Mrs Skaggss Husbands | Page 5

and his relatives. It was more than
intimated that Tom's alleged aunt was none other than Tom's real
mother, while it was also asserted that Tom's alleged uncle did not
himself participate in this intimate relationship to the boy to an extent
which the fastidious taste of Angel's deemed moral and necessary.
Popular opinion also believed that Islington, the adopted father, who
received a certain stipend ostensibly for the boy's support, retained it as
a reward for his reticence regarding these facts. "He ain't ruinin' hisself
by wastin' it on Tom," said the barkeeper, who possibly possessed
positive knowledge of much of Islington's disbursements. But at this
point exhausted nature languished among some of the debaters, and he
turned from the frivolity of conversation to his severer professional
duties.
It was also well that Bill's momentary attitude of didactic propriety was
not further excited by the subsequent conduct of his protege. For by
this time Tom, half supporting the unstable Johnson, who developed a
tendency to occasionally dash across the glaring road, but checked
himself mid way each time, reached the corral which adjoined the
Mansion House. At its farther extremity was a pump and horse-trough.
Here, without a word being spoken, but evidently in obedience to some
habitual custom, Tom led his companion. With the boy's assistance,
Johnson removed his coat and neckcloth, turned back the collar of his
shirt, and gravely placed his head beneath the pump-spout. With equal
gravity and deliberation, Tom took his place at the handle. For a few
moments only the splashing of water and regular strokes of the pump
broke the solemnly ludicrous silence. Then there was a pause in which
Johnson put his hands to his dripping head, felt of it critically as if it
belonged to somebody else, and raised his eyes to his companion. "That
ought to fetch IT," said Tom, in answer to the look. "Ef it don't,"
replied Johnson, doggedly, with an air of relieving himself of all further

responsibility in the matter, "it's got to, thet's all!"
If "it" referred to some change in the physiognomy of Johnson, "it" had
probably been "fetched" by the process just indicated. The head that
went under the pump was large, and clothed with bushy,
uncertain-colored hair; the face was flushed, puffy, and expressionless,
the eyes injected and full. The head that came out from under the pump
was of smaller size and different shape, the hair straight, dark, and
sleek, the face pale and hollow-cheeked, the eyes bright and restless. In
the haggard, nervous ascetic that rose from the horse-trough there was
very little trace of the Bacchus that had bowed there a moment before.
Familiar as Tom must have been with the spectacle, he could not help
looking inquiringly at the trough, as if expecting to see some traces of
the previous Johnson in its shallow depths.
A narrow strip of willow, alder, and buckeye--a mere dusty, ravelled
fringe of the green mantle that swept the high shoulders of Table
Mountain--lapped the edge of the corral. The silent pair were quick to
avail themselves of even its scant shelter from the overpowering sun.
They had not proceeded far, before Johnson, who was walking quite
rapidly in advance, suddenly brought himself up, and turned to his
companion with an interrogative "Eh?"
"I didn't speak," said Tommy, quietly.
"Who said you spoke?" said Johnson, with a quick look of cunning. "In
course you didn't speak, and I didn't speak, neither. Nobody spoke. Wot
makes you think you spoke?" he continued, peering curiously into
Tommy's eyes.
The smile which habitually shone there quickly vanished as the boy
stepped quietly to his companion's side, and took his arm without a
word.
"In course you didn't speak, Tommy," said Johnson, deprecatingly.
"You ain't a boy to go for to play an ole soaker like me. That's wot I
like you for. Thet's wot I seed in you from the first. I sez, 'Thet 'ere boy
ain't goin' to play you, Johnson! You can go your whole pile on him,

when you can't trust even a bar-keep.' Thet's wot I said. Eh?"
This time Tommy prudently took no notice of the interrogation, and
Johnson went on: "Ef I was to ask you another question, you wouldn't
go to play me neither,--would you, Tommy?"
"No," said the boy.
"Ef I was to ask you," continued Johnson, without heeding the reply,
but with a growing anxiety of eye and a nervous twitching of his
lips,--"ef I was to ask you, fur instance, ef that was a jackass rabbit thet
jest passed,--eh?--you'd say it was or was not, ez the case may be. You
wouldn't play the ole man on thet?"
"No," said Tommy, quietly, "it WAS a jackass rabbit."
"Ef I was to ask you," continued Johnson, "ef it