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Page 44
In this pleasant, private boarding house they engaged rooms, including a
study for Major Talbot, who was adding the finishing chapters to his book,
"Anecdotes and Reminiscences of the Alabama Army, Bench, and Bar."
Major Talbot was of the old, old South. The present day had little
interest or excellence in his eyes. His mind lived in that period before
the Civil War, when the Talbots owned thousands of acres of fine cotton
land and the slaves to till them; when the family mansion was the scene of
princely hospitality, and drew its guests from the aristocracy of the
South. Out of that period he had brought all its old pride and scruples
of honour, an antiquated and punctilious politeness, and (you would think)
its wardrobe.
Such clothes were surely never made within fifty years. The major was
tall, but whenever he made that wonderful, archaic genuflexion he called a
bow, the corners of his frock coat swept the floor. That garment was a
surprise even to Washington, which has long ago ceased to shy at the
frocks and broadbrimmed hats of Southern congressmen. One of the boarders
christened it a "Father Hubbard," and it certainly was high in the waist
and full in the skirt.
But the major, with all his queer clothes, his immense area of plaited,
ravelling shirt bosom, and the little black string tie with the bow always
slipping on one side, both was smiled at and liked in Mrs. Vardeman' s
select boarding house. Some of the young department clerks would often
"string him," as they called it, getting him started upon the subject
dearest to him -- the traditions and history of his beloved Southland.
During his talks he would quote freely from the "Anecdotes and
Reminiscences." But they were very careful not to let him see their
designs, for in spite of his sixty-eight years, he could make the boldest
of them uncomfortable under the steady regard of his piercing gray eyes.
Miss Lydia was a plump, little old maid of thirty-five, with smoothly
drawn, tightly twisted hair that made her look still older. Old
fashioned, too, she was; but ante-bellum glory did not radiate from her as
it did from the major. She possessed a thrifty common sense; and it was
she who handled the finances of the family, and met all comers when there
were bills to pay. The major regarded board bills and wash bills as
contemptible nuisances. They kept coming in so persistently and so
often. Why, the major wanted to know, could they not be filed and paid in
a lump sum at some convenient period -- say when the "Anecdotes and
Reminiscences" had been published and paid for? Miss Lydia would calmly
go on with her sewing and say, "We'll pay as we go as long as the money
lasts, and then perhaps they'll have to lump it."
Most of Mrs. Vardeman's boarders were away during the day, being nearly
all department clerks and business men; but there was one of them who was
about the house a great deal from morning to night. This was a young man
named Henry Hopkins Hargraves -- every one in the house addressed him by
his full name -- who was engaged at one of the popular vaudeville
theatres. Vaudeville has risen to such a respectable plane in the last
few years, and Mr. Hargraves was such a modest and well-mannered person,
that Mrs. Vardeman could find no objection to enrolling him upon her list
of boarders.
At the theatre Hargraves was known as an all-round dialect comedian,
having a large repertoire of German, Irish, Swede, and black-face
specialties. But Mr. Hargraves was ambitious, and often spoke of his
great desire to succeed in legitimate comedy.
This young man appeared to conceive a strong fancy for Major Talbot.
Whenever that gentleman would begin his Southern reminiscences, or repeat
some of the liveliest of the anecdotes, Hargraves could always be found,
the most attentive among his listeners.
For a time the major showed an inclination to discourage the advances of
the "play actor," as he privately termed him; but soon the young man's
agreeable manner and indubitable appreciation of the old gentleman's
stories completely won him over.
It was not long before the two were like old chums. The major set apart
each afternoon to read to him the manuscript of his book. During the
anecdotes Hargraves never failed to laugh at exactly the right point. The
major was moved to declare to Miss Lydia one day that young Hargraves
possessed remarkable perception and a gratifying respect for the old
regime. And when it came to talking of those old days -- if Major Talbot
liked to talk, Mr. Hargraves was entranced to listen.
Like almost all old people who talk of the past, the major loved to linger
over details. In describing the splendid, almost royal, days of the old
planters, he would hesitate until he had recalled the name of the Negro
who held his horse, or the exact date of certain minor happenings, or the
number of bales of cotton raised in such a year; but Hargraves never grew
impatient or lost interest. On the contrary, he would advance questions
on a variety of subjects connected with the life of that time, and he n
ever failed to extract ready replies.
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