Classic Poem

“Have another cruller, Mis' Sanders.
You ain't eat nothin'.”

“They're proper good, Mis' Bixby,
But mdash'ly comin' down sick all of a suddin like that
Has took all th' relish out o' me.
I can't git a morsel down my throat.
My own brother's child, you know.
It ain't in th' fam'ly, Mis' Bixby.
We never had no spasms on our side.
'Course I ain't so sure 'bout her mother's people,
But I never heer'd o' nothin'.
I wish th' doctor'd come.
Waitin's awful tryin'.”

“Guess he'll be right along now.
Len took his sorrel mare,
An' th' roads is beat down fine fer sleighin'.”

“Do you think she really saw anythin', Mis' Bixby?”

“Laws, no! Ther' wa'n't nothin' to see.”

“I dunno, o' course. I was up to my room,
Spickin' up my new bunnit fer meetin' termorrer,
When I heerd her scream.
I'm all shook up with th' sound of it;
I can't git it out o' my head.
Jest what was it happened, Mis' Bixby?
You was here, wasn't you?”

“Yes, I was here; but I wa'n't ther'—down cellar, I mean.
I heerd th' scream, too,
But 'fore I could git out o' th' rocker
She come stumblin' up th' cellar stairs
White as a dish-cloth.
‘He's ther'!’ she says,
‘He popped right out o' a apple-barrel
An' made faces at me.’
Then down she goes on th' floor in a faint.”

“Maybe 'twas one o' th' neighbors playin' tricks.”

“'Deed no, Mis' Sanders.
Nobody'd durst play any such a trick on mdash'ly.
Why't be murder.
She's most died o' these takin's a couple o' times.”

“Th' poor child! She never give so much as a hint in her letters.
An' me her father's own sister,
An' th' only blood relation she has in th' world, too.
I do wish that doctor'd come.”

“Now don't you fret.
He'll be right along.
An' Susan Ellen understands her real well.
But as to anythin' she might ha' seed,
She couldn't.
Why them barrels is chock full to th' brim,
An' shove so close ther' ain't 'nough room between 'mdash for a rat to pass 'thout gnawin'.
It's jest took her ag'in, that's all.
I'm afeer'd they'll have to put her away
One o' these days.”

“Has she been took often?”

“Five or six times, I guess.
Le' me see:
Ther' was th' Post Office.
She 'lowed she'd seed Si throw up a winder over th' shop.
She said he leaned out so fer he'd ha' fell
Only fer th' sill ketchin' him at th' waist
An' keepin' him danglin'.
'Twas 'nough to scare th' life out o' ye
T' hear her tell th' way he looked.
Mr. Jones was real kind.
He searched th' whole house himself.
But ther' wa'n't nobody ther'
'Cept Mrs. Jones and th' hired girl.
Then once when she was over to Stoneham,
Buyin' some 'lastic,
She went right over in a faint on th' counter,
An' when she come to,
She said 'twas Si was sellin' it to her.
'Course it wa'n't.
Why th' young man that 'tended her was right ther',
An' he didn't look no more like Si
Than I look like Drake's red bull.
He was ten years younger, fer one thing.
That's twice't I remember.
Then ther' was th' time in th' clo'es-yard,
And another in th' cars comin' from Boston.
Ther's been a good many,
First an' last.”

“Was she an' Si happy?”

“Happy as cranberries, I should say.
'Course Si was a kind o' quiet feller,
An' mdash'ly's al'ays been smart and lively.
But they hit it off nicely
'Spite o' th' diff'rence in disposition.”

“I s'pose ther' ain't no doubt he's dead?”

“Doubt! 'Course ther' ain't no doubt.
Why th' man was drowned.
Len was with him when't happened.”

“You don't say!”

“Oh, yes! Len was ther'.
Not that he seen it happen 'xactly.
'Twas this way.
They was cuttin' ice up to Breed's pond
That Winter.
All th' boys was at it,
But that night they'd all gone home
'Cept Len an' Si.
Them two was ambitious,
An' they was sort o' racin' each other with th' cuttin',
So they kep' on by lantern light
After th' others left.
Well, bimeby it got near supper time,
An' Len figgered he'd better be gettin' home.
So he hollered to Si,
An' started loadin' his things into th' sleigh.
Si didn't answer,
An' he hollered ag'in.
Then he started out over th' ice
Lookin' fer him.
Ther' was a patch o' open water
Where they'd cut th' ice clear away,
An' after Len'd been all over th' hard part
He got ther'.
Well, that water give him a turn.
'Twas jest skimmin' over ag'in
All 'cept one place,
An' he could see that wa'n't froze
'Cause th' wind ruffed it up
Jest as he got to it,
An' th' lantern light was all broke to bits
By th' waves.
Well, when Len seed that,
He give over huntin'.
He jest run fer th' sleigh
An' drove back home with his horse on th' gallop
An' scared up th' folks.
Th' whole town went out with tools an' grapples,
But 'twas all thick ice when they got to th' pond.
They couldn't find nothin'.
They searched th' woods,
But 'twan't no use.
Mr. Marvin, th' coroner
Said as how th' body would come up
When th' ice melted.
But it didn't.
Then he said it must ha' been Si's axe got caught
In th' weeds somehow an' held him down.
I forgot to tell you th' axe was gone.”

“Didn't they drag the pond?”

“They tried to,
But it's awful deep.
Anyhow they never found th' body.
But ther' ain't a mite o' doubt it's ther'.”

“How long after was it Len married mdash'ly?”

“Oh, goin' on a year and half, I guess.
Len felt dreadful 'bout th' whole thing.
He's one o' th' sens'tive sort,
An' he kep' blamin' himself
He hadn't kep' a watch on what Si was doin'.
He felt he wanted to make it up to mdash'ly some way.
So he used to go up ther' twice a day,
An' saw her firewood,
An' redd up her horses,
An' 'tend to things generally.
It made a lot o' trampin'
An' I 'spec they thought 'twould be easier if he jest stayed for keeps,
So they got married.”

“He took a good deal on himself, didn't he?”

“Well, I dunno.
mdash'ly hadn't had no spells then.
Ther' didn't seem no risk.”

“Good Land! Mis' Bixby.
What could ha' brought 'mdash on!
Our folks ain't never been subject to fits.”

“No, 'deed, Mis' Sanders,
Nor mdash'ly neither, fer as th' neighbors knew.
They come on all to onc't,
After she and Len'd been married a year or more.”

“It's awful strange 'bout th' body not floatin'.”

“Mr. Marvin said 'twas th' axe.”

“But you'd ha' s'posed he'd ha' let go o' th' axe
When he felt th' water sousin' over him.”

“I never thought o' that.
P'raps 'twas tied onto him somehow.”

“What would he want to tie his axe on fer?
Would he ha' drove home that way?”

“Laws Sakes! I dunno.
But if 'twa'n't fastened on him,
Why didn't he float clear?”

“That was what I was thinkin'.”

“Good Land o' God, Mis' Sanders!
You don't mean—”

“I don't mean nothin', Mis' Bixby.
I was jest thinkin'—
More hot water, Susan Ellen?
'Course, we'll have it in a jiffy.”