Sixes and Sevens by O. Henry


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Page 48

"That is not the point," persisted the major, unrelenting. "It was a
personal caricature. I positively decline to overlook it, sir."

"Major Talbot," said Hargraves, with a winning smile, "I wish you would
understand me. I want you to know that I never dreamed of insulting you.
In my profession, all life belongs to me. I take what I want, and what I
can, and return it over the footlights. Now, if you will, let's let it go
at that. I came in to see you about something else. We've been pretty
good friends for some months, and I'm going to take the risk of offending
you again. I know you are hard up for money -- never mind how I found
out; a boarding house is no place to keep such matters secret -- and I
want you to let me help you out of the pinch. I've been there often
enough myself. I've been getting a fair salary all the season, and I've
saved some money. You're welcome to a couple hundred -- or even more --
until you get --"

"Stop!" commanded the major, with his arm outstretched. "It seems that my
book didn't lie, after all. You think your money salve will heal all the
hurts of honour. Under no circumstances would I accept a loan from a
casual acquaintance; and as to you, sir, I would starve before I would
consider your insulting offer of a financial adjustment of the
circumstances we have discussed. I beg to repeat my request relative to
your quitting the apartment."

Hargraves took his departure without another word. He also left the house
the same day, moving, as Mrs. Vardeman explained at the supper table,
nearer the vicinity of the down-town theatre, where "A Magnolia Flower"
was booked for a week's run.

Critical was the situation with Major Talbot and Miss Lydia. There was no
one in Washington to whom the major's scruples allowed him to apply for a
loan. Miss Lydia wrote a letter to Uncle Ralph, but it was doubtful
whether that relative's constricted affairs would permit him to furnish
help. The major was forced to make an apologetic address to Mrs. Vardeman
regarding the delayed payment for board, referring to "delinquent rentals"
and "delayed remittances" in a rather confused strain.

Deliverance came from an entirely unexpected source.

Late one afternoon the door maid came up and announced an old coloured man
who wanted to see Major Talbot. The major asked that he be sent up to his
study. Soon an old darkey appeared in the doorway, with his hat in hand,
bowing, and scraping with one clumsy foot. He was quite decently dressed
in a baggy suit of black. His big, coarse shoes shone with a metallic
lustre suggestive of stove polish. His bushy wool was gray -- almost
white. After middle life, it is difficult to estimate the age of a Negro
. This one might have seen as many years as had Major Talbot.

"I be bound you don't know me, Mars' Pendleton," were his first words.

The major rose and came forward at the old, familiar style of address. It
was one of the old plantation darkeys without a doubt; but they had been
widely scattered, and he could not recall the voice or face.

"I don't believe I do," he said kindly -- "unless you will assist my
memory."

"Don't you 'member Cindy's Mose, Mars' Pendleton, what 'migrated
'mediately after de war?"

"Wait a moment," said the major, rubbing his forehead with the tips of his
fingers. He loved to recall everything connected with those beloved
days. "Cindy's Mose," he reflected. "You worked among the horses --
breaking the colts. Yes, I remember now. After the surrender, you took
the name of -- don't prompt me -- Mitchell, and went to the West -- to
Nebraska."

"Yassir, yassir," -- the old man's face stretched with a delighted grin --
"dat's him, dat's it. Newbraska. Dat's me -- Mose Mitchell. Old Uncle
Mose Mitchell, dey calls me now. Old mars', your pa, gimme a pah of dem
mule colts when I lef' fur to staht me goin' with. You 'member dem colts,
Mars' Pendleton?"

"I don't seem to recall the colts," said the major. "You know I was
married the first year of the war and living at the old Follinsbee place.
But sit down, sit down, Uncle Mose. I'm glad to see you. I hope you have
prospered."

Uncle Mose took a chair and laid his hat carefully on the floor beside it.

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Thu 15th Jan 2026, 18:24