Quincy Adams Sawyer and Masons Corner Folks | Page 2

resumed his old position
near the corner and assumed his previous expectant attitude.
As he looked down the road, a man came out of Mrs. Hawkins's
boarding house, crossed the road and walked swiftly towards him.
As the new-comer neared him, he called out, "Hello, Pettengill! is that
you? Confounded cold, ain't it? Who wuz yer waitin' for? Been up to
the schoolhouse yet?"
To these inquiries 'Zekiel responded: "No!" and added, "I saw yer
comin' out of the house and thought I'd walk up with yer."
"Wall! they can't do nuthin' till I git thar," said Mr. Obadiah Strout, the
singing-master, "so we shall both be on time. By the way," he

continued, "I was up to Boston to-day to git some things I wanted for
the concert to-morrer night, and the minister asked me to buy some
new music books for the church choir, and I'm goin' up there fust to
take 'em;" and 'Zekiel's attention was attracted to a package that Mr.
Strout held under his arm. "Say, Pettengill!" continued Mr. Strout,
"when yet git up ter the schoolhouse, tell them I'll be along in a few
minutes;" and he started off, apparently forgetful of 'Zekiel's
declaration that he had intended to walk up with him.
It is evident that 'Zekiel's statement was untruthful, for his words have
betrayed the fact that it was not the Professor of whom he had been
thinking.
'Zekiel did not move from his position until he had seen Strout turn into
the yard that led to the front door of the minister's house. Then he said
to himself again, "I don't believe she's comin', arter all."
As he spoke the words a deep, heavy sigh came from his great, honest
heart, heard only by the leaflless trees through which the winter wind
moaned as if in sympathy.
What was going on in the little red schoolhouse? The occasion was the
last rehearsal of the Eastborough Singing Society, which had been
studying vocal music assiduously for the last three months under the
direction of Professor Obadiah Strout, and was to give its annual
conceit the following evening at the Town Hall at Eastborough.
A modest sum had been raised by subscription. A big barge had been
hired in Cottonton, and after the rehearsal there was to be a sleigh ride
to Eastborough Centre and return. It was evident from the clamor and
confusion that the minds of those present were more intent upon the
ride than the rehearsal, and when one girl remarked that the Professor
was late, another quickly replied that, "if he didn't come at all 'twould
be early enough."
There were about two score of young persons present, very nearly
equally divided between the two sexes. Benjamin Bates was there and
Robert Wood, Cobb's twins, Emmanuel Howe, and Samuel Hill.

Among the girls were Lindy Putnam, the best dressed and richest girl in
town, Mandy Skinner, Tilly James, who had more beaus than any other
girl in the village; the Green sisters Samanthy and Betsy, and Miss
Seraphina Cotton, the village schoolteacher.
Evidently all the members of the society had not arrived, for constant
inquiries were being made about Huldy Mason and 'Zekiel Pettengill.
When Betsy Green asked Mandy Skinner if Hiram Maxwell wa'n't
comin', the latter replied that he'd probably come up when Miss Huldy
and the new boarder did.
News had reached the assemblage that Arthur Scates, the best tenor
singer in the society, was sick. Lindy Putnam was to sing a duet with
him at the concert, and so she asked if anybody had been to see him.
"I was up there this arternoon," said Ben Bates, "and he seemed
powerful bad in the throat. Grandmother Scates tied an old stocking
'round his throat and gin him a bowl of catnip tea and he kinder thought
he'd be all right to-morrer. I told him you'd have a conniption fit if he
didn't show up, but Grandmother Scates shook her head kind o'
doubtful and said, 'The Lord's will be done. What can't be cured must
be endured;' and I guess that's about the way it will be."
The outer door opened and 'Zekiel Pettengill entered. The creaking of
the opening door attracted the attention of all. When the girls saw who
it was, they ran and gathered about him, a dozen voices crying out,
"Where is Huldy? We all thought she'd come with you."
'Zekiel shook his head.
"You don't know?" asked Tilly James, incredulously. 'Zekiel shook his
head again. "Of course you do," said Tilly contemptuously.
She turned away, followed by a number of the girls. "He knows well
enough," she observed in an undertone, "but he won't tell. He's gone on
Huldy, and when a feller's gone on a girl he's pretty sure to keep the