Poor Jack

"Why, yes, marm," replied my father; "the King maintains me, and my wife maintains herself; so, as you say, we have a separate maintenance."

"Well, that's the best way when married people don't agree. What are you laughing at, Mr. Jack? did I hint that your father and mother ever had any little matrimonial differences? I certainly did hear that there was a trifling dispute when they last parted; but when they bring me such tales I always cut them short. Here's your pigtail, Mr. Saunders," continued the widow, laughing, as she put the tobacco on the counter.

I looked at my father, who did not seem to relish the hint, but he answered very frankly, "If you cut them as short as my wife cut mine, why, then you won't be troubled with them any more. I see, marm, you know all about it, and you may have your laugh if it pleases you; but I can tell you that my tail has done me better sarvice since it was off than when it hung down my back."

"Become useful, instead of ornamental, I presume, Mr. Saunders."

"Just made this difference—when it was on it made my wife's tongue to go; now it is off, it has stopped it."

"An extraordinary powerful instrument, to stop a woman's tongue!"

"Well, you've only to ax Mistress Saunders, she'll tell you all its virtues."

"Well, Mr. Saunders, I don't know whether you have any idea of taking another wife some future day. If so, say nothing about it, or you'll never get one."

"Well, marm—I don't know whether you ever think of taking another husband; but if so, I think it would be kind on my part to lend it to him. Can you tell me why widows' tongues run so much faster than other women's?"

"Mercy! what put that idea in your head, Mr. Saunders?"

"You, and half a dozen more that I happen to know. May I make so bold as to ask you, marm, how long you may have been a widow?" continued my father.

"Bless me! so long that I quite forget all about it," replied Mrs. St. Felix, turning away from the counter to the jars behind.

I gave my father a wink to let him know that it was his turn now: he understood me, hitched up his waistband and nodded.

"How did you lose your first husband, marm? What did he die of?"

The widow colored, and my father perceiving it, followed up his question.

"Did he die of a fever, marm?"

"I'm not exactly sure," replied she, hurriedly.

"May I ask how long it is since he died?" continued my father.

"Oh! Mr. Saunders," replied the widow, confusedly, "I really don't recollect just now. It's very painful to answer such questions."

"Not if you've been a widow so long that you forget all about it; that's all sham and nonsense. So you ain't sure what he died of, nor when it was that he died? Are you quite sure, marm, that your husband is dead?"

Mrs. St. Felix started, turned very red, and then very pale.

"My sarvice to you for the present, marm," said my father, after a pause, taking off his hat. "I suspect that I've found a way to stop your tongue as well as my wife's. Broadside for broadside, that's fair play."

So saying, my father stumped away out of the shop door. Mrs. St. Felix put her apron up to her eyes, with her elbows resting on the counter. I waited a little, and then I said, "What is the matter, Mrs. St. Felix?"

She started at my voice.

"You here, Jack? I thought you had gone out with your father. Well," continued she, wiping her eyes, "it serves me right. I forgot that in amusing myself I annoyed him. Jack, don't you mention anything about this. Do you think your father will?"

"I don't think he will, for he cannot do so without talking about having his pigtail cut off, and I know he cannot bear to think of it."

"Well, then, pray don't you, that's a good boy."

"I never will, I promise you."

"Then, good-night, Jack; you must leave me now, I don't feel quite well."

I wished the widow good-night, and went back to my mother's house. My father was there, but he never hinted at the conversation which had taken place, neither at that time nor afterward.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Showing how Old Nanny fell Sick and got Well again

Before I fell asleep that night I thought a great deal of what had passed between the widow St. Felix and my father. Why should she have shown such emotion, and why should she request of me not to mention what had passed? I had heard reports about her, as I have before mentioned; I had heard them from old Nanny, but I did not put any confidence in what she said. Thinking of old Nanny reminded me that I had not called upon her for some time, and I resolved that I would visit her the next day.

It was not until late in the evening that I could spare time to call upon her, and, what was not usual, I went empty-handed. I found to my surprise that the door was shut to, and the shutters of the shop not taken down. I tried the latch, the door opened, and I went in.

"Who's there?" screamed old Nanny from the inner room. "What do you want?"

"It's only Poor Jack, mother," replied I, "come to see how you are."

"Come in," replied she; "I'm very bad. Oh! oh! I thought it was some thief or another come to steal all the things in my shop."

I entered the room and found old Nanny in bed; she looked very ill and miserable, and everything was very dirty.

"Are you not well, mother?" said I.

"Well, boy? No, very ill, very ill indeed, haven't left my bed these three days. Reach me a little water, Jack, there's a good boy. I've been dying for water."

I handed her a broken jug which had some water in it. She drank greedily, so as to spill nearly half of it on the coverlid.

"Oh, how good it is!" exclaimed the old woman, as soon as she recovered her breath. "I'm better now. I could not reach it myself. I've the rheumatiz so bad! I've been in such a fright because I could not lock the door; it kept me awake all night long. Oh, my poor back!"

"But why did you not send for the doctor, mother?"

"Doctor! Eh? who's to pay him? I've got no money, Jack."

"Well, but Dr. Tadpole's very kind."

"Yes, yes, kind to the widow; but not to old women like me, without any money."

"But why not have some one to sit up with you, and help you?"

"Sit up with me! Who'd sit up with me? Yes, if I paid them. But I've no money, Jack; and then, I don't know them. They might rob me—there's a great many pretty things in my shop."

"But you might die, mother, lying here without any one to help you."

"Die! Well, and who would care if a poor old woman like me died, Jack?"