Whether or not the episode of the dog had diverted Mr. Harum’s mind from his previous topic, he did not resume it until John ventured to remind him of it, with “You were saying something about the surprise for your wife.”
“That’s so,” said David. “Yes, wa’al, when I went home that night I stopped into a mil’nery store, an’ after I’d stood ’round a minute, a girl come up an’ ast me if she c’d show me anythin’.
“ ‘I want to buy a bunnit,’ I says, an’ she kind o’ laughed. ‘No,’ I says, ‘it ain’t fer me, it’s fer a lady,’ I says; an’ then we both laughed.
“ ‘What sort of a bunnit do you want?’ she says.
“ ‘Wa’al, I dunno,’ I says, ‘this is the fust time I ever done anythin’ in the bunnit line.’ So she went over to a glass case an’ took one out an’ held it up, turnin’ it ’round on her hand.
“ ‘Wa’al,’ I says, ‘I guess it’s putty enough fur ’s it goes, but the’ don’t seem to be much of anythin’ to it. Hain’t you got somethin’ a little bit bigger an’—’
“ ‘Showier?’ she says. ‘How is this?’ she says, doin’ the same trick with another.
“ ‘Wa’al,’ I says, ‘that looks more like it, but I had an idee that the A1, trible-extry fine article had more traps on’t, an’ most any one might have on either one o’ them you’ve showed me an’ not attrac’ no attention at all. You needn’t mind expense,’ I says.
“ ‘Oh, very well,’ she says, ‘I guess I know what you want,’ an’ goes over to another case an’ fetches out another bunnit twice as big as either the others, an’ with more notions on’t than you c’d shake a stick at—flowers, an’ gard’n stuff, an’ fruit, an’ glass beads, an’ feathers, an’ all that, till you couldn’t see what they was fixed on to. She took holt on’t with both hands, the girl did, an’ put it onto her head, an’ kind o’ smiled an’ turned ’round slow so ’t I c’d git a gen’ral view on’t.
“ ‘Style all right?’ I says.
“ ‘The very best of its kind,’ she says.
“ ‘How ’bout the kind?’ I says.
“ ‘The very best of its style,’ she says.”
John laughed outright. David looked at him for a moment with a doubtful grin.
“She was a slick one, wa’n’t she?” he said. “What a hoss trader she would ’a’ made. I didn’t ketch on at the time, but I rec’lected afterward. Wa’al,” he resumed, after this brief digression, “ ‘how much is it?’ I says.
“ ‘Fifteen dollars,’ she says.
“ ‘What?’ I says. ‘Scat my ⸻! I c’d buy head rigging enough to last me ten years fer that.’
“ ‘We couldn’t sell it for less,’ she says.
“ ‘S’posin’ the lady ’t I’m buyin’ it fer don’t jest like it,’ I says, ‘can you alter it or swap somethin’ else for it?’
“ ‘Cert’nly, within a reasonable time,’ she says.
“ ‘Wa’al, all right,’ I says, ‘do her up.’ An’ so she wrapped the thing ’round with soft paper an’ put it in a box, an’ I paid for’t an’ moseyed along up home, feelin’ that ev’ry man, woman, an’ child had their eyes on my parcel, but thinkin’ how tickled my wife would be.”
XXXIX
The road they were on was a favorite drive with the two men, and at the point where they had now arrived David always halted for a look back and down upon the scene below them—to the south, beyond the intervening fields, bright with maturing crops, lay the village; to the west the blue lake, winding its length like a broad river, and the river itself a silver ribbon, till it was lost beneath the southern hills.
Neither spoke. For a few minutes John took in the scene with the pleasure it always afforded him, and then glanced at his companion, who usually had some comment to make upon anything which stirred his admiration or interest. He was gazing, not at the landscape, but apparently at the top of the dashboard. “Ho, hum,” he said, straightening the reins, with a “clk” to the horses, and they drove along for a while in silence—so long, in fact, that our friend, while aware that the elder man did not usually abandon a topic until he had “had his say out,” was moved to suggest a continuance of the narrative which had been rather abruptly broken off, and in which he had become considerably interested.
“Was your wife pleased?” he asked at last.
“Where was I?” asked the other in return.
“You were on your way home with your purchase,” was the reply.
“Oh, yes,” Mr. Harum resumed. “It was a little after tea time when I got to the house, an’ I thought prob’ly I’d find her in the settin’ room waitin’ fer me; but she wa’n’t, an’ I went up to the bedroom to find her, feelin’ a little less sure o’ things. She was settin’ lookin’ out o’ winder when I come in, an’ when I spoke to her she didn’t give me no answer except to say, lookin’ up at the clock, ‘What’s kept ye like this?’
“ ‘Little matter o’ bus’nis,’ I says, lookin’ as smilin’ ’s I knew how, an’ holdin’ the box behind me.
“ ‘What you got there?’ she says, slewin’ her head ’round to git a sight at it.
“ ‘Little matter o’ bus’nis,’ I says agin, bringin’ the box to the front an’ feelin’ my face straighten out ’s if you’d run a flat iron over it. She seen the name on the paper.
“ ‘You ben spendin’ your time there, have ye?’ she says, settin’ up in her chair an’ pointin’ with her finger at the box. ‘That’s where you ben the last half hour, hangin’ ’round with them minxes in Mis’ Shoolbred’s. What’s in that
