COMMENT AND CRITICISM
On Friday the campers returned to their homes, and Cane Ridge
neighborhood settled down to its usual routine.
"It's high time thet fo'ks should come to ther senses," said Mrs.
Rogers, as she and her husband and young Dudley sat in the yard after
supper that evening. "I don't see how you all stood it stiddy fur two
weeks et a stretch up et the 'campment. Ev'ry time I sent the niggahs
up thah with the fresh vittuls, they'd come back with ther eyes fa'rly
bulgin' out o' ther haids, an' whut little wits they hed knocked sky
west an' crooked. They brung me sich 'counts uv the goin's-on thet at
last, thinks I, I'll go an' see fur myse'f. I knowed you an' Henry
could tek keer uv yo'se'ves; but I wuz consarned 'bout Cissy, an' felt
it high time to be lookin' artah her. I soon found her, an' when I seed
she still hed her haid on her shouldahs, I wuz easier in my mind; but
I'll nevah fergit thet fust visit. The meetin' hed been goin' on six
days, an' things hed got in a good weavin' way. Thah wuz no less than
five preachahs holdin' forth to oncet in diffrunt parts uv the grounds;
so I tells Cissy thet ez thah wuz no tellin' when I'd git thah ag'in
we'd meandeh 'roun' permiscous lak an' tek in all we could. Fust, we
went to the arboh whah thah wuz a big geth'rin'--hardly even
standin'-room in the aisles--but we manidged to squedge in on a seat
close up in front. The platform wuz crammed with preachahs, an' ole
Brothah Ranson wuz holdin' fo'th et a gran' rate. His subjec' wuz
'Fleein' frum the wrath to come,' an' he wuz pow'rful. The pictures he
drawed uv the tormints uv the lost, writhin' in the midst uv the fire
an' brimstone in the bottomless pit, wuz 'nough to set a snowbank
afire. I felt ez hot ez ef I wuz danglin' ovah thet pit myse'f; an' ef
one o' the angels hed happened to peep ovah the battermints o' heaven
et thet minit, he'd been scorched hisse'f by the billers o' flame whut
riz mountain high frum thet sea o' tormint. But somehow, the fo'ks
didn't git ez much rousement on 'em ez I'd looked fur--reckon they'd
done hed so much preachment thet they wuz kindah tuckahed out. Oh, yes,
thah wuz considahble groanin' an' wailin' an' sich like, an' a whole
passel o' sinnahs come furwa'd to be prayed fur; but I could see thet
Brothah Ranson wuz disapp'inted et the lack o' 'citement, an' thet he
wuz fixin' to mek a big jump uv some sort. Fust, he prayed a
ha'r-liftin' pertition; then, soon's thet wuz ovah, he swung hisse'f
out to the aidge o' the platfo'm, stomped his foot, waved his arms, an'
hollahed out, 'Ev'rybody whut wants to 'scape the wrath to come, an' to
meet me in heaven, clap yer hands an' shout "Glory!" altogethah.' Thet
fotched us shore 'nough."
"Yes," said Mr. Rogers, "I hearn o' thet meetin', but I wuzn't thah. I
wuz list'nin' to Brothah Rice et t'othah eend o' the camp."
"Did you shout with the rest, Mrs. Rogers?" Dudley asked.
"I should say so!" she answered. "Ev'rybody did, an' sich a hullabaloo
ez it wuz--'nough to raise the dead. I thought fur a minit thet
judgment-day hed come, an' wouldn't been s'prised to heah the toot o'
Gabr'el's horn then an' thah. No wondeh fo'ks hed jerks an' fits an'
swoondin' spaills et the camp! My ha'r wuz all creepy, thah wuz goose
flesh all ovah my arms, an' hot an' cold chills a-chasin' one 'nothah
up an' down the spines o' my back."
"How'd Cissy behave in all thet rumpus?" asked Rogers.
"I got Cissy outen thah none too soon," Mrs. Rogers acknowledged with a
wise shake of her head. "Her face wuz ashy, an' she wuz all o' a shake
an' a quake. I took her ovah to some trees whah a watah barr'l stood,
an' made her tek a good swill, an' wet her hankchief an' mop her face.
Then I walked her off to a quiet place an' says to her, 'Cissy, the
Lawd knows I want to see you become a child o' grace, but I don't
intend to hev religion jerked an' shouted an' skeered intah you.
'Tain't fittin', to my notion, to see a modest young gal a-mekin' a
show uv herse'f, an' the Lawd nevah intended it, nuthah. Ef you're
'lected to salvation--an' I believe you air, fur he's a marciful an'
gracious God, an' you're a nice, innercent, well-behaved gal--you kin
be called in a quiet way; an' when he does call, whut you got to do is
to heah an' obey. Thet's all thah is to convarsion, anyway. So I reckon
you'd bettah come 'long home with me this evenin', outen all this
fuss.' But she begged so hard to stay, an' promised so faithful not to
git wrought up ag'in, thet I let her stay."
After a short pause, Mrs. Rogers continued: "But I stick to it thet the
Lawd nevah intended his people to go stark, starin' crazy ovah
religion, no more'n ovah anything else. All them ravin's an' jerkin's
an' holy-laughin's an' holy-dancin's air onseemly in any fo'ks, sinnah
or saint. The Almighty don't want to be pestered with no sich
tekin'-on. When he calls, listen; whut he says do, you jes' git up an'
do. Thet's religion, an' nuthin' else."
"You're 'bout right, Cynthy Ann," Rogers assented, as he lay at full
length on the grass. "To my mind, the main p'int is to love God, an' do
yer duty by yer neighbor an' fambly."
"An' do it quiet, too," added his wife. "You nevah heah uv a woman
tekin' spasms an' jerks ovah lovin' her husban' or childurn, or a gal
ovah lovin' her sweetheart. Then, why must fo'ks raise sich a
cavortment 'bout lovin' God--hollahin' an' whoopin' an' sprawlin'
'roun' on the ground lak Sal Fox did thet las' time I wuz et the camp?
She'd been a-jerkin' an' a-rollin' an' a-foamin' et the mouth wussen a
mad dog, tell she wuz clean tuckahed out, an' thah she lay in the straw
'roun' the altah, her pink caliker dusty an' tore lak she'd been
a-chasin' through a briah patch, straws stickin' out all ovah her haid.
Thah stood ole Brothah Stratton prayin' ovah her, her sister Jane an'
Poll Tribble snifflin' an' snufflin' an' fannin' her, an' sayin' they
feared she'd nevah come outen her trance. Thinks I, 'I'll fotch her
out.' I walks up, an', pokin' her with my foot, I says, 'Git up, Sal!
Hain't you 'shamed yo'se'f, layin' heah with yer haid lookin' lak a
rat's nest, an' yer laigs a-showin'?' Daddy Stratton he prayed loudah,
Poll she fanned fastah, an' Jane she sniffled an' snuffled harder'n
evah, while Sal she jes' lay thah lak a dead corp. I knowed she heard
me, though, fur she kindah flickahed her eyeleds, an' then lay
stiffer'n evah. So I says, pokin' her ag'in, 'Ef I hed sich pipestems
ez them laigs o' yourn, I'd keep 'em hid--an' heah comes Jed White,
too!' With thet she sets up, smoothes down her dress, an' winds up her
ha'r, spry ez a ant; fur Jed's her beau."
"Oh, well, Sal nevah 'sperienced religion befoh," said Rogers, "so it
went hard with her, 'cause, befoh this, she's allus resisted the
Speret. But whut I can't stand is them Methodis' folks whut fall in an'
out uv religion so of'en--'speri'ncin' a change o' heart ev'ry day in
the week, an' mekin' the Lawd out a reg'lar Injin givah, bestowin'
grace at ev'ry revival, an' tekin' it away soon's meetin's ovah. While
the rousement lasts, the road to glory stretches out befoh 'em, an'
they're ready, ez the hymn says, 'to bid far'well to ev'ry fear an'
face a frownin' world.' Then by the nex' week they can't mustah up
'nough strength to hoe a row o' cawn. Oh, yes, they're mighty happy
while the meetin' lasts. They're on the way to the land o' promise,
singin' ez they journey on, ez how they'll 'b'ar the toil, endure the
pain, supported by His grace.' Soon's the revival's ovah, they're ready
fur anothah kind o' journey, an' lak ez not, they will jine in a
drinkin' spree, an' end up in a free fight an' a gen'ral fisticuff.
Now, thahs Jake Simmons, a lazy, no-'count skunk whut won't even tote
in a back log to keep his fambly frum freezin'. He's got religion ha'f
a dozen times, an' teks on a leetle crazier ev'ry time. When I seed him
a-rollin' an' stompin' an' cavortin' an' axin' the brethren to pray fer
him, thinks I, 'Whut you need, Jake, wossen the prayers uv the saints,
is a big blacksnake whip larruped ovah yer back.' The Lawd does the job
up right when he really convarts a man. It's 'onc't in grace, allus in
grace,' ez the catechism teaches."
"But," said Dudley, who until now had listened silently to this
discussion, "the Bible speaks of wanderers from the fold. No doubt Jake
is a wandering sheep."
"Maybe he is," Mrs. Rogers agreed; "but, ef so, he looks an' acts so
lak a goat thet the angel Gabr'el hisse'f don't know the diffruns."
"An' ef he is a sheep," added Mason, "he's so hidebound an' so
fleece-growed, an' hez been herdin' with the goats in the devil's
pastur' so long, thet he hain't wuth fotchin' home to the fold."
As soon as the fall wheat-sowing was finished, Abner Dudley resumed his
school, but under such changed conditions that he could not feel the
same enthusiastic interest as during the previous term. John Calvin was
now the only advanced pupil; Henry had entered Transylvania University,
and neither Betsy nor Susan were in school.
"Cissy's goin' on sixteen, an' hez eddication 'nough," said her mother.
"It don't do gals no good to be too book-l'arned--jes' meks 'em uppish
an' no-'count."
Mr. Rogers submitted to his wife's decree. "I boss the boys," he said,
"but I reckon Cynthy Ann knows whut's best fur the gals; though, ez fur
ez I'm consarned, I'd like Cissy to be ez eddicated ez any uv them
high-flyers 'roun' Lexin'ton."
Susan was ambitious and loved study, and, although she did not openly
rebel against her mother's ruling, went about her household tasks in a
dejected way which greatly tried bustling Mrs. Rogers.
"Now, Cissy," she said, coming to the girl's room one night and finding
her sobbing over disappointed hopes, "don't you s'pose yer own mammy'll
do whut's best fur her dautah? You mustn't think 'cause I'm sharp an'
stirrin' with you thet I don't love you." She seated herself on the
side of the bed and began to stroke Susan's hair. "'Tain't no use fur
you to tek on so. You must jes' trust yer mammy, an' by an' by you'll
see I'm right. I can't spar' you frum home this wintah, but you kin
study o' nights, an' Abner'll holp you with yer books. So cheer up, lak
a good gal; an' nex' time the packman comes 'long--an' I'm lookin' fer
him 'most any day--I'll buy you some ribbon fur yer hair an' a string
uv beads. Soon's we git the heft o' the fall wuck did up, you'n' me
will mek you one o' them fine quilted silk petticoats, lak Betsy's, to
w'ar under yer red calaminco dress. Thah now!"--and she kissed the
girl--"say yer prayers, an' go to sleep." Then she murmured as she left
the room, "Pore gal! 'Tis hard on her; but I jes' can't spar' her this
wintah. I know she's ez purty an' ez good a gal ez kin be found
anywhahs!"
As the weeks went by, Betsy Gilcrest did not sing over her work in her
old light-hearted way. Mrs. Gilcrest was not an observant woman; but
Aunt Dilsey, the old "black mammy," noticed the change in her idolized
young mistress. "The keer ob dis place an' all de man'gin' o' dem noisy
boys an' lazy niggahs am too much 'sponsibility fur sich young
shouldahs ez hern. Ole Dilsey does whut she kin to spar' de precious
chile frum worry an' care; but one ole niggah lak me carn't do
ebbrythin'; an' 'tain't no wondah Miss Betsy's gittin' pale an' peeky
an' low-spereted."