The Village Watch-Tower | Page 9

enough to hold their tongues."
An exciting interview soon took place in the middle of the road, and
Almira reentered the room with the expression of one who had
penetrated the inscrutable and solved the riddle of the Sphinx. She had
been vouch-safed one of those gleams of light in darkness which

almost dazzle the beholder.
"That's about the confirmingest thing I've heern yet!" she ejaculated, as
she took off her shaker bonnet. "They say they're goin' up to their aunt
Hitty's to stay two days. They're dressed in their best, clean to the skin,
for I looked; 'n' it's their night gownds they've got in the bundle. They
say little Mote has gone to Union to stop all night with his uncle Abijah,
'n' that leaves Rube all alone, for the smith girl that does his chores is
home sick with the hives. And what do you s'pose is in the pail? Fruit
cake,--that's what 't is, no more 'n' no less! I knowed that Smith girl
didn't bake it, 'n' so I asked 'em, 'n' they said Miss Emery give it to 'em.
There was two little round try-cakes, baked in muffin-rings. Eunice hed
took some o' the batter out of a big loaf 'n' baked it to se how it was
goin' to turn out. That means wedding-cake, or I'm mistaken!"
"There ain't no gittin' round that," agreed the assembled company,
"now is there, Mis' Bascom?"
Old Mrs. Bascom wet her finger, smoothed the parting of her false
front, and looked inscrutable.
"I don't see why you're so secret," objected Diadema.
"I've got my opinions, and I've had 'em some time," observed the good
lady. "I don't know 's I'm bound to tell 'em and have 'em held up to
ridicule. Let the veal hang, I say. If any one of us is right, we'll all
know to-morrow."
"Well, all any of us has got to judge from is appearances," said
Diadema, "and how you can twist 'em one way, and us another, stumps
me!"
"Perhaps I see more appearances than you do," retorted her
mother-in-law. "Some folks mistakes all they see for all there is. I was
reading a detective story last week. It seems there was an awful murder
in Schenectady, and a mother and her two children was found dead in
one bed, with bullet holes in their heads. The husband was away on
business, and there wasn't any near neighbors to hear her screech. Well,

the detectives come from far and from near, and begun to work up the
case. One of 'em thought 't was the husband,-- though he set such store
by his wife he went ravin' crazy when he heard she was dead,--one of
'em laid it on the children,--though they was both under six years old;
and one decided it was suicide,--though the woman was a church
member and didn't know how to fire a gun off, besides. And then there
come along a detective younger and smarter than all the rest, and says
he, `If all you bats have seen everything you can see, I guess I'll take a
look around,' says he. Sure enough, there was a rug with `Welcome' on
it layin' in front of the washstand, and when he turned it up he found an
elegant diamond stud with a man's full name and address on the gold
part. He took a train and went right to the man's house. He was so taken
by surprise (he hadn't missed the stud, for he had a full set of 'em) that
he owned right up and confessed the murder."
"I don't see as that's got anything to do with this case," said Diadema.
"It's got this much to do with it," replied old Mrs. Bascom, "that
perhaps you've looked all round the room and seen everything you had
eyes to see, and perhaps I've had wit enough to turn up the rug in front
o' the washstand."
"Whoever he marries now, Mis' Bascom'll have to say 't was the one
she meant," laughed the Widow Buzzell.
"I never was caught cheatin' yet, and if I live till Saturday I shall be
seventy-one years old," said the old lady with some heat. "Hand me
Jot's lead pencil, Diademy, and that old envelope on the winder sill. I'll
write the name I think of, and shut it up in the old Bible. My hand's so
stiff to-day I can't hardly move it, but I guess I can make it plain
enough to satisfy you."
"That's fair 'n' square," said Hannah Sophia, "and for my pat I hope it
ain't Eunice, for I like her too well. What they're goin' to live on is more
'n I can see. Add nothin' to nothin' 'n' you git nothin',--that's arethmetic!
He ain't hed