 
 to the builder all the locations which she 
 liked, and when the builder had raised in 
 superable objections to every one, Corona 
 suggested that if he could find a place not 
 too windy nor too sunny, too hard, too soft, 
 too wet, too dry, too anything, he should 
 select the spot himself and put the house on 
 it at once. 
 
 " All I ask is permission to live in it," 
 said Corona, meekly. " Do as you like. I 
 shall perish if I stay here another minute, 
 and I ve no heir to leave the place to but 
 my sister-in-law, who has neuralgia at the 
 seaside." 
 
 " No offense, I hope ? " asked Mr. Tim 
 bers, anxiously; " but, you see, women-folks 
 dont know so much as they might. I 11 
 blast out this ridge for ye, if ye say so 
 the house is yours ; but it would cost you 
 a hundred more, besides the damp." 
 
BUILDING. 35 
 
 " Blast the ridge ! " replied Corona. Bat 
 she saved her good name by an interroga 
 tion point. " Blast the ridge ? No, we will 
 let the ridge go. Build in the harbor, if 
 you want to ; only build, and let me go and 
 get warm." Thereupon Corona made her 
 way to the nearest house, crouching in the 
 grasp of the terrible blast as she was blown, 
 slipping and running, over the " sweet 
 fields " and hearty rocks so dear to her, 
 but alien now, with the thin ice and dry, 
 sparse snow of the unfamiliar time. Mr. 
 Timbers remained, to take some measure 
 ments, in company with the owner of the 
 land. 
 
 They were fishing people in the house 
 whither Corona fled neighbors and friends. 
 They gave her the great welcome of sea- 
 bound and solitary families. They held her 
 by the purple hands and piled the wood 
 upon the kitchen stove. They said, "Is 
 your health good in winter-time ? " They 
 looked at her fondly. They had never seen 
 her in the winter before. The children of 
 
36 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 the house put their fingers timidly upon 
 her furs. They had always thought of her 
 as wearing white linen and straw hats the 
 whole year round. 
 
 Corona felt her heart warm toward these 
 good people. When they said they were 
 glad she was going to build and settle down 
 amongst us, she thanked them gratefully. 
 She looked over at the sheltered spot below 
 her favorite bowlder, where the figures of 
 the men passed to and fro, taking surveyor s 
 measurement for her little lot of precious 
 shore and her infinity of sea ; and it seemed 
 to her as if she were acting in the first 
 scene of a dramatic poem, gentle and grave 
 enough, but long and sweet and full of al 
 luring uncertainties. She had never thought 
 that uncertainty could seem pleasant to one 
 again, after one was done with being young. 
 When she saw Mr. Timbers strike a pick 
 into the ground and set a crowbar down to 
 the frozen heart of her future home, she 
 thrilled from head to foot. 
 
 " I 11 warm a bigger place for you to look 
 
BUILDING. 37 
 
 out/ said one of the children, breathing on 
 the frosted pane. This kind intent proving 
 unsuccessful for the frost was dense 
 the boy licked the window generously. 
 
 " Oh, thank you ! " said Corona, in a glow 
 of feeling. 
 
 " It s been a cold winter/ said the wo 
 man of the house. " We ve burned a sight 
 of coal. It s taken six ton to keep this 
 house warm these five rooms. When I 
 lived up-town, back from the water, I made 
 a ton last. It comes hard. And William s 
 had back luck. Nor the boys ain t done 
 much better. But I d rather live down 
 here. I can watch the boat. There ! That s 
 their sail." 
 
 Corona looked out through the uncur 
 tained spot that the kindness of her little 
 host had left for her glad and hopeful eyes. 
 She saw the chilly white speck on the gray 
 horizon. The nearer water showed blue 
 and cold. And on the beach, where she 
 had always seen the hot sand glitter, flecks 
 of ice lay tossing with the weeds. They 
 had a cruel look, like teeth. 
 
38 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 Corona turned to the fisher-people with a 
 feeling new and gentle, such as she had 
 never had to any one before. She thought 
 of their scant, denied, imperilled lives, 
 their uncomplaining and courageous hearts. 
 When the good woman brought hot tea 
 for her, she said to herself, " We shall be 
 neighbors." It seemed to her she had never 
 really had a neighbor. She experienced a 
 new emotion. 
 
 " We ve got her laid/ said Mr. Timbers, 
 coming in ? " we ve got her laid out true ; 
 and when you and him have signed your 
 lease, that s all you ve got to do about her. 
 I 11 have my men to work first day the 
 frost gets. It won t be long, now. S pose 
 you like it here in summer, eh ? It appears 
 to me it s a little windy." 
 
 Soon after her first trip to Fairharbor, 
 Corona went a little way into the country, 
 to visit an old schoolmate with a new baby. 
 One day the baby fell into the fire, and 
 Corona sprang to pick it out, and sprained 
 
BUILDING. 39 
 
 her ankle. This gallant deed and its unto 
 ward consequence confined her for some 
 weeks to the house. 
 
 Mr. Timbers had said that he thought it 
 would be well for her to run down to Fair- 
 harbor occasionally during the erection of 
 her house ; and Corona had said that she 
 should certainly come very often. 
 
 Meanwhile, the carpenters were at work. 
 Corona had contracted with Mr. Timbers 
 that the cottage should be finished by the 
 middle of May. She had made this pro 
 vision with a keen sense of the accepted 
 helplessness of her sex in such matters, and 
 a keener desire to be on her guard against 
 the traditional imposition of the builders. 
 She would have expected Mr. Timbers to 
 cheat her, had he not been superintendent 
 of the Sunday-school. And now here she 
 was, wearing upon the delicate health of 
 her hostess ; dependent upon the surgery 
 of a more than rural doctor, who said he 
 had dog-nosed the case ; and reduced en 
 tirely to her imagination and the daily mail 
 
40 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 (it seemed to make everything worse that 
 it was brought five miles by a stage-coach) 
 for any knowledge of her now sacred and 
 absorbing interests at Fairharbor. 
 
 The builder wrote often. One day he 
 asked, Would she have cedar post ? 
 
 And Corona, whose architectural educa 
 tion was already rusting out, wrote back : 
 " What do I need a cedar post for ? " 
 
 Another time he said that the A No. 1 
 shingles he ordered had not come ; but, by 
 mistake, only the best pine shingles. He 
 thought he might use those, seeing they 
 were on hand, and he would make it square 
 on the estimate. Corona, in some indigna 
 tion, telegraphed that, of course, she wanted 
 the best pine shingles under any circum 
 stances. 
 
 Mr. Timbers leisurely replied that best 
 shingles did not mean best shingles, and 
 that nothing was best but A No. 1. This 
 was honest but perplexing, and in either 
 light it was lost time. 
 
 The next day he sent word that he 
 
BUILDING. 41 
 
 thought the kitchen closet had better be 
 built in the parlor, and that, if twas his 
 he d turn the piazza the lee side of the 
 house ; that one of his men had hammered 
 a finger off, and one was drunk, and an 
 other had a baby to bury, which delayed 
 the work ; that he thought he should leave 
 the kitchen unfinished till she got there, on 
 account of the sink and a few such ; and 
 that the weather was against them, for it 
 had rained ever since he began. 
 
 Then followed a peculiarly harrowing 
 correspondence about details, which at this 
 helpless distance assumed enormous and 
 morbid importance in Corona s mind, and 
 the discussion of which Mr. Timbers always 
 closed with the remark that the weather 
 was against them and it had rained ever 
 since they began. It was invariably bright 
 sunlight when Corona received these let 
 ters. 
 
 For the first time, she began to wish that 
 Tom were at home to help her ; but the 
 Corliss engine could not have wrung from 
 
42 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 her the acknowledgment of this not un 
 worthy sentiment. 
 
 She found a certain relief in occupying 
 herself with preparations for the internal ar 
 rangements of her home. Susy had prom 
 ised (if there were a closet for it) to pro 
 vide the bedding ; and the mother of the 
 baby that fell into the fire kindly agreed to 
 mark the pillow-cases in tambour cotton. 
 Corona felt grateful for the removal of 
 these important burdens. But enough re 
 mained. As she lay upon her lounge, in her 
 friend s " spare room," they gathered awful 
 proportions. Things to be done dawned 
 upon her, one at a time, in a diseased, spo 
 radic way. Now it was the fixture of a 
 bedroom curtain. Now a poker for the 
 parlor grate. Then she remembered she 
 had n t any grate to poke. Then, by some 
 incredible psychological caprice, her atten 
 tion would concentrate itself upon the 
 clothes-horse. Did clothes-horses grow in 
 Fairharbor ? How should she get one from 
 Boston, if they did n t ? Suddenly she would 
 
BUILDING. 43 
 
 be overcome by a fierce anxiety about the 
 nature of waffle-irons, and then she would 
 remember that she must have a broom. In 
 the depths of the night there would mys 
 teriously darken down upon her the con 
 sciousness that she could never keep house 
 without salt-cellars. In the sparkle of the 
 dawn she would jerk herself feverishly up 
 right in bed, to wonder if dish-towels came 
 fringed. At moments her whole soul reeled 
 beneath the prospect of getting her sheets 
 marked ; and at others the realization of 
 the fact that she must have soft soap for 
 Mondays seemed a burden greater than she 
 could bear. Two things in particular as 
 sumed curious and portentous shapes in her 
 imagination. One was the clothes-post, and 
 another was the hogshead for rain-water. 
 How should she get the hogshead ? How 
 should she get any rain, if she had a hogs 
 head ? How could she keep house till she 
 had a clothes-post ? And how could she get 
 a clothes-post till she had begun to keep 
 house ? Night after night she dreamed of 
 
44 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 hogsheads and clothes-posts. She waked 
 cold with her efforts to plant the clothes- 
 post in the parlor carpet, and weak with 
 the attempt to set a lunch-table for sixteen 
 upon the slippery surface of the hogshead. 
 Her mind became a frightful chaos of house 
 hold detail. 
 
 Corona was not of precisely what we call 
 a domestic temperament, and this experi 
 ence had some distressing effects. There, 
 for instance, were the pin-cushions. One 
 noon it occurred to her that she could not 
 have a house without pin-cushions, and from 
 that unhappy hour her tortured fancy had 
 no rest. She had never made a pin-cushion 
 in her life. It seemed to her that it would 
 be easier to make a man-of-war. Corona 
 was determined to keep the balance of 
 power economical and artistic in her modest 
 home. She would not fill even a cushion 
 with a " dear " stuffing in a cheap house. 
 She would not have emery and silk with 
 matched boards and bare floors. She agi 
 tated herself over these appalling questions. 
 
BUILDING. 45 
 
 That came, perhaps, of being a woman, 
 she thought. Did men think about pin 
 cushions when they built houses ? Six 
 rooms six pin-cushions. Six colors for 
 six pin-cushions in six rooms. She tor 
 mented herself with calculations. One day 
 she said to her friend : 
 
 " I 11 tear my heart out and put it into 
 the spare room before I will think about 
 this any longer. The only trouble is they 
 might find it a little hard." 
 
 " It could be used for hairpins," said her 
 friend, absently. " I should flute it, too, 
 and put a mock Valenciennes cover on." 
 
 As regarded the morals of pin-cushions, 
 so with furniture and decoration. 
 
 " I 11 have no upholstery too fine for my 
 house. In a five-hundred-dollar house noth 
 ing should be more than twenty-five cents 
 a yard," pronounced Corona, with the con 
 sciousness of the highest principle and (what 
 is more comforting) of the purest taste to 
 support her. " My purpose is to make the 
 loveliest possible home out of the least pos- 
 
46 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 sible money ; and in the history of all pur 
 poses, harmony is the chief element of 
 power." 
 
 " Buy your furniture at a factory in the 
 white," telegraphed Tom, one day, from 
 California, in the perfectly disconnected but 
 useful manner characteristic of Tom when 
 he gave advice. He had not written to 
 Corona since he went away. A serial story 
 could not have so convinced her that his 
 busy heart remembered her. And in the 
 moment, the worry and wear of her some 
 what solitary plans dissolved like the fogs 
 within the sunrise on her own golden har 
 bor shore. She had almost cried, the day 
 before, when she went out alone (her first 
 walk since her accident), to buy her own 
 silver. It had seemed to her a very pa 
 thetic thing to do. Now it seemed rather 
 amusing than otherwise. How Tom would 
 laugh ! And Tom remembered her ; always 
 had. She put the foolish, extravagant tele 
 gram to her lips. She said " Dear Tom," 
 sitting alone. Her heart lifted. She was 
 sure she should be happy in her house. 
 
BUILDING. 47 
 
 Besides, the silver was plated. It was n t 
 worth a sentiment, however cheap. 
 
 " Let me catch you at it again ! " said 
 Corona, apostrophizing her wet lashes in 
 the glass. " I 11 feed you off of pewter, if 
 I do ! " 
 
 Corona was interrupted by the stage rum 
 bling by with the afternoon mail. She 
 dried her eyes and went over to the office, 
 where she found two letters. One was from 
 Susy, and ran : - 
 
 DEAR Co, I hope you re coming home 
 soon. Baby has the mumps. There are a 
 great many express packages for you that 
 keep coming. It will remind you how many 
 friends you have. I have taken the liberty 
 I knew you would n t care I opened 
 them all. Sixteen of them are pin-cushions 
 and fourteen are tidies. One is a patent 
 nutmeg-grater. 
 
 Yours, aff., SUE. 
 
 P. S. The tidies are all green and fif 
 teen of the cushions are red. 
 
48 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 The other letter was from the builder, 
 and read as follows : 
 
 FAIRHARBOR. 
 
 DEAR MADAM, I should like to have 
 you send your furniture on at once. We 
 find it won t go up the stairs. We must 
 build it into the house. 
 
 The weather has been very poor and it 
 has rained almost ever since we began to 
 work. 
 
 Yours, with respect, 
 
 G. W. TIMBERS. 
 
IV. 
 
 POSSESSION". 
 
 COEONA recovered the use of her ankle so 
 slowly that, as Susy said, so long as Baby 
 had the mumps it did not seem wise to visit 
 Fairharbor just at present. Corona sighed 
 and submitted. She held the baby, with 
 
 one foot on a chair, and contented herself bv 
 
 / 
 
 writing more or less contradictory orders to 
 her builder by every mail. Corona had her 
 share of friends kind, obliging, good peo 
 ple ; but there seemed to be no one of them 
 on whom she felt at precise liberty to call 
 and say : " Run down to Fairharbor in the 
 month of April, and put a house in order for 
 a lame woman." At the age Corona had 
 reached, a woman s friends are more or less 
 unavailable to her for emergencies. Most 
 of them had neuralgia or a baby, sick-head- 
 
 4 
 
50 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 aches or a husband, a public school or a 
 bronchial cough. If not these, then a wid 
 ower, a minister, a Sunday-school, a mother, 
 a flirtation, or a Society for the Elevation 
 of the Human Race, to keep them at home. 
 More and more, as Corona grew older, she 
 was impressed by the great helplessness of 
 human friendship. 
 
 " We don t serve each other very far/ 
 whispered Corona, mournfully, to the baby. 
 " It is little we can do, after all. We hold 
 out a hand now and then, impulsively or 
 guardedly, as the case may be ; we throng 
 on and pass ; we jostle and are gone ; we 
 reserve our real needs from each other as if 
 they were guilty secrets. Who perceives 
 when his friend is starving ? Who cries 
 out : Give me bread ? Emerson was right 
 when he said " 
 
 " I think her left cheek has gone down a 
 little," observed Susy, coming in. She anx 
 iously watched the baby, bending low over 
 it. The mother and child regarded each 
 other so closely that each perceived its own 
 
POSSESSION. 51 
 
 countenance daguerreo typed in the other s 
 affectionate eyes. 
 
 " They have a right to their eye-beams, 
 and all the rest is Fate," finished Corona, 
 aloud. 
 
 She reproached herself that afternoon. 
 What did she want, then, that she should sit 
 and challenge the sacred name of Friend 
 ship, like a beggar whining on a curbstone ? 
 She, with her fourteen tidies, sixteen pin 
 cushions, and a nutmeg-grater ? She, with 
 Susy, and the baby (and the mumps), and 
 Tom, and a cottage in Fairharbor, and her 
 own sweet way ? 
 
 66 Is this what they mean by growing old- 
 maidish ? " said Corona, giving herself a 
 moral jerk. " Is it to grow peevish and 
 critical, and mope because you ve done 
 exactly as you wanted to, and must adjust 
 yourself to consequences ? And Tom is 
 coming home to-morrow. More shame to 
 you ! " cried Corona, with another jerk. 
 
 " Why ! I ll go down and look after 
 your cottage," said Tom, when he got 
 
52 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 home. " I 11 go the day before, and have 
 it all as slick as a whistle. Then I 11 stay 
 let me see I 11 stay two nights and a 
 day besides. Sue can t; that s clear. I 
 can. I d rather than not, Coro. I 11 get 
 supper. Gracious ! " added Tom, reflect 
 ively, " you see if I don t get supper." 
 
 It was the seventeenth of June a clear 
 day, brisk and fresh, full of color and that 
 indefinable elasticity of atmosphere which 
 makes a light heart. On the fifteenth, Mr. 
 Timbers had sent the keys of her house to 
 Corona. He was sorry not to have the 
 work done in May ; but the weather had 
 been against them, he said, and it had 
 rained ever since they began. On the six 
 teenth, as good as his word, Tom had gone 
 on to make the cottage ready for Corona ; 
 who followed with her baggage, her servant, 
 and her lame ankle, in the afternoon of the 
 following day. 
 
 The name of the good woman whom 
 Corona carried with her was Puella Vir^ 
 ginia. Puella Virginia was a kind person, 
 
POSSESSION. 53 
 
 no longer young, who had once (in Corona s 
 tender years) nursed her through the mea 
 sles and had given her grapes when nobody 
 was looking. It would be difficult to say 
 why these facts had induced Corona to se 
 lect Puella Virginia as the guide, philoso 
 pher, and friend of her future life ; but cer 
 tain it is that they had their influence. As 
 the time came to leave Tom s house, a cer 
 tain unreasonable homesickness overtook 
 her. Puella Virginia seemed to her like 
 somebody she had lived with before. 
 
 I think I shall call you Elvir," said Co 
 rona, as they drove from the Fairharbor sta 
 tion through the crooked, crawling streets 
 of the old seaport town, out upon the Cape 
 and down to the broad shore, where there 
 waited for her the home which she had 
 never seen. She felt so overwhelmed with 
 excitement at that moment it seemed to her 
 that if she had to say anything so long as 
 Puella Virginia she should cry. 
 
 " Just as you please," said Puella Vir 
 ginia, with some dignity. 
 
54 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 Ah ! Well, there it was. Corona drew 
 her breath. Sharp against the familiar sky, 
 the unfamiliar outline cut the air. It was a 
 little house. It was a very little house. It 
 had a story and a half, a hogshead, and a 
 clothes-post. It had a piazza, and it was 
 brown. Corona took these facts in swiftly 
 to a vehemently confused mind. The front 
 door opened toward the water. It was sun 
 set and full tide. The waves leaped high. 
 They came so near that she could have 
 sprung into them from the piazza steps. 
 They were heavily bronzed and gilded by 
 the color of the sky, and brilliant foam flew 
 about, for the wind was rising. 
 
 Puella Virginia made her way at once 
 into the house, buffeting with the wind ; but 
 Corona stood still upon the rocks. She stood 
 in the shadow of the little brown house. 
 Her eyes sought the emblazoned waters and 
 the flushed sky, then filled. 
 
 " You are mine ! " she whispered. 
 
 "Can t speak to a fellow?" said a voice 
 behind her. 
 
POSSESSION. 55 
 
 It was a sound more familiar than the 
 Harbor waves, dearer than the Harbor sky. 
 Corona turned quickly. 
 
 " I told you I d have it ready," said Tom. 
 " I m glad Puella has come ; but everything 
 is in beautiful order." 
 
 Tom stood in the doorway, in his shirt 
 sleeves. The signs of honest toil were on 
 his manly brow. His left cheek was a little 
 smutty and he held a gridiron in one hand. 
 Something was dropping from it on the 
 piazza in a leisurely manner. 
 
 "It s only gravy," said Tom, calmly. "I 
 tried a soup and some scrambled eggs, and 
 I baked a few beans ; but something ailed 
 them all, so I just sent up for a chop. I m 
 glad Puella has come ; but everything is in 
 order. You d better come in. It blows so 
 we can t keep anything open. There ! Tell 
 Puella to shut the kitchen door, or the house 
 will be lifted off its moorings. I find we 
 always have to keep the kitchen door shut. 
 A lot of things blew out this morning. I 
 had to hire a boy to run after them. I 
 
56 AN OLD MAW S PARADISE. 
 
 don t know what they were. They seemed 
 to be little things, mostly, with ribbons and 
 laces. Came in the bureau drawers. I guess 
 they were what you call tidies, or night-caps 
 perhaps, or neck-ties something of that 
 sort. Have to shut the windows, too ; it 
 blows so. Don t sit down there. I left 
 your Psyche there till I could find a place 
 for her. Oh ! no ; there are a lot of pic 
 tures. The boy I hired broke a few when 
 he helped me unpack; but it s nothing se 
 rious. Here, I 11 find a place. There was 
 a sofa here a few minutes ago. Oh ! yes, 
 it s under the sheets and pillow-cases. Now, 
 there ! Pretty tired ? Welcome home, my 
 dear. Everything in beautiful order. Wait 
 till I give this toasting-rack to Puella. Ev 
 erything s in " 
 
 Tom retired with the gridiron, more or lass 
 incoherently ; and Corona looked about her. 
 She sat in a little gray parlor, to which the 
 front door, opening directly, had introduced 
 her. Three unopened packing-boxes and a 
 refrigerator stood in the room. Sheets and 
 
POSSESSION. 57 
 
 table-cloths lay plentifully scattered upon the 
 furniture ; broken glass crackled beneath her 
 feet; the uncarpeted floor was black with the 
 foot-marks of carpenters, masons, and paint 
 ers; the refrigerator had been dragged in 
 without casters, and had left a long, deep, 
 jagged cut upon the soft pine floor and thresh 
 old. Confusedly she noticed her best Ten 
 nyson lying under the stove ; a pot of yel 
 low paint in a corner stood upon a pile of 
 muslin curtains. At intervals she observed 
 specimens of her fourteen green tidies. Tom 
 seemed to have labored under the impres 
 sion that they were lamp-mats, and to have 
 spread them upon tables and shelves till he 
 began to get tired. Upon the otherwise 
 empty book-cases, she recognized more or 
 less of her pincushions, piled high and look 
 ing particularly red. 
 
 " Everything s in order most," said 
 Tom, coming back and looking about with 
 a tired, happy face. " Only a few little 
 things, like these. There won t be any 
 .aiilk till morning, and the hogshead s 
 
58 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 ty, and something s out of kilter with the 
 kitchen stove. But all the beds are up, and 
 Paella says we can sleep here just as well as 
 not." 
 
 " Sleep here ! " echoed Corona. " Why, 
 where should we " 
 
 " Excuse me," said Puella Virginia, knock- 
 at the door at that moment and pushing in 
 without an answer. " But now look here ! 
 Your brother s done heaps ; heaps : but 
 there s heaps left ! Now look here ! There & 
 a woman out here at the back door says 
 she s a neighbor, and you must be busy, 
 and won t you come to tea with her ? " 
 
 " Oh ! yes," said Tom, reviving. " I ve 
 had my meals there so far. They re excel 
 lent. Her husband s a fisherman. They ve 
 been very kind. I call her the Good Samari 
 tan. "We might go ; only there s my chop." 
 
 Tom looked disappointed. 
 
 " Now look here ! " advised Paella Vir 
 ginia. " If you 11 excuse me, you d better 
 go. Take that there chop along. She won t 
 mind. Take it over with you, and get a 
 
POSSESSION. 59 
 
 quiet, decent supper; and when you get 
 there, stay there. I 11 call you by and by. 
 He s all tuckered out. Keep him over there. 
 I don t want no help, and there s supper 
 enough in the lunch-bag for me." 
 
 " Well," said Tom, looking relieved, " per 
 haps we may as well. I meant to have your 
 supper ready ; but, as Puella says, there is 
 a good deal to do. Let us go." 
 
 " Very well," said Corona. She felt as if 
 she were visiting. It did not occur to her 
 to offer any suggestions. 
 
 Tom took the chop, which Puella put into 
 the first dish that came to hand (it proved 
 to be a soap-dish), and meekly led the way 
 to the Good Samaritan s. Corona limped 
 after him, in a dazed condition. It was late 
 before Puella Virginia called them; and 
 Tom and Corona were too tired to look 
 about, but hurried off to bed in the heavy 
 shadows of the strange, disordered little 
 house. Puella gave them each a candle set 
 into a bottle. 
 
 " Oh, yes ! " said Corona. " I forgot can- 
 dlesticks." 
 
60 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 "Oh, yes!" said Tom. "I forgot the 
 kerosene." 
 
 " There is n t any bolster anywhere round, 
 is there ? " called Tom from his room, through 
 the thin matched-board wall, which was blue 
 on Corona s side and green on his. 
 
 " Oh ! " said Corona. "I forgot bolsters." 
 
 Just as Corona was sinking into her first 
 sweet sleep there came a deprecatory wail 
 from the green side of the wall. 
 
 " Oh ! I say, Co ! Sorry to trouble you ; 
 but you have n t got such a thing as soap 
 or towels in the house, have you ? " 
 
 66 No," said Corona. " I forgot the soap 
 and the towels." 
 
 In the middle of the night there was a 
 crash. It was a terrible crash. Corona, 
 terrified, sprang from her bed. Puella Vir 
 ginia ran around in her night-dress. Even 
 in her terror Corona found this a memora 
 ble sight. 
 
 " It s only me ! " cried Tom, with un- 
 grammatical reassurance. " Something s 
 happened to this cheap bed. I believe 
 
POSSESSION. 61 
 
 I in on the floor. I don t know where the 
 bed is." 
 
 Corona hurried to his rescue. True 
 enough. Her cheap furniture, " bought in 
 the white/ had surrendered to Tom s hon 
 est and sufficient bulk ; and in a debris of 
 slats and springs the big fellow lay inglori 
 ous. The head-board of the new bed leaned 
 in a sickly manner against the sea-green 
 wall, while the foot-board sought the sup 
 port of the wash-stand, on which a dusty 
 pitcher stood unfilled and inhospitable. It 
 was a most homesick and depressing sight. 
 
 " Oh ! " said Tom, after the two had re 
 garded it in silence for some portentous mo 
 ments, " I remember. I forgot the clamps ! " 
 
 And thus the evening and the morning 
 were the first day of Corona s domestic life. 
 Truth compels me to state that it was not 
 until the following sunset that any measure 
 of calm settled upon that chaotic household. 
 Corona had expected to feel more or less of 
 the impressiveness of the experience which 
 can come but once to any human creature 
 
62 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 the first possession of the first four walls 
 which we call our own. On the contrary, 
 she found her mind as devoid of sentiment 
 as a last year s grocer s bill. But suddenly, 
 as the night drew down, a swift and almost 
 sacred change fell upon her, like the change 
 of metre in the Psalms of David. When she 
 went to dress for tea getting into some 
 thing fresh and soft, with lace and color 
 and heard for the first time in her own house 
 her own supper-bell vigorously chiming in 
 Puella Virginia s warm hands, her heart 
 leaped ; and then it seemed to kneel. She 
 stole gently dow r n. The dining-room was 
 tiny, neat, and bright. The table was set, 
 and the late light from the west fell in upon 
 the plated No, those were her mother s 
 spoons. Her lip quivered. She said : 
 
 " You surprised me, Tom." But she could 
 not say anything more. 
 
 There was a note there from Susy, too, 
 with Chinese teacups. There were several 
 things on the table she had not seen before. 
 
 " People kept sending them/ said Tom, 
 kindly. 
 
POSSESSION. 63 
 
 And the Good Samaritan made and sent 
 the smoking rolls. She thought " they d 
 be too beat out to cook." 
 
 Corona and Tom sat down. Tom did not 
 usually " ask grace " at table. He had re 
 served opinions about the custom, though 
 now and then, Corona remembered, he had 
 conformed to it; but never, she was sure, 
 when his thoughts were light. To-night 
 Tom hesitated a moment. Then he bowed 
 his head and said : 
 
 " Thou who dwellest in so many homes, 
 possess thyself of this. Thou who settest 
 the solitary in families, bless the life which 
 is sheltered here. Grant that trust and 
 peace and comfort may abide within ; and 
 that love and light and usefulness may go 
 from out this house forever." 
 
 " Amen ! " said heavily an unexpected 
 voice. It was Puella Virginia, standing in 
 the kitchen doorway, with waffles. 
 
V. 
 
 INSIDE AND OUT. ALONE. 
 
 AND now Tom was gone. " Give me your 
 blessing and a sandwich/ he had said; " but 
 don t get up, nor a breakfast." As a mat 
 ter of course, therefore, Puella Virginia s 
 .menu was more than usually elaborate ; and 
 Corona rose an hour too soon, to pick wild 
 roses for Susy. Tom held out patient hands 
 for them, swore not at all when the thorns 
 got under his gloves, kissed Corona twice, 
 said he d come again and bring the baby, 
 and indeed he was gone. The Fairharbor 
 omnibus, very impatient and very yellow, 
 trundled off with him laboriously. As he 
 went over the hill, he looked back, and saw 
 Corona standing on the great bowlder to 
 wave her hand. Her figure stood higher 
 than the little brown house. She wore blue, 
 
INSIDE AND OUT. ALONE. 65 
 
 and seemed cut like a solitary silhouette 
 against the paler sky. 
 
 She went back into the house slowly. She 
 and Puella Virginia were quite alone. Co 
 rona wandered restlessly about the still un 
 ordered rooms. For half an hour she won 
 dered how she should like living in her 
 own house. The sun was fresh, the sea was 
 fair, the air was sweet, the wild roses looked 
 in, the tide went out peacefully. Puella 
 from the kitchen reminded her that there 
 was enough to do in this house to take two 
 folks a month. But Tom was gone. 
 
 " I ll go to walk," said Corona, decidedly, 
 to herself. "I m going to walk, Pu El- 
 vir," she said to Puella, faintly. 
 
 Up to this time she had felt as if she were 
 visiting Tom. Now she felt as if she were 
 boarding with Puella. She almost appealed 
 to her for permission to carry out a prefer 
 ence. 
 
 " There hain t a stitch took nor a chair 
 dusted," said Puella, with dissatisfaction. 
 "Ye put up all the curtains and pictures 
 
66 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 before I d scrubbed a floor. Ye tended to 
 them statoos and books ; but look at yer 
 parlor windows ! " 
 
 " Puella Vir Elvir," said Corona, gently, 
 " I don t know how to keep house, I rn 
 afraid. But you will do it for me, I am sure." 
 
 " Will ye trust me ? " asked Puella, after 
 some thought. 
 
 " If I did n t trust you I should not have 
 invited you to live with me," paid Corona, 
 gently still. " We shall be a long while to 
 gether, Puella; and often and much alone. 
 I hope that we shall make each other happy 
 and become true friends." 
 
 Puella Virginia was silent. No lady had 
 ever spoken to her like that. She watched 
 Corona as she paced the beach in the bright 
 morning ; her refined, slender figure bending 
 to the light breeze from the east. Puella 
 Virginia was a big woman. 
 
 " Well, yes," she said, after some thought, 
 speaking aloud. " I 11 make her happy, if 
 I can. Bless her, yes ! " 
 
 Corona walked a long time. The beach. 
 
INSIDE AND OUT. ALONE. 67 
 
 left by the departed tide, was a web of soft 
 shades. She was captured in it. Gray, 
 pearl, silver, mauve, sepia, olive green, and 
 dull w T hite tints betokened sand and weeds v 
 perhaps ; but to her eye they took the fig 
 ure of a huge palette. The semicircle of 
 the shore curved, and she stood within it 
 musing and reluctant, like the artist s hand 
 before the virgin color. 
 
 Toward noon the sky became overcast 
 with soft, warm clouds. They had gray 
 hearts. Faint forms of blue showed through, 
 evanescent. The shore wore veils of blue- 
 green haze. The water, which had been 
 blue and brilliant at an earlier hour, grew 
 gray ; but seemed warmer for this change of 
 countenance. Eays of light fell across the 
 harbor ; from where, one knew not. They 
 were long, narrow, fine, and bright. As she 
 watched them, they throbbed ; they seemed 
 like the glittering, scaly backs of unknown 
 sea creatures. There were few vessels upon 
 the harbor. These moved in and out on 
 mysterious and idle errands, through a silver 
 
68 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 atmosphere. Little dories trailed after them. 
 On the rocks were gentle breakers; the 
 foam was all at play. When Corona came 
 into the house, the light lay thin, warm, and 
 still across the parlor floor. 
 
 She told Puella Virginia that she thought 
 she would get a bath ; and Puella, without 
 protest, brought her bathing-dress. Corona 
 dreamily wandered down to a little cove 
 where the sand was warm and the cliffs were 
 high, and gave greeting to the ocean with 
 the passion which only his lovers under 
 stand. She flung herself under the green 
 fire of the " third wave," and said : " I am 
 alive ! alive ! " 
 
 Corona felt exhilarated all that day. 
 She had a good appetite and large aspira 
 tions. She took Tom s seat at table, and 
 looked through open doors upon the silver 
 sea. She ate an extra piece of cake for des 
 sert, out of sheer sense of life. Puella Vir 
 ginia hung up the curtains alone. Corona 
 could not work. The world was too fair 
 or the cake too full of saleratus. At inter- 
 
INSIDE AND OUT. ALONE. 69 
 
 vals she said to Puella : " I must remember 
 to call you Elvir." She had never once re 
 membered it. 
 
 It will be of interest, perhaps, to the 
 reader who has followed Corona s unevent 
 ful history, to be introduced more distinctly 
 to the home which five hundred dollars and 
 an old maid had founded. The house, as I 
 
 m 
 
 have said, was brown ; the blinds and trim 
 mings were of a darker shade than the walls 
 of narrow matched boards. The cottage 
 contained five rooms and a kitchen. The 
 body of this imposing building stood twenty 
 feet square upon the ground. The kitchen 
 measured nine feet by eight, and there was 
 a wood-shed, three feet wide, in which Pu 
 ella managed to pile the wood, and various 
 domestic mysteries into which Corona felt 
 no desire to penetrate. There were a par 
 lor, a dining-room, a guest-room, and two 
 rooms left for " the family." There were 
 two closets, a coal-bin, and a loft. The 
 house stood on what, for want of a scientific 
 term, Corona called piers; and Puella Vir- 
 
70 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 ginia found infinite capabilities in what 
 might, could, would, or should have been 
 the cellar, if this valuable space had been 
 closed in. The two women preferred it as 
 it was. Corona could see the clover grow 
 ing. What so delightful as to see clover 
 growing beneath one s house ! And Puella 
 Virginia said it would keep out rats. But 
 the boy whom Tom hired to help unpack 
 he was the Good Samaritan s boy, and his 
 name was Zerubbabel Zerubbabel ob 
 jected. He said he did n t like to see a 
 house on stilts. 
 
 Corona s house had no plaster, no paper 
 ing, and no carpets. Her parlor, which, as 
 I have said, opened directly upon the water, 
 was painted gray ; the walls were of the 
 paler color in a gull s wing ; the ceiling had 
 the tint of dulled pearls ; the floor was rock 
 gray (a border of black ran around this 
 floor) ; the beams and rafters, left visible by 
 the absence of plastering, were touched with 
 what is known to artists as neutral tint. 
 The effects were all simply combined, and 
 
INSIDE AND OUT. ALONE. 71 
 
 their factors to be found without difficulty 
 upon the palette of the Fairharbor house 
 and sign painter. Several felt mats were 
 on the floor. They were of that individual 
 and indescribable color for which the Yan 
 kee mind has no better name than cherry. 
 They were fringed with gray. The dado- 
 band was formed of wood-cuts. They were 
 of the same shape and size and fitted nicely. 
 They were all landscapes. Paella called 
 them " views." They were bordered by a 
 fine painted line of black. The effect of 
 them was soft and rich. Corona had been 
 some years in collecting them from Ameri 
 can and English magazines. A frieze of car 
 dinal flowers finished the top of the room. 
 These were cut from chromos bought by 
 the wholesale at an auction. They bore the 
 burning carmine tint, which was the light 
 of the room, and at that height had an in 
 credible air of refinement. The curtains in 
 this room were cotton flannel, of a silver 
 shade, bordered and tied with cherry. The 
 cheap and comfortable lounges which Mr. 
 
72 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 Timbers had made were upholstered also 
 in gray cotton flannel. They had bright 
 pillows. A deck-chair stood at the eastern 
 window, with cherry ribbons. Corona s 
 books, statuettes, and pictures were abun 
 dant in this room. There was a tiny open 
 stove. The rocking-chair was old and gen 
 erous; the table-cloth was one of Susy s, 
 that happened to be kind in color ; and the 
 room had the air of having been lived in a 
 long time. 
 
 In the dining-room there was no paint. 
 The soft wood walls and floor and ceiling 
 were oiled without color, and the fine char 
 acteristic yellow tints of the pine looked 
 through. The little room absorbed much 
 light. It was curtained with English silesia, 
 of a golden brown. Susy had worked oak- 
 leaves upon the curtains. A shelf to hold 
 Corona s modest store of bric-a-brac (con 
 sisting at this stage in her history of the 
 tea-urn, one caddy, some India shells, and 
 the collar-bone of a deformed haddock that 
 Zerubbabel gave her) was finished with hem- 
 
INSIDE AND OUT. ALONE. 73 
 
 lock bark. The rafters in the ceiling of this 
 room were covered with the thin lichens 
 that grow on stones and the trunks of trees. 
 Gold-paper behind them gave out flecks like 
 sunlight in a dense place. 
 
 Puella Virginia s room was as yet unfin 
 ished. Corona had thought it courtesy to 
 wait and consult the taste of its occupant. 
 
 Corona s room was blue, shading swiftly 
 from the floor to the ceiling, which was very 
 pale. Butterflies were on this ceiling, cut 
 from natural history specimen cards. They 
 were all of pale colors white and gold or 
 rose. The windows were draped with two 
 old-fashioned dresses that Corona and Susy 
 had once alike. They were blue-and-white 
 muslin, and had grown soft with many 
 washings. 
 
 The guest room was green floor, walls, 
 furniture. Corona hired a man for a day s 
 wages to paint the furniture, while she 
 watched and directed him. The walls she 
 hung abundantly with ferns, pressed and se 
 curely fastened with gum tragacanth. There 
 
74 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 was much of the creeping fern. The cur 
 tains were of cheap white muslin, and were 
 not tied. The room looked like a bower. 
 
 There was not, let me add, a stork, a bul 
 rush, a Japanese fan, nor a grandmother s 
 tea-cup in the house. I am describing, of 
 course, the appearance of Corona s cottage 
 as it existed in her imagination until the 
 end of several weeks occupancy and oppor 
 tunity. In the political economy of house 
 hold art decoration the slightest possible 
 sum of money may be made to accomplish 
 the largest conceivable results ; but the one 
 condition of which the most lavish expen 
 diture is necessary is time. Possibly one 
 might add to this a little talent. In place 
 of the latter, a fair allowance of taste. In 
 lieu of either, the Lamp of Obedience will 
 light the way. A hod-carrier would be well- 
 nigh inexcusable in these days for having 
 an ugly home. 
 
 This day of which I spoke the first af 
 ter Tom s departure clouded a little soon 
 after dinner. The afternoon set in rather 
 
INSIDE AND OUT. ALONE. 7^ 
 
 drearily. It sprinkled on the windows, 
 which Puella Virginia had just washed. 
 Corona could not walk upon the beach. She 
 wandered out into the kitchen. The kitchen 
 was stained a deep walnut color, with oil 
 and umber ; the kitchen tables were shel 
 laced. Puella was scouring tin. Every 
 thing looked very clean. 
 
 "You shall have a rocking-chair/ said 
 Corona; anxious to make the partner of 
 her domestic joys and sorrows as happy as 
 possible. 
 
 Puella Virginia thanked her, but said it 
 would kick her shins. 
 
 " How would you like lambrequins, and a 
 little seat in the window-sill?" asked Co 
 rona. " There are a plenty of bright dark 
 prints to be had for six cents a yard. We 
 can make the kitchen very pretty." 
 
 " They d grease," said Puella, laconically. 
 
 " Perhaps so," said Corona, looking disap 
 pointed. She felt uncomfortable with her 
 rugs and her ribbons and her old blue mus 
 lin dresses, while Puella s floors and walls 
 
76 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 were bare. Doubtless Corona will be much 
 derided for this hyper-aesthesia of the sym 
 pathies. But she could not help it ; it was 
 her " way." She had always found it hard 
 to understand the " servants line " in kindly, 
 comfortable, Christian homes, and was apt 
 to transgress upon it. Besides, in a house 
 twenty feet square the distance between the 
 parlor and the kitchen is so particularly 
 small ! 
 
 " You re very kind," said Puella, gra 
 ciously ; " but it seems to me, if you re go 
 ing to do that kind of thing, my room s the 
 place for it." 
 
 " Very well," said Corona. " What color 
 shall we get for your room, Puelvir ? I will 
 buy the material to-morrow ; but you shall 
 select it. You shall have exactly what you 
 want." 
 
 " Well," said Puella, after a long and 
 thoughtful pause, " if I can have exactly 
 what I want" 
 
 " Yes," interrupted Corona, eagerly. 
 " Exactly ! " 
 
INSIDE AND OUT. ALONE. 77 
 
 "Then," said Puella, with a kindling 
 countenance, " I should like them curtains 
 to be maroon and indigo." 
 
 " Maroon and mdigo ! " gasped Corona. 
 
 " Two to each window/ said Puella, 
 proudly. " I had a cousin once who got 
 married and had some. You never saw any 
 thing like the way the maroon fell down 
 onto the indigo. It was so rich ! I always 
 said, if I ever got married, I d have maroon 
 and indigo curtains. It ain t exactly get 
 ting married, living out with you," added 
 Puella, reflectively ; " but it s enough sight 
 easier work, n better wages. And, if I have 
 them curtains, I shan t never regret that I 
 did n t take Pete Baily. Only thing made 
 me hesitate about Pete was when I thought 
 about my cousin s curtains. Now I shall 
 have the curtains, without the plague o 
 Pete. I m much obliged to you, Miss Co 
 rona ; very much, indeed. I 11 hem em 
 myself." 
 
 Corona turned away. She was speechless 
 with mingled emotions. Not for her new 
 
78 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 little dainty home and all the kingdom and 
 glory thereof would she have disappointed 
 Puella Virginia now. 
 
 But maroon and indigo ! 
 
 The storm set in heavily toward night. 
 The sea tossed and the fog settled. Sails 
 seen through silver were blotted out. The 
 palette of the beach was blurred. Birds 
 flew low and whistled restlessly. The new 
 house began to leak. Puella went about 
 very much tucked up as to her skirts, and 
 mopped vigorously beneath the delicate cur 
 tains. Idlers fled from the rocks. Zerubba- 
 bel whom, by the way, let me hasten to 
 say, passed by the pet name of Zero in the 
 bosom of his family Zero came over with 
 the afternoon mail ; but no other sign of life 
 attacked the cottage. The fog-bell began 
 to toll. 
 
 Corona went out and stood in the back 
 doorway and peered into the summer rain. 
 She heard the water dripping into her empty 
 and warping hogshead, and for the first 
 
INSIDE AND OUT. ALONE. 79 
 
 time completely realized that she was in her 
 own home ; that she owned the floor she 
 trod on, the walls that sheltered her, the 
 roof that leaked on her, the rain that fell 
 for her, and the peach-basket into which 
 Puella was putting little sticks to build a lit 
 tle fire in her little parlor grate, by which 
 she should sit with slippered feet alone 
 
 " What s that? " cried Puella Virginia. 
 
 It was the expressman, driving furiously 
 through the wet. 
 
VI. 
 
 MATTHEW ARNOLD. 
 
 " HE drives/ said Puella, " as if he was 
 trying to get away from scarlet fever, or a 
 girl he did n t like." 
 
 " He does seem in a hurry," observed Co 
 rona. The two women watched him eagerly. 
 It was the first time the expressman had 
 called unexpectedly at the cottage. Corona 
 felt that it was an event. Oddly, too, she 
 remembered at the moment how she had 
 often looked with a certain scorn upon se 
 cluded people, who found events in little 
 things. Her scorn had turned to sympathy. 
 One of those transformations of the im 
 agination which experience is continually 
 thrusting upon us, and which increase in 
 number and intensify in character as we 
 pass our first youth, forever from that time 
 
MATTHEW ARNOLD. 81 
 
 idealized to Corona the arrival of express 
 packages at lonely thresholds on rainy days. 
 
 The expressman jumped down, splashing 
 in the mud-puddle her own mud-puddle, 
 by her own back doorstep. Something 
 jumped after him, splashing too. 
 
 " It s a dog ! " cried Puella Virginia. 
 
 " Gracious Jiminy ! " said the express 
 man. "I should think it was a dog. If 
 you d had the bringing of him from Boston, 
 you d think it was a dog ! " 
 
 " Why, what did he do ? " asked Puella. 
 
 " Do ! " cried the expressman. " I 11 leave 
 you to find out what he did. I 11 leavG 
 you to find out what he did n t do. Never 
 was so tarnal glad to git rid of a nexpresis. 
 package in my life. He hain t run away 
 but six times ; no he hain t. Nor he hain t 
 bit me but three times ; has he ? Besides, 
 the blasted critter eat his direction off. For 
 tunate I had it here, ma am, with the letter 
 explainin ." 
 
 " Explaining what?" cried Corona, feel- 
 
 6 
 
82 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 ing very much confused and not a little em 
 barrassed. 
 
 " Explainin the dog ! " cried the express 
 man. "There! look at that. That s the 
 way he s waltzed at me ever since we 
 started." 
 
 The dog (who was a small, alert tan ter 
 rier) began, at this, to perform a series of 
 gyrations about the expressman, who held 
 him by a rope. Gradually both man and 
 puppy became twisted into a closer and 
 tighter and more hopeless embrace, till the 
 dog came, for simple want of tether, breath 
 less to a halt between the expressman s legs. 
 
 " There, there ! " said Puella Virginia, in 
 the aggravating tone women use to impa 
 tient men the tone of a mother to a re 
 fractory boy. " Don t get excited. 1 11 
 help ye." 
 
 She went out into the rain and untied the 
 dog and brought him into the kitchen. The 
 expressman took immediate advantage of 
 his liberty and splashed away as he had 
 come. 
 
MATTHEW ARNOLD. 83 
 
 Meanwhile Corona was reading the letter, 
 which was from Tom, and ran : 
 
 DEAR Co, This will introduce to you a 
 friend of mine, well-born, well-bred, amia 
 ble and unobtrusive, who has kindly con 
 sented to relieve for the summer the anxiety 
 which Susy feels regarding your unprotected 
 situation in that solitary place. Confess 
 myself I would prefer not to leave you there 
 without masculine society, and hope you 
 may find in this gentleman all that the heart 
 of Defenseless Woman can wish. 
 
 Yours, TOM. 
 
 P. S. His name is Matthew Arnold. 
 
 Corona laid down the letter and looked at 
 the dog. If Tom had sent a baby, she would 
 not have been more perplexed. She took 
 him gingerly by the long rope. Matthew 
 Arnold proceeded at once to shorten his 
 tether, doing himself up with a series of 
 jerks against her feet, and producing in 
 Corona rather an acute sense of sympathy 
 with the expressman than any warming of 
 
84 AN OLD MAJD S PARADISE. 
 
 the affections toward himself. But then he 
 came from Tom. So she told Puelvir to 
 give the dog his supper and whatever 
 dogs wanted ; and in a vague and abstract 
 manner retired from the Dog Problem to 
 the little gray parlor. Pretty soon she came 
 out into the kitchen again, and the follow 
 ing conversation took place. 
 
 " How is Matthew Arnold, Puella ? " 
 
 " Ma am ? " 
 
 " How is the dog ? Is he happy ? " 
 
 " He s crazy to get back where he came 
 from, if ye call that bein happy. Yes." 
 
 " Is he a good watch-dog, do you think, 
 Puelvir ? " 
 
 " Think likely. They most generally is, 
 nless they sleep too heavy." 
 
 " Oh ! Does Matthew Arnold sleep heav 
 ily, Puella?" 
 
 " Hain t slept no ways yet. Ben wrig 
 gling on the rope round the table-leg ever 
 sence he come. I tripped over him three 
 times, and broke a platter. He keeps run- 
 nin between my feet." 
 
MATTHEW ARNOLD. 85 
 
 " Puelvir, I had not thought much about 
 it before the dog came ; but this is the first 
 night we ve been alone down here. Do 
 
 you mind it ? Are you at all afraid, Puel 
 vir ? " 
 
 " Afraid ! Well ! Be you ? " 
 
 "Oh! no. I m not afraid. Indeed, I 
 never thought of it before. But I didn t 
 know how you felt. You don t think we d 
 better have a man come in, do you, till we 
 get used to it ? " 
 
 "A MAN! ! !" Puella dropped her 
 toasting-rack and regarded her mistress 
 with a keen and scornful eye. " What 
 under the canopy two full-grown women 
 should want of a man " But perhaps 
 Puella discerned some genuine uneasiness in 
 Corona s face. She replied more gently, 
 " Do as ye like. I can stand him, if you 
 can." 
 
 "We might get Zero," said Corona, a 
 trifle ashamed of herself for the suggestion ; 
 but impelled to it by one of those unreason 
 able gusts of feeling which only tired women 
 
86 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 know. " We might have Zero. He s only 
 a boy." As if this halved the humiliation. 
 
 " Very well," said Puella. " I 11 get into 
 my rubber Coots and go after him. Don t 
 you fret." 
 
 Corona returned to the parlor. The night 
 came on swiftly. It grew very dark. Never 
 on shore had she seen such darkness. Out 
 side of her door there seemed to be a chasm 
 of solid black ; the outlines of sky and sea 
 and rock were lost. One step off from the 
 little piazza she dared not take ; it was like 
 walking over the Great Gulf Fixed. 
 
 Yet the night was pierced merrily by the 
 headlights of a hundred vessels anchored in 
 the bay ; and the air was full of sweet 
 power, as if blown a long distance over per 
 fumed lands. The rain, too, grew scanty, 
 and the soul of summer spoke out of the 
 mystery of the dark. 
 
 She flung herself into the hammock on 
 the piazza, with her heavy scarlet shawl 
 about her. Faint light from the parlor fell 
 through ; she made a spot of color like a 
 
MATTHEW ARNOLD. 87 
 
 dying watch-fire, and knew that she made 
 it, and felt it idly. 
 
 " Where will the critter sleep ? " asked 
 Puelvir, suddenly appearing, with Matthew 
 Arnold. 
 
 "Who? Oh! the dog. Well can t he 
 sleep in your room, Puelvir ? " 
 
 " He could" replied Puella, in a tone of 
 deep significance. 
 
 " He seems so little to sleep alone," said 
 Corona, sympathetically. " Whee ee, sir ! 
 Come here, good fellow, come." She made 
 her first advances toward the dog timidly. 
 Matthew repelled them with sullen dignity. 
 
 " Where 11 the other one sleep ? " asked 
 Puelvir. 
 
 " Oh ! Zero. I had n t thought. Has he 
 come ? Let me see ! I suppose he must 
 sleep in the spare room. That hadn t oc 
 curred to me. Well, it can t be helped to- 
 night. Make up the bed with the colored 
 blankets, Puelvir." 
 
 "Well, I did," said Puella. "I didn t 
 suppose there was n t nothin else to be done. 
 
88 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 He s been abed and asleep this hour. He- 
 sleeps like the Last Trumpet," added Puella, 
 scornfully. " He s deef too." 
 
 " The dog might sleep with him/ sug 
 gested Corona, ignoring these insinuations. 
 " But we must be sure and make him un 
 derstand that he is n t to let him loose in 
 the morning." 
 
 " I give him a bath," said Puella. 
 
 " Gave Oh ! you gave the dog a bath. 
 Very good, Puelvir. Now the next thing is 
 to wake Zero. I hardly like to go into his 
 room. What shall we do ? " 
 
 The two women stood uncertain upon the 
 stairs. Corona held the light, and Puella 
 held the dog. They consulted in whispers, 
 forgetting that Zero was deaf. 
 
 " I s pose I must do it," said Puella, re 
 luctantly. " But this comes of having men- 
 folks in a woman s house." 
 
 Corona acknowledged the deserved re 
 buke in meek silence ; and Puella went into 
 Zero s room, holding Matthew Arnold (who 
 rebelled vigorously) by the back of the 
 
MATTHEW ARNOLD. 89 
 
 neck. Corona modestly sat down with the 
 lamp upon the stairs outside of Zero s door, 
 and listened to the following dialogue : 
 
 " Zero ! " Silence. 
 
 "Zero!" 
 
 "Ze-ro-o-o! Zero! Zero! Zero! ZERO! 
 Land ! He s deefer n the Recordin Angel. 
 ZERO ! " 
 
 "Oh! Urn! Eh?" 
 
 " Zero ! D ye hear ? He s asleep again. 
 Sleeps like a chockful graveyard. Much 
 use you d be Zero! you d be if there 
 was burglars. Zero / Sleeps like an idiot 
 asylum. Zero! There. Zero! Here s the 
 little dog. See ? " 
 
 Zero seemed dimly to assert that he saw. 
 
 " He s to sleep with you. See ? You re 
 Hot to let him out in the morning. Not to 
 let the little dog out in the morning ! Zero ! 
 Do you sense it ? There. Well, if he don t, 
 I can t do no more," said Puella. 
 
 She came out, panting and exhausted. 
 The door, swollen with the fog, stuck and 
 refused to latch. Matthew Arnold evinced 
 
90 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 a strong desire to wriggle out through the 
 crack ; but found the attempt hopeless and 
 subsided. Zero slumbered on, and silence 
 settled upon that man-protected house. 
 
 Corona woke early. The light was strong. 
 The sun seemed to be bathing in the silent 
 sea. She felt as if she had surprised it. No 
 one was astir; the fishermen had drawn 
 their boats scraping over the white sand an 
 hour since, and had become only palpitating 
 spots on the horizon. Faint white opaque 
 forms hung far out upon the open ocean, 
 like congealed breath. They were the re 
 minders of departed and departing fog. 
 Their distance and slightness left a remark 
 able contrast of brilliance upon the clean- 
 swept water of the bay. Corona felt a 
 bounding sense of escaped gloom as she 
 looked from harbor to horizon. The few 
 birds of the seaside were singing somewhere 
 unseen. The opposite arm of the shore 
 curved tenderly about the thoughtful wa 
 ter ; the clear-cut colors of cliff and sand, 
 of the forest, and the village, looked over. 
 
MA TTHE W A RNOLD. 9 1 
 
 Anchored sails were flung to dry in the 
 golden air ; departing sails looked back 
 affectionately, but leaped outward with a 
 thrill; every little fishing-boat was sentient; 
 every gray, grave schooner had a soul. The 
 window by the bed was open, and beyond 
 the blue muslin curtain the broad blue day 
 gazed in. The air was electric and imperi 
 ous ; the world was very good. Corona, in 
 a kind of trance of idleness, possession, and 
 delight, heard feet astir at last, and softly 
 called : 
 
 Puelvir ? " 
 
 Puella and a crisp waft of frying cunners 
 -came to the foot of the stairs together 
 There seemed something incredibly poetic 
 to Corona in the fact of having one s own 
 perch for breakfast in one s own house. 
 She turned from the glory of the harbor to 
 the substantial footsteps of Puella without 
 shock. It was all like a change of key in a 
 mystical and joyous German opera. In a 
 dreamy tone she asked Puella if Zero had 
 got up. Puella replied that he had been 
 gone three hours since. 
 
92 JA T OLD MAI&S PARADISE. 
 
 " And the dog ? " asked Corona, idly, " Is 
 Matthew Arnold safe up-stairs ? >? 
 
 "S pose so/ said Puella. "The creetur 
 was up before I was ; waked me up, too/ 
 
 " Which creature, Puelvir ? " 
 
 " Why, the boy I s pose he left the dog< 
 I never looked to see " 
 
 " Come up and look into the green room, 
 and call him down," said Corona, pleasantly, 
 turning again to the romance of the sea. 
 
 In a few minutes Puella presented herself. 
 Her face was grave. She said i 
 
 " Well, he s gone." 
 
 " Gone ! Have you looked under the 
 bed ? In the closet ? Under the No, 
 he could n t get under the bureau, What 
 will my brother say ? What shall we do, 
 Puelvir ? Is this the way dogs always do ? 
 I never had a dog, Puelvir. I don t know 
 what to do. I wonder if they get out win 
 dows. Do you think he got out the win 
 dow ? I think you must hunt up Zero. I 
 will dress and help you immediately." 
 
 Accordingly, Puella put on her rubber 
 
MATTHEW ARNOLD. 93 
 
 boots (she was already as dependent on 
 those boots as the Peterkin family), to cross 
 the long, unrnown, wet grass, in search of 
 Zero. Corona hurried off as soon as circum- 
 stances would permit. She met Puella re 
 turning alone, with a string in her hand. 
 
 " There s all that is left of him," said 
 Paella, producing the familiar rope by which 
 Matthew Arnold had so won the affections 
 of the expressman. " The creetur says the 
 dog followed him out. Says he seemed to 
 like him first rate. Says he kep* along as 
 nice as could be for a ways, till he see a cart. 
 Guessed he thought it was a nexpress cart. 
 Anyway, the critter put ; and the creetur " 
 
 " You confuse me," interrupted Corona, 
 impatiently, " talking about creeturs and 
 critters. I don t keep track of which you 
 mean. I suppose you mean the boy went 
 after the dog, and could n t find him." 
 
 " Well, yes m," said Paella ; " that s about 
 it. Anyway, the dog is gone. And the boy 
 says he never heard nothin we said to him 
 last night not nothin ; not one blessed 
 word. He thought it was queer when he 
 
94 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 waked up and see the critter sleepin on the 
 chair beside of him. Says the dog asked to 
 go ; so he let him go. . Says he never heard 
 jiothin ; not nothin . I told him he d been 
 useful if we d been murdered in the night. 
 When you get to be so old as I be, Miss Co 
 rona, you won t have so much opinion of 
 men-folks, I dessay. They re well enough 
 in their place," added Puella, drawing her 
 generous figure to its height and speaking 
 with the unconscious patronage of power; 
 " but I don t want em too nigh me." 
 
 " At least," said Corona, " I can get a 
 revolver." 
 
 Puella made no reply. There was one 
 thing only one in this world to which 
 Puella objected more than she did to a 
 man. That was a pistol. She had never 
 been afraid of a man ; she was very much 
 afraid of a pistol. She would rather have 
 had ten tramps in the house than one Smith 
 & Wesson. But it was not Puella s house ; 
 she could not say anything. Even her ma 
 roon and indigo curtains failed to make her 
 fppl n.t. homo inst then. 
 
VII. 
 
 MARY. 
 
 CORONA was going to have company. It 
 was her first company ; for Tom did not 
 "count." She went about her new home 
 in a fine fever. She patted the house, so to 
 speak, for the coming of her friend. The 
 arrangement of the table-linen was a poem. 
 There was romance in the green borders of 
 the towels that hung harmoniously in the 
 green spare room. The carpet-sweeper was 
 not without a charm, and the duster had a 
 certain ideal character. The little brown 
 house absorbed more light from the sun, 
 more soul from the sea, than on lonelier 
 days. Every fold of every curtain had a 
 hospitable air. Each picture on the matched 
 board walls looked out expectant. 
 
 In the superfluity of uncommon names 
 
96 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 with which chance had blessed her house 
 hold, Corona found a singular relief in the 
 fact that her friend was plainly known as 
 Mary. Mary and Corona had riot met for a 
 long time. The guest arrived at evening. 
 There was a gate between Corona and the 
 street, which, for some vague reason con 
 nected with cows, which Corona never fully 
 understood, had to be kept shut. Puella 
 went out and opened the gate for the omni 
 bus when Mary came. As she did so, Co 
 rona heard the sound of some unexpected 
 struggle and excitement, and a figure re 
 plete with confused associations bounded to 
 meet her. It was a dog. It was a black- 
 and-tan dog. 
 
 " I got him in Boston ! " cried Mary, com 
 ing in all flushed and fine in her modish 
 traveling-clothes and looking for a moment 
 very strange at the homely little hearth-side 
 where she stood. " I w r anted to bring you 
 something. I did n t know what. I met a 
 man trying to sell this dog. He said the 
 fellow plagued his life out following him 
 
MARY. 97 
 
 round. He said it would n t stay with any 
 body else, but just stuck to him. He said 
 he was tired of the sight of it. I thought 
 it a pity such a pretty dog. So I bought 
 him" 
 
 " Bought him ! " echoed Corona, impul 
 sively. 
 
 " Why, yes. You did n t think I stole 
 him ? I bought him of the man ; it was 
 an expressman. No ; it was an expressman 
 gave it to him. I got him for you, my 
 dear ; and I hope you 11 love him for my 
 sake!" 
 
 " I m very much very much, indeed," 
 faltered Corona ; " and I certainly will. 
 Come here sir; come here. How kind you 
 were and thoughtful. And now you 11 
 come directly to your room, I know. This 
 way. This little dog is thirsty. If you 11 
 excuse me " 
 
 She hurried to the kitchen, where she and 
 the dog and Puella confronted each other. 
 
 " Well ! " said Puella. 
 
 " Yes," said Corona. 
 
 7 
 
98 , AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 "It s him," added Puella. 
 
 " It s Matthew Arnold/ said Corona, sol 
 emnly. " I see you think so. There is no 
 doubt about it. What shall we do ? " 
 
 " I know him by them eye-teeth," said 
 Puella, grimly, " and that twist to his tail. 
 He had that cock to one eye, too, when he 
 ran around the table-leg. Yes, it s him." 
 
 " What can we do ? " repeated Corona, 
 desperately. " I cannot tell her. How can 
 I? No. We mustn t tell her, Puelvir 
 at present. It seems like deception ; but it 
 isn t our fault. We won t say anything 
 about it to her." 
 
 " Nor to your brother, neither. Eh ? " 
 asked Puella, sardonically. 
 
 " No," said Corona, groaning ; " nor to 
 my brother, either, just yet. Perhaps he 
 won t corne while Miss Mary is here. We 
 can trust not. We must make the best of 
 it, Puelvir. Give Matthew Arnold his sup 
 per, and tie him in a double bow-knot. And 
 be careful how you look, Puelvir, when any 
 thing is said before you about the dog." 
 
MARY. 99 
 
 And now life in the brown cottage be 
 came full of busy restfulness. The days 
 slid by, well comraded. Corona was hap 
 pier than she had ever expected to be, in 
 her own house or out of it. To be sure, a 
 shadow fell across her content now and 
 then, when Mary reminded her that she 
 was to love that dog for her sake. And she 
 found it a little difficult at first to call him 
 Launcelot, which was the name Mary had se 
 lected for him. Corona suggested Matthew 
 Arnold ; but Mary said that was irreverent. 
 Corona inquired if Launcelot were not a lit 
 tle disreputable ; but Mary thought not. 
 Sometimes they compromised on Matthew 
 Launcelot. And these were slight matters. 
 And the dog stayed. In fact, he stayed 
 hard. Whatever his unrelated experience 
 during his brief absence in Boston, all the 
 expressmen of Fairharbor could not have 
 won him from Corona s back-door now. He 
 proved to be a reserved, inscrutable charac 
 ter, with no undue amount of intellect, but 
 much repressed affection, with which he 
 
100 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 honored Corona in an unenthusiastic, but 
 dogged way. Corona yielded to him the 
 swift obedience of love. In short, Matthew 
 Launcelot soon became the master of the 
 house. " And Puelvir is the mistress/ Co 
 rona would say, when she and Mary wan 
 dered away days at a time in the wide June 
 weather, delighted to know that they did 
 not know what they should have for dinner, 
 and scorning to ask what to-morrow s break 
 fast would resemble. 
 
 To-day they scale the great cliffs of the 
 headland, emancipated in beach-dresses ; 
 eager to climb for the sheer love of climb 
 ing, that, like the love of music, foreign 
 missions, or flirtation, is native to the soul. 
 To-morrow they will have the weeds that 
 burn beneath the morning sun on the rug 
 ged eastern beaches, and, gathering them 
 idly, fling themselves upon the rocks to see 
 the third wave rear in sentient, it seems 
 a palpitating sea-horse, ramping beneath 
 the bridle of the strong head-wind. And 
 Corona, in a low voice, quotes : 
 
MAJtY. :10d 
 
 " Like senseless weeds that rise and fall 
 Upon Thine awful tides ; are we 
 No more then, after all ? " 
 
 Then, sauntering home at sunset, with the 
 tiny corpses of color that one never knows 
 whether it is worth while to save, they 
 gather like children over the white basin 
 that Puella brings, to see the resurrection of 
 the dead. Crimson, olive, corn, and car 
 mine, brown and amber, and the burning 
 green draw breath like souls. And, watch 
 ing these, they faintly hear the mighty 
 breakers left behind upon the now dark 
 ened and deserted shore ; and think how 
 large the wave, how small the weed ; and 
 think, perhaps, how long is life, how short 
 its summer, how large denial is, how small 
 is joy ; and grow a little sentimental as the 
 night comes, and the moon lifts her shoul 
 ders over the hill, and so wander to separate 
 windows in the little gray parlor, and sit si 
 lent for a while, till the summer people start 
 a merry song upon the beach, or one wan 
 ders up to ask, will they join the sailing- 
 
102 AN OLD MXI&S PARADISE. 
 
 party ? or Zero s mo ther sends him over 
 with some flowers ; or Puella knocks to say 
 that folks are trying to make a call, but 
 Matthew Launcelot is barkin at the brooch 
 and waltzin at it till the hosses rared and 
 kicked him and she wished they would. 
 
 Or they will visit every lighthouse in the 
 harbor, and talk with every keeper, and 
 hear every story of the great storm, the 
 greater wrecks, the strangling fogs, the 
 enormous desolateness, and the meagre sal 
 ary of the keeper s life. 
 
 Or they will row two miles in the " Gull s 
 Wing" (that is Corona s dory), and wander 
 up and down the opposite harbor shore, in 
 the heart of one of Massachusetts densest 
 forests, to rest the eyes in green and mute 
 ness, from the daily splendor of the shade- 
 less, shattered sea. 
 
 Or they will get out of something for sup 
 per, the day Puella takes her " afternoon," 
 and tilt anxiously upon the rocks for two 
 hours in search of dinners, with their long, 
 unaccustomed, cruel poles; the wind in 
 
MARY. 103 
 
 their faces, the sun in their hearts, the sum 
 mer in their eyes ; and catch just three be 
 tween them ; and, being upon the verge of 
 starvation, fry them savagely for supper ; 
 having one apiece, and heroically saving the 
 smallest for Matthew Launcelot. 
 
 Or they heard steps upon the rocks last 
 night ; or Matthew barked at eleven ; or 
 oars dipped across the harbor at three, with 
 a stealthiness that bespoke unusual errands. 
 And the two women, listening breathless, 
 each from her blue or green bedchamber, in 
 the black, defenseless night, heard the un 
 seen boat draw near and nearer to the un 
 seen shore ; and thought of foreign sailors 
 the French, the Spaniard, and the " Por- 
 tugee " of all the lawless life that floats 
 into Fairharbor from all quarters of the 
 reckless globe ; and say to-day at breakfast 
 that they will not live so any longer, and, 
 without further deference to Puella s super 
 stitions, vow to be accomplished seven-shoot 
 ers before another evening falls, and will go 
 together to " the city " for that revolver. 
 
104 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 " The city " is a mile away. Mary and 
 Corona row over after supper, in the death 
 of the hot day. Matthew Launcelot insists 
 upon accompanying them ; and when he gets 
 midway of the burning water is frightened 
 out of whatever wits he has, and does his 
 best to upset the " Gull s Wing/ with such 
 efficiency that for one breathless moment 
 Corona s helpless oars fly from the rebellious 
 current, and she sees the colors of her har 
 bor as one sees the face of sudden death, 
 but mainly thinks, What will Mary s mother 
 do? 
 
 Mary, however, makes a manful grasp at 
 Matthew Launcelot s palpitating tan throat, 
 and holds him thereafter in a grip more of 
 sorrow than of love, until they land. Mat 
 thew Launcelot is uncommonly muddy, and 
 Mary s dress is white. 
 
 But yet how wonderful, how wonderful it 
 d r Corona rows peacefully and powerfully 
 after the incident of Matthew Launcelot. 
 The sun sinks. The harbor lights leap out 
 r gold and green and brave blood-red. 
 
MARY. 105 
 
 The tired fishermen creep home with lan 
 guid sail. Picturesque old men, with heavy 
 beards, dip their black boats to the gunwale 
 for their lobster-pots, which come up flash 
 ing every color in the prism to the level 
 light. Pleasure parties sweep by singing. 
 The waves take on the depths of jewels 
 tender and terrible ; but the sky is like a 
 mighty flower. 
 
 As they near the little town, the colors 
 darken and alter impressively. Huge 
 schooners, barks, and ships at anchor block 
 their Avay. Mary s white hand on the tiller 
 steers skilfully and silently beneath the hot 
 breath of panting steamers. Rough sailors 
 from the crowded decks look down at them 
 with grave and idle interest. Two spring 
 upon the wharf to help the ladies up the 
 narrow ladder, for the tide is low. They 
 lift their hats ; arid one of them ties the 
 " Gull s Wing/ which he promises to watch. 
 
 They walk, with swifter steps than per 
 haps need be, through the throngs of loafers 
 in the narrow streets. There are some hard 
 
106 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 faces miserable men ! They hang about 
 the rum-shops and the sailors hells. No 
 where else does Corona see such faces. The 
 two women draw their veils a little, and pass 
 like two tall, shining lilies up the sultry, un 
 clean street. They need not fear. 
 
 "There are two things," said a Cape Cod 
 boy, " that a sailor will give his life for, will 
 die to defend. One is a beautiful vessel; 
 the other a delicate lady." 
 
 Matthew Launcelot accompanied them, 
 walking gravely through the crooked, busy 
 streets, to the revolver shop. The revolver 
 shop was a jeweler s. 
 
 " Know how to shoot?" asked the jew 
 eler. 
 
 " Oh ! no," said Corona, calmly ; " but 
 you can teach me." 
 
 The jeweler did not seem so sure of this, 
 but kindly gave the lady a few instructions. 
 He was more amused than Corona could see 
 reason for being. She took her pistol and 
 her lesson, however, and hurried away, tri 
 umphant. As they left the store, coming 
 
MARY. 107 
 
 out into the now lighted and showy little 
 town, drops struck their faces. 
 
 " It s beginning to rain ! " cried Mary. 
 
 "If I ve got to row home in a blow/ said 
 Corona, " we cannot take this dog. He 
 might be too much for you to hold, if it is 
 rough. I think he must be sea-sick, he acts 
 so. What shall we do ? " 
 
 " I should send him home by some 
 thing," suggested Mary, vaguely. 
 
 " He might go by the omnibus," said Co 
 rona. 
 
 The omnibus was passing. So Matthew 
 Launcelot went home by land. 
 
 " Lost your dog, eh ? " asked the polite 
 sailor, when he untied the boat. 
 
 " Why, I d have rowed you over, dog and 
 all. You d ought to learn him. A dog has to 
 be learned to be a sailor, like folks. Mine 11 
 climb the riggin now, well as me, most. Fust 
 time I took him to the Banks, he was so sick 
 we had to set up nights with him. I d pull 
 pretty well, if I was you. It s comin up a 
 breeze of wind." 
 
108 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 It was, indeed. Corona, pushing out into 
 the harbor, found that the glory of the hour 
 had gone. Clouds flew low, like great birds, 
 and seemed to flap their dense gray wings. 
 The water had grown ominously dark. The 
 mouth of the harbor gaped, and its throat 
 lay yellow and livid an ugly look from 
 shore to shore. The waves began to rise. 
 They took on veils of brown and purple- 
 black. Corona rowed hard. She rowed 
 hard, but the wind helped her, for the 
 shower lay in the northwest and chased her 
 on. In the gloom and opacity of sky and 
 sea and shore Mary s dress and her slender 
 fingers looked singularly white and trans 
 parent, and seemed to light the way. The 
 sailors in the schooners, as the " Gull s 
 Wing " shot by, looked over a little anx 
 iously, it seemed, this time. One old fisher 
 man, who crossed them, clinging to his furl 
 ing, flapping sail, said, audibly, to his boy at 
 the tiller, - 
 
 " Them gals had better look out." 
 Corona rows steadily. Once in a while 
 
MARY. 109 
 
 she thinks of Mary s mother. But she is 
 not at heart afraid. She and the " Gull s 
 Wing " have taken too many a wild flight 
 together. She sees the flying shore, the 
 crowding cloud, the electric harbor throat, 
 exultantly. She is in them, of them. She 
 thrills with kinship to them; she quivers 
 with the passion of the sea. 
 
 And now the Light, the reef, the buoy, 
 the Neck, the Cut, the red buoy, and the 
 Cove plunge by. Drops are on the water 
 two miles off upon the other shore. The 
 low brown cottage looks through the spray 
 of the deep and angry waves, into whose 
 heart the " Gull s Wing " strikes right roy 
 ally. There are a few long strokes, a few 
 quick breaths, and swift between the teeth 
 of the rocks the dory makes her haven. A 
 great wave carries her high and dry upon 
 the sand. Drops hit Corona sullenly as she 
 stands, wind-blown and flushed, in her blue 
 boating-dress, to moor the boat, hand over 
 strong hand, by the pulley mooring. Sud 
 denly the two women feel the power of the 
 
110 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 wind upon them. They bend their heads 
 and run. 
 
 It is dark in the cottage. Puella is shut 
 ting doors and windows. Matthew Launce- 
 lot, offended by his aimless and anxious 
 omnibus ride, retreats to a northern window 
 and eyes the storm, but is not conversational. 
 It is very dark outside. 
 
 Now the shower comes fast. Across the 
 bay s width drops step and hasten. One 
 can see them coming like feet. Before one 
 thinks of this, they are the footsteps of an 
 army. The sultry color of the harbor s 
 mouth turns black. Then comes the down 
 pour. It is not like rain. It is a sheet of 
 white light. It falls slantwise, blown by 
 the gale. The rocks are frosted by the wet, 
 and glitter ; and then they give out all the 
 light there is. Out in front of the cottage 
 the " Gull s Wing " tears at her tether, plung 
 ing out of sight in the bosom of the wave. 
 
VIII. 
 
 HOUSE-WARMING. 
 
 " I THINK," said Corona, one day, " that 
 we must give a party." 
 
 "I would," said Mary, warmly. "The 
 shore is well filled now. People could easily 
 drive over. There are the Burtons at Wol- 
 choster, and Effie Purchase. There is Gen 
 eral Dolburn at Gride s Farm, and the Hop- 
 kinsons and the Allisons and some of that 
 set. And at Dove s Cote " 
 
 " Some time," interrupted Corona, " I 
 want to see all those people at my house ; 
 but not now, not first. There are others 
 I want to begin with. I want to ask the 
 Ranns and the Fishers, and Mrs. Jacobs and 
 Miss Thurston, and let me see ! Oh ! and 
 Mr. Morrison and some others." 
 
 " Morrison ? Thurston ? " asked Mary, 
 
112 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 blankly. She did not know these friends of 
 Corona s. Thurston was a distinguished 
 name. 
 
 " The Ranns," continued Corona, calmly, 
 " live on the hill, in that gambrel-roofed old 
 house. They catch fish. The Fishers sell 
 it, in that brown hut we passed yesterday. 
 Mrs. Jacobs does fine washing for the sum 
 mer boarders. Miss Thurston works in the 
 net factory. Then there is my dear Mrs. 
 Rowin. She is Zero s mother. Old Mr. 
 Morrison is our lobster man." 
 
 There was a silence. Mary took up Mat 
 thew Launcelot and addressed some irrele 
 vant remarks to him, which Matthew re 
 ceived with small favor ; but which served 
 as an outlet to Mary s emotions. Even 
 great failures have their great uses. 
 
 "I thought, dear," she said, at last, pa 
 thetically, " that I was prepared for you 
 almost anyhow. But I was not. I am not. 
 Well. When will you have your party ? " 
 
 " These people are my neighbors," said 
 Corona, earnestly. " I have come to live 
 
HOUSE-WARMING. 113 
 
 among them. I have no others, except the 
 boarders, who don t stay. They seem more 
 like land-sparrows than they do like neigh 
 bors. I always thought, if one had a house, 
 one would regard one s neighbors first. I 
 have chosen mine. I shall abide by my 
 choice. Besides," added Corona, " I like 
 these people. I want them in my house." 
 
 "I ve no doubt they are excellent peo 
 ple," urged Mary, hastily ; " and certainly, 
 dear, if you wish to do it, I will help you all 
 I can." " 
 
 " I shall ask Tom and Susy," added Co 
 rona. " And Effie Purchase may come, if 
 she wants to. But no one else. Too many 
 people spoil a house-warming. Let us have 
 it the last week in July." 
 
 Mary was silent. She did not like to say 
 that she hardly thought Elf would come. 
 
 On one point they differed. Mary thought 
 it necessary to christen the cottage before 
 they gave a party. 
 
 Corona could not think of any name that 
 she was willing to call the cottage by. She 
 
114 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 was not sure that she liked cottages with 
 names. 
 
 " It is a snobbish American fashion/ she 
 said. " Half of the shoddy places in the 
 country are called Wildbriars and Willow- 
 banks, and Lilybells, and such things. This 
 is a matched board cottage. I think I will 
 call it the shanty." 
 
 " The chalet would be pretty/ suggested 
 Mary. 
 
 " Why not the Eobin Redbreast ? " asked 
 Corona, severely. " Or, The Tea-chest ? 
 It s square. Or, The Fog-bank ? It s dark 
 enough. That will do. The Northeast 
 Fog-bank." 
 
 Mary said she had meant something not 
 exactly so serious ; something a little funny. 
 
 "The Oyster-Shell. Or, The Lobster- 
 Pot. Or, The Clam-bake," replied Corona. 
 
 " Well, no," said Mary. " But how would 
 you like the Maiden s Repose, for instance ? " 
 
 " I will call it the Old Maid s Paradise," 
 said Corona, after some thought. " That 
 will do. Presents her compliments, and 
 
HOUSE-WARMING. 115 
 
 would be happy to see you in Paradise. 
 Yes. I will consent to the Old Maid s Para 
 dise." 
 
 The last week in July came in swift sea 
 son, and with it the day appointed for Co 
 rona s party. With it, too, came Tom ; with 
 it Susy and the baby (whom Corona did n t 
 ask) ; with it also Miss Purchase of Wol- 
 chester. With it a placid harbor and a 
 windless east; the south breeze cooled 
 across miles of water for burning inland 
 cheeks ; the sky at rest, the tide at the full, 
 and the last wild roses flaring on the soft 
 gray color of the big bowlder and in the 
 thicket by the gate. Effie Purchase said 
 they looked like torches. She said she 
 never saw anything so delightful. And 
 Susy kissed Corona often ; but Tom kissed 
 her twice. Corona was happy. When she 
 found that everybody treated her party with 
 respect, she was very happy. 
 
 And Mary helped Puella with the cake. 
 
 "It s just one of her ways," said Puella 
 to Mary, as they rolled the frosting. " It 
 
116 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 ain t so much havin the folks. I don t 
 mind that. That s well enough, if she 
 wants em. The house is hern, and the 
 neighbors set by her to be uncommon kind 
 when we first corne down. But what I 
 can t consider is wastin cake like this here 
 you call French kisses on them that 11 never 
 know it took the whites of one dozen eggs 
 to a single receipt. And whatever am I to 
 do with the yolks, in a house where none of 
 ye will set eyes on custard-pudden, nor yet 
 on pies ? " 
 
 Corona s cottage looked pleasant to the 
 twenty guests, who came strolling up by 
 twos and threes, prompt to the early coun 
 try hour of their invitation. To them there 
 was a certain mystery about this Lilliputian 
 hospitality. The tiny house was not as 
 large as some of the homes from which they 
 came. But there were no tall ferns stand 
 ing in tall vases on their piazzas, and the 
 wild briar and woodbine, the red rose- 
 seeds, and the delicate cranberry-vines that 
 wreathed the posts and door had a perplex- 
 
HOUSE-WARMING. 117 
 
 ing, festive look. They had not thought 
 of cranberries in relation to their capacities 
 for household art decoration. And wild 
 roses principally multiplied and eat out the 
 grass. So with the Chinese lanterns on the 
 bowlder and veranda, and on the parlor 
 ceiling, where they shed a softened and 
 transforming light upon the happy faces, 
 upturned to wonder if they smoked the 
 walls. 
 
 " She must have give twenty-five cents 
 apiece for them," thought old Mr. Morrison. 
 
 " Father Morrison," said Corona, coming 
 up just then (it was one of the pretty cus 
 toms of Fairh arbor to call the old men 
 father ; and Corona stood with a certain 
 reverence, in her plain light silk dress, be 
 fore the seated figure of the old fisher 
 man), " Father Morrison, can t you tell us 
 something of the great gale of 39 ? My 
 friends from home want to hear about a 
 great gale." 
 
 u Well," said the old man, after a pause 
 and without rising, " don t know but I 
 
118 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 could. But I ain t no gret of a talker. 
 I m a man of few words. But I saw the 
 gale. Yes ! I was a boy then. I was thirty 
 years old." 
 
 Tom came up with Susy. And Elf Pur 
 chase brought the sailor, whom she was en 
 tertaining with a candid charm and sweet 
 ness that the young fellows in " society " at 
 Wolchester had never seen upon her pretty 
 face. Elf brought up her sailor, and sat on 
 a divan near the old man s feet to listen. It 
 is perhaps mat apropos to talk about " di 
 vans " in Corona s house, since, in truth, I 
 mean by that, in this instance, to say a 
 soap-box stuffed with excelsior and covered 
 with what Corona called " green turkey red." 
 But Mary corrected her, saying it was " tur 
 key green." 
 
 " It come up o Sunday," said Father 
 Morrison, looking off over Elf s young head 
 with blank, far-seeing eyes. " It come up o 
 Sunday, in Jenooary no, in December 
 and it blew till Tuesday steady. It blew like 
 all possessed till Tuesday night. Nobody 
 
HO USE- WARMING. 119 
 
 could stop it, nor help it, nor do nothin to 
 it. Nobody can t with a breeze o wind. 
 That s where a breeze o wind is different 
 from most other trials that the A mighty 
 sends on us, his critters. I was ashore ; but 
 my father and my brothers two on em 
 was afloat. They just got in and anchored 
 there. Zero, stand out and let this young 
 woman (pointing to Miss Effie) see where. 
 They was in the same pickle with the rest. 
 There was over eighty vessels in. Darsen t 
 stay out. Couldn t get in. It blew em 
 agin t other shore, for it come from the 
 sou -sou east. Well, I don t know s I ve 
 much to tell. Only I stood on shore. My 
 wife was with me, and she held the baby. 
 My brother s wife was there too the mar 
 ried one and his baby. She cried and 
 took on, for we could see em drag their ao,- 
 chor. Lots of them dragged their anchor. 
 Some just swamped. Some drifted to Long 
 Beach. It was freezin cold and the riggin 
 was slippery as he , as slippery. My 
 brother s wife was a young thing, and sot a 
 
120 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 sight by him. We see him clingin to the 
 riggin . There warn t no boat could live to 
 stir to em. Fifty vessels went down in that 
 there gale, sir, right in this harbor ; and fifty 
 men was drowned. My father was among 
 em, and the boys both the boys. We 
 could see em droppin off. 
 
 " Wednesday it calmed down," added 
 Father Morrison, after a silence which no 
 one broke, " and I took the widder home. 
 I had her an the young one to look to. I 
 had six of my own. It come hard. Then 
 there was mother. Goin home to tell her 
 was the worst And I hed her to keep, too. 
 But we got along. It was a great while 
 ago. Things seem easier when they hap 
 pened so long ago, young lady. That s a 
 curious thing. You don t understand it; 
 but sea-folks do, such a sight of things keep 
 happenin to em. Sea-folks have to under 
 stand a good many things, in my opinion, 
 that the Lord thought land-folks had n t got 
 the wit to see into. So he never called it 
 of em. No, he did n t. No, no." 
 
HOUSE-WARMING. 121 
 
 " You have had a hard life, sir. Would 
 you like to live ashore, then ? " asked Elf, 
 thoughtfully. She lifted her porcelain pro 
 file nearer to the old man s granite face. 
 She had on something transparent and 
 white. Her breath came with some timid 
 ity. She looked like an ideal questioning a 
 fact. 
 
 "Live ashore!" cried Father Morrison. 
 " LIVE ASHORE ! When I come in for my 
 buryin , young woman, I s pose I must 
 Yes, yes, yes. I take it I ve got to live 
 ashore a while then. So long as I can han 
 dle an oar or push a dory off, no shore for 
 
 me." 
 
 "If it s nothin but lobsters," added 
 Father Morrison, reflectively, " and you ve 
 been too old for the Banks this some time 
 sence ; yes, ef it s nothin but lobsters, I d 
 rather die a lobsterer yes, yes, I d rather 
 die a lobster than live a landlubber. Yes, 
 yes, yes." 
 
 Susy, on the piazza, had the cranberry 
 vines in her hand just then. She was talk- 
 
122 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 ing to Miss Thurston. Miss Thurston was 
 a large, lonely, homely woman, with the 
 anxious eyes that Susy noticed most of the 
 women in Fairharbor seemed to have. Susy 
 was saying how beautiful were the cran 
 berry vines. She had never seen any before. 
 She swept the long, delicate, curving fronds 
 through her delicate fingers, as she spoke. 
 
 " I work in the net factory," said Jane 
 Thurston, impulsively, glancing at her own 
 heavy, toil-cut fingers. " I don t have much 
 time to think if things are pretty. There s 
 a good many pretty things in this house. I 
 like to look around. Miss Corona is so 
 neighborly ! I never saw cranberries used 
 for trimmings before." 
 
 " None of us have, I think," said Susy, 
 gently. 
 
 " We pick em to sell," said Miss Thurs 
 ton. 
 
 " Are they Does it pay for the trou 
 ble ? " asked Susy, hesitatingly. 
 
 " We give him a half. We get a half 
 for picking. He s the man that owns the 
 
HO USE- WARMING. 123 
 
 meadow. I s pose he s a right to his prop 
 erty, like other folks. I m not findin fault. 
 It s children do it mostly ; but women-folks 
 don t have any too many ways of earnin . 
 Mis Rowin and I and some other ladies go 
 out once in a while. I go after I get home 
 from the factory, of a Saturday. We make 
 a little. It s such uncertain work in the 
 net factory. They don t run winters. 
 Then spring and fall, when the fleets come 
 in, we re drove so. The men come with 
 their nets broke, and are in a hurry to get 
 mended up. Sometimes we work very late. 
 I get four dollars a week. I ll show you 
 over the factory, with pleasure, if you d 
 like to see it. Most of the girls are 
 younger than me. Most of them get mar 
 ried after a while. Some of em pack salt 
 cod instid." 
 
 " It s a hard life for a woman living by 
 the sea," said Susy, softly. 
 
 " It s dreadful being a woman by the 
 sea," said Jane Thurston, impetuously, be 
 neath her breath. 
 
124 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 " Ten years ago," said Corona to Susy, 
 afterward, " that poor soul had a lover. 
 Yes ! You would n t think it. He was lost 
 in a fog at the Grand Banks the week they 
 were going to be married. And then she 
 says, it s so much worse if they do marry. 
 It is no uncommon thing here for all the 
 men in a family to be swept off within a 
 few years. That Mrs. Rann, Tom enter 
 tained so nicely, lost her husband and four 
 sons in one gale." 
 
 66 What a dismal place to live in ! " cried 
 Susy. Corona made no answer. She did 
 not think so. At any rate, her little party 
 was not dismal. She watched the quiet 
 pleasure of her guests with a certain vanity 
 of possession. She rejoiced in their keen 
 wit and fine, observant eyes. She was 
 proud of their ease and gentle dignity, their 
 sturdy self-respect, their patience under sor 
 row, their courage in denial, their almost 
 unbounded generosity to each other, and 
 their well-developed trust in Heaveu. All 
 the traits which she knew so well in them 
 
HOUSE- WARMING. 125 
 
 seemed to her to shine behind their holiday 
 clothes and manners. She wondered if her 
 friends did not envy her such neighbors. 
 She helped Zero to ice-cream with the finest 
 thrill of hospitality that Paradise had expe 
 rienced yet. She would have found it diffi 
 cult to say what she thought when, looking 
 over, she saw Elf Purchase hovering like 
 a bird in her thin dress breaking bon-bons 
 with Father Morrison in the corner, and 
 Jane Thurston, laughing, looking on ; Mrs 
 Rowin examining the Venetian views ; and 
 Charley Rann showing Jenny Fisher the il 
 lustrated " Rab," pointing out the striking 
 resemblance between that hero and Matthew 
 Launcelot, while Jenny turned the leaves to 
 see if Ailsie died. Corona had theories of 
 her own about " society," which she seldom 
 or never saw in practice and of which she 
 did not often talk. To-night she thought 
 about them a little ; but the tears came, and 
 she had to stop. So she asked Zero to tell 
 them about the sea-serpent. 
 
 " He was discovered off rny rocks," said 
 
126 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 Corona. "It was in 1817 my first sea 
 son." And nobody but old Father Morrison 
 saw her modest joke. But he laughed till 
 Zero had finished the story, and the " Ser 
 pent " was well out of the Harbor, after a 
 three weeks visit. 
 
 "I always like to be with good folks," 
 said Father Morrison, standing in the door 
 way to say good-night. " I like to see good 
 folks. Misery loves company." 
 
 When the party was over, and Corona s 
 good neighbors were going away, she and 
 Tom, Susy, Mary, and Elf stood at the gray 
 parlor windows. There was faint moonlight 
 on the bowlder; on the grass over which 
 the people were passing quietly ; on the 
 lonely street up which they strolled to their 
 poor homes ; and on the terrible sea by 
 which they lived and in which (God knew !) 
 they might be buried. Far out upon the 
 headland the great red Light stood to watch 
 them, standing with clasped arms between 
 them and that which lay beyond. The few 
 fortunate people in the cottage watched 
 
HOUSE-WARMING. 127 
 
 them, too, till they had passed from sight. 
 No one spoke at first. By and by Mary 
 said the sea was rising, and that there was 
 a fog-horn out beyond the bar. 
 
 Late that evening there was a knock at 
 Corona s door. It was Tom. She admitted 
 him, wondering; and he sat down in the 
 deck-chair (Corona slept in the parlor that 
 night), and idly drawled : 
 
 " There seems to be a little confusion 
 in this family about that dog. Miss Mary 
 says " 
 
 Oh ! the dog. Corona had never remem 
 bered him till that, moment. It was a 
 dreadful moment. She faced it as well as 
 she could. There was nothing for it but 
 to tell Tom the whole story. 
 
 " Never again," finished Corona, "will I 
 do anything in the world if it is only to 
 button my boots, Tom, dear on the ground 
 that people will never know it. So far as 
 my experience goes, people always find out 
 everything ; everything that ever happens. 
 
128 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 I m glad they do. I d rather they would. 
 I don t icant anything that the whole world 
 can t find out, and welcome. But, Tom, 
 darling, I did n t know what to do ; and I 
 thought you would n t come (you don t 
 often, you know) ; and Mary said to love 
 him for her sake" 
 
 Such roars of laughter interrupted Co 
 rona, that Paradise shook. Susy called to 
 know what on EARTH And Matthew 
 Launcelot was so disturbed, that Puelvir 
 told him if he did n t stop that barkin and 
 waltzin she d sell him to the Raspberry- 
 man. For reasons known only to herself, 
 the most direful threats in which Puelvir 
 ever indulged concerned the Raspberry- 
 man. He was held over Matthew Laurice- 
 lot s head like ghosts over refractory chil 
 dren by unamiable nursery-maids. The 
 Raspberry-man was a gentle, inoffensive 
 man, extremely kind to Matthew Laurice- 
 lot. But he was also extremely kind to 
 jpuelvir 
 
IX. 
 
 HALF-MAST. 
 
 THE summer is going fast, like youth, 
 first love, or hot waffles. 
 
 Elf Purchase gives utterance to this dar 
 ing and dignified sentiment, one silver 
 morning. Elf has stayed on after the 
 party. Two guests at a time constitute the 
 wildest dissipation in Paradise. When Elf 
 first came, she quoted - 
 
 " Only two in the Garden walked, 
 And with snake and seraph talked " 
 
 and felt a little in the way, as the serpent 
 must himself, she said, to begin with. But 
 to stay in Fairharbor is as easy as sinning. 
 Effie stayed. To-morrow she can stay no 
 longer. Mary and Corona, Puelvir and 
 Matthew Launcelot will celebrate her last 
 day among them. What shall they do ? 
 
130 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 As I said, it is a silver day. At least, it is 
 a silver morning. 
 
 The fog-bell has tolled all night. In the 
 bursting of the dawn it is tolling still. I 
 should not say this, either; for the dawn 
 cannot burst in a fog. It steals, it sifts, it 
 saturates ; it scintillates by and by. Elf 
 watches it luxuriously from the Old Maid s 
 Paradise, turning idly on the pillows, with 
 the muslin curtain pushed and thrust behind 
 her, like a fragment of the fog itself. Elf 
 is young and happy. She is sure the fog 
 will lift. She calls out, merrily : 
 
 "Girls! Oh! girls! We ll have a 
 moonlight row. I ll row. That s what 
 we 11 do to celebrate." 
 
 Mary asks if they shall begin that min 
 ute ; but Elf hardly hears the severe re 
 joinder. 
 
 The fog does not lift like this at Gride s 
 Farm or Wolchester. She is passionate 
 with ecstasy. She is swept into the feeling 
 of the morning. Her young eyes impetu 
 ously summon the hidden world. 
 
HALF-MAST. 131 
 
 Slowly now, then more swiftly, to her 
 sweet autocracy it comes obedient. The 
 huge. gray, dense, depressing mass on which 
 she looks lightens imperceptibly at first, 
 and with inimitable delicacy more like the 
 change of color on a girl s brow than like 
 any other transformation that we know. 
 Flushes of gold, silver, crystal, and of gold 
 again, shoot over the illuminated mist. It 
 palpitates with life. The chilly gray has 
 quite gone, like a body slipping from a soul. 
 Still, as yet nothing is to be seen nothing 
 but the mystery of struggling day. It is 
 the old miracle re-wrought. Darkness was 
 upon the face of the waters. But God said : 
 " Let there be light." As one watches, the 
 deepening color heaves gently, like a wo 
 man s breast. Who but a woman could 
 battle so with Fate to keep her veil about 
 her? See how mute she stands, but 
 haughty too, defended with a sweet defi 
 ance ! And now how graciously, with what 
 a glamour will she yield ! For the time has 
 come ; the sun exists ; the morning is im 
 perious. 
 
132 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 And now a beautiful transparence strikes 
 and stirs the veil which was fog, which was 
 mist, which was light, which was color, 
 which is no longer any of these, but a gar 
 ment of spun glass, for a queen to wear at 
 her crowning. And, quivering behind it, 
 the young world lifts her head. 
 
 There is color now upon the sky ; upon 
 the green, reluctant shore ; upon the drip 
 ping cliffs, that are ruddy and rich of hue. 
 These show themselves in moods at first, 
 uncertainly. Slender outlines of the tallest 
 masts pierce through. Then the sails 
 gray, black, tan-color, and spotless white 
 define themselves, shading, as if hit with a 
 huge blender, from dark to light. Over 
 head are lakes and pools of burning blue. 
 The Harbor is alive with vessels. They 
 turn their heads, and step out confidently 
 into the still lingering mists. They appear 
 and disappear mysteriously as they go. 
 The waves touch the feet of the cliffs with 
 a gentle sound. The water will be clean 
 and clear. The wind is low ; the sun is 
 
HALF-MAST. 133 
 
 high; and now clouds flit, but the mist is 
 gone. Only still from beyond the Great 
 Red Light, that has watched all night, the 
 fog-bell strikes the warning of the off-shore 
 fog no harbored eye can see. 
 
 " It gives me a singular feeling always," 
 said Mary, " to hear that bell tolling on a 
 perfectly clear day." 
 
 "It is not clear to the bell," replied Co 
 rona. " Safe people do not see dangers." 
 
 " If you moralize, I shall take the noon 
 train," said Effie. 
 
 " A silver morning is apt to make a gray 
 day," pursued Corona, dreamily, from the 
 hammock on the piazza. " Oh ! tell me 
 what is there like it ? I think it would be 
 impossible to be wicked or restless or mis 
 erable or rebellious, on a gray day in Fair- 
 harbor." 
 
 Corona was right about the gray. Noth 
 ing could possess a calmer charm. The 
 gray days are the mesmerists of sea and 
 summer. The soft, gradual disappearance 
 of the vivid sheets of blue above has a cer- 
 
134 AN OLD MAID S PAXAD2SE. 
 
 tain mystery, like the concealment of an 
 other ocean, " the waters that are above the 
 waters" still remaining. The hot, direct 
 power of the sun is slowly baffled. The oc 
 cupants of Paradise steal out at first well 
 protected as from a fire which they do not 
 find ; for, suddenly, as they stand clustered 
 under their bright umbrellas and shade-hats, 
 to dare the morning glare upon the white 
 cliff, there is no sun to dare. Soft clouds, 
 pearl and ash color, are running into each 
 other s arms. The heavens are a tender 
 shield above them. The feminine mood of 
 the receptive and reflective water turns 
 swiftly pale and neutral. The rocks take a 
 deeper hue upon their steel and iron cheeks. 
 Dark shadows creep along the fresh-cut and 
 no longer brilliant grass. Shapes of shad 
 ows, too, pursue each other up and down 
 the beach, left broad by the retreating tide. 
 Sea and shore and sky are full of " middle 
 tones." Only the unaccustomed eye could 
 call this the negation of color. To the lover 
 of the gray days, the repression and the pas- 
 
HALF-MAST. 135 
 
 sion and the power of tint and shade are 
 intense. 
 
 The three women doff their useless hats, 
 and, with foreheads bare to the low, keen, 
 eastern wind, wander away the morning 
 long, over the beach, the hill, the Point, 
 the rich and rugged shore, getting them 
 selves as much tanned as possible " to 
 keep up the values of the picture," Elf said. 
 Even Matthew Launcelot approves the ab 
 sence of the August sun, and seems to ex 
 tend a dignified recognition of its courtesy 
 to Heaven, though plainly feeling it no more 
 than he deserves. He looks over Mary s 
 shoulder with a critical air when she flings 
 herself down in the great huckleberry pas 
 ture on the ridge, to read what Byron and 
 Celia Thaxter, Wordsworth, Barry Cornwall, 
 and Jean Ingelow will say about the sea. 
 Matthew Launcelot was in some haste to ac 
 company the ladies this morning, for Puel- 
 vir said the Easpberry Man was driving 
 down the road. Matthew Launcelot proves 
 himself peculiarly skilled in eating buckle- 
 
136 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 berries off the bush. This exciting incident 
 delights the little company. Who would 
 think of anything more grave to-day ? 
 Wordsworth and Jean Ingelow may stay in 
 the thicket, and be " intense " and " ear 
 nest" by themselves. 
 
 The gray day does not live long. In its 
 stead there begins to creep up into the 
 huckleberry pasture, a soul and a sense un 
 known till now to the August shore. Elf 
 cries that this is a new page in the Poem 
 of Fairharbor, and she will never go home 
 till she has found out what it means. 
 
 " It means the Indian Summer, by and 
 by," said Corona, slowly. 
 
 The wind has shifted a little. It trembles 
 from the southeast to the south. There is 
 still a dash of salt in the air; but the air 
 and the dash are gentle. The gray day has 
 grown gold as Florida. Up here on the 
 hill, it seems peculiarly, pungently sweet, 
 and the Harbor,, lying below, seems to be 
 blossoming and odorous, like a foreign 
 flower they have never seen before. A 
 
HALF-MAST. 137 
 
 breath of fog exhales from one knows not 
 where thin, warm, and shifting ; scarce 
 enough to jog the fog-bell gently now and 
 then. 
 
 " As if it were calling the sailors to din 
 ner," suggests Elf ; " but usually I think it 
 is burying them all." 
 
 The water as she speaks becomes bright 
 a blur of light. It is too bright to be 
 watched. Down on the rocks, ladies in red 
 jackets lie reading lazily beneath Japanese 
 umbrellas. The wind strengthens. Even 
 Celia Thaxter s pages will not keep their 
 poise in Mary s hands ; for Mary will begin 
 to read, and Elf will walk, and Corona will 
 go with her. Even Matthew Launcelot 
 partakes of an extra course of blueberries, 
 for the day has struck a key to which the 
 nerve must start and vibrate. 
 
 The cattle browsing on the Point are cut 
 clear against the sky. The beach is still 
 bare and warm. Shoreward the water is a 
 vivid green. At times the sky and sea have 
 an indefinite, achromatic appearance, neither 
 
138 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 blue nor gray nor white. A mullein at Co 
 rona s feet has died, and stands brown, stiff, 
 
 ^ 
 
 sere, and stark against the perspective of 
 the Point. Flocks of swallows beat the air. 
 They are flying southward. They settle on 
 the roofs of Mr. Fisher s barn, on Mrs. Row- 
 in s dead cornfield, on the rigging of the lit 
 tle yacht the summer people have anchored 
 off the Cove. 
 
 Far down, the " Gull s Wing " moves mus 
 ingly about her mooring, with the skiff at 
 her side. The skiff looks like a baby. The 
 dingy city, too, seen from this height, looks 
 small and far and fair. The fishermen s 
 homes have a certain radiance in the ideal 
 izing air. The Old Maid s Paradise seems 
 to nestle confidingly against the summer 
 sky. 
 
 Corona, beneath her breath, says " There 
 is time yet, time yet," as they clamber down 
 the hill, and wade the yellow sand of the 
 upper beach, and leap the stone walls that 
 everybody, including the picturesque cattle, 
 feels at liberty to tumble down and cross, 
 
HALF-MAST. 139 
 
 and so come slowly home, to find Puelvir s 
 chowder as perfect as her temper, though 
 the dinner-bell rang wildly toward the hill 
 an hour since. 
 
 Ah ! then, how luxurious the colors of 
 the shaded, silent house. Delicious to get 
 out of hot beach-dresses and down into the 
 surf before the chowder, and come to dinner 
 with undried hair for which no one shall 
 apologize, and, in the unbelted white wrap 
 per, or the cool and dainty dressing-sacque, 
 wander about the free, delightful, manless 
 house. 
 
 " How perfect to be three women to 
 be four women by yourselves ! " cries Elf. 
 
 The fog does not return with the after 
 noon ; but the golden weather lives. There 
 is a moon to-night, after all. Elf can have 
 her row. 
 
 The " Gull s Wing " is drawn in, after the 
 early tea, and comes leaping over the full 
 tide, between the rocks, impatient to be 
 gone. Matthew 7 Launcelot is unanimously 
 left at home. Puelvir comes down to help 
 
140 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 them off. She stands, gaunt and strong, 
 against the sky, as the boat bounds out, 
 obedient to her mighty push. The delicate 
 women look small to her, as she looks down. 
 She thinks how fine the sky, and that the 
 dishes are not done. She thinks Miss Co 
 rona s beach-dress must be washed next 
 week, and that the Harbor has a pretty look 
 against the light-house reef. Perhaps she 
 wonders what it would be like, if somebody 
 else were to " do " the tea-things on pleasant 
 nights. Perhaps her imagination takes a 
 high flight, and in a dream of ecstasy she 
 sees Aerself sailing, by moonlight too, in her 
 best bonnet, with the Raspberry Man. 
 
 The boat bounds out. 
 
 Puelvir, when the dishes are done, sits 
 faithfully, behind her maroon and indigo 
 curtains, to watch it, lest it overset. Mat 
 thew Laimcelot sits beside her. He, too, 
 watches the boat. Now and then he runs 
 his tongue out swiftly, and in again, in 
 an embarrassed way, peculiar to Matthew 
 Launcelot when suffering from disappointed 
 
HALF-MAST. 141 
 
 aspiration. He makes no other comment 
 upon the fact that he and Puelvir were not 
 wanted. 
 
 " The sky," says Puelvir, presently, aloud, 
 " looks like them old-fashioned Chiny pinks." 
 
 Matthew turns his head, confidingly, far 
 upon one side, to hear her. He is not sure 
 whether he understands Puelvir. 
 
 And still the boat bounds out powerfully ; 
 for Elf does not row very long. When she 
 has all bat twice upset the "Gull s Wing," 
 cracked a blade, lost a thole-pin, and trailed 
 her overskirt pathetically through the shin 
 ing water, she relinquishes the oars to Co 
 rona s practiced grasp. The sun is going, 
 and the Lights come out. Already the 
 moon lies pale, with her chin upon the hill. 
 But between her and the waiting Harbor 
 still rest the flushes of the sky. 
 
 " I never can talk when the sky is pink," 
 observes Elf. And Mary, leaning languidly 
 against the stern, clasps her hand behind 
 her head, and quotes, beneath her breath : 
 
142 AN OLD MAW S PARADISE. 
 
 " A rose-cloud dimly seen above, 
 
 Floating through heaven s blue depths away; 
 O sweet, fond dream of human love, 
 
 For thee I may not pray." 
 
 " Why, Mary ! " says Corona, softly. " I 
 did not know anybody in the world but my 
 self said that, when the sky is this color. " 
 
 " Why, I always have ! " cries EH, " ever 
 since I was a little girl. I thought every 
 body did. I thought it was a general way 
 of praying like a litany." 
 
 But now the rose has faded, and soft 
 brown tints steal over the bay. Every ship 
 has a shadow. Every shadow leans to the 
 western shore. Dim forms of sailors on the 
 dimmer rigging make unseen preparations 
 for a night of safety and of sleep. Pleasure- 
 boats glide by most quietly. A faint light 
 (of which Mary notices that it is tinted like 
 the tear-vessels of Cyprus, and will ask no 
 body s pardon, since Elf said that the sunset 
 was like a Turner), a thin light begins to 
 touch the mainmasts of the tall schooners 
 and the forehead of the headland nearest to 
 
HALF-MAST. 143 
 
 the unsheltered sea. It is the hour of the 
 moon. 
 
 Still Corona rows steadily, and the boat 
 bounds out. She rows against the wind. 
 They will come home easily. Nobody is 
 afraid, though the line of schooners thins a 
 little and the sailing-parties have all drifted 
 in. They row in a path of flame and will 
 follow the mounting moon. The shores 
 look denser on either hand because of the 
 glory in which they glide. Yet a wonderful 
 distinctness touches certain details. The 
 roof of the Old Maid s Paradise glitters 
 sharply, and Elf declares she can see the 
 last wild roses on the bowlder, and asks, as 
 if in confirmation of her statement, what 
 sight on earth so delicate as a wild rose seen 
 beneath the moon ? And now they approach 
 the Great Red Light. 
 
 There is something so impressive in the 
 vicinity of this Light, that they cannot talk 
 about it. Corona lifts her sparkling oars, 
 and the three women drift for a while in si 
 lence at its solemn feet, between the haven 
 
144 AN OLD MA1WS PARADISE. 
 
 and the deep. Presently, in a sweet voice, 
 to a low, monotonous air, Elf begins to sing : 
 
 " Away! away! till the shore dies out, 
 
 Till the waves and the stars are around us only 1 
 On to the bounds of the outermost space, 
 
 Where the shades of the Ancient Night sit lonely, 
 Alone on the terrible waste with God! 
 
 The broad waves stretch where the sight dies aching, 
 And the stars swing like lamps in the Judgment Hall 
 
 On ths eve of the Day of the Last Awaking ! 
 
 " We shall tread no more on the hills of earth, 
 
 We shall look no more upon earth-worn faces ; 
 Loves and hopes that were ours shall find 
 Deeper than lead sinks, burial-places. 
 We will ride like gods in the white moonlight, 
 
 While the old sea heaves with a fierce endeavor 
 To break the bonds that have made him ours. 
 Oh ! the sea is ours, is ours forever! " 
 
 As the last, long, exultant notes die upon 
 the shining air, Corona utters a swift excla 
 mation and pulls sharply on her larboard 
 oar. 
 
 A terrible shadow looms above them. An 
 instant, and they had struck a huge old 
 fishing schooner that is coming in. They 
 look up at her timidly. The " Gull s Wing " 
 
HALF-MAST. 145 
 
 quivers in the ripple from her mighty sides. 
 The color of the vessel is black. Her sails 
 are dingy and old. She is heavily weather- 
 beaten. Her crew, seven or eight in num 
 ber, cluster on her deck. They are singu 
 larly silent, Corona thinks. As the prow 
 steps solemnly by and glides away, the ves 
 sel s name shows distinctly, beneath the 
 moon. 
 
 Elf begins to sing again, lightly this time : 
 
 " A sailor s wife a sailor s star should be! " 
 
 But Corona interrupts her, with an awe 
 struck cry : 
 
 Oh, girls ! Oh, hush ! Look there ! " 
 
 She points upward, where in the shadow 
 the flag hangs low above the perfectly silent 
 crew. 
 
 " The flag" whispers Corona, " is at half- 
 mast" 
 
 But Elf and Mary do not understand. 
 
 " They put it at half-mast when some 
 body is dead. They have come home from 
 
 the Banks, and left one of the boys behind. 
 10 
 
146 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 See ! How still they are ! They will sail 
 like that the length of the Harbor. And 
 people are watching to see them come in. 
 And for a while nobody can tell which it 
 is. Only that one is gone ! Oh ! girls, let 
 us go home ! " 
 
 They turn and drift toward home. The 
 black vessel keeps still beyond them, carry 
 ing her speechless crew. Corona moors the 
 " Gull s Wing," and the three women go 
 into the blessed cottage, which sends no 
 dear one down to the terrible sea in ships. 
 They think : There, indeed, is Paradise, 
 where death is not. 
 
 Out in the moonlight the vessel keeps on 
 her solemn way. Watchers on shore come 
 to the rocks with glasses, to read her name, 
 it is so light. 
 
 It is not till morning that the message 
 comes from poor little Zero, who tries to 
 play with Matthew Launcelot, but finds that 
 is a thing which cannot be done when fa 
 thers die. 
 
 Puelvir puts a white face through the re- 
 
HALF-MAST. 147 
 
 luctant door of the happy blue bedroom, 
 and, hesitating and stammering with her 
 usually clear words, she says : 
 
 " Miss Corona, dear, the Ella B. Rowin 
 come home last night at half-mast ; but she 
 left the mate at Georges in the fog. 
 Folks told her so sudden they had ought 
 to be ought to be sold to the RASP 
 BERRY MAN ! She was helpin Miss Jacobs, 
 for she was overdrove on a frilled petticoat 
 for a lady up to the hotel, and it was late. 
 This man come in and told her : Your 
 husband s drowned at Georges just like 
 that. She s been that bad all night she 
 talks of you considerable, and the boy says 
 his sister says : Won t you come over right 
 away ? " 
 
ZERO. 
 
 " I THINK," said Corona, one day, " that 
 it is time I practiced a little with my re 
 volver." 
 
 Corona s family received this announce 
 ment with doubtful cordiality. Mary said 
 she did n t know, and Puella s emotions 
 were so much for her that she left the din 
 ing-room silently. Do we credit the ser 
 vant behind our chair with the amount of 
 self-control required not to comment upon 
 our conversation, reply to our rebuke, or 
 retort upon our temper, injustice, or suspi 
 cion? Perhaps one third of the reticence 
 and self-possession which we require of the 
 kitchen would keep the parlor in good 
 nature for a generation. 
 
 Puella, as I say, made no remarks about 
 
ZERO. 149 
 
 the pistol, and Corona proceeded to put her 
 intent into execution. 
 
 With some inward trepidation, but ex 
 treme outward calm, she brought down the 
 revolver and examined it. It proved to be 
 uncommonly rusty. Corona had a vague 
 impression that rusty revolvers kicked. She 
 accordingly withdrew her unused cartridges 
 by a slow and laborious process peculiar, I 
 think, to herself, consisting mainly of sharp 
 dabs and sidelong applications of a darning- 
 needle, much denting of her soft finger-tips, 
 and much peering over the muzzle, to see 
 how many balls were left to push out. 
 
 Mary suggested that this method of un 
 loading was not unattended with danger, 
 and proposed that they send for Zero. In 
 vain Corona inquired of what use could Zero 
 be. Zero was a man at least, he would 
 be, ten or a dozen years hence ; therefore, 
 he must know about pistols. True, by the 
 time Zero was obtained, Corona had her 
 pistol neatly (if unscientifically) emptied, 
 oiled, cleansed, and reloaded ; but Mary felt 
 safer. 
 
150 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 " There is one trouble," observed Corona, 
 as Mary and Zero came up. " I don t seem 
 to have any target down here. As soon as 
 I take aim, somebody comes and sits on a 
 rock just within range. I narrowly escaped 
 murdering two children, three nurses, an 
 old gentleman, and Mrs. Kowin s cat, since 
 you went away. The cat was with the fish 
 ing party, and watching for the perch as 
 they came off the hook. Then, whenever I 
 do fire, Matthew Launcelot runs directly 
 there, to see what it is. He thinks it is a 
 spool, or something to be played with. It 
 is very trying." 
 
 " You ken take me," said Zero. 
 
 " Take you ! " 
 
 Corona meditated on this proposal, uncer 
 tain whether it contained any latent irrev 
 erence. Zero stood regarding the pistol 
 with the listless motion and uninquisitive 
 gravity common to the shore boys, and in 
 creased by Zero s infirmity. 
 
 " Yes," said Zero. " Take me for a tar 
 get. I 11 resk it." 
 
ZERO. 151 
 
 " You may go into the house," said Co 
 rona, severely, " with Miss Mary. I do not 
 wish ^mybody around while I practice." 
 
 Zero obeyed, still without a smile. Mary 
 obeyed with alacrity. She and Zero shut 
 the front door. 
 
 " Is Puelvir in ? " called Corona. 
 
 Yes, Puella was in, quaking. 
 
 " Call in Matthew "Launcelot," cried Co 
 rona. " Lock in Matthew Launcelot. I m 
 going to shoot at the house. I wish you d 
 all go into the kitchen and shut every door. 
 I shall aim," added Corona, with dignity, 
 " at the lowest step, from a spot seven feet 
 down the cliff. I cannot hit you. Don t be 
 afraid. The steps themselves are at least 
 eight feet high. I wish you d tie Matthew 
 Launcelot." 
 
 Corona s directions were fully obeyed. 
 Mary, Puella, Zero, and the dog gathered 
 in the kitchen, with closed doors and anx 
 ious faces. Corona took her pistol with a 
 sprightly air, and stationed herself seven 
 feet below the steps, at whose least and low- 
 
152 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 est knot-hole she took her faltering aim. 
 As she crouches there in the keen salt air 
 and direct September sun, prone upon the 
 genial rock, she feels a long warm wave 
 creep and wash over her feet, and the cling 
 ing flannel dress, so used to the waves now 
 that, like sea-weeds or sea-pebbles, it never 
 looks so well as when under water. For 
 Corona no more thinks of changing her wet 
 clothes at Fairharbor than would Zero or 
 the lobsters. An indescribable touch of 
 freedom overtakes her with the sense of the 
 waves. She is exhilarated with the rude, 
 crude life that she has chosen ; combining 
 (like the model boarding-house) all the lux 
 uries of liberty with all the " comforts of a 
 home." She is intoxicated with the nature 
 of an existence in which to lie in the sun on 
 a rock and shoot a pistol badly shall be the 
 excitement of an hour and the event of a 
 day. Indeed, she thinks so much about it 
 that she quite forgets to shoot ; and Mary 
 puts her head out of the kitchen window, 
 cautiously, to remind her that it is rather 
 
ZERO. 
 
 warm three people, a dog, a cook-stove > 
 and ironing-day in a 9x8 kitchen; and 
 has she shot herself? Or does she want 
 the darning-needle, to reload with ? 
 
 Thus recalled to duty, Corona on the 
 rock pulls her reluctant trigger and aims at 
 Paradise. There is smoke explosion 
 then that most awful of human sounds, a 
 cry following a shot. 
 
 Paradise seems to shudder and rock to its 
 A No. 1 cedar posts. With that hideous 
 momentary sense of goneness for which no 
 security ever atones in this world of evil 
 chances, Corona plunges over the cliff, and 
 up the steps, and in. 
 
 "Is it Mary? Puelvir? Is it Oh! 
 Who?" 
 
 In the kitchen confusion reigns. It is 
 Matthew Launcelot. It is Matthew Launce 
 lot, tied to the ironing-table. It is Mat 
 thew Launcelot, uttering howls than which 
 Cerberus could no worse, and spinning 
 around the table-leg against an uncertain 
 background of falling flat-irons and clean 
 starched clothes. 
 
154 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 " Oh ! have I kitted him ? " 
 
 " Killed him ! " cries Puella. " No such 
 luck. He heard them shots, and thought it 
 was the Kaspberry Man. That s all. He 
 upset all your night-gownds and Miss 
 Mary s flounced petticoats, and then sot on 
 a hot flat-iron, and stood and yelled. Killed 
 him ! No. I wish you had." 
 
 And silence reigns in that kitchen for a 
 limited space of time. Zero, however, re 
 lieves the general awkwardness by propos 
 ing that they go and find how near Miss 
 Corona hit her target. So he and the two 
 ladies go out again into the sunny air, from 
 which the murderous smoke is faintly set 
 tling away. 
 
 " Think of killing a man a live man ! " 
 observes Mary. 
 
 But Corona cannot answer this original 
 remark. Into her wild mood of a moment 
 since, the dull human sense of limitation has 
 pressed and come, insisting. One is not 
 free, then, it seems, to fire at one s own 
 house in this crowded world. And does not 
 
ZERO. 155 
 
 an emotion of pain outweigh a lifetime of 
 pleasure ? 
 
 But the ball, meanwhile, is nowhere to 
 be found. Zero searches very conscien 
 tiously. He does not smile. Past the knot 
 on the lowest step ; past the step ; up an 
 other ; up the flight ; over the threshold, 
 fifteen feet above the level of the aim, a 
 small, swift, cruel black mark lurks behind 
 the front door. Zero goes in and picks up 
 the ball from under the parlor stove. He 
 says : 
 
 " Here it is, Miss Corona. I said I d resk 
 it." 
 
 After this observation, Corona cleans her 
 pistol in silence ; Puella " does over " the 
 spoiled petticoats ; Matthew Launcelot is 
 untied, to go fishing with the cat; Mary 
 wanders with a novel, which she will not 
 read; Zero plugs up the bullet-hole with 
 putty ; the morning warms, and the waves 
 loan low, and a gentle apathy settles upon 
 Paradise. 
 
 Perhaps it is owing (so unconscious are 
 
156 AN OLD MAWS PARADISE. 
 
 we of our subtlest emotions) to her prevail 
 ing sense of humiliation, that Corona under 
 takes to-day to " improve " the boy Zero. 
 She calls him to the red rock presently, 
 where she and Mary are tired discussing 
 whether Deronda should have married 
 Gwendolen. Mary has brought the conver 
 sation to an abrupt termination by the 
 unprecedented suggestion that Gwendolen 
 would n t have had him. She reverenced 
 him too much to risk losing her ideal in a 
 fact, her priest in her husband. 
 
 Zero comes, in answer to the lady s call. 
 He stands upon the red rock ; he wears 
 brown overalls and a green-check cotton 
 waist or blouse sewed into a belt the mas 
 culine uniform of Fairharbor ; he calls it a 
 "jumper." He is filliping gray and golden 
 snail-shells into the water, previously re 
 moving the snail. Mary turns her back 
 upon this entertaining occupation ; but Co 
 rona is used to it. 
 
 " Zero/ begins Corona, " do you really 
 believe in the sea-serpent?" 
 
ZERO. 157 
 
 D be a fool f I didn t/ replies Zero, 
 succinctly. " Grandfather see him." 
 
 Oh ! Your grandfather ? " 
 
 " Yes. He was the first to see him. He 
 discovered him jest oft your rock. He was 
 a boy, not so old as me, n him and another 
 boy was lookin for driftwood ; and says 
 Grandfather : There s a spar ! So they 
 went and pitched right into the old chap, 
 lickety-cut, like he d ben a spar, to spear 
 him in. I don t suppose he liked it much. 
 He wriggled and cleared. He stayed in the 
 Harbor a good spell. Folks tried to shoot 
 him. They could n t hit him," added Zero, 
 slowly ; but, seeming to feel that he was 
 trenching upon delicate ground, hastened to 
 continue : " He was seventy feet long, with 
 a head like a hoss s. There was thirty de- 
 po-si-tions," said Zero, pausing over the un 
 accustomed syllables, " to the sea-serpent. 
 It s down in a book. It s down in the hir- 
 tory of Fairharbor. Mother s got the book. 
 I 11 lend it to you. Father used to read it 
 a sight. Mother s going Down East to 
 
158 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 stay a spell ; she s so beat out since father 
 died." 
 
 " She must write to me while she s gone," 
 suggests Corona, gently. " I hope you are 
 a great comfort to your mother, Zero." 
 
 "Ma am?" 
 
 " I hope you are a comfort to your poor 
 mother." 
 
 " I have a sight of errants to run for the 
 boarders," replies Zero, reflectively. 
 
 " What are you going to be ? " continues 
 Corona, with a brisk, inspiring air. 
 
 " Ma am ? " 
 
 " Be ! What will you be, Zero ? " 
 
 " Dunno." 
 
 " Have you never thought ? Have you 
 no plans, Zero ? " 
 
 " Guess I shall jest stay round," says 
 Zero, looking puzzled. " The other fellers 
 do." 
 
 " I hope you were not one of the fel 
 lers who hooted and howled so at Matthew 
 Laimcelot, the other day, when I took him 
 to the post-office," observes Mary, rather 
 primly. " They were not polite." 
 
ZERO. 159 
 
 " The boys of the sea-shore have been 
 celebrated for their lack of repose in man 
 ner ever since the days of Homer," replies 
 Corona. " You 11 find them hooting and 
 Howling just so in the Iliad or the Odyssey 
 it does n t matter. Tom told me. Come, 
 Zero, tell us. Don t you feel any ambi 
 tion to learn a trade or anything ? It is 
 a wretched life the boys live in Fairharbor, 
 learning principally how to get drunk or 
 drowned ! " adds Corona, with some excite 
 ment. 
 
 She looks at Zero s incurious, quiet face, 
 with the home-clinging in the eyes that 
 she has learned to read so well a fatal 
 look. It would never let him go where he 
 could not get back to Fairharbor at night, 
 if he could help it. She feels sorry for the 
 little fellow ; the more so when he replies, 
 with a certain dull dignity : 
 
 " I never got drunk." 
 
 " I know some boarder boys call us dock- 
 rats," adds Zero, after a pause. 
 
 " That is impolite, too ; that is very im 
 polite." 
 
160 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 " So I told em. It did n t make any odds. 
 They 11 go away pretty soon. / went away 
 last week. I went to Dove s Cote. I was 
 glad to get back. I guess if I should go to 
 Boston I should be homesick. I m used to 
 fishes/ adds Zero, thoughtfully. 
 
 " Do you go to school, Zero ? " asks Mary. 
 
 " Winters." 
 
 " To church ? " 
 
 " Baptis . We re mostly Baptises here." 
 
 " If I lend you some books, Zero, to read 
 this winter, should you like them ? " 
 
 u Guess I shall go haddockin this winter. 
 Somebody s got to, now father can t." 
 
 " You re a little fellow to go haddocking 
 in the winter." 
 
 " I m eleven. I know a chap went when 
 he was eight. He got drownded." 
 
 " Now, if anybody helped you, would you 
 rather not be anything but a fisherman ? " 
 
 " My father was a fisherman," replies 
 Zero, with that same dull dignity. 
 
 "So was St, John/ suggests Corona, in n 
 T ow voice. 
 
ZERO. 161 
 
 " Besides/ adds Zero, returning obsti 
 nately to his first proposition, " I m used to 
 fishes." 
 
 " Will you write to Mother when she s 
 Down East, as you said ? " asks Zero, pres 
 ently, looking over his shoulder to snap the 
 last orange snail into the rising tide. " She s 
 so beat out. She can t lift the dishwater. 
 I have to heave it away for her myself. I 
 guess she 11 write to you, if you want her 
 to. I m afraid she may be homesick. She 
 ain t used to Down East." 
 
 Corona watches the boy silently as he 
 lounges away. He seems to her as truly a 
 sea creature as the snail he has left floating 
 on the tide at her feet; a soul grown into a 
 shell. 
 
 And Mary, leaning over to look into a 
 little pool in the rock where a star-fish has 
 got trapped, and lies palpitating and purple 
 beneath a bit of broad green weed, with a 
 barnacle or two and a bead of brown kelp, 
 wonders idly if Deronda would have set 
 Gwendolen to anything of this sort when 
 
 11 
 
162 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 he talked to her about " the religious life." 
 To Deronda, religion meant Jews. Mary 
 remembers that to somebody it must mean 
 boys. 
 
 But Mrs. Rowin, going Down East, writes 
 to Corona, as she has promised. She says 
 Zero is a good boy, and she never heard 
 him swear. She says she sends him to the 
 Sunday-school. She says they are so poor 
 he must go haddocking this winter. She 
 speaks of his father and of their affliction. 
 She spells " Husband," poor soul ! with a 
 capital, and " god " with a little g. 
 
XI. 
 
 THE SERPENT. 
 
 THERE was never an Eden without him. 
 And he had come. I wish it distinctly un 
 derstood that I do not mean the sea-serpent. 
 Nobody could be missed with more hearti 
 ness and less reserve than Elf; yet since 
 she had gone, and Mary and Corona had 
 resumed their placid tete-a-ttte in Paradise, 
 they were very happy. At least, Corona 
 thought they were. 
 
 One soft September morning she came 
 home from the post-office, and found a 
 brown young man in her gray parlor. He 
 was very brown, having been, as Mary has 
 tened to explain, yachting on the Maine 
 coast all summer, and now, on his return 
 home to Brooklyn, thought he would stop 
 over a train or so at Fairharbor. It oc- 
 
164 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 curred to Corona that Fairharbor was not 
 mmediately upon the route between Maine 
 and Brooklyn ; but she made no remarks to 
 this effect. Mary wore her white flannel 
 sea-dress, and a sensitive flush upon either 
 cheek. She begged Corona to stay and 
 hear Mr. Sinuous s account of the chowder 
 he got at Mt. Desert. 
 
 "Yes," said Mr. Sinuous. "We call it 
 cod-tea down there." 
 
 Corona, having treated the subject of 
 chowder in every form which presented 
 itself to her imagination, until aware that 
 she was exhausting it by an air-pump of 
 double pressure, left Mary and the Serpent 
 together, and wandered thoughtfully out 
 upon the rocks. 
 
 Puelvir saw her, and put her head 
 through the kitchen window. 
 
 " Goin to keep him for dinner, Miss 
 Corona?" 
 
 " Yes, Puelvir." 
 
 " We hain t got nothin but hash and 
 tomnytoes." 
 
THE SERPENT. 165 
 
 "Never mind, Puelvir." 
 
 " I s pose I could stir up a pudding if it 
 was n t ironin ." 
 
 " Very well, Puelvir." 
 
 Puelvir hesitated before resuming : 
 
 " Brother of her n ? " 
 
 "Oh! no." 
 
 " Any relation ? " 
 
 " I believe not, Puelvir." 
 
 " Hm m. M m in/ said Puelvir. 
 
 "I think/ said Corona, severely, "you 
 had better make the pudding, Puelvir." 
 
 "I ll leave something out, if you say so," 
 replied Puelvir. " I 11 leave out something 
 and spoil it, so he won t want to come 
 again." 
 
 The Serpent stayed to dinner. Despite 
 Puelvir s noble intentions as to her pudding, 
 he stayed to tea. He expressed himself so 
 much pleased with Fairharbor (and the 
 pudding) that he thought he should spend 
 a few days at the hotel. Corona, with the 
 soul of sweetness in her smile and the ashes 
 of bitterness in her heart, replied that she 
 
166 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 hoped he would. But Mary did not reply 
 at all. 
 
 Mr. Sinuous came to tea also the follow 
 ing day, having arranged to take the ladies 
 sailing. Puelvir put on turned preserves, 
 and let her biscuit fall. But Mr. Sinuous, 
 nothing daunted, came to breakfast next 
 morning. It was a disappointment to Puel 
 vir that the pop-overs were light as silver 
 clouds. 
 
 Only one lady went sailing that day. 
 The other sat at home alone. 
 
 It was that evening and quite late, when, 
 having bidden the brown young man good 
 night upon the piazza, in the dim half-light 
 that fell out from the little silent house, 
 Mary came to Corona s room, and began at 
 once : 
 
 " I have exiled you, dear driven up 
 here alone. It is too bad. Come down. 
 I want to talk with you. I think I believe 
 I must go home next week. You know I 
 meant to go week after. It won t make 
 much difference such a little while." 
 
THE SERPENT. 167 
 
 She put out her hand like a child who 
 deprecates a scolding. Corona took it in 
 silence, and in silence the two groped down 
 the steep, dark cottage stairs. 
 
 A shimmer of many colors filled the par 
 lor and dining-room, falling from the Jap 
 anese shades and tinted candles with which 
 Corona loved to make her evening gay. 
 Mary, in her white dress, stood among these 
 broken lights, resplendent. Her cheeks were 
 burning ; but her eyes were soft and clear. 
 
 " Mother will be expecting me," she be 
 gan, hesitating. " And it s a long journey 
 to Brooklyn to take alone. Mr. Sinuous 
 has got to go next week. He thought it 
 would be pleasanter for me to have com 
 pany. I " 
 
 Mary stopped ; but Corona said : 
 
 " I have only one thing to say, Mollie. 
 You might have told me before, I think." 
 
 " But, Corona, I had n t anything to tell 
 till now," cried Mary, lifting her head. 
 
 " We were pretty old friends," returned 
 Corona, slowly. 
 
168 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 " If there s anything I hate/ continued 
 Mary, " it is women who talk about such 
 things beforehand/ 
 
 " Kiss me, Mary/ said Corona. " You 
 are right." 
 
 " If you d asked me last week/ proceed 
 ed Mary, " I should have told you I never 
 meant to be married. Never. Why, Co, I 
 thought he was flirting with Net Sibley, 
 down at Mt. Desert, this summer long. I 
 did, indeed ! " 
 
 Those last few flushed September days 
 passed swiftly. Corona, indeed, was not 
 sorry when they were over. She had lost 
 Mary. It was as well to lose the Serpent 
 too. 
 
 Yet she felt a certain proud pleasure in it 
 all, as she sat alone so many hours, turned 
 out of her parlor, her piazza, off from her 
 bowlder and her shadow on the afternoon 
 side of the house. She was glad to have 
 happier eyes than hers watch the clovers 
 grow under the cottage. And the clovers 
 were brown now, too. She was glad to have 
 
THE SERPENT. 169 
 
 lovers in her house once, at least, and this 
 first summer. It seemed to her just the 
 baptism that her home had lacked. It was 
 no longer a pale and solitary thing. It 
 was henceforth linked to all humanity. It 
 had experience and memories. 
 
 She said " God bless you ! " when Mary 
 went away ; but nothing more. She could 
 not talk. And Mary went from Corona s 
 Eden to her own, leaning on the Serpent s 
 arm. 
 
 Matthew Launcelot, who had cordially 
 disapproved of the Serpent from the outset, 
 and had made no secret of his prejudice, 
 stationed himself upon the big bowlder, and 
 howled savagely at the omnibus till it was 
 out of sight, when, in the violence of his 
 emotions at having nothing left to bark 
 at, he tumbled off the rock, and sprained 
 his ankle ; which Puelvir bound up, with the 
 ambiguous remark that she wished it had 
 been his n. Would n t she have bandaged 
 it in red pepper or something scalt ! 
 
 It was not long after Mary s departure 
 
170 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 that Corona had a very restless night. Pos 
 sibly it was owing to the sense of renewed 
 solitude, which sat like an uninvited guest 
 within her silent rooms ; but Paradise 
 seemed to her strained ears to be beset by 
 strange, uncanny sounds. She bade Puelvir 
 double lock the doors, and herself bolted 
 the parlor windows four several times 
 apiece. She kept a light burning on the 
 stairs, and noticed where the carving-knife 
 was left, and brought up the dinner-bell 
 where it would be available, and cocked 
 her Smith & Wesson, which lay upon the 
 blue table by the blue bed. She slept with 
 difficulty, waking often. 
 
 A great many things happened to disturb 
 her. First cats. Then the tide. After 
 that, the wind. Cats again. The fog-horn; 
 breakers ; a party at the hotel. More cats. 
 Then a mouse (the first one) got into the 
 new house, and nibbled somewhere very 
 neatly. Then there was a creak in the 
 blinds ; a squeak in the window ; horses in 
 a barn ; people on the beach ; semi-distant 
 
THE SERPENT. 171 
 
 dogs ; mosquitoes ; and another cat. A 
 while after this came a variety. Something 
 breathed beneath her window. 
 
 Corona spent some time over this form of 
 midnight amusement, leaning anxious and 
 idiotic over the sill, uncertain whether to 
 ring the pistol, sharpen the dinner-bell, or 
 fire the carving-knife, and naively taking 
 comfort in the fact that Matthew Launcelot 
 slept like the useful dead, and was not at all 
 disturbed by the emergency. When, at 
 last, she had discovered that the house was 
 surrounded by those picturesque cattle from 
 the hill pasture ; and when she and Puelvir 
 had set forth, attired in a wrapper and a 
 lantern, and waded rheumatically about in 
 their rubber boots through the long, dew- 
 laden grass, to drive the intruders off ; when 
 the horses had baulked at them, and the 
 cows had hooked at them, and the whole 
 "effect" becoming obstinate, Corona had, 
 at length, driven the entire drove at the 
 point of her carving-knife into the corn 
 field, and left them there ; when the two 
 
172 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 women, feeling cold, and lame, and silly, 
 and sleepless, and of none too sweet a tem 
 per, had really fallen into the heavy rest 
 which overtakes a disturbed, escaping night 
 it was then that there sharply fell upon 
 their dreaming ears, unmistakable and un 
 merciful, the low accents of a human voice. 
 
 Corona grasped her pistol with curdling 
 blood. Puelvir ran in. Matthew Launcelot 
 awaked with an evident consciousness of 
 having been the first to warn the household, 
 and, with an extreme air of masculine 
 superiority, howled thunderously between 
 the two women and the windows. Every 
 hair on Matthew s tiny head and shoulders 
 seemed to say : " Don t fear, my dears. 1 
 am here." 
 
 " It is very singular," said Corona ; " but 
 the sound does n t stop. Listen, Puelvir ! 
 The more the dog yaps, the more noise the 
 man makes. It must be some lunatic, I fear, 
 Puelvir, or a drunken sailor. Hark ! He 
 makes the worse noise of the two." 
 
 "Well, I don t know about that" said 
 
THE SERPENT. 173 
 
 Puelvir, with some show of feeling, which 
 struck her mistress at the moment as more 
 or less misplaced. 
 
 " I m going to shoot," said Corona, 
 trembling very much. She placed her 
 shining Smith & Wesson, with a shudder, on 
 the sill. Matthew Launcelot put his cold, 
 inquiring nose upon the trigger ; then, not 
 being satisfied, smelt of the muzzle with a 
 scientific manner. Puelvir drew in her 
 mistress* hand, with a sharp exclamation : 
 
 " You 11 kill the dog ! Not to say nothin 
 of him! Put up that pistol, Miss Corona, 
 do, and get to bed. Two women-folks here 
 in their night-gownds ! Whatever will he 
 think of us ! " 
 
 " Think of us ! He ! " cried Corona, 
 in dismay. " Puelvir, I insist upon an ex 
 planation. If you re in league with a band 
 of burglars to murder me, I request that 
 you say so at once, Puelvir. The dinner- 
 bell is left. I can rouse the neighbors. 
 Ican"- 
 
 " Oh ! there," interrupted Puelvir, "don t. 
 
174 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 I m sorry you re so scart ; but I guess it s 
 only a serenade. I would n t shoot, if I was 
 you. Hush ! Don t you hear ? He s singin 
 6 In the Sweet. It s a nice thing for a ser 
 enade, I think. Don t you ? 4 In the Sweet. " 
 
 In truth, as Puelvir spoke, the mournful 
 melody of the " Sweet By and By," sung by 
 a more or less accidentally bass voice, lacer 
 ated the midnight air. 
 
 " I know no one," replied Corona, severely, 
 and still unrelieved. " No one would sing 
 the Sweet By and By to serenade me." 
 
 " Land, ma am," said Puelvir, "I didn t 
 say it was you" 
 
 For one swift moment there in the dark, 
 the blushes of a not unbeautiful pride com 
 mon to her sex under certain circumstances 
 mantled Puelvir s gaunt cheek. Puelvir 
 was a woman. She felt just then that she 
 was superior to her mistress, who had no 
 serenades. 
 
 " I think," added Puelvir, more meekly, 
 " it must be the Raspberry Man. He said 
 he should ; but I did n t expect him to- 
 
THE SERPENT. 175 
 
 night. He said I d know him by In the 
 Sweet. I 11 get some close on, and go an 
 tell him he is botherin us. You jest go to 
 bed. I ll manage him." 
 
 " I would n t hurt his feelings," said Co 
 rona, more gently too, but with a nameless 
 terror at her heart. 
 
 " His feelin s ! " replied Puelvir, scorn 
 fully, as she went out of the room, followed 
 expressively by Matthew Launcelot, breath 
 ing vengeance. 
 
 All that passed between Puelvir and her 
 serenader is not known to the compiler of 
 this record. But certain it is that, after a 
 brief consultation (very much assisted in 
 intensity by Matthew Launcelot) between 
 the back doorstep and the maroon-and- 
 indigo curtains, the sounds of "In the 
 Sweet " died away, and the departing foot 
 steps of the Raspberry Man left Paradise to 
 silence, to safety, and to sleep. 
 
 But Corona lay long with her wakeful 
 eyes fixed upon the headlights of the 
 anchored ships, and on the stars above the 
 
176 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 Bay. It seemed to her that the stars were 
 falling, and that the lights were dim. Among 
 the more harrowing afflictions of this un 
 certain life, where shall we find one striking 
 deeper roots into the soul than the prospect, 
 especially tlae first prospect of having your 
 cook get married ? 
 
 " It is of no use," thought Corona, with a 
 bitterness which only a novice both at life 
 and at householding can remember how to 
 understand. " I agree with the great man 
 who, dying, said that life was all a mistake, 
 and never worth the candle. The world is 
 not made for solitary people. It is of no 
 use to be an old maid, unless other persons 
 will be old maids too. There ought to be 
 a law made forbidding a woman to marry 
 after she is thirty-five." 
 
 But in the morning, when she came down, 
 looking rather pale, Puelvir watched her 
 scrutinizingly, and said : " Beef- tea ? " 
 
 " Thank you, Puelvir. I m not sick." 
 
 "A mite of cocoa, or cream to your oat 
 meal ? Or would you rather I d scrambled 
 
THE SERPENT. 177 
 
 the eggs ? You looked peaked. Mebbe a 
 little raspberry vin " 
 
 But the word raspberry had such over 
 whelming associations for both mistress and 
 maid that Puelvir stopped. 
 
 " I hope," began Corona, " that you will 
 be happy, Puelvir, if you ever should find 
 it necessary to leave me ; but " 
 
 " Land ! " said Puelvir. " Is that it ? 
 Land f " 
 
 Puelvir was silent for some moments. 
 Her emotions seemed too intense to permit 
 of calm or connected speech. After a time 
 she came round in front of her mistress, 
 standing with the water-pitcher abstractedly 
 held at arm s length, and performing as she 
 spoke a series of gymnastic exercises with 
 it, as if it were dumb-bells, and said, with 
 great vigor : 
 
 I should wish to tell you, Miss Corona, 
 I ain t a deef-and-dumb gone fool yit. No 
 knowin what I 11 come to fore I m under 
 ground. Nobody knows. It is with men- 
 folks and women-folks as it is with measles 
 12 
 
178 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 or the mumps. Nobody knows when 
 they 11 catch it. It ain t safe for nobody to 
 say no thin about an affliction that the Lord 
 as made us sees fit, in his mysterious provi 
 dence, to send upon us when least we looks 
 for it. May his will be done ! " 
 
 Too free a use of the instinct of gesture 
 set the contents of the water-pitcher into 
 active ebullition over Corona s fresh morn 
 ing-dress ; but Puelvir was too much in 
 earnest and her mistress too much relieved 
 to notice the little dabs and splashes, cas 
 cades and rills that emphasized Puelvir s 
 punctuation. What was a spoiled cambric 
 against a Paradise Preserved ? 
 
 " So far s he J s in count," continued Puel 
 vir, " I settled him last night." 
 
 "Last night!" cried Corona, touched, 
 despite herself, by the inhumanity of this 
 unexpected proceeding. " When he had 
 come so far to serenade you, Puelvir ? " 
 
 " Land ! yes," proceeded Puelvir. " I set 
 behind the curtain, the indigo one, and he 
 did n t see me ; though I did have my 
 
THE SERPENT. 179 
 
 blanket shawl on over my night-gownd, if 
 he had. So s it was proper enough, for the 
 matter of that. You need n t worry. I 
 don t see s the serenade made the odds. 
 If he d only sang In the Sweet/ and gone 
 off pacified, I should have thought more on 
 him. I m partial to music, especially by 
 the water. But seein he had to up and 
 perpose under them circumstances I 
 told him I d signed a contract to do for 
 you for ten years." 
 
 Pue/vir ! " 
 
 " Well, I did. I don t call that anything 
 out the way. A woman has to make up 
 something to pacify a man. They d never 
 swaller the truth. Land ! Did you ever 
 see a man that would believe it if a woman 
 told him it was him she did n t want ? Be 
 sides, I knew he would n t think of offerin* 
 to wait ten years. I thought I d put it 
 high. He s a widderer, with seven chil 
 dren, mostly small. I knew he couldn t 
 wait, so I said you would n t let me off." 
 
 " I said I was sorry," added Puelvir, in a 
 
180 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 polite tone, with a generous flourish of the 
 pitcher, that sent the water gurgling unre- 
 proved down Corona s happy neck. " And I 
 advised him to go hunt up a girl I d heard 
 of down to the Point, that s partial to wid- 
 derers been promised to two already. 
 He said he s d think of it. But he said," 
 continued Puelvir, " his feelings would com 
 pel him not to do business this way at 
 present, and the butcher hain t only onions. 
 It 11 make it bad about berries for a spell." 
 
XII. 
 
 THE FLAMING SWOED. 
 
 SEPTEMBER lingers fondly about the Old 
 Maid s Paradise. Watching its departure 
 is like watching the parting between friends 
 whose feeling for one another partakes 
 somewhat of the nature of love, while yet 
 retaining the finer essence and calmer poise 
 of friendship. September lingers ; but he 
 must be gone. So, too, must the chance 
 guests whom the dwellers by the sea re 
 ceive and lose in these thoughtful days. 
 Outside in the wide world, fall sewing and 
 October coupons beckon alike imperiously. 
 There are children brown from the beaches, 
 to be turned white in school. There are 
 flirtations broken off at Conway, to be re 
 newed in Boston. And if one belongs to a 
 Club for the Comparison of Coptic and 
 
182 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 Arizonian Metres, it is time to hasten home 
 and prepare the essay for the opening ses 
 sion. Or if one is president of the Society 
 for the Encouragement of Beggars, one 
 must draw up the schedule for the winter s 
 work. The world, in fact, is busy. It can 
 row and sail, it can climb and stroll, it can 
 sleep and sing, it can swim and rest, it can 
 drift and dream no more. 
 
 But down here at Fairharbor there is no 
 world to molest or to make afraid. Sum 
 mer tarries, and the low east wind, like a 
 mature and charming woman, is both sweet 
 and strong. The water is clear, wind 
 swept, and wonderful. The tide beats full 
 and high, like the pulse of that apparently 
 abounding health that sometimes precedes 
 a sudden onset of disease. But disease, 
 death, decay what mean they ? One 
 thinks of the words now with an idle 
 skepticism. We will bask and bathe in the 
 sun upon the warm red rocks, while straight 
 the ozone beats into our faces from the 
 almighty sea. 
 
THE FLAMING SWORD. 183 
 
 And now Corona closely treasures every 
 expression that flits across the forehead of 
 the Harbor and the engirdling shore. Yes 
 terday the wave was brown, purple to-day ; 
 gray now, and gold within an hour. This 
 morning the leaves of the nasturtium on the 
 piazza curled and dropped. Monday the 
 field was green and kindly yet. To-day 
 the last wild rose burns on the bowlder, 
 and Puelvir brings it from the thicket 
 where it hid. It is a tiny blossom, deepen 
 ing in color, feverish with its late life, and 
 delicate as a distant rose-red star. 
 
 One day it seems not an hour after 
 Corona wakes and looks abroad, and says: 
 
 " Oh ! the golden-rod has come." 
 
 " Be n here weeks," says Puelvir. 
 
 But Corona repeats, dreamily, 
 
 " The golden-rod is here ! " 
 
 And she has never seen it ; never with 
 the soul s eyes. Now and then, it may be, 
 strolling up from the surf, or straying to 
 find yellow snail-shells in the hot noon till 
 the bathing-dress is dry, she has been 
 
184 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 aware of a color like spilled gold coin in 
 the clefts and crevices of the rocks, and 
 idly said : " Oh ! golden-rod." But never 
 till this moment : " The golden-rod is here" 
 
 " For Kilmeny had been she knew not where, 
 And Kilmeny had seen what she could not declare." 
 
 Now, as she looks across the ripened land, 
 an unseen hand has struck and changed 
 its complexion. It is like looking at the 
 same scene through glass of differing tints. 
 Now, indeed, the wild briar and the rose 
 blush have vanished ; the little asters hide, 
 pale and purple, in shy places ; but the au 
 tumn dandelions stand in confident groups, 
 and the golden-rod is an army, plumed and 
 proud. The shore glitters beneath the 
 flowers, and the sea beneath the sun. 
 
 Corona steps out slowly, and breaks a 
 spray of the sad, significant thing. It has 
 a swift curve and a dazzling glare. She 
 holds it for an instant with fingers that 
 tremble a little, flings it down, and turns 
 away. She has seen the Sword of Flame. 
 After Paradise comes exile. 
 
THE FLAMING SWORD. 185 
 
 * Don t you think," says Puelvir, coming 
 out and picking up the golden-rod, " I d 
 better have Zero boosted up into that loft, 
 to clear it out, before long ? If you should 
 get lonesome and want to go sudden, the 
 house had oughter be left slick. He s light. 
 He 11 boost easy." 
 
 And now, when Corona comes in dreamy 
 and flushed from the beach or the bay, the 
 rock, or the town, or returns from a look at 
 Father Morrison, or Jane Thurston, or poor 
 little Mrs. Rowin, every vein pulsing with 
 kinship to the sea people and every nerve 
 tenacious with tenderness for the sea, she 
 finds Paradise in strange distortion. Usually 
 Zero, extinguished as to the head and 
 shoulders and very sprawly as to the legs 
 and feet, hangs mysteriously from the loft 
 (which grows out of Puelvir s ceiling), 
 mainly engaged, it seems, in throwing 
 things upon the floor, for Puelvir to pick 
 up and put back again. Failing this, he is 
 found, to Matthew Launcelot s vociferous 
 disapproval, chopping codfish in the wood- 
 
186 AN OLD MAW S PARADISE. 
 
 shed with a borrowed hatchet. Zero has a 
 passion for this last occupation ; in fact, it 
 is one which he has originated, and which 
 he considers especially helpful to the polit 
 ical economy of Miss Corona s household. 
 He says, if she don t stay much longer, it 
 would be a pity to buy a fresh salt-fish ; and 
 this one won t be so hard after it is soaked. 
 While he speaks, Puelvir comes up and 
 says she has n t got anything for dessert. 
 It seems a pity to be doing up a lot of 
 apple-sass now. 
 
 These intimations try Corona severely ; 
 the more as she has never yet expressed the 
 most remote intention of leaving Paradise. 
 Then, too, such scenes have a painful flavor 
 of house-cleaning about them and Corona 
 has always declared, and is still ready to 
 die for her faith, that if ever she had a 
 house it should never be cleaned. She re 
 treats from Zero and Puelvir, betakes her 
 self and her displeasure to the " Gull s 
 Wing," and rows hard for two long, glitter 
 ing, ecstatic hours. The tide is coming in. 
 
THE FLAMING SWORD. 187 
 
 The Harbor is full. It seems to overflow 
 with life, with vigor, and with the secret of 
 existence, which it knows not how to keep. 
 She puts up her oars and drifts in the 
 shadow of the gray old town. She notes 
 the familiar outline of each sea -beaten 
 home, the pulse of every throbbing wave. 
 " Every drop of water, every grain of 
 sand " in the old place grows dear. Her 
 heart, heavy with parting, cries out to 
 Fairharbor : - 
 
 " I love thy rocks and rills ! " 
 
 One day she proposes to Puelvir that they 
 never leave at all ; put clapboards and a 
 furnace into Paradise, or, at least, a good 
 base-burner and fifty-cent carpets, and stay 
 all winter ; adding, sadly, 
 
 " I suppose you would n t be happy, 
 Puelvir ? " 
 
 But Puelvir says, with a loyal sniff, 
 
 " An what have I ever done, Miss Co 
 rona, that you should think I would n t stay 
 by ye?" *. 
 
 On the strength of this devotion, Corona 
 
188 AN OLD MAW S PARADISE. 
 
 writes to Mr. Timbers to inquire the cost 
 of clapboards ; but does not commit herself 
 irrevocably as yet to a winter in Fairharbor. 
 And the golden days glide on, and their 
 evenings and their mornings pale. Now at 
 dawn the open sea takes on a colder coun 
 tenance. Now at the early sunset colors of 
 steel and iron and of ice creep in. The 
 winds are busy, and the peach-basket tum 
 bles over with its load of wood beside the 
 little grate in the little gray parlor every 
 day. The " Gull s Wing " tosses feverishly 
 at her moorings. It grows too wild to row. 
 The summer people melt from the board 
 ing-houses like a late March snow, and the 
 rocks are bare. The beach, too, is silent. 
 Scarlet coats of little children tossing up 
 white sand have vanished. The invalid 
 lady lies no more upon the cliff, beneath the 
 glowing shadow of her purple silk umbrella; 
 and the Japanese parasol disappeared some 
 time ago. The gossip has gone from the 
 bovdgter, where she used to sit and regale 
 her companions (and Corona) with the full 
 
THE FLAMING SWORD. 189 
 
 particulars of her last quarrel with the 
 landlady, who gave them no ice-cream, on 
 Sunday noons. On moonlit nights the 
 young folks no longer pace the beach by 
 jtwos. Even Zero goes to school. 
 
 One day Puelvir says that the ice-man 
 thinks they 11 freeze stiddy enough without 
 him now ; and that the fish-man can t come 
 no longer for one customer. In vain Corona 
 suggests that one customer can starve as 
 hard as twenty. The fish-man shakes his 
 head, and is going into the coal and peat 
 business next week. Would be happy to 
 accommodate her. In vain Corona urgently 
 inquires what other people do down here 
 for fresh fish in winter. The fish-man tells 
 her, after some thought (he is evidently sur 
 prised by the question), that he does n t 
 know ; he guesses they eat it salt. And 
 Corona replies, with dignity, that the lob 
 ster-man is left. 
 
 Daily it grows quiet in Fairharbor. It 
 grows very quiet in Fairharbor. Corona 
 and Puelvir live on lobsters and the scenery. 
 
190 AN OLD M AID S PARADISE. 
 
 But the one is well worth the other for a 
 little longer yet. Corona defers Mr. Tim- 
 bers and the clapboards at present ; but 
 lingers reluctant still and loth. How shall 
 she leave thee, Paradise ? So solemn is the 
 dying of the year upon this barren shore ! 
 So gentle will the Indian summer be, when 
 yet the waves shall show their burning 
 hearts, and the fisherman s children play 
 once more in sun-bonnets upon the now 
 cold, recoiling sand. 
 
 " If only we could all wait patiently," 
 thinks Corona, " past the first frosts of our 
 lives, until their Indian summers come ! " 
 
 All these days Tom is writing begging 
 letters ; and Susy sends word that the baby 
 will not know her when she comes. But 
 Corona answers them that the sky is green 
 to-day, or that the wave is royal purple, or 
 that the tide is high ; that she will pick 
 cranberries with Jane Thurston, or stay to 
 bid the Rowin boys good-by. They must 
 take the terrible winter voyages now, since 
 they left their father at the Banks. The 
 
THE FLAMING SWORD. 191 
 
 fewer to lose, the deeper the danger into 
 which they must be sent. This is the mys 
 terious law of life to the women of Fair- 
 harbor. 
 
 But by and by there comes a windy Sun 
 day. It is a most memorable day. Puelvir 
 goes to church, where she is spiritually 
 benefited by learning that the Kaspberry 
 Man has married a widow with four, and 
 that the minister asked an increase of his 
 salary, on the ground that the price of fish 
 in Fairharbor was higher than in any place 
 in which he had labored. 
 
 But Corona stays at home, with her Bible, 
 her Robertson, Matthew Launcelot, her open 
 fire, and the wind. The silence of the cot 
 tage aches under the tumult without. The 
 Harbor is gray and cold. Long lines and 
 streaks of neutral shadow bar it off. The 
 foam is scanty and flat, breaking chiefly on 
 the western shore. Rings and crowns of 
 light lie vibrating outside the blue-gray 
 gravity of the channel. Toward the beach 
 a subdued green of three distinct shades 
 
192 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 blends in. This green is chilly, lightened 
 with white, not yellow. Beds of brown 
 weeds lie so abundantly and so softly at 
 half -tide upon the sand that they seem to 
 be shadows. The horizon throbs with sails. 
 They all lean southeasterly. The wind is 
 from the northward. The clouds are gray, 
 with silver edges but watery centres; the 
 horizon watery also, pale and bluish. The 
 opposite shore is slightly hazy, as if seen 
 through spray. The roof of one house 
 only one over there, catches the sun and 
 shines sharply. One sail, too, a black one, 
 glides along the opaque shadow of the west 
 ern shore. Corona can hear the rustling of 
 her nearest neighbor s trees ; but the little 
 trees out upon the Point, sheltered she 
 knows not how or why, stand still. The 
 grass and the autumn dandelions blow 
 fiercely. 
 
 As the day advances, a purple, pinched 
 look grows upon the lips of the waves that 
 are nearest the beach. The gulls, the sand 
 pipers, and the swallows fly restlessly and 
 
THE FLAMING SWORD. 193 
 
 without apparent aim. The dandelions 
 seem to brace themselves against the full 
 force of the wind. Sickened leaves hang 
 from the flowerless rose-bushes. The St. 
 Johnswort and yarrow have faded ; but the 
 nasturtiums burn on. 
 
 Toward evening the tide grows extremely 
 low, beaten out by the fierce wind, which 
 rises steadily to a gale. Shells and weeds 
 are thrown up profusely. It is impossible 
 to walk upon the beach. All over the 
 horizon the driven sails are turning in. 
 They will soon be home. 
 
 The evening falls, and the tempest of the 
 night sets in. The two women feel small 
 and unsheltered in the sturdy, trembling 
 little house. Puelvir draws the curtains 
 and struggles with the fire. She says noth 
 ing; but she thinks it rather lonesome in 
 Paradise to-night. Perhaps Puelvir s im 
 agination has been touched slightly by the 
 sight of the widow with four. She betakes 
 herself to her room, draws her maroon-and- 
 indigo curtains, and writes to a cousin, 
 
 13 
 
194 AN OLD MAID S PARADISE. 
 
 whom she has not thought of twice this 
 summer. She wishes she had a sister to 
 write to, or "some folks." She thinks it 
 very windy out to-night. 
 
 Corona sits a long time silent by the fire,, 
 watching the tender struggle between the 
 light and shade upon her soft gray walls, 
 listening to the fiercer battle of the seasons 
 out upon the sea. She thinks : It will still 
 be there. Death, change, denial touch us 
 all ; sun and frost will burn and freeze ; the 
 wind raves and the calm comes ; but the 
 sea is there. 
 
 And, with a sigh, she reaches for her pen 
 and slowly writes : 
 
 DEAE TOM : It will take a week to 
 board up Paradise. Expect me Saturday, 
 at seven. Co. 
 
 Matthew Launcelot comes up inquiringly, 
 rather than inquisitively (Matthew never 
 yields to the lesser motive), and puts his 
 nose, cool as the deprecation of hesitation 
 or regret, upon the paper. But what she 
 
THE FLAMING SWORD. 195 
 
 has written she has written. And Tom s 
 face comes before her with a sudden passion 
 of longing as she sits alone. She kisses 
 Matthew Launcelot ; but she says " Dear 
 Tom." For Paradise, like the Kingdom of 
 Heaven, is within us, after all. 
 
PART II. 
 BUKGLAKS IN PAEADISE. 
 
BURGLARS IN PARADISE, 
 
 
 
 I. 
 
 THE RUMOR. 
 
 IF it had not been for that horse 
 
 But this requires explanation. 
 
 Some time ago, I had the pleasure of re- 
 cording the experience of a single and singu 
 lar lady, who built a house and lived in it. 
 To any reader by chance acquainted with 
 those records no introductory words will now 
 be needed. To such as are unfamiliar with 
 the annals of " The Old Maid s Paradise " it 
 may be necessary to say that they concerned 
 the fortunes of a family of two, mistress 
 and maid. I mistake ; it was a family of 
 three, mistress, maid, and dog. They were 
 known to the public respectively as Corona, 
 
6 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 Puella Virginia (short, Puelvir), and Matthew 
 Launcelot. 
 
 Corona s house was a matched-board cot 
 tage, situated, in summer, in the town of 
 Fairharbor, on the sea-coast. As Corona 
 spent the winters with her brother s family, 
 she carried away the impression that her 
 house was not situated anywhere from Octo 
 ber to June. The poor, desolate, shuttered 
 thing, shivering down there on the cliffs in 
 the winter nor westers, seemed to her to be 
 blotted off the map by the first snow-storm, 
 along with the wild roses and the golden-rod 
 and the dandelion ghosts, and the sense of 
 having one s own way, and paying the grocer 
 for the privilege. Corona did not like to 
 think about her house when she was out of 
 it ; it seemed like the corpse of a house, like 
 an unburied friend : it made her sentimental. 
 Her house was the only thing that she was 
 known to be sentimental about. 
 
 She hurried back to it for that second sea 
 son whose history it will be the effort of these 
 columns to portray, with a bounding heart. 
 
THE RUMOR. 7 
 
 She had passed the bounding years. Life 
 had begun to take steady paces. She had 
 some time since ceased to expect things, and 
 when they came they met her like friends in 
 a crowd : a quick hand on the arm, a kin 
 dling eye, a sensitive cry, " Why, you ! " 
 -and thus she had her surprise for her 
 pains, the twofold pleasure of not hoping, the 
 ardent comfort that comes from asking noth 
 ing of life and finding something when you 
 don t look for it. Corona was a person of 
 " ways." This was one of her ways ; and 
 she found it a very good one. 
 
 So, when she felt that old, patiently put-by 
 pull at the arterial circulation, which comes 
 of deeply wishing for a thing that is really 
 going to happen, Corona experienced some 
 curiosity over the psychological phenomenon. 
 
 " I did not expect to care so much," she 
 said to Puelvir, as they jounced democratic 
 ally over the Fairharbor streets in the yellow 
 omnibus. Fairharbor economizes her streets 
 as a public gymnasium. The great ledges, 
 worn by the great fish teams, and innocent of 
 
8 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 Mr. McAdam s ministrative palliations, exer 
 cise the passengers obviously. Matthew Laun- 
 celot, in particular, being of so much less 
 weight than either of his natural protectors, 
 performed the flying trapeze and double bar 
 from one end of the narrow, dingy red velvet 
 cushions to the other, at irregular intervals, 
 with an air of wounded dignity which lent 
 pathos to the occasion. 
 
 " Here, I 11 hold ye, if I ve got to," said 
 Puelvir. 
 
 " Did you speak to me ? " asked Corona, 
 dreamily. 
 
 Puelvir had not noticed the psychological 
 problem. Whether it were above her or be 
 neath her, who could say? Mistress and 
 maid were fond of each other ; and Corona 
 was used to these little lapses in the line of 
 human sympathy which come of solitary liv 
 ing with some one who is " different." She 
 had a high regard for Puelvir, and watched 
 her affectionately as she gathered Matthew 
 Launcelot into her generous bosom. 
 
 " There, there ! " said Puelvir. Do set 
 awhile, if there s any set in you ! " 
 
THE RUMOR. 9 
 
 "He never kisses you/ observed Corona. 
 " And he s so fond of you, too ! I wonder 
 at it." 
 
 " Kisses me ! " cried Puelvir. " Kisses 
 me ! Why, I d as lief be kissed by live men- 
 folks (for aught I know) as by dogs. I knew 
 a girl once set in a man s lap while they was 
 keepin company. I says to her, I don t see 
 what you want to do it FOR. I should as 
 soon think of goin an settin on the mantel 
 piece ! I ve trained him, you better be 
 lieve," added Puelvir. " I used to snap his 
 nose every time he tried it. If that don t 
 work, I sprinkle him with a little vinegar. 
 It s excellent. They soon get over it." 
 
 " Who get over it ? " asked Corona, still 
 in her dream. Pronouns were never Puelvir s 
 strong point. It took a while to get used to 
 them. 
 
 " How natural it dooz look down here ! " 
 observed Puelvir, as the omnibus bobbed and 
 cannonaded through the crooked streets, past 
 the dreary wharves, by the pungent fish- 
 flakes, where the salt cod dried in the sun 
 
10 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 and swallowed the dust ; down past widening 
 glints of cleanness, blueness, coolness, and so, 
 at last, to the bright burst of the sea. " I al- 
 wez kinder learn to like a place by the signs ; 
 don t you, Miss Corona? I know em by 
 heart down here. There s the Labrador Bak 
 ery ! See ? With that frecmtiful view he 
 painted on his cart. Don t you remember ? 
 She was an Injun woman settin on a nice- 
 berg ; and he asked a cent apiece more for 
 his muffins because he had to pay that artist 
 sech a price. He told me so. There s one 
 sign I feel different about from any in Fair- 
 harbor. It s T. II. Trader. Boxes and 
 Shooks. I could n t tell why, but it gives 
 me such a feeling. I never feel to home till 
 I see it. It s comin this minute. See it? 
 Driving on that there cross-street ? ( T.ff. 
 Trader. Boxes and Shooks. What are 
 shooks, Miss Corona ? You ve lived here 
 longer n I have." 
 
 Corona shook her head. She had spent 
 six summers in Fairharbor. Six hundred 
 times, had she perused the legend : " T. H. 
 
THE RUMOR. 11 
 
 Trader. Boxes and Shooks" Never had 
 she organized an inquiry as to the nature or 
 purpose of a shook. 
 
 66 A modern writer has said women have 
 no intellectual initiative, Puelvir." 
 
 "Ma am?" said Puelvir. 
 
 As the two women approached their home 
 with this stimulating conversational prelude, 
 Corona s heart sank a little. 
 
 " Shall I lower to her level day by day ? " 
 she thought. But she was comforted by some 
 fellow-passengers in the omnibus. They 
 were married people ; they, too, were coming 
 to their summer home by the inspired and in 
 spiring sea ; they, too, had talked in the om 
 nibus, and this was the literal transcript of 
 their wedded conversation : 
 
 (She.) " Harry, where s my shawl-strap ? 
 You ve left it behind ! " 
 
 (He.) " It is under your feet, my dear. 
 You said you wanted a footstool, the omnibus 
 jolted so." 
 
 " I 11 never ride in this omnibus again, if 
 I live to get out of it ! Now, Harry, where 
 is my sun-umbrella ? " 
 
12 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 " Safely strapped up with my cane, Jenny." 
 
 " Well, anyway, you ve broken the pulsa- 
 tilla bottle. I knew you would when you sat 
 down so hard. I see it leaking out of your 
 coat pocket now. I shall never get to sleep 
 without it, and I shall have to send you back 
 to town to get some more." 
 
 (He, grimly, under his mustache.) " I 
 don t doubt you will ! " 
 
 " What did you say, sir ? " 
 
 (He, promptly.) " I did n t say anything." 
 
 " I m sure you did. You can t deny it." 
 
 " I do deny it. We have n t either of us 
 said anything since we started. Do keep 
 still. That lady overhears." 
 
 " I don t care who hears. I insist upon 
 knowing. Why, here s the pulsatilla in my 
 hand-bag, after all ! " 
 
 Silence succeeded. 
 
 (She, with an air of originality.) " How 
 this omnibus does rattle ! " 
 
 (He, absently.) " Oh ! very." 
 
 " Harry ! What a hot day it is ! " 
 
 (He, patiently.) " Quite hot." 
 
THE RUMOR, 13 
 
 (She.) " I m tired to death ! " 
 (He.) " You have your pulsatilla." 
 " Well, / sha n t sit down on it and break 
 it, at any rate ! " This with the air of one 
 who has made a strong moral point. 
 
 " Here we be," said Puella Virginia at last. 
 66 He s left my hogshead bottom up ards. 
 Whatever I m to do for water come o Mon 
 day, and the clothes-post s blowed down, and 
 the spare-room blind s off. The roof needs 
 paintin . I 11 bet it leaks. The coal-bin ain t 
 built, and all Mis Rowin s chickens are settin 
 on your front piazza. But, thanks to mercy, 
 she s washed them windows ! and, as for me, 
 I ve got home" 
 
 The maid gave a happy, boisterous sigh 
 that went to the mistress s heart. It touched 
 her to have the dependent forget her depend 
 ence. And that all the home she had to offer, 
 to the only creature to whom she might offer 
 it, should be dear to that other solitary wo 
 man too, this was a pleasure. Matched 
 board walls and a cook were all Corona had. 
 But it is the eternal heimlichkeit that draws 
 us on. 
 
14 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 " I m glad to have you happy, Puelvir 
 dear/ the mistress said. She had never called 
 Puelvir Dear before. If she was served the 
 less loyally, or with the less respect for it 
 thereafter, these records know it not. 
 
 She flung down her baggage, anyhow, with 
 the old assured confidence in Puelvir s mater 
 nal capacity for " picking up," and wandered 
 through the house with a consciousness of 
 girlish abandonment to the sensations of the 
 moment. To speak of wandering through a 
 house twenty feet cube in proportions may be 
 subject to criticism in matter of style ; but 
 there are spaces and vistas in one s own home 
 not measurable by the carpenter s scale. How 
 dear it was ! The silence and chill frozen 
 there in layers of solitude all the patient win 
 ter melted at the first footfall of love. It 
 was a warm day of early June ; and the sun 
 lay at full-tide through the afternoon windows 
 of the gray parlor. All the familiar trifles 
 seemed to bask in the yellow flood consciously. 
 They glanced at her with dumb eyes, that 
 tried to say, " We have missed you." In a 
 
THE RUMOR. 15 
 
 world like this, is it not something to be 
 missed even by a picture ? Corona s heart 
 went out to the photographs and the carmine 
 ribbons and the frieze of cardinal flowers on 
 the wall ; and she caressed the silver-gray 
 curtains with a tender shake. 
 
 Through the open door the Harbor looked 
 in radiantly. A few small sails leaned south 
 westerly, bent on small errands in the summer 
 afternoon. The opposite shore had the gentle 
 colors of the late seashore spring ; even the 
 hoary gray of the reefs seemed younger than 
 its wont, and the greens were all sensitive still. 
 The water and the sky were bold and happy 
 blue. Down on the beach the traces of the 
 winter storms, cut in gorges, made black rifts 
 on the gray crescent ; and the weeds were 
 massed in rich bronze heaps at the hither end 
 of the curve. The fishermen s salt-barrels 
 and lobster-traps, piled against the stone wall, 
 gave the definite linear foreground that artists 
 love. The rolling downs, with their grazing 
 cattle, made the eastward horizon gracious to 
 the eye. These, and the beach, the cliffs, the 
 
16 BURGLARS IN PARADISE, 
 
 meadow, and the road among the willows, were 
 innocent yet of " summer people." Corona 
 had it all to herself. The double throb of 
 the seen and the unseen breakers from the 
 Harbor and the outer shores beat powerfully. 
 
 " How dear you are ! " she said. 
 
 Her neighbors, Heaven bless the neigh 
 bors, it seemed, had missed her, too. The 
 fires were lighted and laid. The tea-table 
 was set. Somebody had sent hot rolls. Some 
 body else asked leave to bring a pie. Flow 
 ers were all over the house. Tiny garden- 
 patches, walled about with shells after the 
 Fairharbor fashion, had been built by un 
 known hands, and planted with the affection 
 ate but unfortunate seeds that always per 
 ished during infancy in any garden of Co 
 rona s. Some one had filled an old dory with 
 nasturtiums ; she lay stranded upon the grass 
 in the sheltered corner by the hogshead, look 
 ing as much like a lettuce-garden and as little 
 like a boat as was practicable. Zero, in the 
 overflow of his welcome, had brought a pail 
 of water. Zero, it will be remembered, or 
 
THE RUMOR. 17 
 
 should be said, was the boy who went to the 
 post-office ; and a pail of fresh water is the 
 final luxury of civilization in Fairharbor. Co 
 rona shut herself alone into the little gray 
 parlor, and collected her over-sensitive thought 
 for those first few minutes. Only a matched 
 board cottage, and Puelvir, and the ocean, 
 and the neighbors, and Matthew Launcelot 
 and yet, how happy, how happy a thing is a 
 human home ! Her eyes filled. What, then, 
 would it be, to be people who have more than 
 that ? What must it be like, to come home 
 to that other kind of blessedness, the real 
 homelikeness ? 
 
 A cold nose and a pink tongue profusely 
 interrupted this dangerous and uncharacteris 
 tic sortie of the imagination. Matthew Laun 
 celot, alert to what he perceived to be the un 
 usual, crept up into her arms, and made him 
 self as agreeable as Nature had permitted 
 him to be. Matthew Launcelot knew that he 
 had effective eyes. He looked at her senti 
 mentally and sadly, as who would say, " But 
 you have me." 
 
18 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 " Bless you, yes ! " said Corona, contritely. 
 She caressed the dog, as if she would apolo 
 gize to him. Nobody understood her better 
 than Matthew Launcelot. If the wing of a 
 flying vision had brushed her for that instant ; 
 if the thing that had been and the thing that 
 was not to be had met and cried out against 
 each other upon her threshold, and in her 
 strong despite, who but Matthew Launcelot 
 need know ? 
 
 " Somethin s happened," said Puelvir, ap 
 pearing at the door suddenly. 
 
 " Very well, Puelvir. What, for instance ? " 
 
 " Mis Rowin s been in. She told me to 
 prepare you. I said I would. She thought 
 she would n t ask for you to-night, you d be 
 so upset by it. I told her it was very thought 
 ful in her." 
 
 " If her though tfulness extended What 
 is it that you have to prepare me for, Puel 
 vir ? " 
 
 " Burglars," said Puelvir, with grim tri 
 umph. 
 
 " Ah ? " listlessly from her mistress. 
 
THE RUMOR. 19 
 
 " They re all round the neighborhood. 
 They ve stole Mis Rowin s best nigh gownd, 
 and Mr. Jacobses old harness, and Tommy 
 Thurston s Bantam rooster. They re very 
 dangerous men. There s five of em." 
 
 " They must be dangerous men, such 
 deadly depredations. Is this all you had to 
 prepare me for, Puelvir ? " 
 
 " Well, no m. It hain t. They ve ben 
 here. They ve broke in." 
 
 " Broken in ! To my house ! Burglars ! 
 Impossible, Puelvir. The shutters " 
 
 " Well, yes m. Thanks to mercy, they 
 did n t get so very far. They found they 
 was locked out by that there bronze bolt of 
 your n. They got in the little wood-shed 
 window by the pantry. He seems to have been 
 a large feller, and, nigh s we can make out, 
 he stuck. Anyways he did n t get no farther ; 
 but she told me to break it to you gently, for 
 she was afraid it would be a shock to you. He 
 took all he could lay hands on, and clared." 
 
 " I thought you said there were five of 
 them/ 
 
20 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 " I never said there was five squoze in that 
 there two-foot window/ replied Puelvir lof 
 tily. " But it s an awful thing to think of, 
 come to think on t. And they took " 
 
 " What did they steal, Puelvir ? What is 
 the amount of my loss? Tell me the worst 
 at once ! " 
 
 " Well, I did n t say s they took so much" 
 answered Puelvir, in a disappointed tone. 
 " But they re very dangerous men. And 
 they ve took the hatchet." 
 
 "The hatchet?" 
 
 " Yes, the hatchet howsomever they ever 
 found it. When you and me wanted it, it 
 was always at the bottom of the wood-pile, 
 where he d piled his wood onto it. / never 
 found the hatchet in this house." 
 
 66 Is that the extent of my losses, Puel 
 vir ? " 
 
 " Well, pretty much. They ve got the 
 hatchet. And the carving-knife, the one 
 Zero used on the kindlin . I d like to see 
 em cut that Bantam rooster with it ! And 
 they took the close-pins, and the gimlet, and 
 
THE RUMOR. 21 
 
 a paper of tacks, and the hatchet. That s 
 about all, nigh s Mis Rowin can tell. She 
 feels very bad about it. She said the neigh 
 bors would a set up nights to watch your 
 house. She hoped you d bear up under the 
 shock. She wanted to know if we did n t 
 want Zero to come over here and sleep ; but 
 I told her I guessed you n me had tried that 
 for one while." 
 
 " I think we must get along without Zero," 
 said Corona. "But it is an unpleasant 
 thought, five of them getting in such very 
 little windows in a person s house. I will 
 think the matter over, Puelvir, and talk with 
 you presently." 
 
 So Corona went out on the piazza to think 
 the burglars over. Mrs. Eowin s hens were 
 sitting there comfortably. They all arose 
 and greeted her in a very hospitable manner, 
 and walked away one by one, with an air of 
 consideration for her feelings which made it 
 impossible to " shoo " them. 
 
 As to that horse but this requires time. 
 
II. 
 
 THE SCARE. 
 
 " PUELVIR," said her mistress, that even 
 ing, when the two women prepared to face 
 the first night alone, in a neighborhood 
 known to be haunted by house-breakers, 
 " Puelvir, is Zero as deaf as he used to be ? " 
 
 " Deefer/ said Puelvir, laconically. 
 
 " Then I really don t think he would help 
 us any ; do you ? We must make up our 
 minds to protect ourselves. I think we can ; 
 don t you, Puelvir ? " 
 
 "I ve nailed the ironin - board and the 
 step-ladder and the big soap-stone and two 
 flat-irons agen the shed window. I d like to 
 see em get in there." 
 
 " That s an excellent plan, Puelvir. I ve 
 been thinking it over. My idea was that 
 we must really lock up. I ve never paid 
 
THE SCARE. 23 
 
 much attention to the subject. We will make 
 a point of it. I think we d better begin 
 early." 
 
 66 1 bet I know what they took the hatchet 
 for, Miss Corona. I ve been thinkin about 
 it." 
 
 " And what was it for, Puelvir ? " 
 
 " To carve Tommy s rooster with ; that s 
 what they wanted of it. Depend on t, they 
 took your carvin -knife first ; n when they 
 found what they d got in that knife let 
 alon the rooster they come back for the 
 hatchet." 
 
 66 Yes/ replied Corona, pensively. " Mr. 
 Tom and Mr. Sinuous used to say it was a 
 little dull." 
 
 Corona referred to the only gentlemen 
 guests whom the Old Maid s Paradise had 
 yet known. Tom was her brother, and Mr. 
 Sinuous may be recalled as the young man 
 from Mt. Desert, who had played the Ser 
 pent in this feminine Eden, and removed a 
 preferred friend from Corona s hearth-stone. 
 
 " We will lock up," repeated Corona. " We 
 
24 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 will lock up very much. I think, with my 
 pistol " - 
 
 Puelvir interrupted by an audible and sig 
 nificant, but smothered, titter. Corona re 
 garded her inquiringly, to see if this expressed 
 any disrespect toward the pistol. But Puelvir 
 vouchsafed .no explanation. 
 
 " And then, with Matthew Launcelot " 
 
 " Matthew Launcelot ! " cried Puelvir. 
 
 " Certainly," replied the mistress, with some 
 dignity. " He was given to me for a watch 
 dog, Puelvir. T have no doubt that if Mat 
 thew Launcelot had been here, we should 
 have our hatchet now, and that paper of 
 tacks, too." 
 
 " Mebbe we should," said Puelvir, dis 
 creetly and obscurely. " Will ye leave me 
 to lock up behind, and you lock up before ? 
 I d like to see em," added Puelvir. " T d 
 jest like to see em git into this house, and 
 me in it ! " 
 
 Judging from Puelvir s kindling counte 
 nance, this remark might be taken as literally 
 true. 
 
THE SCARE. 25 
 
 The two women made solemn business of 
 it, barricading" the lonely house that night. 
 At moments Corona thought of Tom, and of 
 Susy and the baby sleeping in his big pro 
 tection. But she patted Matthew Launcelot, 
 and cleaned her pistol, and drew her bolts, 
 and said her prayers, and kept a stout heart, 
 and trusted in Puelvir and Providence, 
 much in the order of their going through this 
 sentence. 
 
 Their preparations for the night were fear 
 fully and wonderfully made. The defenses 
 of the Old Maid s Paradise being of the most 
 primitive nature, feminine ingenuity was put 
 to the tests of despair. When Corona had 
 come to the end of such 1 ocks and bolts as 
 the house possessed, she drew upon her inven 
 tion with a naivete which would have been re 
 freshing to the intellect of the burglar ; but 
 it is one of the few advantages left us by our 
 advanced civilization that the gentlemen of 
 the nipper and jimmy are not usually wit 
 nesses of the innocent devices for their 
 amusement offered by the bosom of the fam- 
 
26 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 ily in hours of panic ; the truth being that 
 the hours of panic and the hours of peril 
 in this, as in so many another case, fail to 
 coincide. 
 
 Corona s chef d ceuvre consisted in coun 
 terscarps of chairs as disposed in front of 
 windows. She was confident that no house 
 breaker could pass the pyramids and Pisan 
 Towers and Cleopatran Needles and Bunker 
 Hill Monuments which she constructed from 
 this useful article of domestic furniture. Her 
 confidence only came to an end with her 
 chairs. Four to a set bought " in the 
 white" brought the supply in Paradise to 
 a visible mathematical end in the course of 
 the evening. She depended on sofa-pillows 
 until she remembered that they were not a 
 noisy material for barricade purposes where 
 the main value must consist in capacity for 
 waking you up. She had what Mr. James 
 would call " a phase " of faith in screws, 
 But Corona had never in her life been able 
 to make a hole for the screw, or to get the 
 screw into the hole after she had made it. 
 
THE SCARE. 27 
 
 In this case a native disability was empha 
 sized by the absence of the gimlet, which had 
 shared the fate of the hatchet and the paper 
 of tacks. When she had labored nobly, but 
 sadly, with the corkscrew for half an hour or 
 so, Puelvir came to her relief. 
 
 " Land, Miss Corona ! A screw won t 
 screw without a gimlet any more n you can 
 bury a coffin without a grave." 
 
 " A screw won t screw for a woman, I m 
 afraid," said her mistress, rather plaintively. 
 " What have you done to your part of the 
 house, Puelvir ? " 
 
 " Well," said Puelvir, setting her arms 
 akimbo, and breathing very hard, " I ve 
 used up all the nails in the house. It 11 tako 
 me an hour to dror em out come mornin . 
 I built a sort of meetin -house agen that there 
 kitchen winder where the bolt s broke. I 
 built it outen coal-hods and tongs and kitchen 
 tables, let alon a few stove covers and the 
 biler. Then I run the close-line all acrost 
 the dinin -room in a sort of slip-noose. They 
 can t get nowhere-acrost that dinin -room with- 
 
28 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 out bein tripped and slip-noosed, would n t 
 I like to see em ! " 
 
 " Excellent, Puelvir ! " said Corona, in tones 
 of faint admiration. " But how am / to get 
 
 o 
 
 across the dining-room ? " 
 
 " Oh ! you II have to go to hed up the 
 outside stairs, through my room," said Puel 
 vir, serenely. " I 11 light the lantern and 
 take you right along." 
 
 " And those five burglars watching us from 
 the street, exposed to full view by the light 
 of that lantern ? Never, Puelvir ! We will 
 go to bed in the dark. What else have you 
 done ? " 
 
 " Well," said Puelvir, gleefully, I ve kep 
 a kitchen fire. That s what I ve done ! " 
 
 " A kitchen fire ! This hot night ! Why, 
 what in the world " 
 
 " Hot water," said Puelvir, fiercely. " And 
 pokers. Red-hot pokers. And pailsful 
 throw d on em to scalt em. I ve run that 
 piece o hose you had to fetch water from 
 the spring that would n t fetch, you know 
 up from the kittles into my room. I whit- 
 
THE SCARE. 29 
 
 tied a hole in the floor to get it through, with 
 the bread-knife, and Mis Ro win s old axe. I 
 borryed it of her. I told her I wanted to cut 
 some of them biscuit your brother s cook made 
 for you to bring home in the lunch-box. I 
 had to tell her something. I was n t going 
 to give her the particulars. I tell you what, 
 Miss Corona, come to get past them coal-hods, 
 and the close-line, and all them nails, and the 
 biler, and them soap-stones, and that there 
 scaldin water and your screws," added Fu 
 el vir, as a polite after-thought, " I 11 resk 
 their burglin much in this house to-night." 
 
 Corona s family passed, as may be inferred, 
 a restless night. Mistress and maid stole up 
 the outside stairs to bed, in the dark, guilt- 
 
 % 
 
 " Some kind neighbor will take us for our 
 own burglars, and shoot," whispered Corona, 
 with chattering teeth. 
 
 " I dessay they mought," replied Puelvir, 
 cheerfully. Puelvir was in high spirits. The 
 duty of barricading Paradise had greatly ex 
 cited her. It was impossible not to suspect 
 
30 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 that Puelvir would be disappointed if nobody 
 burgled l that house. 
 
 When they had got safely past the slip- 
 noose and the boiling water and the poker, 
 and engineered their way by the fortresses of 
 chairs without tilting them down, for they 
 hung poised with a delicacy which will hardly 
 be credited to so stolid an article, unless one is 
 familiar with this species of architecture, 
 when they were actually in their rooms, with 
 the doors locked, and were well-nigh, indeed, 
 in bed, a pathetic wail, followed by an impe 
 rious outcry, startled them from below. They 
 had forgotten Matthew Launcelot. 
 
 With masculine indifference to feminine 
 agitations, Matthew Launcelot, the only un 
 disturbed member of the family, had slept off 
 the exhaustion of travel in some invisible 
 haunt down-stairs, and had waked under the 
 apparent impression that he himself was be 
 ing burgled in an acute form. 
 
 1 I use this word without apology for a term which the 
 present state of American civilization has surely rendered 
 a necessity of the language. 
 
THE SCARE. 31 
 
 " I d rether hev burglars than that dog," 
 said Puelvir, scornfully. " He s more trouble 
 in the long run, and less use. Whar 11 he 
 sleep now ? " 
 
 " I would take him in my room ; but it 
 does n t seem quite fair to defend myself so, 
 at your expense/ said her mistress, kindly. 
 " You can keep him, if you want to." 
 
 " I would n t take the critter away from 
 you," said the maid, politely. " It would n t 
 become me." 
 
 It was decided that Matthew Launcelot 
 should sleep on the landing at the head of 
 the stairs, between the bedrooms. 
 
 " That divides the protection," observed 
 Corona. 
 
 " And halves the affliction," muttered Puel- 
 vir, ns she crept down again (in her night 
 dress and crimping - pins, with a gossamer 
 waterproof too short for her), crawled past 
 the hot water and the poker and the clothes 
 line and Bunker Hill monument and the boiler 
 and the hose, and returned with the dog, 
 whom she had found reposing, with an in- 
 
32 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 jured air, upon the middle of the lace pillow- 
 sham on the guest-room bed. 
 
 As I say, it was a very restless night. 
 Every nocturnal sound took on awful propor 
 tions to Corona s straining ear. She could 
 not sleep. She was oppressed with her sense 
 of responsibility as the head of a family, if 
 harm came to the innocent creatures entrusted 
 to her care. " What if this were doubled, 
 trebled, sextupled, by, for instance, a hus 
 band and five children ? " she thought. It 
 did not occur to her at the moment, so pow 
 erful a compress is the habit of solitary life 
 upon the imagination, it really did not oc 
 cur to her that a husband would halve, much 
 less remove, the risk, but only how much he 
 would add to the care. 
 
 It was a still night without, that is to say, 
 there was no wind ; and Corona tried to yield 
 herself to the peace that comes in the power 
 of the sea to those who understand and love 
 it. She listened to the incoming of the 
 faithful, friendly tide upon the beach and 
 lava-gorge. She watched the shimmer of the 
 
THE SCARE. 33 
 
 stars and head-lights in the Harbor ; each 
 star made an arrow, and each head-light a 
 shaft of fire in the waves ; where the an 
 chored boats swung trustfully for their night s 
 rest, there seemed a little tunnel of flame cut 
 into the deep, as into a mine of light that lay 
 ablaze below the blackness. Now and then 
 a belated schooner stirred in slowly through 
 the calm, lifting her sailing signals of scarlet 
 and of green ; these pulsated as they moved 
 against the purple sky. One ocean steamer, 
 put in for some unknown errand, reared her 
 huge outline in the channel, with high and 
 brilliant lights. The shore fishermen were all 
 well at home, and except for the sharp rattle 
 of some furling sails, or the clank of a down- 
 going chain as some unseen boat swung to 
 her moorings, the Harbor was quite still. 
 
 Not so the Old Maid s Paradise. Every 
 clapboard squeaked. Every shingle started. 
 Each blind stirred stealthily. The very hogs 
 head groaned. Mysterious creaks ran along 
 the outer stairs. Inexplicable moans started 
 from the hammock on the piazza. Heart- 
 
34 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 throbs kept time to every real and unreal in 
 terruption of the night s repose. Puelvir 
 (and her crimping-pins) sat bolt upright in 
 bed between dreams of having her throat cut 
 by the man who stole the paper of tacks, and 
 of being shot by Miss Corona. Matthew 
 Launcelot, sensitive to the family atmosphere, 
 or to Puelvir s criticism, slept fitfully, and 
 musically divided the watches of the night 
 according to a taste and a conscience of his 
 own. When he did not bark he snored, and 
 when he did not snore he barked. Thus the 
 night passed. 
 
 " Puelvir," called her mistress once, through 
 the thin walls, " are you asleep ? " 
 
 " Hain t slept a wink," declared Puelvir, 
 starting from her last dream. " Who could ? " 
 
 " You did n t hear anything, did you ? 
 You don t think we d better go down, do you 
 and see ? " 
 
 " It s them flat-irons," called Puelvir. " Or 
 the biler. Mebbe it s your screws. And 
 how to mercy are we ever goin down them 
 outside stairs in our nigh gownds ? " 
 
THE SCARE. 35 
 
 " That s true, Puelvir. I had n t thought 
 of it. You are quite right. How glad I 
 am we had Matthew Launcelot sleep up 
 stairs ! " 
 
 66 Be you ! " replied Puelvir, with deep sig 
 nificance. As the night wore on its way, 
 Corona sank into the sleep which health is 
 sure to snatch from weariness or even from 
 anxiety. She was resting from her labors 
 as the defender of her family, in a harrow 
 ing dream that she had married a minister 
 in Montana, on a seven-hundred-dollar sal 
 ary, when she was roused by a noise. This 
 time it was a real noise. It was a terrible 
 noise. It thumped and thundered, it shrieked 
 and shattered through the silent, helpless 
 house. Five burglars ? Fifteen burglars 
 could not make its like. The two women 
 sprang, by one awful instinct, and faced each 
 other, shivering, on the landing. Corona had 
 lighted her candle, and, true to her military 
 instincts, grasped her revolver by the muz 
 zle. Puelvir appeared with her hose (the 
 well-hose, I mean) gripped in a death-like 
 
36 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 clutch, and immediately showered Corona 
 from head to foot with the water from the 
 kettle below, which, fortunately the fire 
 being low was no longer " scalt," but of 
 the temperature of melted ice-cream an hour 
 after dinner. 
 
 The noise meanwhile continued, and ac 
 celerated. It was a noise that defied descrip 
 tion. It seemed to come from the dining- 
 room. 
 
 " I am going to descend," said the Head of 
 the Family in a hollow voice. " It is my duty. 
 You need not come. Stay and save yourself, 
 Puelvir. I shall go." 
 
 " If you think you re a-goin to be mur 
 dered one mortal step without me," quavered 
 Puelvir, " you may suit yourself to another 
 hired girl." 
 
 She pushed by her mistress, and, without 
 another word, preceded her. Corona fol 
 lowed in a dripping condition. Pallid and 
 panting, they crept down-stairs. Corona held 
 her pistol pointed directly at Puelvir s crazy- 
 bone. Puelvir carried the hose, which was 
 
THE SCARE. 37 
 
 doggedly sputtering cold water all over the 
 house, with a general air of meaning to hit 
 somebody, it did n t much matter whom. 
 Since Corona was as wet as she could be al 
 ready, she regarded the hose with indiffer 
 ence. 
 
 The noise continued crescendo, and, guided 
 by its direful clew, these two defenders of 
 their altars and their fires courageously made 
 and stood their ground to see 
 
 Matthew Launcelot. Matthew Launcelot 
 and the clothes-line struggling together in 
 the dining-room. Straight into the slip-noose 
 and nowhere else that unhappy dog had 
 walked. There, hanging, strangling, yelling, 
 as nobody but Matthew Launcelot could yell, 
 though one took lessons at forty dollars a 
 quarter, the protector of his family was res 
 cued from the burglar s fate not a moment 
 too soon for the preservation of his valuable 
 and soothing life. 
 
 The clothes-line was not popular, after 
 this, as a means of domestic defense. The 
 slip-noose was voted off the list. Matthew 
 
38 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 Launcelot now slept in the kitchen. This 
 required the abrogation of the window barri 
 cade, because he insisted on sleeping 1 in the 
 boiler, and it (and he) tumbled down on the 
 stove, about midnight, every night. On iron 
 ing days, when the stove was hot, this had its 
 disadvantages. Gradually the soap-stones and 
 the flat-irons seemed to become of less im 
 portance. The nails took too long to draw 
 out again. The chairs in the parlor got 
 scratched, and Cleopatra s Needle fell to the 
 earth at three o clock A. M. one night, pro 
 ducing more of a shock to the nervous sys 
 tem than any gentlemanly Bostonian burglar 
 could possibly cause. Corona s screws had 
 never got more than half-way. Thus the bur 
 glar alarm of Paradise became, like those of 
 more ambitious homes, " more expensive than 
 the burglars," and, as fear gave way before 
 the absence of adventure, a daring disregard 
 of consequences, united to the native indo 
 lence of the hour preceding bed-time, led the 
 two women back to less exciting, if less in 
 genious, methods of locking their house. As 
 
THE SCARE. 39 
 
 no more hatchets or roosters were stolen, their 
 terrors slept. Corona ceased to reflect upon 
 the anxieties of protecting an imaginary 
 husband. Life in the matched-board cottage 
 reacted to more than its usual level of se 
 renity. 
 
 It was in the apathy following the intensity 
 of that first experience, perhaps, that Coro 
 na s thoughts took an idle and luxurious turn, 
 which she one day communicated to the part 
 ner of her joys and sorrows, in these startling 
 words : 
 
 " Puelvir, I m going to buy a horse." 
 
Ill 
 
 GOOD FAMILY HORSES. 
 
 CORONA S announcement of her intention 
 to purchase a horse plunged her family and 
 immediate circle of friends into one of those 
 panics of good advice which are sure to fol 
 low (if anything follows) the unexpected upon- 
 the part of a solitary woman. Corona re 
 flected that this was so much better than for 
 nobody to care enough to advise her that she 
 bore it with grateful good-humor. Her sister- 
 in-law wrote by return mail that it was very 
 extravagant, and that she would need the 
 money for a seal-skin cloak ; but finance and 
 a comprehension of Corona s needs were not 
 Susy s strong points. Tom telegraphed : 
 " You 11 get cheated." Some old friends 
 known as Elf and Mary, who had shared 
 Corona s first summer in Paradise, remon- 
 
GOOD FAMILY HORSES. 41 
 
 strated in letters of thirteen and seventeen 
 pages respectively. Elf objected on the 
 ground that Matthew Launcelot was already 
 as much of a zoological responsibility as one 
 woman could sanely support. Mary said that 
 Mr. Sinuous said that it was better to hire 
 from the livery, on account of the blacksmith s 
 bills ; but then Mary was still a bride. 
 
 General and Mrs. Wolchester drove over 
 from Gride s farm to advise Corona to substi 
 tute a tricycle. Some Boston acquaintances 
 said their horses always had the heaves. Old 
 Father Morrison, the lobster man, asked where 
 she was goin to keep the critter, and remarked 
 that his own legs was good enough for him. 
 Mrs. Rowin claimed that horses were danger 
 ous animals to have around. Zero cautiously 
 observed that he did n t know a boy in Fair- 
 harbor would tackle up for less than five dol 
 lars and seventy-five cents a week. Puelvir 
 said nothing at all the severest form of per 
 sonal discouragement which Puelvir was ever 
 known to throw upon her mistress s hopes or 
 purposes. 
 
42 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 To all of this kindly interest Corona re 
 sponded with a cheerful deference to the views 
 advanced in each respective case, and pro 
 ceeded to take steps for the furtherance of 
 her own ; a course of conduct which made all 
 her advisers happy, and herself besides, and 
 that was a good deal to achieve. 
 
 To her brother she wrote as follows : 
 
 " DEAR TOM, Thank you for your offer 
 to come down and buy my horse. You know 
 I should be glad to have you, and you know 
 you won t come. Any 6 horse-sense for 
 warded to me by telegraph or telephone, in 
 the intervals of your duties, will be grate 
 fully receipted, and respected. Until you do 
 get her, I think I shall look about a little for 
 myself. 
 
 " It is true that I have never before been the 
 purchaser of a family horse. I admit it. But 
 when I think of the years I have driven Susy 
 down town, and waited for her to do her shop 
 ping in a sleet-storm ; when I remember the 
 occasions upon which I have (in your unavoid 
 able absence) harnessed to go for the doctor 
 
GOOD FAMILY HORSES. 43 
 
 for the baby, usually at night, and to be 
 professionally told that nothing ailed her; 
 when I reflect upon the August afternoons, 
 with the thermometer at 95, that have seen 
 me jerking and cl k king the family carryall 
 along to give the baby an airing, and espe 
 cially upon the occasion when the door gave 
 way, and she tumbled out backward and 
 turned a somersault between the wheels, and 
 landed sitting down beneath the carriage ; 
 when I recall the training I had in catching 
 Old Ben, raw from the pasture, to go for the 
 mail, because Patrick had a sick headache, 
 the day after a wake, and Susy was afraid he 
 would break down, when I think these 
 things over calmly, I am fain to ask, how 
 ever modestly, if my horse education will 
 not go for something in the awful risk which 
 I feel I am about to take upon myself. 
 
 " Cheated ? I expect to get cheated. Why 
 should I escape the universal human fate ? 
 But worse things may happen to a woman 
 than to be cheated ; and I want a horse, be 
 he honest or a rascal, and am, 
 
 " Yours, CORO." 
 
44 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 Scarcely twenty-four hours had elapsed since 
 Corona s intention to add a horse to her do 
 mestic circle had been mentioned aloud, before 
 she found herself in the heart of a new world. 
 It might be succinctly called the Horse World. 
 The delights of the fireside, the enticements 
 of the June sky, the fascination of the ocean, 
 the delicate shift and play of summer life, re 
 ceded from her consciousness like plates in a 
 magic lantern. Her brain-cells became sten 
 ciled with the language and literature of the 
 turf. Anxious to proceed upon her rash ven 
 ture with some degree of intelligence, she had 
 made herself the possessor of a book called 
 " The Horse and his Habits." When anybody 
 called as somebody did at the rate of six or 
 seven a day with a horse to sell, she con 
 sulted this useful volume. She received the 
 impression that a horse was the most delicate 
 creature, and subject to the richest stock of 
 bodily infirmities of any specimen of organized 
 life known to our present civilization. An in 
 fant or a woman was nothing to it. Beyond 
 this one idea, which rapidly assumed the dan- 
 
GOOD FAMILY HORSES. 45 
 
 gerous proportions of the " fixed/ in Corona s 
 mental life at this period, it cannot be said that 
 she brought away much available knowledge 
 from " The Horse and his Habits." She pe 
 rused the book sturdily. Tom did not come. 
 Of course Tom did not come, he was in Ida 
 ho ; it was something about bear-skins, so 
 she clung to this intelligent volume bravely, as 
 the sole defense between herself and that deli 
 cate sense of honor well known to belong to 
 the jockey considered as a class. Who has 
 ever solved the riddle, What is there about 
 horses which should be so injurious to the hu 
 man conscience ? Why should a horse make 
 a man a commercial rascal, rather than glue, 
 or cracked wheat, or dry goods, or soap ? 
 
 One horse in particular pleased Corona very 
 much. The owner had come every day with 
 it, and stayed. He had stayed very much. 
 He had fastened his horse to the clothes-post, 
 beginning on Monday, when the lines were 
 up, and outstayed all the other bids. Corona, 
 with feminine respect for the pertinacious in 
 pursuit, admired the perseverance of this man, 
 
46 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 and hated to hurt his feelings by refusing to 
 take his horse. 
 
 Her friend Mary had come over to stay a 
 few days (Mr. Sinuous said she might. This 
 was the more praiseworthy in Mr. Sinuous be 
 cause he himself was not invited), in order to 
 help Corona through this trying period. The 
 two ladies drove together from morning to 
 night, experimenting with the different ap 
 plicants, in the lazy, delightful country fash 
 ion that makes horse-hunting as a high art 
 a pleasure unknown to towns. Through mur 
 muring lanes, where the bees fastidiously 
 tasted the barberry blossoms, over the bril 
 liant beaches, and deep into the scented woods, 
 Mary and Corona rode and rode. They rode 
 with old horses, young horses, sound horses, 
 sick horses, horses that went, and horses 
 that would n t go, and horses that went more 
 than was expected of them ; horses that ran 
 away with them and horses that sat down 
 with them, horses that limped, horses that 
 stumbled, horses that coughed, horses that 
 took the bits between their teeth, and horses 
 
GOOD FAMILY HORSES. 47 
 
 that wouldn t go up-hill without a lump of 
 sugar. There was one but only one who 
 kicked the dasher down when he met the first 
 summer boarder, in an imported shade hat, 
 constructed in the form of an orthodox meet 
 ing-house, and ornamented with muslin sun 
 flowers. 
 
 For some reason sufficient to the reader of 
 " The Horse and his Habits," none of these 
 animals seemed suitable for the needs of her 
 family, and she returned with a weakening 
 heart to the horse tied at the clothes-post since 
 Monday morning. His owner was quite sure 
 that he would fill the bill. 
 
 "The bill?" asked Corona. "Fill what 
 bill ? We have n t come to the bill yet." 
 
 " Pardon, mum," said the man, reddening 
 a little. 
 
 Corona looked at him vaguely. She was 
 still deficient in " horse-talk." She explained 
 that she wanted a good family horse. 
 
 She was assured that this was a perfect 
 specimen of the kind of thing. 
 
 Sound ? 
 
48 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 Sound as sense ! Had n t an out about him. 
 
 Corona did not know what an out was. 
 She thought it might be some new kind of 
 disease. So she consulted " The Horse and 
 his Habits " before replying. 
 
 "It isn t in my book," she whispered to 
 Mary. " It may be one of those new aggra 
 vations developed by the epizootic. But as 
 long as the horse has n t got it, I don t see 
 that it matters. Do you ? " 
 
 " Why n-no. I should n t think it did," 
 said Mary, conscientiously. 
 
 They went out again and reexamined the 
 horse. He was a very handsome horse. 
 
 "Was he kind ? 
 
 Kind as a tarrier pup. 
 
 Afraid of the cars ? 
 
 Cars ? He was n t afraid of the Last Trum 
 pet. 
 
 How many miles an hour ? 
 
 Ten, week-days, and twelve and a half if 
 you wanted the doctor. Easy. 
 
 " But we never do want the doctor," ob 
 jected Corona, thoughtfully. 
 
GOOD FAMILY HORSES. 49 
 
 Was he easy-bitted ? 
 
 You could drive him with a hair-pin and a 
 piece of sewin -silk. 
 
 His price ? 
 
 Two hundred and fifty dollars. 
 
 Lowest price ? 
 
 Lowest price ; that was fifty dollars less n 
 an animal with his points would bring any 
 where else. But seem she was a lady sort 
 of, as you might say, unprotected, no men 
 folks to deal with he d let her have it for 
 two hundred and fifty, cash down. 
 
 " It is a good deal to get a horse that will 
 never have the outs," observed Corona sotto 
 voce to her friend. " And he is so handsome ! 
 I think I will take him on trial." 
 
 " I ve got to go to Boston to buy a Canady 
 colt," objected the trader. " You could n t 
 close just as well now, could you? It would 
 be a great convenience to me." 
 
 Corona was sorry to inconvenience him, 
 but she thought it best to keep the horse for 
 half a day or so before she bought him. She 
 had no doubt she should decide to keep him. 
 
50 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 She liked the animal very much. She thanked 
 the trader for his perseverance, and ordered 
 the horse brought round for a drive at two 
 o clock. His name ? she asked, as an after 
 thought ; they had found it a little difficult 
 to distinguish among the horses. The horse- 
 that-sat-down, for instance, was rather long ; 
 and The-long-legged-horse-with-the-gout (or 
 whatever they called it) that-ran-over-a-wheel- 
 barrow-and-a-baby took time. The name of 
 this very handsome horse without an out was 
 Pepper. 
 
 Corona and Mary took a trial trip with 
 Pepper. He started off excellently. He was 
 exceedingly handsome. The ladies enjoyed 
 driving such a handsome horse. They went 
 over by the celebrated Long Beach, where 
 the waves came affectionately to the most sol 
 itary and silver sands of the fair coast-line. 
 The full afternoon coloring was on the water : 
 the horizon line quivered with sails ; the sky 
 blazed like a blue mirror of the gods into 
 which no mortal face should gaze. The two 
 friends were not used to driving in Fairhar- 
 
GOOD FAMILY HORSES. 51 
 
 bor, and they felt as if they had come to a 
 new place. They were in the best of spirits, 
 and enraptured with the handsome horse. 
 He made good time. He was easy at the bit. 
 He had no dangerous tricks. 
 
 " And he looks," said Corona hopefully, 
 " as if he had a strong constitution." 
 
 " Perhaps," ventured Mary, " he has had 
 everything, and come safely out of it. Let 
 us hope so." 
 
 " I think I shall buy him to-morrow, and 
 put him in Mr. Jacobs s barn, and get Zero 
 to take care of him," proceeded Corona. 
 " It will be a great comfort to have de 
 cided on a horse who could be driven with a 
 skein of sewing-silk and who is not afraid of 
 the Last Trumpet, and especially one who 
 would go for the doctor in twelve miles a 
 minut3." 
 
 " Was it twelve miles a minute f " asked 
 Mary, looking a little puzzled. " And 
 why, there, Corona, look there ! No. Look 
 here. What upon earth is the matter with 
 this horse ? How queerly he acts ! " 
 
52 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 " He does act a little queerly," admitted 
 Corona. 
 
 " He does n t seem to feel right about the 
 leg there." 
 
 " It is true, he does n t ; he seems to jerk 
 it a good deal," faltered Corona. " I don t 
 know what it means, I m sure." 
 
 " Do you think he s harnessed right ? " 
 queried Mary. They were in a very lonely 
 place, two miles from a man. 
 
 " Oh, yes ! I know it is n t the harness. 
 I can harness. I would n t take a lady to 
 drive if I could n t. I declare ! how this 
 horse does act ! I wonder if he has n t got 
 the outs, after all?" 
 
 " He looks like one of those wooden jump- 
 ing-jacks you put in children s Christmas 
 stockings," observed Mary, more courageously. 
 
 " He does seem uncomfortable," assented 
 Corona. a But I don t see that we can do 
 anything but drive back and ask somebody." 
 
 " Let us ask the first man we meet," sug 
 gested Mary. " He is likely to be unpreju 
 diced." 
 
GOOD FAMILY HORSES. 53 
 
 " Very well," assented Corona again. " But 
 if I had The Horse and his Habits here 
 I left it at home." 
 
 The first man they met was a letter-carrier. 
 It is one of the salient points of Fairharbor 
 that you meet letter-carriers in the wilderness 
 almost anywhere, just as you meet lamp 
 posts in the forest ; and that the government 
 kindly supplies them (I mean the carriers) 
 with little open buggies to ride in. 
 
 At the foot of the long sandy hills, in the 
 beautiful width of marsh and thicket and 
 pools of bright green water, with the sea at 
 their backs and the city two miles away at 
 their faces, the two ladies met the letter-car 
 rier in his carriage, and asked him what ailed 
 their horse. 
 
 " He seems to hitch his leg up and down 
 in a singular manner," said Mary, apologet 
 ically. 
 
 " I have n t paid for him," cried Corona, 
 hastily. " I thought I d like to ask some 
 stranger what he supposed ailed him. 3 
 
 The carrier leaned out luxuriously from 
 
54 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 the open buggy, and gave one languid look 
 at Pepper s right hind leg. 
 
 " Hain t bought him, ye say ? " with a gen 
 tle smile. 
 
 " Oh ? no ; not at all. But I had thought 
 I should until " 
 
 " I would n t if I was you/ observed the 
 carrier, driving on. 
 
 Without offering any further information 
 the officer of government departed, and left 
 the ladies and Pepper to their reflection. 
 Corona said she should drive straight to the 
 omnibus man and ask what was the matter 
 with that horse. She did so, as quickly as 
 possible ; Pepper meanwhile striking out ob 
 liquely and transversely at the sweet summer 
 air in a very unpleasant and irregular manner. 
 
 " He ? Oh ! He s got the spring-halt," 
 said the omnibus man. " I know him. He s 
 had it for years." 
 
 " The string-halt ? " said Corona to Mary 
 as they walked home. " I don t seem to re 
 member the string-halt. I don t believe it is 
 in my book." 
 
GOOD FAMILY HORSES. 55 
 
 " You 11 remember it now/ said Mary. 
 
 As Corona did not purchase that handsome 
 horse, she was fain to look about a little 
 more. She received a letter that interested 
 her from a person in a neighboring village, 
 who said he had a horse for sale which he 
 was sure would please her. It was just the 
 horse for a lady to drive. He hoped she would 
 give him a call. He would be honest with 
 her, he always meant to be honest with a 
 lady, and tell her there was one objection to 
 the horse : he was n t exactly handsome ; but 
 he had points enough to make up for that, 
 especially as a lady s horse. In particular, he 
 was very kind. Corona s faith in the com 
 mercial value of beauty having received a 
 shock, she was inclined to look up the horse 
 who owned to being not exactly handsome ; so 
 she and Mary drove to the neighboring vil 
 lage known by the beautiful Indian name 
 of Carriesquall to see the homely horse. 
 
 He proved to be, indeed, no Adonis ; but 
 he looked, as his owner averred, kind. In 
 fact, he did not look much but kind, if one 
 
56 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 told the truth. He was big, burly, gray, and 
 serious. He had a philosophical air, and re 
 garded Corona with the manner of one who 
 could teach her a few abstract truths, if he 
 thought it worth his while. 
 
 " Well, sir," said Corona, " we have trav 
 eled fourteen miles to see your horse. Is 
 this he ? " 
 
 " This is he," was the proud reply. " There 
 is n t a better horse in all Carriesquall, for a 
 lady s horse, than that there horse. He s 
 just as kind " 
 
 " What s his name ? " asked Corona. 
 
 " Wall, we call him the Old Army. But 
 you ken call him most anything you choose. 
 After you ve bought him." 
 
 " Was he in the army ? " cried Mary. 
 " How interesting ! Was he wounded ? " 
 
 "He was left for dead," said Old Army s 
 master, solemnly. " His master, which was 
 a major-general, never expected to get him 
 home alive." 
 
 " But he did ? " asked Mary, breathlessly, 
 quite forgetting herself. 
 
GOOD FAMILY HORSES. 57 
 
 " Yes, marm. He did. That there is the 
 very horse. And he s as kind " 
 
 " He looks kind/ observed Corona, ten 
 derly. How old is he ? " 
 
 Truth compels me to state that it had not, 
 up to this moment, occurred to her that the 
 military career of Old Army in the Civil War 
 could have any disadvantageous connection 
 with his age. To put it delicately, was it not 
 one in which she herself shared ? Had not 
 she, too, lived out the War? And did it 
 seem other than year before last since she 
 bade Tom good-by in the dark, on the pi 
 azza, at their father s house ? Handsome 
 boy ! How brave he looked, with that quiver 
 in the lip that kissed her ! And was it more 
 than last year that she caught him to her 
 heart again ? Safe, safe, safe, thank God 
 and fought it through ! No. She, too, had 
 " been through the War," and to her, too, as 
 to all others like her, it was a living, palpi 
 tating present, on which age could lay no 
 hand. A quarter of a century since Tom s 
 regiment marched away ? A quarter of a cen- 
 
58 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 tury since she snatched the list of " Killed, 
 Wounded, Missing* in the blurring, shak 
 ing paper every day ? A quarter of a cen 
 tury since 
 
 " He s just as kind " the master of Old 
 Army was saying very distinctly. Corona 
 started, and begged his pardon and, Mary, 
 did you speak? What is the price, sir, of 
 this kind and patriotic horse ? A price was 
 named ; but Corona did not listen, did not 
 hear. She and Old Army regarded each 
 other closely. She looked into the eyes of 
 the ancient warrior. She stroked his cheek 
 tenderly. She wanted him. But the veteran 
 responded to her gaze with a deep and intel 
 ligent look. He knew better than that. If 
 ever a horse tried to say to a purchaser, 
 " Don t do it ! You re very complimen 
 tary, and I appreciate it, but don t you do 
 it ! " that horse then and there essayed to do 
 that thing. 
 
 " How much did you say ? " asked Corona, 
 coming slowly to herself, and trying to look 
 like " The Horse and his Habits " bound in 
 
GOOD FAMILY HORSES. 59 
 
 two volumes at Old Army s master, who re 
 plied that he had said one hundred and 
 eighty dollars. 
 
 " That seems a large price for so old a 
 horse." 
 
 " Oh ! he was only ten come last March," 
 said Old Army s master, confidently. " He 
 ain t what you d call old yet." 
 
 " He is n t exactly young, you know," de 
 murred Corona, politely. 
 
 " Wall, I did n t suppose you was after a 
 colt, for a lady s horse. There s this about 
 a good, mature horse, you know. He s had 
 the measles and all those juvenile diseases. 
 You re sure he has n t got em to go through 
 again." 
 
 Mary hastily said that she thought this 
 was a great point. 
 
 " How many miles does he make ? " asked 
 Corona, pursuing her inquiries more rigor 
 ously, now, by force of reaction from that 
 vision of a score of years ago. Smoke, blood, 
 butchery, the arms thrown up in falling, the 
 flag flung to the bright sky above it all, 
 
60 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 let it pass. Let come, as come it must, and 
 pass. Through the red and awful mist how 
 pathetically look out the eyes of these dumb 
 things that we made soldiers of, who learned 
 the deadly skill of war, acquired its valor, 
 bore its tortures, earned its glory they knew 
 not how, and died, they knew not why ! 
 
 " How fast," proceeded Corona, bringing 
 herself violently back, " how fast can Old 
 Army go, on an average ? " 
 
 " Wall, he ain t a racer" reluctantly. 
 
 " I perceive that. But how much, for in 
 stance, will he make an hour? What kind 
 of a roadster is he ? " 
 
 " Wall, he don t go so very fast. But 
 he s an excellent lady s hoss. He s just as 
 kind " 
 
 " I don t underrate his kindness. But what 
 I want to know, before I purchase that horse, 
 is, exactly how much time you can get out of 
 him." 
 
 " If you feed him well ? " hopefully. 
 
 " Oh, yes ! If you feed him very well/ 
 
 " And don t over-use him ? " 
 
GOOD FAMILY HORSES. 61 
 
 " Never." 
 
 " Give him twelve quarts a day and his 
 hay?" 
 
 " Certainly. Fourteen, if he wishes it and 
 can work for it." 
 
 Wall," - - slowly. Wa-al," faintly. 
 " He s an excellent lady s hoss. And he s 
 as kind But he ain t so much on speed 
 as some bosses is. Fact is, he won t " 
 
 "Well? He won t "- 
 
 " Why, the fact is, he won t trot at all ! " 
 
IV. 
 
 THE LADY OF SHALOTT. 
 
 " THERE s ben a horse-man here to see 
 you/ said Puelvir. " Three of him. I sent 
 the fust one off myself." 
 
 " Why, Puelvir ! " 
 
 " Well, I did. He had a sort of shiny, 
 skity, graham-flour colored horse he said he 
 was sure you d buy. So I asked the grocer 
 when he come, and he said the critter had the 
 ganders. He said he d known him ever since 
 him and the horse were babies." 
 
 " Didn t he say the glanders, perhaps, Puel 
 vir?" 
 
 " No m/ said Puelvir stoutly. " This horse 
 had the ganders ; I m sure of it. So I took 
 it upon myself to tell him it was n t your re 
 ception-day, and you could n t see fashionable 
 callers. So he went away. He swore at me, 
 too." 
 
THE LADY OF SHALOTT. 63 
 
 " Swore at you, Puelvir ? " 
 
 " Yes. He said I was a darned old fool. 
 I don t know s I blame him. I hadn t got 
 my switch on, and I think I do look a little 
 mature mornin s. The next one, he come to 
 the front door and sot down in the parlor, do 
 my best. He said he d wait for you, n there 
 he sot. He had a span he wanted you to 
 buy. I told him you could n t keep a span, 
 because you had n t only me, and I could n t 
 take care of two ; it would interfere with the 
 cookin . He asked eight hundred and twenty, 
 five dollars for em. I asked him what he 
 took you for." 
 
 " Dear me, Puelvir ! You do turn them 
 off easily." 
 
 " Well, this one took the life out of me. 
 He sot, an sot. I warn t agoin to leave him 
 alon in the parlor, so I sot too. He looked 
 at the picters and the photograph albums n 
 he said he d heard you was quite well along 
 in years ; but he d never had the pleasure of 
 seem you to make your acquaintance. I told 
 him you was only twenty-five, and had re 
 fused more offers than any lady I knew of." 
 
64 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 " Why, Pue/vir ! " 
 
 " I did. I knew the kind of feller I d got 
 hold of. There warn t no other way to teach 
 him manners. He kinder meeked down after 
 that. So by and by I told him I d got a pud- 
 den to make, and that you d gone to Carrie- 
 squall to buy a horse you liked, so he d have 
 to excuse me. So I showed him the door, 
 and he drove his span away, spilin for a 
 
 It was in the midst of these agitating and 
 depressing days that there came a telegram 
 from Tom. It was dated : 
 
 " UNION PACIFIC RAILWAY, 
 Latitude and Longitude unknown, 
 June , 18 ." 
 
 and ran, 
 
 " If there is a man in Fairharbor you can 
 trust, trust him. Have known good horses 
 got that way. Can t get back till August. 
 
 TOM." 
 
 Corona filed the telegram for reference, and 
 meanwhile pursued her search, with various 
 and serious results. All the poetry of life was 
 
THE LADY OF SHALOTT. 65 
 
 now crushed under the mailed feet of horses. 
 The glamour of the sea and shore fled before 
 the whip of the jockey. She wondered how 
 long it would take whatever comfort she did 
 get out of her horse, when she got him at all, 
 to compensate for the loss of spiritual tone 
 which a month of horse-hunting had cost her ; 
 and then it occurred to her, perhaps for the 
 first time quite intelligently, to wonder how 
 it was with people who had to occupy them 
 selves with matters which interfered with the 
 spiritual tone, and how fair it was to try them 
 on the same sort of keyboard or tuning-fork 
 by which one would set the moral music of 
 different lives. 
 
 She pursued these very natural reflections 
 with the zest of novelty, while she and Mary 
 drove all about the wonderful Cape in the 
 long summer days. For still they rode and 
 rode. They rode with pretty horses and ugly 
 horses, serious horses and frivolous horses, safe 
 horses and dangerous horses. There was one 
 that went to sleep in the harness while they 
 were doing errands, and snored. There was 
 
66 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 one which they decided to buy, and the bar 
 gain was all but irrevocably closed, when Old 
 Father Morrison rowed the length of the Har 
 bor against a head wind, and arrived in an 
 exhausted condition just in time to say that he 
 knew a man who knew another man who said 
 his diseased wife s sister used to own that 
 horse, and then he was spavined and blind in 
 one eye. There was one very interesting an 
 imal that Mary took a fancy to, and he died 
 of an attack of the heaves while they were 
 driving in the woods, six miles from home. 
 Mary thought he had the whooping-cough, and 
 declared the trouble was that the horse was 
 too young. There was another which deeply 
 attracted Corona, but when her interest in him 
 had reached an advanced stage, one pleasant 
 morning he had the blind staggers, and ran 
 away with them, and threw them both out into 
 a blackberry thicket, and the owner sent in a 
 bill for the buggy. 
 
 Matters were in this discouraging position 
 when, one day, Puelvir said a- very pleasant- 
 complected gentleman had come to see about 
 
THE LADY OF SHALOTT. 67 
 
 a horse, and she had told him her mistress 
 would be down directly. When Corona an 
 swered this summons, she was surprised to find 
 an old Fairharbor acquaintance who had 
 moved to a neighboring- town, and whom she 
 had not seen for some time. His name was 
 Thumb, Mr. Thumb. He was a carpenter. 
 She greeted him cordially. Had he not once 
 been a neighbor ? And Fairharbor neighbors 
 all wore a kind of glamour to Corona. Each 
 one seemed to belong to her, to compose her 
 life in concentric layers, as the rings compose 
 a tree. 
 
 " I did n t know s you d recollect me," 
 said Mr. Thumb. 
 
 Corona assured him that she had never for 
 gotten him. 
 
 " I heard tell you wanted a horse," said Mr. 
 Thumb. 
 
 Corona s heart sank ; but she admitted the 
 fact. 
 
 " Hain t been very lucky, have ye ? " 
 
 Not very. But she hoped to succeed in 
 time. 
 
68 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 " Do you remember my little boy?" asked 
 the old neighbor, abruptly. 
 
 "Oh! perfectly/ said Corona. "Which 
 little boy ? Bob, or Freddy ? Or Benjamin 
 Franklin, or " 
 
 " Not any of them" interrupted the father. 
 " I mean my other little boy, my little dwarf 
 boy." 
 
 " Ah ! Yes, indeed, I do." 
 
 " The little deformed fellow, hunch-back, 
 they called him." 
 
 " Of course I remember him. Tommy, 
 was n t he ? " 
 
 " Yes, marm, Tom was his name. It was 
 a very unf ort nate name. But, you see, me n 
 his mother did n t know he was going to be 
 like that when we named him, and, seeing he 
 was christened so, his mother did n t like to 
 alter it ; for she s pious, being a perfessor. 
 He minded his name, I think, some. It made 
 him shy of the other children. He always 
 liked to be round a house with women folks." 
 
 "Yes, I remerVr," said Corona, softly, 
 " He was a dear little fellow. How is he 
 now?" 
 
THE LADY OF SHALOTT. 69 
 
 " Do you remember how you used to have 
 him over to see you when you was a summer 
 boarder, before you ever built, or his moth 
 er n me moved out o town ? " 
 
 " I had almost forgotten that. I only re 
 member what a dear little gentle thing he 
 
 was." 
 
 "Wall, you did. You used to ask him 
 over to sit in your hammock and play picture- 
 books on your floor. He was very fond of 
 you." 
 
 "He said," added Mr. Thumb, after a 
 pause, " that he felt like other boys when he 
 went to see that lady. He liked you. You 
 were good to him. Don t you remember, too, 
 when he had the fever, settin up nights with 
 him one spell ? And taking of him to ride 
 when he got better ? " 
 
 "It was such a little thing to do," said 
 Corona, with her eyes full. " I was well. I 
 was perfectly able. Anybody would." 
 
 " Do you think so ? v asked Mr. Thumb, 
 slowly. " Well, I don t know. But his 
 mother and me remember it. You made him 
 
70 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 a Jack-o -lantern, too ; he called it a Jack-me- 
 lantern ; he had such queer little ways. So I 
 thought I d come over to see you. I " 
 
 Mr. Thumb hesitated, rose, sat down again ; 
 the color came all over his plain, straightfor 
 ward face. 
 
 " I don t know how to say the thing I ? ve 
 come for to say, now I ve got here, exactly. 
 It ain t a common sort of business." 
 
 " Is Tommy pretty well ? " asked Corona, 
 cheerfully, to help him on. 
 
 "I guess so," said the father, looking 
 hard into his hat. " I hope the little fellow s 
 well these days. He died last March." . . . 
 
 " Oh ! " cried Corona, in her quick, impul 
 sive way. " Oh ! you poor people ! Oh ! I 
 never heard about it ! " 
 
 But she did not say she was sorry. Who 
 could be sorry for Tommy ? 
 
 " Of course he s well," she whispered, 
 " and straight, and like the other boys. 
 Dear littlo Tommy ! " 
 
 She found it hard not to say, How glad I 
 am ! But a glance at the father s face re- 
 
THE LADY OF SHALOTT. 71 
 
 strained her. Great, sparse tears were falling 
 into the carpenter s old felt hat. He brushed 
 them away with the back of his hand. 
 
 (Do working-people do this because grief 
 cannot wait for time to wash the fingers?) 
 He brushed away the tears, and rose to go. 
 
 " He died very quick and easy, marm. No 
 body knew what ailed him. But he s dead. 
 His mother and me, we miss him more n you 
 think we would. . . . And when I heerd 
 you wanted a horse, and the way them 
 traders was puttin on you, I says to his 
 mother, I 11 sell her my mare, if she wants it. 
 And I come over to say so. Would you like 
 to see her? She s tied outside." 
 
 Corona remembered Tom s telegram, and 
 she glanced at Mr. Thumb keenly. 
 
 " You are very good," she began, not 
 knowing what to say. 
 
 " No," said Mr. Thumb, putting his hat 
 on. " It s not that. Dare say I shall sell 
 the mare anyways to somebody. I want the 
 ready money. I shall have to ask you her 
 vally. She 11 fetch it, any time. If you 11 
 
72 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 trust me, I won t take a cent beyond it. 
 She s sound, and she s kind, and she s all 
 I 11 sell for. And she s a pretty fair road 
 ster. Tommy was very fond of that mare." 
 
 "I don t sell her so much to make a 
 trade," added Mr. Thumb, lifting his head, 
 " as I do because I want to sell you a good 
 horse. I says to his mother, She s been 
 kind to me. If you feel inclined to trust 
 me, ma am You need n t, if you don t 
 choose, you know ; there s no obligation to 
 it. But you ve been kind to me, and I d 
 like to see you have a good horse ! " 
 
 " I think," he said again, " that mebbe 
 Tommy d like it if he was round, you know. 
 . . . He ain t," added the father, pitifully. 
 
 The lady and her old neighbor looked into 
 each other s eyes for a moment, then Corona 
 held out her hand. 
 
 " Let us go out and see the horse," she 
 said, in a low voice. " If I like her, I shall 
 take her on trusty Mr. Thumb." 
 
 Mr. Thumb s eyes, though they were still 
 wet because of Tommy, twinkled pleasantly. 
 
THE LADY OF SHALOTT. 73 
 
 He thought of his ready money ; but it was 
 without alarm. A new phrase had been 
 added to the " horse talk " with which he 
 was familiar ; he repeated it to himself with 
 a decorous chuckle. 
 
 " She 11 take her on trust, will she ? Come, 
 I like that now ! " as he untied the mare from 
 the clothes-post and brought her out into the 
 road. 
 
 She was a pretty creature. Corona took in 
 her points rapidly, with an eye which experi 
 ence was training to the imperfect extent to 
 which experience can do much for any of us. 
 The mare was a good color, a chestnut ; she 
 had a straight backbone and broad, solid 
 hips, a clean-cut hoof, and eyes which indi 
 cated that she carried her heart in her brains. 
 Her teeth said that she was about five years 
 old. She carried her head daintily, had a 
 fine and sensitive skin and an air of refine 
 ment, which tells as quickly in a horse as in 
 a woman. She seemed to be in excellent 
 health. Mary said she did not believe any 
 thing would ail that horse unless it should be 
 nervous exhaustion. 
 
74 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 Puelvir said : 
 
 66 If you ve got to have another critter, 
 that s the critter ! " 
 
 Matthew Launcelot came out and sniffed 
 at the mare s delicate ankles, critically. He 
 had taken no interest in this horse business ; 
 it had filled him from the first with a melan 
 choly which at times amounted to misan 
 thropy ; he turned his back after a moment s 
 inspection, with the air of a connoisseur whose 
 opinion was undervalued ; returned to the 
 parlor sofa in disdain ; then suddenly, seem 
 ing to be overcome by emotion more powerful 
 than mere social prudence could manage, he 
 darted out, planted himself directly in front 
 of the horse, eyed her with savage intentness, 
 and proceeded to lift up his voice in a series 
 of prolonged and deafening howls, which 
 reverberated from cliff to bowlder with the 
 force of anguish bursting from a soul misun 
 derstood. 
 
 " The creetur s jealous of the critter," 
 said Puelvir. " I would n t have s posed he 
 had the brains. I think the more on him." 
 
THE LADY OF SHALOTT. 75 
 
 Corona patted the dog, who received her 
 caresses scornfully ; but she looked into the 
 eyes of the horse herself with a premonition 
 that was half sadness. 
 
 " Shall I love you too ? " she thought. For 
 Corona had learned that increase of love is 
 always increase of sympathy, and hence of 
 pain ; and that it was a toss-up in the dice of 
 fate whether so much as the heart of a dumb 
 thing is to be won without more cost than 
 comfort. The ladylike horse returned her 
 gaze with a certain solemnity. She seemed 
 to say she understood. She seemed to say : 
 
 " On the whole, does n t it pay ? " 
 
 " I 11 try her on the T)each," said Corona, 
 abruptly. 
 
 She took the mare out for an hour ; she 
 would let nobody go with her ; she felt that 
 they must understand each other by them 
 selves. The pretty creature was an excellent 
 roadstar. She had her little fears and tre 
 mors and frolics, as any horse of spirit ought 
 to have ; but she yielded to the voice, and 
 knew no tricks. Corona came home in love, 
 
76 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 hopelessly in love, and in chains to the 
 little pony. She preserved her worldly pres 
 ence of mind so far as to say that she would 
 keep the horse in a neighbor s stable for 
 twenty-four hours on trial, with Mr. Thumb s 
 permission ; but, in fact, she meant to buy, 
 and he knew she meant to. The deed was 
 practically done. 
 
 " What is her name, Mr. Thumb ? " asked 
 Corona, at the last moment, as Mr. Thumb 
 prepared to catch the ferry to catch the train 
 that would take him home without the mare. 
 
 " We called her Betty," said Mr. Thumb, 
 apologetically. 
 
 " I shall call her the Lady of Shalott," said 
 Corona, decisively. 
 
 " The what ? " asked Mr. Thumb, with his 
 mouth open. " The Lady-as-she-Ought ? 
 Well. Don t know s 1 ever heard a horse 
 called by that name before. Don t know but 
 it becomes her, too. Tommy called her 
 Betty ; that s all." 
 
 " I might call her the Lady Betty, half the 
 time," said Corona, quickly, " just to remem- 
 
THE LADY OF SHALOTT. 77 
 
 ber Tommy by. She shall always be Betty 
 to you, Mr. Thumb. When do you want 
 your ready money, if I keep the horse ? I 
 shall have to go to Boston to get it. Will 
 day after to-morrow do ? " 
 
 Mr. Thumb s face lighted with the gleam 
 that never was on sea or land in Fairharbor 
 commerce. " Day after to-morrow ! " in a 
 community where the lavish, reckless habits 
 of the sea invade the mortgaged shore to an 
 extent that makes ready money a psychical 
 phenomenon, " day after to-morrow ! " 
 
 " I would n t put ye out," said Mr. Thumb, 
 hurrying, radiant, home to tell it all to Tom 
 my s mother. 
 
 " Day after to-morrow ! " said Mary. " I m 
 afraid it will be hot. But I 11 go with you." 
 
 " Day after to-morrow ! " echoed Puelvir. 
 " I 11 cook a cabbage and have a biled dinner, 
 while I get the chance, and nobody nigh to 
 hender." 
 
 It happened that the little family thus idly 
 went about, each repeating the words with 
 some trifling personal emphasis of her own. 
 
78 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 " Day after to-morrow ! " as each afterward 
 remembered. 
 
 " When do you want me to begin to work 
 for wages ? " asked Zero, as he took away the 
 Lady-as-she-Ought to get her dinner. " Day 
 after to-morrow ? " 
 
 " Here s another of them Christian Union 
 Telegrabs," said Puelvir, coming into the par 
 lor that evening with her switch on and her 
 white apron. " The boy wants twenty -five 
 cents, he says, for bringing of it down. I told 
 him I d give him five, for you supported the 
 Company, and they d ought to deliver their 
 own goods, like other folks do." 
 
 The telegram was from Tom. It was dated 
 in Canada, and said : 
 
 " Can have my old buggy and second har 
 ness. Welcome. Tell Patrick freight Fair- 
 harbor. Home in three weeks. TOM." 
 
 " Dear Tom ! " said Corona. " The Holy 
 Catholic Inquisition could not compel him to 
 write me a letter. He says it is so much 
 cheaper to telegraph. But he does remem 
 ber." 
 
THE LADY OF SHALOTT. 79 
 
 She went singing about The Old Maid s 
 Paradise that evening ; her heart felt warm 
 and human, and what Puelvir would call 
 "like folks." She held Matthew Launcelot 
 lovingly, and told him the Lady of Sliulott 
 should never turn him off the parlor furni 
 ture and the lace pillow-shams, nor even from 
 the fine white shawls he always preferred for 
 cushions on muddy days. Matthew Launce 
 lot kissed her gratefully, and heaved a long, 
 long sigh. Those who love dogs know how 
 much these deep sighs signify in their emo 
 tional history. Matthew Launcelot was very 
 happy. Puelvir was happy, too. After her 
 dishes were done, she sat out on the rocks and 
 watched the sun go down, with a clean cook 
 ing-apron over her head. Puelvir could sing, 
 herself, when she was happy. She sang a 
 verse of a hymn she liked : 
 
 " Set ye e ee your tre a as ure i in the skyes ! 
 Where ihie e eeves break throu ough nor steal !" 
 
 She sang on a high and solemn quaver. The 
 summer boarders, strolling on the bright, wet 
 beach, looked up and smiled to hear her. It 
 
80 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 was a gentle, affectionate night. The waves 
 patted the grim rocks like children s fingers. 
 The sky was the color of the rose which we 
 call La France. The air was fresh and 
 tender. All the outgrowth of the sea had a 
 joyous mood. Peace was in Paradise. Even 
 Zero went over to the stable to stroke the 
 Lady of Shalott, lest she should be homesick. 
 (If the truth must be told, the Lady resented 
 this, because Zero had been stripping mack 
 erel.) But Mary lighted a lamp, and sat 
 down in a halo of mosquitoes to write to Mr. 
 Sinuous. She missed him. This is the unfor 
 tunate difference between an old maid and a 
 young wife. Corona and Puelvir, who missed 
 nobody, felt that they had the advantage. 
 
V. 
 
 FEE-FI-FUM AND I. O. U. 
 
 CORONA and Mary went to Boston to get 
 Mr. Thumb s ready money for the Lady of 
 Shalott. It proved to be a very warm day. 
 The two ladies left the shore with the pas 
 sionate regret of " summer people " doomed 
 to a day in town. To put off the short, 
 straight, sturdy beach-dress, and to put on 
 flounces and a waist with a lining across the 
 shoulders ; to leave behind the shade-hat that 
 hangs like the arch of merciful heaven be 
 tween one s eyes and the July sun, and to be 
 abandoned to a piece of lace and an artificial 
 flower on top of the head ; to squeeze tanned 
 hands into tight gloves, and happy feet set 
 at ease by tennis-shoes into new boots with a 
 French heel ; to begin to grow warm in the 
 omnibus, too warm at the station, miserable 
 
82 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 at the first stop, desperate at Beverly, dan 
 gerous at Salem, frantic at Chelsea, and past 
 praying for by the time one reaches Somer- 
 ville, this is to go to town from Fairhar- 
 bor in July. To gasp for one blessed breath 
 like a Cape Ann mackerel in a dory ; to find 
 one s necessary errands dwindling to an incon 
 ceivable minimum by the tune the open horse- 
 car conies in sight of the Old South Church ; 
 to become convinced before you turn up Tem 
 ple Place that everything you came in for can 
 wait better than not till December ; to flee to 
 Parker s and call for ice, and tell the waiter 
 you have had a sun-stroke ; to sit clinging to 
 the time-table of the Eastern Division, for 
 dear life, in fierce demand for an earlier than 
 the earliest train that will take you home 
 again ; to divide the blistering moments by 
 wondering how the cashier and head waiter 
 bear it, and by visions of getting into your 
 bathing-clothes, and wading out, barefoot, 
 neck-deep into that great, brown, blessed wave 
 which is at this instant wasting itself in front 
 of your deserted door ; to vow that if you 
 
FEE-F1-FUM AND I. 0. U. . 83 
 
 ever see that wave and that door once more, 
 the contents of the Safety Vaults of State 
 Street and the Equitable Building could not 
 tempt you to leave again till the first snow 
 storm, this is to go to town from Fairhar- 
 bor in July. 
 
 The ladies went. It was warm, very 
 warm. They found Corona s man of busi 
 ness. He looked warm, too warm. They 
 sat and mopped and sopped and fanned and 
 looked at each other with a civil endurance 
 during the transaction of the errand. Corona 
 felt that the broker regarded it as a very small 
 errand to be troubled with on a day like that. 
 She missed Tom, who had been her usual ad 
 viser, and hoped she should make no mistake 
 which would endanger the financial interests 
 of the country. 
 
 " You see," she explained, " I am going to 
 make a purchase to-morrow that requires a 
 good deal of ready money. My bank account 
 won t meet it." 
 
 " A new portiere, perhaps ? Or a Persian 
 rug ? " inquired the gentleman, smiling idly. 
 
84 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 He was an old friend of the family, and privi 
 leged to a certain amount of chaffing, in con 
 sideration of the trouble that friendship (es 
 pecially a lady s friendship) is sure to cost a 
 business man. 
 
 When Corona told him that it was a new 
 horse, the business man gave his eyebrows a 
 Gothic arch. 
 
 " Brother select him for you ? " 
 
 " My brother is in Canada. I selected the 
 horse myself." 
 
 " Ah ? " said the business man. But he 
 said no more. He knew where his business 
 ended and hers began ; or, more probably, it 
 was too warm to express his reflections. They 
 bubbled and melted away into that kind 
 of inane and mute compassion with which one 
 regards other people s affairs in July in Bos 
 ton. 
 
 " I must sell a bond," said Corona, " a 
 small bond. I thought I would like to ask 
 your advice about it. I promised to pay for 
 the horse to-morrow." 
 
 " Good horse ? " asked the man of business, 
 hesitating. 
 
FEE-FI-FUM AND L O. U. 85 
 
 " I think so," said Corona. " I trusted a 
 man to do the right thing by me." 
 
 " Trusted a man ? " cried the broker, 
 forgetting himself. " About a horse ? " 
 
 " I did," firmly. " I don t know that it 
 would be any worse to be cheated trusting 
 than to be cheated suspecting. Would it? " 
 
 " Possibly not/ mused the broker. He 
 looked as if he had never thought of that. 
 
 " Assuming, of course/ said Corona, " that 
 I am to be cheated anyhow." 
 
 66 Oh ! yes/ said the business man, prompt 
 ly, " assuming that, anyhow. But about this 
 bond ? You might sell your Phi Beta Kappa 
 and Alpha and Omega/ that Arizona bond, 
 you know." 
 
 " Phi Beta Kappa is a thousand-dollar bond, 
 is n t it," objected Corona. " I don t want 
 to sell a large investment." 
 
 " There s your Horse Railroad Scrip in 
 Scatteree ; I think you have six shares of that, 
 if I remember." 
 
 " I ve forgotten where Scatteree is," 
 pleaded Corona, with humility. She was apt 
 to forget where things were. 
 
86 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 The broker reminded her that Scatteree 
 was in Yucatan. 
 
 " Or/ he suggested, "you could part with 
 one of those New Jerusalem City 6s Water 
 Loan. They are selling at Dick! What s 
 New Jerusalem 6s Water Loan quoted at to 
 day ? One hundred and seventeen and three 
 quarters ? You could sell for one hundred 
 and seventeen and .three quarters." 
 
 " I ve no doubt I might/ replied Corona, 
 looking as intelligent as possible, and trying 
 valiantly not to laugh at the expression of 
 lady-like vagueness, not unmingled with alarm, 
 on Mary s face. Mary had never been down 
 State Street before. Mr. Sinuous attended to 
 that. " But I have a fancy to hold on to the 
 New Jerusalem 6s for a while." 
 
 " In view of a rise ? " asked the broker. 
 
 " Oh ! no ; only I like the name." 
 
 " I must save that/ said the broker. " I 
 must tell your brother that. He would appre 
 ciate it as much as anybody I know. Well, 
 how would you like to sell Here ! I have 
 it ! Have n t you some stock in the Im- 
 
FEE-FI-FUM AND L 0. U. 87 
 
 mediate Alarm Company for Waking up Ser 
 vants by Electricity ? No ? I thought you 
 had. Hm-m-m. Have you a few shares of the 
 Every Man his own Correspondent ? That 
 concern which has patented a type-writer to 
 answer letters without dictation. That thing 
 you wind up, you know, and let it alone ; and 
 it goes off and replies to everybody in a neat 
 circular adapted to the case, and no trouble to 
 you. It s quite an invention. It is n t on the 
 market yet ; but the shares have gone up to 
 four hundred already. It is expected to revo 
 lutionize modern society. It is especially con 
 structed with reference to autograph-hunters, 
 I am told, and people asking for advice and 
 loans. It s a great thing. You ought to have 
 
 some." 
 
 " Let me see," added the broker, after a 
 moment s thought. " Don t you own some 
 of theFee-Fi-Fum?" 
 
 " I believe I do, a little ; I m not sure 
 how much. I shall be perfectly willing to 
 part with that." 
 
 " The Fee-Fi-Fum and the I. 0. U. ? " 
 
 " Yes. I m sure I have." 
 
88 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 " The Fee-Fi-Fum and the I. 0. U., leased 
 by the X. Y. Z. " 
 
 "Yes. I believe it is leased by the X. 
 Y. Z." 
 
 "There we have it," said the broker. 
 " You had better sell a $500 bond of that. 
 Have you a record ? " 
 
 Yes, she had a record ; she produced it. 
 
 " Take a duplicate copy/ said the broker, 
 " in case of accident. I 11 read it off to you. 
 I 11 trouble you to write as fast as you can : 
 Registered Bond, No. 30,075 of the Fee-Fi- 
 Fum and the I. 0. U. ? Got that ? " 
 
 Yes, she had that. 
 
 " And the I. 0. U., in Dakota?" 
 
 " I had n t anything about Dakota," inter 
 rupted Corona. 
 
 " That is an important point. Add in 
 Dakota. You must distinguish, you know, 
 from the I. 0. U. in New Mexico. Those are 
 4s and mature in 88." 
 
 " Oh ! yes ; so I must. So they do," said 
 Corona, with her keenest State Street expres 
 sion. " I see. I have it now. I. 0. U. in 
 Dakota. Go on." 
 
FEE-FI-FUM AND I. O. U. 89 
 
 " Leased by the X. Y. Z. and Yankosell. 
 Have you got the X. Y. Z. and Yanko 
 sell ? First Mortgage Land Grant, Non-Ex 
 empt, Redeemable in 2009. Interest payable 
 1st January at Behring s Strait. Have you 
 got all that ? 6 Nine and three tenths per cent. 
 That s all. Now, you just get that bond out 
 of your vaults and take it to Jump & Jiggles 
 in Merchant s Trapeze. Jump & Jiggles deal 
 in Fee-Fi-Fum and I. 0. U. more than I do. 
 They 11 do it quicker for you. You must get 
 there before two o clock. Take a bank check, 
 and be careful of it. If anything happens 
 you don t get it sold to-day, and you don t 
 want to come in again " 
 
 " The entire rolling stock of the Fee-Fi- 
 Fum Railroad Company," observed Corona, 
 " would not tempt me to come in again this 
 
 summer." 
 
 " I don t blame you," said the broker, sadly. 
 " I would n t if I were you. In that case, your 
 Fairharbor bank will tell you how to dispose 
 of it on the spot, I ve no doubt. The Fee- 
 Fi-Fum is as good as a national silver bill. 
 
90 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 Almost any solid business man in Fairharbor 
 would be glad to take it off your hands. The 
 Fee-Fi-Fum and I. 0. U. is n t often on the 
 market. People jump at it. You 11 have no 
 more trouble a little bond like this than 
 you would with a check. It s registered, 
 which makes it perfectly safe. But you might 
 as well sell it if you have time. Don t carry 
 the cash with you. Better express whatever 
 you carry, if you know your expressman. 
 It s safer than a lady s shopping-bag. Can 
 I do anything more for you ? My regards 
 to your brother. Good-morning. I hope 
 your horse will be w r orth it. Good-morning." 
 As luck would have it, by the time the la 
 dies had stopped for Mary to get some iced 
 soda, and to match some tulle, and get a 
 paper of invisible hair-pins, and attend to 
 a few other of those imperious errands which 
 have to be done when one comes into town 
 from seashore in July, by the time Corona 
 had obtained her Fee-Fi-Fum and I. 0. U. 
 bond and reached the office of Messrs. Jump 
 & Jiggles with it, the clock was striking two. 
 
FEE-FI-FUM AND I. O. U. 91 
 
 and Messrs. Jump & Jiggles had gone. At 
 least, Mr. Jump had gone ; he was half-way 
 to the Nahant boat. Mr. Jiggles was just 
 closing the door, fanning himself with his hat 
 as he did so, in the blasphemous kind of way 
 in which men do use a fan, as if it were a 
 cultivated substitute for a wicked word. But 
 Mr. Jiggles said that they never did business 
 (in July) after the clock struck, 
 
 So Corona (remembering the good broker s 
 advice) decided to send her registered bond 
 home by the expressman. It was the same ex 
 pressman who had brought Matthew Launce- 
 lot to her house when Tom first presented 
 him to her, and before the dog ran away and 
 was bought over again by Mary, and given 
 to his mistress the second time, which Mary 
 has never known to this day. So Corona 
 naturally felt that she could trust the express 
 man ; he seemed intimately bound up in her 
 family history. The expressman therefore 
 took her bond and promised to deliver it that 
 evening ; and the ladies took the next train 
 home with fervent speed. 
 
92 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 As they came in sight of the cottage, full 
 into the force of the live east wind, which 
 broke against their scarlet, dusty faces as if 
 it had been a great wave itself, all the blazing 
 city seemed to recede from their consciousness 
 like a dream of a vast conflagration. 
 
 " I am becoming a native," said Corona. 
 " I flop back to this coast like a Cape Ann 
 fish into the sea. Do you suppose that broker 
 is sizzling there yet ? " 
 
 " It has been a little warm," assented 
 Mary, in her ladylike way. She felt that Co 
 rona overstated things. 
 
 Oh ! but it was cool in Paradise ! It was 
 heavenly cool in Paradise. All the brown 
 blinds were drawn ; a warm and mellow gloom 
 filled the gray parlor and the green bedroom. 
 The old muslin curtains stirred delicately at 
 the open windows, like sails in a slowly mov 
 ing pleasure-boat. The flowers and ferns 
 about the house seemed grateful for the 
 shade and water. The modest upholstery 
 and all the little, simple devices of this plain 
 home were in cool summer tints, and met one 
 restfully. 
 
FEE-FI-FUM AND I. 0. U. 93 
 
 Matthew Launcelot was asleep (on his back, 
 with all four paws in the air) on a large, em 
 broidered linen towel, which he had dragged 
 from the towel-rack and put directly in the 
 draught on the straw carpet in the middle of 
 the guest-room floor. He looked at least 
 cool. Outside, Zero had the Lady of Shalott 
 tied to the clothes-post in the east wind to 
 feed upon the short cool grass. Puelvir, in a 
 light muslin dress, with an old-fashioned green 
 sprig on it, sat by the kitchen window with 
 the fire out. Comforted by her cabbage, she 
 was embroidering a linen night-dress, which 
 she kept for fancy work ; she said she wanted 
 one decent night-gownd to die in ; she was 
 always in good spirits when she was working 
 on this garment. As the ladies, fresh from 
 their bath, roamed about the house in dainty 
 deshabille, they could hear her singing as she 
 sang before : 
 
 " Set ?/<3-e-ee your re-a-as-ure i-in the 
 skyes, where /we-ie-eeves break thro-ough, 
 
 nor " 
 
 " There s the expressman ! " cried Puelvir, 
 
94 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 interrupting herself at this point. " He a 
 brought a yellow package. It looks like an 
 overgrowed big telegraph. And land ! if he 
 ain t got my peddler settin alongside of him 
 on the front seat." 
 
 " Who, pray, is your peddler ? " asked her 
 mistress, hurrying down to receive her reg 
 istered bond with an agitation which she 
 flattered herself passed for masterly uncon 
 cern. 
 
 " Oh ! just a peddler come peddlin to 
 day," replied Puelvir. " He peddled a patent 
 kind of scented soft soap to save a girl scrub- 
 bin of blankets and bed quilts, and a sort of 
 dog-food he wanted me to buy for Matthew 
 Launcelot. He was a very gentlemanly ped 
 dler ; he said I reminded him of a girl he 
 knew that died, that he was fond of. I told 
 him that mought be, but you was n t to home, 
 and I could n t have nothin to do with him 
 in your absence. He was sot to come in and 
 get a drink of ice water " 
 
 " Mercy, Puelvir ! I hope you did n t let 
 him?" 
 
FEE-FI-FUM AND I. 0. U. 95 
 
 " What do you take me for. Miss Corona ? " 
 said Puelvir, with dignity. " He sot on that 
 there coal-bin, and there, I says, you may set. 
 I don t receive strange gentlemen when she 
 ain t to hum. So he sot on the coal-bin and 
 I sot on the steps, and the dog he sot between 
 us, and he raised the cannibal islands. I 
 never see a creetur holler in my born days as 
 that creetur hollered at that there peddler. 
 He said he was a handsome dog, n Matthew 
 up n at his trousers leg n bit a piece out, 
 they was nice trousers, of a checkered pattern, 
 and become him very well, and then he 
 said the dog was a dam puppy, and then he 
 went away. He said he was tired, and was 
 agoin to get somebody to give him a lift over 
 to the city. That s him. The expressman s 
 picked him up. Yes, it s him." 
 
 " Ah ! " said Corona, coming out, with an 
 air of supernatural lightness. " I see you 
 have brought my package from the dye- 
 house." 
 
 " What ? m ? " said the expressman. 
 
 " My package from the dye-house," re 
 peated Corona, severely. 
 
96 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 " Oh ! yes, marm, yes ! I see. I ve got 
 your package from the dye-house all right. 
 In a hurry for it, I s pose ? " 
 
 The expressman winked as he handed over 
 the Fee-Fi-Fum bond to the lady. It was 
 ill-mannered, not to say dangerous, in the 
 expressman ; but he did wink visibly. The 
 peddler, sitting beside him, did not notice 
 this, however ; which was a great relief to 
 Corona. The long, yellow bond envelope, 
 sealed and resealed with the great money-de 
 partment seal of the great Adams Express 
 Company, passed from the hands of the ex 
 press-driver to the hands of the lady. But 
 the peddler, unfamiliar with such matters, re 
 garded it idly. If the seal of Lewando or 
 Barrett thus protected a dyed ribbon or an 
 old piece of lace, what was that to a peddler 
 of dog-food and scented soft soap ? 
 
 He asked Corona if she would purchase 
 any soap ; but said it was of no consequence, 
 when she declined. He said his dog-food 
 But after this he said no more. There came 
 a soft pattering upon the uncarpeted floor, an 
 
FEE-F1-FUM AND I. 0. U. 97 
 
 unceremonious whisk of Puelvir s petticoats, 
 a swift glimpse below them of a dark, of 
 fended, blaek-and-tan countenance, framed in 
 white and green sprigged muslin and Mat 
 thew Launcelot sprang, with one terrible 
 snarl, upon that peddler of dog -food and 
 scented soap. Over the wheel, into the wag 
 on, past the expressman, upon the peddler, 
 the terrier, in a lightning photograph, leaped 
 convulsively. The expressman laughed and 
 the peddler swore ; but Matthew was in ear 
 nest. The horses started, the wagon reeled 
 over the big bowlders, and rattled violently 
 away but Matthew Launcelot held on. 
 
 66 He s gone out of sight with em ! " cried 
 Pualvir, greatly excited. " I 11 bet he 11 fol- 
 ler that peddler to prison, or the gallows, but 
 he 11 have another mouthful of them checked 
 pantaloons. It s too bad ; for they did be 
 come him." 
 
 It was late that evening when Matthew 
 Launcelot returned. He seemed tired and 
 slsepy. He brought home a large piece of 
 green checked pantaloon cloth, which he wor- 
 
98 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 ried continually, as if it had been a rat that 
 would n t die ; and, finally, hid it in the china- 
 closet, in an empty Albert biscuit box he 
 knew of. He tried to put the cover on, but 
 he was too sleepy. 
 
 But Corona paid no attention to Matthew 
 Launcelot. She and Mary sat in the parlor, 
 with the door shut, and held the long yellow 
 envelope, sealed with the seal of the Adams 
 Express Company. 
 
 " What in the world am I to do to-night," 
 demanded Corona, " with this Fee-Fi-Fum 
 and I. 0. U. Registered Bond, leased by the 
 X. Y. Z. and Yankosell?" 
 
VI. 
 
 THE BURGLARY. 
 
 IT is a matter of familiar observation that 
 great truths are epidemic. Discoveries go in 
 the atmosphere. The conditions of intellectual 
 climate, which lead the human mind to work 
 in a given direction at a given time and place, 
 compel the other human mind across the world 
 or across the village to the same intuition, 
 
 O 
 
 inspiration, or deduction, at the corresponding 
 season. While the ladies in the parlor were 
 counting out their money, the servants in the 
 kitchen of the Old Maids Paradise, if not 
 strictly eating bread and honey (doughnuts, 
 to be precise, by means of which Puelvir was 
 in the habit of bribing Zero to share with her 
 the burdens of domestic life) Puelvir and 
 Zero were conducting the following dialogue. 
 Zero had wandered in, with something on 
 
100 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 what he called his mind. But Zero was nat 
 urally reticent. 
 
 " Puelvir," he said, after the sixth dough 
 nut had lubricated his reserve, " where does 
 she keep her money ? " 
 
 " Who put you up to that ? " asked Puelvir, 
 dropping a goblet, and giving the boy a look 
 which would have done justice to Matthew 
 Launcelot when he saw the peddler. 
 
 " I lieerd some boys up-street sayin she 
 must have a sight. They asked me where she 
 kep it," replied Zero, in his listless, honest, 
 stupid way. 
 
 " You just tell m," said Puelvir, " she ain t 
 got none. Never has none. She s poor, Miss 
 Corona is, only she s too proud to let on. You 
 tell em I said so." 
 
 " Yes," said Zero, gently. " I 11 tell em 
 you said so." 
 
 " She keeps all her money in New York," 
 added Puelvir, nonchalantly. " When she s 
 got a bill to pay she has just enough come 
 on to pay that bill, and pays it right away 
 before supper. She has it come by ex 
 
THE BURGLARY. 101 
 
 It comes by telephone. All her money comes 
 by special arrangement with the Telephone 
 Company. It s a new invention they have ; 
 her brother, he got em to do it for her. They 
 don t do it for anybody else. Why, she s 
 so hard up she has to borry of me. I lent 
 her two dollars yesterday ; Miss Mary s the 
 same. She had to get fifty cents of me to pay 
 the banana man. All your wages and mine 
 come by telephone, and there can t nobody get 
 the cash of ern but herself. That s what she 
 bought a horse for ; to go over to get em, she 
 has to go so often. You just tell them boys, 
 now, won t you ? " 
 
 " Yee-es," drawled Zero, " if they arx me, 
 I 11 tell em. I thought myself she must keep 
 as much as twenty-six or seven dollars in the 
 house. But I 11 tell em." 
 
 But Corona and Mary in the parlor w r ere 
 consulting in whispers. The bond of the Fee- 
 Fi-Fum and I. 0. U. lay upon Corona s lap. 
 
 Mary suggested that they telegraph to Mr. 
 Thumb to come over and get it that night ; 
 she thought it would be such a relief. But 
 
102 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 Corona replied that Mr. Thumb lived in North 
 East Carriesquall, and that the telegraph had 
 not reached in fact, would never reach 
 to North East Carriesquall. They were in for 
 it, she said, and must harbor that bond to 
 night, at all events. Neither of the ladies 
 felt any fear of anything happening to the 
 bond, unless, as Mary said, the house took fire ; 
 but the novelty of sleeping in the house with 
 a registered bond oppressed them. It was as 
 if they had too much company, and no spare 
 room. 
 
 " I wish I d asked the broker where to 
 put it," observed Corona. " He might have 
 known." 
 
 " What is the I. 0. U. ? " asked Mary, med 
 itatively. " What does it stand for ? " 
 
 " I don t know," confessed Corona. 
 
 " And what is Yankosell ? What does that 
 mean ? " 
 
 66 1 did know that," said Corona, bright 
 ening. " But I ve forgotten." 
 
 " Does n t anybody know ? " asked Mary. 
 
 " I never heard of anybody that did," said 
 
THE BURGLARY. 103 
 
 Corona. " I dare say the Treasurer does. 
 I 11 ask Tom. What should you think of 
 putting this bond in the parlor stove-pipe ? " 
 
 But Mary objected that there might be a 
 cold northeast storm in the morning, and Fuel- 
 vir might light a fire. Mary suggested taking a 
 few nails out of the carpet and slipping it un 
 der. But Corona thought that had been tried 
 too often. She believed the house always did 
 take fire when that was done. 
 
 They discussed the question of hiding it 
 behind the books in the library ; but Corona s 
 sea-side library consisted of a book-case with 
 two shelves and a top that held the dictionary. 
 Corona proposed taking the bond to her own 
 bedroom ; but Mary said that was tempting 
 Providence to commit a murder. Mary added 
 that she thought this was a very dangerous 
 way to live without any man about ; and 
 that she had had a letter from Mr. Sinuous, 
 saying he wanted her to come home this week. 
 
 Corona asked if it seemed to be any easier 
 living without a woman about. But Mary 
 did not see the force in what she Considered 
 a feeble joke cast at a serious matter. 
 
104 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 She talked a great deal that evening about 
 the loneliness of Corona s unprotected life. 
 
 " Unprotected fiddle-de-dee ! " said Corona, 
 with more spirit than politeness. 
 
 After much conversation and contemplation, 
 it was decided how to dispose of the registered 
 bond of the Fee-Fi-Fum and I. 0. U., for that 
 one night ; and Mr. Thumb would be on the 
 spot early on that " day after to-morrow " to 
 which a single night s repose would now 
 swiftly bring this excited and wearied family. 
 The bond was put into a drawer in Corona s 
 desk, which stood at the head of the sofa in 
 the parlor a natural and suitable place, 
 which both ladies approved of. Corona locked 
 the drawer and took the key, and said they 
 would say nothing to anybody not even to 
 Puelvir. They locked up the house with 
 their usual fidelity ; perhaps with a little more 
 than that ; but nothing was done about clothes 
 lines, or hose, or hot water, or any of those 
 modern improvements in burglar alarms, be 
 cause that would involve explaining to Puelvir 
 that they .were sleeping in the same house 
 
THE BURGLARY. 105 
 
 with a $500 registered bond. They were all 
 tired and went early to bed. 
 
 " Where is Matthew Launcelot ? " asked 
 Corona, remembering at half -past nine that 
 she had not seen the dog that evening. 
 
 " I don t know whether he J s dead or deef/ 
 said Puelvir, carelessly. " Or mebbe he 
 mought be tired wrastlin with that scented 
 soft-soap peddler ; but I can t wake the critter 
 nohow. He just dropped down alongside the 
 Albert biscuit box in the China closet, with 
 one of his paws see ! laid acrosst that 
 piece of green-check he brought home, and 
 there he lays. He s ben asleep since ever 
 he come home. I tried to wake him to put 
 him to bed ; but you mought as well set out 
 to wake Methuselah s mother-in-law. It ain t 
 no moral use." 
 
 " Poor little fellow ! " said Corona, idly. 
 " He does seem tired. Let him sleep." 
 
 But Mary s mind continued to dwell on Co 
 rona s unprotected situation. Mary s mind 
 sometimes worked in a way peculiar to herself. 
 When Corona was passing into her first cool 
 
106 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 dream, at the close of that .warm and wor 
 ried day, she was startled by hearing her door 
 open (it was not locked), and Mary glided in, 
 with all her long, bright hair down over her 
 ruffled and embroidered night-dress, looking 
 in the moonlight (for it was moonlight) like 
 a lovely etching on mellow Japanese paper. 
 
 " Corona," said Mary, " I just came in to 
 ask a question. What has ever become 
 of- -?" 
 
 She mentioned a name at which Corona s 
 placid, healthy heart gave one bound, and then 
 stood still. 
 
 " He s out West somewhere, I believe," she 
 answered, with magnificent carelessness. 
 
 " Oh ! " said Mary. " I did n t know but 
 you d kept that up, somehow, and not cared 
 to talk about it." 
 
 " I don t know what has become of him, 
 I m sure," replied Corona. " I did not think 
 it best to keep anything up." 
 
 " I always thought you made a mistake, 
 dear," said Mary, stooping to kiss her in the 
 faint light. Her pretty hair fell over Corona s 
 
THE BURGLARY. 107 
 
 face, as she stooped. " I hoped you had n t 
 cut everything entirely off." 
 
 " Atropos cuts/ said Corona, laughing 
 as women laugh when they would n t cry for 
 the world and all that is therein. " All we 
 do is to look on. Don t get to thinking 
 about my old flirtations, Mollie, at this time of 
 night. There ! Go back to bed, you pretty 
 creature, and go to sleep." 
 
 So Mary did ; but Corona lay long awake ; 
 too long ; so long that she was quite spent 
 at last, from sleeplessness and for other rea 
 sons, and slept, when she slept, almost as 
 heavily as Matthew Launcelot down below 
 there, prone by the Albert biscuit box, with 
 one paw across the green-checked mouthful 
 of the peddler s pantaloons. 
 
 They had a late breakfast next morning, 
 and the little family collected leisurely. Mary 
 and Puelvir were in excellent spirits ; but Co 
 rona felt tired, and Matthew Launcelot was de 
 pressed and non-committal. He still slept a 
 good deal, and treated his breakfast of mack 
 erel and griddle-cakes with an ill-concealed 
 contempt. 
 
108 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 The ladies were still at the breakfast-table 
 talking lazily ; Corona had sent word to Zero 
 to have the Lady of Shalott brought round to 
 the clothes-post at ten o clock ; Mary had said 
 that she believed she must go home before 
 Sunday. She had just asked what time Mr. 
 Thumb was coming for his ready money, when 
 Puelvir flung open the kitchen door without 
 ceremony, and rushed into the dining-room. 
 
 " Land, land, land, land ! " cried Puelvir. 
 
 "Somebodv s broke in ! " 
 
 t/ 
 
 66 Broken in where ? " asked her mistress, 
 without interest. Puelvir s burglars were be 
 coming an old story. 
 
 " Broke in here ! That there two-foot 
 winder is smashed in. I never see it till this 
 minute ; and one of my squash-pies is ate, 
 and some tomayto sauce. There s been bur 
 glars in this house, this livin night, as I say 
 these words, or I m a widder with five, and 
 left with a property ! " 
 
 Corona and Mary looked at each other. 
 Corona turned pale, but she commanded her 
 self. She felt in a confused way that some 
 
THE BURGLARY. 109 
 
 one must command somebody. She pushed 
 back her chair quietly, went into her little 
 gray parlor, and up to the desk. 
 
 Every drawer in the desk but one was taken 
 out and overturned. A melange of letters 
 and grocers books lay upon the floor. The 
 drawer which had not been taken out was 
 the one which had contained the $500 regis 
 tered bond. It was quite empty. 
 
 The first thing which Corona did was to 
 call Puelvir the only creature in the world 
 on whom she really depended. Instinct went 
 out to that one in the tension of emergency. 
 She briefly explained to Puelvir the dreadful 
 fact. Puelvir herself turned very pale ; then 
 the color came and came in waves over her 
 gaunt, high-cheeked, homely face. 
 
 66 Miss Corona, if you d told me, I d ha set 
 up all night long to watch your property ! 
 And you KNOW I would ! " 
 
 But Puelvir s rebuke stopped here, for that 
 moment and for all time. She felt that her 
 mistress had been punished enough. 
 
 The three women shut and locked the doors 
 
110 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 and searched the house ; but the bond was 
 gone. They sifted the mass of papers with ter 
 rible conscientiousness ; but the bond was 
 gone. Puelvir would seize on something, 
 and say, " Ain t this it, now ? " and Corona 
 would reply that that was last year s fish bill. 
 Mary would say she believed she had found 
 it, and Corona would say, " That ? Oh ! 
 that s nothing but an offer from a widower." 
 
 o 
 
 Then Mary would snatch up something else 
 and say this must be it, and Corona would 
 admit that it was a rejected Sunday-school 
 book from a New Orleans firm. Then Puelvir 
 would declare she d got it now, and Co 
 rona would shake her head and file away her 
 fire-insurance policy. Once Corona thought 
 she had found the bond herself ; but it proved 
 to be Tom s doctor s bill for the baby from 
 New Year s to April Fool s Day. The values 
 were so nearly equivalent that the mistake 
 was natural. But the bond was gone. They 
 looked up the stove-pipe ; they ripped the car 
 pets; they took every book out of the book 
 case (this was Mary s idea) ; but the bond 
 
THE BURGLARY. Ill 
 
 gone. They examined the pantry, and the 
 two-foot window, the squash-pie plate, and the 
 tomato dish. But the bond was gone. A red 
 lead pencil and a piece of tobacco lay upon 
 the woodpile. These were the only traces left 
 by the burglar. The front door was found 
 unlocked. The intruder had entered by the 
 wood-shed window, helped himself to the con 
 tents of the larder, wandered freely about the 
 lower story of the cottage, passed safely by 
 Matthew Launcelot, who had offered no per 
 sonal objections 
 
 " Where is that dog, now ? " asked Corona, 
 in a voice destitute of affection. 
 
 " Layin on your white muslin wrapper 
 the one I j ust done up in your bed-room, 
 sleepin like a cherubim on a monyment," said 
 Puelvir. " He s slep like the sperits of the 
 just made perfect ever since I shooed him 
 out the china closet come breakfast time." 
 
 The burglar, it seemed, having passed by 
 this dangerous animal without peril, had leis 
 urely rummaged the contents of the table- 
 drawers (Corona was convinced that he had 
 
112 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 read the widower s love-letter by the circum 
 stantial evidence of a little whiff of cigar 
 ashes which tumbled out as she picked it 
 up) he had helped himself to the $500 
 bond, comfortably let himself out of the front 
 door ; and that was all. 
 
 " Did you lock the drawer ? " asked Mary. 
 
 " Why, yes. Don t you remember ? Here 
 is the key in my pocket." 
 
 " Did you lock the upper drawer ? " asked 
 Puelvir. 
 
 " I never thought of the upper drawer ! " 
 wailed Corona. 
 
 " And he just pulled it out, and tucked his 
 hand into the one below, and took that there 
 money out, and no trouble to nobody ! He 
 war n t even put to the onconvenience of 
 breakin a lock to git it ! " 
 
 " Exactly so. That is just what he did/ 
 assented Corona. 
 
 She laughed. The thing struck her so that 
 she could n t have helped it, if ifc had cost 
 her all she owned. She rolled over on the 
 sofa, and laughed till she cried. 
 
THE BURGLARY. 113 
 
 " She always takes trouble that way," said 
 Mary, without laughing. " Come away, Puel- 
 vir, and let us consult what it is best to do. 
 Don t you think I d better telegraph for Mr. 
 Sinuous ? " 
 
 But there was no doubt about it. The 
 Old Maid s Paradise, taken by a thief in the 
 night, had been ingeniously robbed ; and 
 that Fee-Fi-Fum and I. 0. U. registered bond, 
 leased by the X. Y. Z. and Yankosell, was 
 gone. 
 
 At this moment Puelvir came in to say that 
 the new horse was waiting outside for some 
 body to go to ride with him ; Zero was tryin 
 to make the critter eat an apple-tart and a 
 piece of cold tongue ; and that Mr. Thumb 
 was turnin in the gate, come for his ready 
 money. 
 
 " Take her back, if you want to, Mr. 
 Thumb. Take the Lady Betty back, and 
 keep her till you find out if I have any money 
 to pay you. You may feel better to do so." 
 
 " You mean, you think I would n t trust 
 8 
 
114 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 you with my horse, marm, long s you wanted 
 to keep her on trial, if you like her ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ; we would n t put it so. But 
 I m bankrupt to-day, you see. I can t give 
 you your ready money, as I said I would. If 
 I should never recover it, I don t see how 
 I m going to pay for the horse at all. I 
 never was robbed before. I cannot form 
 any plans." 
 
 "I calc lated," said Mr. Thumb, after a 
 silence, "I calc lated to leave the mare jest 
 where she is till you send her back to North 
 East Carriesquall." 
 
 " Oh, you 11 recover your bonds," said an 
 unfamiliar voice, with easy assurance. " Of 
 course you 11 recover your bond. It s too 
 thin not to be recovered." 
 
 Corona looked up in alarm. A strange 
 man stood in the parlor. He had entered by 
 the back door, strolled through the kitchen 
 and the dining-room without the least trace 
 of what could be called hesitation, and pushed 
 his way, unannounced, to the centre of that 
 
THE BURGLARY. 115 
 
 little group of burgled people. As he spoke, 
 he took an easy chair, and made himself at 
 home without the superfluity of an invitation. 
 After some thought, he removed his hat, with 
 the reluctance of a man who is not habitu 
 ally placed where he feels obliged to do so, 
 and glanced agreeably around him. 
 
 " Really," began Corona, " I have n t the 
 pleasure " 
 
 But Puelvir was before her. Puelvir made 
 one bound across the room, gripped the 
 stranger with both her powerful hands, and 
 before the ferocity of her intentions occurred 
 to anybody, shook the man (and he was a 
 big man, too) till his teeth chattered in his 
 head and his eyes glared from their sockets. 
 
 " Be you the feller ? " she demanded. 
 " Be you the burglar that burgled this here 
 house?" 
 
 " Why, my dear young woman " gasped 
 the stranger. 
 
 " I m not your dear young woman ! " re 
 torted Puelvir, virtuously. " I ain t nobody s 
 dear young woman. Never was. Never will 
 be. Be you the burg " 
 
116 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 " Look a here/ said the visitor, releasing 
 himself with a practiced thrust which sent 
 Puelvir sitting down hard upon the rejected 
 Sunday-school book and the widower s love- 
 letter, " I am the Fairharbor police." 
 
vn. 
 
 MR. PUSHETT. 
 
 " OH ! " said the mistress of the burgled 
 cottage, doubtfully, to the Fairharbor police 
 man. " We are very much obliged to you. 
 How did you know about it ? " 
 
 " Know about it ! " echoed the policeman. 
 " There ain t a lobster nor a stripped mackerel 
 in the city don t know about it by this time. 
 Know about it, I should say ! Why, it hap 
 pened as much as an hour ago, did n t it ? " 
 
 " It is just about an hour since we discov 
 ered our loss," replied Corona. Already she 
 perceived that it would be best to suppress 
 surprise at anything that might happen now 
 in any direction. The robbery had added this 
 contribution to her stock of worldly knowl 
 edge before she had left the room in which it 
 occurred. 
 
118 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 " Now/ began the policeman, immediately, 
 " show me the premises. My name, by the 
 way, is Pushett." 
 
 Corona meekly obeyed Mr. Pushett. He 
 was a very tall policeman, and he kept bump 
 ing his head against the low ceilings of the 
 Old Maid s Paradise, whose sheltered walls 
 had never known a guest like this before. 
 The policeman examined the two-foot win 
 dow j he pocketed the red pencil and piece 
 of tobacco ; he studied the squash-pie plate 
 with a professional manner for a long time ; 
 he gave close attention to the tomato dish. 
 He remarked, at intervals, that she would cer 
 tainly recover her bond. He said the red 
 pencil was a very important clew. He said 
 the pie-plate indicated that the chap had a 
 good appetite, and was fond of squash-pie ; 
 he said these were both excellent clews. He 
 did not value the tobacco so highly, because 
 so many gentlemen were smokers. He rum 
 maged the house thoroughly, up- stairs and 
 down. In reply to Corona s protest that the 
 burglar had n t been up-stairs, he asked her 
 
MR. PUSHETT. 119 
 
 how she knew ? He gave special attention 
 to the spare room, pleasantly stating that he 
 thought the fellow might have slept there. 
 He criticised the defenses of the doors and 
 windows, as being arranged by women-folks, 
 and all you could expect. He examined the 
 desk and the heap of papers ; he seemed in 
 terested in the widower s love - letter, and 
 advised Corona to put her insurance policy in 
 a safe place. 
 
 " Didn t lock the upper drawers, did you ?" 
 with a slow grin. " Made it easy as you 
 could for him, did n t you ? " 
 
 " I tried to," observed Corona, with some 
 spirit. 
 
 "That s right. They most always do," 
 replied the policeman. " One man I knew 
 took n put every dollar he was worth in a 
 safe in his house, and kept it there a year, 
 and he had n t any bolt to his front door, and 
 one night four masked men just took a nip 
 per and some crow-bars and turned the key 
 as easy as you d take a cork out of a homre- 
 opathy bottle, and took that safe out on the 
 
120 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 crow-bar and carried it into an empty lot 
 and blew it open, and made off with every 
 cent there was in it, and nobody the wiser till 
 
 morninV 
 
 " I hope the poor man recovered his prop 
 erty?" said Corona, eagerly, with that sud 
 den widening of the sympathy which comes 
 from experience. 
 
 " Well, n-no," admitted Mr. Pushett. " I 
 can t say he did recover anything in that 
 case. I believe it has never been found." 
 
 " Nor the burglars, either ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ! Nor the burglars either. In 
 that case." 
 
 Corona asked the policeman why he felt so 
 confident that the property would be recov 
 ered in her case. Oh ! this, he said, was a 
 very simple affair. This was altogether too 
 thin. All he d ask was one good clew, and 
 he would undertake to see the property back 
 inside of a month. This was very encourag 
 ing. And Corona and Mary thought Mr. 
 Pushett quite an agreeable policeman. 
 
 " I thought you said the tomayto dish was 
 a clew," sniffed Puelvir. 
 
MR. PUSHETT. 121 
 
 " It was the squash-pie plate," corrected 
 the policeman, with majesty. He and Puel- 
 vir did not get on at all. " I referred to the 
 pie-plate. It is an excellent clew so far as it 
 goes. It would be well to have something 
 more as you might say more illumina 
 tive. But these are professional matters, and 
 not easy to explain. Now, Madam," said Mr. 
 Pushett, waving Puelvir out of the subject, 
 and producing his note-book and pencil, with 
 an air of scholarly absorption. " I want the 
 details of this case, if you please ; all of em. 
 Name of the bond ? " 
 
 " Fee-Fi-Fum and I. 0. U.," replied Co 
 rona, promptly. She knew it by heart, 
 now, 
 
 " Past all doubting, truly, 
 A knowledge greater than loss could dim." 
 
 " The Fee-Fi-Fum and I. 0. U. $500 bond. 
 Registered. Leased by the X. Y. Z. and 
 Yanko " - 
 
 " Hold on a minute. That seems to be a 
 fourteen-barreled bond. Yanko 
 
 Sell ; X. Y. Z. and YankoseU. In Da- 
 
122 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 kota. Be sure you write in Dakota. It s 
 important to distinguish from the Yankosell 
 in New Mexico, which are fours, and mature 
 in 88." 
 
 66 Did I understand you this bond matures 
 in 88?" 
 
 " Oh, no ! It s the New Mexico bond that 
 matures in 88. It s a very important point." 
 
 " I don t see what that has to do with your 
 Fee-Fi-Fum," objected Mr. Pushett. 
 
 " Neither do I," said Corona, helplessly. 
 " I never did. But the broker told me it was 
 very important. I think you d better put it 
 down." So Mr. Pushett put it down. 
 
 " Mature in 88. Is that all ? No ? Fire 
 away, then. We have n t any time to lose. 
 A burglar might get to Canada by the time 
 a man got this bond recorded. No. 30,075. 
 Land Grant. First Mortgage. Non-Exempt. 
 Redeemable in 2000. I ve got so far. 2009. 
 Interest collected 1st January, at Behring s 
 Strait. Nine and three-tenths per cent. 
 There. You don t mean to say that s all ? 
 Discourages me a little. Any fellow who s 
 
MR. PUSHETT. 123 
 
 had the luck to get such a bond as that is 
 likely to be overtaken by old age or the gal 
 lows before he can read it. Now then/ pro 
 ceeded Mr. Pushett, " allow me to ask you 
 a few necessary professional questions. I 11 
 make em few as possible. Where did you 
 ladies sleep last night ? Sleep well ? Apt to 
 sleep well ? What kept you awake ? What 
 did you eat for supper ? Callers in the even 
 ing ? Who was they ? What was the ther 
 mometer on the piazza? What in your 
 room ? Was the clock wound up ? Had you 
 read the evening paper ? What train did 
 you take from Boston ? How many times 
 have you been to Boston this summer ? Are 
 you taxed in Fair harbor ? Are you on the 
 voting list ? What was the price agreed upon 
 for your house ? What are your views on 
 Prohibition ? Are you a woman suffragist ? 
 Why did you send your bond home by ex 
 press ? Which express ? Driver alone ? 
 Who was with him ? Did you do much 
 shopping in Boston ? Who s your broker ? 
 Where s your brother ? If you d voted at 
 
124 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 the last Presidential election, should you have 
 been a Mugwump ? What is your receipt for 
 sponge cake ? Did you notice which way 
 the wind blew last night ? Lost a paper of 
 tacks in the last local robbery ? Easily 
 scared ? Keep fire arms ? Many gentlemen 
 callers at your place ? Ain t keeping com 
 pany with anybody, are you ? Do you own 
 a dog ? " 
 
 This last question brought Matthew Laun- 
 celot to the foreground. Puelvir carried him 
 into the parlor in her arms. Matthew exhib 
 ited little interest in the family misfortunes. 
 He was still disgracefully sleepy. Puelvir 
 stood him up on all fours, and the dog 
 winked and blinked at the policeman and 
 toppled over and sat down gaping. He pre 
 sented at that moment as few of the points of 
 a reliable family watch-dog as any reasonable 
 mind could demand. 
 
 " Tan terrier, too," mused the policeman, 
 " and good breed. What s that the dog s 
 worry in between his paws ? " 
 
 Puelvir hastened to explain that it was a 
 
MR. PUSHETT. 125 
 
 piece of the pantaloons of the peddler of the 
 dog-food and scented soft soap. She told the 
 story from her point of view, with comments 
 and addenda ; but she told the story. The 
 policeman asked a question or two ; mused 
 for a moment or two ; then across his coun 
 tenance there passed a sudden professional 
 glow. He stooped over Matthew Launcelot 
 seductively, and tried to take away from him 
 the green-checked mouthful of woolen cloth. 
 But Matthew s jaws, with a dogged snarl, 
 closed upon the fingers of the defender of 
 the laws. They closed quickly and they 
 closed hard. Matthew s jaws could shut like 
 a patent self-closing safety-vault door. The 
 policeman withdrew his fingers with a mut 
 tered exclamation : 
 
 " Ma dam ! " he hesitated just a little 
 between the syllables while he tied his hand 
 kerchief about his bleeding hand. " You 
 have an excellent dog there. He s got your 
 clew. He has been drugged, tremendously 
 drugged ; dog-food, I should say ! I am sur 
 prised he is alive. The peddler was the thief. 
 
126 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 Soft soap, he said, did he ? The peddler is 
 the burglar, and that piece of pantaloon stuff 
 will track him down anywhere in North 
 America. Take care of your dog. He will 
 be needed as a witness. It is a very neat 
 case. You will certainly recover your prop 
 erty. I advise you to have some circulars 
 printed immediately. It won t cost you 
 much. Better have five hundred. We 11 
 distribute for you. I d offer a pretty tol 
 erable reward, if I was you. I 11 keep the 
 red pencil. I 11 thank you for that pie-plate ; 
 it had better be kept at the office. If any 
 of you ladies can separate that dog and the 
 peddler s remains, I 11 thank you for that. 
 We have an admirable chain of clews. Good 
 morning." 
 
 As soon as the policeman had gone, Corona 
 said she would act upon his advice, and im 
 mediately get the circulars printed, which 
 were not to cost anything, and which would 
 offer a tolerable reward. So she ordered the 
 Lady of Shalott (with Tom s buggy and the 
 second harness), to drive over to the printer s. 
 
MR. PUSHETT. 127 
 
 She said what a comfort it was to own a 
 horse, and Zero appeared at that moment at 
 the front door, with his hat on, to say that 
 the mare had lost a shoe off her sou by sou - 
 west hind foot, and all the rest was loose, 
 and she d got to go to the blacksmith s. 
 Zero thought it would take two hours, and 
 that the best way would be for him to ride 
 her over. 
 
 " I bet nobody 11 burgle this house to 
 night," said Puelvir, grimly, when her mistress 
 and the Lady of Shalott returned from the 
 printer s at six o clock that evening. " I ve 
 bought a pound more of long shingle nails. 
 I ve druv one in most everywhere a nail could 
 be drove. I ve got my fire up and three ket 
 tles bilin , and my hose on, and a row of 
 empty buckets setting alongside my bed. I m 
 ready for em." 
 
 In vain Corona protested that of all nights 
 in a lifetime this was the safest night in the 
 Old Maid s Paradise ; that she would leave 
 the doors open to-night, and all the windows, 
 without a tremor ; that no family on the face 
 
128 UURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 of the earth was safer than the family that 
 had just been robbed. Puelvir was firm. She 
 was almost frightened. Mary was altogether 
 so. Mary begged so hard for a man to sleep 
 in the house that Corona scornfully yielded 
 the point ; and old Father Morrison was towed 
 in, and tucked away on a sofa bed in the par 
 lor, where he snored all night till Paradise 
 shook, and Mary said if she lived till morn 
 ing she would go home to her husband, and 
 Corona could do as she pleased. 
 
 At eleven o clock that night there did, in 
 deed, an event occur which did not add to 
 the calm of the occasion. Some one knocked 
 thunderously at the back door. Mary shrieked. 
 Corona put her slippers on. Matthew Launce- 
 lot uttered a debilitated bark and sauntered 
 out to the door, wagging his tail hospitably. 
 Father Morrison slept through the disturb 
 ance quite peacefully. But Puelvir filled all 
 her water-pails, and dashed the contents of 
 three out of the window, without looking to 
 see if they hit. 
 
 At this point the intruder hastened to ex- 
 
MR. PUSHETT. 129 
 
 plain that it was only Mr. Pushett ; and if 
 the young woman and the dog would let 
 him alone long enough, he d like to see 
 the lady of the house on very important busi 
 ness. 
 
 " But I can t let you in," said Corona, 
 when she had hastened to the back door. 
 66 Puelvir has put so many shingle nails in 
 this door." 
 
 " I don t want to come in," whispered the 
 policeman through the key-hole. " I want 
 you to come out." 
 
 " Want me to come out ? " 
 
 " Yes ; I ve got a clew." 
 
 " But I can t get out ! " objected Corona. 
 " She said she put in a pound. It would take 
 me all night to draw them " 
 
 " Try the front door," suggested the offi 
 cer, not unnaturally. 
 
 " But the front door s nailed, too. I can t 
 get out there, either." 
 
 " I ve heard of burglar-proof houses," said 
 the policeman, " but a family-proof house I 
 never saw before. Calculate to stay in, do 
 
 9 
 
130 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 you ? Looks like it. Do you think you could 
 get out a window ? " 
 
 Corona replied that the lower windows were 
 all nailed, too. She suggested, however, that 
 she might climb over the piazza if she had a 
 tall step-ladder ; and Mr. Pushett replied that 
 he guessed he could help her ; it was dark ; 
 and she d better come. He added that he 
 could saw through the house anywhere in 
 twenty minutes and let her out ; but he was 
 in a hurry. 
 
 So Corona descended by the step-ladder 
 (she was a pretty good climber), and the offi 
 cer explained that he wanted her to ride seven 
 miles with him and see a man. He was con 
 fident he was on a clew. He thought he had 
 found the man. But he wanted her to iden 
 tify, before he arrested. It did not occur to 
 Corona to demur. Anything might happen 
 to a person who had been robbed of a 500 
 bond. So she and Mr. Pushett went over to 
 the barn and got the Lady of Shalott, and 
 drove away in the dark ; for the moon was 
 under a thunder-cloud. She noticed, as they 
 
MR. PUSHETT. 131 
 
 rode along, that the policeman dripped a good 
 deal, and he explained that one of that young 
 woman s water-buckets had hit him a little ; 
 he said she was rather too spirited a young 
 woman for his taste. 
 
 The Lady made excellent time, and took 
 her seven miles in forty-five minutes. Co 
 rona, as she and the policeman sped over the 
 lonely country, felt her heart warm toward 
 the pretty horse. It was depressing to think 
 that she might never be able to pay for her. 
 But Mr. Pushett assured her that he had as 
 good a clew as he ever got hold of in his pro 
 fessional life. He said all he wanted of her 
 was to look in a window at some fellows play 
 ing cards. 
 
 This sounded easy ; but Corona s heart 
 sank a little. She thought of what Mary said 
 about her unprotected life. She thought of 
 those other things Mary had said that night 
 when she came in looking like a Japanese 
 etching in the moonlight. But the police 
 man s shoulders were big, and Corona s pluck 
 was bigger. As she rode along on her un- 
 
132 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 usual errand, through that memorable mid 
 night, she reflected that, after all, if she had 
 any one to call on to track her own burglars 
 for her, he would probably be a very busy 
 person ; his rest would be more important 
 than hers ; and she should be perfectly 
 wretched if she could not do such a thing 
 herself and save him the trouble ; which, 
 possibly, she might not be allowed to do. 
 This consoled her so much that she was in 
 excellent spirits by the time they reached the 
 window through which Mr. Pushett wanted 
 her to look. 
 
 " You did n t tell me it was a grog-shop," 
 said Corona, drawing back for an instant. 
 
 " I 11 take care of you," said the officer, 
 curtly. So Corona and the policeman drew 
 near to the window and looked in. Four men 
 sat at a table, in the ill-favored place, gam 
 bling for whiskey. 
 
 " There ! " whispered the officer, breath 
 lessly. " Ain t that the feller ? That peaked 
 one, with the yellow goatee ? Ain t that the 
 peddler ? Just you look as you never looked 
 in your born days. Ain t that him ? " 
 
MR. PUSHETT. 133 
 
 " I never saw the man before in all my 
 life," whispered Corona. " He does n t look 
 any more like that peddler than he looks like 
 the Episcopal minister." The officer s face 
 fell over a precipice two hundred feet sheer. 
 Was she sure ? Take her oath to it ? She 
 must be mistaken. Would she take the 
 trouble to look again ? The clew 
 
 At this moment the man with the goatee 
 arose and shuffled to the outer door. He was 
 very drunk. The officer whisked Corona into 
 the buggy by one swift and mighty whisk ; and 
 they were driving quite leisurely by, when the 
 man appeared on the door-step. He sat down 
 stupidly for a minute, then staggered wretch 
 edly away ; there was n t much of him even 
 for a drunkard ; he was a poor, sunken, sod 
 den creature, soul and body. He reeled into 
 a miserable home near by. The officer drove 
 up softly and watched him. A woman in 
 a lank dress came out to meet the drunkard ; 
 she held a smoky kerosene-lamp above her 
 head, and looked at him ; a sick baby lay 
 upon the other arm, wailing fretfully. The 
 
134 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 woman said, " Joshuay, is that you ? " She 
 made no comment upon his condition ; she 
 was too used to it. He rolled in, and fell 
 over against her and down upon the floor ; 
 she looked at him apathetically, and then she 
 shut the door. 
 
 66 There is something wrong about this 
 clew/ said Corona. " Take me home, Mr. 
 Pushett." 
 
 And Mr. Pushett meekly took her home. 
 He was so disappointed that Corona felt quite 
 sorry for him. The thunder-storm had come 
 on, and it rained and lightened all the way 
 home. The mare was a good deal disturbed 
 at the whole adventure the matter not hav 
 ing been fully explained to her ; but she be 
 haved like a Lady-as-she-Ought, and Corona 
 reached her step-ladder soaked and safe, and 
 climbed back to bed, as much impressed with 
 Mi\ Pushett s energy as she was with his suc 
 cess. 
 
 In the morning she did not get up early, 
 having a headache, and Puelvir said she would 
 send her breakfast up to her. Corona no- 
 
MR. PUSHETT. 135 
 
 ticed that Puelvir did not say she would bring 
 the breakfast, but concluded it was one of 
 Puelvir s eccentricities. Corona was lying 
 half asleep, half awake, feeling that morn 
 ing a little unprotected, after all, and almost 
 lonely, for Mary had gone home to her 
 husband, as she said she should, when she 
 was startled by heavy groping foot-falls and 
 smothered exclamations that seemed to be 
 struggling for dear life with the breakfast- 
 tray up the narrow and unlighted stairs. Im 
 mediately a big, broad fellow loomed into 
 the room, smiling like a sun-flower across the 
 waiter, on which he had upset the coffee and 
 overturned the butter-pat into the berries and 
 cream, and straightway took her into his 
 arms, waiter, pillow, coffee, and all, as nobody 
 else in the world 
 
 Why, Tom ! Why, Tom ! " 
 
 " Did you think I d leave you in the 
 lurch ?" asked Tom, sitting down on the foot 
 of the bed to mop up a few little trout-brooks 
 of coffee that were rapidly changing the to 
 pography of the bed-spread. " I told Puelvir 
 
136 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 to let me bring your breakfast and surprise 
 you. She said you d take me for a burglar, 
 and shoot. I told her I d risk your hitting 
 anybody. I did n t think I should spill all 
 the coffee." 
 
 " But I thought you were in Canada ! Not 
 to come home for three weeks. This is three 
 days. You you you dear old you 
 Tom ! " 
 
 " Oh, yes," said Tom, carelessly ; " I was 
 in Canada. But I had an errand over in 
 Hoboken, so I saw it in the papers." 
 
 " 
 
 Why, certainly. Every newspaper east 
 of the Rocky Mountains is ringing with it. 
 They say there were five, and you shot two. 
 They say you lost $100,000 in Union Pacific 
 and Bell Telephone. They say you were 
 wounded in the lungs and hardly expected 
 to live. So I thought if it was so bad as 
 that, I d better stop over a train. I took the 
 sleeper. I ve got to go back by the 4 p. M. 
 express. I can stay, let me see, I can 
 stay two hours and a half." 
 
VIII. 
 
 THE STATE WILL PROTECT. 
 
 ALL Fairharbor was at her bloom. The 
 summer sun made mirrors of the soft gray 
 water; the summer people started on the 
 beach, like flowers in a huge parterre ; the 
 winds were laid, or low ; the moons burned 
 with a white fire, like the hearts of loving 
 women, and repeated themselves in the waves, 
 fair and unconscious, as love reflects itself in 
 deeds, and knows not that it does so. Pleas 
 ure boats, with colored sails, tinted by artists 
 astray, stole by upon the idle flood that made 
 a merry mock at them. Voices of singers on 
 the cliffs or on the water melted late down 
 the silver and the purple evenings, and sung 
 the soul to sleep with the power of old songs. 
 All the world was at play, or adream. Cares 
 were corked like the Genius in the bottle in 
 
138 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 the Arabian story ; anxieties and fears waited 
 as the frosts wait, biding their time ; but it 
 was not the time of summer in Fairharbor. 
 Sickness cheated itself with distraction. Sor 
 row drugged itself with the sound of the tides 
 that said : " Thou art but another wave in 
 the eternal sea." Hope fed itself upon the 
 stir of pleasure-seeking human pulses ; youth 
 tripped to the time of the wave-notes, and 
 love maddened itself with beauty ; for sum 
 mer was on Fairharbor. 
 
 But in the Old Maid s Paradise these 
 things served as a background to a preoc 
 cupied family. The business of life went re 
 morselessly on. Tom had crowded so much 
 advice and affection into those two hours and 
 a half that Corona resumed the duties of her 
 position as a burgled householder with ela 
 tion. Tom s main point was to assure her 
 that her bond was so certain to be recovered 
 that the only thing she had to do was to take 
 his check to Mr. Thumb and pay for the 
 Lady of Shalott, who, Tom admitted, was as 
 good a horse as he could have bought him- 
 
TUK STATE WILL PROTECT. 139 
 
 self. In fact, Tom said that the Lady was 
 worth more than she cost ? which was a grat 
 ification that nobody but an unprotected 
 woman horse-hunter could feel to the full. 
 Tom assured Corona that her registration 
 would bring back her bond if her robber 
 didn t, and made out his check to Mr. 
 Thumb s order with that masculine force of 
 will which makes it either necessary or impos 
 sible for a woman to yield a point. Corona s 
 hesitation was put by in a burly sort of way, 
 as if it were a thing of no more consequence 
 than a crochet-needle ; and before she knew 
 exactly what had happened, or why it hap 
 pened so, the Lady of Shalott became her 
 own. Tom managed so well in this matter 
 that it was months after, before it occurred 
 to Corona to wonder whether any doubt as to 
 the ultimate recovery of the property had 
 ever visited his mind. 
 
 Tom also assured her that she ought to 
 print some circulars. He told her he should 
 print a thousand if he were she. Everybody 
 told her to print circulars; and, as she fol- 
 
140 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 lowed all the advice she received at that time, 
 she was fast flooding the land with circulars. 
 But Tom said they did n t cost much. Co 
 rona pictured the peddler as hiding behind 
 hay-stacks and other points of rural scenery 
 to read the circulars. 
 
 Tom also advised her immediately to put 
 the thing in the hands of the State s District 
 Police ; he observed that the local police 
 might do very well by local affairs ; an d gave 
 vent to the daring inquiry : How did we 
 know it was a peddler ? Tom added that if 
 anything more occurred to him he would tel 
 egraph. The most adorable thing about 
 Tom was that he had never once laughed at 
 her for not locking the drawer above the 
 drawer that held the bond. Corona could 
 have worshiped him. She kissed him twice 
 and a half, when she drove him up to the 
 moving train, on the last platform of whose 
 last car he leaped like a leopard in cheviot 
 and a Derby, to return to Canada. 
 
 When Corona and the Lady of Shalott 
 came back from the station, Corona found 
 
THE STATE WILL PROTECT. 141 
 
 five strange men sitting in the Old Maid s 
 Paradise. The first one said he was a re 
 porter for the Boston Sunday " Solar Sys 
 tem/ and would be obliged to her for some 
 facts about the burglary. 
 
 Corona excused herself from the other four 
 gentlemen, and took the Boston Sunday 
 " Solar System " into the dining-room, and 
 received him with that abject helplessness 
 characteristic of the hitherto uninterviewed 
 American citizen. 
 
 The next gentleman said he was on the 
 staff of the Tewksbury " Daily Wild Fire," 
 and he had called for a few details of what 
 he considered the most blood-curdling rob 
 bery of the day. The third visitor repre 
 sented the New York " Billy ; " and the 
 fourth said he did the religious column in a 
 denominational weekly ; the fifth hoped she 
 would consider him unobtrusive, but he had 
 called for material for her biography, which 
 would appear in to-morrow morning s issue 
 of the Texas " Trapper." Corona s natural 
 and acquired civility served her very well 
 
142 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 through the struggle with the Boston " Solar 
 System ; " but the supply sank as she ran 
 the blockade of the others ; and by the 
 time she had come down to the Texan, she 
 had relapsed into a condition of aboriginal 
 combativeness. The results, as she afterward 
 learned, were closely proportional. 
 
 The Boston Sunday " Solar System " told 
 a thrilling tale of midnight horror, headed : 
 " A YOUNG LADY DISPERSES A GANG OF 
 BURGLARS," in which she figured as beauti 
 ful, rich, brave, and twenty. The Tewksbury 
 " Wild Fire " said she was tanned. The New 
 York " Billy " said the lady s courage in the 
 affair had been overrated. The denomina 
 tional weekly said she was heterodox. But 
 the Texas " Trapper " reported her as fifty- 
 seven years of age, and said she wore no 
 bangs. 
 
 Corona s next step led her to the Head 
 quarters of the State Police in search of her 
 property. She had a telegram from Tom the 
 morning she went, dated from Toronto, and 
 running : 
 
THE STATE WILL PROTECT. 143 
 
 " DEAR Sis, Wish I could do the whole 
 job for you." 
 
 Corona telegraphed back : 
 
 " DEAR BOY, Have my hand in, and 
 rather like it." 
 
 The Police Inspectors of her native State 
 received the lady courteously. She had never 
 visited such a place before, and found herself 
 a little excited by the abnormal nature of her 
 errand. The Inspectors did not seem excited 
 at all. They received the whole affair with a 
 calm amounting almost to what she felt re 
 sembled a lack of emotion upon the subject 
 of her loss. 
 
 There was an air of broad unconcern about 
 the State Headquarters, the atmosphere of 
 people so blase in burglary that Corona felt 
 a little mortified at never having had a bur 
 glary before. 
 
 " I have come," she said, humbly, " to put 
 the matter in your hands." 
 
 " Oh, certainly," replied the Inspector. 
 " We will take charge of your interests." 
 
 " It is a small sum," pleaded Corona, " but 
 large to me, you know." 
 
144 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 " Oh, certainly/ observed the Inspector. 
 " Naturally. Quite so." 
 
 The Inspector leaned back in his chair and 
 drummed upon the table with his finger tips ; 
 he played the long - forgotten national air 
 which concerned itself with the proposal to 
 hang a very gentlemanly sub-patriot to a sour 
 apple-tree. 
 
 " Can t you send a man down there to in 
 spect the premises ? " asked Corona, when 
 she had told the story in detail. " I under 
 stand the State is expected to look after these 
 things." 
 
 " Of course," replied the officer, loftily. 
 " The State will protect." 
 
 He gave this in the tone of a devout man 
 who says, The Lord will provide. 
 
 " The local police is energetic," faltered 
 the lady, " and he keeps thinking he has a 
 clew." " 
 
 The Inspector allowed himself a cosmo 
 politan smile ; his rather slender, unused fin 
 gers ceased to consign the sub-patriot to the 
 sour apple-tree. 
 
THE STATE WILL PROTECT. 145 
 
 " But I don t feel satisfied," continued 
 Corona, " to rest on that. I must depend 
 upon the State to do all that is possible for 
 the recovery of my property." 
 
 " To be sure," said the Inspector, dream 
 ily. " I see. Of course. I should think 
 the State would. I would if I was the State. 
 I would you excuse me, Madam I m 
 worn out to-day. We had a murder at the 
 South End last night, and I was up quite 
 late. We did n t find the murderer in that 
 case ; but we found a clew. But it kept me 
 pretty busy for a few hours, and would 
 you excuse me if I took a nap ? " 
 
 66 Oh, certainly," said Corona. " Pray do. 
 You must be tired." 
 
 So the Inspector leaned back in his chair, 
 and took a little nap ; and Corona sat and 
 watched him. 
 
 When the Inspector woke up he seemed 
 quite brisk. He began : 
 
 " Now, Madam, I will take the points in 
 this case. Give them slowly, so I can get 
 
 them all into my head." 
 
 10 
 
146 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 So Corona gave the points, as well as she 
 could, and as slowly. 
 
 " Your local police is on the wrong trail," 
 said the Inspector, frowning, when she had 
 finished. " The peddler had nothing to do 
 with it." 
 
 a Is it possible ? " cried Corona. " But 
 the dog " - 
 
 " The dog was drunk," said the Inspector. 
 " The clew is in an entirely different direc 
 tion. Give me the full address of the deaf 
 boy who is in your employ." 
 
 " Zero? Mr. Inspector, that is impossi 
 ble ! " 
 
 " All things are possible to the Power of 
 the State," answered the Inspector, with maj 
 esty. " I refer to the boy who asked how 
 much money you kept in the house." 
 
 " But you might as well refer to my guests 
 or my cook, in such a connection, as to that 
 poor little deaf, honest, stupid " 
 
 " It is not impossible that I might have to 
 refer to your guests or your cook," returned 
 the Inspector. " Worse things have been. 
 
THE STATE WILL PROTECT. 147 
 
 A clew must be followed wherever it leads, 
 Madam, like life or death. I am satisfied 1 
 have a clew. I will arrest the boy to-night." 
 
 " You will do nothing of the kind ! " cried 
 Corona. " I decline to prosecute. I decline 
 to have anything to do with it. I prefer to 
 lose my money to outraging my neighbors 
 by a course so devoid of the first principles 
 of common intelligence." 
 
 " Oh ! if you take it in that way," pro 
 tested the Inspector, " I really must have an 
 other nap. This is quite exhausting." 
 
 So the Inspector took another nap. When 
 he awoke he said he felt better. Corona 
 said she was glad to hear it. 
 
 "I have it ! " cried the Inspector suddenly, 
 with an expression almost amounting to 
 animation upon his peaceful countenance. 
 " You should print some circulars ! That 
 will certainly recover your bond. We will 
 try to assist you, of course, but your main 
 dependence is on your circulars." 
 
 Corona urged that she had already printed 
 circulars ; five hundred circulars to gratify 
 
148 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 Mr. Pushett ; one thousand circulars at the 
 advice of her brother. 
 
 " We advise you to print fifteen hundred 
 circulars/ said the Inspector. " They will 
 not cost you anything to speak of. What re 
 ward have you offered ? " 
 
 Corona hesitatingly replied that she had 
 offered two hundred dollars reward. 
 
 " Make it three," said the Inspector. 
 
 " The loss is only five/ suggested Corona. 
 But she made it three. 
 
 " When do you think I shall hear from 
 my bond ? " asked Corona, after a pause, in 
 which the Inspector gave so many symptoms 
 of going to sleep again that she felt obliged, 
 however reluctantly, to bring her personal in 
 terests once more to the notice of the State. 
 The Inspector roused himself and said : 
 
 66 1 beg your pardon ? " 
 
 Corona repeated her inquiry, and the In 
 spector said it was a very natural inquiry ; 
 he said he wished it were in his power to an 
 swer it ; he said they would certainly remem 
 ber the case ; he said, again, that the State 
 
THE STATE WILL PROTECT. 149 
 
 would protect. He went so far as to inti 
 mate that this was what the State was for. 
 This encouraged Corona so much that she 
 bade him good afternoon ; she could not 
 think of anything more to say, unless she 
 asked him once again whether he did n t 
 
 o 
 
 think he could send a man down to examine 
 the premises and the region where the rob 
 bery was committed ; but he said No, he 
 did n t think he could ; and then she wished 
 the Inspector pleasant dreams, and he thanked 
 her, and said he usually had em ; and then 
 she came away. 
 
 After Corona had thus thrown herself 
 upon the protection of the State, she remem 
 bered that Tom had advised her to visit the 
 office of the Fee-Fi-Fum and I. 0. U. Ac 
 cordingly she did so, stating her errand as 
 inoffensively as possible. The Fee-Fi-Fum 
 was a very imposing railroad. There was a 
 great deal of marble in its office. There was 
 a great deal more of majesty in its clerks. 
 Over marble and majesty Corona pushed her 
 errand, into the presence of the Thirteenth 
 
150 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 Assistant Vice-President, a gentlemanly young 
 man, who said he was sorry for her. Corona 
 thanked him, but said that she had come to 
 see about the duplication of her bond, which, 
 being registered, she had understood was 
 absolutely protected against fire, burglary, 
 and loss. The young man replied that, in 
 a sense, this was true ; in a sense, not. Co 
 rona begged to inquire in which sense it was 
 not true. 
 
 " We do not duplicate," returned the gen 
 tlemanly young man. " We never duplicate. 
 Our lawyer objects." 
 
 " How, then, asked the bondholder, am I 
 to get my money ? " 
 
 " In a sense" replied the young man, po 
 litely, " you don t get your money. Our law 
 yer is very strict about it." 
 
 " Who does get it, if I don t ? " asked the 
 lady, patiently. " The Railroad ? " 
 
 " Oh, dear, no ! " cried the young man. 
 " Of course not. I can t tell you exactly 
 who gets it. Our lawyer has never explained 
 to us." 
 
THE STATE WILL PROTECT. 151 
 
 " But the burglar cannot get it, can he ? " 
 asked Corona. 
 
 " Certainly not/ returned the Thirteenth 
 Assistant Vice-President, brightening. " The 
 burglar cannot get it. It will never be of any 
 use to the burglar. That is the advantage of 
 registration." 
 
 66 But I was told, when I bought my bond," 
 urged Corona, " that registration would pro 
 tect." 
 
 " I presume you were," said the young man, 
 courteously. " That seems to be the prevail 
 ing impression." 
 
 " And, of course, you understand," he 
 added, " that we will pay you your interest ; 
 it is only your principal which you do not 
 
 recover." 
 
 " That is something, at least." The bond 
 holder brightened. 
 
 "But you must first sign a little paper, you 
 know. We call it a bond of indemnity ; just 
 a little matter of form. I will show you a 
 copy. Here ! We require you to sign this 
 before we can pay you anything. Our law 
 yer is very particular about it." 
 
152 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 Corona read the bond of indemnity over 
 carefully, once twice. She laid it down 
 and rose to go. All the marble and majesty 
 had passed over now from the office of the 
 Fee-Fi-Fum and I. 0. U. to the face of the 
 bondholder. 
 
 " This paper/ said the bondholder, " re 
 quires me to expect nothing in case of for 
 gery " 
 
 " Certainly not. Our lawyer " 
 
 " In case of forgery by the lifting of fig 
 ures ; by the erasion of names with the use 
 of chemicals ; in case, I observe, of your own 
 inadvertence in paying my property over to 
 the wrong party " 
 
 " Of course, madam. We could not be 
 expected to guard you against our own in 
 advertence. That would be asking a great 
 deal." 
 
 " This paper also requires," continued Co 
 rona, " that I shall protect you in a law-suit, 
 if any such be brought against you, by an 
 innocent and victimized purchaser of the 
 bond. It requires me to subject myself, for 
 
THE STATE WILL PROTECT. 153 
 
 the value of a $500 bond, to indefinite pecu 
 niary risks call it $5,000, say - - some 
 pleasant morning ? Do I understand it cor 
 rectly ? " 
 
 " In a sense," said the officer of the Fee- 
 Fi-Fum, " you may be said to understand it. 
 It is a simple matter, you see. You sign 
 the paper. We pay you your $93 interest, 
 and " - 
 
 " I do not sign the paper," said Corona, 
 laying it down quietly. The officer of the 
 Fee-Fi-Fum looked surprised, even grieved. 
 
 " You will excuse me," repeated the lady, 
 " from signing your paper. May I ask, be 
 fore I bid you good-morning, in what you 
 consider that the value of registration does 
 consist ? " 
 
 " Why, I told you," urged the Thirteenth 
 Assistant Vice-President. " It renders the 
 property useless to the burglar." 
 
 " And protects the Railroad ? " asked Co 
 rona. 
 
 " Certainly, madam. And protects the Rail 
 road." 
 
154 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 " Thank you," said Corona. " I under 
 stand now. Those are the main points in 
 which registration is of interest to the bond 
 holder ? " 
 
 " I believe/ said the Thirteenth Assistant 
 Vice-President, " those are the main points." 
 
 On her way to the station, Corona dropped 
 in at Messrs. Jump & Jiggles , and mentioned 
 the substance of her interview in the office of 
 the Fee-Fi-Fum and I. 0. U. The brokers 
 were quite interested in the matter. Mr. 
 Jump said the Fee-Fi-Fum had the sharpest 
 lawyer in New England. Both Mr. Jump 
 and Mr. Jiggles told the bondholder that she 
 had done just right. Mr. Jiggles went so far 
 as to say that he would .see his money at 
 Behring s Strait before he would sign that sort 
 of a bond of indemnity. But Mr. Jiggles 
 was the nervous member of the firm. 
 
IX. 
 
 MESSRS. HIDE AND SEEK. 
 
 THE summer was wearing on. But that 
 Registered Bond No. 30,075 had not been 
 restored to Paradise. Freshets of circulars 
 poured over the land. The reward was grad 
 ually increased at about the rate of a dollar a 
 day. Tom telegraphed exorbitantly from dif 
 ferent points upon the map of North America. 
 Mr. Pushett called at the cottage, with a new 
 clew, from twice to three times a week. 
 Messrs. Jump & Jiggles sent a copy of some 
 advertisements once used by them in tracking 
 down a heavy theft from their private safe ; 
 but stated that, in that case, the money was 
 never recovered. The Fee-Fi-Fum wrote to 
 Corona that their lawyer would be happy to 
 explain to her that bond of indemnity. From 
 the headquarters of the State Force nothing 
 was received but a bill for printing circulars. 
 
156 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 It was in August that Tom telegraphed, 
 one pleasant evening, the two words, " Pri 
 vate Detective," 
 
 While Corona sat turning this message over 
 in her hand and in her mind, another, with 
 winged heels, flew fast upon it. The second 
 said : 
 
 " But be careful about confounding fel 
 ony." 
 
 " I don t see exactly what he means," said 
 Corona to Susy ; for Susy was visiting her 
 just then with the baby." 
 
 " I always know what he means," said 
 Susy. " Let me see the telegram. Con 
 founding felony. Confounding felony. What 
 is confounding felony ? " 
 
 " It must be a mistake," said Corona. 
 
 " Oh, no," said Susy. " Tom never makes 
 mistakes." 
 
 " It s that telegram company made the 
 mistake," observed Puelvir. " I never did 
 think much of a concern that would steal the 
 name of the Woman s Christian Union out 
 right that way." 
 
MESSRS. HIDE AND SEEK. 157 
 
 " Whoever made the mistake/ said Corona, 
 " I think Tom must have meant 6 compound 
 ing. I think I Ve heard the expression. I in 
 not clear what it means. I must ask Mr. 
 Pushett." 
 
 But Susy shook her head. She persisted 
 that confound was the natural and proper word 
 in that connection. She thought it might 
 have been confounded confounded fel 
 ony ; from what she knew of Tom s habits 
 of speech, she thought this quite possible. 
 Susy was very positive. She usually was. 
 And then the baby cried, the baby gen 
 erally did cry, and Susy said she wanted 
 Corona to take her to ride. Susy did not say, 
 but thought, that it was very inhospitable in 
 Corona that the Lady of Shalott had broken 
 her saddle-girth and that Zero had gone over 
 to the city to get it mended. Susy did say 
 that horse was always breaking something and 
 being mended ; and Corona replied that this 
 was quite true. Susy was having a delight 
 ful visit at the Old Maid s Paradise ; but you 
 never would have thought it. 
 
158 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 The next morning Corona took her sister- 
 in-law and her niece upon a drive ; and as 
 nothing broke but a buckle in the bridle, and 
 as the Lady did not cast a shoe, and did 
 not happen to get a great many stones into 
 her feet, and was not too warm, so that Co 
 rona felt at liberty to let her go, and was not 
 too cold, so it was not necessary to blanket 
 her, they had a charming drive, and returned 
 in excellent spirits. Corona was just waiting 
 to give the Lady of Shalott her piece of maple 
 sugar, and to remind Zero to look for rocks 
 in her feet, and be sure and wash her ankles, 
 and put on her duster, and hang up the har 
 ness, and not give her anything for half an 
 hour, and not to forget to w r et the oats, and 
 to remember the hay, and not to take any 
 body else s pail, and to look after the bed 
 ding, and to give her all the water she want 
 ed, and to shut the barn window where the 
 draught was, and dust the cushions, and wash 
 the wheels, and shake the mat, and dry the 
 sponges, and put the chamois in the sun, raid 
 pull the buggy in out of it, and shut the barn 
 
MESSRS. HIDE AND SEEK. 159 
 
 door, and come again at four o clock as 
 Corona was thus struggling with her daily du 
 ties as a lone woman who boarded a horse in 
 Fairharbor, Puelvir came out to tell her that 
 there was another man in the parlor, and sho 
 thought he was a widower or a book-agent ; 
 she could n t tell which. 
 
 But when Corona went into the house, she 
 found that he was a New York detective. He 
 introduced himself as representing the famous 
 firm of Hide & Seek, private detectives. He 
 admitted that he was Mr. Seek. He usually 
 sent a man ; but this case he considered a lit 
 tle out of the ordinary run. Her brother, he 
 said, had sent him ; he had requested them to 
 lose no time in giving her at least the oppor 
 tunity to put her affairs into their hands. 
 Mr. Seek had seen her brother for ten min 
 utes as he was passing through on his way to 
 somewhere. He produced a line of introduc 
 tion from Tom in proof of these assertions, and 
 Corona begged him to be seated. Mr. Seek 
 added that they had ten dollars a day and ex 
 penses. As nearly as he could make out, he 
 
160 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 should expect to recover her bond in about 
 five days after he once got at it. After a 
 little preliminary firing, Corona confided to 
 Mr. Seek that the State did not protect her, 
 that the Fee-Fi-Fum charged their law-suits 
 and their inadvertence to her, and that Mr. 
 Pushett woke her up nights. In short, she 
 said, she was now ready to do what she should 
 have done the day the robbery was committed, 
 to put herself unreservedly in the hands 
 of honorable private detectives, who could in 
 sure the return of her property for any pecu 
 niary consideration which the interest at stake 
 might justify her in paying. 
 
 So Mr. Seek took out his note-book and 
 pencil, as Mr. Pushett had done ; and he, in 
 his turn, called for the points of the case. 
 Corona was delighted with the exquisite agil 
 ity which marked the detective s movements. 
 They were in highly-organized contrast to the 
 crude energy of the local force or the sedative 
 benediction of State protection. The profes 
 sional detective had the " go " of a man who 
 charged by the comma, and to whom every 
 
MESSRS. HIDE AND SEEK. 161 
 
 interrogation point meant money. He said 
 it would be necessary to ask a few questions, 
 and he proceeded something in the following 
 manner, after begging the lady s pardon for 
 his precision of detail : 
 
 " Your name, if you please ? Maiden 
 name ? Where do you reside in the winter ? 
 Parents living ? Their name ? Name of Pa 
 ternal Grandfather ? Maternal Grandmoth 
 er ? Her maiden name ? Any consump 
 tion in your family? Insanity? Epilepsy? 
 Are you a Homoeopathist ? As a family, do 
 you have severe colds? Any of your folks 
 ever in prison ? Ever hung for anything ? 
 Are you quick-tempered ? How old are you ? 
 Where were you born ? Did you ever have 
 red hair ? False teeth ? What is your 
 height, if you please ? Blue eyes ? Have 
 you any occupation ? Do you drink coffee ? 
 Is it your intention to marry? How much 
 are you worth ? " 
 
 When the detective had put these questions, 
 with others of an equally comprehensive na 
 ture, he requested to see the servants of the 
 11 
 
162 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 family. Zero was first brought upon the scene. 
 The detective took the boy in with one pier 
 cing professional glance, then made a per 
 fectly unconscious and rather interesting ges 
 ture with the lead pencil, as if he canceled 
 that entry in the topic. He gave, however, 
 a few passing inquiries : 
 
 " Well, Zero, how long have you been in 
 the service of this lady ?" 
 
 " Hey ? " 
 
 " How long have you worked for this 
 lady f " 
 
 " Lady ? The horse s name s the Lady. 
 She calls her the Lady that Sold Out. I take 
 care of her. She s a good horse." 
 
 "Are you deaf?" 
 
 "Eh?" 
 
 " Deaf. Are you DEAF ? " 
 
 " No, I ain t deef . I m a little hard o 
 hearin ." 
 
 " Who was the person who asked you how 
 much money your employer kept " 
 
 "Hi?" 
 
 " Who was the person ? " etc., etc. 
 
MESSRS. HIDE AND SEEK. 163 
 
 " He warn t a person. He was a boy." 
 
 " What was his name ? " 
 
 " Hey ? Dunno. Never see him afore. 
 Never see him sence. He was a kind of long 
 boy. He don t belong in these parts. What ? 
 I did n t sense what you said. Hey ? " 
 
 " Where were you on the night of the rob 
 bery ? " 
 
 " Me ? I was to home, sleepin along of 
 my little brother." 
 
 "How did you spend the previous even- 
 
 o " 
 
 ing? 
 
 " Marm give me a Sunday-school lesson to 
 learn to my sister. I helped along of the 
 dishes first, and chopped the kindlinV 
 
 " Are you aware that you might have been 
 the subject of suspicion in this business ? " 
 
 "Hey?" 
 
 " Suspicion. Do you know you might " 
 
 " Fishin ? No, I ain t fishin these days. I 
 take care of her and her horse." 
 
 At this point the detective said that would 
 do, and requested to see the female domestic. 
 Puelvir came. She had her crimps on, and a 
 
164 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 fresh dress. She stood with her hands upon 
 her hips. She and the detective eyed each 
 other. The detective smiled slightly. But 
 Puelvir did not smile. 
 
 " Here I be ! " she began. " What do you 
 want of me ? " 
 
 " Your name, if agreeable to you." 
 
 " It s a very agreeable name to me. I was 
 christened Puella Virginia of a Christmas 
 Sunday in the Baptist meetin-house. Nor 
 I ve never seen any reason to change it, 
 nuther." 
 
 "Your age?" 
 
 " Be you the census-taker ? " 
 
 " I am anything that serves my purposes in 
 this business." 
 
 " The last one asked me how many children 
 there was in this house. I shut the door in 
 his face, and sent him about his business. 
 That one you hear cryin upstairs belongs 
 to her sister-in-law. It don t reside here, 
 thanks to mercy." 
 
 " You have forgotten to tell ine how old 
 you are." 
 
MESSRS. HIDE AND SEEK. 165 
 
 " Just fifteen come Janooary," said Puelvir, 
 grimly. 
 
 " How long do you purpose to remain in 
 the service of this lady ? " 
 
 " Long as she 11 have me." 
 
 " Are you attached to her service ? " 
 
 " I refused two for her in a year and six 
 months." 
 
 " Two what ? " 
 
 " Two widderers. (Never you mind, Miss 
 Corona ; I don t count the raspberry man 
 neither.") 
 
 " That peddler he was an old acquaint 
 ance of yours, I helieve ; was n t he ? Was 
 he an agreeable gentleman ? " 
 
 " What are you up to ? " said Puelvir, 
 sharply. 
 
 66 He said some polite things, perhaps, to 
 you. I should think he might. I was merely 
 inquiring " 
 
 " Men folks are most generally polite to me. 
 They hev to be." 
 
 " Especially in this case, when it was an old 
 friend, I think you said. Somebody whose 
 
166 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 acquaintance you formed last winter ? Wanted 
 to marry you, I dare say, if you had returned 
 his sentiments ? " 
 
 " Look a here ! " said Puelvir, slowly, in a 
 voice of concentrated passion ; all her gaunt, 
 faithful face seemed to draw back and square 
 off at the detective : " Do you mean do 
 you darst to mean to to come here with 
 the drippin s of a notion in the bottom of 
 your miser ble sneakin Noo York City soul, 
 that me and her burglars was on terms ? Do 
 you darst to figger it as I move in any sech 
 circle of society ? Do you darst to suppose 
 Lord have mercy on his soul ! " cried Puel- 
 vir, turning to her mistress with a motion 
 and expression which were so noble that they 
 could not fail of being beautiful. " What 
 do you suppose the poor critter does darst to 
 suppose ? Me me, Miss Corona, and 
 I ve been that fond of you. Well, there ! 
 Let the creetur go. He ain t wuth a tear, 
 not even where salt s so plenty as it is along 
 shore. I won t cry for him ; you don t catch 
 me. You poor creetur," added Puelvir, 
 
MESSRS. HIDE AND SEEK. 167 
 
 gently : " You re wuss than a census-taker. 
 You may go. I have n t nothin more to say 
 to you. You may go. I ve got some sass 
 to season. You 11 have to excuse me, sir. 
 Good-mornin ." 
 
 When the detective had finished his con 
 versations with Corona and Zero and Puelvir, 
 and had examined the premises carefully, and 
 had interviewed the expressman and Mr. Push- 
 ett, he expressed himself as perfectly satis 
 fied with his morning s work. He said it was 
 
 o 
 
 as clear a case as he ever had in his life. He 
 said all he wanted now was four days. He 
 expected to be able to put his finger on the 
 bond in four days. It was a beautiful case, 
 he said. The servants were not implicated ; 
 he had never thought the servants were impli 
 cated. This was the work of a professional 
 cracksman. What was more, Mr. Seek added, 
 with a certain pride in his tone, it was the 
 work of New York cracksmen. It was too 
 neat to be done anywhere else. They talk 
 about the culture of Boston ! It was all very 
 well ; but when you came to a thing of this 
 
168 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 kind, it could n t be compassed outside of 
 New York. It was the most beautiful piece 
 of work he had seen for some time. There 
 was a dexterity, a dare, a reticence about the 
 job, which, professionally speaking, excited 
 Mr. Seek s admiration. He worked himself 
 into such a glow upon the subject that Co 
 rona quite shared his enthusiasm. She be 
 gan to feel it something of an honor to have 
 been burgled by such highly-developed cracks 
 men ; and when Mr. Seek assured her that he 
 knew the fellow past all question, her excite 
 ment waxed rapidly. 
 
 " Beyond all doubt," said Mr. Seek, as he 
 rose to take his adieus, " the man who robbed 
 your house is Marcus Aurelius Bobbin a 
 notorious cracksman ; belongs to the second 
 story gang ; he s an expert ; I know him 
 well. Been in Sing-Sing three times, for 
 forgery, and other little matters. There is n t 
 a deeper fellow in the country ; his skill is 
 really something uncommon. If he is n t 
 drunk, I can put my finger on him to-mor- 
 vow evening. If he is n t here, he will be 
 
MESSRS. HIDE AND SEEK. 169 
 
 there or there, I know every saloon he vis 
 its ; every pal in his gang ; every indictment 
 that is hanging over his head. There are 
 four against him already. Your bond is in 
 the hands of his fence. I know his fence. 
 Or it is at his pawnbroker s. I know his 
 pawnbroker very well. I d raise the reward 
 a few dollars, if I was you. Perhaps I d 
 print a few more circulars. I d make it up 
 to two thousand. Give me a few hundred to 
 scatter as I go along. In case of any hitch 
 it would be a good thing. But I am certain 
 of my clew. I am confident Marcus Aure- 
 lius will come to terms. In point of fact, I 
 presume he is only waiting to hear from me. 
 He counts upon your taking any honor 
 able steps. You may expect to see your bond 
 within six days. I shall telegraph you as 
 soon as I see my man. It is a remarkably 
 neat case. I will keep you informed. You 
 will probably hear from me to-morrow night." 
 But Corona did not hear from the New 
 York detective to-morrow night, nor the next 
 
 O 
 
 night, nor the next. It lacked a little of a 
 
170 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 week from the day of his visit at Paradise, 
 when a letter was received from Mr. Seek, 
 which ran : 
 
 " OFFICE OF HIDE, SEEK & Co., 
 NEW YORK CITY. 
 
 " DEAR MADAM, Marcus Aurelius Bob 
 bin is committed for murder in the second 
 degree. As it seems he was in prison at the 
 date of the robbery, we find him able to 
 prove an alibi. We have now a better clew 
 than that. Have no doubt whatever that we 
 are on the right scent this time. Please send 
 by check, to order, forty dollars more by re 
 turn mail. It will be needed immediately. 
 Yours, etc., HIDE, SEEK & Co." 
 
 Days passed. Nights fled. The moon 
 waned. At intervals Corona heard from 
 Messrs. Hide & Seek. Usually it was by 
 telegraph ; collect dispatches. They were 
 always cheerful dispatches. Sometimes they 
 said : 
 
 " Must have fifty dollars to - morrow. 
 New dew." 
 
 Maddening messages like these dashed 
 
MESSRS. HIDE AND SEEK. 171 
 
 upon her, inevitably in the evening after the 
 last train had gone : 
 
 " Come to New York, or send agent. 
 Must consult with you" 
 
 Or, without a moment s warning, she found 
 herself plunged into an abyss like this : 
 
 " Send seventy-five dollars by telegraph. 
 Pawnbroker hedges. All goes well." 
 
 Ou vont les vieilles tunes ? Where go the 
 old clews ? Corona went so far as to wonder 
 sometimes ; but she never went any further. 
 Nothing went any further, except her check 
 book. She used up one and began another 
 in the ardent service of Messrs. Hide & Seek. 
 But neither Messrs. Hide & Seek, nor the 
 Protecting State, nor Mr. Pushett, nor time, 
 nor the burglars, nor the check-book, restored 
 to Paradise that Kegistered Bond of the Fee- 
 Fi-Fum and I. 0. U. 
 
JUDAS JOHNS. 
 
 AND still the summer fled. The nastur 
 tiums in the dory burst into a blaze outside 
 the cottage windows ; the ardent flowers 
 leaped up the little masts and caught each 
 other across the ropes of twine, and flung to 
 the light winds a sheet of gold. Where 
 once the old gray sail had perilously tossed 
 the weather-daring boat across the bar (for, 
 to put a sail on a dory, it is well known, is 
 to take one s life in one s hands) the yellow 
 flowers turned their burning faces to look 
 into sheltered windows, or leaned to neigh 
 bors children lifting up, or played tricks 
 with the restless horse, when she stood wait 
 ing too long for her driver, on the white-hot 
 mornings. The helpless boat had lost her 
 air of tugging at her anchor to get away ; 
 
JUDAS JOHNS. 173 
 
 she had settled to her lot, like gentle old age 
 to its fireside corner ; the storms had broken 
 and were past; the tide was stemmed, and 
 had set in. Here was the last haven for 
 the wave and the wind, the grass-blade and 
 the seed ; for the surf and the thunder, the 
 flowering of little thoughts and cares ; for 
 action and passion and courage, patience and 
 waiting and peace. The dory accepted its 
 fate like a lovable old man. 
 
 The summer fled ; too fast for the busy 
 feet that now would never overtake her ; too 
 fast for the heart distraught with cares she 
 
 O 
 
 would have none of. If Marcus Aurelius 
 Bobbin pined in prison, if Messrs. Hide & 
 Seek pranced after all the clews in New York 
 society, what is that (said summer in Fair- 
 harbor), what is that to me or thee ? 
 
 But never to the threshold of Paradise re 
 turned nay, not by so much as a registered 
 coupon that registered bond No. 30,075, 
 Fe-Fi-Fum and I. 0. U. 
 
 It was a warm afternoon in late August 
 when the event which it is the duty of this 
 
174 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 chapter to record took place. It took place, 
 like most of the others, in the gray parlor, 
 which was fast assuming to Corona s wearied 
 imagination the character of a penitentiary 
 or police-station ; she felt as if it would need 
 some immense moral or mental cologne- 
 sprinkler to deodorize from her gentle home 
 the odic forces which had invisibly wandered 
 thither with the magnetism of the strange 
 
 O O 
 
 visitants whom misfortune had imposed upon 
 her. She continued, at stray moments, to 
 think of what Mary said about her lonely 
 situation . 
 
 It was more lonely than usual just now. 
 Mary was traveling with her husband. Tom 
 had taken Susy and the baby to the Yellow 
 stone on what he called a little trip. Elf 
 was at Bar Harbor. All of the girls were 
 going somewhere, or busy somehow ; it was 
 one of the interludes when there was nobody 
 in particular to visit Paradise. Puelvir alone 
 stayed by her ; Puelvir and the summer 
 boarders, Matthew Launcelot and the Lady 
 of Shalott and Zero and the ocean. After 
 
JUDAS JOHNS. 175 
 
 all, how many ! Corona counted them on 
 her fingers, and took heart easily ; she al 
 ways did. 
 
 On this hot afternoon of which I speak, 
 she was sitting quite by herself in a cool 
 Wakefield chair, in the draught between the 
 open door and windows. The blinds were 
 closed, and the light in Jie room was dim. 
 It was so dim that, when a shadow fell across 
 it, she did not at first observe that some one 
 had entered the room, and was standing, 
 staring about. Immediately, however, she 
 saw, started, and sprang to her feet. This 
 was like no guest who had ever been seen in 
 Paradise ; thi^ was quite another thing. 
 
 When she sprang, the man sprang too ; 
 instinctively put his hand upon what may 
 have been his pistol-belt dropped it, and 
 recovered himself. 
 
 "I ll I ll not harm you," he said. 
 66 1 ve come on business." 
 
 "I will listen to your business," said Co 
 rona, quietly. 
 
 He was a pitiable looking man ; not very 
 
176 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 large, nor very strong-looking, nor very 
 young. Hidden deeds had carved ugly lines 
 in his weak face ; evil years had lighted fires 
 in his narrow eyes that smouldered with the 
 unconscious self-betrayal of vice ; he stooped, 
 and he had a cough, and his hands shook 
 like those of a person who had palsy hang 
 ing about him. He was not very .well clad, 
 and looked as if he might have been a drink 
 ing man. Take him all in all, he was not a 
 pleasant looking person. 
 
 After that first throb, Corona s heart beat 
 evenly ; she did not feel afraid of him some 
 how ; fear was not the word. Her emotions 
 pulsated from indignation to pity like the 
 pendulum of a delicate clock. 
 
 " Sit down," she said, " and explain your 
 errand. (Come here, Matthew Launcelot !) 
 I will hold the dog. (Be still, Matthew ! 
 Do not touch this person. I will take care 
 of myself. When I want you, I will tell 
 you. Sit still, sir.") 
 
 " He seems to be a spirited dog," objected 
 the stranger, discontentedly. " Those tan 
 
JUDAS JOHNS. 177 
 
 terriers are considered the best watch-dogs in 
 the world by those that have reason to 
 know, I believe. You 11 explain to him, 
 may be, that I don t mean any harm to any 
 body." 
 
 " Yes," said the lady. " I will explain it." 
 
 " I did n t know I d got a woman to deal 
 with," began the stranger, with embarrass 
 ment. " There was nothing but . initials 
 to the advertisement. Where s your hus 
 band ? " 
 
 " He is not here just now," replied Co 
 rona. 
 
 " Father ? " 
 
 No." 
 
 " Brother ? No man you could put hands 
 on ? I d rather deal with a man." 
 
 " Whoever has errands at this house must 
 deal with me." 
 
 " I suppose " the visitor hesitated "I 
 suppose you know what I ve come for ? " 
 
 " What have you come for ? " 
 
 " It s about I come on business about 
 your bond. I saw your advertisement and 
 
 12 
 
178 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 two of your circulars. You offered a reward 
 for the recovery of the bond." 
 
 " I did." 
 
 " Mean to pay it ? " 
 
 " Certainly. When the bond is restored 
 to me I shall pay whatever I have offered to 
 the restorer." 
 
 " Take your Bible oath to it ? " 
 
 " A lady s word is as good as her oath." 
 
 "Is it?" asked the fellow, with what 
 seemed like a touch of reality in his tone. 
 u I don t know much about ladies." 
 
 " I know where your property is/ ven 
 tured the guest, after an awkward silence. 
 " I could get it returned to you." 
 
 " Did you steal it ? " asked Corona, quietly. 
 " Are you the thief ? " 
 
 " So help me God ! No ! " 
 
 " I wonder if you do expect God to help 
 you ? " she asked, with a kind of distant in 
 tellectual curiosity. 
 
 Ma am?" 
 
 " Never mind. It seems to me that I 
 should need some other proof that you are 
 
JUDAS JOHNS. 170 
 
 not the thief, besides the very natural relig 
 ious feeling of dependence upon the Al 
 mighty which you express." 
 
 " Do you think I d be such a dummed 
 fool as to come here if I was ? " 
 
 This was the outcry of Nature, and Co 
 rona bowed to the argument. 
 
 " I suppose," she said, " you are what is 
 called a fence ? Is that it? 9 
 
 " Never you mind," said her visitor, sur 
 lily, " what I am. You advertise for your 
 lost property. You offer a reward. I see 
 your advertisement. I offer to return your 
 property. That is all that concerns you in 
 the business, anyhow." 
 
 " It might be, and might not be," returned 
 Corona. " I am not used to such business. 
 If I can recover my property honorably, I 
 shall be glad to do it. If I can t, I shall let 
 it go. Money is not the only thing to be 
 considered in such a question." 
 
 " Ma am ? " said the stranger again. 
 
 " You ain t rich, are you ? " he observed, 
 after looking about the little room. His eyes 
 
180 BURGLARS IN PARAD7SE. 
 
 wandered over the books and pictures with 
 dull interest, fell on the cotton-flannel up 
 holstery, and returned to the floor; where 
 they sank, it seemed from force of habit, like 
 something weighted, to drown in deep water. 
 
 " No, I am not rich. I sometimes wonder 
 how a man must feel to rob a woman." 
 
 " A cracksman is a busy man," observed 
 the caller. " People of their profession 
 have so many different interests, you know. 
 They re polite men, too. It s seldom they 
 hurt a lady if it comes to the worst ; they 11 
 go out of their way rather than to shoot a 
 lady. But about this bond. If you will let 
 me go home and consult with a friend of 
 mine I m out of money ; I wonder if you 
 could lend me enough to get to New York ? 
 No ? Oh ! well, it s of no consequence, and 
 then, if you will advertise in the New York 
 6 Corkscrew, and name the day and place, 
 and come on yourself, and say, So help you 
 God, you 11 act in good faith, and not men 
 tion the matter to anybody, and bring the 
 cash with you for the sum you offer, I - 
 
JUDAS JOHNS. 181 
 
 think I know a man who is acquainted 
 with a fellow who will on that occasion re 
 store your bond." 
 
 " What is your name ? " asked this unpro 
 tected woman at this juncture. 
 
 " You may call me what you please/ said 
 the " fence," looking heavily into his hat. 
 
 " Suppose I call you Judas Johns ? J5 
 
 " That will do as well as any name for 
 me," returned the man. " I don t know as 
 I have you a strong preference for the first 
 name you mention ? " 
 
 " It occurred to me at the moment ; that 
 is all," said the lady. 
 
 " My conditions are very simple," pleaded 
 the " fence," lifting his narrow eyes to her 
 serious, pale face. " It s a registered bond 
 and no mortal use to em except they get the 
 reward. I don t think you 11 have any trou 
 ble. You just do as I tell you, and adver 
 tise, and come on. You d be met at any 
 safe and respectable place you name, and no 
 harm could come to you." 
 
 " Why don t you come to me with my 
 property ? " asked the bondholder,, 
 
182 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 " Lord ! " cried the man, looking up. "I 
 would n t put myself in this position again 
 for the worth of the whole bond. Folkc 
 stared at me at your depot here. Your po 
 lice follered me. You d have thought some 
 thing ailed me." 
 
 " I don t know that I wonder/ remarked 
 Corona, looking the poor wretch over 
 
 " I don t know how I m going to get out 
 of it, either," querulously. " You re on a 
 branch, and I ve got to get back the way I 
 come. You don t catch me in this blarsted 
 town again, if I can see my way out of it. 
 Say. You won t make trouble for me, will 
 you ? I come in good faith. You 11 treat 
 me in good faith, won t you ? " 
 
 " Mr. Judas Johns," said Corona, in a low 
 voice, " you had better take the next train, 
 and go. I have nothing more to say to 
 you." 
 
 " You don t mean it ? " cried Judas Johns. 
 " Why, I could restore your property in a 
 week ! " 
 
 " When my property is restored to me, I 
 
JUDAS JOHNS. 183 
 
 shall receive it," said Corona, who had, be it 
 confessed, the vaguest idea whether she were 
 behaving like a heroine or a fool ; she had 
 nothing but blind instinct to guide her ; and 
 instinct said : " Stop here." 
 
 " I don t know what compounding felony 
 is," she added, " and very likely I should n t 
 know a felon if I saw him. But I prefer not 
 to pursue the matter, Mr. Judas Johns, in 
 the way you propose. The train leaves at 
 half -past five. It will take you an hour to 
 get over there." 
 
 " You ain t going to play any dodge on 
 me, are you ? " asked Judas Johns, turning 
 ghastly white. 
 
 " I could n t if I wanted to. The police 
 are three miles away, and I have no tele 
 phone. You could hide in the woods over 
 yonder a week, and nobody find you. No, 
 I do not think it my duty to trouble you any 
 further than to ask you to bring our inter 
 view to an end." 
 
 " I ain t the burglar, you know," urged 
 Judas Johns. " My business never has run in 
 
184 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 that line." He rose to go, glancing uneasily 
 about. 
 
 " I understand/ said Corona. Do what 
 she might, pity half slew indignation in her 
 soul, as she looked solemnly at the weak and 
 cringing figure that crawled away from her. 
 Judas Johns shook now, but not with palsy ; 
 and staggered, but not from drink. He was 
 the picture of fear. 
 
 " I ve had a fit of sickness," he said. " I 
 ain t very strong. I wish I was in New 
 York. I have n t enjoyed my visit to this 
 town. It s a Godforsaken country." 
 
 As Judas Johns halted on the steps of the 
 cottage to look up and down the street with 
 his long, furtive, anxious look, curiosity over 
 came stateliness in Corona, for that last mo 
 ment s chance, and she asked : 
 
 " Do you suppose, Mr. Johns, from your 
 general acquaintance with the world 
 have you any idea that the men who stole my 
 bond were the same that stole a paper of tacks 
 and a hatchet and so on in the neighborhood, 
 early in June ? " 
 
JUDAS JOHSS. 185 
 
 " What do you take em for ? " cried Mr. 
 Judas Johns. 
 
 " Then it was n t the same gang ? " 
 
 " Your job was done by the most accom 
 plished cracksman in the United States. Why, 
 he never touches anything below $500 ! " 
 
 " Was it the peddler ? " asked Corona, 
 breathlessly. But Mr. Johns made no reply. 
 He put his hat on, jammed it well over his 
 eyes, and moved away. 
 
 " And those clews all those clews ? " 
 ventured Corona. " The local police, and 
 the State police, and the private detective - 
 they all have clews, you know. Are none of 
 them " She stopped. 
 
 Mr. Judas Johns regarded her as straight 
 as a man with eyes so crooked could regard 
 a lady who had shown some sense in a trying 
 position. A stray smile crept across his un 
 holy features, the first and only one which she 
 had seen. 
 
 " You J ve treated me like a like a 
 lady," he said slowly. " I would n t spend any 
 more money if I was you," 
 
186 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 " You re sure you could n t advance me 
 passage-money to New York, are you ? " he 
 added, turning round when he had gone as 
 far as the clothes-post. 
 
 " Quite sure. But I will give you an omni 
 bus ticket a Fairharbor omnibus ticket to 
 the station, if you would like it." 
 
 Mr Johns replied that he should like it 
 very much, and Corona gave him an omnibus 
 ticket. 
 
 Matthew Launcelot up to this time had 
 remained unsubmissive, but a fixture in his 
 mistress s arms. At intervals he had inter 
 rupted her conversation with Mr. Judas Johns 
 by anguished growls and yawns of thwarted 
 ferocity ; now and then he struggled like the 
 moral law in the grasp of the Devil and all 
 his angels, in Corona s tender clutch. As 
 
 O 
 
 the visitor turned to go, and when he was 
 well past the doryful of nasturtiums, and down 
 the road, and through the gate, the dog gave 
 one unearthly yell, and, seeming to shriek his 
 soul and body out of Corona s arms sprang 
 from them, and off like a cannon-ball after 
 Mr. Judas Johns. 
 
JUDAS JOHNS. 187 
 
 " Matthew ! Matthew Launcelot ! Come 
 back ! Come here this minute, sir ! Oh ! 
 Puelvir, stop that dog ! Matthew Launcelot! 
 Oh, I would n t have had this happen ! Mat- 
 theio I PUELVIR ! " 
 
 " Have mercy upon ye ! " cried Puelvir, 
 running wildly about. " It s the burglar ! " 
 
 " It s not the burglar, Puelvir ! Stop the 
 dog ! Matthew Launcelot ! Don t you touch 
 that man ! " 
 
 " If it ain t t burglar, it s his first cou 
 sin on the mother s side ! " rebelled Puelvir. 
 " Don t you ask me to stop the dog for you, 
 Miss Corona ! " 
 
 The dog had leaped as far as the gate and 
 stood bristling ; at his mistress s voice he 
 turned his angry head ; Mr, Judas Johns, too 
 terrified to hurry, gave one beseeching glance 
 at Corona and stood still. The dog he could 
 kick into the Harbor ; but against the scene 
 he was powerless. The people on the beach 
 began to collect in groups and look idly up 
 the street. All the consequences forced them 
 selves through Corona s imagination in an 
 instant s diameter. 
 
188 BURGLARS ;N PARADISE. 
 
 " Matthew Launcelot, come here" she said, 
 in a terrible voice. The terrier looked at 
 her at Mr. Judas Johns and at her 
 again. All the while he was barking thun 
 derously. It was a duel between the dog and 
 the mistress. 
 
 " Matthew Launcelot, you have no business 
 to touch that person ! Come here, sir ! " 
 
 Matthew walked deliberately through the 
 gate, up the street a little way. 
 
 " Let him alone, sir ! Come here, sir. 
 Come here to me ! " 
 
 " Would n t, if I was him ! " said Puelvir, 
 virtuously. The dog looked back over his 
 shoulder. 
 
 " Come here, or I 11 I 11 have somebody 
 else beat you ! " called the mistress. 
 
 The dog hesitated, turned, and came slowly 
 back ; he was trembling with baffled rage ; 
 Corona patted him, but he did not kiss her. 
 Outraged respectability flashed from his fiery 
 eyes. A creature defeated in his own voca 
 tion a conscience called off its post of duty 
 by another conscience Matthew Launcelot 
 obeyed, because he was a dog. 
 
JUDAS JOHNS. 189 
 
 But he howled after the retreating figure 
 of Mr. Judas Johns, as it passed a weak 
 and dreary spectacle up the street, as if 
 the foundations of human civilization depend 
 ed upon the amount of noise that could bo 
 made before the wretched man had turned 
 the corner. 
 
XI. 
 
 WHAT IS CALLED FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 BUT still the summer took to herself her 
 scented wings; dipped them in the glowing 
 waves of the Harbor as she flitted over, and 
 lifted them dripping with the deeper colors 
 of the harvest days. For it was September 
 in Fairharbor ; and Paradise had abandoned 
 its search for the registered bond No. 30,075 
 of the Fee-Fi-Fum and I. 0. U. 
 
 A full account of the visit of Mr. Judas 
 Johns having passed from the lady to the 
 detectives, Messrs. Hide & Seek luminously 
 replied that if Judas Johns were not the cel 
 ebrated fence, Jib Handover, he was the still 
 more celebrated confidence man, Tib Come- 
 over. In either case she had been dealing 
 with a person highly accomplished in his de 
 partment, and had effected a dextrous escape 
 
WHAT IS CALLED FRIENDSHIP. 191 
 
 or a serious mistake, as she chose to regard it, 
 or as the event might prove. Messrs, Hide 
 & Seek intimated that she should have tele 
 phoned to themselves before she let the fellow 
 go ; and offered (if she would forward $62.50 
 more) to put their finger on him and inves 
 tigate his game. Messrs. Hide & Seek ob 
 served that now we had a clew that was worth 
 something, and were assured that she would 
 see her property back within thirty days. 
 Corona replied that she hoped she should ; 
 and that any clews which it were worth any 
 thing to anybody else to follow should have 
 her benedictions and her prayers, but that 
 her personal assistance must henceforth take 
 this more spiritual form. She urged that she 
 had now contributed as much to the support 
 of the detective system of the country as she 
 felt to be her quota, even from the most pa 
 triotic point of view ; the only thing lacking 
 to the completion of the situation was that 
 she had failed to pay Judas John s return ex 
 penses to New York. This, from an artistic 
 aspect, might be regretted. Messrs. Hide & 
 
192 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 Seek urged the matter a little. They went so 
 far as to say that it was a very interest 
 ing episode, and that Judas Johns might in 
 fact have really been in the state of health 
 and courage which he represented. Sickness 
 quelled those fellows easily ; and he had 
 put himself into a neat trap if things went 
 against him. On the other hand, if he was 
 playing the sympathy dodge, seeing he was 
 dealing with a lady nothing was more 
 likely it would be equally interesting to 
 settle the point. 
 
 Corona admitted that it was a very inter 
 esting point ; but added that the looming 
 architecture of the almshouse of her native 
 State was nearer to the leisure of her imagi 
 nation at the present time. Not a five-cent 
 nickel more should she amuse herself by en 
 gulfing in the abyss which yawned between a 
 burgled bondholder and his property,, The 
 burglar was welcome to her $500 Fee-Fi-Fum 
 and I. 0. U. He might retire from business 
 on the value of registration, live upon his 
 income, and become an innocent member of 
 society. 
 
WHAT IS CALLED FRIENDSHIP. 193 
 
 To this conclusion she had come ; and to 
 this she held. 
 
 When she told Puelvir so, Puelvir said it 
 was about time. She said they were nothing 
 but so many men folks, anyway ; and land ! 
 what could you expect? Did anybody ever 
 know a man to find anything, she d like to 
 know ? If it was his boot-buttoner or his 
 squash - hat, did n t he set till a woman 
 hunted of it up? It was n t in the breed, 
 Puelvir said: 
 
 Puelvir felt as though her mistress, after a 
 dissipated career, had returned to the bosom 
 of the family. She petted her and made 
 much of her, as of a prodigal in an advanced 
 stage of penitence. They were quite by 
 themselves in these days the two women, 
 with Matthew Launcelot, and the pretty 
 horse ; for it was September in Fairharbor. 
 
 The summer guests had gone with the wild 
 roses and the mosquitoes. Only a few saun- 
 terers remained to dot the beach with grace 
 ful outlines ; and these were they to whom 
 the love of the sea is a passion, not a friend- 
 is 
 
194 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 ship. In the deserted scenery " T. H. Trader, 
 Boxes and Shocks/ again became a promi 
 nent and interesting feature. The little gar 
 den-plots in front of the cottages lifted the 
 stray blossoms which had survived the botan 
 ical fact that flowers are not called upon to 
 grow on Cape Ann granite, and that all the 
 beds one makes wash off and trickle down, 
 and leave the seed and the ledge to fight it 
 out between them. What was properly called 
 " the garden " consisted now of one morning- 
 glory and one bachelor s button, and these 
 had a Septemberish look, as of a flower that 
 was feeling bilious but would not own it. 
 But the doryful of nasturtiums blazed brave 
 ly. The pads of the round leaves alone told 
 the tale of the dying year ; these were yel 
 lowing and paling ; a few tones behind the 
 blossom, like embroidery done in tints to 
 match. 
 
 It was lonely in Paradise ; but it was lovely 
 in Paradise ; there, as so often elsewhere, the 
 two came near to being the same thing. Co- 
 r pna ; after the agitations of the summer, sank 
 
WHAT IS CALLED FRIENDSHIP. 195 
 
 back upon the cushion of her solitude, and 
 drew a deep breath. Puelvir came often on 
 the little errands and deceptions of affection 
 to see if she wanted anything, or wanted to 
 want anything. 
 
 Matthew Launcelot jumped into her lap 
 without the form of an invitation, and sat 
 solid upon her portfolio or her book. If she 
 intimated that some other location or position 
 would assist her occupations, he kissed her. 
 The Lady of Shalott came faithfully to the 
 clothes-post every day ; and when she did n t 
 have to be shod, or there was n t a nut needed 
 in the buggy, or Zero did n t think she had 
 a cold, and had better not go out, Corona 
 drove down the deepening days, over and over 
 and through the shore, the downs, the woods 
 of Essex, and the distant beaches of the 
 Cape ; and, as she drove, she loved every wave 
 and pebble, and the attitude of every leaf, 
 the countenance of each horizon : and for 
 this, as for all loving, grew stronger and more 
 capacious for love. She grew very fond, too, 
 of the Lady. Who could help it ? She was 
 
196 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 as dainty and feminine a creature as ever 
 made her nine or ten miles an hour, and an 
 swered to the voice with a sensitiveness which 
 made the bit seem a rudeness and the whip 
 ruffianly. Corona would have undergone an 
 other burglary for her, if she could have af 
 forded it. But Matthew Launcelot had never 
 forgiven the Lady of Shalott. It was one of 
 the exciting incidents in this solitary life 
 where little events have so much more artistic 
 proportion to the prospective than larger ones 
 do to a crowded history to try and teach 
 Matthew Launcelot to go to ride. This he 
 would do only under what is delicately known 
 in asylums as " restraint," howling to high 
 heaven all the time. One day his protest 
 reached a climax that put an end to Corona s 
 educational efforts in that direction. As she 
 drove, holding the dog with a firm arm, and 
 the reins, watchful, with the fine senses of an 
 experienced driver, in one hand Matthew 
 Launcelot yelping as if he were having his 
 teeth extracted, and the Lady of Shalott, with 
 her head down, flying at a pretty pace up the 
 
WHAT IS CALLED FRIENDSHIP. 197 
 
 crowded street of the little town the dog, 
 with one mighty effort, released himself, 
 leaped over the dasher, and landed, shriek 
 ing murderously, directly upon the horse s 
 back. There was one black instant, one swift 
 struggle between horse and driver, a gath 
 ering of people, and rushing blindly to save 
 life ; but before hand could touch bridle, tho 
 Lady had reared, stopped, shivered a little, 
 planted her feet, looked over her shoulder, 
 regarded the terrier with a kind of scorn, and 
 proudly stood perfectly still till he jumped 
 off. She disdained to run for him. 
 
 After this, reconciliation between Matthew 
 and the Lady was considered as one of the 
 abandoned hopes of life ; and the only antag 
 onism in Corona s harmonious family circle 
 remained unadjusted. 
 
 It was lovely in Paradise ; it was lonely in 
 Paradise. In the cool mornings of the blue- 
 and - gold weather Corona held to her fireside 
 with Puelvir and the dog. In the yellow 
 noons and nothing could be better than the 
 September noons in Fairharbor - she basked 
 
198 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 upon tha rocks and the brown, dry grass 
 which crackled beneath her as she stirred lazi 
 ly below the staggering sun umbrella to turn 
 the page that flapped against the rising wind. 
 
 Nothing could be better than the September 
 noons unless it were the September moons. 
 Then there seemed to arise upon the world 
 another flood, as of the waters that were above 
 the waters. 
 
 In the glamour the ocean lifted itself to 
 meet that other sea. Silent sails glided across 
 the Harbor, like thoughts too timid to be 
 spoken. As one looked at them from the 
 shore, and watched them melt into the long 
 shadow of the opposite coast, they seemed 
 like something precious and wasted. As one 
 looked from them into the water, the depths 
 seemed to be sucking down pearls, tossed by 
 the prodigal moon, one guessed not why; 
 and lost, one knew not where. 
 
 It was on a night of this sort that the in 
 cident which I have now to relate, for history s 
 sacred sake, took place at the Old Maid s 
 Paradise. It was a warm night ; one of the 
 
WHAT IS CALLED FRIENDSHIP. 199 
 
 warmest that September hoards for her lovers, 
 and lavishes in outbursts of tenderness that 
 the soul remembers. 
 
 Corona was in the hammock on the piazza, 
 swinging idly there alone ; a scarlet shawl 
 hung over her dress of thick white flannel, and 
 was regarded with disfavor by Matthew Laun- 
 celot ; for the fringe tickled his ears. Now 
 and then Corona patted the dog absently, with 
 that manner which seems to say, You are 
 better than nobody ! and which a sensitive 
 dog will resent as well as a sensitive man. 
 Puelvir had gone to a prayer-meeting, on the 
 ground that she felt as if she should like to 
 go and set somewhere and sing alto. The 
 empty house was quite dark; and Corona s 
 figure in the white foreground seemed to ab 
 sorb a disproportionate amount of light. She 
 lay so still that she looked as if she were 
 carved there a statue of Solitude, content 
 and sweet. 
 
 When footsteps hit the crisp grass and 
 touched the lower step, she stirred, but did 
 not start. 
 
200 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 When a face unseen for God knew how 
 long ! flashed full before her in the great 
 breadth and extent of light, she did not cry 
 out nor spring. To a depth below all that 
 - to such a depth as astonishment might 
 strike in the world that comes after this 
 she was let down, down, down ; and then her 
 soul stood still. 
 
 " You ! " she said. " You ? " And that 
 was all. 
 
 " You look just as you used to look," he 
 said immediately, in his old candid, blunt 
 fashion. " You have not changed." 
 " Are you sure ? " 
 
 " I am sure of nothing. I wished to see 
 you it is a good many years. May I come 
 up there ? Don t move." 
 
 " It is a good many years." 
 
 " Don t get out of the hammock. I like 
 to see you there. You have not altered. I 
 thought you would have aged. I have." 
 
 Yes ; I see. You look ill." 
 
 " I am not ill, but I am worn out. I have 
 had care and trouble. My daughter died in 
 July." 
 
WHAT IS CALLED FRIENDSHIP. 201 
 
 " Oh ! I did not know. It must have f ol- 
 lowed"- 
 
 " Yes ; she wore herself into this, taking 
 so much care and all that nursing. I could 
 not prevent it. Her mother s sickness was a 
 painful one. It cost two lives." 
 
 Corona, after a moment s hesitation, held 
 out her hand quite in silence ; words could 
 not have carried what it seemed idle to call 
 sympathy, and yet what she could call noth 
 ing else. He took her hand with evident 
 gratitude ; that trifling sign seemed to receive 
 him ; he drew a chair beside her hammock 
 and sat there, unbidden, looking down. 
 
 " I am coining to Fairharbor to stay for a 
 few weeks at the hotel if I may," he be 
 gan again. 
 
 " Fairharbor does not belong to me." 
 
 " I thought it did. But I will not stay if 
 it be objectionable to you. I don t wish to 
 intrude on you. I never did. You know 
 that." 
 
 " How could it matter to me ? " said the 
 woman, quietly. She glanced at her empty 
 
202 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 house, at the lonely shore ; she did not look 
 at her old friend. 
 
 " That is a characteristic answer. I sup 
 pose it may be this time an honest one. 
 I am honest, too. I came down here worn 
 out, as I tell you. I wanted rest, and the 
 ocean. When I got here I found you were 
 here. So I came to see you. This is the 
 truth." 
 
 "Is it?" 
 
 " The holy and the whole. Do you mind 
 having me for a neighbor for a while ? " 
 
 " I don t know w r hether I do, or not. It 
 had not entered into my plans for the season. 
 . . . I m sorry for you, though ! You are 
 in affliction. You show it." 
 
 " You are just the same as ever ! " he broke 
 out in a ringing voice. " You have n t 
 changed either for worse or for better. You 
 have kept all those ways you had " 
 
 He laughed a little ; in the nervous, half- 
 boyish manner of a lonely man who has been 
 traveling some time, and is glad to have some 
 body to laugh with, or even to laugh at. 
 
WHAT IS CALLED FRIENDSHIP. 203 
 
 This laugh seemed to surprise Corona. At 
 first she frowned at it ; then, before she knew 
 what she was doing, she had shared it. The 
 laugh cleared the atmosphere somehow ; laugh 
 ter, like tears, can be a powerful conductor ; 
 and Corona, rising to lift herself upon one 
 arm in the hammock, looked straight into 
 his face. 
 
 " Will you tell me what it is you want ? " 
 
 " A neighbor a comrade ; gentleness ; 
 and to be understood," he said, eagerly ; not 
 in the paltry tone of a man who would pro 
 tect himself, but in that of one who fears lest 
 he should overstep, " perhaps to sit on your 
 piazza now and then. I shan t bother you. 
 There might even be something I could do 
 some service. Is n t there some tinkering 
 about your house some odds and ends that 
 a man But I suppose you have learned to 
 do all these things for yourself." 
 
 " I have learned to do a good deal for 
 myself." 
 
 " You always did. You began so. But I 
 would n t be in your way, you know." 
 
204 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 " I suppose/ said Corona, slipping to her 
 feet, and lifting "her serious eyes again to 
 his, as the two stood so near and so sepa 
 rate, in the grave approach of their middle 
 life I suppose you refer to what is called 
 friendship." 
 
XII. 
 
 RECEIPTED BILLS. 
 
 " SOMETHING of that kind, I suppose," he 
 said. 
 
 " At our age/ he added, " people ought to 
 be able to get on." 
 
 " I am sorry for you," she repeated. " You 
 are a bereaved man. It is my nature to be 
 very sorry. But I had not thought of mak 
 ing new friends." 
 
 " A new friend ! Pretty old one, Corona. 
 Have you forgotten ? " 
 
 The woman gave him an inscrutable look. 
 
 " In middle life," she said, " memory is 
 always a selection." 
 
 " I know we did n t get on then," he 
 urged, " but " 
 
 " Whose fault was that ? " she flashed. 
 
 " Was it mine ? " he cried. 
 
206 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 " Was it mine ? " she demanded. 
 
 They separated, walked the length of the 
 piazza, and returned, and stopped beside each 
 other ; both showed agitation ; but the woman 
 not a symptom of tenderness. It was he who 
 renewed the duel. 
 
 " I only asked the place of a neighbor 
 and a friend : old or new, as you choose ; 
 the sense of not troubling any one ; the 
 knowing that I was welcome ; and not to be 
 always running against the thorns in your 
 fragrance." 
 
 " You always talked about my thorns ! 
 You told me I was like that Indian tree whose 
 flowers were so so beautiful ; but a man 
 tore his heart out before he could gather 
 them. That was one of your pointed speeches. 
 You made several." 
 
 " I thought it was you who said those 
 things. You have n t lost the faculty, I see. 
 . . . How you look in that white stuff in the 
 white light ; and how red that shawl is ! I 
 don t see that you have grown older in the 
 face by one day or night, since we used to 
 battle so." 
 
RECEIPTED BILLS. 207 
 
 " We always quarreled. We always shall. 
 Don t let us try anything of any kind any 
 more. Let the old gunpowder and the 
 old wounds go where all old emotions go. 
 I have lived without your friendship, sir, a 
 good many years ! " 
 
 " I have learned to do without it/ she 
 added. 
 
 "Are you sure you could n t learn to do 
 with it ? " 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 " We are not the same. We are different 
 people. Our lives lie between us. You have 
 become a widower ; and I, an old maid." 
 
 She said these words as if she laid down a 
 finality in the classification of species ; a set 
 of terms beyond which evolution ceased. He 
 smiled ; but she did not. 
 
 " It was you who did it ! " he said, below 
 his breath. 
 
 She made him no reply. 
 
 " You could do it, too ! " 
 
 " And you could go out West and marry ! " 
 
 " I am a man," he said. 
 
208 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 " And I a woman." 
 
 66 You told me I was a friend with one let 
 ter left out. It was the second letter too. Do 
 you remember that ? " 
 
 " And you told me there was an antago 
 nism between us. You said I kept it up." 
 
 " And you told me you d rather I had 
 been drowned yachting that summer than to 
 have lived to say something or other I said to 
 you one morning." 
 
 " I remember that. I meant it, too." 
 
 " I don t doubt you did. You meant them 
 all. You were the loveliest woman I ever 
 knew and the cruelest ! " 
 
 " I was young, then/ said Corona, in a 
 lower voice. 
 
 " We are both of us older," he said, more 
 gently. 
 
 " Puelvir is coming home," said Corona, 
 after a pause. " She will be shocked to find 
 me talking with a gentleman so late. There 
 is not a soul in the house, you know. She will 
 think she ought to bring her knitting-work 
 and sit on the piazza with us." 
 
RECEIPTED BILLS. 209 
 
 " Puelvir ? She is perhaps your cha- 
 perone ? " 
 
 "Puelvir is my cook. We live together 
 by ourselves. I am very fond of her. She 
 makes me quite happy." 
 
 " Ask Puelvir if I may come over and see 
 you to-morrow ; will you ? " 
 
 " Just as a neighbor ? " 
 
 " Just as a neighbor." 
 
 " And what you call a friend ? " 
 
 Yes. What I call a friend." 
 
 " Not to quarrel or be terrible, as you used 
 to be?" 
 
 " To be different, as I have learned to be, 
 Corona. But whether we quarrel that s 
 for you to say. It always was." 
 
 " There you go again ! We shall come 
 to the bayonet s point in five minutes. I m 
 afraid it s in us. I m afraid we can t help it. 
 And, you see, I ve learned so well, so very 
 well, how to live without you." 
 
 " But you 11 ask Puelvir, won t you ? 
 There d be no harm in asking ; would 
 there ? " 
 
210 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 " N-n-no," said Corona, slowly. " Perhaps 
 not. I will ask Puelvir." 
 
 It was a matter of keen surprise to Corona 
 who, as may be remembered, had long 
 since ceased to expect things to find that a 
 neighbor made a difference. Absolutely it 
 did make a difference in life. To stir in the 
 morning, turning the opening eyes upon the 
 rising tide, and remember that something was 
 going to happen to-day this was a strange 
 matter. To lock the doors at night how 
 much later than she was used need not be 
 specified and shut herself in by the moon 
 lit windows, and watch the water ebb, as 
 thought was ebbing after flood, and say, "- 1 
 have had a pleasure to-day," or, " I shall have 
 another to-morrow," this, in Paradise, was 
 a novelty. To be watched as she moved 
 about on little errands, to be understood in 
 trifling things, to have small wishes respected 
 or even forestalled ; to share a drive, a walk, 
 a poem, tea, a full moon, a high tide, a letter, 
 or an anxiety to this grave and quiet com 
 radeship our sunny-hearted old maid adapted 
 
RECEIPTED BILLS. 211 
 
 herself with the calm content of one who 
 wished for nothing more than this ; and who 
 had so long lived on infinitely less that she 
 could readily lay it all down again when the 
 time came, and fall back upon her appren 
 ticeship of solitude, as people whose health 
 fails in a higher avocation fall back upon a 
 trade learned and stored away in the brain 
 cells long ago. 
 
 Nothing was more amazing than to see the 
 stir that a man made in this later Paradise. 
 Did the woman in that other make more ? 
 It was a discovery to Corona that a man could 
 be put to so many intelligible uses. It seemed 
 incredible that a lock could be tinkered, a 
 slat mended, a blind hung, a loose nut discov 
 ered in an axle without riding six miles and 
 paying two dollars to achieve these high do 
 mestic ends. The mysteries of shoeing and 
 shorts assumed now a clearness amounting 
 to the commonplace. It was no longer found 
 necessary to keep the oat-barrel in the pantry 
 because the horse eat it up nights in the barn ; 
 methods of solving this problem evolved them- 
 
212 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 selves, one knew not how. Even that deli 
 cately balanced question, the precise length 
 at which you could teach Zero to tie a halter 
 so that the Lady could lie down if she want 
 ed to, and yet not break her leg if she did n t 
 want to, was disposed of with what seemed 
 to be superhuman ease. So strange, and 
 never the less strange, it grew, to have a man 
 in Paradise. 
 
 To Puelvir the novelty presented what we 
 are accustomed to call the other side of a 
 question. Puelvir was not happy. Between 
 the guest and the serving-maid existed a fixed 
 lack of sympathy, such as was accepted be 
 tween Matthew Launcelot and the Lady of 
 Shalott. One evening, when they were lock 
 ing the house at the abandoned hour of half- 
 past ten, Puelvir said, stiffly, to her mis 
 tress, 
 
 " I turned off the raspberry man for you." 
 " Dear me, Puelvir ! What can you possibly 
 
 95 j 
 
 Corona turned her laughing face, in which 
 the passing youth had been captured in these 
 
RECEIPTED BILLS. 213 
 
 pleasant days it was amazing how young 
 she could look ! Corona turned her bright 
 eyes upon the sober, faithful creature to 
 whom " what is called friendship " had not 
 happened. 
 
 " I mean what I say/ said Puelvir, looking 
 gray. " And them two widderers besides. I 
 never thought it of you, Miss Corona, that 
 you d go back on me ! " 
 
 Puelvir wiped two strange, big tears from 
 her gaunt cheeks. She said no more. She 
 felt that she had exhausted the deepest sub 
 ject of her life. 
 
 " Puelvir ! Come here, Puelvir ! Do you 
 think did you suppose have you imag 
 ined " - 
 
 " My folks give me common senses when I 
 was borned to em. There hain t no lunatics 
 in our fambly ; nor half-witted ones, neither. 
 We ain t eddicated, but we ken learn oar 
 multiplication table. Some of us got so far 
 as the spellin -book." 
 
 " But, Puelvir, upon my word of honor, I 
 have not once thought of such a thing ; I am 
 
214 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 not it is too late for that, Puelvir. I have 
 no intentions in that direction, whatever. I 
 like my way of life better as I am. Even 
 if I did n t, the man does n t live who could 
 part me from you, Puelvir. You Ve stood by 
 me you ve made my lonely home a comfort 
 to me. You might have known I would ap 
 preciate it." 
 
 " I never done it to be appreciated/ beamed 
 Puelvir. She wiped her eyes and took to her 
 dusting vigorously. Her homely face shone. 
 
 " You must understand the case, Puelvir. 
 This gentleman is nothing but an old friend. 
 He will never be anything else to me. I can t 
 help being kind to him, Puelvir ; for he is in 
 such trouble " 
 
 " Think so ! " said Puelvir. " Acts like 
 
 it!" 
 
 " And he is such a very old friend " 
 " Hm-m-m-m ! " said Puelvir, solemnly. 
 " So that s what you call a friend is it ? 
 You d ought to know your own business. It 
 ain t my place to free my mind ; I know it 
 ain t. I don t move in the upper classes, nor 
 
RECEIPTED BILLS. 215 
 
 I never did. But among my kind of folks 
 we call it keepin company. Lord bless 
 you, Miss Corona, anyhow/ added Puelvir. 
 a Call the creetur what you like. T ain t no 
 odds to me what name you give him, so 
 long s he don t part us and amuses you. He 
 might as well make himself useful someways. 
 I don t doubt it s the first time in his life ; 
 you ken tell him I said so, if you want to." 
 
 He did make himself useful, in particular 
 about that burglary. With such masculine 
 vigor did he approve of Corona s determina 
 tion not to pursue the search for her prop 
 erty that he effectually crushed w r hatever re 
 capitulation of her decision Messrs. Hide & 
 Seek or feminine frailty may have suggested. 
 
 " Stop where you are," he said. " Stop 
 just here. It is like spiritualism or faro. 
 You will be drawn on by the invisible delusion 
 of the game, if you suffer it. You have done 
 the sensible thing. Now stick to it. Let me 
 see your bills for this affair, may I ? Suppose 
 we go over it together." 
 
 Corona had her lap full of bills ; receipted 
 
216 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 bills ; a frowning pile, built since the bur 
 glary. With a merry laugh, she tossed them 
 over. How amusing was care, with some one 
 on the sofa to make light of it ! 
 
 He took the bills, ran his eye over them, 
 took out his note-book and stylograph, and 
 quickly did a sum in addition ; whose items 
 he read aloud to Corona as follows : 
 
 For printing circulars $27 55 
 
 Postage 4 50 
 
 Travel of police 18 72 
 
 Detectives 225 
 
 Travel of police 2 35 
 
 Advertising 83 25 
 
 Agent to New York 50 00 
 
 Omnibus ticket to Judas Johns .... 25 
 
 Telegraphing 5 10 
 
 Travel and sundries . 65 27 
 
 Total $482 
 
 " It is a pity," said Corona, after a pause. 
 "Can t we make it up to $500 any way in 
 the world?" 
 
 " I m afraid not. I Ve tried. It is a 
 pity." 
 
RECEIPTED BILLS. 217 
 
 " I see but one course open to me/ said 
 Corona, brightening. " I must give a party. 
 I must give a party to Mr. Pushett and those 
 gentlemanly persons on the State force, and 
 Mr. Hide and Seek, and oh ! Mr. Judas 
 Johns, and the officers of the Fee-Fi-Fum 
 and I. 0. U. I must invite all my fellow- 
 creatures who have so nobly contributed to 
 the recovery of my property. That would 
 easily bring it up to $500, don t you think ? 
 We might call it The Detective Detected/ 
 or some other of those fashionable titles. It 
 would be a pleasant domestic scene." 
 
 " I 11 churn the ice-cream for you. May 
 I ? You don t know what ice-cream I can 
 make. I put a little pepper in it." 
 
 They looked at each other merrily, laugh 
 ing at their protoplasmic wit, as contented 
 people laugh at little things. 
 
 " On the whole," said Corona, " there is 
 an obstacle. My guests would all have to 
 have their traveling expenses paid, I suppose. 
 That goes without saying. At the last mo 
 ment some of them would telephone : Send 
 
218 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 $75 more, and I 11 come. I m afraid it 
 would mount up. And over $500 I don t 
 see my way to go. I think we must aban 
 don the party." 
 
 She gathered up all her bills, and filed 
 them away in silence. He sat and watched 
 her. 
 
 " I wish," he said at last, in one of those 
 tentative tones which might pass for jest or 
 earnest, as the speaker chose, or as the hearer 
 decreed " there is one other bill I wish I 
 could see receipted in full. I suppose you 
 think you have one against me ? I wish you 
 did n t. But I m afraid you do." 
 
 She made no answer to him just at that 
 moment. She felt choked. How should he 
 understand ? How could he ? No man who 
 could have let it all happen as it had could 
 understand. Deeper than ever delusion 
 sounded, she knew this; for then, for now, 
 and for all time. 
 
 Through her musings, as she sat there 
 silent still for what had she to say ? 
 there ran in characters fantastic the items of 
 
RECEIPTED BILLS. 219 
 
 that other account, kept in the ledger of a 
 woman s heart, by the stern book-keeper, 
 Time, who makes no false entry, and accred 
 its or discredits to the fraction of the bitter 
 or the blessed truth : 
 
 to Dr. 
 
 For putting a woman where she could not speak for 
 herself. 
 
 For not comprehending what she did n t say 
 
 For believing what she did. 
 
 For her suffering more than he was worth. 
 
 For her not minding whether he was worth it, or 
 not. 
 
 For fifteen years of separation. 
 
 For her living alone till she had rather live alone. 
 
 For sundries which cannot be recorded, and should 
 n t, if they could. 
 
 Received payment in full, . 
 
 "No, no!" cried the woman. "No! It 
 can never be done." 
 
 " I begin to see it all a little differently," 
 he urged, gently. " I don t say that I did n t 
 make mistakes. I should like In your 
 book-keeping, Corona, are not old debts out 
 lawed, sometimes ? " 
 
220 BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 
 
 She smiled, and shook her head ; and then 
 she shook her head, and smiled again. They 
 would be good friends, she said ; that was 
 much to be ; but for that other record, turn 
 the page, and speak of it no more. 
 
 He spoke of it no more ; at least, not then. 
 He was grateful to be her neighbor, her com 
 rade, and to serve her as he could. By that 
 ancient ladder, the golden ladder on which 
 the angels of trust and sympathy ascend to 
 human hearts by the old, old ladder of 
 Friendship, had the most dangerous house 
 breaker of all climbed up to Paradise ? 
 
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