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When he made his proposition to Mr. Rooper the thought of his own heirship never came into his mind. In fact, if any one had offered him ten dollars for said heirship, he would have asked fifteen, and would have afterward agreed to split the difference and take twelve and a half. But now everything had changed.
Rooper has written a little book on apperception, to which he gives the title of "A Pot of Green Feathers," that being the name applied to a pot of ferns by a child who had never seen ferns before.
"Very good," said his friend, crossing his pepper-and-salt legs; "and you will finish the 17th of August. That's a good, reasonable time." But Mr. Rooper had no intention of courting Mrs. Himes for a month. He intended to propose to her that very morning. He had been turning over the matter in his mind, and for several reasons had come to this conclusion.
McJimsey said not a word, but her head drooped and wild thoughts ran through her brain. Thoughts not wild, but well trained and broken, ran through Asaph's brain. The idea of going to Drummondville and spending for the journey thither a dollar and seventy-five cents of the money he had received from Mr. Rooper now became absolutely repulsive to him. "Mrs. McJimsey," said he, "I will say more.
I do not want any quarrelling or high words here, and I will see him and arrange the matter better than you can do it." "Oh, I can git away without speakin' to him," said Mr. Rooper, with reddened face. And so saying, he strode out of the house, through the front yard, and out of the gate, without turning his head toward Asaph, still sitting under the tree.
"But you don't mean to go agin me, do you, Asaph?" asked Thomas, ruefully. "'Tain't necessary," replied the other. "You will go agin yourself." For a few moments Mr. Rooper remained silent. He was greatly discouraged and dismayed by what had been said to him, but he could not yet give up what had become the great object of his life.
Rooper smiled sarcastically. "Is there anything else you want?" he asked. "Yes," said Asaph, decidedly; "there is. I want a umbrella." "Cotton or silk?" Asaph hesitated. He had never had a silk umbrella in his hand in his life. He was afraid to strike too high, and he answered, "I want a good stout gingham." Mr. Rooper nodded his head. "Very good," he said. "And is that all?"
And now, then, I want to know what you are goin' to do for me?" "What do you want?" asked Thomas. "The first thing I want," said Asaph, "is a suit of clothes. These clothes is disgraceful." "You are right there," said Mr. Rooper. "I wonder your sister lets you come around in front of the house. But what do you mean by clothes winter clothes or summer clothes?"
"If you haven't got the ready money for the clothes," said Asaph, after having given his companion some minutes for silent consideration, "there ain't a man in this village what they would trust sooner at the store for clothes," and then after a pause he added, "or books, which, of course, they can order from town." At this Mr. Rooper simply shrugged his shoulders.
"The Lord knows I don't want to!" ejaculated Mr. Rooper. The two men walked slowly to the end of a line of well-used, or, rather, badly used, wooden arm-chairs which stood upon the tavern piazza, and seated themselves. Mr. Rooper's mind was in a highly perturbed condition. If he accepted Asaph's present proposition he would have to make a considerable outlay with a very shadowy prospect of return.
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