Gypsy Tour Magic

(from The Enthusiast, May 1920)
by Jed Parsons

"I'm tellin' ya, Jed, Gypsy Touring's the greatest ante-dote there is for love-sick hearts, and more often it's the means of re-u-niting those self-same love-sick hearts and makin' them one again. I know. I've been on more than one Gypsy Tour, and I've seen it work wonders. I've seen it re-make men who thought of nothing but themselves and what they could get so that they would help their wives wash the dishes and mind the kid at night as meek as lambs for at least a week afterwards. Yes-s-s -- " and Tom Gordon, who stringing off his philo-soph-i-cal yarn to me, gazed recollectin' like for a minute, past the row of beautiful new Harley-Davidsons standing in the show window of his store without even seein' 'em.

"Why, if a man goes on a Gypsy Tour, he doesn't need a tonic all the year 'round, because that's the best tonic he could possibly take. There's sumthin' about a Gypsy Tour -- a spirit of good fellowship or sumthin' or uther -- that makes a fellow feel that afterall live's wortha livin', even if he was the biggest pess-er-mist ermaginable before that. 'Gypsy Tour Magic,' I call it." At this point, Tom Gordon's gaze came back to earth and to me; then he smiles at me reassuring like and pats me on the back and says, "Com' on over here, Jed, and I'll tell ya how you can work that 'Gypsy Tour Magic' to your advantage, and get that Jen of yours back."

You may think it's funny that Tom Gordon was so friendly to me and seemed to know all about my personal affairs, but you see I got so lonesome without Jen and Sadie -- of course, you remember that's my Harley-Davidson -- after she (Sadie) was sent to Milwaukee for a fixin' up and I had that fallin' out with Jen that I just had to go to somebody to unburden myself. I'd go up to Tom Gordon's of an evenin' to find out if he'd heard anything from Milwaukee as to how Sadie was getting along, and pretty soon -- I don't know if it was that there sympathetic way he has with him or what -- I'd spilled the whole story to him about how neglectful I was of Sadie and how Jen deserted me for that Bill White because of it, and how badly I missed Jen.

And that's how he came to be handing out his advice to me the day before the big Mayville Gypsy Tour was to come off. You see, Sadie had just come in from Milwaukee on the afternoon express and Tom was trying to per-swuade me to join the Gypsy Tourists on the morrow. I can't say that I took to the idea like a "duck does to water," because I wasn't any too anxious to go on that tour and see Billy White actin' the fool and makin' eyes at my Jen the livelong day. But, believe me! An offer of a million dollars couldn't 'ave made me stay away from that Gypsy Tour after Tom Gordon had unfolded his plan. Not on your life, John! And as I mount Sadie to take her home, being careful not to get my feet against her newly painted sides, I promised Tom that I'd be there, with bells on, at eight o'clock sharp.

Gypsy Tour Day! Oh, boy! Never as long as I live will I forget that day. Neither will -- -, but that's getting ahead of the story. When I got up that morning, I says to myself, "Now, Jed, my boy, take special pains in dollin' up this morning, because you know you're goin' out to conquer your lady-love today." And believe me, I did. I washes and shaves and dons my new riding suit, puttees and all, and then steps before the glass and look at myself. Oh, man, Tommie was right! Gee! I certainly did look spiffy. Yes, even better, I has to admit to myself, than Bill White ever did or could look.

Then, after I gets out to the garage that I has fixed out of the old woodshed, I uncovers Sadie, gets a soft cloth and starts shinin' up her sides lovin'ly. "Sadie, old girl," says I to her, "you must look your best today. We've got work before us." And Sadie sure did respond. She just glowed all over. Half an hour later when I pulls up in front of Tom Gordon's shop, I was rewarded for all my trouble. First one and then another of the riders comes up to me and says, "Say, Jed, you sure 'ave got some nifty looking outfit there. What 'd ya do to her? And say, that riding suit you've got there, certainly does take the prize. Neatest and nattiest looking togs 'round here." Then when Billy White drew up his Harley-Davidson along the curbing a few feet in front of me, I caught Jen, who was his sidecar passenger, of course, casting admiring looks at Sadie and me on the sly. Jen herself was lookin' so pretty in that smock affair that she had on that I could almost feel myself turning green with envy, until I remembers what Tom told me.

"I nods and smiles at Jen, but all she gives me is a North Pole nod. "Never mind, you little iceberg" thinks I to myself, "you'll thaw out before the day is over. Just wait until that there 'Gypsy Tour Magic' starts workin'."

"Why, Jed, you look kinda lonesome. Haven't you a sweetheart to take in your sidecar?" asks Tom Gordon a few minutes later when he hands me my badge. We exchange knowing glances, and then I replies, loud enough so that Jen could hear and lookin' straight at her, that I doesn't expect to be alone when I return. Oh mother, the freezing look she gave me! Tom gives me a jab and whispers, "Never mind, Jed, remember what I said." But even at that, it was pretty hard to keep my spirits up.

I forgot all about being derjected and op-pressed though when we Gypsy Tourists started out a few minutes later. We sure looked great -- our long line of machines, everyone shining with cleanliness, going along the road. There must have been about twenty of us, and Sadie -- yes, my beloved Sadie -- I believed looked the best of all.

And, oh, how good it made you feel to think that you were one of the bunch and that we were all going along the road together. Somebody would shout to you from one direction and somebody from another -- Gee! So friendly and good-natured-like that your heart began to swell up inside of you so that you's almost have to pinch yourself at times to make yourself believe that you were there. Anyhow, that's the way I felt. I began to think there was something in Tom's "Gypsy Tour Magic" after all, and I gets to wondering if everybody else felt like that, and most of all, if Jen did. She was always such a tender-hearted little thing.

By an' by, as we glides over the road, I gets to noticin' what a wonderful day it is. Beautiful blue sky with lazy white clouds floatin' 'round here and there, and Old Mother Sol beaming away and shedding her golden light all over everthin' -- the trees swaying with the light breeze, the fields, the road, and us. Oh -- words are useless, as the writer men would say. All I know is before long I gets to feelin' real happy and contented like all over, and forgets -- almost -- that I ever was crossed in love, and that my girl was just a few feet ahead with a man I didn't know -- now, did I really hate that man so much? It makes me sit up and gets me to thinkin'. And then all at once I has to laugh when it comes to me that it must be Tom's "Gypsy Tour Magic" workin'. "Well, let it work," thinks I, "if it'll work on Jen, too."

Soon, I gets a suspicion that it was workin' on her. This was right after we reached Bowling Creek, the end of the tour, and started parkin' our machines. I parked Sadie a little ways away from the others behind a clump of bushes, having purpose in doing so that you will learn later. When I walks out into the open space a few minutes later where the women and girls were already spreading lunch, I passes Jen. She almost dazzled me eyes with the sweet smile she gives me, but as soon as I starts going towards her, she gets her lips together real tight and turns away. I could 'ave kicked myself then for being so hasty and not bidin' my time.

The Gypsy Tour dinner is an occasion that I don't think I'll ever forget, if I live to a hundred. Everthin' tasted so good. Everybody was so jolly and carefree. Everybody -- of course, except me -- Jen and Bill White. Maybe they would 'ave been if I hadn't been sitting there next to them, but I doubts it much, knowing what I know now. The fact is though I was having a great time with Jen and Bill. I started them agoin' by sayin' in a pleasant, conversational tone of voice, "It's a beautiful day, isn't it?" To which, Bill grunted, "Uh-huh," and Jen said, "Yes," in a way that I knew she felt more like askin' what I was buttin' in for. Well, all during the whole meal I keeps up a string of comments like this. Towards the end Bill starts to lower his danger signals a little, but Jen was just as freezin' as ever.

All during the afternoon everybody did just as he pleased. The young fellers strolled off with their sweetheart. The kiddies went wading in the creek, and some of the men, fishing. Women gathered in groups and chattered away like a lot of magpies -- and I -- Oh, of course, that Bill White had sneaked off with Jen, so all I could do was lay under a tree and think up plans for revenge. If I only could have known then how soon my chance was comin', I wouldn't have wasted so much perfectly good time and brains schemin' away there.

Later on Tom Gordon got the crowd together and they played games and races so that by the time supper was ready, everybody was all flushed up and almost breathless with happiness. I sat down next to Jen and Billy as I had at noon, and almost fell over with surprise -- they were so much more civil to me. "Tom's 'Gypsy Tour Magic's' workin,'" say I gleefully to myself. But I didn't let on to them that I was feelin' so good, you can bet your sweet life. Instead, I starts pullin' a longer and sadder lookin' face, and presently I shuts up altogether and just sits glumlike. Once I saw Jen steal a glance towards me, inquirin'ly, but I only looked gloomier.

It was just as the soft twilight came on that Tom and I staged our -- climax, isn't that what they call it? I was very careful to place myself within earshot of Jen so that when Tom came along and slapped me on the shoulder, as per our pre-arranged plan, and asked me what I was lookin' so glum about, she could hear everythin' that we said. Says I to Tom, in a derjected sorta soundin' voice, "I feel so lonesome and blue, Tom. She won't even look at me. You won't mind, will you, if I go off by myself and sit in my sidecar. Think I might feel better if I get alone." Out of the corner of my eyes, I sees Jen's face take on a real conscience-stricken look. Tom, noticin' the look, too, whispers, "You've got her, Jed. Just sit tight."

I went and sat in the sidecar. To get the proper effect -- that's what it's called, isn't it? I leans my head on the arms of the sidecar. Five minutes pass -- five more -- two -- three -- all at once I hear soft footsteps and the swish of a woman's skirts. I do not stir. Presently I tingles all over with the feel of soft fingers on mine. Then I hears Jen's voice -- such a meek little voice for her's -- say, "Jed, darling, can't we make up?" Make up! Ye gods! It didn't take me two shakes of a lamb's tail to get that little girl down into the sidecar with me.

Time passes. By an' by, lookin' over Jen's head which is restin' on my shoulder, I sees Bill White gazin' at us a few feet away lookin madder 'an blazes, until catchin' his eye, I gives him a friendly smile -- not havin' any grudge against him anymore. When I smiles that way at him, he looks a little less mad, then I notices that the corners of his mouth begins to twitch, and pretty soon he grins at me in a way that says, "As long as you've won, old man, I'm game," and turns away. Jen sat up just at this time, so we both watches him walk away feeling about as happy as two mortals ever were, I guess. "Poor Billy," Jen whispers. "Wise Tom," I says to myself.

And an hour later, when the whole line of us are on our way beneath the soft moonlight, Jenny snuggled up close to me, and laughter and singing going on all 'round us, I winks at the wise old moon and then at Tom a little further on. "Gypsy Tour Magic!" says I to him, and never a word would we explain to Jen.



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