The William Henry Letters

Second Syllable

Lady in morning-dress and jaunty breakfast-cap, sadly leaning her head on her hand. On table near is toast, chocolate, &c. Enter Maggie with tray.

Maggie. Ate a bit, mum, ate a bit. 'T will cheer ye up like!

Lady (looking up). No, no, I cannot eat. O, the precious darling! It is now seventeen hours since I saw him last. Ah, he's lost!

Maggie. And did ye slape at arl, mum?

Lady. Scarcely, Maggie. And in dreams I saw my darling, chased by rude boys, or at the bottom of deep waters, in filthy mud, eaten by fishes, or else mauled by dreadful cats. Take away the untasted meal. I cannot, cannot eat.

Exit Maggie with breakfast things. Enter Mike with newspapers.

Mike. Mornin' paper, mum.

Lady (catching it, and looking eagerly up and down its columns). Let me see if he is found. O, here! "Found! A diamond pin on – " Pshaw, diamond pin! Here it is. "Dog found! Black and tan – " Faugh, black and tan! My beauty was pure white. But, Mike where's the notice of our darling's being lost?

Mike. Shure, an' it's to the side o' the house I put it, mum, arl writ in illegant sizey litters, mum.

Lady (in alarm). And didn't you go to the printers at all?

Mike. Shure an' be n't it better out in the brard daylight, mum, laning aginst th' 'ouse convanient like, an' aisy to see, mum?

Lady. O Mike, you've undone me! Quick! Pen, ink, and paper. Quick! I say.

Exit Mike.

Lady (solus). It was but yesterday I held him in these arms! He licked my face, and took from my hand the bits of chicken, and sipped of my chocolate. His little black eyes looked up, O so brightly! to mine. His little tail, it wagged so happy! O, dear, lovely one, where are you now?

Enter Mike, with placard on long stick, with these words in very large letters.

☞ Dog Lost! V Dollus! ReeWarD! InnQuire Withinn! Live oR DED!!!

Reads it aloud, very slowly, pointing with finger.

Mike. An' it's meeself larned the fine writin', mum, in th' ould counthry.

Lady (excited). Pray take that dreadful thing away, and bring me pen and paper!

Exit Mike, muttering. Knock heard at door.

Lady. Come!

Enter Market-Man, in blue frock.

Market-man. Good day, ma'am. Heard you'd lost a dog.

Lady (eagerly, with hand extended). Yes, yes! Where is he?

Market-man. Was he a curly, shaggy dog?

Lady. Yes! O yes! Where did you find him?

Market-man. Was your dog bright and playful?

Lady (in an excited manner). O, very! very!

Market-man. Answered to the name of Carlo?

Lady. Yes! He did! he did! O, if I had him in these arms!

Market-man (in surprise). Arms, ma'am? Arms? 'T is a Newfoundland dog! He could carry you in his arms!

Lady (dejected). O cruel, cruel disappointment!

Market-man. What kind of a dog was yours?

Lady. O, a dear little lapdog. His curls were white and soft as silk!

Market-man (going). Good day, ma'am. If I see him, I'll fetch him.

Exit Market-Man. Mike enters with writing materials, and goes out again. Lady begins to write, repeating the words she writes aloud.

Lady. Lost, strayed, or stolen. A curly – (Tap at door.) Come!

Enter stupid-looking Boy, in scanty jacket and trousers, and too large hat.

Lady. Did you wish to see me?

Boy (drawling). Yes, ma'am.

Lady. About a dog?

Boy. Yes, ma'am.

Lady. Have you found one?

Boy. Yes, ma'am.

Lady. Is it a very small dog?

Boy. Yes, ma'am.

Lady. Sweet and playful?

Boy. Yes, ma'am?

Lady. Did you bring him with you?

Boy. Yes, ma'am (pointing). Out there.

Lady (excited). O, bring him to me. Quick! O, if it should be he! If it should! (Boy brings in small dog, yellow or black or spotted.)

Lady (in disgust). O, not that horrid creature! Take him away! Take him away!

Boy. Isn't that your dog?

Lady. No! no! O, can't you take the horrid animal away?

Boy (going). Yes, ma'am.

Exit Boy with dog. Lady prepares to write.

Lady. Stupid thing! Now I'll write. (Repeats.) Lost, strayed, or stolen. A curly, white – (Tap at the door.) Come! (Lays down pen.)

Enter ragged Boy, with covered basket.

Lady. Have you found a dog?

Boy. No, I hain't found no dog.

Lady. Then what do you want?

Boy. Father sells puppies. Father said if you'd lost your dog, you'd want to buy one of 'em. Said you could take your pick out o' these 'ere five. (Opens basket for her to look in.)

Lady (shuddering). Little wretches! Away with them!

Boy. They'll grow, father said, high's the table.

Lady. Carry them off, can't you?

Boy. Father wants to know what you'll take for your dog, running. Father said he'd give a dollar, an' risk the ketchin' on him.

Lady. Dollar? No. Not if he were dead! Not if I knew he were drowned, and the fishes had eaten him, would I sell my darling pet for a paltry dollar!

Boy (going). Good mornin'. Guess I'll be goin'. If I find your dog, I won't (aside) let you know.

Exit Boy, with bow and scrape.

Lady (writes again, and repeats). Lost, strayed, or stolen. A cur – (Knock at the door.) Come! (Lays down pen.)

Enter Mrs. Mulligan.

Mrs. Mulligan. An' is it yourself lost a dog, thin?

Lady (eagerly). Yes. A small, white, curly, silky dog. Have you seen him?

Mrs. Mulligan. Och, no. But't was barkin' all night he was, behint th' 'ouse. An' the b'ys, – that's me Pat an' Tim, they drooned him, mum, bad luck to 'em, in the mornin' arly.

Lady. And did you see him?

Mrs. Mulligan. No, shure.

Lady. And where is he now?

Mrs. Mulligan. O, it's safe he is, Pat tould me, to the bottom o' No Bottom Pond, mum.

Lady. And how do you know 't is my dog?

Mrs. Mulligan. Faith, an' whose dog should it be, thin?

Lady. Send your boys, and I'll speak with them.

Mrs. Mulligan (going). I'll send them, mum. Mornin' mum.

Exit Mrs. Mulligan. Another tap at the door.

Lady. O, this is not to be borne! Come!

Enter Countrywoman with bandbox, – not an old woman.

Lady (earnestly). If it's about a dog, tell me all you know at once! Is he living?

Countrywoman. Yes'm, but he's quite poorly. I think dogs shows their sickness, same as human creturs do. Course they have their feelin's.

Lady. Do tell quick.

Countrywoman. Just what I want, for I'm in a hurry myself. So I'll jump right inter the thick on 't. You see last night when my old man was ridin' out o' town in his cart, with some o' his cabbages left over, for garden sarse hadn't been very brisk all day, and he was late a comin' out on account o' the off ox bein' some lame, and my old man ain't apt to hurry his critters, for a marciful man is marciful to his beasts, you —

Lady. But about the dog!

Countrywoman. Wal, the old man was a ridin' along, slow, you know, – I alwers tell him he'll never set the great pond afire, – and a countin' over his cabbageheads and settlin' the keg o' molasses amongst 'em, and a little jug of – (nods and winks and smiles), – jest for a medicine, you know. For we never do, – I nor the old man, – never, 'xcept in case o' sickness.

Lady (impatiently). But what about the dog?

Countrywoman. Wal, he was a ridin' along, and jest got to the outskirts o' the town, when he happened to see two boys a squabblin' which should have a dog, – a little teenty white curly mite of a cretur —

Lady. Yes! Go on! Go on!

Countrywoman. And he asked 'em would they take fifty cents apiece and give it up. For he knew 't would be rewarded in the newspapers. And they took the fifty.

Lady (eagerly). And what did he do with him? Where is he now?

Countrywoman. Why, I was goin' to ride in with the old man this mornin' to have my bunnet new done over, and I took the dog along. And we happened to see that 'ere notice, and he and I together, we spelt it out! (Opening bandbox.) Now look in here! Snug as a bug, right in the crown o' my bunnet Seems poorly, but he'll pick up. (Takes out a white lapdog.)1

Lady (snatches him, and hugs and kisses him). 'T is my Carlo. O my precious, precious pet! Ah, he is too weak to move. I must feed him and put him to sleep. (Rises to go out.)

Countrywoman. But the five dollars, marm!

Lady. O, you must call again. I can't think of any paltry five dollars, now. (Exit.)

Countrywoman (calling out). I'll wait, marm!

Enter Mike.

Mike. An' what bisness are ye doin' here?

Countrywoman. Waiting for my pay.

Mike. Pay, is it? Och, she'll niver pay the day. She's owin' me wages, an' owin' the cook, and Mrs. Flarty that scoors, and the millinery lady, an' 't is "Carl agin," she sez. "Carl agin. Can't ye carl agin?"

Countrywoman. Then I'll get mine now. (Takes off shawl, and sits down. Takes out long blue stocking, and goes to knitting, first pinning on her knitting-sheath.) I don't budge, without the pay.

Mike looks on admiringly. Curtain drops.

Whole Word

Clerk standing behind counter, with shawls and various dry goods to sell. Also rolls or pieces of carpet, oil and other kinds. Various placards on the walls, – "No credit." "Goods marked down!" &c. Enter Old Woman.

Old Woman (speaking in rather high key). Do you keep stockings?

Clerk (handing box of stockings). O yes. Here are some, very good quality.

Old Woman (examining them). Mighty thin, them be.

Clerk. I assure you, they are warranted to wear.

Old Woman. To wear out, I guess.

Enter Young Married Couple.

Clerk. Good morning. Can we sell you anything to-day?

Wife (modestly). We wish to look at a few of your carpets.

Clerk. This way, ma'am.

Husband. Hem! (Clearing his throat.) We will look at something for parlors.

Clerk. Here is a style very much admired. (Unrolls carpet.) Elegant pattern. We import all our goods, ma'am. That's a firm piece of goods. You couldn't do better. We warrant it to wear. All fast colors.

Old Woman (coming near). A good rag carpet'll wear out two o' that.

Wife (to Husband). I think it is a lovely pattern. Don't you like it, Charley?

Husband. Hem – well, I have seen prettier. But then, 't is just as you say, dear.

Wife. O no, Charley. 'T is just as you say. I want to please you, dear.

Old Woman (to Clerk). Have you got any crash towelling?

Husband. What's the price of this carpet?

Clerk. Three dollars a yard. Here's another style (unrolls another) just brought in. (Attends to Old Woman.)

Husband (speaking to Wife). Perhaps we'd better look at the other articles you wanted. (They go to another part of the store, examining articles.)

Enter a spare, thin Woman, in plain dress and green veil.

Clerk. Can we sell you anything to-day?

Woman. I was thinking of buying a carpet.

Clerk. Step this way, ma'am. (Shows them.) We have all styles, ma'am.

Woman. I want one that will last. (Examining it.)

Clerk (taking hold of it). Firm as iron, ma'am. We've sold five hundred pieces of that goods. If it don't wear, we'll agree to pay back the money.

Woman. I want one that won't show dirt.

Clerk. Warranted not to show dirt, ma'am. We warrant all our goods.

Woman. Can it be turned?

Clerk. Perfectly well, ma'am. 'Twill turn as long as there's a bit of it left.

Woman. What do you ask?

Clerk. Well, we have been selling that piece of goods for three fifty, but you may have it for three dollars.

Woman. Couldn't you take less?

Clerk. Couldn't take a cent less. Cost more by wholesale.

Woman. I think I'll look further. (Going.)

Clerk. Well, now seeing it's the last piece, you may have it for two fifty.

Woman. I wasn't expecting to give over two dollars a yard. (Going.)

Clerk. Now I'll tell you what I'll do. Say two and a quarter, and take it.

Woman. I have decided not to go over two dollars. (Going.)

Clerk (crossly). Well. You can have it for that. But we lose on it. In fact, we are selling now to keep the trade, nothing else. Twenty-five yards? I'll measure it directly.

Old Woman. Have you got any cotton flannel?

Enter Fashionable Lady.

Clerk (all attention, bowing). Good morning, madam. Can we sell you anything to-day?

Fashionable Lady. I am looking at carpets this morning. Have you anything new?

Clerk. This way, madam. We have several new lots, just imported. (Shows one.)

Fashionable Lady. It must light up well, or it will never suit me.

Clerk. Lights up beautifully, madam.

Fashionable Lady. Is this real tapestry?

Clerk. O, certainly, madam. We shouldn't think of showing you any other.

Fashionable Lady. What's the price?

Clerk. Well, this is a Persian pattern, and we can't offer it for less than six dollars. Mrs. Topothetree bought one off the same piece.

Fashionable Lady. 'T is a lovely thing, and when a carpet suits me, the price is no objection.

Old Woman (coming forward). Have you got any remnants? I wanted to get a strip to lay down afore the fire. (Speaking to Lady.) Goin' to give six dollars a yard for that? Guess you better larn how to make a rag carpet. Fust, take your old coats and trousers, and strip 'em up inter narrer strips, and jine the strips together, and wind all that up in great balls. That's your warp. Then take coarse yarn and color it all colors. That's your fillin'. Then hire your carpet wove, and that carpet'll last.

Enter Policeman and a Gentleman.

Gentleman (pointing to Fashionable Lady). That is the person.

Policeman (placing his hand on her shoulder). This gentleman, madam, thinks you have —borrowed a quantity of his lace goods.

Fashionable Lady (with air of astonishment). I? Impossible! Impossible, sir!

Gentleman. I am sure of it.

Policeman. Will you have the goodness, madam, to come with us?

Curtain drops, while all are gazing at each other in amazement.

-

I procured a copy of the above charade for little Silas. There was a sociable, one evening, at his school, got up for the purpose of raising money to buy a melodeon, or a seraphine, I don't know which. I never do know which is a melodeon and which is a seraphine. I have an idea the first sounds more melodious.

They wanted a charade to act, and I sent them this of William Henry's. Silas took the character of the fellow from the country. They liked the charade very much. The brake-man had the forward wheels of a baby carriage for his brakes. Of course only one of the wheels was seen, and he made a great ado turning it.

At the end the cars ran off the track, and the curtain fell upon a general smash-up.

William Henry to his Grandmother

Dear Grandmother, —

The puddles bear in the morning and next thing the pond will, and I want to have my skates here all ready. 'Most all the boys have got all theirs already, waiting for it to freeze. They hang up on that beam in the sink-room chamber. Look under my trainer trousers that I had to play trainer in when I's a little chap, on that great wooden peg, and you'll find 'em hanging up under the trousers. And my sled too, for Dorry and I are going to have double-runner together soon as snow comes. It's down cellar. We went to be weighed, and the man said I was built of solid timber. Dorry he hid some great iron dumb-bells in his pockets for fun, and the man first he looked at Dorry and then at the figures, and then at his weights; he didn't know what to make of it. For I've grown so much faster that we're almost of a size.

First of it Dorry kept a sober face, but pretty soon he began to laugh, and took the dumb-bells out, and then weighed over, and guess what we weighed?

The fellers call us "Dorry & Co." because we keep together so much. When he goes anywhere he says "Come, Sweet William!" and when I go anywhere I say "Come, Old Dorrymas!" There's a flower named Sweet William. There isn't any fish named Dorrymas, but there's one named Gurrymas. We keep our goodies in the same box, and so we do our pencils and the rest of our traps. His bed is 'most close to mine, and the one that wakes up first pulls the other one's hair. One boy that comes here is a funny-looking chap, and wears cinnamon-colored clothes, all faded out. He isn't a very big feller. He has his clothes given to him. He comes days and goes home nights, for he lives in this town. He's got great eyes and a great mouth, and always looks as if he was just a-going to laugh. Sometimes when the boys go by him they make a noise, sniff, sniff, sniff, with their noses, making believe they smelt something spicy, like cinnamon. I hope you'll find my skates, and send 'em right off, for fear the pond might freeze over. They hang on that great wooden peg in the sink-room chamber, that sticks in where two beams come together, under my trainer trousers; you'll see the red stripes.

Some of us have paid a quarter apiece to get a football, and shouldn't you think 't was real mean for anybody to back out, and then come to kick? One feller did. And he was one of the first ones to get it up too. "Let's get up a good one while we're about it," says he, "that won't kick right out." Dorry went to pick it out, and took his own money, and all the rest paid in their quarters, and what was over the price we took in peanuts. O, you ought to 've seen that bag of peanuts! Held about half a bushel. When he found the boys were talking about him he told somebody that when anybody said, "Let's get up something," it wasn't just the same as to say he'd pay part. But we say 't is. And we talked about it down to the Two Betseys' shop, and Lame Betsey said 't was mean doings enough, and The Other Betsey said, "Anybody that won't pay their part, I don't care who they be." And I've seen him eating taffy three times and more, too, since then, and figs. And he comes and kicks sometimes, and when they offered some of the peanuts to him, to see if he'd take any, he took some.

Now Spicey won't do that. We said he might kick, but he don't want to, not till he gets his quarter. He's going to earn it. If my skates don't hang up on that wooden peg, like enough Aunt Phebe's little Tommy's been fooling with 'em. Once he did, and they fell through that hole where a piece of the floor is broke out. You'd better look down that hole. I'm going to send home my Report next time. I couldn't get perfect every time. Dorry says if a feller did that, he'd know too much to come to school. But there's some that do. Not very many. Spicey did four days running. I could 'a got more perfects, only one time I didn't know how far to get, and another time I didn't hear what the question was he put out to me, and another time I didn't stop to think and answered wrong when I knew just as well as could be. And another time I missed in the rules. You better believe they are hard things to get. Bubby Short says he wishes they'd take out the rules and let us do our sums in peace, and so I say. And then one more time some people came to visit the school, and they looked right in my face, when the question came to me, and put me out. I shouldn't think visitors would look a feller right in the face, when he's trying to tell something. Dorry says that I blushed up as red as fire-coals. I guess a red-header blushes up redder than any other kind; don't you? I had some taken off my Deportment, because I laughed out loud. I didn't mean to, but I'm easy to laugh. But Dorry he can keep a sober face just when he wants to, and so can Bubby Short. I was laughing at Bubby Short. He was snapping apple-seeds at Old Wonder Boy's cheeks, and he couldn't tell who snapped 'em, for Bubby Short would be studying away, just as sober. At last one hit hard, and W. B. jumped and shook his fist at the wrong feller, and I felt a laugh coming, and puckered my mouth up, and twisted round, but first thing I knew, out it came, just as sudden, and that took off some.

I shall keep the Report till next time, because this time I'm going to send mine and Dorry's photographs taken together. We both paid half. We got it taken in a saloon that travels about on wheels. 'T is stopping here now. Course we didn't expect to look very handsome. But the man says 't is wonderful what handsome pictures homely folks expect to make. Says he tells 'em he has to take what's before him. Dorry says he's sure we look very well for the first time taking. Says it needs practice to make a handsome picture. Please send it back soon because he wants to let his folks see it. Send it when you send the skates. Send the skates soon as you can, for fear the pond might freeze over. Aunt Phebe's little Tommy can have my old sharp-shooter for his own, if he wants it. Remember me to my sister.

Your affectionate Grandson,William Henry.-

As the photograph above mentioned had altogether too serious an expression, a younger one was used in drawing the picture for the frontispiece. Neither of the three do him justice, as neither of the three can give his merry laugh.

Grandmother to William Henry

My dear Boy, —

Your father and all of us were very glad to see that photograph, for it seemed next thing to seeing you, you dear child. We couldn't bear to send it away so soon. I kept it on the mantel-piece, with my spectacles close by, so that when I went past it I could take a look. We sent word in to your aunt Phebe and in a few minutes little Tommy came running across and said his "muzzer said he must bwing Billy's Pokerdaff in, wight off." But I told him to tell his muzzer that Billy's Pokerdaff must be sent back very soon, and wasn't going out of my sight a minute while it stayed, and they must come in. And they did. We all think 't is a very natural picture, only too sober. You ought to try to look smiling at such times. I wish you'd had somebody to pull down your jacket, and see to your collar's being even. But Aunt Phebe says 't is a wonder you look as well as you do, with no woman to fix you. I should know Dorry's picture anywhere. Uncle Jacob wants to know what you were both so cross about? Says you look as if you'd go to fighting the minute you got up.

Little Tommy is tickled enough with that sled, and keeps looking up in the sky to see when snow is coming down, and drags it about on the bare ground, if we don't watch him.

I had almost a good mind to keep the skates at home. Boys are so venturesome. They always think there's no danger. I said to your father, "Now if anything should happen to Billy I should wish we'd never sent them." But he's always afraid I shall make a Miss Nancy of you. Now I don't want to do that. But there's reason in all things. And a boy needn't drown himself to keep from being a Miss Nancy. He thinks you've got sense enough not to skate on thin ice, and says the teachers won't allow you to skate if the pond isn't safe. But I don't have faith in any pond being safe. My dear boy, there's danger even if the thermometer is below zero. There may be spring-holes. Never was a boy got drowned yet skating, but what thought there was no danger. Do be careful. I know you would if you only knew how I keep awake nights worrying about you.