Chapter III
Reading edition
About six months after the events we have detailed, as Mr. and Mrs. Swallow were sitting down to breakfast, they were surprised by the abrupt appearance of Tim and his wife.
“This is unexpected,” said Mr. Swallow.
“Rather sudden,” replied Tim, more seriously than he was wont to speak.
“I am glad to see you. Breakfast is all ready.”
“We have left New York for good,” interposed Belladonna, after she had kissed and hugged her sister-in-law twenty times—an exhibition of affection which she had not before manifested since she became Mrs. Buttercup.
“Indeed!” exclaimed Charles and Maria together.
“Fact!” said Tim, with a melancholy laugh.
“And I am so glad to get away from there! I always hated New York!” added Belladonna.
“Why, I thought you liked New York. Pray how are your friends the Smallheads, the Flunkeys, and the Chopsticks?”
“I hate them all!”
“Going into business in Boston, Tim?” asked Mr. Swallow.
“Is it possible you have not heard of it?” said Tim, looking his brother-in-law hard in the face.
“Heard of what?”
“My misfortunes.”
“What?”
“Bu’st up.”
“I am sorry to hear it.”
“Sad, but true;” and Tim essayed a stroke of humor. “Yes, sir! bu’st up; not a sixpence left—poor as a church mouse—borrowed the money to come on with.”
“Tim makes the best of it, you see,” added Belladonna, with a laugh. “For my part, I was almost glad he failed, I was so rejoiced to get away from New York. But, Maria, how have you been since I saw you?”
“Very well indeed.”
“And how is little Charley? the dear little fellow!” continued Mr. Buttercup, tenderly kissing the little boy, who sat in the high chair at the table, and who had contrived to daub his mouth pretty thoroughly with the molasses on his buckwheat cakes.
“How long since this affair happened?” asked Mr. Swallow, when the party had seated themselves at the table.
“Three weeks,” replied Tim. “Took every thing I had—tried to get a situation—couldn’t find one.”
“But where were Funks, Hunks, and Co.? Didn’t they want you?” asked Maria.
Tim looked at her—looked queer.
“No; they have a man now,” replied he.
“What are you going to do?” inquired Mr. Swallow.
“I happened to meet White in New York, and told him how I was situated—offered me five hundred a year to come on as salesman—accepted his offer.”
Maria looked at Belladonna, and thought of furnishing a house at an expense of six thousand dollars.
After breakfast, when Tim and Charles had gone out, Mrs. Buttercup introduced another topic.
“How pleasant it would be if we could board with you!” said she abruptly.
Mrs. Swallow did not think it would be so pleasant; but of course she could not say so, and, being too honest to belie her own heart, she remarked that they did not live in very good style.
“Good enough for any body, Maria.”
“But if your friends, the Smallheads or the Flunkeys, should happen to visit you——”
“O, there is no fear of that; if they did, I should not care.”
“But we live so plainly compared with your fashionable boarding houses.”
“You live well enough; and your house is so nice and convenient.—O, I should be so happy!”
“We have every thing comfortable,” added Maria, slyly.
Mrs. Belladonna Buttercup stopped to think. That remark sounded familiar to her ears.
“Very comfortable, and nice, and pretty! I wish Tim had just such a house!”
“You have altered your mind.”
“And just such furniture—I should be so happy!”
At dinner time the matter was still further discussed. Though Mr. Swallow liked Tim very well, he did not like his wife; but in consideration of their unfortunate condition, he consented to receive them as boarders.
Mrs. Buttercup never says a word now about an establishment, and Tim has a more serious and respectful way of speaking of a hundred thousand dollars. The Smallheads are never mentioned, and Tim thinks he missed it when he moved into a larger store. Belladonna declares she never heard of such a thing as a mirror twenty feet long by fifteen high, and is quite sure the Smallhead carpet did not cost above three dollars a yard.
Mrs. Swallow is satisfied that fine furniture does not make a happy wife. She regards the New York experience of her brother and his wife as an excellent commentary on the vanity of magnificent pretensions. And though her husband has been elected cashier of the Bay State Bank, with a salary of twenty-five hundred dollars per annum, she is still content with having “EVERY THING COMFORTABLE.”