GETTING ACQUAINTED.
In came Mrs. Mayfield and her nephew, with Jim, the preacher, following
them. Margaret began industriously to dust a rocking chair. She bade
them come in, if it were not too warm, "Mammy has been ironing but the
fire's dyin' down. And I do hope she irons yo' clothes to suit you, Miz
Mayfield," she added.
"Oh, yes," replied Mrs. Mayfield, glancing round at the preacher who
with hat in hand sat on the melodeon stool, gazing at her. "I am not
hard to please," she continued, speaking to Margaret. "I have passed
that stage."
Margaret bowed to her. "Well, I'm mighty glad to hear it. So many folks
are hard to please. There come a woman from away off yander sometime ago
and took up over at Fetterson's and they couldn't do a thing to please
her--grumbled all the time; the water wasn't even good, when heaven
knows we've got the best water on the yeth. So I am glad you ain't hard
to please."
"Oh, I should indeed be finical to find fault with anything in this
delicious air," said Mrs. Mayfield, smiling at Lou, "this new life,
among these God-worshipping hills, these--"
"Oh, auntie brought her romance with her," Tom broke in, and Lou gave
him a look of tender reproof.
"Oh, let her talk, please. I like to hear her." And standing beside Mrs.
Mayfield's chair she said: "You told me you were something. What was
it?"
"An echo from the world," the city woman answered.
Lou looked at her mother who in turn gave her a look in which the girl
read an ignorance as profound as her own. "Well, is sounds mighty
putty," she said, "but what do you mean by it. I don't understand."
"Why Lou!" exclaimed her mother. "You musn't talk that way."
"Oh, let her go ahead," Tom spoke up. "The fact is auntie says a good
many things I'd like to have explained to me."
"Tom," she said, "please don't be any more wayward than you can help."
At this moment old Jasper's voice was heard without. "Git down from
here. Got less sense than any dog I ever seed, come a jumpin' on me with
yo' muddy feet. Howdy everybody, howdy," he greeted them as he entered,
with a set of harness on his arm. Every one spoke to him and after
surveying the party he drew a chair out from the table, sat down and
began to tug at the harness, pulling hard against the resistance of a
rusty buckle. "Whar's that luther string?" he inquired of his wife.
"What luther string?"
"The one I told you to put away for me some time last fall--mebby fall a
year ago. Whar is it?"
"Gracious alive Jasper, I don't know. What did you bring that gear in
here for? Can't you fix it at the stable?"
"Yes, could. Could also sleep and eat out thar, but I don't want to."
"Now what on the yeth do you want to talk that way fur?"
Jasper chuckled. "Wall, a man ain't hardly responsible for what he says
when he's talkin' to a woman."
"Then you don't believe, Mr. Starbuck, that woman inspires truth," said
Mrs. Mayfield, and Jim leaned forward, still gazing at her.
"Oh, yes, all the putty truths," Jasper replied, and Tom who, with Lou,
was standing over near the fire-place, sang out: "There, auntie, he is
meeting you on your own ground."
Jim's countenance flared and he struck in: "Yes, in the shade where the
soft air is stirring."
Mrs. Mayfield turned to him. "Oh, thank you Mr.--I shall have to call
you Mr. Reverend."
He gave her a smile and then as if afraid of too much light shut it off;
but he had the courage to reply: "Anything you call me, ma'm, will be
music."
"Oh, I tell you," said Jasper, tugging at the buckle, "Jim ain't been
preachin' ten years fur nothin'. Wall, mighty fur nothin', too; for I
ricolleck that one winter all he got was a pa'r of blue jeens britches
an' fo' pa'r of wool socks. And if I don't cuss this thing in a minit
more I'll be about fitten to preach."
"Mr. Starbuck," Mrs. Mayfield inquired, "was that you shooting so early
this morning?"
"Yes'm, killin' them squirrels we had fur breakfus'."
"And you saw the sun rise?"
He left off working with his gear and looked at her. "Ah, hah. Ever see
the sun rise?"
"I have seen the moon set," she said, half musing.
"And so have I," said Jasper. "I have seen the moon set and hatch out
the stars."
And still musing, Mrs. Mayfield replied: "Yes, and they peeped at one
another in their heavenly nest until the sun, man-like, came and spoiled
it all."
[Illustration: "THEM WHAT HAIN'T HAD TROUBLE 'AIN'T HAD NO CAUSE TO LOOK
FUR THE LORD."]
Jasper and his wife looked at each other, knowingly in the eye; and then
the old man said: "I beg yo' pardon, ma'm, but you must have had
trouble. But don't let it bother you any mo' than you kin help, fur my
experience teaches me that them what hain't had trouble ain't had no
cause to look fur the Lord."
"Why, Jasper Starbuck," Margaret spoke up, "ain't you ashamed of yo'se'f
to talk about the Lord thatter way?"
"I ain't said a word ag'in Him. Leave it to the preacher thar. Have I,
Jim?"
"No, Uncle Jasper."
"Much obleeged to you, Jim; and instead of stayin' five weeks with us as
you said you 'lowed to, I wush you'd stay longer. I need you to prove
things by. Couldn't make it five months, could you, Jim?"
"No, Uncle Jasper, I must get back to my mountain-side flock. There's
many a poor old man tottering along that needs me to help him walk."
"That's a fact," said Starbuck, and turning to Mrs. Mayfield he
continued: "He settles nearly all their troubles, ma'm; he's not only
their church but their cou't house. I've seed him preach the gospel with
one hand and with the other one tear up a lawsuit."
Lou, standing on a chair, had taken down an old gun which rested upon
deer horns above the fire place, and was exhibiting it to Tom. "My
great grandfather carried it at the battle of New Orleans," she said;
and reverently the young man took the gun and pressed the butt to his
shoulder, taking aim. "No wonder our country has a spirit that can't be
crushed," he remarked, lowering the ancient war hound and looking into
its black mouth.
"When we've got such guns?" she said, smiling down upon him, still
standing on the chair.
"No, not such guns but men who do such deeds and women who are proud of
them."
Jasper looked round and saw that the young man in his carelessness had
the gun pointed at him. "Here," he called, "turn that thing tuther way."
"Why it isn't loaded, is it?" Tom asked, returning the gun to Lou.
"No, but them's the sort that usually goes off and kills folks. Thar's
an old sayin', ma'm," he said to Mrs. Mayfield, "that thar's danger in a
gun without lock, stock, or barrel--you kin w'ar a feller out with the
ram-rod."
Lou replaced the gun and sat down. Tom stood over her, slily showing her
some verses. Mrs. Mayfield, glancing round, understood that it was a
"poetic situation," and remarked to Jasper. "Just now we were speaking
of trouble. Heart-hunger is the real poetry of life--heart-hunger and
heart-ache; our pleasures are but jingling rhymes."
Jasper and his wife exchanged glances, and the old man said: "Husband
dead, ma'm?"
"Worse than that, Mr. Starbuck."
"Why, ain't that awful," Margaret declared.
Jasper studied for a few moments and then inquired: "Wan't hung, was
he?"
She shook her head, sighed and made answer: "We were divorced."
Then the old man thought to be consoling. "Well, let us hope that you
won't marry him over ag'in."
"No, his heart is black."
"There is a fountain where it may be made white," said the preacher.
Sadly she smiled at him and replied: "To that fountain he would never
go."
Old Jasper jingled and clanked the iron of his harness. "I don't know
much about fountains," said he, "but I know a good deal about men, and
I never seed one with a black heart that ever had it washed out clean.
I never knowd a scoundrel that wan't allus a scoundrel, and the Book
don't say that the Savior died for scoundrels--died for sinners. A
sinner kin be a fust-rate feller, full o' that weakness that helps a
wretch outen trouble. The Savior knowed that and died for him."
Margaret slammed her pan of turnips down upon the table. "Oh, sometimes
I'm so put out with you."
"Yes," drawled the old man, "and old Miz Eve was put out with Adam, too,
but atter all the best thing she could do, was to stick to him and go
whar he went."
"Oh, of course," said Margaret. "The only use a man ever has for the
Bible is to hit a woman with it." She went over to a safe, looking back
at her husband who stood watching her, his droll countenance lighted
with a humorous grin; she began to mix meal in a pan, stirring
vigorously to make up corn pone, throwing in water with a dash. Tom and
Lou were still engaged with the verses.
"What is this line?" she asked.
"'Her eye a star of heart's most gleaming hope,'" he read, and she
purred like a kitten.
"What does it mean?" she asked.
"Why, er--it means all sorts of things."
"It sounds like things you find in a book, but this is in writin', isn't
it? And--and it smells like a violet in the woods."
"What have they got thar, a mortgage?" Jasper inquired of Mrs. Mayfield.
"The beginning of many a mortgage, Mr. Starbuck; some verses."
"Huh," grunted the old man, "I don't reckon they are like some verses I
had not long ago. Had a lawsuit befo' a jestice of the peace and they
called it Starbuck verses Brown."
Margaret ceased her work of mixing corn pone and looked round at him.
"Jasper, anybody to hear you talk would think you don't know nuthin'."
"Well," Starbuck replied, "that's the way to find out that a man don't
know nuthin'--by hearin' him talk. Feller over the mountains had a son
that was deef and dumb for twenty-odd year. Everybody lowed he was the
smartest one of the fam'ly. But finally a doctor teached him how to talk
and then they found out that he wan't nuthin' but a damned fool."
The profane twist of the old man's defense amused Mrs. Mayfield. And Jim
smiled. It was not only in keeping with the old man's half innocent
character--it was the honest spurt of sinful Adam, remaining with the
most of us--which the devout preacher may deplore for the sake of
example and yet inwardly accept because he is human. I am told that
there are languages that hold no profanity and we know that there are
tongues too delicate for philosophy and too gentle for blank verse.
"Now what do you want to pester a body thatter way for?" Margaret
rejoined, thankful that Mrs. Mayfield had not been shocked. "I never
seed a body that could be so aggrivatin'. Miz Mayfield, don't pay no
'tention to him when he talks thatter way, fur when he wants to he kin
be right bright.
"Oh, I understand him, Mrs. Starbuck," and then of Jasper she inquired:
"How far is it to the post office?"
"A little the rise of three mile. As soon as I git this gear in shape
I'll have Kintchin hitch up and drive a passel of you over thar. I
reckon we've got one of the smartest post-masters in the country. I've
seed him rip open many a man's letter an' read it off just like print.
Here, Kintchin! Kintchin! That nigger's asleep somewhar. One of these
days somebody will fill him so full of lead you couldn't turn him over
with a hand spike." Kintchin appeared at the door, stretching himself
and rubbing his eyes. "What have you been doin'?"
"Who, me?"
"Yes, you."
"Wall, suh, I ain't been ersleep ef dat whut you means."
"Then why didn't you answer me?"
"W'y, suh, I had my min' flung down on er 'ligious subjeck an' it wuz
all I coul' do ter t'ar it off."
"Ah, thought I hearn suthin' rip like a piece of tent cloth," and giving
Kintchin the harness he continued: "Here, hitch up old Dick and drive
these folks over to the post office."
"Yas, suh."
"And when you come back you can break that young steer."
"Yas, suh, break de steer."
"And when you get the steer broke," said Margaret, "I want you to make
me an ash hopper."
"Yas'm," replied the old negro, looking at her and then at Starbuck.
"And then," said Jasper, "I want you to hive the bees."
"And then," Margaret spoke up, "you may fix the loom."
"Yas'm, fix de loom."
"When that is done," said Starbuck, "you may rive some clap-boards to
cover the spring house."
"Yas, suh, ter kiver de spring house;" and scratching his head he stood
for a moment as if in deep thought. "An' look yere, Mr. Starbuck, while
I'se gone to the pos' office don't you reckon you kin think up suthin'
fur me ter do?"
"How willing he is to work," Mrs. Mayfield sympathetically remarked.
Kintchin ducked his head at her. "W'y, Lawd bless yo' life, honey, I
doan know nuthin' else. One time not long ergo I foun' o' er mawnin' dat
I wuz monst'us tired, an' den I come ter fin' out dat I been er gittin'
up an' er workin' in my sleep. Yas'm."
He looked at Jasper, expecting something, and it came: "Was that the
time they found the ham under yo' bed?"
"Mr. Starbuck, whut you all de time come er talkin' datter way fur?
Ain't dar nuthin' in dis life ter talk erbout 'cept politics? Doan you
know you got er soul ter save? Doan you know dat de Lawd frown on
slander? I doan care fur myse'f but I hate ter see er good man fling
erway his chances o' de salvation. An' suthin' gwine happen ter you ef
you keeps on 'sposin' yo'se'f."
Starbuck good naturedly drove him out, clucking at him as if he were a
horse. Lou slowly folded the paper which she had been gazing at during
all this time and said: "Oh, you must let me keep this."
"It amounts to nothing," replied Tom, making a pretense of taking the
paper but permitting her to retain it. "I will write you something
prettier."
"No, I want this."
"She is beginning early to mistrust promises," remarked Mrs. Mayfield.
"Oh, she knows the world," said Mrs. Starbuck. "She went to school for
two years over at Dry Fork. That's where she l'arned to play that
melogian."
"Yes," Jasper spoke up, "and the fust time I hearn it I thought a tree
had fell on one of the calves. Why, helloa, mammy, come in. Lookin' fur
suthin'?"
"I must er lef' my old pipe yere summers," said the old negro woman,
coming into the room.
"Here it is," said Jasper taking a cob pipe from the mantle-piece and
giving it to her. "Won't you sit down, mammy? You look so tired."
"No, Mars Jasper, I hain't hardly got time." She looked at the company,
bade every one good morning, with a heart-felt "God bless you;" and
looking at Mrs. Mayfield, slowly advanced toward her, gazing at her
hand. "W'y, honey, I neber seed de like o' putty rings you's got on.
Da's like de speret o' light er wrappin' round yo' fingers."
"Mammy, they are but glittering memories."
"Yas'm, da do shine might'ly ef dat whut you means."
Tom and Lou were going out. "Don't stray off," said Mrs. Mayfield. "We
are going to the post office, you know."
"Yes, if that fetch-taked nigger ever gits the hoss hitched up,"
Margaret spoke up.
Jasper snatched up his hat. "Oh, he'd hitch up a hoss to the fou'th of
July jest about in time to drive up to the front door of Christmas. I'll
go and see about it myse'f. Slowest nigger I ever seed," and muttering
he went out. Old mammy, still looking at the city woman's rings, began
softly to croon: "I neber seed er po' ole nigger dat didn't like rings.
I had er whole lot o' 'em once, but da turned green, an' da'd pizen me
ef I teched 'em wid my mouf. But one time Mars Jasper gib me one dat
didn't turn green, an' I lost it. You allus loses de best, you know.
Honey, Mars Jasper is allus doin' suthin' fur me. I nussed him w'en he
wuz er chile an' he dun paid me back mo' den er hunnud times; an' w'en I
got ole an' wuz down wid de rheumatiz, an' couldn't sleep in de night
w'en de lonesome cow er lowin' on de hill-side, he sot up wid me an'
spell out de words o' de Lawd, fur he kain't read right quick. He
couldn't been mo' tender wid his mudder, an' I gwine ter tell de Lawd
w'en I goes home, an' it won't be long--no'm it won't. An' on de wall by
my bed I dun made chalk marks o' de things I gwine tell de Lawd, an' dar
ain't hardly no mo' room fur new marks, da all been so good ter me; but
I gwine make one fur you, honey, caze you looked kind at me. Yas'm, I
is. But I must be gwine. Lawd bless you all; an' you too, strange lady."
And as this old creature walked out she still muttered blessings upon
them; this endeared old link, tenderly binding some of us to one of the
sweetest memories of the past. She is passing over the threshold into
the "big house" of eternity, this mother of love and charity, who sang
the little children to sleep, whose ebon fingers bound the wounds of
youth. She knew enough of God to be all love--of Christ to forgive all
wrongs.
"The wagon's ready," Jasper called, and Mrs. Mayfield turned to Jim.
"Won't you come too?"
He scrambled up, as if stung into action, grabbed his hat, went
boldly close to her and said: "If I thought yo' wish was in yo'
invitation, Satan couldn't hold me back, and the Lord wouldn't."
"What a strange compliment."
"Ma'm, I don't know how to speak compliments."
"Come on, please."