"Waal, the comic war a-cuttin' a pretty showy figger down yander at
Colbury. 'Ston-ishin' how much store folks do 'pear ter set on it!
They hed rigged up some sort'n peepin'-glass in the Court-House yard,
an' thar war mighty nigh the whole town a-squinchin' up one eye ter
examinate the consarn through it--all the court off'cers,
'torney-gin'ral, an' sech, an' old Doctor Kane an' Jedge Peters,
besides a whole passel o' ginerality folks. They 'lowed the glass made
it 'pear bigger."
"Did it?" she asked, with sudden interest.
"Bless yer soul, chile, _I_ didn't hev time ter waste on it. Jedge
Peters he beckoned ter me, an' 'lowed he'd interjuce me ter it; but I
'lowed the comic outside war plenty big enough fur me. 'Jedge,' I
says, 'my mission hyar air ter make onnecessary things seem _small_,
not magnified. That's why I'm continually belittlin' Rolf Quigley. Wat
kin go on lookin' cross-eyed at the stars, ef so minded, but I be
bound ter tend ter the 'lection.' An' the jedge laffed and says:
'Justus, nex' time I want ter git 'lected ter office, I'm goin' ter
git _ye_ ter boost me in. Ye hev got it a sight mo' at heart than yer
brother.' Fur thar war Wat, all twisted up at the small e-end o' the
tellingscope, purtendin' ter be on mighty close terms with the comic,
though lots o' other men said it jes' dazed thar eyes, an' they
couldn't see _nuthin'_ through it, an' mighty leetle arterward through
sightin' so long one-eyed."
"Waal, how's the prospects fur the 'lection?" she asked.
"Fine! Fine!" he answered with gusto. "Folks all be so frien'ly
everywhar ter we-uns."
He leaned his shoulder suddenly back against the rough rails of the
fence. His hat was in his hand. His hair, fine, thin, chestnut-brown,
and closely clinging about his narrow head, was thrown back from his
forehead. His clear blue eyes were turned upward, with the light of
reminiscence slowly dawning in them. It may have been the reflection
of the dazzling flake of cloud, it may have been some mental
illumination, but a sort of radiance was breaking over the keen,
irregular lines of his features, and a flush other than the floridity
of a naturally fair complexion was upon his thin cheek and hollow
temple.
"O The'dosia," he cried, "I can't holp thinkin', hevin' so many
frien's nowadays,--whenst it's 'Hail!' hyar, an' 'Howdy!' thar, an' a
clap on the shoulder ter the east, an' a 'How's yer health?' ter the
west, an' a handshake ter the north, an' 'Take a drink?' ter the
south, from one e-end o' the county ter the t'other,--how I fared
whenst I hed jes' _one_ frien' in the worl', an' that war yer mother!
An' how she looked the fust day she stood in the door o' my cabin up
thar--kem ter nuss Elmiry through that spell she hed o' the scarlet
fever. An' arterward she says ter me: 'Ye do manage s'prisin', Justus;
an' I be goin' ter save ye some gyardin seed out'n my patch this year,
an' ef ye'll plough my patch I'll loan ye my horse-critter ter plough
your'n. An' the gals kin kem an' l'arn ter sew an' churn, an' sech,
long o' 'Dosia.' An' how they loved ye, 'Dosia--special Elmiry!"
His eyes filled with sudden tears. They did not fall; they were
absorbed somehow as he resumed:--
"Sech a superflu'ty o' frien's nowadays! Ef 't warn't they'd count fur
all they're wuth in the ballot-box, I'd hev no use fur 'em. I kin
sca'cely 'member thar names. But then I hed jes' _one_--jes' _one_ in
all the worl'--yer mother! Bless her soul!" he concluded
enthusiastically.
He was still and reflective for a moment. Then he made a motion as
though he would take one of Theodosia's hands. But she clasped both of
them demurely behind her.
"I don't hold hands with no man ez blesses another 'oman's soul by the
hour," she said, with an affectation of primness.
There may have been something more serious in her playful rebuff, but
in the serenity of his perfect security he did not feel it or gauge
its depth.
A glimpse of her mother at the window added its suggestion--a lean,
sallow, lined face, full of anxious furrows, with a rim of scanty
gray-streaked hair about the brow, with spectacles perched above, and
beneath the flabby jaw a scraggy, wrinkled neck.
"An' she's so powerful pretty!" Theodosia exclaimed, with an
irreverent burst of laughter, "I don't wonder ye feel obligated ter
bless her soul."
"She 'pears plumb beautiful to my mind," he said unequivocally,--"all
of a piece with her beautiful life."
Theodosia was suddenly grave, angered into a secret, sullen
irritation. These were words she loved for herself: it was but lately
she had learned so to prize them. Her eyes were as bright as a deer's!
Had not some one protested this, with a good round rural oath as
attestation? Her hair on the back of her head, and its shape to the
nape of her neck, were so beautiful--she had never seen it: how could
she say it wasn't? Her chin and her throat--well, if people could
think snow was a prettier white, he wouldn't give much for _their_
head-stuffin'. And her blush! her blush! It was her own fault. He
would not have taken another kiss if she had not blushed so at the
first that he must needs again see her cheek glow like the wild rose.
These were echoes of a love-making that had lately taken hold of her
heart, that had grown insistently sweet and dear to her, that had
established its sway impetuously, tyrannically, over her life, that
had caused her to seem more to herself, and as if she were infinitely
more to her new lover.
She wondered how she could ever have even tolerated this dullard, with
his slow, measured preference, his unquestioning security of her
heart, his doltish credulity in her and her promise, his humble
gratitude to her mother,--who had often enough, in good sooth, got
full value in return for aught she gave,--who appeared "beautiful" to
his mind. She broke forth abruptly, her cheeks flushing, her eyes
brave and bright, the subject nearest her heart on her lips, in the
sudden influx of courage set astir by the mere contemplation of it.
"Waal now, tell 'bout Wat--how he enj'ys bein' a candidate, an' sech."
Then, with a tremor because of her temerity: "I have hearn o' that
thar beautisome old 'oman a time or two afore, but Wat ez a candidate
air sorter fraish an' new."
He turned his clear, unsuspicious eyes upon her. He had replaced his
wide wool hat on his head, and he leaned forward, resting his cheek on
his hand and his elbow on his knee. He aimlessly flicked his long
spurred boot, as he talked, with a willow wand which he carried in
lieu of horsewhip.
"Waal, Wat is some similar ter a balky horse. He don't seem ter sense
a word I say, nor ter be willin' ter do a thing I advise, nor even ter
take heart o' grace 'bout bein' 'lected, till we gets out 'mongst
folks, an' _thar_ handshakin's and frien'liness seems ter hearten up
the critter. I hev jes' hed ter baig an' baig, an' plead an' plead,
with that boy 'bout this an' that an' t'other, till I wouldn't go
through ag'in what I _hev_ been through ter git 'lected doorkeeper o'
heaven. But," with a sudden change of tone and a flush of pride,
"The'dosia, ye dunno what a' all-fired pretty speaker Wat hev got ter
be. Jes' stan's up ez straight an' smilin' afore all the crowd, an'
jes' tells off his p'ints, one, two, three, ez nip! An' the crowd
always cheers an' cheers--jes' bawls itse'f hoarse. Whenever thar's a
chance ter speak, Wat jes' leaves them t'other candidates nowhar."
Ah, Theodosia's beauty well deserved the guerdon of sweet words. She
might have been pictured as a thirsting Hebe. She had a look of
quaffing some cup of nectar, still craving its depths, so immediate a
joy, so intense a light, were in her widely open eyes; her lips were
parted; the spray of blackberry leaves that she held near her cheek
did not quiver, so had her interest petrified every muscle. She was
leaning slightly forward; her red sunbonnet had fallen to the ground,
and the wind tossed her dark brown hair till the heavy masses, with
their curling ends disheveled, showed tendrils of golden hue. Her
round, plump arm was like ivory. The torn sleeve fell away to the
elbow, and her mother, glancing out of the window, took remorseful
heed of it, and wished that she herself had set a stitch in it.
"The'dosia shows herself so back'ard 'bout mendin', an' sech--she air
enough ter skeer any man away. An' Justus knows jes' what sech
laziness means. Kin mend clothes hisse'f ez good ez the nex' one, an'
useter do it too, strong an' taut, with a double thread, whenst the
fambly war leetle chil'n an' gin ter bustin' out'n thar gear."
But Justus took no note of the significance of the torn sleeve.
"Why, 'Dosia," he went on, "everybody 'lowed ez Wat's speeches seemed
ter sense what the people wanted ter hear. Him an' me we'd talk it
over the night before, an' Wat he'd write down what we said on paper
an' mem'rize it; an' the nex' day, why, folks that wouldn't hev
nuthin' ter say ter him afore he spoke would be jes' aidgin' up
through the crowd ter git ter shake han's with him."
She smiled with delight at the picture. If it were sweet to him to
praise, how sweet it was to her to listen! "Tell on!" she said softly.
Her interest flattered him; it enriched the reminiscence, dear though
his memory held it. He had no doubt as to the unity of feeling with
which they both regarded the incidents he chronicled. He went on with
the certainty of responsive sentiment, the ease, the serenity of a man
who opens his heart to the woman he loves.
"Why, 'Dosia," he said, "often, often if it hed n't been fur the
folks, I could hev run up an' dragged him off'n the rostrum an' hugged
him fur pride, he looked so han'some an' spoke so peart! An' ter think
't war jes' our leetle Wat--the Fambly's leetle Wat--growed up ter be
sech a man! Ye'll laff at me--other folks did--whenst I tell ye that
ag'in an' ag'in I jes' cotch' myse'f cheerin' with the loudest. I
could n't holp it."
"He'll be 'lected, Justus?" she breathlessly inquired, and yet
imperatively, as if, even though she asked, she would brook no denial.
"Oh, they all say thar's no doubt--no doubt at all."
She drew a long breath of contentment, of pleasure. She leaned back,
silent and reflective, against the rail fence behind the bench, her
eyes fixed, absorbed, following the outline of other scenes than the
one before them, which indeed left no impression upon her senses,
scenes to come, slowly shaping the future. All trace of the red glow
of the sun had departed from the landscape. No heavy, light-absorbing,
sad-hued tapestries could wear so deep a purple, such sombre
suggestions of green, as the circling mountains had now assumed: they
were not black, and yet such depths of darkness hardly comported with
the idea of color. The neutral tints of the sky were graded more
definitely, with purer transparency, because of the contrast. The
fine grays were akin to pearl color, to lavender, even, in approaching
the zenith, to the palest of blue--so pale that the white glitter of a
star alternately appeared and was lost again in its tranquil
inexpressiveness. The river seemed suddenly awake; its voice was
lifted loud upon the evening air, a rhythmic song without words. The
frogs chanted by the waterside. Fireflies here and there quivered
palely over the flat cornfields at the back of the house. There was a
light within, dully showing through the vines at the window.
"An' then, 'Dosia," said Justus softly, "when the 'lection is over,
it's time fur ye an' me ter git married."
She roused herself with an obvious effort, and looked
uncomprehendingly at him for a moment, as if she hardly heard.
"The las' one o' Fambly will be off my han's then. Fambly will hev
been pervided fur--every one, Wat an' all. I hev done my bes' fur
Fambly, an' I dunno but I hev earned the right ter think some fur
myse'f now."
He would not perhaps have arrogated so much, except to the woman by
whom he believed himself beloved. She said nothing, and he went on
slowly, lingering upon the words as if he loved the prospect they
conjured up.
"We-uns will hev the gyardin an' orchard, an' pastur' an' woods-lot
an' fields, ter tend ter, an' the cows an' bees, an' the mare an'
filly, an' peegs an' poultry, ter look arter. An' the house air all
tight, the roof an' all in good repair, an' we-uns will have it all
ter ourselves."
She turned upon him with sudden interest.
"What will kem o' Wat?"
"Oh, he mus' live in town whilst sher'ff, bein' off'cer o' the court
an' official keeper o' jail, though he kin app'int a jailer."
"Live in Colbury!" she exclaimed in wonderment.
Justus laughed in triumph. "Oh, I tell ye, Wat's 'way up in the
pictur's! He'll be a reg'lar town man 'fore long, I reckon, dandified
an' sniptious ez the nex' one, marryin' one o' them finified town gals
ez wear straw hats stiddier sunbonnets,--though they _do_ look ter be
about ez flimsy an' no-'count cattle ez any I ever see," the sterling
rural standpoint modifying his relish of Walter's frivolous worldly
opportunities.
She tossed her head in defiance of some sudden unspoken thought. As
she lifted her eyes, fired by pride, she saw the comet all a-glitter
in the darkening sky.
She hardly knew that he had seized her hand; but his importunity must
be answered.
"D'rec'ly after the 'lection--'lection day, 'Dosia?" he urged.
"Ain't ye got no jedgmint," she temporized, laughing unmirthfully,
"axin' sech a question ez that under that onlucky comet!"
"I hev been waitin' so long, 'Dosia!"
It was the first suggestion of complaint she had ever heard from him.
"Then ye air used ter waitin', an' 't won't kill ye ter wait a leetle
longer. I'll let ye know 'lection day."