Cheerful Smugglers — The Coup d’État
THE COUP D'ETAT
The next morning dawned gloomily.
The sky was a dull gray, and a sickening drizzle was falling, mixed with a thick fog that made everything and everybody soggy and damp.
It was a most dismal and disheartening Sunday, without a ray of cheerfulness in it, and Mr. and Mrs. Fenelby felt the burden of the day keenly.
The house had the usual Sunday morning air of untidiness.
It was a bad day on which to take up the load of the tariff and carry it through twelve hours of servantless housekeeping.
Breakfast was a sad affair.
Kitty and Billy, who seemed in high spirits, tried to give the meal an air of gaiety, but Mr. Fenelby was glum and his wife naturally reflected some of his feeling, and after a few attempts to liven things Kitty and Billy turned their attention to each other and left the Fenelbys alone with their gloom.
As soon as breakfast was over, Kitty, after a weak suggestion that she should help Laura with the dishes, carried Billy away, saying that no matter what happened she was going to church.
The Fenelbys were glad to have them go, and Mr. Fenelby helped Laura carry out the breakfast things.
"Laura," said Mr. Fenelby, "I lay awake a long time last night thinking about the tariff, and something has got to be done about it!
I cannot, as the father of Bobberts, let it go on as it is going."
"I lay awake too," said Laura, "and I think exactly as you do, Tom."
"I knew you would," said Mr. Fenelby.
"The way Kitty and Billy are acting is not to be borne.
They acted last night as if you and I were not capable of raising our own child!
I really cannot put another cent in that bank under the tariff law, Laura.
Just think how it looks--_we_ are not to be trusted to provide Bobberts with an education; _we_ are not fit to decide how to raise the money for him.
No, Kitty and Billy are to be his guardians.
They don't trust us; they insist that we shall keep ourselves bound by the tariff system.
They think we don't love dear little Bobberts, and they think they can make us provide for him, just because they have the balance of power!"
"Yes," said Laura sympathetically.
"I thought of all that, Tom, and I don't think it does them much credit.
It is easy enough for them to say there must be a tariff, when they bring hardly anything into the house that they have to pay duty on, but _we_ have to keep the house going.
_We_ have to have vegetables and meat and all sorts of things, and they are making _us_ pay duty, while all they have to do is to eat and have a good time.
Bobberts is our child, Tom, and it ought to be for us to say what we will save for him, and how we will save it."
"That is just what I think," said Mr. Fenelby feelingly, "and I am not going to stand it any longer.
I am going to have another meeting of congress this afternoon--" "They will vote just the same way," said Laura, hopelessly.
"Probably," said Mr. Fenelby.
"But if they do we will end the whole thing."
"We can't send them away," said Laura.
"We couldn't be so rude as that."
"No," said Mr. Fenelby, "but we will secede.
You and I and Bobberts will secede from the Union.
I never believed in secession, Laura, but I see now that there are times when conditions become so intolerable that there is nothing else to do.
We will give them a chance to vote the tariff out of existence, and if they don't we will just secede from the Commonwealth of Bobberts.
We will have a free trade commonwealth of our own, and Kitty and Billy can do as they please."
"Tom," said Mrs. Fenelby, "that is just what we will do!"
And so it was settled.
By the time Kitty and Billy returned loiteringly from church Mr. Fenelby had progressed pretty well through four of the sixteen sections of the Sunday paper, and Mrs. Fenelby had Bobberts washed and dressed and was in the kitchen preparing dinner, which on Sunday was supposed to be at noon, but which, this Sunday, threatened to be about two o'clock.
Kitty threw off her hat and dropped her umbrella in the hall and rushed for the kitchen.
Billy merely glanced into the parlor, and seeing Tom holding the grim funny page uncompromisingly before his face, strolled out to the hammock.
"Laura," cried Kitty, "you _must_ let me help you!
And what do you think?
We met Doctor Stafford, and he _did_ prescribe whisky and rock candy for Bridget's cold!
So I fixed everything all right.
I
rushed Billy around to Bridget's sister's and Bridget is just getting over her cold, so she was glad to come back to you.
She says she never, never drinks except under her doctor's orders, and she said that if you hadn't been so hasty--" Mrs. Fenelby dropped the potato she was slicing.
Her pretty mouth hardened.
"Kitty!"
she exclaimed.
"Now I shall _never_ forgive you!
I will _never_ have Bridget in this kitchen again!
It wasn't only that she drank, it was her awful, awful deceitfulness.
It was that, Kitty, more than anything else.
I _won't_ have people about me who will not live up to the tariff poor dear Tom worked and worried to make!
_You_ may smuggle, Kitty, if you must be so low, and I certainly have no control over Billy, but my servants must not break the rules of this house.
If that Bridget dares to put her head inside of this door I will send her about her business."
"Laura," said Kitty, "I wish you would be reasonable--like Billy and me.
We talked it all over on the way to church, and we saw that it was Tom's crazy old tariff that was making all the trouble and driving Bridget away and everything, and we decided we would stop the tariff right away."
Laura's chin went into the air and her eyes flashed.
"_You_ will stop the tariff!"
she cried, turning red.
"What right have _you_ to stop anything in this house, Kitty?
And it isn't a crazy tariff.
It was a splendid idea, and no one but Tom would ever have thought of it, and it worked all right until you and Billy began spoiling it!"
"But I thought you wanted it stopped," said Kitty.
"I don't!"
exclaimed Laura, bursting into tears.
"It is a nice, lovely tariff, and if I ever said I didn't want it, it was because you aggravated me.
I won't have it stopped.
I won't be so mean to anything dear old Tom starts.
It's Bobberts' tariff.
You ought to think more of Bobberts than to suggest such a thing, if you don't love me."
Kitty stood back and looked at Laura as at some one possessed of evil spirits.
Then she turned to the table and took up the potato knife and began slicing potatoes calmly.
"Very well, Laura," she said.
"I tried to do what I thought you would like, but if you want the tariff so badly I shall certainly not oppose you.
Hereafter, no matter what happens, Billy and I will vote for the tariff!"
"And Tom and I certainly will," said Laura between sobs.
"We don't care _who_ the tariff bothers, or _how_ much trouble it is.
We are always, always going to have a tariff--for ever and ever!"
When she told Mr. Fenelby this he was not as happy about it as might have been expected.
He agreed that under the circumstances there was nothing else to do; that the tariff must become a permanent fixture;
but he did not say so joyfully.
He had more the air of a Job admitting that a continued succession of boils was inevitable.
Job, under those circumstances was probably as placid as could be expected, but not hilarious, and neither was Mr. Fenelby.
Dinner was as gloomy as breakfast had been.
It developed into one of the plate-studying kind, with each of the four eating hastily and silently.
Even Bobberts was not cheerful.
He did not "coo" as usual, but stared unsmilingly at the ceiling.
Into such a condition does a nation come when it suffers under a tax that is obnoxious, but which it cannot and will not repeal.
When a nation gets into that condition one State can hardly ask another State to pass the butter, and when it does ask, its parliamentary courtesy is something frigidly polite.
Suddenly Mrs. Fenelby looked up.
"Tom," she said, "there is somebody in the kitchen!"
Mr. Fenelby laid his fork softly on his plate and listened.
There was no doubt of it.
Someone was in the kitchen, gathering up the silverware.
Mr. Fenelby arose and went into the kitchen.
Almost immediately he returned.
He returned because he either had to follow Bridget into the dining room or stay in the kitchen alone.
"It's me, ma'am," said Bridget.
She planted herself before Mrs. Fenelby and placed her hands on her hips.
Mrs. Fenelby arose.
"I've come back," said Bridget.
"And you can go again," said Mrs. Fenelby regally.
"I do not want you, you can go!"
"Yes, ma'am," said Bridget.
"'Tis all th' same t' me--stay or go, ma'am,--but I'll be askin' ye t' pay me a month's wages, Mrs. Fenelby, if ye want me t' go.
A month's wages or a month's notice--that is th' law, ma'am."
"The idea!"
exclaimed Mrs. Fenelby.
"I have not even hired you, yet!"
"No, ma'am," said Bridget, "but th' young lady has.
She hired me with her own mouth, at me own sister Maggie's, who will be witness t' it, an' I have been workin' in th' kitchen already.
I've washed th' spoons."
"The young lady," said Mrs. Fenelby coldly, "has no right to hire servants for me."
"And hasn't she, ma'am?"
said Bridget angrily.
"Let th' judge in th' court-house say if she has or hasn't!
Don't try t' fool me, Missus Fenelby, ma'am.
I've worked here before, ma'am, an' I know all about th' Commonwealth way ye have of doin' things.
Wan of ye has as good a right t' vote me into a job as another has, Mrs. Fenelby, an' th' young lady an' th' young gintleman both asked me t' come.
Even a poor ign'rant Irish girl has rights, Mrs. Fenelby, an' hired I was, t' worrk for th' Commonwealth.
An' here I stay, without ye choose t' hand me me month's wages!"
Mrs. Fenelby looked appealingly at Tom, and Tom looked at Billy.
"I think she'd win, if she took it to law," said Billy.
"You know how the judges are.
And if she brought up the matter of the Commonwealth, you know you _did_ make Kitty and me full partakers in it."
"Tom," said Mrs. Fenelby, "pay her a month's wages and let her go!"
Mr. Fenelby moved uneasily.
He had put all his money into Bobberts' bank.
In all the house there was not a month's wages except in Bobberts' bank.
Mr. Fenelby looked toward the bank.
"Never!"
said Billy.
"_I_ put money into that, and so did Kitty.
It is for Bobberts, not for month's wages.
I object."
Mr. Fenelby looked away from the bank.
He looked, helplessly, all around the room, and ended by looking at Laura.
"My dear," he said, "I think we had better keep Bridget."
"I think ye had!"
said Bridget.
"For there ain't no way t' git rid of me.
I'm here, ma'am, an' I don't bear no ill will.
I forgive ye all, an' I'm willin' t' let by-gones be by-gones, excipt one or two things, which ye will have t' change."
"The idea!"
exclaimed Mrs. Fenelby.
Bridget shrugged her shoulders.
"Have it yer own way, ma'am," she said.
"I am not one that would dictate t' th' lady of th' house.
I am no dictator, ma'am, an' I don't wish t' be, but here I am an' here I stay, an' 'tis no fault of mine if some things riles me temper and makes me act as I shouldn't. I'm one that likes things t' be peaceful, ma'am, for no one knows how much row a girrl can make in th' house better 'n than I does, especially when she's hired by th' month an' can't be fired.
I can't forget one Mrs. Grasset I worked for, ma'am, an' her that miserable an' cryin' all th' time, just because I had one of me bad timper spells.
I should hate t' have one of thim here, Mrs. Fenelby."
"Well," said Mr. Fenelby, controlling his righteous indignation as best he could, "what is it you want?"
"I want no more of thim tariff doin's!"
said Bridget firmly.
"Thim tariff doin's is more than mortal mind can stand, Mr. Fenelby, sir!
Nawthin' I ever had t' do with in anny of me places riled me up like thim tariff doin's, an' we will have no more tariff in th' house, _if_ ye please, sir."
"Well, of all the impert--" began Mr. Fenelby angrily, but Mrs. Fenelby put her hand on his arm and quieted him.
"Tom," she said, "please be careful!
You do not have to spend your days with Bridget, and I do!
Don't be rash.
Send her into the kitchen until we talk it over."
Bridget went, willingly.
She gathered an armful of dishes, and went into her throne-room, bearing her head high.
She felt that she was master and she was.
"Now, this Commonwealth--" began Mr. Fenelby, when the kitchen door had closed, but Billy stopped him.
"Stop being foolish, Tom," he said.
"What Commonwealth are you talking about?
This is not a Commonwealth--this is an unlimited dictatorship, and Bridget is sole dictator!
Wake up; don't you know a _coup d'etat_ when you see one?
Can't you tell a usurper by sight?"
Mr. Fenelby looked moodily at the kitchen door.
"That is what it is," said Billy decidedly.
"The dictator has smashed your republic under her iron heel; your laws are all back numbers--if she wants any laws, she will let you know.
I know the signs.
When a Great One rises up in the midst of a Republic and puts her hands on her hips and says 'What are you going to do about it?'
and there _isn't_ anything to do about it, you have a dictator, and all that you can do is knuckle down and be good."
There was a minute's silence.
The Commonwealth was dying hard.
"I could shake the money out of Bobberts' bank," said Mr. Fenelby, but even as he said it Bobberts wailed.
His voice arose clear and strong in protest against that or against something else.
The kitchen door swung open and the Dictator ran in and approached the Heir, and Bobberts held out his arms.
"Bless th' darlin'," said Bridget, cuddling him in her arms, but Mrs. Fenelby frowned.
"Give him to me," she said sternly, and Bridget turned to her.
And then, in the eyes of all the Commonwealth, Bobberts turned his back on his own mother and clung to the Dictator!
Clung, and squealed, until the danger of separation was over.
"You see!"
said Billy, triumphantly.
Mrs. Fenelby sighed.
The Dictator had won.
The tariff was dead.
"And in our house," said Kitty, cheerfully, "we won't have any tariff, will we, Billy?"
"Your house!"
exclaimed Mrs. Fenelby, forgetting all about the Dictator in the new interest, and brightening into herself again.
"Our house," said Kitty proudly.
"Mine and Billy's." "Our house," echoed Billy, blushing.
"We can't stand a Dictator, and we are going to secede and--and have a United State of our own."
* * * * * "Isn't it splendid about Kitty and Billy?"
said Mrs. Fenelby that evening to Tom, as they bent over Bobberts' crib.
"And if it hadn't been for our tariff driving them together I don't believe it would ever have happened."
"It's fine!"
said Mr. Fenelby.
"Fine!
And that other set of Eugene Field will do for a wedding present!"
THE END
TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE:
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