The Brown Study Read online

  VIII

  BROWN'S BIDDEN GUESTS

  And now, promptly on the stroke of two, the dinner guests arrived, not aman or woman of them later than five minutes after. Even Mrs. Kelcey,though she had rushed into the kitchen two minutes earlier by the backdoor, now entered formally with Patrick, her husband, by the front, andonly the high flush on her cheek and the sparkle in her blue-black eyetold of a sense of her responsibilities.

  The company had put on its best for the occasion, there could be nopossible question of that. From the pink geranium in Mrs. Kelcey'shair just behind her ear, to the high polish of her husband's boots,the Kelceys were brave and fine. Mrs. Murdison, though soberly gownedin slate-coloured worsted, wore a white muslin kerchief which gave herthe air of a plump and comfortable Mother Superior. Mr. Murdison, theonly gentleman present who possessed a "suit of blacks," as he himselfwas accustomed to call it, came in looking like the Scottish preacherwhose grandson he was, and lent much dignity to the occasion merely byhis presence.

  There was a predominance of exquisitely ironed white "shirtwaists" amongthe costumes of the women, but as these were helped out by much elaborateand dressy neckwear of lace and ribbon the general effect wasunquestionably festive. The men were variously attired as to clothing,but every collar was immaculate--most of them had a dazzlingly brilliantfinish--and the neckties worn were so varied as to give the eye relieffrom possible monotony.

  In spite of Brown's genial greetings to his guests--he had a specialwelcoming word for every one--just at first there was a bit of stiffness.The men showed the customary tendency to support one another through thesocial ordeal by standing in a solid group in a corner of the room, handsbehind their backs and an air of great gravity upon their faces, whilethey spoke, if at all, in low and solemn tones. The women, on the otherhand, as ever, did their best to show themselves entirely at ease byaddressing, one after another, remarks to their host calculated toprevent his having any doubt as to the sort of weather now prevailingoutside or likely to prevail during the days to come.

  Brown, having anticipated this period of gloom before the feast shouldactually begin, had arranged with Mrs. Kelcey that as soon as the lastguest had arrived the company should sit down at the table. Mrs. Kelcey,true to her word, gave him the nod without the delay of more than aminute or two, and promptly the company seated itself. Brown, drawingback her chair for Mrs. Murdison, who as his most impressive guest he hadplaced upon his right, noticed, without seeming to notice, that thelittle watchmaker did the same for his wife, and with an effect of habit.Speaking of wives, the company being left to seat themselves according totheir own notion (Brown having considered the question of dinner cardsand discarded it), every man sat down beside his own wife, in someinstances being surreptitiously jerked into position by a carefulconjugal hand.

  Brown, looking about his table with a smile, bent his head. Every eyefell and every ear listened to the words which followed: "_Our Father,we are here in company with Thee and in warm friendliness with oneanother. We are thankful on this day that we are busy men and women, ableto do our work and to be useful in Thy world. Teach us to find in lifethe joy of living it to please Thee. Amen_."

  It was Mrs. Kelcey who broke the hush which followed, by starting fromher place to run out into the kitchen and bring on the dinner. From thismoment the peculiar fitness of Donald Brown for the duties of host showeditself. That his dinner should be stiff and solemn was not in hisintention, if the informality of his own conduct could prevent it. Hetherefore jumped up from his own place to follow Mrs. Kelcey to thekitchen and bring in the great platter for her, bearing the turkey in agarland of celery leaves, a miracle of luscious-looking brownness.

  He had considered the feasibility of serving at least one preliminarycourse, not so much because it seemed to him impossible to plunge atonce into the heartiness of fowl and stuffing as because he wanted toprolong the hour of dining for his guests. But Mrs. Kelcey had promptlyvetoed this notion.

  "Man, dear," she had said earnestly, "an' why would ye be shpoiling theappetoites of yer company with soup? Tis soup they know only toowell--but the turrkey! 'Tis manny a long year since Mrs. Murdison andAndy have tasted the loike of it, an' the same with the ithers. If'twas chickun, I'll warrant now--we're all glad to make a bit ofchickun go furrther with other things--but a grreat turrkey like thiswan--Give it to thim sthrait, Misther Brown, an' that's my advoice. Yecan take it or lave it."

  Brown had accepted this wise counsel, of course, and now saw the fullwisdom of it as he beheld the looks of veiled but hungry--one mightalmost have said starving--anticipation which fell upon the big turkey asit was borne to its place at the end of the table. "I don't know how anold bachelor is going to make out to carve before such a company," Brownsaid gaily, brandishing his carving knife. (This was a bit ofplay-making, for he was a famous carver, having been something of anepicure in days but one year past, and accustomed to demand and receivecareful service in his bachelor establishment.) "I wonder if I can manageit. Mr. Benson"--he addressed the old watchmaker--"what do you say totaking my place and helping me out? I'd hate to ruin the bird."

  "I say I'll not do it, Mr. Brown," responded old Benson. "Watch-making ismy business, and it's watch I'll make now of your carving."

  This brave attempt at a witticism brought a fine response, Brown's heartylaugh leading off. And now the ice began to be broken into smaller andsmaller bits. Brown's gay spirits, his mirth-provoking observations as hecarved the tender fowl, the way in which he appreciated the efforts ofhis guests to do their part, led them all to forget themselves in greateror less degree. When it came to the actual attacking of the piled-upplates before them, it is true that there ensued considerable significantsilence, but it was the silence of approval and enjoyment, not that offailure to be entertained.

  If it occurred to Brown to wish himself at some more exaltedfestival-making with more congenial associates on this Thanksgiving Day,no one would have dreamed it. To all appearances he was with his bestfriends, and if he did not partake of the toothsome meal before him withsuch avidity as they, it would have needed a more discerning person tohave recognized it than any one who sat at his board--at his boards, itmight be put, remembering Tim Lukens's achievement with the sawhorses.

  Tim, himself, was present, sober and subdued but happy. How it came aboutthat he had not drunk a drop for several weeks, none but Brown and Mrs.Lukens could have told. Tim's glance was often upon Brown's face--thelook in his eyes, now and then, reminded Brown of that in the eyes of hisdog Bim when he had earned his master's approval, shy but adoring.

  In spite of all there was to eat in that mighty first course of turkeyand stuffing and mashed white potatoes and sirup-browned sweet potatoes,and every possible accompaniment of gravy and vegetable and relish, notto mention such coffee as none of them had ever drunk, it all disappearedwith astonishing rapidity down the throats of the guests. How, indeed,can one mince and play with his food when he and his wife have not intheir lives tasted so many good things all at once, and when both havebeen prepared for the feast by many weeks and months--and years--ofliving upon boiled potatoes with a bit of salt pork, or even upon breadand molasses, when times were hard? Brown's neighbours were not of thevery poorest, by any means, but all were thriftily accustomed toself-denial, and there is no flavour to any dainty like that of havingseldom tasted but of having longed for it all one's life.

  When the second course had come and gone--it was composed entirely ofpies, but of such pies!--Brown surprised Mrs. Kelcey by going to acupboard and bringing out a final treat unsuspected by her. A greatbasket of fruit, oranges and bananas and grapes, flanked by a big bowl ofnuts cunningly set with clusters of raisins, made them all exclaim.Happily, they had reached the exclaiming stage, no longer afraid of theirhost or of one another.

  "It's reckless with his money he is, Patsy," whispered Mrs. Kelcey toher husband. "It'll take a power of it to pay for all o' thim, an'fruit so dear."

  "Whist, he knows what he's about," ret
urned Patrick Kelcey, uninclined toremonstrate with any man for giving him that unaccustomed and delightfulfeeling that his vest buttons must be surreptitiously unloosed or hewould burst them off. He helped himself lavishly as he spoke.

  By and by, when all had regretfully declined so much as anotherraisin--"Now we must have some music!" cried Brown. "Tim, did you bringyour fiddle?"

  Tim Lukens nodded. Carpentry was Tim's vocation, but fiddling was hisavocation and dear delight. He was presently fiddling away, while thecompany sat about, completely relaxed in spirit, and Mrs. Kelcey and Mrs.Murdison hustled the table clear of dishes, refusing sternly Brown'seager offer to help them. And now came the best time of all. Tim playedall the old tunes, and when he struck into "Kate Kearney" the company waselectrified to hear a rich and vibrant voice take up the words of thesong and sing them through to the end.

  Sitting carelessly on his pine-bottomed chair--it was one from theKelcey house--one hand in his pocket, his heavy hair tossed back and hislips smiling, Brown's splendid tones rang through the room and held hislisteners enthralled. Never had they heard singing like that. They couldhave no possible notion of the quality of the voice to which theylistened, but they enjoyed its music so thoroughly that the moment thesong was ended they were eager for another. So he sang them another andstill another, while the warm blood rolled in under his dark skin,enriching his thin cheek till it looked no longer thin. He was givinghimself up to the task of pleasing his friends, with thorough enjoymentof his own. After "Kate Kearney" he sang "Annie Laurie," making AndyMurdison's warm Scottish heart under his stiff Scottish manner beatthrobbingly in sympathy. So the hours passed, it never occurring to thecompany to go home as long as it was having the time of its life, untilthe sudden discovery of a row of boys' faces peering eagerly in from thedarkness of the late afternoon reminded Mrs. Kelcey that she had afamily at home.

  "The saints be prraised, 'tis afther darrk," said she, risingprecipitately, "and the bhoys promised the lavin's of the table!"

  They all followed her, suddenly grown shy again as they murmured theirthanks. Their host's cheery parting words eased them over this ordeal,however, and each one left with the comfortable feeling that he had saidthe right thing.

  Two minutes later the house was again invaded, this time by those whofelt entirely at home there. With a whoop of joy the boys of theneighbourhood took possession, and as they did so a curious thinghappened: Donald Brown himself became a boy among them.

  But this was not the only curious thing which happened.

  The sixteen guests at the dinner, in spite of the generous supplies, hadnot left many "lavin's." The great turkey had little remaining now uponhis bones and nothing at all inside of him; the potatoes and vegetableshad been entirely consumed; of the pies there remained a solitary wedge.But Brown, smiling broadly, attended to these difficulties. He had theair of a commissary who knew of unlimited supplies.

  "Tom," he commanded, "pick three boys and go down cellar with them, andinto the little storeroom at the right."

  Tom, grinning, made a lightning-like selection of assistants, and dovedown the steep and narrow stairway from the kitchen.

  "Burke and Jimpsey, explore the cupboard opening from my bedroom, andbring out whatever you find there that looks good to eat."

  Before the words were out of his mouth Burke and Jimpsey had disappeared.

  "Tub and Jiggers, look under my bed, and haul out a long box you'llfind there."

  The two fell over each other to do his bidding. In less time than ittakes to tell it, the emissaries were returning with their spoils. Awhole cooked turkey, only slightly inferior in size to the original one,appeared to the accompaniment of howls of joy. It was cold, to be sure,but what boy would mind that--and to the critical palate is not coldturkey even more delicious than hot? There were piles and piles ofsandwiches with the most delectable filling, there were pies and morepies, and there were fruit and cake and candy. Brown had not feared lestthese later guests suspect him of too long a purse; he had orderedwithout stint, and his orders had been filled by a distant firm ofcaterers and sent by express.

  Now there were girls in the neighbourhood as well as boys. By amysterious invitation they had been summoned to the home of one of theirnumber, a small cripple, and were there at the very moment rejoicing inall manner of festivities. Nobody knew how it had happened, nor where thegood things came from, except the little girl who was their hostess, andwild horses could not have dragged the wonderful secret from her. Brownhimself, making merry with his boys, remembered the girls with acomfortable feeling at his heart that for once, at least, a goodly numberof people, young and old, were happier than they had ever been before intheir lives on Thanksgiving Day.

  As for his own immediate entertaining the revel now began--no lesser worddescribes it. If, before the departure of his dinner guests, Brown hadexperienced a slight feeling of fatigue, it disappeared with the pleasureof seeing his present company disport themselves. They were not in theleast afraid of him--how should they be, when he had spent months in thewinning of their confidence and affection by every clever wile known tothe genuine boy lover? That they respected him was plainly shown by thefact that, ill trained at home as most of them had been, with him theynever overstepped certain bounds. At the lifting of a finger he couldcommand their attention, though the moment before their boisterousnesshad known no limits.

  If the earlier guests had been surprisingly rapid in their consumption ofthe dinner, these later ones were startlingly so. Like grain before aflock of hungry birds, like ice beneath a bonfire, the viands, lavishlyprovided though they had been, melted away in almost the twinkling of aneye. And it was precisely as the last enormous mouthful of cherry pievanished down Jiggers Quigg's happy throat that the unexpected happened.