[Illustration: 'H']
Hello, doc'; come in! Don't ask me to shake hands, though; 't least, not
tell I can drop this 'ere piece o' ribbin.
I never reelized how much shenanigan it took to tie a bow o' ribbin tell
I started experimentin' with this here buggy-whup o' Sonny's.
An' he wants it tied _thess so_. He's a reg'lar Miss Nancy, come to
taste.
All the boys, nowadays, they seem to think thet ez soon ez they
commence to keep company, they must have ribbin bows tied on their
buggy-whups--an' I reckon it's in accordance, ef anything is. I thess
called you in to look at his new buggy, doctor. You've had your first
innin's, ez the base-ball fellers says, at all o' his various an' sundry
celebrations, from his first appearance to his gradj'atin', and I'll
call your attention to a thing I wouldn't mention to a' outsider.
Sence he taken a notion to take the girls out a-ridin', why, I intend
for him to do it in proper style; an' I went an' selected this buggy
myself.
It is sort o' fancy, maybe, for the country, but I knew he'd like it
fancy--at his age. I got it good an' high, so's it could straddle stumps
good. They's so many tree-stumps in our woods, an' I know Sonny ain't
a-goin' to drive nowhere _but_ in the woods so long ez they's a livin'
thin' to scurry away at his approach, or a flower left in bloom, or a
last year's bird's nest to gether. An' the little Sweetheart, why, she's
got so thet she's ez anxious to fetch home things to study over ez he
is.
Yas; I think it is, ez you say, a fus'-class little buggy.
Sonny ain't never did nothin' half-ways,--not even mischief,--an'
I ain't a-goin' in, at this stage o' his raisin', to stint him.
List'n at me sayin' "raisin'" ag'in, after all Miss Phoebe has preached
to me about it! She claims thet folks has to be fetched up,--or "brung
up" I believe she calls it,--an' I don't doubt she knows.
She allows thet pigs is raised, an' potaters, an' even chickens; an' she
said, one day, thet ef I insisted on "raisin'" child'en, she'd _raise a
row_. She's a quick hand to turn a joke, Miss Phoebe is.
Nobody thet ever lived in Simpkinsville would claim thet rows couldn't
be raised, I'm shore, after all the fuss thet's been made over puttin'
daytime candles in our 'piscopal church. Funny how folks'll fuss about
sech a little thing when, ef they'd stop to think, they's so many mo'
important subjec's thet they could git up diffe'nces of opinion on.
I didn't see no partic'lar use in lightin' the candles myself, bein' ez
we didn't need 'em to see by, an' shorely the good Lord thet can speak
out a sun any time he needs a extry taper couldn't be said to take no
pleasure in a Simpkinsville home-dipped candle. But the way I look at
it, seem like ef some wants em, why not?
Th' ain't nothin' mo' innercent than a lighted candle,--kep' away up on
the wall out o' the draft, the way they are in church,--an' so, when it
come to votin' on it, why, I count peace an' good-will so far ahead o'
taller thet I voted thet I was good for ez many candles ez any other man
would give. An' quick ez I said them words, why, Enoch Johnson up an'
doubled his number. It tickled me to see him do it, too.
Enoch hates me thess because he's got a stupid boy--like ez ef that was
any o' my fault. His Sam failed to pass at the preliminar' examination,
an' wasn't allowed to try for a diplomy in public; an' Enoch an' his
wife, why, they seem to hold it ag'in' me thet Sonny could step in at
the last moment an' take what their boy could n't git th'oo the trials
an' tribulations of a whole year o' bein' teached lessons at home an'
wrestled in prayer over.
I ain't got a thing ag'in' Enoch, not a thing--not even for makin' me
double my number o' candles. Mo' 'n that, I'd brighten up Sam's mind for
'im in a minute, ef I could.