Miss Mehetabels Son | Page 9

was hopeful and sunny, and Andy's
prospects were brilliant. When the weather was overcast and
threatening he grew restless and despondent, and was afraid that the
boy was not going to turn out well.
On the Saturday previous to my departure, which had been fixed for
Monday, it rained heavily all the afternoon, and that night Mr. Jaffrey
was in an unusually excitable and unhappy frame of mind. His mercury
was very low indeed.
"That boy is going to the dogs just as fast as he can go," said Mr.
Jaffrey, with a woful face. "I can't do anything with him."
"He'll come out all right, Mr. Jaffrey. Boys will be boys. I would not
give a snap for a lad without animal spirits."
"But animal spirits," said Mr. Jaffrey sententiously, "should n't saw off
the legs of the piano in Tobias's best parlor. I don't know what Tobias
will say when he finds it out."
"What! has Andy sawed off the legs of the old spinet?" I returned,
laughing. "Worse than that." "Played upon it, then!" "No, sir. He has
lied to me!" "I can't believe that of Andy." "Lied to me, sir," repeated

Mr. Jaffrey, severely. "He pledged me his word of honor that he would
give over his climbing. The way that boy climbs sends a chill down my
spine. This morning, notwithstanding his solemn promise, he shinned
up the lightning-rod attached to the extension, and sat astride the
ridge-pole. I saw him, and he denied it! When a boy you have caressed
and indulged and lavished pocket-money on lies to you and will climb,
then there's nothing more to be said. He's a lost child." "You take too
dark a view of it, Mr. Jaffrey. Training and education are bound to tell
in the end, and he has been well brought up."
"But I did n't bring him up on a lightning-rod, did I? If he is ever going
to know how to behave, he ought to know now. To-morrow he will be
eleven years old."
The reflection came to me that if Andy had not been brought up by the
rod, he had certainly been brought up by the lightning. He was eleven
years old in two weeks!
I essayed, with that perspicacious wisdom which seems to be the
peculiar property of bachelors and elderly maiden ladies, to tranquillize
Mr. Jaffrey's mind, and to give him some practical hints on the
management of youth.
"Spank him," I suggested at last.
"I will!" said the old gentleman.
"And you 'd better do it at once!" I added, as it flashed upon me that in
six months Andy would be a hundred and forty-three years old!--an age
at which parental discipline would have to be relaxed.
The next morning. Sunday, the rain came down as if determined to
drive the quicksilver entirely out of my poor friend. Mr. Jaffrey sat bolt
upright at the breakfast-table, looking as woe-begone as a bust of Dante,
and retired to his chamber the moment the meal was finished. As the
day advanced, the wind veered round to the northeast, and settled itself
down to work. It was not pleasant to think, and I tried not to think, what
Mr. Jaffrey's condition would be if the weather did not mend its

manners by noon; but so far from clearing off at noon, the storm
increased in violence, and as night set in the wind whistled in a spiteful
falsetto key, and the rain lashed the old tavern as if it were a balky
horse that refused to move on. The windows rattled in the worm-eaten
frames, and the doors of remote rooms, where nobody ever went,
slammed to in the maddest way. Now and then the tornado, sweeping
down the side of Mount Agamenticus, bowled across the open country,
and struck the ancient hostelry point-blank.
Mr. Jaffrey did not appear at supper. I knew that he was expecting me
to come to his room as usual, and I turned over in my mind a dozen
plans to evade seeing him that night. The landlord sat at the opposite
side of the chimney-place, with his eye upon me. I fancy he was aware
of the effect of this storm on his other boarder, for at intervals, as the
wind hurled itself against the exposed gable, threatening to burst in the
windows, Mr. Sewell tipped me an atrocious wink, and displayed his
gums in a way he had not done since the morning after my arrival at
Greenton. I wondered if he suspected anything about Andy. There had
been odd times during the past week when I felt convinced that the
existence of Miss Mehetabel's son was no secret to Mr. Sewell.
In deference to the gale, the landlord sat up half an hour later than