AUNT SALLY
"Aunt Sally! Aunt Sally, wait for me!"
At the shrill cry and the clatter of Buster's feet the crawling vehicle
came to a standstill, and from under its canvas cover peered the smiling
face of a hale, elderly woman, whose gray head was bare save for its
abundant crown of curling hair. A straw Shaker bonnet, with green
curtains, hung over her shoulders. Her print gown was of brilliant
pink and her capacious apron of blue gingham. She was collarless and
her sleeves were tucked above her round elbows, but she was clean,
as if just from a laundry. Indeed, at that moment, her conveyance
suggested such an institution on wheels, for well-strung clotheslines
were taut against its sides, and from these fluttered freshly washed
garments and scraps of cloth.
Aunt Sally saw Jessica's eyes, fasten upon these articles and explained:
"Met a little water comin' along and used it. Never know where you'll
be when you need water next--in Californy. How's all?"
"Well, thank you. I'm so glad you've come."
"That's a word to cure deafness. Here."
The woman pulled a gigantic cookie from her apron pocket and held it
toward the girl, who had now come alongside. The cake was in the shape
of a doll, with flaring skirt, and was promptly nibbled.
"Well, I declare! Eat your playmates, do you?"
"Yes, indeed, when you make them!"
"Who's that loping along behind?"
"Ephraim, of course. Oh! yes. A Mr. Hale, from New York."
"What's he at here?"
"Just staying. Lost his way and making a visit."
"H-m-m! Don't look wholesome. Needs picra."
"I doubt it. He has a great row of bottles in his room and takes
medicine every time he eats, or doesn't. That is, since he's been at
Sobrante, which isn't long."
When the wagon had halted on the road before them Ephraim had turned to
his companion, with a whimsical smile, suggested:
"Better ride along as if we was glad to see her. It's like a dose of
that bitter stuff she makes everybody take, whether or no--get it over
with. And she isn't so bad as--H-m-m."
Mr. Hale was not sorry to do this, for his curiosity was roused. The
wagon box was long and narrow, and contained as many articles as would
have sufficed a family "crossing the plains" in the olden times. A
kerosene cooking stove, a cat in a parrot cage, a hencoop, with mother
and brood inside it, a trunk, a blanket and pillow, a pail for watering
the animals, and a box of tin dishes. The cover, like a small "prairie
schooner," was patriotic in extreme, shining with the national colors,
newly applied by Aunt Sally herself, and with no stingy hand. The
arrangement was also her own, and as she considered, an improvement
upon the flag; for she made the whole top a field of stars, and the
sides of the stripes.
"Instead of a little weeny corner full of stars, that you can count on
your fingers, I've made a skyful right overhead. I always thought if
I'd had the designin' of Old Glory, I'd have made it regular, like
a patchwork quilt--and nobody ever pieces a 'block' that way. Things
must compare even, and so they would be if women had had a hand in the
business."
This decorative turnout was drawn by a tandem team, consisting of a milch
cow and a burro, with the cow in front. Which, after due introduction to
the stranger, she explained, regulated the behavior of both animals.
"With Balaam in the middle, and him inclinin' to balk, and Rosetty
in front, it works double-action. Them that use their wits is twice
served. If he stops, the wagon runs onto him, and if she's in a movin'
mood, that drags him. If she gets lazy, he butts her and thus, why--I've
tried it both ways, changing their places more'n once. This is the best.
How you like Californy?"
"Very much."
"Come for your health?"
"Partly, for that."
"H-m-m. Folks with you?"
"No. I'm alone."
"Maybe you've got no folks. Some hasn't. Ephraim, yonder, is one.
He'd be in a fix if 'twasn't for Jessie and me. I come about once
in so often and straighten out all the crooks. Took them pills, Ephy?"
Mr. Hale tried to repress a smile and failed, but "Forty-niner" burst
into a loud laugh, and replied:
"No, Aunt Sally, and what's more I'm not going to. Why should I? Who
never have an ache or pain--that medicine will cure," he added, looking
tenderly upon Lady Jess and remembering his grief of the past night.
"Well, you ought to have. 'Tisn't human nature to live to eighty and
not have. I'm twenty years younger'n you are and I ache from head to
foot, some days."
"Asking questions sort of wears you out, I reckon."
"Now, Ephy, don't get playful. Not at your age. It's not a good sign.
Besides, my hen chicken's been crowing more'n once this trip. That's
a sign of death--somewhere."
"Giddap, Stiffleg!"
Ephraim urged his horse forward, meaning to forewarn the "boys" of who
and what was coming. Jessica comprehended and quickly followed, but her
object was to bespeak a different kind of welcome from that he intended.
Neither knew, then, just how heartily glad they would be before many
hours were over of the helpful, yet disturbing, presence of this same
masterful woman.
The Easterner was left to jog alongside the curious team and its more
curious mistress, who, even, while she held the rope reins in one
hand, was threading her needle and sewing that patchwork which was as
characteristic of her as the ceaseless knitting was of Elsa.
In fact, when one came to look at her closely, there were seen assorted
bits of cloth, fragments of some "block," pinned here and there about
her person; and as he watched her nimble fingers fly from one seam to
another the gentleman's amazement found expression.
"How can you manage to drive and sew at the same time? And is it
necessary?"
"I guess you're a Yankee yourself, aren't you? Well, if I hadn't
been able to manage how do you s'pose I'd ever have got my quilt done
in time for the State fair? Fifty-five thousand five hundred and fifty
pieces there's in it, and I've willed it to Jessica Trent when I'm
done exhibitin' it. None of 'em bigger 'n a finger nail, and all done
over paper. That's a piece of work, I 'low. What's your complaint?"
"I--I don't know as I have any. They've made me very comfortable and
welcome."
"Dare say. They couldn't do otherwise. Giddap there, Balaam. Rosetty
smells alfalfa, and you'll have to step out to keep up with a cow 'at
does that. I mean what's your disease?"
"Oh! well--it's of no consequence."
"Man alive, don't neglect yourself. You're yallar. You've got the
janders. Sure's I'm a living woman that's what it is."
"I think not. I hope not," said the poor man, but rather feebly.
"Sure. Or shingles. I've never seen a real likely case of shingles, and
if it _should_ be that, I'd just admire to nurse you. What victuals you
been eating?"
The dyspeptic winced. This sounded truly professional, for all his
numerous physicians had prefaced their treatment by a similar question.
"I've been able to eat almost anything and everything since I came
into this country of open-air living. The last thing was some of Elsa
Winkler's swiebach and honey-sweetened coffee."
"You don't say! Oh! oh! Poison, sir, rank poison. You may as well count
yourself dead and laid out----"
The unfortunate stranger shivered and turned pale. For some half hour
past, he had been suffering various qualms which he had attributed to
Elsa's hospitality, but to tell a nervous invalid that he has been
poisoned is to increase his misery a hundredfold. If Aunt Sally had
desired a patient she was now in a fair way to secure one; but her
words were without any significance to herself beyond the fact that
she favored neither Elsa nor her cookery. Elsa's knitting work had
crowded her own patchwork pretty closely at that famous fair, and the
handsome money prize, which she felt belonged of rights to herself,
had been halved between the pair. Because, though their skill lay
along different lines, they had both signed their exhibits: "From
Sobrante," and, manifestly, the judges could not give two first premiums
to one estate.
This memory served to change her thoughts from disease to a detailed
history of the wonderful quilt, during which they arrived at Mrs.
Trent's cottage and dinner.
But this could not yet be served. Aunt Sally must needs first see her
son, and after the fondest of greetings, cautiously consign to him the
care of her personal outfit. She even ran after him--as he walked away,
grinning and leading the now obstreperous cow--with a vial in her hand,
begging:
"Now son, please me, before you eat that 'mess' of men's cooking by
taking one spoonful of this dandelion relish. Made it myself, purposely
for you, and I'll warrant no alcohol in it, either."
Experience had proved that protestation was worse than useless; so, with
another grin, but a really affectionate "Thank you," John accepted the
vial and once more started stableward.
"Now, Aunt Sally, come! You must be hungry yourself, after your long
ride," urged Mrs. Trent, hospitably, and with sincere pleasure lighting
her gentle face. Living so far from other women made the presence of
even this uncouth one a comfort, and experience had proved that Mrs.
Benton was, in time of need, that "rough diamond" which she claimed
herself to be.
"All right, honey; in a minute. I'll just step out to the kitchen and
pass the time of day with Wun Lung. Besides----"
Jessica caught Aunt Sally around her waist--as far as she could
reach--and tried to prevent her leaving the room, but was lightly
set aside, with the remark:
"Face is next door to the mouth. Guess I want to see what sort of food
that heathen's got ready for us, 'fore I touch it!"
"Oh, Aunt Sally! In my house--can't you trust me?" asked the hostess,
with mild protest. Though she knew before she spoke that her will as
opposed to Mrs. Benton's, at least in minor matters, was powerless.
So she quietly brought a book and offered it to Mr. Hale, with the
suggestion that he make himself content for the present.
"The dinner will be delayed and there will be a rumpus in the kitchen.
But the dinner will be all the better for waiting and the rumpus will
end in Wun Lung taking another rest while Aunt Sally does his work.
Fortunately, she is a prime cook, and we shall fare sumptuously every
day. I'd be glad to keep her here, always, if I could."
"Old Ephraim Marsh did not appear to share your sentiments," and he
described "Forty-niner's" behavior and remarks at first sighting Mrs.
Benton's wagon.
"Then you found him. He's come back with you? Oh! I am so thankful.
Sobrante wouldn't seem itself without that straightforward, honest old
man."
"You are certain he is that?" asked, rather than asserted, the other.
"As certain as that there is honesty anywhere. What can you mean? Why do
you seem so doubtful?"
"I don't wish to be a talebearer, but another of your adoring
_proteges_ is in dire trouble. Elsa has been robbed and accuses this
unfortunate person of being the culprit."
"Such a thing would be impossible."
"So it seemed to me. Yet that old Wolfgang finally got it through his
head--he appeared duller of wit than his wife--that to lose sight of
Ephraim was to lose the money forever. Your little daughter promised to
produce him when needed, and after considerable opposition they allowed
him to come away. I fancy they began to suspect me even. I fear, madam,
I have visited Sobrante at an unfortunate time."
Mrs. Trent was paying but slight attention to his words. Her mind was
already disturbed by many inexplicable things and would revert to
Antonio's insinuations which, without Jessica's knowledge, she had also
overheard. After a moment, recalled by high voices in the kitchen, she
rallied, and apologizing for so doing, hastily left the dining-porch.
There were several gleaming pots and pans upon the oil cooking-stove
and behind these stood Wun Lung, tenaciously grasping a meat dish and
glaring unutterable things out of his beady eyes upon the excited woman
who faced him, demanding:
"Give me that platter, monkey-face! Suppose I'll put your dirty
victuals into my clean mouth or anybody else's? I've tasted your
stuff before. A burnt bairn dreads the fire. Hand it over. I'll see if
it's fit. There! That rice is boiling over."
The dish of savory lamb stew had been most daintily and carefully
prepared after his mistress' own minute directions, but Wun Lung now
slammed it upon the table with much violence and seized the pipkin of
rice from the stove. With undue emphasis he placed this beside the stew
and, advancing toward Mrs. Trent, made several profound salaams.
"Lat m'loman come--me glo. Good-by."
And for many a day thereafter Wun Lung served no more in that, his own
beloved kitchen.
Not a whit disturbed was Aunt Sally. Revolution had become as the breath
in her nostrils. Wherever she went old orders were reversed and all
things became new. At a little town, with an unpronounceable Spanish
name, which it suited her to call "Boston," she had her home-room in
the house of a long-suffering woman cousin, whose ill-health afforded
her infinite employment, therefore enjoyment. The invalid endured these
ministrations because Aunt Sally also supported her, as well as ruled
her; but she appreciated the rest which followed whenever the itching of
Mrs. Benton's feet called their owner elsewhere. Between "Boston" and
Sobrante the patriotic wagon vibrated, like a long-distance pendulum,
and departing from either point carried everything belonging to its
proprietor within it. "Boston" having become wearisome it was now
Sobrante's turn.
"I haven't been so happy since I first trod shoe leather. Now, honey,
you'll have good, clean fixings, with no opium nor rat tails in 'em,"
she gleefully announced, returning to the table.
"Aunt Sally, hush! What an opinion you'll give our guest of my
housekeeping!" laughed Mrs. Trent.
"Pooh, child! Anybody that looks at you'll know you hate dirt. Now,
eat, all. Only--you, Mr. Hale, I must insist you take a dose of this
saffron tea. I steeped it while I was having that set-to with the
Chinaman, for I thank my stars I can always do two things at once. And
if I know the signs--Gabriella Trent, if that man hasn't got the
janders or shingles, or malary fever, don't you tell me a thing!"
"I certainly shall not tell you any such thing as that, dear soul. The
trouble is, Mr. Hale, Aunt Sally is never so happy as when she has a sick
person to nurse. If nobody is ill she does her utmost to make somebody
so, with her uncalled for doses and stews. But--once be ill! Ah! dear
Aunt Sally, I know how tender is your touch and how faithful your watch.
God bless you!"
Not often was the gentle mistress moved to such emotion, and Mrs. Benton
now put on her spectacles and regarded her hostess over them with a
critical air.
"Land, honey! You must be coming down with something yourself! I never
heard that janders was catching, but, heart of grace, it might be! Yes,
in-deedy, it might be!"
The delight of her tone was equaled only by the sparkle of her eye. To
have come to Sobrante, guided merely by the itching of a foot and to find
two patients ready to hand, what mortal could ask more?
Possibly, with the intention of helping on their timely disorders,
she heaped her neighbors' plates with the savory dinner, which was
wholly due to Wun Lung's skill, and not, as she fancied, to her brief
supervision.
When the meal was over, Aunt Sally retreated to the kitchen, after
forcing Mrs. Trent to lie down and rest, "whether or no;" and to aid
the lady's slumbers, there presently arose from without the lusty cries
of two small lads who had returned from some prank, late as usual, and
as usual, desperately hungry.
"I will have my dinner, so there, you old Aunt Sally! I will go tell
my mother--I won't be spanked--I won't I--I--I----"
"Wonbepanked!" screamed another childish treble.
"Yes, you will, the brace of you. Spare the rod and spoil the child.
That's what Gabriella does, all the time, soft-hearted dear that she
is. A good, sound spanking once in six months is all that keeps you in
a state of salvation. If it wasn't for me I don't know what in reason
you little tackers would grow up to be. One thing I do know, though, and
so do you, and that is--that while your old Aunt Sally is at Sobrante
ranch you'll never be late to your victuals again."
In this events proved that the speaker was right, as, indeed, she had
often been before on similar occasions.
Knowing that this little family jar would result in no serious harm to
her idolized son, Mrs. Trent lay still and thought, but did not sleep.
How could she? What a subtle thing is suggestion!
Poor, overburdened Gabriella Trent had known and trusted old Epbraim
Marsh for many years; yet the words of Antonio, and now of this stranger
within her gates, lingered in her memory and would not then leave.
Up in his pleasant guest chamber Mr. Hale felt within himself the
increasing vigor of returning health, tempered for the moment, it may
be, by a little indiscretion of diet; yet the assertion of that noisy
old woman below stairs, that he was, despite all, on the verge of some
serious illness, so worked upon his still weakened nerves that he
could neither sleep nor forget them.
The result in both cases was unfortunate.
That evening Mrs. Trent forbade her daughter the rifle practice for
which, promply on his return, Ephraim had made special preparation. Her
refusal hurt the old fellow, already sensitive from a previous injury,
and he reflected, bitterly, as he once more sought his monkish chamber:
"After all, whoever dismissed me was right. I'm too old for use. I'd
better never have come back."
As for Mr. Hale, brooding and an unwise exposure to the night air on the
previous evening, did bring on a slight fever. Worriment increased this
and, like many men, he was impatient under suffering; so that when his
bell rang sharply, demanding attention, he was in a fair way to require
all that Aunt Sally or any other had to give.
Meanwhile, down at the adobe quarters, other suspicions were rife.
"What is that man doing here, any way? He don't tell his business, and
he's asked a power of questions. He's wormed out of one and another
of us all there is to learn about this ranch, and he hasn't let on a
single thing about himself, except that he's a lawyer from New York.
New York's a big village and all lawyers can lie. I'm bound to sound
that chap before I'm many hours older," said Joe Dean, bringing his
hands down heavily upon the table.
"I know a trick worth two of that. Set mother on him!" cried John
Benton, gayly. "She'll ask more questions to the square inch than
any other human being I ever met, and she'll have all his business,
family history, and present undertakings out of him before he can say
Jack Robinson. Lucky for us she got that itching foot just when she did."
So it was agreed; and thus, primed to the fullest investigation, Aunt
Sally and her curiosity established themselves within their victim's
sickroom. When they emerged from it, at daybreak, the one had been fully
satisfied--with horror; and the ruddy face of the other had grown white
and heartbroken as no single night of watching should have left it.