Peeping through the same crevice of the curtain where, only a little
while before, the urchin of elephantine appetite had peeped, the
butcher beheld the inner door, not closed, as the child had seen it,
but ajar, and almost wide open. However it might have happened, it was
the fact. Through the passage-way there was a dark vista into the
lighter but still obscure interior of the parlor. It appeared to the
butcher that he could pretty clearly discern what seemed to be the
stalwart legs, clad in black pantaloons, of a man sitting in a large
oaken chair, the back of which concealed all the remainder of his
figure. This contemptuous tranquillity on the part of an occupant of
the house, in response to the butcher's indefatigable efforts to
attract notice, so piqued the man of flesh that he determined to
withdraw.
"So," thought he, "there sits Old Maid Pyncheon's bloody brother, while
I've been giving myself all this trouble! Why, if a hog hadn't more
manners, I'd stick him! I call it demeaning a man's business to trade
with such people; and from this time forth, if they want a sausage or
an ounce of liver, they shall run after the cart for it!"
He tossed the titbit angrily into his cart, and drove off in a pet.
Not a great while afterwards there was a sound of music turning the
corner and approaching down the street, with several intervals of
silence, and then a renewed and nearer outbreak of brisk melody. A mob
of children was seen moving onward, or stopping, in unison with the
sound, which appeared to proceed from the centre of the throng; so that
they were loosely bound together by slender strains of harmony, and
drawn along captive; with ever and anon an accession of some little
fellow in an apron and straw-hat, capering forth from door or gateway.
Arriving under the shadow of the Pyncheon Elm, it proved to be the
Italian boy, who, with his monkey and show of puppets, had once before
played his hurdy-gurdy beneath the arched window. The pleasant face of
Phoebe--and doubtless, too, the liberal recompense which she had flung
him--still dwelt in his remembrance. His expressive features kindled
up, as he recognized the spot where this trifling incident of his
erratic life had chanced. He entered the neglected yard (now wilder
than ever, with its growth of hog-weed and burdock), stationed himself
on the doorstep of the main entrance, and, opening his show-box, began
to play. Each individual of the automatic community forthwith set to
work, according to his or her proper vocation: the monkey, taking off
his Highland bonnet, bowed and scraped to the by-standers most
obsequiously, with ever an observant eye to pick up a stray cent; and
the young foreigner himself, as he turned the crank of his machine,
glanced upward to the arched window, expectant of a presence that would
make his music the livelier and sweeter. The throng of children stood
near; some on the sidewalk; some within the yard; two or three
establishing themselves on the very door-step; and one squatting on the
threshold. Meanwhile, the locust kept singing in the great old
Pyncheon Elm.