"'Twas a mighty good thing in its place," he said, "and at a fire it couldn't be beat, but he'd be hanged if he didn't b'lieve a nigger was made for somethin' harder and more sweaty-like than turnin' that crank to make b'lieve rain when it didn't. He reckoned the Lord knew what he was about, and if He was a mind to dry up the grass and the arbs, it wasn't for Cary nor nary other chap to take the matter into their own hands, and invent a patent thunder shower."
John reasoned clearly upon some subjects, and though his reasoning was not always correct, he proved a most invaluable servant. Old Hannah's place was filled by another colored woman, Sylvia, and though John greatly admired her complexion, as being one which would not fade, he lamented her inefficiency, often wishing that the services of Janet Hopkins could be again secured.
But Janet was otherwise engaged; and here, near the close of our story, it may not be amiss to glance for a moment at one who in the commencement of the narrative occupied a conspicuous place. About the time of Maude's blindness she had removed to a town in the southern part of New York, and though she wrote apprising her young mistress of the change, she forgot entirely to say where she was going, consequently the family were ignorant of her place of residence, until accident revealed it to J.C. De Vere. It was but a few weeks preceding Maude's return from Europe that he found himself compelled to spend a Sabbath in the quiet town of Fayette. Not far from his hotel an Episcopal church reared its slender tower, and thither, at the usual hour for service, he wended his way. There was to be a baptism that morning, and many a smile flitted over the face of matron and maid, as a meek-looking man came slowly up the aisle, followed by a short, thick, resolute Scotchwoman, in whom we recognize our old friend Janet Hopkins. Notwithstanding her firm conviction that Maude Matilda Remington Blodgett was her last and only one, she was now the mother of a sturdy boy, which the meek man carried in his arms. Hot disputes there had been between the twain concerning a name, Mr. Hopkins advocating simply John, as having been borne by his sire, while Janet, a little proud of the notoriety which her daughter's cognomen had brought to her, determined to honor her boy with a name which should astonish every one.
At the time of Maude's engagement with J.C. De Vere she had written to know what J.C. was for, and Jedediah Cleishbotham pleased her fancy as being unusual and odd. Indirectly she had heard that Maude was married to Mr. De Vere, and gone to Europe, and supposing it was of course J.C., she on this occasion startled her better half by declaring that her son should be baptized "John Joel Jedediah Cleishbotham," or nothing! It was in vain that he remonstrated.
Janet was firm, and hunting up Maude's letter, written more than three years before, she bade him write down the name, so as not to make a blunder. But this he refused to do. "He guessed he could remember that horrid name; there was not another like it in Christendom," he said, and on the Sunday morning of which we write he took his baby in his arms, and in a state of great nervous irritability started for church, repeating to himself the names, particularly the last, which troubled him the most. Many a change he rang upon it, and by the time he stood before the altar the perspiration was starting from every pore, so anxious was he to acquit himself creditably, and thus avoid the Caudle lecture which was sure to follow a mistake. "But he should not make a mistake; he knew exactly what the name was; he'd said it over a hundred times," and when the minister, taking the baby in his arms, said, "Name this child," he spoke up loud and promptly, jerking out the last word with a vengeance, as if relieved to have it off his mind, "John Joel Jedediah Leusebottom."
"That's for me," was J.C.'s involuntary exclamation, which, however, was lost amid the general titter which ran through the house.
In an agony of anxiety Janet strove to rectify the mistake, while her elbow sought the ribs of her conjugal lord; but the minister paid no heed, and when the screaming infant was given back to its frightened father's arms it bore the name of "John Joel," and nothing more.
To this catastrophe Janet was in a measure reconciled when after church J.C. sought her out and, introducing himself, informed her of the true state of affairs.
