The Cyclopeedy
by
Havin’ lived next door to the Hobart place f’r goin’ on thirty years, I calc’late that I know jest about ez much about the case ez anybody else now on airth, exceptin’ perhaps it’s ol’ Jedge Baker, and he’s so plaguy old ‘nd so powerful feeble that he don’t know nothin’.
It seems that in the spring uv ’47–the year that Cy Watson’s oldest boy wuz drownded in West River–there come along a book-agent sellin’ volyumes ‘nd tracks f’r the diffusion uv knowledge, ‘nd havin’ got the recommend of the minister ‘nd uv the selectmen, he done an all-fired big business in our part uv the county. His name wuz Lemuel Higgins, ‘nd he wuz ez likely a talker ez I ever heerd, barrin’ Lawyer Conkey, ‘nd everybody allowed that when Conkey wuz round he talked so fast that the town pump ‘u’d have to be greased every twenty minutes.
One of the first uv our folks that this Lemuel Higgins struck wuz Leander Hobart. Leander had jest marr’d one uv the Peasley girls, ‘nd had moved into the old homestead on the Plainville road,–old Deacon Hobart havin’ give up the place to him, the other boys havin’ moved out West (like a lot o’ darned fools that they wuz!). Leander wuz feelin’ his oats jest about this time, ‘nd nuthin’ wuz too good f’r him.
“Hattie,” sez he, “I guess I’ll have to lay in a few books f’r readin’ in the winter time, ‘nd I’ve half a notion to subscribe f’r a cyclopeedy. Mr. Higgins here says they’re invalerable in a family, and that we orter have ’em, bein’ as how we’re likely to have the fam’ly bime by.”
“Lor’s sakes, Leander, how you talk!” sez Hattie, blushin’ all over, ez brides allers does to heern tell uv sich things.
Waal, to make a long story short, Leander bargained with Mr. Higgins for a set uv them cyclopeedies, ‘nd he signed his name to a long printed paper that showed how he agreed to take a cyclopeedy oncet in so often, which wuz to be ez often ez a new one uv the volyumes wuz printed. A cyclopeedy isn’t printed all at oncet, because that would make it cost too much; consekently the man that gets it up has it strung along fur apart, so as to hit folks oncet every year or two, and gin’rally about harvest time. So Leander kind uv liked the idee, and he signed the printed paper ‘nd made his affidavit to it afore Jedge Warner.
The fust volyume of the cyclopeedy stood on a shelf in the old seckertary in the settin’-room about four months before they had any use f’r it. One night Squire Turner’s son come over to visit Leander ‘nd Hattie, and they got to talkin’ about apples, ‘nd the sort uv apples that wuz the best. Leander allowed that the Rhode Island greenin’ wuz the best, but Hattie and the Turner boy stuck up f’r the Roxbury russet, until at last a happy idee struck Leander, and sez he: “We’ll leave it to the cyclopeedy, b’gosh! Whichever one the cyclopeedy sez is the best will settle it.”
“But you can’t find out nothin’ ’bout Roxbury russets nor Rhode Island greenin’s in our cyclopeedy,” sez Hattie.
“Why not, I’d like to know?” sez Leander, kind uv indignant like.
“‘Cause ours hain’t got down to the R yet,” sez Hattie. “All ours tells about is things beginnin’ with A.”
“Well, ain’t we talkin’ about Apples?” sez Leander. “You aggervate me terrible, Hattie, by insistin’ on knowin’ what you don’t know nothin’ ’bout.”
Leander went to the seckertary ‘nd took down the cyclopeedy ‘nd hunted all through it f’r Apples, but all he could find wuz “Apple–See Pomology.”
“How in thunder kin I see Pomology,” sez Leander, “when there ain’t no Pomology to see? Gol durn a cyclopeedy, anyhow!”
And he put the volyume back onto the shelf ‘nd never sot eyes into it ag’in.