The Blossoming Rod

The Blossoming Rod

The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Blossoming Rod, by Mary Stewart
Cutting
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Title: The Blossoming Rod
Author: Mary Stewart Cutting
Release Date: February 7, 2005 [eBook #14946]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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BLOSSOMING ROD***
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THE BLOSSOMING ROD
by

MARY STEWART CUTTING
A.L. Burt Company Publishers New York Doubleday, Page &
Company

[Illustration: He was out in the backyard ... flapping that rod in circles]

Mr. Langshaw had vaguely felt unusual preparations for a Christmas
gift to him this year; he was always being asked for "change" to pay the
children for services rendered.
It might have seemed a pity that calculation as to dollars and cents
entered so much into the Christmas festivities of the family, if it were
not that it entered so largely into the scheme of living that it was
naturally interwoven with every dearest hope and fancy; the
overcoming of its limitations gave a zest to life. Langshaw himself,
stopping now, as was his daily habit, to look at the display made by the
sporting-goods shop on his way home the Friday afternoon before
Christmas Monday, wondered, as his hand touched the ten-dollar bill in
his pocket--a debt unexpectedly paid him that day--if the time had
actually arrived at last when he might become the possessor of the
trout-rod that stood in the corner of the window; reduced, as the ticket
proclaimed, from fifteen dollars to ten.
The inspiration was the more welcome because the moment before his
mind had been idly yet disquietingly filled with the shortcomings of
George, his eldest child, and only son, aged ten, who didn't seem to
show that sense of responsibility which his position and advanced years
called for--even evading his duties to his fond mother when he should
be constituting himself her protector. He was worried as to the way
George would turn out when he grew up.
This particular trout-rod, however, had an attraction for Langshaw of
long standing. He had examined it carefully more than once when in
the shop with his neighbour, Wickersham; it wasn't a fifty-dollar rod, of

course, but it seemed in some ways as good as if it were--it was
expensive enough for him! He had spoken of it once to his wife, with a
craving for her usual sympathy, only to meet with a surprise that
seemed carelessly disapproving.
"Why, you have that old one of your father's and the bass-rod already; I
can't see why you should want another. You always say you can't get
off to go fishing as it is."
He couldn't explain that to have this particular split bamboo would be
almost as good as going on a fishing trip; with it in his hand he could
feel himself between green meadows, the line swirling down the
rushing brook. But later Clytie had gone back to the subject with
pondering consideration.
"Ten dollars seems an awful price for a rod! I'm sure I could buy the
same thing for much less uptown; wouldn't you like me to see about it
some day?"
"Great Scott! Never think of such a thing!" he had replied in horror. "I
could get much cheaper ones myself! If I ever have the money I'll do
the buying--you hear?"
"--Hello, Langshaw! Looking at that rod again? Why don't you blow
yourself to a Christmas present? Haven't you got the nerve?"
"That's what I don't know!" called Langshaw with a wave of the hand
as Wickersham passed by. Yet, even as he spoke he felt he did
know--his mind was joyously, adventurously made up to have "the
nerve"; he had a right, for once in the twelve years of his married life,
to buy himself a Christmas present that he really wanted, in distinction
to the gift that family affection prompted, and held dear as such, but
which had no relation to his needs or desires. Children and friends were
provided for; his wife's winter suit--a present by her transforming
imagination--already in the house; the Christmas turkey for the janitor
of the children's school subscribed to--sometimes he had wished
himself the janitor!--and all the small demands that drain the purse at
the festal season carefully counted up and allowed for. There was no

lien on this unexpected sum just received. The reel and the line, and the
flies and such, would have to wait until another time, to be sure; but no
one could realize