Kilo. Ellis Parker Butler
the reason why I don't want to sell you a copy of the world-famous volume. You ain't nowhere near it at all. If I was to tell you what the reason was I guess you'd be surprised. But I ain't going to tell you. It ain't because you can't pay for it, for if it was a library of one thousand volumes at ten dollars a volume, ten dollars down and ten dollars a month, I'd be glad to take your order. And it ain't because I ain't going to sell any more copies here, because I am, and I'm going to sell all I can, right here at this picnic, just to show you what I can do when I try. But I ain't going to sell you one. I've got a good reason.”
Miss Sally was not fully pacified by this, for now she was sure she had guessed the reason Eliph' Hewlitt did not want to sell her a copy. She imagined now that some book agent had told him of her father's aversion to books—when they had to be paid for—and that Eliph' Hewlitt was willing to forego a sale rather than lead her into new trouble with her father. Possibly he had met the Walter Scott man. She turned away.
“I guess I'll go and help Mrs. Smith lay out the lunch,” she said, as the easiest way to be rid of the annoyance.
“I guess I'll go, too,” said Eliph' Hewlitt promptly and cheerfully. “I'm a good hand at that. It tells all about it in Jarby's Encyclopedia. Look under 'P': 'Picnic Lunches. Picnic, How to Organize and Conduct. Picnic, Origin of,' et cetery, et cetery. A book that contains all the knowledge in the world condensed into one volume, with lives of all the world's great men, from Adam to Roosevelt, and the dying words of them that is dead.”
Miss Sally turned on him sharply.
“Goodness sakes!” she exclaimed, “I wish you would either sell me a copy of that book or keep still about it. Ain't I going to have no peace at all?”
“I didn't mention it, did I?” asked Eliph' Hewlitt innocently, and he did not know that he had. “I was speaking of this happy gathering. Ain't it pretty to see all kinds of folks gathered together this way to make each other happier? It's like a living Jarby's Encyclopedia of Knowledge and Compendium of Literature, Science and Art, a little of everything in one volume, and all of it good. All the good things from parson to pickles. I suppose you put up your own pickles, don't you?”
“Yes, I do,” said Miss Sally, who was now walking toward where the ladies were unpacking the lunch. “Why do you ask it?”
“It called to my mind the recipe for making pickles that is in Jarby's Encyclopedia,” said Eliph', unmindful of the look of anger that flushed Miss Sally's face at the mention of that book. “Them that has tried it says it is the best they have ever used. That and seven hundred and ninety-nine other tested recipes, all contained in the chapter called 'The Complete Kitchen Guide,' see page 100, including roasts, fries, pastry, cakes, bread, puddings, entrées, soups, how to make candy, how to clean brass, copper, silver, tin, et cetery, et cetery. Them that uses Jarby's tested recipes as given in this volume, uses no other.”
There was a stiffening of Miss Sally's back as she walked ahead of him, and even Eliph' Hewlitt could not fail to observe it. It told plainly that if he could have seen her lips he would have seen them close firmly, and he made haste to reassure her.
“I ain't trying to sell you a book,” he said, taking a quicker step to reach her side, but she hurried the more as he did so, and crowded in among the other women so that he could not follow. He stood a moment watching her, but she began talking rapidly to one of the women, ignoring him conspicuously, and he coughed gently behind his hand, as if to apologize for her affront, and then walked away.
He could not account for his poor success in getting well acquainted with Miss Sally, and he began to fear that he had not fully understood the directions given by Jarby's Encyclopedia in the chapter on “Courtship—How to Win the Affections.” He realized that he had used that chapter less often in talking up a sale than he had used any other, and that for that reason he had studied it less closely, and he saw now, more than ever, that there was no chapter in the whole book that a possessor could afford to neglect. He walked over to where the minister was still holding the book, but now holding it closed in his lap, and he asked politely if he might have it for a few minutes. The minister handed it to him, and Eliph', walking to where one of the smaller trees of the grove made a spot of shade, seated himself, and fixed his eyes on the chapter on “Courtship—How to Win the Affections.”
For the first time in his life he was unable to fix his attention firmly on the pages of Jarby's Encyclopedia. His eyes insisted on turning to where Miss Sally moved about the cloth spread on the grass; the tablecloth on which green bugs and black bugs and brown bugs were already parading, as bugs always do at a picnic. Occasionally he stroked his sandy-gray whiskers, and whenever she turned her face in his direction he cast his eyes upon his book, but he could not read.
He hoped he would have the good fortune to be seated next to Miss Sally when the lunch time came, and he had little doubt that he would be near her, for it was likely that he and she, being strangers, would be put near the minister. He closed the book, seeing at length that it was impossible for him to read it, and, as the men began to bring the cushions from the buggies and place them around the cloth, he arose and went to bring his own to add to the supply. As he reached the fence, a barefoot boy, mounted on a horse with no other saddle than a blanket, came galloping down the road, and stopped before him.
“Say,” said the boy, wide-eyed with importance, “is Sally Briggs in there?”
Eliph' said she was.
“Well, say,” said the boy, “she's got to go home to Kilo, right away. Her dad telephoned up, and he don't know whether he's dying or not, and she's got to go right home.”
Eliph' turned and hurried to where Miss Sally was standing.
“I hope it ain't nothing serious, Miss Briggs,” he said, “but that boy has come to give you a message that come by telephone. I think your father ain't well.”
Miss Sally dropped the cake she was holding, and ran to the fence.
“What is it?” she gasped.
“Well,” said the boy, “my dad was in the post office just now, and the telephone bell rang, and he looked around to see where Julius was, and Julius he had gone outside to see what Mr. Fogarty, from up to the Corners, wanted. I don't know what he wanted. Pa didn't tell me. I don't know as pa knew, anyway, but I guess he wanted something, or else he wouldn't have motioned Julius to go out, unless he just wanted to talk to Julium. Mebby he just wanted to ask Julius if there was any mail for him. So pa answered the telephone.”
“Well, what did it say?” asked Miss Sally impatiently.
“You've got a pa, haven't you?” asked the boy.
“Yes,” said Miss Sally.
“Well, has he got false teeth?” asked the boy.
“Yes,” said Miss Sally more impatiently.
“Well, that's all right, then,” said the boy. “Pa couldn't tell exactly whether it was false teeth or not, the telephone at the post office works so poor, and pa ain't no hand at it, anyhow. He said it sounded like false teeth. So you pa wants you to come right home to Kilo. Mebby he's dying.”
“Dying!” cried Miss Sally, as white as a sheet.
“Yes, mebby he is,” continued the boy. “He ain't right sure, but he says you'd better come right home, so if he IS dying you'll be on hand. And, if he ain't, you can help him hunt for them. He says he went to bed last night, same as always, but he don't recall whether he took out his false set of teeth or left them in, and he ain't sure whether he swallowed them last night, or put them down somewheres and lost them. He says he's got a pain like he swallowed them, but he ain't sure but what it's some of the cooking he's been doing that give him that, and anyway he wants you to come right home.”
“Goodness sakes!” exclaimed Miss Sally, “why don't he go see Doc Weaver?”
The boy shook his head.
“I don't know,” he said. “I guess pa didn't think to ask him that.