XI.FENNEL PAYNE AND ADELINE.
TWEENIT is usually in a state of ferment from one cause or another. Last week it was a quarrel between two neighbors; the week before it was Aunt Jinny’s (Aunt Jinny under the hill) undertaking to have company; this week, it is silver-plated knives. Fennel Payne has bought for Adeline silver-plated knives. “It does beat all!” exclaims Mrs. Laura, who is now discussing the matter with Mrs. Fennel in an adjoining room. My prophetic eye sees a day in the far-off future, when, even in country villages, women’s thoughts will be occupied by subjects of more importance. Meanwhile, Nature abhorring a vacuum, gossip flows in, as one may say, like a sea, filling every little creek and inlet between the solid high lands of housework and needlework.
It is amazing, the relish with which a choice bit of this standard entertainment is enjoyed. Mrs.Laura comes over on some errand (she is a stoutly-built woman with a determined cast of countenance), and sits down by Mrs. Fennel. The talk begins: it grows interesting. They lean toward each other: there is animation in their faces, a light in their eyes, feeling in every tone. The announcement of a national calamity could hardly be received with greater emotion than is this wonderful news of to-day. “Silver-plated knives? Whatdoyou mean?”
It was Fennel Payne and Adeline who were criticised by the sewing-circle for their way of spending time and money. Indeed, Tweenit in general disapproves of this couple: it calls them “stuck up.” I know this cannot be true of Adeline, because she is an intimate friend of my friend Mrs. Royal of Piper’s Mills, and therefore must have common-sense, and therefore cannot be “stuck up.” And, as for her husband, I like the looks of him much, and mean to accept his kind invitation to “come over.” These two words seem to suffice for all ordinary complimenting in Tweenit, especially at the breaking-up of a gathering, when it fairly rains “come overs.” But hark! List! What is Mrs. Laura saying? “Every day!” “They don’t keep them for company, but use them every day!”This is the last straw which breaks the back of forbearance. Purchasing the articles at all was bad enough; but using them “every day” is atrocious. These two, Fennel Payne and Adeline, are rare specimens, which must be examined. The interests of my science demand it. I shall go “over.”
TWO WEEKS LATER.
Well, I have been over several times; and I entirely approve of Fennel Payne and Adeline. They are a couple in advance of their times,—a couple worthy to live in the days of “The Columbian Simplifier and Time-Provider.” They believe in books, in beauty, in social intercourse, and in out-doors.
I found my friend Mrs. Royal staying there the last time I called. She is quite enthusiastic about Mr. Fennel Payne, and, finding that I sympathize in her enthusiasm, has kindly lent me these extracts, copied from letters which a young friend of hers received from Adeline’s sister, one Miss Vining. They eulogize Fennel Payne, and, at the same time, solve the great knife mystery.
EXTRACTS.
... “Pretty scenery, river, meadow, woods beyond. They live up stairs, have one cooking-room, one sitting-room, two sleeping-rooms, withgarret privileges, and the right to wash in the sink-room, down below, the second pleasant day after Sunday. Adeline does her own work, and takes care of little Adeline and Buddy, as they call baby. He is—but, as the girl in the book says, there never will be a word invented adequate to describe your sister’s baby. No, there never will. And such a husband as Adeline has got! Oh, I tell you there are not many Fennel Paynes in this world! Oh, they two do take such comfort! Why, the very atmosphere of the house is full of comfort, and you have to breathe it in.
“Fennel comes home from work at evening, and settles himself down with an air of intense satisfaction, as if this were for him the only spot in all the world. Sometimes he undresses Buddy, Adeline, meanwhile, stepping about, doing up the work, going sideways so as to keep her eyes on them, and telling over all the cunning things baby and little Adeline have committed during the day. At last baby’s father, after fumbling at the nightgown strings, and tying them in a single bow-knot, covers him over like a cocoon. Then lullaby, hushaby, softly and gently. Fennel’s low tones are wonderfully sweet; and now and then Adeline joins in ‘with sweet accord.’ I tell you ’tis such aperfect taking comfort, it almost brings the tears to my eyes. That baby’s slumbers ought to be sweet, thus watched and tended. But it is so funny to see a man try to glide! In Fennel’s tiptoe performances he seems to be putting himself universally out of joint....
“Fennel is unwilling to have Adeline do any very bard work. They live well, but simply; that is, they have the best of bread, meats, fruit, &c., but no elaborate concoctions which take time to prepare, and cost money to buy. Fennel says he thinks the right way is to save on non-essentials, and spend on essentials. Among essentials he counts books and pictures, especially books that have any bearing oneducation. He says, that, as Adeline has little Adeline and Buddy to bring up, she ought to have the means of preparing herself to do it, and beautiful things to look at, and leisure to enjoy them, so as to keep herself in a pleasant frame of mind. There is nothing he will not do to make Adeline’s work easy for her. I don’t mean ever to marry till I find a man just like Fennel Payne. But he has no brother. Alas and alackaday! Why, he even bought silver-plated knives to save Adeline’s arms and Adeline’s moments. His Aunt Laura was over yesterday; and she gave him quite a lecture on extravagance, also threw out something about the mother of a family sitting down to read in the daytime. Fennel declared that he could buy a set of knives every month with what his aunt spent in cooking the unnecessaries of life; and Adeline did a sum in tarts and doughnuts to show where her reading-time came from. Fennel said, that, if anybody ought to sit down to read in the daytime, it is the mother of a family; for she, more than anybody, needs whatever help books can give. Aunt Laura said she approved of laying by for a rainy day; and Adeline said that was just what she was doing,—laying up ideas against the day when her health might not be so good, or her family so small. ‘The questionis, Aunt Laura,’ said she, ‘who wastes time and money,—you, or I?’ Uncle David and Aunt Laura have always worked like slaves, and do now; but every dollar saved is put into the bank or into land. There’s hardly a pretty thing in their house. They work and save, work and save, denying themselves almost every enjoyment, except that of eating. They will live well. Uncle David owned to Fennel once, that he wants to have the name, when he dies, of leaving property. What a funny idea it is, when you come to think of it,—the idea of living this life, that can’t be lived but once, entirely for the sake of accumulating something, which, when we have done living, can be of no use to us! I agree with Fennel and Adeline, that we ought to get out of life what is best worth having. I suppose we can carry that with us; don’t you? And I shall not marry until I meet with a man—well, something like Fennel, or, at any rate, who believes as I do in these matters. Though, to be sure, I might take one that differed a little, supposing one offered, and convert him; but it would be advisable to do this last before marriage, perhaps before the engagement....
“Aunt Laura has just come over again, and she and Adeline are discussing the chapel question. They are on opposite sides, of course. ’Tis asgood as a play, being in Tweenit now; and I long to stay longer. Such exciting times! The women, it seems, have earned money to build a chapel (there never was any meeting-house here); and now the men, who have all along discouraged them from doing it, they step forward, and want to form a regular parish that shall build the chapel, and run it generally; but they are not going to allow the women to come to the parish-meetings, and speak,—the meetings that are to dispose of their own money, They say it would be wicked. Isn’t this funny?”...