The Wooing of Calvin Parks. Richards Laura Elizabeth Howe

clutching their candy sticks. Calvin gazed after them ruefully.

      "Well, hossy, that didn't seem to work real good, did it?" he said. "Fact is, we ain't got the hang of this business, no way, shape or manner. Try to please the kids and you get 'em a spankin' instead. Well, they got their candy anyway. 'Pears as if their Ma needed somethin', howsomever."

      He sat pondering with his eyes fixed anxiously on the house; finally he rummaged among his drawers, and taking out a small package, he climbed laboriously out over the wheel, and making his way up to the house, knocked at the door. The woman opened it with a bounce, and snorted when she saw him.

      Calvin bent toward her confidentially, his face full of serious anxiety.

      "Say, lady!" he said gravely; "I'd like to make you a present of these cardamom seeds. They do say they're the best thing goin' for the temper; kind o' counter-irritant, y' know; bite the tongue, and – "

      The door banged in his face. He smiled placidly, and returning to his wagon clambered in again and chirruped cheerily to the brown horse.

      "Gitty up, hossy!" he said. "I feel a sight better now. Gitty up!"

      They jogged on for some time, Calvin mostly silent, though now and then he broke out into song.

      "Now Renzo was a sailor;

      That's what Renzo was, tiddy hi!

      He surely warn't a tailor,

      So haul the bowline, haul!

      He went adrift in Casco Bay,

      Mate to a mud-scow haulin' hay,

      And he come home late for his weddin' day,

      So haul the bowline, haul!"

      Rounding a curve in the road, he saw a man walking in the same direction in which he was going; a young man, slight and wiry, walking with quick, jerky strides. Calvin observed him.

      "That young feller's in a hurry, hossy," he said. "See him? he's takin' longer steps than what his legs are, and that's agin' natur'. What say about givin' him a lift, hey?"

      The brown horse, his ear being flicked, shook his head decidedly. "Sho!" said Calvin, "you don't mean that, hossy. Your bark – well, not exactly bark – is worse than your – not precisely bite, but you know what I mean. He's in a hurry, and he's in trouble too, and you and me ain't neither one nor 'tother. Say!" he called as he came within hailing distance. "Want a lift?"

      The man stopped with a start, and turned a pale face on Calvin. He had red hair, and his blue eyes burned angrily.

      "Yes!" he said. Calvin stopped, and he jumped quickly into the wagon. Calvin looked at him expectantly a moment; then "Much obliged!" he said. "Real accommodatin' of you!"

      The young man colored like a girl. "I beg your pardon!" he said. "I'm forgetting my manners and everything else, I guess. Much obliged to you for takin' me up. I'm in a terrible hurry!" he added, looking doubtfully at the brown horse, who was jogging peacefully along.

      "Four legs is better than two!" said Calvin. "Gitty up, hossy! He makes better time than what he appears to, hossy does. He's a better ro'der than you be. We'll git there!"

      "How far you goin'?" asked the man.

      "Oh, down along a piece!" said Calvin. "Where be you?"

      "I'm going to Tinkham," said the red-haired man with angry emphasis; "to Lawyer Filcher. If there was any lawyer nearer I'd go to him."

      "I want to know!" said Calvin sociably. "Insurance?"

      "No!" the man broke out. "I'm goin' to get a bill!"

      Now in our part of the country a "bill" means a bill of divorce. Calvin shook his head with sympathetic interest.

      "Sho!" he said. "A young feller like you? now ain't that a pity?"

      "I can't stand it any longer!" the lad cried, and his hands worked with passion. "Nor yet I won't, I tell you. No man would. This ends it. We was mismated from the first, and this is the last."

      "Well!" said Calvin. "Ain't that a pity now? If it's so, it's so, and mebbe a bill is the best thing. Awful homely, is she?"

      The lad turned upon him, and his blue eyes flashed.

      "Homely?" he said roughly. "What you talkin' about? she was Katie Hazard."

      "Nice name!" said Calvin. "Come from these parts?"

      "I guess you don't!" retorted the lad, "or you wouldn't have to be told. She was called the prettiest girl in the county when I married her, and she hasn't got over it yet."

      "You don't say!" said Calvin placidly. "Well, good looks is pleasant, I always maintain; I'd full rather have a woman good-lookin' if other things is 'cordin' to. I suppose likely she's a poor cook? A man has to have his victuals, you know!"

      "She's the best cook in the State!" said the young man doggedly. "I'd back her riz bread or doughnuts or pies against any woman's from Portland to 'Roostick."

      "Quite a ways," said Calvin. "S'pose likely she's slack, hey? house cluttered up? calicker wrapper and shoes down at the heel? that kind?"

      The blue eyes flared at him. "I don't want none o' this kind o' talk!" he said sharply. "Slack! I'd sooner eat off Katie's kitchen floor than any other woman's parlor table that ever I see. You find me a speck o' dust or a spot o' dirt round our house and I'll find you a blue hen."

      "I see!" said Calvin. "Another fellow, is there?"

      "No!" shouted the young man, and he turned savagely on Calvin. "I'd like to know why you're sayin' this kind of thing, when you never see nor heard of me nor my wife before."

      "Well!" said Calvin comfortably. "I've been wonderin' ever since you got in whether you was an ill-used man or a darned fool, and now I've found out. Why, you loony, if you've got a wife like all that, why in Tunkett are you goin' to get a bill?"

      His voice rang out like a ship's trumpet. The lad shrunk down in his seat, and his face grew dogged and set.

      "We was mismated, I tell you!" he said. "She's got a temper!"

      "Well, how about you?" asked Calvin. "You ain't got that red hair for nothin', son."

      "I know! I have one too," the lad admitted; "and each one stirs the other up and makes it worse. It's no use, I tell you! We get jawin' and the house won't hold us both, so I'm going to clear out."

      "Sho!" said Calvin.

      They were silent for a few moments, the young husband brooding over his wrongs, Calvin meditating. At last he said slowly, "Young feller, I ain't no lawyer, nor yet wishful to be; but I expect I can cure your case."

      "What do you mean?" asked the lad.

      "I expect I can cure your case," Calvin repeated deliberately, "for less money by a good sight, and more agreeable all round. Lemme see! two and two is four, and seven times four is twenty-eight, and two more – yes, sir! I'll undertake to cure your case for thirty cents, and do it handsome."

      He opened a drawer, and after a careful inspection took out two small objects which he held up. "See them?" he said. "This is your article. All Day Suckers, they're called, and well named. The candy fills the mouth and yet don't crowd it any; the stick is to hold on by, and take it out when necessary. Pure sugar, no glucose in it; not a mite! Pure sugar, cream o' tartar killed, and flavored with fruit surrup. Now, young feller, you take fourteen of them suckers. They're two cents apiece, that's two for every day in the week. Every time you two find you're beginnin' to jaw, in goes your sucker, and you keep it there till you feel pleasant again. Keep that up for a week, and finish up at the end with a Purity Kiss – fifteen cents a dozen, call it two cents apiece, and I'll lay my next lo'd – what's that?"

      A sharp rattle was heard. Both men turned round, and saw a light wagon whirling toward them. The horse was galloping; the driver, a young woman in a cloud of red gold hair, was urging him on with whip and voice.

      "Well!" said Calvin Parks.

      "Great hemlock!" cried the young man. "Katie, stop!" He leaped out over the wheel, and set off running toward the advancing wagon. The young woman