"Looky here, Pearline, I ain't used to totin' dis ole steel band on my
wrist an' it hurts my feelin's," Plaster complained as he sat at the
breakfast-table before a meal which had been left on the door-step a few
minutes before by Hitch Diamond.
"Don't begin to howl an' pull back like a dawg tied under a wagin,
Plaster," Pearline urged prettily, as she helped herself to liberal
portions of the breakfast prepared in Sheriff Flournoy's kitchen. "You
won't kick about wearin' it as long as you loves me, will you?"
"No'm," Plaster said, as he lifted the chain to a more comfortable place
upon the dining-table. "But I shore wish dat white man hadn't choosed
such a heavy chain."
"Dis chain ain't heavy, Plaster," Pearline protested. "You hadn't
oughter talk dat way. Excusin' dat, I likes dis chain--it ties us to
each yuther. Don't you like it?"
"Yes'm, I shore does."
"How come you complains about it fer?"
"I ain't got no lament, Pearline--dat is, I ain't mean it dat way."
The bridegroom filled his mouth with food and for the next ten minutes
ate voraciously. One watching him would draw the inference that he was
not eating to enjoy the food so much as to find some occupation for his
mouth beside speech.
Pearline reached out with her free hand and toyed with the chain,
twisting it about her fingers lovingly, a dreamy light in her coal-black
eyes.
"Us had de biggest weddin' in cullud circles, Plaster," she murmured.
"I ain't no cullud circle," Plaster mumbled, his mouth full of food.
"But I reckin I got to run circles aroun' you 'slong as dis ole chain
stays on. Don't rattle dat chain so loud, Pearly! Gosh! It makes a heap
of racket fer its little size."
"You jes' now said it wus a big, heavy chain fer its size," his wife
reminded him in a sweetly argumentative tone.
"Yes'm, it am--dis chain is bofe little an' big--fer its size," the
groom amended hastily. "Stop talkin' about dis chain!"
"You started dis talk," she reminded him reproachfully. "You said it
hurted yo' wrist."
There was a loud knock upon the door. Plaster sprang up to answer. The
chain jerked at his wrist.
"Good gawsh!" he snorted. "Come to de door wid me, honey, so I kin open
up."
"I cain't, Plaster," the bride exclaimed in a panic. "I ain't dressed
fer comp'ny dis soon in de mawnin."
"You's got on all de clothes you owns," the groom reminded her.
"Suttinly, but I ain't got no white powder on my black nose," she
giggled. "Come back in de nex' room an' let me fresh up befo' we opens
de door."
"I stayed in dar a plum' hour while you wus freshin' up fer yo'
viteles," Plaster grumbled.
"Don't git grumped up, Plaster," Pearline urged. "You ack like yo' love
is commenced to wilt aroun' de edges."
Meekly the man followed her to the bedroom and stood for fifteen minutes
while the bride primped her hair, powdered her nose, adjusted her
collar, fiddled with her belt, put pins in her shirt-waist, took them
out and deposited them in her mouth, put them back into her waist,
turned around and looked at herself in the mirror, hunted for a fresh
handkerchief and could not find it, located it at last in the bosom of
her waist, wondered where she had left her chewing-gum, found it on top
of the box of face-powder, and finally said:
"Come on--less hurry up. Dat comp'ny will git tired waitin' fer us!"
"Dat comp'ny is gone done it," Plaster sighed. "I peeped through de
crack in de door an' seed 'em. Hitch Diamond knocked fo' times, den
opened de door an' picked up dem breakfast-dishes an' trod out."
"Dat's too bad," Pearline remarked with no interest whatever. She was
looking at herself in the mirror. "I'd like to seen Hitchie. He use to
be one of my ole sweethearts."
"Come out an' set under de tree wid me an' mebbe dat ole sweetheart of
yourn will come back," Plaster suggested.
"I don't like to git out in de sunshine," the girl replied. "Dar's too
much glare."
"Too much--which?" Plaster asked.
"Glare."
"Yes'm."
Plaster stood looking at her helplessly, wondering where they were going
from there.
"Does you love me, Plaster?" the girl asked, siding up to him and
stepping on the chain.
"Yes'm," Plaster answered as he pulled the chain from under her feet and
rubbed his wrist. "Don't step on dat chain no mo'. You might break it."
"How come you don't tell me you loves me?"
"I done tole you 'bout fawty times dis mawnin'," Plaster reminded her.
"But you ain't never tole me onless I axed you."
"Less go somewhar an' set down an' I'll tell you a millyum times,"
Plaster said eagerly.
"Bless Gawd, I knows you loves me a plum' plenty, but I likes to hear
you tell dem words. Wait a minute till I puts--er--I b'lieve I oughter
change de collar on dis dress. A clean one would make me look mo'
fresher."
Plaster lingered until the woman was dressed to her fancy, resting his
weight first on one impatient leg, then upon the other.
"You wastes a heap of time fixin' yo'se'f, Pearly," he sighed at last.
"I hopes you'll soon git dressed up fer de day."
"You wants yo' wife to look nice, don't you?" she asked reproachfully.
"Yes'm."
"How kin I look nice 'thout takin' de time to dress?"
They went out and sat down under the pecan-tree in the "glare." Pearline
seemed to have forgotten the glare. Plaster lighted a cigarette, smoked
it to the end, lighted another, smoked it to the end, and lighted
another. Then Pearline remarked:
"Honey, does you love me more dan you loves dem cigareets?"
"I shore does"--with moderate fervor.
"Does you love me a millyum times mo' dan you loves cigareets?"
"Suttinly."
"Den, fer gossake, throw dem cigareets away! Dey smells like some kind
o' fumigate."
"I cain't do that, Pearly. Dese here smokes costes money. An' I couldn't
affode to buy 'em ef I had to wuck fer de money. Dey's a weddin'
present."
"Is you gwine smoke all yo' married life?"
"Yes'm."
"But you ain't gwine smoke no mo' fer de nex' three days, is you?"
"No'm."
Pearline thrust her hand into Plaster's pocket and brought forth his
precious smokes. She concealed them in the mysterious recesses of her
attire and Plaster sighed deeply.
Ten minutes later the girl straightened up with a fierceness that nearly
snapped her spinal column.
"Fer mussy sake, Plaster Sickety! Whut is you got in yo' mouf?"
"I's nibblin' a few crumbs of terbacker, honey," Plaster said
apologetically.
"My gawsh! You aim to tell me dat you _chaws_?"
"Yes'm. I chaws a little bit now an' den. It kinder helps my brains to
think an' sottles my stomick."
There was a long silence. Plaster stared straight ahead of him, his
jaws moving with the regularity of a ruminant cow, his eyes counting
the leaves on the trees, the pickets on the broken-down fence, and
estimating the number of ants crawling out of a hill. Then,
unconsciously, he reached into his pocket for another cigarette.
He did not find it.
He heard a suspicious sound beside him and looked at Pearline.
"Whut you cryin' about honey?"
"You tole me you loved me more dan cigareets, an' yit you cain't set by
me a minute 'thout chawin' terbacker," she wailed. "You is blood kin
brudder to a worm an' a goat--nothin' else chaws!"
"Lawd!" Plaster sighed in desperation. "I sees now dat I'm got to learn
how to suck eggs an' hide de shells."
Suddenly a loud whoop was heard near at hand and out of the swamp came
Vinegar Atts, Figger Bush, Mustard Prophet and Hitch Diamond.
"Hey, niggers!" Plaster bawled. "Come up an' set down. Lawd, I nefer wus
so glad to see nobody in my whole life."
"Good mawnin', Sister Pearline!" Vinegar chuckled. "How is yo'-alls
enjoyin' mattermony life by now?"
"Fine," the bride smiled, with a suspicion of tears still in her eyes.
"Praise de Lawd!" exclaimed Vinegar. "I wus skeart you niggers would be
fightin' by now, an' mebbe one of yous would be draggin' de yuther on de
end o' dat chain--dead!"
"Naw, suh!" Plaster howled, as he snatched a cigar out of Hitch
Diamond's pocket and stuck it in his mouth. "Us is gittin' along
puffeckly."
Plaster snatched his cigar from his lips with his manacled hand and
flourished it with a motion of broad contentment. Pearline gave the
chain a quick jerk and the smoke flew from Plaster's fingers and fell
over in the high grass.
"You two idjits look like a holy show to me," Figger Bush cackled. "How
come you don't charge admissions to de show an' git rich?"
"Us wouldn't git rich quick," Pearline giggled. Hitch Diamond had
retrieved the cigar, and Pearline had taken it from him and stuck it in
her hair. "You-all is de onlies' comp'ny we is had till yit."
"I hopes you niggers will stay wid us all day, brudders," Plaster
exclaimed earnestly. "We wus feelin' kinder--er--me an' Pearline wus
feelin' sorter--er--"
"Uh-huh," Hitch Diamond grunted knowingly. "Dat's a fack. We ole married
folks onderstan's dem feelin's. I'd feel dat way mese'f ef I wus in yo'
fix. I'd whet up my teeth on a brick-bat an' bite myse'f in my own
gizzard an' die."
"Not me!" Figger Bush howled. "Ef I wus chained to dat little gal, I'd
git me a plow-line an' wrop it aroun' our necks."
"I would, too," Vinegar bellowed. "But I'd tie de yuther eend of dat
plow-line to a tree an' jump off de worl'."
"I bet Pearline don't hanker to jump offen no worl'," Mustard Prophet
proclaimed. "Look at her--she's jes' as happy as ef she had sense."
The eyes of the four men turned upon the girl appraisingly. Then
Pearline remembered that a few moments before she had been sniffling and
shedding tears. She was sure her eyes were red, and she knew the tears
had washed all the white powder off her black nose. Quickly she rose to
her feet, giving the ten-foot chain a sharp jerk.
"I hates to take you from yo' frien's, Plaster," she exclaimed, "but I'm
got to go in. I cain't stand de glare."
Side by side they entered the cabin and the chain rattled as they shut
the door.
And the evening and the morning were the first day.