The Contralto

Rev. Charles Maloy, C. M.
St. Joseph's Parish, Emmitsburg, Md.

Chapter 22 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 1

The Mountaineers came to town on Christmas day in force but left at nightfall without any outbreak of their traditional fighting spirit. Tom Greavy walked from tavern to hotel, drinking so much carbonated water that to quote his own way of stating it, "he sizzled like a soda-water fountain." Wherever two or three of the roughs gathered before a bar the plumber entered, stood amongst them for a moment, ordered a bottle of pop, and there was an immediate softening of tone in the assembly. John Glass, who now paraded on big days in a full policeman's uniform, thanks to Starling's suggestion, conscious of strength in the presence of the wrestler, assumed a military bearing, which contrasted greatly with his usual shuffling gait. Main street presented a striking picture for at every hitching-post stood antiquated bobsleighs, ramahackle buggies, or loose jointed carryals. The citizens having duly fulfilled their church duties, with the children who still remained at home and those few who came back for the festival, sat down to their turkey dinner, for fowl was something common in Emmitsburg.

The Rector and Professor dined en female, discussing the grand turnout at church. The younger man could not but remark the enthusiasm of his friend to whom a crowd of God's worshippers, whether in city or country, was a source of inspiration, and a motive for hope. Harry did his best to get away from his own selfish gloom and share in the disinterested joy of the self-forgetting parson, though it was very hard to make a decent pretense. The dinner over, the Rector, wearied with his work, declared himself in favor of a siesta, Harry walked through the town not wishing to intrude on the gatherings which rule the occasion amongst families. Near the Emitt House he came upon Greavy on patrol:

"Charter members of Emmitsburg's Lonely Twenty-Six, eh, Professor?"

"That's it, Tom, where did you dine?"

"At the hotel, the only guest."

"Where was the Doctor?"

"At the Forman's, he always eats Christmas dinner there."

"Had I thought of it I would have asked the Rector to invite you to join with us."

"Thank you, Professor," said Tom gently; then, "this is the last Christmas I eat alone, if I know anything."

"Are you going back to America, Tom?"

"No, this is good enough for me; business is picking up, this town is due for a boom, I'm satisfied to remain here. This time next year I'll have a home of my own," and the set jaw gave assurance that he meant what he said.

They passed out the road, meeting late arriving mountaineers many of whom looked at the plumber with dislike, mingled with fear. The dead level of wintry depression which lay all about them reacted in their souls; both by a common impulse turned back before they had travelled far.

"Have you the prospective partner, Tom?" "I have, but there's an obstacle."

"Which only makes the wrestling more interesting; what is the obstacle?"

"Her parents object, say I'm not good enough." "What does the girl say?"

"She's willing, but I don't want to get the name of cradle-robber in addition to thug."

"Is she the legal age?"

"Sure; you know her, that stout girl who took the part of the servant in 'A Night Off.' "

"She seemed to be a maiden with a mind of her own; the two of you ought to be able to carry the day against parental opposition."

"How are we going to do it?"

"There is a way of telegraphing for blessings after all is over," as though talking to himself. "Would that be on the level?"

"It has been considered on the level since the world was young by those most concerned."

Hokes Restaurant - South side of West Main Street

Time was taken to ruminate on the suggestion, both moving in silence. On the sidewalk in front of the Hoke Saloon, John Glass was remonstrating with two or three. The plumber crossed and stood, hands in pockets, an apparent careless spectator, but as soon as he was recognized the turmoil subsided. Rejoining his companion, he asked:

"When do you return to God's own country, Professor?"

"I shall stick my year out, then I presume the call of the city will get me."

"Unless something stronger gets you before." "By which you mean?"

"The same as got me."

"Not the least danger," laughing without mirth.

"Well, Professor, if I had your chances there ain't much which would hold me from the championship in my class. You've got the weight and I can't see why you shouldn't have the staying powers. Of course, it ain't right for me to talk to you like this but somehow or other I feel you need advice."

"Did you ever see a man come back, Tom?"

"I've done it myself; I was way out of condition two years ago, was slated for the scrap heap. Then I got the offer to come up here. I knew the handicaps I would be up against among these mossbacks, but I took a chance, climbed the wagon, and it's two years since I hit a high place. If a fellow's got the right stuff in him they can't keep him down."

They parted, Tom continuing his watch for disturbances, Harry returning to the rectory and to a fit of the blues, which forbade reading or sleep. Most natures can, after the first poignant outburst settle down to a tolerance of the inevitable. Doubt it is which, like dropping water, wears away the hardest will. The Professor was not fighting for the possession of Marion Tyson; he knew she loved him and there was a way of getting her. It was his sense of justice, his fear that he could not prove worthy of her which tore at his heart. And under it all, for he was an incipient superman, was the feeling that he was called on to give up his darling lifework. Marion, as the wife of an underpaid, thought-encrusted pedagogue, was an incongruity sad to contemplate; better the stage any day. He was none of the class who bound over difficulties, but of that far more common mold who prefer to get round them. The tinkling of the bell for supper called him to the dining-room where the Rector, who could read him easily, endeavored to cheer him to little purpose. At last he inquired:

"Is this your first Christmas away from home?" "The first under such circumstances."

"You should have run back for the holidays."

"No, it's better as it is; I need all the discipline I can get to strengthen me for the future."

"I am afraid you are too hard on yourself in this matter, my boy," went on the older man kindly; "you should accept the aids Providence throws in your way. Repentance is good but there is such a thing as over doing it. None of us is self-sufficing, we all need help from those about us."

"Are we licensed to accept it at the cost of sorrow to others?"

"It's all a game of give and take," rejoined the Rector; "did you not receive an invitation to spend the evening anywhere?"

"I haven't had the heart to open my mail except that from home; it's lying on my desk with the presents, waiting for the fit of melancholy to pass."

"I would open it."

"There is nothing unexpected, I am sure."

The advice was carried out, however; Harry sat reading cards and notes from many distant and diverse quarters of the world, which revived a flood of recollections. Best wishes from former class-mates and students, tokens from almost forgotten friends whom the festive occasion urged to remembrance, little letters, mixtures of love and reproaches. There was a number of local missives, Uncle Bennett and Aunt Judy, Stoner and his wife, Carrigan who sent a card somewhat soiled in the inscription, and one from Mrs. Neck, which took his breath as he thought of the unifying power of the Christ spirit. One remained unopened while he mused on the fact that the sought-for writing did not appear. He took this up with a careless hand; it was from Mrs. Tyson, wishing him all the blessings of the season and requesting the pleasure of his company on Christmas night.

The reading of the mail was followed by a perfunctory examination of the presents which littered the table. Here were cigars from men friends and all the useless nick-nacks that ladies inflict on their bachelor acquaintances from slippers to oxidized match safes. One case marked "glass" was pushed aside with the resolution that Bob would dispose of it in the morning. A small jewel box was opened and in the soft velvet depths snuggled a stickpin with chip ruby eyes set in the head of a horse. There was a card inscribed "Forti et fideli nil difficile." The chirography presented no problem for identification, and Harry made immediately for the Rector's study, inquiring if he might be excused for the evening. He was assured with a smile that the Pastor was retiring early.

On the short walk to the Tyson home he fondled the stickpin in his cravat, enjoying by anticipation the pleasant time in store for him, resolved to make the most of the present without undue thought of what might come. The one maid who helped with the work of the family having gone to spend the night with friends, Marion responded to his ring. In the light of the entrance she took a hasty glance at his necktie and smiled joyously. Mrs. Tyson joined them with the felicitations of the season and they settled down to what Marion announced would be a home gathering, a remark that received grateful response from the visitor. Their enjoyment was scarcely under way when Mrs. Hopp bounded in:

"God Almighty! it's a lonesome Christmas; I just couldn't stand it a minute longer. I thought some of the children would be home to spend it with me, but I suppose they are all taken up with their own fun. Christmas is only for children anyhow, and the lonesomest people at this time are those who haven't any children or whose family is all grown up; don't you think so, boy?"

"I know it, Mrs. Hopp," emphatically.

"But some of us never grow up," suggested Marion.

"Fiddlesticks! You are twenty and know more in a week than I'll ever know. I was married at eighteen and your mother here wasn't much older."

"We of the present generation are better acquainted with life's responsibilities and must take more time for consideration," argued the girl, enjoying the sense of opposition awakened in the old lady.

"Yes, take time for consideration and let opportunities slip and die old maids or take some slob as a last resort."

"But some of us have superior vocations, the enlightenment of the world or its pleasure; I am seriously thinking of going on the stage."

"Well, God Almighty! child, are you going crazy? What is she talking about?" addressing the mother, "just trying to stuff an old woman?" "She is considering it," admitted Mrs. Tyson.

"What in the name of the Lord do you want on the stage? Not that it isn't all right, Esther is on it, but you don't have to do anything like that," looking at the Professor.

"He is advising it," pursued Marion.

"You can't tell me that this boy," putting her hand on his head with a gesture denoting proprietor-ship, "is telling you any such nonsense. Come out and let these children enjoy their Christmas," to Mrs. Tyson.

"Won't you smoke?" putting the ash receiver at his elbow.

He took out his case while the girl held a match over the lamp then to his cigarette. He watched the shapely hands encircling the burning stick for some time longer than was necessary to a good light, before nodding his head, the first inhalation of smoke causing him to cough.

"You have made a wonderful impression on Daisy," said Marion, settling back in the attitude most appealing to him.

"Being a source of candy supply," he commented. "She is an inveterate gambler."

"Quite in contrast with Miss Vinny, don't you think?"

"I hope the child will continue to exercise her ability to get whatever she desires. It's a weary world for modest people."

"And that she will never meet closely one who has lost his soul," after a pause.

"Or one without the power to recover it."

"How is your friend doing in his search?" he asked presently.

"Poorly, thank you, as the natives say," laughing teasingly at him.

"Still he is not beyond hope?"

"While there's life—"

This ended the sparring, for his head came into action marshalling doubts and scruples in battle array against his heart. He would not spoil present pleasure by bringing up the perplexing question. Carpe diem, said Old Horace, and he would be guided by the principle of one of the world's greatest natural moralists. His mind ran back to his Latin Professor, the best he had ever known, who held that Sybarite knew all and taught all that later ethical scholars imagined they had discovered. He told the girl what was running through his mind and she loved him the more for his eloquent remembrance of the old pagan. Their laughter, as he affectionately mimiced his teacher, reached the ears of the two older women and they joined in from sympathy.

They drifted to the contemplated trip to New York, he learning that Mrs. Halm would, if her health permitted, go to the Metropolis during Lent. The Emmitsburgers were strict in observance of the penitential season, so theatricals would be taboo. Marion would seize this opportunity as Mrs. Halm was well acquainted with the city, could obtain easy entrance to musical circles, and would accept the duties of chaperonage towards her favorite young friend. Mrs. Tyson willingly acquiesced in the arrangements. The Holy Terror looked in to bid them good night, again asserting that the girl was crazy to think of going on the stage.

In leaving, the Professor wrapped the girl to his breast, she unresisting, for he had been blue all day, and it was Christmas.

Chapter 23

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