The World’s Wit and Humor: An Encyclopedia in 15 Volumes. 1906.
Eugene Field (1850–1895)The Cyclopeedy
H
It seems that in the spring uv ’97—the year that Cy Watson’s oldest boy was 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 ’d have to be greased every twenty minutes.
One of the first of 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 nothin’ wuz too good f’r him.
“Hattie,” says 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, ’nd that we orter have ’em, bein’ as how we’re likely to have the family bimeby.”
“Lor’s sakes, Leander, how you talk!” sez Hattie, blushin’ all over, ez brides allers does to heern tell 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, ’nd 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, ’nd 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 ’nd the Turner boy stuck up f’r the Roxbury russet, until at last a happy idee struck Leander, ’nd 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.”
“Waal, 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!”
’Nd he put the volyume back onto the shelf ’nd never sot eyes into it ag’in.
That’s the way the thing run f’r years ’nd years. Leander would’ve gin up the plaguey bargain, but he couldn’t; he had signed a printed paper ’nd had swore to it afore a justice of the peace. Higgins would have had the law on him if he had throwed up the trade.
The most aggervatin’ feature uv it all wuz that a new one uv them cussed cyclopeedies wuz allers sure to show up at the wrong time—when Leander wuz hard up or had jest been afflicted some way or other. His barn burnt down two nights afore the volyume containin’ the letter B arrived, ’nd Leander needed all his chink to pay f’r lumber, but Higgins sot back on that affidavit ’nd defied the life out uv him.
“Never mind, Leander,” sez his wife, soothin’ like, “it’s a good book to have in the house, anyhow, now that we’ve got a baby.”
“That’s so,” sez Leander; “babies does begin with B, don’t it?”
You see, their fust baby had been born; they named him Peasley—Peasley Hobart—after Hattie’s folks. So, seein’ as how it was payin’ f’r a book that told about babies, Leander didn’t begredge that five dollars so very much after all.
“Leander,” sez Hattie one afternoon, “that B cyclopeedy ain’t no account. There ain’t nothin’ in it about babies except ‘See Maternity’!”
“Waal, I’ll be gosh durned!” sez Leander. That wuz all he said, ’nd he couldn’t do nothin’ at all, f’r that book agent, Lemuel Higgins, had the dead wood on him—the mean, sneakin’ critter!
So the years passed on, one of them cyclopeedies showin’ up now ’nd then—sometimes every two years ’nd sometimes every four—but allers at a time when Leander found it pesky hard to give up a fiver. It warn’t no use cussin’ Higgins; Higgins jest laffed when Leander allowed that the cyclopeedy wuz no good ’nd that he wuz bein’ robbed. Meantime Leander’s family wuz increasin’ ’nd growin’. Little Sarey had the hoopin’-cough dreadful one winter, but the cyclopeedy didn’t help out at all, ’cause all it said wuz, “Hoopin’-cough—See Whoopin’-Cough”—’nd uv course there warn’t no Whoopin’-Cough to see, bein’ as how the W hadn’t come yet.
Oncet, when Hiram wanted to dreen the home pasture, he went to the cyclopeedy to find out about it, but all he diskivered wuz “Drain—See Tile.” This wuz in 1859, ’nd the cyclopeedy had only got down to G.
The cow was sick with lung fever one spell, ’nd Leander laid her dyin’ to that cussed cyclopeedy, ’cause when he went to readin’ ’bout cows it told him to “See Zoology.”
But what’s the use uv harrowin’ up one’s feelin’s talkin’ ’nd thinkin’ about these things? Leander got so after a while that the cyclopeedy didn’t worry him at all: he grew to look at it as one uv the crosses that human critters has to bear without complainin’ through this vale uv tears. The only thing that bothered him wuz the fear that mebbe he wouldn’t live to see the last volume. To tell the truth, this kind uv got to be his hobby, ’nd I’ve heern him talk ’bout it many a time, settin’ round the stove at the tavern ’nd squirtin’ tobacco juice at the sawdust box. His wife Hattie passed away with the yaller janders the winter W come, ’nd all that seemed to reconcile Leander to survivin’ her wuz the prospect of seein’ the last volyume uv that cyclopeedy. Lemuel Higgins, the book agent, had gone to his everlastin’ punishment; but his son Hiram had succeeded to his father’s business ’nd continued to visit the folks his old man had roped in. By this time Leander’s children had growed up; all on ’em wuz marr’d, ’nd there wuz numerus grandchildren to amuse the ol’ gentleman. But Leander wuzn’t to be satisfied with the common things uv airth; he didn’t seem to take no pleasure in his grandchildren, like most men do; his mind wuz allers sot on somethin’ else; for hours ’nd hours, yes, all day long, he’d set out on the front stoop lookin’ wistfully up the road for that book agent to come along with a cyclopeedy. He didn’t want to die till he’d got all th’ cyclopeedies his contract called for; he wanted to have everything straightened out before he passed away.
When—oh, how well I recollect it!—when Y come along he wuz so overcome that he fell over in a fit of paralysis, ’nd the old gentleman never got over it. For the next three years he drooped ’nd pined, ’nd seemed like he couldn’t hold out much longer. Finally he had to take to his bed—he was so old ’nd feeble—but he made ’em move the bed up ag’inst the winder so he could watch for that last volyume of the cyclopeedy.
The end come one balmy day in the spring uv ’87. His life wuz a-ebbin’ powerful fast; the minister wuz there, ’nd me, ’nd Dock Wilson, ’nd Jedge Baker, ’nd most uv the fam’ly. Lovin’ hands smoothed the wrinkled forehead ’nd breshed back the long, white hair, but the eyes of the dyin’ man wuz sot upon that piece uv road down which the cyclopeedy man allers come.
All at oncet a bright ’nd joyful look come into them eyes, ’nd ol’ Leander riz up in bed ’nd sez, “It’s come!”
“What is it, father?” asked his daughter Sarey, sobbin’-like.
“Hush,” sez the minister solemnly; “he sees the shinin’ gates uv the Noo Jerusalem.”
“No, no,” cried the aged man, “it is the cyclopeedy—the letter Z—it’s comin’!”
’Nd sure enough, the door opened ’nd in walked Higgins. He tottered rather than walked, f’r he had growed old ’nd feeble in his wicked perfession.
“Here’s the Z cyclopeedy, Mr. Hobart,” says Higgins.
Leander clutched it; he hugged it to his pantin’ bosom; then, stealin’ one pale hand under the piller, he drew out a faded bank-note ’nd gave it to Higgins.
“I thank Thee for this boon!” sez Leander, rollin’ his eyes up devoutly; then he gave a deep sigh.
“Hold on!” cried Higgins, excitedly, “you’ve made a mistake—it isn’t the last——”
But Leander didn’t hear him; his soul hed fled from its mortal tenement ’nd hed soared rejoicin’ to realms uv everlastin’ bliss.
“He is no more,” sez Dock Wilson metaphorically.
“Then who are his heirs?” asked that mean critter Higgins.
“We be,” sez the family.
“Do you conjointly ’nd severally acknowledge ’nd assume the obligation of deceased to me?” he asked ’em.
“What obligation?” asked Peasley Hobart stern-like.
“Deceased died owin’ me fer a cyclopeedy!” sez Higgins.
“That’s a lie!” sez Peasley. “We all seen him pay you for the Z!”
“But there’s another one to come,” sez Higgins.
“Another?” they all asked.
“Yes, the Index!” sez he.
So there wuz, ’nd I’ll be eternally goll durned if he ain’t a-suin’ the estate in the probate court now f’r the price uv it!