"May I have the pleasure of seeing you home?" said Wilkins, twirling his mustache with a "resist me if you can" smile on his lips.
"Don"t let me interfere," said I, dryly, and was about to turn away.
"Thank you, Mr. Wilkins," replied Araminta, "but Mr. Smithers has already asked me."
It was a beautiful, lovely, sweet lie. I hadn"t done anything of the sort, but I"d meant to, of course, and perhaps Araminta had become a mind reader. Wilkins got a little flushy around his cheek-bones, and posted off to Fiametta, but she and Burnham were already en route and apparently reconciled. So it went with all. Wilkins was left. Even my sister, who, lacking Wilkins, would have to walk home with the minister"s wife, declined, and the fall of the great man was complete.
Mary Brown was the only one remaining in the field, and when he fled to her she said she wasn"t going home.
"Well, then," said Wilkins, "let me take you to wherever you are going?"
"Thank you," returned Miss Brown, "I"m not going there either," and she joined Araminta and myself, much to our delight, for we have no secrets from her. And then it all came out.
The girls had not loved us less, or Wilkins more, but they had resolved to keep Lent with unusual rigor this year.
_They had sworn us off and taken up Wilkins for penance_.
Hard on Wilkins?
Not a bit of it. He"s as conscious of his rect.i.tude and as unconscious of his unpopularity as ever.
Only he is a little more outspoken about women than he used to be, and somehow or other he has let it creep out that he "doesn"t find them interesting."
"They can"t even learn to dance without tripping a fellow up," says he.
THE MAYOR"S LAMPS
The serpent had crept into Eden. The Perkins household for ten years had been little less than Paradise to its inmates, and then in a single night the reptile of political ambition had dragged his slimy length through those happy door-posts and now sat grinning indecently at the inscription over the library mantel, a ribbon mosaic bearing the sentiment "Here Dwells Content" let into the tiles thereof.
How it ever happened no man knoweth, but happen it did. Thaddeus Perkins was s.n.a.t.c.hed from the arms of Peace and plunged headlong into the jaws of Political Warfare.
"They want me because they think I"m strong," he pleaded, in extenuation of his acceptance of the nomination for Mayor of his town.
"But you ought to know better," returned Mrs. Perkins, failing to realize what possible misconstruction her lord and master might put upon the answer. "The idea of your meddling in politics when you"ve got twice as much work as you can do already! I think it"s awful!"
"I didn"t seek it," he said, after hesitating a moment; "they"ve--they"ve thrust it on me." Then he tried to be funny. "With me, public office is a public thrust."
"Is there any salary?" asked Mrs. Perkins, treating the jest with the contempt it merited.
"No," said Thaddeus. "Not a cent; but--"
"Not a cent!" cried Mrs. Perkins. "And you are going to give up all your career, or at least two years of it, and probably the best two years of your life, for--"
"Glory," said Thaddeus.
"Glory! Humph," said Mrs. Perkins, "I am not aware that nations are talking of previous Mayors of Dumfries Corners. Mr. Jiggers"s name is not a household word outside of this city, is it?"
Mr. Jiggers was the gentleman, into whose shoes Thaddeus was seeking to place his feet--the inc.u.mbent of the mighty office to which he aspired.
"Who is the present Lord Mayor of London?" the lady continued.
"Haven"t the slightest idea," murmured the standard-bearer of the Democratic party, hopelessly.
"Or Berlin, or Peking--or even of Chicago?" she went on.
"What has that got to do with it?" retorted the worm, turning a trifle.
"You spoke of glory--the glory of being Mayor of Dumfries Corners, a city of 30,000 inhabitants. This is going to send your name echoing from sea to sea, reverberating through Europe, and thundering down through the ages to come; and yet you admit that the glories of the Mayors of London with 4,000,000 souls, of Berlin, Chicago, and Peking, with millions more, are so slight that you can"t remember their names--or even to have heard them, for that matter. Really, Thaddeus, I am surprised at you. What you expect to get out of this besides nervous prostration I must confess I cannot see."
"Lamps," said Thaddeus, clutching like a drowning man at the one emolument of the coveted office.
Mrs. Perkins gazed at her husband anxiously. The answer was so unexpected and seemingly so absurd that she for a moment feared he had lost his mind. The notion that two years" service in so important an office as that of Mayor of Dumfries Corners received as its sole reward nothing but lamps was to her mind impossible.
"Is--is there anything the matter with you, dear?" she asked, placing her hand on his brow. "You don"t seem feverish."
"Feverish?" snapped the leader of his party. "Who said anything about my being feverish?"
"n.o.body, Teddy dear; but what you said about lamps made me think--made me think your mind was wandering a trifle."
"Oh--that!" laughed Perkins. "No, indeed--it"s true. They always give the Mayor a pair of lamps. Some of them are very swell, too. You know those wrought-iron standards that Mr. Berkeley has in front of his place?"
"The ones at the driveway entrance, on the bowlders?"
"Yes."
"They"re beauties. I"ve always admired those lamps very much."
"Well--they are the rewards of Mr. Berkeley"s political virtue. I paid for them, and so did all the rest of the tax-payers. They are his Mayor"s lamps, and if I"m elected I"ll have a pair just like them, if I want them like that."
"Oh, I do hope you"ll get in, Teddy," said the little woman, anxiously, after a reflective pause. "They"d look stunning on our gate-posts."
"I don"t think I shall have them there," said Thaddeus. "Jiggers has the right idea, seems to me--he"s put "em on the newel-posts of his front porch steps."
"I don"t suppose they"d give us the money and let us buy one handsome cloisonne lamp from Tiffany"s, would they?" Mrs. Perkins asked.
"A cloisonne lamp on a gate-post?" laughed Perkins.
"Of course not," rejoined the lady. "You know I didn"t mean any such thing. I saw a perfectly beautiful lamp in Tiffany"s last Wednesday, and it would go so well in the parlor--"
"That wouldn"t be possible, my dear," said Thaddeus, still smiling.
"You don"t quite catch the idea of those lamps. They"re sort of like the red, white, and blue lights in a drug-store window in intention. They are put up to show the public that that is where a political prescription for the body politic may be compounded. The public is responsible for the bills, and the public expects to use what little light can be extracted from them."
"Then all this generosity on the public"s part is--"
"Merely that of the Indian who gives and takes back," said Thaddeus.