Parnassus on Wheels

Parnassus on Wheels Read Online Free PDF

Book: Parnassus on Wheels Read Online Free PDF
Author: Christopher Morley
Tags: Suspense
Mrs. Mason provided for her house-hold; but I was
afraid that if we dallied there too long Andrew would be after us. I
was about to say that we would have to be getting on, and couldn't
stay; but apparently the zest of expounding his philosophy to new
listeners was too much for Mifflin. I heard him saying:
    "That's mighty kind of you, Mrs. Mason, and we'd like very much to
stay. Perhaps I can put Peg up in your barn for a while. Then we can
tell you all about our books." And to my amazement I found myself
chiming in with assent.
    Mifflin certainly surpassed himself at dinner. The fact that
Mrs. Mason's hot biscuits tasted of saleratus gave me far less
satisfaction than it otherwise would, because I was absorbed in
listening to the little vagabond's talk. Mr. Mason came to the table
grumbling something about his telephone being out of order—(I
wondered whether he had been trying to get Andrew on the wire; he
was a little afraid that I was being run away with, I think)—but
he was soon won over by the current of the little man's cheery wit.
Nothing daunted Mifflin. He talked to the old grandmother about
quilts; offered to cut off a strip of his necktie for her new
patchwork; and told all about the illustrated book on quilts that he
had in the van. He discussed cookery and the Bible with Mrs. Mason;
and she being a leading light in the Greenbriar Sunday School, was
pleasantly scandalized by his account of the best detective stories
in the Old Testament. With Mr. Mason he was all scientific farming,
chemical manures, macadam roads, and crop rotation; and to little
Billy (who sat next him) he told extraordinary yarns about Daniel
Boone, Davy Crockett, Kit Carson, Buffalo Bill, and what not.
Honestly I was amazed at the little man. He was as genial as a
cricket on the hearth, and yet every now and then his earnestness
would break through. I don't wonder he was a success at selling
books. That man could sell clothes pins or Paris garters, I guess,
and make them seem romantic.
    "You know, Mr. Mason," he said, "you certainly owe it to these
youngsters of yours to put a few really good books into their hands.
City kids have the libraries to go to, but in the country there's
only old Doc Hostetter's Almanac and the letters written by ladies
with backache telling how Peruna did for them. Give this boy and
girl of yours a few good books and you're starting them on the
double-track, block-signal line to happiness. Now there's 'Little
Women'—that girl of yours can learn more about real girlhood and
fine womanhood out of that book than from a year's paper dolls in
the attic."
    "That's right, Pa," assented Mrs. Mason. ("Go on with your meal,
Professor, the meat'll be cold.") She was completely won by the
travelling bookseller, and had given him the highest title of honour
in her ken. "Why, I read that story when I was a girl, and I still
remember it. That's better readin' for Dorothy than those funeral
speeches, I reckon. I believe the Professor's right: we'd ought to
have more books laying around. Seems kind of a shame, with a famous
author at the next farm, not to read more, don't it, now?"
    So by the time we got down to Mrs. Mason's squash pie (good pie,
too, I admit, but her hand is a little heavy for pastry), the whole
household was enthusiastic about books, and the atmosphere was
literary enough for even Dr. Eliot to live in without panting. Mrs.
Mason opened up her parlour and we sat there while Mifflin recited
"The Revenge" and "Maud Muller."
    "Well, now, ain't that real sweet!" said Emma Mason. "It's
surprising how those words rhyme so nicely. Seems almost as though
it was done a-purpose! Reminds me of piece day at school. There
was a mighty pretty piece I learned called the 'Wreck of the
Asperus.'" And she subsided into a genteel melancholy.
    I saw that Mr. Mifflin was well astride his hobby: he had started to
tell the children about Robin Hood, but I had the sense to give him
a wink. We had to be getting along or surely Andrew
Read Online Free Pdf

Similar Books

Mourn the Hangman

Harry Whittington

Burn for Me

Lauren Blakely

Dash & Lily's Book of Dares

David Levithan, Rachel Cohn

Switchback

Catherine Anderson

Family

Micol Ostow

A March of Kings

Morgan Rice

Manchester House

Donald Allen Kirch