Name/Title
Captain Charless' Burgoo Party, Short Story by Mary Alicia OwenEntry/Object ID
AM2013.3.64Scope and Content
Captain Charless' Burgoo Party, Short Story by Mary Alicia Owen. About a 4th of July celebration in Buchanan County. Unsigned. Undated. Typewritten. 7 pages.
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Captain Charless' Burgoo Party
When Captain Charless realized that his dear friend Al Fenton was not going to be sufficiently recuperated from his attack of "breakbone" fever to supervise the usual Fourth of July barbecue, which was as much a part of the Buchanan County celebration as reading the Declaration of Independence, spread-eagle" oratory and and fireworks, he communed with himself something after this fashion:
"We can't let this day, the annivarsary of the gl-orious occasion when the Angle-Saonx got the back-talk they'd been nadin' f'r cincheries, pass by wit on;y firecrackers f'r the childer an' a dram apace f'r the naygurs. I will, therefore, bein' an adopted citizen of the Land av the Free and Home av the Brave, prosade to inaugurate prosdins mesilf."
Not without reason was this adopted citizen in his enthusiasm for the celebration of Independence Day. He has been "Out with the Boys in "48", and, like many another Irishman, had fled from the Land of Lost Chances to the Republic of Opportunity, when he landed in New York, almost penniless and having knowledge only of the circumscribed areas of Europe, he started to walk to St. Louis, the home of a cousin reputed to have grown wealthy in the hotel business. He did walk to Pittsburg. From thence, this once jaunty cavalry officer, hatless and shoeless, went as a deck-hand on the barge mis-named the :Frolic", as far as Cincinatti. From Cincinatti, with his self-respect reinforced by a new hat, new shoes and a cotton shirt- the first he had ever seen- to replace his lines rags, he continued to St. Louis on the packed Sally Applegate, but not as he could have wished with the gay company of ladies and gentlemen on the upper deck. In a month's time, the hardy captain was weary of his role of petted martyr in the select circles of St. Louis society, so, resplendent in broadcloth and fine lines, he was on the water again, this time the Missouri River, a favorite passenger seated at meal-time at the captain's right hand, the highest compliment the commander of the "w" could pay anyone.
As he afterwards said, "There's hope in the heart when there's money in the pocket", and he had money, a thousand to start a commission business in the little city St. Joseph, for the purpose of sending hemp and buffalo-robes down the river receiving flour, can-sugar and molasses sent up. That the venture prospered was shown by the fine white house he had ready when his motherless daughter was brought by nuns of the Convent of the Sacred heart from the quiet of the old-world cloisters to act as hostess to its rather noisy hospitalities.
"Twill do Moria all the good in the world", he continued to muse. "she's been as good as gould the tin months past since she com oversays, an' she's ben plisent wid the b'ys that since she came oversays, an' the gurrls that thried to kape 'em from it, but she hasn't the enthoosyasm f'r America I c'u'd wish. 'Tis an American pathroit I'm desirin' her to be. I'm hopin' she will find her inspiration in the r'adin an' the spacehafyin' an' The Star Spangled Banner an' the surprisin' av her taste wid the daylecable flavors av burgoo. - Wirra-wirra! I'm makn' talk wit mysilf like an ould crone an' wastin' most vallyble toime whin I shud be askin' Mrs. Patchin, the quane av cooks,the ixact ingradients av thot same burgoo.
"Six squir'ls, six bunnies, six bob-whites, six big pertaters, six big tomatoes, sebenteen years of sweet corn cut often the cob, a couple of big fistful of barley, a hunk o' butter, six red peppers, a dime's worth o' salt. Bile 'em till they're done. Fish out all the bones. When you find the three gallons of water has simmered down to half that much, throw in six perarie-chicken breasts that have been roasted an' chopped up fine an' three biled eggs that's been stained green with spinach-water an three hard-biled eggs that's been stained red with beet-juice. Some o' them Looeybul put-ons adds a quart o' cream jist to show they kin afford it an' them cree-owls from Newerleens drops in a can of eysters, but 'taint right. There! that's all". said Mrs. Patchin."Mrs. Patchin, dear", said the captain, "I'm not wantin' merely enought f'r mesilf at wan male. I'm intindin' to have burgo pairty at Burr Oak Grove on the Fourth av July, owin' to me fri'nd Al Fentin not bein' rekivered enough to attend to the barbecue.
"Haint you goin' to the nothin' but burgoo?" inquired Mrs. Patchin in a shocked voice "Taint nothin' but a started."
"Thot I am!" cried the captain. "Lambs an' bafe an' wild turkies an' geese an' bigs - all auch as can be roated at home be me nagurs - to say nothing ave the wagon-load av bread an; cakes, the cask av pickles, the bar'l av bourbon-"
"Stop right thar!" commanded Mrs. Patchin, in as near to a voice of thunder as her asthma would permit. "Futhermore git out an' don't dast to show your face here agin. Elhannah Patchin was a good a man as ever trod shoe-leather when he was sober, which was two-three times a year maybe, but when he was drunk he was wussn' the blegs of Egypt. More 'n that, ef't hadn't been f'r myself. Jist as you started to talk I was a-layin' it off in my mind to use my soap-kittle an' borry two more an' make you up a mess O'burgoo right thar at the frove, by the hundred gallon ressypee that's a hair-loom in our fambly, but I will NOT lend a hand where gurlin' an' guzzlin's goin' on."
The hero of many skirmished trembles for the success of his party. "Mrs. Patchin, dear", he coaxed, "niver lave me fri'nds to stairve becaz av bourbon. I'll soobstitoot tay, Irish tay, f'r the obnoxious stoof. I niver loiked it well mesilf, so I'll have a bar'll av' rale Irish tay down be the spring fernenst the grove. How's thos?"
"That's all right" agredd Mrs. Patchin, eintirely, mollified. "I don't like tea myself, but there's some that does, an' there'll be plenty of good, cold spring water f'r the rest of us."
"The blissid truth, Mrs. Patchin! Now, with all me troubles lifted aff me shoulders by yir kind promise, I'll go engage a band an' spake wit Jim Craig about the oration."
"Whar's all this to-do uv yourn fur?" questioned Mrs. Patchin. "You aimin' to run fur congress , or sumthin?"
"The saints forbid!" exclaimed the captain, piously.
"'Tis to tache me Moira what she do be lackin' in appraciation av a weddin' where love triumps over a crool an' marcenary parent."
"For the land's sake! Whos's the couple? Do i know 'em? If I was that bride i'd be afraid I'd never git beyant, 'Speak out or keep your mouth shut from this on' if I was gitten' spliced at the grove."
" 'Twill not be at the grove", explained the captain. "As i hev started I'd betther till ye all, Mrs. Patchin, but it must be strictly betune ousilves at present. Here is the sacret: I wint into the office av me young fri'nd Robert Emmett Sarefield, bein wishful thot he sh'ud have pairt in the cilebration, an' I found him wit his hid on his arums an' his arums on his disk.
" 'The saints preserve us! what ails ye, Robert?' I inquire. "Ye're the pitcher av a gurrl that's ate too many pickles, not av a Sarsefield, at all, at all.'
"'I'm in love', he says without lookin' up, 'an' it's a hopeless adoration, he says.
" 'Domminhoo! I says, 'what manner av a gurrl would rayjict a Sarsefield, rillated on his mither's side to the Emmetts? She's not worth wan sigh, avic'
" "Shes's an heiress', he says.
" 'What av thot? 'Tis not her fault. "tis not her blemish, so coort her if she's av good will in the matther."
" "Me mind misgives me I've not acted in honor', he says.
" 'I kissed her', he says.
" "Tis fraquently done', I says. "Didn't ye like the taste av it?"
" 'I did so', he says, lookin' up sn' shmilin' om spite av himsilf, 'an' so did she."
" "Thin, what ails ye spalpeen?' I ask him.
" "It was like this', he says, not replyin' to me, but to himsilf,' it was foine moonlit night we had the picnic at Lake Contrary, an, whin we wint on the wather some fool-I man some angel-rocked the boat, an' I flung me arum about her to be ready in case av imargency an' I niver thought to tak it away till we rached the shore.'
" 'We were the last fr'm the boat', he goes on whin I all but kicked 'Im, 'an' the lad wit the boat-hook gav' the ould scow a big boomp- I prasinted him a dollar before we kim away-thrown' our counterances together, an', naturally, there was a kiss, follied by five r' sax more, I didn't count thim."
" "Thin what?' I axes whin he does nothin' but grin himsilf.
" 'We sthrolled into the shade av the cottonwoods, kapin' behint the others', he says, whin I pound on his table an' till him I'll soon be out av patience wit him, 'an'' prisintly, I begin to come to me sinses an' I confessed to her wurred thot she'd enj'y it wit me an' not annythin' in the wide worreld any more wit's out me. She is acquainted wit provery only be name, so I'm in torment, fearin' I'll br'ak her hairt if I lave her, an' kill her wit hairdship if I tak her. I can't mak up me moind if it's best to run away wit her or not', he says. "I've but a few hundred in bank an' a few more in notes from me clients. Ye can persaive her fayther'd scorn it if I axed his consint."
" 'The murtherin' ould miser!' I says. "Didn't he be takin' some mon's dear colleen to wife whin he was young? Whist noo! we'll tache 'I'm the lesson. Hand me the notes an' ye shall have cash f'r 'em, an' thot will enable ye to rin away wit her an' shtay till the ould blaggard re'lizes thot he'll have to accept a son to regain a dochter."
"He kep' insistin' on goin' into pairticulars, but w'u'd not allow ut. "No', I says, 'It is my wish to be as shurprised as annyone whin the news comes out."
He was.
The patriotic exercises were over and the crowds collecting around the long tables where shiny-faced darkies were serving wooden bowls of burgoo to the men and China plates of cold meats and sweets to the ladies and children, when a messenger rode up to the smiling captain with a sealed letter marked "Immediate".
"Here is something about me young fri'nd Sarsefield's weddin', I doubt not", he remarked as he took the missive from its envelope.
He was correct in his statement. Here was what he read:
"Dear Father Charless,
"We have taken your advise and are now one until death does us part. As we are rather bashful, we will not meet you at the grove as you suggested, but hope to have
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