The Touch of Abner. H. A. Cody
nor anyone of his brood."
Isaac Dimock was a little man, but what he lacked in size he tried to make up in pompousness. "It seems to me," Abner once said, "that the Lord got somehow mixed up when he was makin' Ikey Dimock. It is sartin' sure, judgin' from Ikey's ears and brains, that he intended him to be a jackass. But He must have changed his mind, an' finished him up as a man, but a mighty poor job He made of it. It's quite clear that Ikey stopped growin' too soon. The only pity is that he ever grew at all."
Between these two men there had never been any love lost. Abner despised Isaac for his meanness, underhandedness, and pompousness, while Isaac hated Abner for his sharp tongue and biting sarcasm. They seldom met without a wordy battle of one kind or another. They never came to blows, as the hardware merchant had considerable respect for the farmer's great strength and big fists, one of which, on a certain memorable occasion, had been doubled up dangerously near his stub of a nose.
But Isaac seemed to have forgotten and forgiven all animosities as he now drew near. His face was contorted with a smile, such as a wolf might assume when about to pounce upon a lamb.
"How are you, Abner?" he accosted. "Fine day this."
"Why, so it is," and Abner gazed around in apparent astonishment, "I hadn't thought about it before. It's good of ye to come an' tell me."
"You work too hard," the visitor replied, unheeding the sarcasm. "You don't take time to notice the beautiful things around you."
"H'm," Abner grunted. "It takes all my spare minutes tryin' to wring a livin' out of this darn place. Have to keep me nose to the ground most of the time."
"I should say so," and Isaac cast his eyes around until they rested upon the big gravel hill to his right. "Pretty light ground, eh?"
"Light! Should say it is. Why, it's so light I have to keep the place anchored or it 'ud go up like a balloon."
"Ha, ha, it certainly must be light. Rather dangerous, isn't it?"
"Oh, I'm not the least bit afraid of what old Mother Nature does. She's pretty reliable, an' doesn't do any kinky tricks. Ye kin ginerally depend upon her. But it's human nature on two legs that I'm suspicious of."
Isaac cast a swift glance at the farmer in an effort to interpret the meaning of his words. But Abner's face was perfectly placid as he leaned upon his hoe and surveyed his garden.
"Why are you suspicious of human nature?" Isaac enquired.
"'Cause it's allus tryin' to undermine one, that's why. Now look here, I work this place, plant seeds, fight frost, bugs, cutworms, crows, an' dear knows what all. Then I take me produce to town, an' give it away. Yes, actually give it away, fer I don't make enough profit to keep a shirt on a flea. But when them storekeepers sell the stuff which caused me so much work an' anxiety they make big profits. They call it bizness; but I call it robbery. Is it any wonder that I'm suspicious of human nature on two legs?"
"It certainly is discouraging," Isaac blandly purred. He was thinking of his own big profits in hardware. "It is a wonder you don't give up farming," he continued. "Why not try something else?"
"I'm goin' to give it up," Abner declared.
"You are! Well, it's fortunate that I came to see you to-day."
"Why?"
"Because I want to buy your place."
"Buy my place!" Abner exclaimed. "What de ya want this place fer, I'd like to know?"
"For the situation. I need a place where I can bring my family during the summer, and this farm will suit us fine. The view is excellent, and there is a good beach for boating and bathing. How much do you want for it?"
"I didn't say I was goin' to sell, did I?" Abner roared.
"But you just told me you are going to give up farming, didn't you?"
"Sure, I did. But that doesn't mean I want to sell. I'm goin' to give up farmin' some day, an' you're goin' to give up the hardware bizness, too. But I shall keep the place fer the sake of the situation. I'll want it a few hundred years from now, fer I don't expect to light upon a nicer spot."
Isaac's eyes opened wide with amazement. He gave a slight start and looked keenly at Abner.
"Did you say 'a few hundred years?'" he asked.
"That's jist what I said. But it may be more, fer I can't tell how long it will take me to develop."
"Develop!"
"Sure. Ye see, I've been so long reachin' the Abner Andrews stage that I can't jist tell when I'll arrive."
"Arrive! Arrive where?"
"At the angel stage where I kin live without eatin' an' workin'. It's necessary fer a man to be sich a bein' to live on a place like this. That's what old Parson Shaw said after he'd been at Plunkerville fer several years."
"So you expect to be an angel, do you?" Isaac queried, while his mouth expanded into a grin.
"I'm hopin' that way, providin' I don't git any set-back, which would delay me fer a few hundred years or so."
"Won't it be rather lonesome living here all by yourself?" Isaac bantered. "How will you occupy your time?"
"Oh, I'm not worrin' about that. I'll have plenty to do."'
"You will! Along what line?"
"Lookin' after poultry; 'specially geese."
"Geese!"
"Yes, that's what I'll be doin' judgin' from present indications. Guess most of the folks in Glucom will have reached the goose stage by that time, if I'm not much mistaken. Most likely you'll be there, too, Ikey, though your pin-feathers won't be very tender. You'll surely be an old goose by that time."
This was more than Isaac could stand. His face reddened, and his bland smile departed.
"What do you mean by insulting me?" he demanded. "You owe me an apology for those words."
"Ye'r mistaken there, Ikey. It's the geese I should apologize to. I didn't mean to insult them poor critters."
"You're no gentleman," Isaac shouted, now fully aroused. "You're nothing but an ignorant clown."
"Yes, I reckon I am. But I'll improve by the time I'm ready to keep geese. Ye'll hardly know me then. But I'll know you, Ikey, fer no one could ever mistake that nose, even when it's changed into a goose's bill. There'll be lots of grubs and worms fer ye to feed on by the looks of things now."
"You impudent cur!" Isaac roared. "I didn't come here to be insulted, but to have a quiet talk about buying your place."
"No one asked ye to come, Ikey Dimock, an' the sooner ye go the better. Ye've insulted me over an' over agin, an' thought it was all right. But two kin play at that game, an' by the jumpin'-frog I've a good mind to twist ye'r measley neck."
So fierce did Abner look that Isaac retreated a few steps.
"Oh, don't git scared," Abner laughed. "I'll not hurt ye. But next time ye come to buy this place, bring ye'r shot-gun along. I don't like to kill a man without givin' him a chance to defend himself."
"I'll bring a constable, that's who I'll bring."
"All right, bring the hull police force if ye want to. They kin set as long as they like by the side of the road an' watch me hoe. That's as fer as they'll git, fer I'm king on me own ground, an' so long as I mind me own bizness I defy anyone to meddle with me. You're a trespasser here to-day, Ikey Dimock, an' the sooner ye hit fer the road the better fer all consarned."
"Yes, I'm going, Abner Andrews," Isaac angrily replied. "You have insulted me to-day, and have made a great bluster, but you'll come down with a flop when you're called upon to pay that thousand dollars you subscribed for the Orphans' Home."
"Hey, what's that ye'r gittin' off?" Abner demanded. "What bizness is it of yours, I'd like to know? Why should I flop when I'm asked to pay?"
"Simply because you