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W. D. Howells >> The Albany Depot
Roberts: "No, no. I asked her if she _was_ a cook."
Campbell: "Well, I'm glad the McIlhenys had too much sense to believe
that. They're happy, anyway. They're enjoying the hobble that you and
Agnes are in, with lofty compassion. They--hello! here's that fellow
coming back again!"
Roberts: "Who? Which? Where?" He starts nervously about, and confronts
Mr. McIlheny bearing down upon him with a countenance of provisional
severity.
McIlheny: "Just wan word more wid you, sor. Mrs. McIlheny has been
thinkun' it oover, and she says you didn't ask her if she was after
_seeun_ a cuke, but whether she was after _beun'_ a cuke? Now, sor,
which wahs ut? Out wfd ut! Don't be thinkun' ye can throw dust in our
eyes because we're Irishmen!" A threatening tone prevails in Mr.
McIlheny's address at the mounting confusion and hesitation in
Roberts. "Come! are ye deef, mahn?"
Roberts, in spite of Campbell's dumb-show inciting him to fiction:
"I--I--if you will kindly step apart here, I can explain. I was very
confused when I spoke to Mrs. McIlheny."
McIlheny, following him and Willis into the corner: "Fwhat made ye
take my wife for a cuke? Did she luke anny more like a cuke than yer
own wife? Her family is the best in County Mayo. Her father kept six
cows, and she never put her hands in wather. And ye come up to her in
a public place like this, where ye're afraid to spake aboove yer own
breath, and ask her if she's after beun' the cuke yer wife's engaged.
Fwhat do ye mane by ut?"
Roberts: "My dear sir, I know--I can understand how it seems
offensive; but I can assure you that I had no intention--no--no--" he
falters, with an imploring glance at Campbell, who takes the word.
Campbell: "Look here, Mr. McIlheny, you can appreciate the feelings of
a gentleman situated as my friend was here. He had to meet a lady whom
he had never seen before, and didn't know by sight; and we
decided--Mrs. McIlheny was so pleasant and kindly looking--that he
should go and ask her if she had seen a lady of the description he was
looking for, and--"
McIlheny: "Yessor! I can appreciate ahl _that._ But fwhy did he ask
her if _she_ was the lady? Fwhy did he ask her if she was a cuke?
That's what I wannt to know!"
Campbell: "Well, now, I'm sure you can understand that. He was
naturally a good deal embarrassed at having to address a strange lady;
his mind was full of his wife's cook, and instead of asking her if
she'd _seen_ a cook, he bungled and he blundered, and asked her--I
suppose--if she _was_ a cook. Can't you see that? how it would
happen?"
McIlheny, with conviction: "Yessor, I can. And I'll feel it an hannor
if you gintlemen will join me in a glass of wine on the carner, across
the way--"
Campbell: "But your train?"
McIlheny: "Oh, domn the thrain! But I'll just stip aboord and tell
Mrs. McIlheny I've met a frind, an' I'll be out by the next thrain,
an' I'll be back wid you in a jiffy." He runs out, and Campbell turns
to Roberts.
Roberts: "Good heavens, Willis! what are we going to do? Surely, we
can't go out and drink with this man?"
Campbell: "I'm afraid we sha'n't have the pleasure. I'm afraid Mrs.
McIlheny is of a suspicious nature; and when Mr. Mac comes back, it'll
be to offer renewed hostility instead of renewed hospitality. I don't
see anything for us but flight, Roberts. Or, _you_ can't fly, you poor
old fellow! You've got to stay and look out for that cook. I'd be glad
to stay for you, but, you see, I should not know her."
Roberts: "I don't know her either, Willis. I was just thinking whether
you couldn't manage this wretched man rather better alone. I--I'm
afraid I confuse you; and he gets things out of me--admissions, you
know--"
Campbell: "No, no! Your moral support is everything. That lie of mine
is getting whittled away to nothing; we shall soon be down to the bare
truth. If it hadn't been for these last admissions of yours, I don't
know what I should have done. They were a perfect inspiration. I'll
tell you what, Roberts! I believe you can manage this business twice
as well without me. But you must keep your eye out for the cook! You
mustn't let any respectable butter-ball leave the room without asking
her if she's the one. You'll know how to put it more delicately now.
And I won't complicate you with McIlheny any more. I'll just step out
here--"
Roberts: "No, no, no! You mustn't go, Willis. You mustn't indeed! I
shouldn't know what to do with that tipsy nuisance. Ah, here he comes
again!"
Campbell, cheerily, to the approaching McIlheny: "I hope you didn't
lose your train, Mr. McIlheny!"
McIlheny, darkly: "Never moind my thrain, sor! My wife says it was a
put-up jahb between ye. She says ye were afther laughun', and lukun'
and winkun' at her before this mahn slipped up to spake to her. Now
what do ye make of that?"
Campbell: "We were laughing, of course. I had been laughing at my
friend's predicament, in being left to meet a lady he'd never seen
before. You laughed at it yourself."
McIlheny: "I did, sor."
Roberts, basely truckling to him: "It was certainly a ludicrous
position."
Campbell: "And when we explained it, it amused your good lady too. She
laughed as much as yourself--"
McIlheny: "She did, sor. Ye're right. Sure it would make a cow laugh.
Well, gintlemen, ye must excuse me. Mrs. McIlheny says I mustn't stop
for the next thrain, and I'll have to ask you to join me in that glass
of wine some other toime."
Campbell: "Oh, it's all right, Mr. McIlheny. You've only got about
half a minute." He glances at the clock, and McIlheny runs out,
profusely waving his hand in adieu.
Roberts, taking out his handkerchief and wiping his forehead: "Well,
thank Heaven! we're rid of him at last."
Campbell: "I'm not so sure of that. He'll probably miss the train. You
may be sure Mrs. McIlheny is waiting for him outside of it, and then
we shall have them both on our hands indefinitely. We shall have to
explain and explain. Fiction has entirely failed us, and I feel that
the truth is giving way under our feet. I'll tell you what, Roberts!"
Roberts, in despair: "What?"
Campbell: "Why, if McIlheny should happen to come back alone, we
mustn't wait for him to renew his invitation to drink; we must take
him out ourselves, and get him drunk; so drunk he can't remember
anything; stone drunk; dead drunk. Or, that is, _you_ must. I haven't
got anything to do with him. I wash my hands of the whole affair."
Roberts: "You mustn't, Willis! You know I can't manage without you.
And you know I can't take the man out and get him drunk. I couldn't. I
shouldn't feel that it was right."
Campbell: "Yes, I know. You'd have to drink with him; and you've got
no head at all. You'd probably get drunk first, and I don't know what
I should say to Agnes."
Roberts: "That isn't the point, Willis. I couldn't ask the man to
drink; I should consider it immoral. Besides, what should you do if
the cook came while I was away? You wouldn't know her."
Campbell: "Well, neither would you, if you stayed."
Roberts: "That's true. There doesn't seem to be any end of it, or any
way out of it. I must just stay and bear it."
Campbell: "Of _course_ you must stay. And when McIlheny comes back,
you'd better ask him out to look upon the wine when it is red."
Roberts: "No; that's impossible, quite. I shouldn't mind the
association--though it isn't very pleasant; but to offer drink to a
man already--Do you suppose it would do to ask him out for a glass of
soda? Plain soda would be good for him. Or I could order claret in
it, if the worst came to the worst."
Campbell: "Claret! What Mr. McIlheny requires is forty-rod whiskey in
a solution of sulphuric acid. You must take that, or fourth-proof
brandy straight, with him."
Roberts, miserably: "I couldn't; you know I couldn't."
Campbell: "What are you going to do, then?"
Roberts: "I don't know; I don't know. I--I'll give him in charge to a
policeman."
Campbell: "And make a scandal here?"
Roberts: "Of course it can't be done!"
Campbell: "Of _course_ it can't. Give a councilman in charge? The
policeman will be Irish too, and then what'll you do? You're more
likely to be carried off yourself, when the facts are explained.
They'll have an ugly look in the police report."
Roberts: "Oh, it can't be done! Nothing can be done! I wish Agnes
would come!"
The Colored Man who calls the Trains: "Cars ready for South
Framingham, Whitneys, East Holliston, Holliston, Metcalf's,
Braggville, and Milford. Express to Framingham. Milford Branch. Track
No. 3."
V
_MRS. ROBERTS, MRS. CAMPBELL, ROBERTS, AND CAMPBELL; THEN THE COOK AND
McILHENY_
Mrs. Roberts, rushing in and looking about in a flutter, till she
discovers her husband: "Good gracious, Edward! Is that our train? I
ran all the way from the station door as fast as I could run, and I'm
perfectly out of breath. Did you ever hear of anything like my meeting
Amy on the very instant? She was getting out of her coupe just as I
was getting out of mine, and I saw her the first thing as soon as I
looked up. It was the most wonderful chance. And the moment we pushed
our way through the door and got inside the outer hall, I heard the
man calling the train--he calls so distinctly--and I told her I was
sure it was our train; and then we just simply flew, both of us. I had
the greatest time getting my plush bag. They were all locked up at
Stearns's as tight as a drum, but I saw somebody inside, moving about,
and I rattled the door, and made signs till he came; and then I said I
had left my plush bag; and he said it was against the rules, and I'd
have to come Monday; and I told him I knew it was, and I didn't expect
him to transgress the rules, but I wished very much to have my plush
bag, because there were some things in it that I wished to have, as
well as my purse; for I'd brought away my keys in it; and I knew
Willis--how d'ye do, Willis?--would want wine with his dinner, and
you'd have to break the closet open if I didn't get the key; and so he
said he would see if the person who kept the picked-up things was
there yet; and it turned out he was, and he asked me for a description
of the bag and its contents; and I described them all, down to the
very last thing; and he said I had the greatest memory he ever saw.
And now I think everything is going off perfectly, and I shall be able
to show Amy that there's something inland as well as at the seaside.
Why don't you speak to her, Edward? What is the matter? What are you
looking at?" She detects him in the act of craning his neck to this
side and that, and peering over people's heads and shoulders in the
direction of the door. "Hasn't Norah--Bridget, I mean--come yet?" She
frowns significantly, and cautions him concerning Mrs. Campbell by
pressing her finger to her lip.
Roberts: "Yes--yes, she's here; I suppose she's--she's here. How do
you do, Amy? So glad--" He continues his furtive inspection of the
door-way, and Willis turns away with a snicker.
Mrs. Campbell: "Willis, what are you laughing at? Is there anything
wrong with my bonnet? Agnes, _is_ there? He would let me go about
looking like a perfect auk. Did I bang it getting out of the coupe. Do
tell me, Willis!"
Mrs. Roberts, to her husband: "You don't mean to say you haven't
_seen_ her yet?"
Roberts, desperately: "Seen her? How should I know whether I've seen
her? I never saw her in my life."
Mrs. Roberts: "Then what are you looking for, in that way?"
Roberts: "I--I'm looking for her husband."
Mrs. Roberts: "Her husband?"
Roberts: "Yes. He keeps coming back." Campbell bursts into a wild
shriek of laughter.
Mrs. Roberts, imploringly: "Willis, what _does_ it mean?"
Mrs. Campbell, threateningly: "Willis, if you don't behave yourself--"
Mrs. Roberts, with the calm of despair: "Well, then, she isn't coming!
She's given us the slip! I might have known it! Well, the cat might as
well come out of the bag first as last, Amy, though I was trying to
keep it in, to spare your feelings; I knew you'd be so full of
sympathy." Suddenly to her husband: "But if you saw her husband--Did
he say she sent him? I didn't dream of her being married. How do you
know it's her husband?"
Roberts: "Because--because she went out and got him! Don't I tell
you?"
Mrs. Roberts: "Went out and got him?"
Roberts: "When I spoke to her."
Mrs. Roberts: "When you spoke to her? But you said you didn't see
her!"
Roberts: "Of _course_ I didn't see her. How should I see her, when I
never saw her before? I went up and spoke to her, and she said she
wasn't the one. She was very angry, and she went out and got her
husband. He was tipsy, and he's been coming back ever since. I don't
know what to do about the wretched creature. He says I've insulted his
abominable wife!"
Campbell, laughing: "O Lord! Lord! This will be the death of me!"
Mrs. Campbell: "This is one of your tricks, Willis; one of your vile
practical jokes."
Campbell: "No, no, my dear! I couldn't invent anything equal to _this_.
Oh my! oh my!"
Mrs. Campbell, seizing him by the arm: "Well, if you don't tell,
instantly, what it is--"
Campbell: "But I _can't_ tell. I promised Roberts I wouldn't."
Roberts, wildly: "Oh, tell, tell!"
Campbell: "About the cook, too, Agnes?"
Mrs. Roberts: "Yes, yes; everything! Only tell!"
Campbell, struggling to recover himself: "Why, you see, Agnes engaged
a cook, up-town--"
Mrs. Roberts: "I didn't want you to know it, Amy. I thought you would
be troubled if you knew you were coming to visit me just when I was
trying to break in a new cook, and so I told Edward not to let Willis
know. Go on, Willis."
Mrs. Campbell: "And I understand just how you felt about it, Agnes;
you knew he'd laugh. Go on, Willis."
Campbell: "And she sent her down here, and told Roberts to keep her
till she came herself."
Both Ladies: "Well?"
Campbell: "And I found poor old Roberts here, looking out for a cook
that he'd never seen before, and expecting to recognize a woman that
he'd never met in his life." He explodes in another fit of laughter.
The ladies stare at him in mystification.
Mrs. Roberts: "I would have stayed myself to meet her, but I'd left my
plush bag with my purse in it at Stearns's, and I had to go back after
it."
Mrs. Campbell: "She _had_ to leave him. What is there to laugh at?"
Mrs. Roberts: "I see nothing to laugh at, Willis."
Campbell, sobered: "You _don't_?"
Both Ladies: "No."
Campbell: "Well, by Jove! Then perhaps you don't see anything to laugh
at in Roberts's having to guess who the cook was; and going up to the
wrong woman, and her getting mad, and going out and bringing back her
little fiery-red tipsy Irishman of a husband, that wanted to fight
Roberts; and my having to lie out of it for him; and their going off
again, and the husband coming back four or five times between drinks,
and having to be smoothed up each time--"
Both Ladies: "No!"
Mrs. Roberts: "It was simply horrid."
Mrs. Campbell: "It wasn't funny at all; it was simply disgusting. Poor
Mr. Roberts!"
Campbell: "Well, by the holy poker! This knocks me out! The next time
I'll marry a man, and have somebody around that can appreciate a joke.
The Irishman said himself it would make a cow laugh."
Mrs. Campbell: "I congratulate you on being of the same taste, Willis.
And I dare say you tried to heighten the absurdity, and add to poor
Mr. Roberts's perplexity."
Roberts: "No, no! I assure you, Amy, if it hadn't been for Willis, I
shouldn't have known how to manage. I was quite at my wits' end."
Mrs. Campbell: "You are very generous, I'm sure, Mr. Roberts; and I
suppose I shall have to believe _you_."
Roberts: "But I couldn't act upon the suggestion to take the man out
and treat him; Willis was convinced himself, I think, that that
wouldn't do. But I confess I was tempted."
Mrs. Roberts: "Treat him?"
Roberts: "Yes. He was rather tipsy already; and Willis thought he
would be more peaceable perhaps if we could get him quite drunk; but I
really couldn't bring my mind to it, though I was so distracted that I
was on the point of yielding."
Both Ladies: "Willis!"
Mrs. Roberts: "You wanted poor Edward to go out and drink with that
wretched being, so as to get him into a still worse state?"
Mrs. Campbell: "You suggested that poor Mr. Roberts should do such a
thing as that? Well, Willis!"
Mrs. Roberts: "Well, Willis!" She turns from him more in sorrow than
in anger, and confronts a cook-like person of comfortable bulk, with a
bundle in her hand, and every mark of hurry and exhaustion in her
countenance. "Why, here's Bridget now!"
The Cook: "Maggie, mem! I was afraid I was after missun' you, after
all. I couldn't see the gentleman anywhere, and I've been runnun' up
and down the depot askun' fur um; and at last, thinks I, I'll try the
ladies' room; and sure enough here ye was yourself. It was lucky I
thought of it."
Mrs. Roberts: "Oh! I forgot to tell you he'd be in the ladies' room.
But it's all right now, Maggie; and we've just got time to catch our
train."
Campbell, bitterly: "Well, Agnes, for a woman that's set so many
people by the ears, you let yourself up pretty easily. By Jove! here
comes that fellow back again!" They all mechanically shrink aside, and
leave Roberts exposed to the approach of McIlheny.
McIlheny: "Now, sor, me thrain's gahn, and we can talk this little
matter oover at our aise. What did ye mane, sor, by comin' up to the
Hannorable Mrs. Michael McIlheny and askun' her if she was a cuke? Did
she luke like a person that'd demane herself to a manial position
like that? Her that never put her hands in wather, and had hilpers to
milk her father's cows? What did ye mane, sor? Did she luke like a
lady, or did she luke like a cuke? Tell me that!"
The Cook, bursting upon him from behind Roberts, who eagerly gives
place to her: "_I'll_ tell ye that meself, ye impidint felly! What's
to kape a cuke from lukun' like a lady, or a lady from lukun' like a
cuke? Ah, Mike McIlheny, ye drunken blaggurd, is it _me_ ye're tellin'
that Mary Molloy never put her hands in wather, and kept hilpers to
milk her father's cows! Cows indade! It was wan pig under the bed; and
more shame to them that's ashamed to call it a pig, if ye _are_ my
cousin! _I'm_ the lady the gentleman was lukin' for, and if ye think
I'm not as good as Mary Molloy the best day she ever stipped, I'll
thank ye to tell me who is. Be off wid ye, or I'll say something ye'll
not like to hear!"
McIlheny: "Sure I was jokin', Maggie! I was goun' to tell the
gintleman that if he was lukun' for a cuke, I'd a cousin out of place
that was the best professed cuke in Bahston. And I'm glad he's got ye:
and he's a gintleman every inch, and so's his lady, I dar' say, though
I haven't the pleasure of her acquaintance--"
The Colored Man who calls the Trains: "Cars ready for West Newton,
Auburndale, Riverside, Wellesley, Natick, and South Framingham. Train
for South Framingham. Express to West Newton. Track No. 5."
Mrs. Roberts: "That's our train, Amy' We get off at Auburndale.
Willis, Edward, Maggie--come!" They all rush out, leaving McIlheny
alone.
McIlheny, looking thoughtfully after them: "Sure, I wonder what
Mary'll be wantun' me to ask um next!"
THE END