1424 
The  RURAL.  NEW-YORKER 
November  17,  1923 
“Charlie  and  Henry” 
Part  II 
Who  could  ask  for  a  clearer  statement 
of  John’s  domestic  problem?  It  was  not 
his  nature  to  butt,  yet  who  can  run  a 
farm  successfully  without  more  or  less 
butting?  When  we  got  back  to  the 
house  Violet  was  after  her  husband  before 
he  had  a  chance  to  pull  off  his  boots. 
“Now  John,  Billy  hasn’t  come  home 
yet,  and  I’m  worried  about  him.  They’ve 
got  too  much  hard  cider  up  at  Benson’s. 
You  go  up  there  and  find  out  about  him  !” 
John  dutifully  plodded  off  into  the 
storm,  and  his  wife  brought  her  sewing' 
into  the  light  of  the  kerosene  lamn. 
“It’s  a  terrible  trial,  teacher,  to  have 
such  an  easy-going  man  around.  He  was 
so  big  and  made  such  a  noise  that  I 
thought  I’d  married  a  full  man.  but  some¬ 
times  I  think  I  said  ‘yes’  to  a  big  piece 
of  cheese.  John  is  a  good  man  and  a 
good  farmer,  but,  oh,  so  slack  about 
standing  up  for  his  rights !  lie  can’t  say 
‘no’  to  nobody,  and  it’s  lucky  I  wouldn’t 
say  ‘yes’  to  the  king !” 
Here  there  was  a  commotion  at  the 
door,  a  scuffle  of  feet  and  loud  voices. 
We  heard  John  say  : 
“You  come  right  in  here,  Billy,  and  I’ll 
stand  by  you !” 
Then  a  feebler  voice  broke  in  : 
“A  lot  of  good  that’ll  do  me !  Let  me 
go  in  the  back  way  and  get  right  up  to 
bed  !” 
But  the  door  swung  open  and  John  ap¬ 
peared  with  his  big  hand  on  the  collar 
of  a  slender  boy  of  about  10.  John  swung 
him  in  and  shut  the  door  behind  him. 
“Teacher,”  said  John,  still  with  his 
hand  on  the  boy’s  collar,  “this  is  Billy, 
Vi’s  first  cousin.  He  works  for  us !” 
Mrs.  Baker  was  quite  unlike  her  first 
name  as  she  stook  up  and  pointed  at 
Billy. 
“Works  here,  does  he?  I  h’ain’t  seen 
him  work.  A  lazy,  shiftless  tyke,  off 
drinking  hard  cider  till  he  comes  home 
drunk.  I  know  he’s  drunk,  and  no  drunk¬ 
ard  ever  sleeps  in  my  house.  John,  you 
just  take  him  out  to  the  barn.  Put  him 
in  with  the  sheep  if  they  can  stand  him. 
I’ll  put  my  foot  right  down  on  one  thing 
— no  drunkard  sleeps  in  one  of  my  beds !” 
It  was  a  dramatic  scene ;  some  play¬ 
wright  could  have  done  great  things  with 
if ;  the  howling  storm  outside,  the  dim- 
lighted  room,  the  angry  woman,  the 
frightened  little  girl  and  the  big  giant  by 
the  door,  still  holding  the  boy  by  the  col¬ 
lar.  To  my  surprise  it  was  John  who 
answered  back  : 
“Sho,  Vi,  you  can’t  turn  him  out.  I 
can’t  quote  the  Bible,  but  there’s  some¬ 
thing  about’ it  there.  Billy  ain’t  drunk. 
I’ll  leave  it  to  teacher  here  if  he  is. 
Don’t  drive  the  boy  to  the  barn.  He’ll 
never  get  over  that.  It’ll  make  him  think 
lie’s  only  a  dumb  brute.  Ask  teacher,  he 
knows !”  , 
To  me  there  was  something  pathetic 
beyond  description  in  this  appeal  to  Caesar 
from  the  good-natured  and  humiliated 
John.  Many  of  us  know  what  it  means 
to  have  such  a  relative  in  the  family. 
Most  men  would  have  been  only  too  glad 
to  get  rid  of  Billy,  but  here  was  John, 
rising  above  it  all.  and  even  daring  the 
wrath  of  his  home  tyrant — true  to  his 
rude  idea  of  fair  play  and  justice.  And 
I  think  something  of  this  was  made  clear 
to  the  woman. 
“Well.”  she  said,  not  unkindly,  “I’ll 
leave  it  to  teacher.  If  he  says  Billy  isn’t 
drunk  he  can  sleep  here.” 
Now  if  you  were  appointed  as  judge  to 
decide  whether  a  hard  cider  addict  was 
intoxicated  or  not.  with  no  chemical  lab¬ 
oratory  or  scientific  apparatus,  what  test 
would  you  apply?  I  decided  on  the  chalk 
line  test.  Little  Nellie  had  a  piece,  of 
chalk  and  with  it  I  drew  a  white  straight 
mark  the  entire  length  of  the  long  kitch¬ 
en.  We  put  Billy  at  one'  end  of  the 
chalk  mark  and  I  stood  at  the  other.  If 
he  could  walk  that  straight  an  ark  with¬ 
out  wandering  away  from  it  he  was  sober. 
This  test  is  a  crude  one.  but  quite  effec¬ 
tive.  At  the  word  “go”  Billy  started, 
carefully  balancing  himself  on  the  chalk 
mark.  I  never  saw  such  an  appealing 
face  on  any  human  being ;  as  .that  boy 
carried  through  that  test.  One  foot  wan¬ 
dered  a  little  from  the  line  as  he  slowly 
made  his  way.  As  a  man  I  have  serious 
doubts;  as  a  judge  I  gave  the  verdict  to 
Billy,  and  he  lost  no  time  in  climbing 
clumsily  upstairs  to  bed.  Mrs.  Baker 
was  a  just  woman,  but  she  was  not  one  to 
keen  her  sentiments  concealed. 
“Well.  I  have  my  doubts  about  it,  but 
if  teacher  says  so  I  agreed  to  take  his 
verdict.  But  now,  if  you  two  men  will 
follow.  I’ll  put  on  my  coat,  take  an  ax 
and  go  right  up  to  Benson’s  and  smash 
every  cider  barrel  he’s  got.” 
She  would  have  done  it,  too,  but  I’ll 
admit  that  John  and  I  did  not  quite  dare 
to  follow  her ! 
***** 
Billy  was  up  for  his  chores  in  the 
morning,  and  his  cousin  gave  him  a  full- 
sized  lecture  at  breakfast.  He  followed 
me  out  as  I  started  for  school : 
“Say,  teacher,  much  obliged  for  what 
you  done  last  night.  It  would  have  been 
the  barn  for  me  only  for  you !” 
Something  happened  at  school  that 
day — as  I  remember  it  some  prominent 
citizen  died.  At  any  rate  the  trustee 
came'  over  and  *told  me  to  close  school 
for  the  day,  and  the  scholars  went  home 
with  many  gleeful  shouts.  I  made  my 
way  back  to  Baker’s,  expecting  to  help 
John  husk  corn  through  the  afternoon. 
The  teacher  did  not  teach  agriculture  in 
those  days,  but  he  was  expected  to  prac¬ 
tice  farming.  Tilings  were  different  then. 
None  of  those-  farmers  expected  to  make 
much  money  at  farming.  The  farm  was 
the  home.  If  you  made  a  good  living 
paid  interest  and  taxes,  and  had  a  few 
hundred  dollars  ahead,  you  were  well 
satisfied — because  that  was  what  every¬ 
one  was  after.  Much  of  the  discontent 
at  farming  came  in  with  speculative  cash 
crops  and  trying  to  keep  step  with  town 
people. 
But  John  was  not  husking.  He  was 
“dickering”  with  a  man  who  had  driven 
out  from  town  to  try  to  buy  the  wood 
lot.  He  wanted  the  timber  and  would 
put  up  a  sawmill,  and  clear  the  whole 
thing  off.  It  seems  there  was  a  small 
mortgage  on  the  place,  and  John  and 
Vi.  wanted  to  pay  it  off,  and  build  an 
addition  to  their  house.  So  they  were 
“dickering.”  but  John  was  no  match  for 
this  wood  jockey,  and  I  think  he  would 
have  just  about  given  the  wood  away 
had  there  not  suddenly  come  a  human 
whirlwind  out  of  the  kitchen  door.  At 
least  that  is  what  it  seemed  as  Vi  Baker 
launched  herself  upon  us: 
“Now  then,  Hen  Belmont,  you  may 
fool  my  husband  with  your  meechin’ 
ways,  but  you  don’t  fool  me.  Not  a  stick 
of  that  timber  is  cut  till  I  sign  the  con¬ 
tract,  and  $1,800  is  the  price — no  less 
and  it  will  go  $100  for  every  five  minutes 
you  dawdle.  Now  teacher,  you  pull  out 
your  watch  and  time  him — if  he  waits 
five  minutes  the  price  is  $1,900!” 
So  I  solemnly  pulled  out  my  watch  to 
act  as  timekeeper.  The  truth  is  that  my 
old  watch  had  not  moved  a  hand  for  some 
weeks — but  that  was  a  small  matter. 
Hen  Belmont  knew  he  had  to  have 
that  timber.  He  had  really  contracted 
for  it,  but  it  was  not  in  his  make-up  to 
give  wav  easilv. 
“But  Mrs.  Baker—” 
“Don’t  you  but  me !  I'll  do  the  but¬ 
ting.  Just  as  sure  as  I  stand  here  when 
teacher’s  watch  says  five  minutes,  $1,900 
is  the  price.”. 
Hen  held  out  for  about  four  minutes, 
and  then  he  gave  way. 
“Well,  if  you  will  ruin  a  man,  do  it 
quick  so  he’ll  git  over  it  easy.  Come  in 
and  sign  the  papers.” 
So  we  all  went  inside  and,  as  the  lit- 
eray  member  of  the  group,  the  teacher 
drew  up  the  contract  which  all  three 
signed.  Vi  Baker  took  the  two  $50  bills 
which  “bound  the  bargain,”  and  hid  them 
inside  her  dress.  Hen  unhitched  his  horse 
and  drove  off  down  the  road,  while  John 
and  Vi  at  the  window  stood  watching 
him.  Then  a  strange  thing  happened. 
Little  Nellie  Baker  ran  between  her  par¬ 
ents  as  they  stood  by  the  window,  and 
took  them  each  by  the  hand.  I  remem¬ 
ber  how  the  sunshine  poured  in  over  the 
child’s  curly,  light  hair.  It  seemed  to  me 
that  she  was  glorified,  as  if  she  knew 
that  here  was  the  one  chance  to  bring 
her  parents  together  before  they  drifted 
fully  apart.  I  heard  her  talking: 
“Ma,  I  think  you’re  the  smartest,  woman 
I  ever  saw.  and  Pa,  I  think  you’re  the 
goodest  man  that  ever  lived.  I  don’t 
think  good  and  smart  ought  to  fight  all 
the  time.  Why  don’t  you  work  in  a 
team  like  our  black  horses  Dan  and 
Dolly?  Pa  says  Dan  could  pull  up  a 
tree,  but  when  you  want  the  doctor  quick 
you  always  take  Dolly.  Ain’t  it  so, 
teacher?” 
I  told  you  that  the  teacher,  when  he 
boarded  around,  had  all  sorts  of  prob¬ 
lems  put  up  to  him.  Here  was  my 
chance. 
“Nellie  is  right.  Mrs.  Baker.  You  and 
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