Arash-Ho'o'e

I

IT was eight o’clock of a December evening. Mr. Todd’s feet, which had been creaking on the wheel-hardened snow, now made no noise in the soft whiteness toward Rosina’s gate. The night was still, brilliant, tingling. So he came with muffled steps to Rosina’s gate.

Suddenly the stillness was shattered by a shout behind him, a roar and a wail, a rending burst followed by a cry, that went yearning up into the night toward the critical stars and the cold, silvery dark concave of sky, as if to symbolize the impetuous onrush of human life and its high, its unattaining aspirations.

‘Arash-ho’o’el’

‘Berry!’ said Mr. Todd mechanically, and paused with his hand on Rosina’s gate. ‘He’s sneezing on the bridge.’

Mr. Berry was a miller by trade. As he passed to and fro between the millhouse and the village, he always sneezed in crossing the bridge. There was an association fixed in habit, some mystical link between the mind and the mucous membrane, some mechanism that acted with precision and certainty. It was said, at one time or another, that it acted at the plank which was third from one end of the bridge and eighth from the other, but his fellow townsmen were not apt to consider so curiously. He was a man of settled ways. When they heard his roar and wild halloo, they thought mechanically, ‘Berry! He’s sneezing on the bridge.’ They set it down in their mental images of Mr. Berry along with his size and massive features, his heaviness and strength and slow manner; along with thoughts of the wet splashing mill-wheel and buzzing saw, the sifting yellow sawdust and piles of cleanly boards; along with the fact that he went to see Rosina on Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday nights.

’Arash-ho’o’e!’

‘Berry!’ said Mr. Todd, with his hand on Rosina’s gate. ‘He’s sneezing on the bridge.’

He wondered if Mr. Berry were going northward toward the mill-house, or coming southward to the village. Presently he heard the creaking of feet on the hard road, and soon Mr. Berry loomed up in the night. Mr. Todd made no motion or sound until Mr. Berry turned into the soft snow and arrived at the gate. Then he spoke with indignation.

‘You go away! It ain’t your night.’

‘I made up my mind,’ said Mr. Berry doggedly.

Mr. Todd danced from one foot to the other in helpless wrath. He was a small trifle of a man, but heavily muffled against the cold. His beard was thrust upward by his muffler and projected horizontally.

‘What’s come to you, Berry? Why don’t, you keep your night?’

‘I made up my mind,’ repeated Mr. Berry with his hand on the gate.

‘ It ain’t as if Rosina showed a leaning,’ said Mr. Todd plaintively. ‘But if she does laugh me to scorn, she does laugh you to scorn.’

'’T is true,’ said Mr. Berry; ‘though I’d have more tender feelings than to say it and thereby rub salt on human troubles. I always said your feelings wa’n’t tender.’

‘They be too!’ said Mr. Todd snappishly.

‘Not agonizing, Todd. No!’

‘They be too!’

Mr. Berry shook his head thoughtfully.

‘What I want to know,’ said Mr. Todd, ’is why you’re here on my night.’

‘Now,’ said Mr. Berry slowly, ‘you ’ve got to let me put it as it should be put, and you ought to take it as intended. I made up my mind by thinking this way. I says, why have I got heft, if not for advantage? Why was Todd made like fried bacon to look at and yet chirpy to hear. Every man has his gifts. There’s something about Rosina that coops in speech with me. I set dumb, and Todd sets sociable, for it’s the working of his gifts. And yet heft should have its right advantage. Now, I says, it’s come to this. If laying Todd over and spanking him before Rosina off-hand and easy, as if it was a common thing and a humorous thing, or if pulling up his pants leg, le’s say, only so far as to show him laughable, which is the advantage of heft — I says, it’ll be agonizing to Todd, but I’m a desperate man.’

Mr. Todd gasped and gurgled in his throat. When he could speak, he said in a stuffed voice, —

‘You ain’t going to do those things to me, Berry!’

‘I suppose it’ll be agonizing,’ said Mr. Berry thoughtfully.

‘Before Rosina,’ shrieked Mr. Todd.

’Why, it would n’t be any point except before Rosina. That’d be malice, and it ain’t malice, it’s just putting it to Rosina — ’

‘I won’t stand for it, Berry.’

‘Whereby,’ Mr. Berry persisted, ‘she’ll see the advantage of heft and conceive of you as laughable, and she’ll see the advantage of heft equals the advantage of chirpiness. I’ve thought it all out, Todd. Rosina likes to laugh, don’t she? After seeing you laughable, it ain’t likely she’d think of you serious thereafter, is it? No! Because she’d think of how you looked laughable then, would n’t she? It stands to reason, and it’s well thought out, though I may be a slow man. You can see yourself how she’ll laugh.’

Mr. Todd clung to the gate and thought of Rosina’s laughter. He beat his mittened fingers on his chest for warmth and for relief of a heart surcharged.

‘You’ve made a dreadful bad mistake there, Berry,’ he said at last. ‘I ain’t going to be sarcastic, I ’m a man that thinks of other folks’ feelings, I am. But that’s a foolish plan. My land, it’s a shallow one!’

‘What’s the matter with it?’ asked Mr. Berry angrily.

‘Make me laughable it would. But the idea of your not seeing it would make you laughable too! Ho, ho! Picture yourself doing such a scan’lous thing, do, now! How do you look? Rosina’d laugh us both to scorn.’

‘It’s so!’ said Mr. Berry weakly. ‘She would so!’

‘ Lucky for you I stopped you, Berry.’

‘Maybe it is, Todd. But what’ll I do? What else’ll I do?’

Mr. Todd stretched his mitten toward Mr. Berry, and his voice trembled.

‘You’re a shallow man, Berry. If I must help you out, I must, though it goes against the grain. You don’t see the real points of heft. It’s like this. A light-weighted man like me has to have smartness, and I have it; but in hefty men like you a woman looks for forwardness, and you ain’t got it. There’s a fact and there’s the trouble with you. You’ve got no forwardness. Where’d be the forwardness in misusing me? Do I scale a hundred and twenty pound? No, I don’t. Fiddle! You can see that, can’t you?’

‘How ’m I going to show forwardness?’

‘How can you, when you ain’t got any? Humph! Well, but if I was you — well — I’d watch when Rosina was n’t looking, and — then — no — Berry, it’s asking too much of me to show you how to get Rosina, and that to leave me grieving.’

‘What ’d you do, Todd?’

‘What ’s the use of my telling you? You would n’t do it.’

‘I would too!’

‘Well, when she wa’n’t looking— well — I ’d grip her sudden and hold on. She might wriggle; she might say, “ Le’ go! ” She might; I don’t deny it’s woman’s nature to speak out against man’s forwardness. And yet she will have forwardness in a hefty man.’

‘There’s pins in her belting,’ said Mr. Berry after a long silence.

‘Oh, if you ain’t got forwardness!’ sneered Mr. Todd.

‘ I have too got forwardness! ’

Mr. Berry opened the gate and walked on heavily in the snow. Mr. Todd followed, his beard bristling out over his muffler, and above his beard his sharply pointed nose.

‘You might be friendly, Berry,’ said Mr. Todd, ‘seeing what I’ve done for you.’

‘I’m friendly, Todd, but I ain’t going to distract my mind.’

II

Rosina Rippon was a strong, plump, fair, round-eyed woman, breezy and joyful, whose single condition was not easily explained, unless by her upwelling sense of the ludicrousness of lovers. One by one they had fallen before her laughter, drawn in the horns of vanity, and gone their ways. Only Mr. Berry and Mr. Todd persisted: Mr. Berry because of a certain unchanging continuance in his nature, Mr. Todd because of a certain faith he had in the victory of intelligence. Their rivalry had become a habit, with boundaries and customs, such as the claim of Mr. Todd to Monday, Wednesday, and Friday nights, of Mr. Berry to Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday nights. Mr. Todd sometimes encroached. Mr. Berry had never objected. He had never encroached himself, before the cold December night when they stood together on Rosina’s porch, and Mr. Todd knocked at the door and kicked impatient feet, and Mr. Berry concentrated his mind.

‘It’s not your night, Mr. Berry! Ha! ha!’ Rosina laughed in the doorway; ‘ it’s Mr. Todd’s. Come in, both of you.’

The fire burned cosily in the round stove. White-and-blue teacups stood in their saucers on the table beside the sofa; the sofa was between the stove and a door which led through a passageway into the kitchen. Mr. Todd undid his muffler, showing a clever peaked face, and chatted sociably with Rosina. He sat on the sofa, Mr. Berry on the other side of the stove, buried in gloomy thought.

‘Why don’t you say something, Mr. Berry?’ said Rosina at last.

’Berry ain’t got any confidence,’said Mr. Todd pleasantly. ‘It’s laughable in a man of his size, and shows a feeble spirit, He ’s timid, and that’s a sorry sight in a hefty man.’

’What’s he afraid of?' asked Rosina.

‘Afraid he might do something unbecoming.’

‘Nonsense!’ laughed Rosina.

‘So I tell him. And yet a feeble spirit, can’t be heartened.’

‘You le’ me alone,’ growled Mr. Berry.

‘The more heft of bone a man has the more laughable he shows,’ went on Mr. Todd thoughtfully, ‘if his spirit’s feeble; and a feebler spirit than Berry’s I never saw,’

‘No gumption?’ said Rosina.

‘Not a bit!’

Mr. Berry glared at Mr. Todd.

‘I don’t believe it!’ laughed Rosina. ‘ It’s too bad! ’

She went into the passage which led to the kitchen, to get hot water for the tea. Mr. Berry listened to her steps in the passage, then rose, and with sinister tread approached Mr. Todd, who slid deftly behind the sofa.

' I was putting heart into you, Berry,’ he pleaded. ‘Can’t you see a thing?’

‘You called me a feeble spirit,’ said Mr. Berry hoarsely.

‘She’s in the kitchen now, Berry,’ Mr. Todd whispered. ‘She’ll be coming through the passage; now’s the time. Perk up, Berry!’

Mr. Berry hesitated. Mr. Todd stepped behind and pushed him.

‘You get back of the kitchen door.'

‘Le’ me alone!’

‘Forwardness, Berry! Forwardness! Hefty men’s got to have it.’ Mr. Todd was breathless with pushing.

Mr. Berry, slowly yielding, disappeared in the dark passage, and Mr. Todd sat down on a sofa by the door, panting. He heard the heavy breathing of Mr. Berry in the passage, and the sounds of Rosina’s industry in the kitchen. He rubbed his knuckles and beat his feet on the carpet. His mouth worked, his beard bristled forward. He leaned his head on one side, hearkened, and smiled. The wooden clock on the mantel behind the stove ticked monotonously, mocking his impatience. He heard the sound of Rosina’s steps in the passage. He sprang to his feet.

There was a shriek, a trampling, and Rosina entered in the air, not projected, but held aloft. Mr. Berry’s anxious face, red with effort and emotion, glowed above her like a storm sun above the struggling storm. She brandished the teapot in her hand.

‘Put me down,’ she cried, ‘or I’ll —' ‘Shame, Berry! Shame!’ cried Mr. Todd solemnly, with uplifted hands. ‘How your actions do disgust my soul! ’

‘You impudent man!’ cried Rosina. ‘I’ll—’

‘Berry! Berry!’ protested Mr. Todd. ‘Show respect! And you pretending to admire her! Oh, the shamelessness of it!’

‘I’ll pour tea on you!’ shrieked Rosina.

She poured hot tea wildly on Mr. Berry’s hands. Mr. Berry groaned and set her down. Rosina raged.

‘Go away! — Don’t you ever come here again! The idea!’

‘I’m afraid it’s no more’n you deserve, Berry,’ said Mr. Todd sadly. ‘Disrespect ought n’t to be forgiven. I’m afraid you ’re a violent man, Berry. Maybe a low-minded man.’

Mr. Berry stood dumb, and solid as a column. A scorching sense of wrong flowed over his soul, hot as the tea on his hands. He turned slowly to Mr. Todd.

‘Did n’t you tell me—?’ he began.

‘Did n’t I tell you to go away? ’ cried Rosina, stamping.

‘You said they liked forwardness in a hefty man,’ went on Mr. Berry doggedly, moving toward Mr. Todd.

‘You said she might wriggle and she might say, “Le’ go!” but you said, “Hold on!” You said she’d like it. And she don’t! You said, “ Now’s the time!” You said—’

‘Berry, you’re a feeble spirit,’ said Mr. Todd, shaking his head, and backing anxiously away.

‘You said — ’

‘Will you go!’ cried Rosina.

Mr. Berry said nothing, but grasped Mr. Todd’s shoulder, and silently urged him toward the outer door. Mr. Todd struggled and remonstrated. Rosina began to laugh.

‘Le’ me go, Berry!’ pleaded Mr. Todd, vainly holding back against grim propulsion. Mr. Berry thrust him through the door, across Rosina’s porch, and into the snow. The stars twinkled merrily through Rosina’s leafless trees, and the snow lay white, soft, and deep in her dooryard. Up and down the village street dimly-lit windows looked at them askance with red cordial smiles.

‘Ha! ha! ha!’ laughed Rosina. Mr. Berry, holding Mr. Todd down, with slow circular motion, with conscientious care, rubbed Mr. Todd’s face with snow. Mr. Todd kicked here and there and made vague noises. Mr. Berry rubbed on. Rosina ran across the porch. Mr. Berry gathered more snow and continued.

‘Stop!’ cried Rosina.

Mr. Berry rose, but Mr. Todd lay still.

‘Oh, you’ve hurt him!’ cried Rosina pitifully. ‘Get up, Mr. Todd!’

He did not move. She knelt in the snow beside him.

‘I’m a goner,’ he said feebly. ‘My vitals!’

III

Rosina lifted him tenderly, and carried him lightly indoors. Mr. Berry stood still a moment hesitating. Then he followed indoors, brushing the snow carefully from his shoes. He closed the door, and looked with suspicion at Mr. Todd, who moaned on the sofa, while Rosina hovered over him with ministrations, with indignant cries.

‘Oh, Mr. Todd!’

Mr. Berry sat down in his former place, on the other side of the stove, and stared at the glow in the damper.

‘I’m a goner,’ whispered Mr. Todd. ‘I ought to have warned you against Berry. He’s showed you what he is. He’s a desperate man, he is. Though I speak with my last breath I’d bear no malice, but I ought to’ve said so before, but it would n’t have looked right when he was sitting up with you off and on nights, for I’m a fair man up to my poor lights. He’s showed himself now.’

‘You’re a good man, I do believe, Mr. Todd,’ murmured Rosina.

‘It heartens me to hear you. Maybe I’ll get over this.’

‘Of course you will.’

‘Sometime, I dare say. But oh, the sufferings! ’

‘Have some tea, Mr. Todd, do!’

‘Oh! Maybe it would hearten me.’

Rosina turned sharply to Mr. Berry.

‘ If you’ve got any decency you can bring me the teapot. It’s on the stove. ’

Mr. Berry rose from behind the stove, and lifted the teapot. It was shaped and colored like a cocoanut shell. He came to the table on which stood four blue-and-white cups in their saucers. Rosina was leaning over with her back to him, pushing pillows down affectionately behind Mr. Todd. Mr. Todd groaned with fluttering breath. Then he looked up at Mr. Berry, groaned again—and winked, sarcastic, triumphant.

Mr. Berry stopped and stared. Mr. Todd dropped his head forward. The thawed snow dripped from his hair on the pillows. His coat-collar bulged out from his neck.

‘Do you feel worse, Mr. Todd?’ asked Rosina.

‘Tongue could n’t tell it, but I’m a patient man.’

‘Indeed you are!’

‘And a forgiving man,’ he whimpered, ‘ only mashed vitals do try the spirit.’

‘How do you feel now? ’

‘Faint,’ whispered Mr. Todd; ‘sort of passing away.’

‘ Will you pour that tea, Mr. Berry! ’

Mr. Berry made a noise in his throat, like the sound of a shot bolt, locking the door of resolution. He leaned forward, and poured a stream of hot tea down the opening between Mr. Todd’s collar and neck.

Mr. Todd yelled, and leaped, bumping Rosina’s chin in his uprising. He ran into the middle of the room, and there stopped, clutching at his back, recollecting, considering the case. He felt the heat of the tea diminishing.

‘It’s the same tea she poured on me,’ said Mr. Berry. ‘ It ain’t on the boil, Todd, and it’s heartening. Keeps a man from passing away.’

‘What — what happened?’ asked Rosina, rubbing her chin.

‘I did let it out sort of careless,’ said Mr. Berry apologetically; ‘some of it went down his neck, I don’t deny it!’

‘You did it a purpose!’ said Mr. Todd bitterly, putting on his overcoat.

‘Oh, ha ha ha!’ laughed Rosina.

‘Why, I made up my mind, to be sure,’ said Mr. Berry slowly. ‘To be sure, I made up my mind. We’ve give her a sight of enjoyment, Todd, and it’s no more’n reasonable —’

‘ Go away! ’ gasped Rosina. ‘ Both of you, or I shall die!’

Mr. Todd moved to the outer door, and opened it.

‘ I ain’t going to be misused by any man,’ he said angrily, and slammed the door behind him.

‘Both of you!’ cried Rosina. ‘Ha ha ha!’

Mr. Berry continued heavily, —

— ‘no more’n reasonable. For Todd said a man ought to be forward if he’s hefty —’

‘ Go away! ’

— ‘or else I would n’t be so forward as to mention, if you was to take out the pins from the belting, or neighborhoods where they do harm —’

‘Well, I never!’

— ‘ whereas hooks and eyes, or buttons, or provided it was safety-pins, there ain’t any harm in them, but those with points discourage a man’s spirit when he’s feeling forward as a hefty man should — ’

Rosina waved her hand helplessly toward the door.

— ‘and you ought n’t to think I’ve got no forwardness, because I hev got forwardness; but mortifications have ate into me like a buzz-saw!’

‘Goodness!’ said Rosina. ‘Have they?’

— ‘and yet being laughed at, nor hot tea, ain’t the equal of pins in the belting to discourage the spirit and take the edge of man’s intentions like a nail in a log.’

‘Oh, go away!’ sighed Rosina.

‘So if it ain’t more’n reasonable, if you’d take the pins out of the belting, I guess I could get along hereafter.’

And Mr. Berry departed soberly.

Rosina stood reflecting a moment, then went to the door, opened it, and stood on the step. The night air was biting. The snow sparkled in the starlight. Far away to the right she could see the retreating form of Mr. Todd, as he passed from glimmer to glimmer of lit windows that were close to the street. To the left there were no lit windows, and the white road sloped toward the distant bridge. Mr. Berry’s steps creaked steadily away on the wheel-hardened snow.

She looked at the spot below her, where the snow was flattened — where Mr. Todd had resisted and contrived while Mr. Berry had rubbed his face with a circular motion. She laughed again.

Mr. Todd and Mr. Berry each heard her. Each paused a moment, shook his head doubtfully, and went on.

Rosina turned back into the house. She poured out the remaining tea into a blue-and-white teacup.

‘I never was hoisted before!’ she thought, sipping the tea and sighing. The wooden clock on the mantelpiece ticked monotonously. Suddenly it struck nine. ‘By the way!’ it seemed to say, and struck nine.

Now, in the distance without, she heard Mr. Berry’s vast far shout and following cry, vague and pathetic — the roar, then the high, melancholy wail.

‘Arash-ho’o’e!’

‘Berry!’ she thought; ‘he’s sneezing on the bridge;’ and sighed again, and sipped her tea. ‘It. would be convenient to hark for, when he came home to meals,’ she thought. ‘I guess I’ll see about the pins.’

‘Berry!’ thought Mr. Todd at the other end of the village. ‘He’s sneezing on the bridge.’