THE END OF AN EVENTFUL DAY
THINGS kept on happening. When I got out of the buggy to open the big
gate leading into the avenue, a gate that was supposed to work by
pulling a string but which never did, I saw some peculiar tracks in the
dust of the road.
"An automobile has gone in," I exclaimed, "and hasn't gone out, either!
Look, the tracks don't come back!"
"Heavens! I do hope I am not to go out again," said Father wearily. "I'd
like to sit on the back of my neck in my sleepy-hollow chair and talk or
listen as the case might be. I am too tired even to read."
"Me, too! And hungry's not the word!"
"A midday dinner gets mighty far off by supper time. I hope Susan
realizes that."
A dusty Ford car was drawn up near the stile block. It looked familiar,
but then all Fords have a way of looking that.
"Who on earth can it be? Well, if I have to go out again at least you
and the colt won't," sighed the poor country doctor. "I am going to make
the owner of that car carry me wherever I am to go and what's more bring
me back. I am not going to sit on the front seat with him, either, and
listen to his jabber. Me for the rear and a whole seat to myself. I
might even get a nap."
A sudden opening of the front door and who should come tearing out but
Dum and Dee Tucker and Zebedee? Of course the lines of the dusty car
were familiar: Henry Ford himself, faithful servitor!
The tired feeling vanished very quickly in our joy at the disclosure of
the owner of the car. Father was always glad to see the Tuckers but was
doubly glad now, because it being the Tuckers, meant it was not someone
to snatch him away from his sleepy-hollow chair.
At Mammy Susan's instigation the twins were already installed in my
room. There were plenty of guest chambers at Bracken, but we always
liked to be in the same room. Whenever we had tried sleeping in separate
rooms we felt we had missed something.
"How did it happen?" I cried, hugging the twins again as we hastened to
my room to make ourselves fit for the supper that Mammy Susan warned us
she was a-dishin' up.
"Well, we are having a Tucker discussion and we thought you and Dr.
Allison should be called in consultation, especially as you are one of
the parties concerned," answered Dum.
"Me?"
"Yes, you! We'd like to know what plan we could make where you were not
concerned," put in Dee.
"Please tell me what it is!"
"Wait until after supper, and when the men-folks light their pipes, then
we can talk it out. You can do twice as much with Zebedee when he is
fed," said the knowing Dee.
"Father, too, is more amenable to reason," I laughed.
Mammy Susan had fully realized that a midday dinner is a long way from
supper and had planned a royal feast for us, and when the Tuckers
arrived she added to her menu to suit their tastes and appetites. Mammy
Susan always remembered what guests liked best, and no matter how much
trouble it was to her, usually managed to have that particular dish. The
Tuckers were prime favorites with the dear old woman and she could not
do enough for them.
Supper over, we adjourned to the library where a cheery wood fire was
crackling in the great fireplace. There was frost in the air and a fire
was quite acceptable, although we had the windows wide open. Father and
I loved to make up a big fire and then have plenty of cold fresh air.
"I can't see the use er heatin' up the whole er Bracken, but if
Docallison is a-willin' ter pay fer cuttin' the wood, 'tain't fer me ter
'jec'," said Mammy Susan as she peeped in to see that there was plenty
of wood, hoping in her secret soul that there would not be so she could
have some excuse for quarreling with the yard boy. Mammy Susan waged an
eternal warfare with the yard boy, whoever he might be. We had so many
it was hard to keep up with their changing names, so Father called them
all George.
It was dear Mammy's one failing. She simply could not live in peace with
other servants. We had long ago given up trying to have a housemaid, as
Mammy Susan would have complained of the lack of efficiency of a
graduate of a domestic science school of the first standing. No one
could help her cook. Mrs. Rorer herself would have been found wanting in
the culinary department of Bracken.
"Humph! Wood enough fer onct!" she grumbled. "If'n I hadn' er got right
behin' that there so-called George there wouldn' er been. He is the
triflinges' nigger," she mumbled, as she went through the hall. Zebedee
ran after her and her grumblings were changed to chucklings by something
that passed between them.
"Poor old Susan!" said Father, as he sank into the deepest hollow of his
chair. "She is so capable herself that she expects all of her race to
toe the mark, too. She is very lenient with the white people whom she
loves and absolutely adamantine with the coloreds. The white folks can
do no wrong and the black folks can do no right."
Pipes were filled for the two parents and a box of candy opened for the
daughters, and then we were ready for the business of the day to be
discussed.
"Dr. Allison, what are you going to do with Page this winter?" asked Mr.
Tucker.
"Do with Page! Why--nothing but--nothing at all."
"Oh, but, doctor----" broke in Dum and in the same breath Dee clamored:
"We want----" but nobody heard what we wanted as I had to put in my oar
saying I thought I ought to stay at home.
"Now, see here, if we all of us talk at once we won't get anywhere, and
we might just as well have stayed in Richmond," complained Zebedee.
"Well, let's appoint a chairman then," I suggested, "and everybody
address the chair. I nominate Mr. Tucker chairman pro tem."
He was duly elected.
"Nominations are in order for chairman," and the chairman pro tem rapped
for order.
"I nominate Mr. Tucker for chairman," said Father contentedly from his
easy chair.
"I second the nomination," from me.
"I nominate Dr. Allison!" cried Dum.
"Second the nomination!" said Dee, jumping to her feet for a speech.
"Zebedee is too Mr. Tuckerish when he gets in the chair to suit me, and
besides he will have to be talking too much in this meeting to occupy
the chair with any grace."
"I withdraw my name as candidate," said the first nominee graciously.
"Any other nominations? The chair hears none,--then it is in order to
make the election of Dr. Allison unanimous." It was done so with three
rousing cheers.
Father always enjoyed the Tuckers' foolishness and he was now in a
state of relaxation and contentment, after a strenuous day spent in
doing his duty, that fitted in well with our cheerful guests.
"Well, I'm glad to have the chair if I can sit in it," he said.
"Friends, since there are no minutes, we can dispense with the reading
of them. What is the business of the day?"
"Mr. President, what are we going to do with our daughters this coming
winter?" said Zebedee, rising to his feet and speaking after due
acknowledgment from the chair. "'The time has come' the walrus said, 'to
talk of many things,' but this business of occupying these girls, whom a
Merciful Providence has confided to our care, is a serious matter. They
are too young to stop school altogether, especially since they don't
want to make debuts----"
"Who said we didn't? We'd do anything rather than go back to school,"
interrupted Dum.
"Mr. Tucker has the floor," said Father with mock severity.
"I rise to a question of privilege," announced Dee solemnly. "We are
'most as old as Zebedee was when he got married and quite as old as our
mother was." At this Zebedee laughed a little and wiped his eyes once.
He always had a tear ready for his young wife who was spared to him such
a little while.
"Well, honey, even if you are, times have changed. Young folks don't
stop school as soon as they used to."
"Didn't I tell you he would get Mr. Tuckerish? Just listen to him!
Talking about young folks as though he were a million."
"Address the chair!" and Father rapped for order.
"May I ask your indulgence for a moment, Mr. President?" asked Zebedee
meekly. "As I was saying, when the gentleman from nowhere interrupted
me: our daughters are too young to stop studying altogether. Don't you
think so?"
"If you will allow the chair to express an opinion, I am afraid they
are."
"Of course Gresham's burning down was most inopportune, as they would
have been safely placed for another year there, but now that it is
burned and not rebuilt yet----"
"We wouldn't go back there, anyhow, with that old Miss Plympton bossing
things," asserted Dum.
"Now what I want to find is some way to have them go on studying and
learning and still not be bored to death," and Zebedee sat down.
"A Daniel come to judgment!" I whispered.
"Are you addressing the chair?" asked Father.
"No, I was just talking to myself."
"Of course, I want to study art more than anything in the world!"
exclaimed Dum, bouncing on her feet and forcing an acknowledgment from
the chair before Dee had time to get it. "I can't see the use in
burdening myself with Latin and math when I am nearly dead to model
things."
"Well, you haven't overburdened yourself with knowledge yet, I am glad
to say," teased her father.
"Are you addressing the chair?" asked our president sternly. "If not,
pray do so."
"Well, Mr. President, I want to study physiology and anatomy," said Dee.
"And for the life of me I can't see what good ancient history and French
would do me."
"And I want to be a writer, and it seems to me the best way to be one
is--just to be one," I remarked.
"Exactly!" smiled Father.
"And now we want to talk over what is the best way for these girls to
get what they want and still not be idle," said Mr. Tucker. "I should
like to hear what our honored president has to say."
"Well, friends, this has kind of been sprung on me. I have been living
in a kind of fool's paradise, thinking that maybe our girls knew enough
to stop; but I see that I was wrong. Girls never know enough to stop.
I'll let my third do whatever you let your two-thirds do, if it isn't
too wild."
"But, Father, I am going to stay right here at Bracken with you! You
know you need me."
"Of course I need you, but you don't think I need you any more than
Tucker needs his daughters. You will settle down soon enough and now is
the time to gather material for writing. Things make an impression on
you now that wouldn't when you are older. One can put off writing longer
than getting experience," and Father drew me down on the arm of his
chair.
"Where do you think these monkeys should go to get these varied
industries they are longing for, Tucker?"
"New York, I should say."