writ it from Knoxville fifty-one years ago come last October. Did
_you_ ever hear of her?"
Mrs. Lathrop screwed her face up thoughtfully, but was forced to screw
it into a negation after all.
"Seems funny 't father never spoke o' her after mother was so far past
bein' jealous 's to be buried. He c'd 'a' said anythin' about anybody
them years, 'n' 'f I had time to listen I'd 'a' been bound to hear,
but to my certain knowledge he never said one word o' family 'xcept to
remark over 'n' over 's he thanked the Lord Almighty 's he had n't got
none, which words I naturally took 's signifyin' 's he was speakin'
the truth. Still a man is a man, 'n' this letter proves 's you can't
even be sure o' one 's has been in bed under your own eye f'r twenty
years, f'r it not only shows 's he did have a relation, but it shows
suthin' else too; it shows me, 's has had four men all tryin' to marry
me inside o' the same week, 't suthin' pretty close to love-makin' 'd
passed between her 's wrote this letter 'n' him 's kept it carefully
hid away till long after he was dead. There's a shakiness about the
writin' 'n' a down-hilledness about the lines 's lets me right into
the secret o' their hearts, 'n' I'm willin' to venture a guess 't
Cousin Marion c'd get money out o' father with less pain 'n mother
could, under which circumstances I don't blame mother for closin' down
on the subjeck.
"The more I consider that letter up 'n' down 'n' hind end to, Mrs.
Lathrop, the plainer I see 's Cousin Marion must 'a' been a sore 'n'
abidin' thorn inside o' father 'n' mother. Perhaps it was that as give
him the paralysis! The doctor said 's it was suthin' obscure, 'n' 'f
suthin' 's ain't found out till years after you 're dead ain't obscure
I don't know what is. Anyway I 've took my stand 'n' it was the only
sensible one to take. This 's the first chance I 've ever had in all
my life to get a nice change without payin' board, 'n' so I jus' sat
right down 'n' wrote to Cousin Marion 't 'f it was convenient to her I
'd come to Knoxville 'n' spend next Sunday. She 's bound to be pleased
't bein' remembered after fifty years, 'n' I 've got father's nose,
'n' that 'll help some, o' course. She can't be worse 'n dead, 'n' 'f
she's dead 'n' don't answer I sha'n't never give the subjeck another
thought, f'r I naturally ain't got very fond o' her jus' from findin'
her musty old letter stuck in behind the flap of a trunk 's I 've been
achin' to hack to pieces these last twenty years. I never went up in
my garret without I skinned myself somewhere on that trunk, 'n' you
know how often I go up garret, Mrs. Lathrop, so it goes without sayin'
's I 've been considerably skinned first 'n' last. But 'f she sh'd be
alive 'n' I sh'd get to go there, the Lord knows I certainly shall
rejoice to have some o' my own to talk to, f'r blood is thicker 'n
water, 'n' although I don't want to hurt your feelin's, Mrs. Lathrop,
still you can't in conscience deny 's you ain't no conversationalist.
Nobody is that I know hereabouts, neither. The minister talks some,
but I 'm always thinkin' how much more I want to tell him things 'n I
ever want to hear what he has to say, so I can't in truth feel 's his
talkin' gives me much pleasure. Mrs. Macy 's great on gaspin', but she
don't as a general thing get very far, 'n' so the long 'n' short o'
the whole thing is 't if Cousin Marion ain't a change f'r the better
she can't noways be a change f'r the worst, 'n' so I 've made up my
mind to sail right in 'n' risk her.
"I 've thought 's it 'll be a nice idea to take her father's cane for
a present; it 'll surely come very handy to her,--'f she 's alive a
_tall_,--'n' since Mr. Kimball over-persuaded me into buyin' one o'
them patent carpet-beaters, it ain't no manner o' service to me. Not
's I ain't sure 't I don't really prefer the cane to the patent, but I
've paid for the new thing 'n' I ain't goin' to go to work to make
myself feel 's I 've wasted my money. The carpet-beater ain 't up to
Mr. Kimball's talk by long odds, 'n' so far from turnin' into a
egg-beater in the wink of your eye like he promised, you 've got to
grip it fast between your knees 'n' get your back ag'in a flour-bin to
turn it into anythin' a _tall_. 'N' then when it does turn, so far
from bein' a joy it lets up so quick 't you find yourself most
anywhere. Mrs. Craig was gettin' her brace ag'in the hen-house, 'n'
when it let up she sat down so sudden 't she smashed the henhouse 'n'
a whole settin' o' duck-eggs not to speak of the hen between. Mrs.
Macy says 't seein' 's she has more eggs 'n carpets, she jus' beats
her carpets with the egg end 'n' don't fuss to change ever. Mrs.
Fisher says what puts her out is 't the ring 's you slide up to close
the whisks for killin' flies won't stay up, 'n the flies don't get
killed but jus' get hit so they buzz without stoppin' from then on.
Mrs. Jilkins says right out 's she considers the whole thing a
swindle, 'n' 'f Mr. Kimball was n't rentin' his store o' her brother
she sh'd tell him so to his face. She says the three-inch measure on
the handle 's too short to be o' any real service on a farm, 'n' her
opinion is 't Mr. Kimball keeps his sample dipped in kerosene or he
never could snap it in 'n' out so quick. Anyhow it all comes in the
end to the fact 't, havin' bought it, I 'll work it 'f I die f'r it,
'n' so Cousin Marion c'n have the cane, 'n' may she be everlastin'ly
happy usin' it. I did n't get my trunk down 'cause I 'll have Friday
to pack anyhow, 'n' any one c'n slide a trunk down a ladder any time,
but nobody can't never slide nothin' up nowhere. Besides, I sh'd look
like a fool puttin' back a trunk 't I 'd hauled out to visit a cousin
who like enough died afore I was born, 'n' I ain't no fool,--never was
'n' never will be."
There was a short stop for a fresh supply of breath.
"I wonder 'f--" began Mrs. Lathrop.
"The difficulty o' all things in this world," Miss Clegg went on
promptly, "is 't if you have any brains a _tall_ you 're bound to have
so much work for 'em. Now, this findin' o' Cousin Marion no doubt
looks simple enough to you 'n' the world in general, 'n' yet the more
I turn her up 'n' down 'n' inside out the more new lights I get. When
you come to consider 't I only found the letter this mornin', 'n' that
it ain't supper-time yet, you c'n easy see 's my day's been more 'n
full o' brain-work. Comin' up the street this afternoon, the question
o' the possibility o' Cousin Marion's bein' poor come into my mind. I
c'n speak out freely to you, Mrs. Lathrop, 'n' so I will remark 't I
c'n guarantee 's father never give her nothin' o' late years, 'n' 'f
she's poor it don't take no eagle eye to know jus' what'll happen when
she gets my letter. 'F the letter hadn't been posted 'n' the sack gone
to the train afore I thought o' this view o' the matter, I'm free to
confess 's I never would 'a' posted it a _tall_. For there's no use
denyin', Mrs. Lathrop, 't, 'f my visit to Cousin Marion sh'd lead to
her askin' to borrow 's much 's a quarter, I sh'll bitterly regret
ever havin' clawed her out from back o' that trunk-flap. There ain't
no possible good 's c'n ever come o' lendin' money to them's ain't
able to pay it back, 'n' I learned that lesson to my bitter cost once
'n' for all time when I had that little business with Sam Duruy. That
took all the likin' to lend out o' me, 'n' Heaven help me 'f I ever
forget it. I thought I was so safe, Mrs. Lathrop,--I looked in all
four o' his hoofs, 'n' swished my handkerchief in each o' his eyes,
'n' he was certainly lively, so I planked down my little five dollars
'n' Sam was to keep on drivin' the horse. Well, you know 's well 's I
do what happened, 'n' the skin brought seventy-five cents. Sam sued
the railroad, 'n' the railroad asked why he did n't read the 'Look out
for the Locomotive.' I told him to go into court 'n' swear 's he could
n't read, but he said Judge Fitch used to be his school-teacher 'n'
knowed 's he could. 'N' then I offered to go to court myself 'n' swear
on the Bible 's the whole town looked on him 's more 'n half a idiot,
'n' Mr. Duruy jus' sat right flat down on the whole thing. So they did
n't even pay his lawyer, 'n' it goes without sayin' 't o' course he
could n't pay me; 'n' then, do you know, Mrs. Lathrop, 'f he did n't
have the impudence this very afternoon to stop me down in the square
'n' ask me 'f I would n't lend him ten cents on a rooster! I was
pretty nigh to put out over that, I c'n assure you. I mus' 'a' stared
at him f'r 's much 's ten seconds afore I sensed 't he was really fool
enough to think 't mebbe I was fool enough too. 'N' then I let out at
him. 'Not while I have the breath o' life in my body,' I says,--'n' it
shook 's I said it,--'not 'f I know my own mind. What's to guarantee
me,' I says, ''s your rooster won't take it into his head to go
a-promenadin' on the railway track?' I says. He begin to tell 's how,
even dead, the rooster was worth more 'n ten cents. 'I d'n' know about
that,' I says, 'it don't strike me 's noways likely 't when he
suddenly observes the engine 'most on top o' him, he's goin' to take
the time 'n' trouble to lay his head square 'n' even across the rail,
'n' you know 's well 's I do 't no rooster killed cornerways ain't
never goin' to bring no nickel apiece for his corners. No, Mister Sam
Duruy,' I says, 'your lively horse's taught me a lesson,' I says, ''n'
hereafter I don't lend no money on so much 's a egg without I see a
good curb-bit bought 'n' put in its mouth first,' I says; 'n' then I
walked off, 'n' the end o' it all is 't if Cousin Marion's poor I
certainly ain't very wild to have her find out 's I'm rich.
"But then, I ain't very anxious to have her rich either, I must say,
for it don't take no blind man to figger out 't if she 's rich the
money 'd ought to 'a' been mine. 'N' that 's a awful feelin', Mrs.
Lathrop,--the feelin' 's other folks 's rich on money 's 'd ought to
'a' been yours. I ain't sure 's I want to know Cousin Marion 'f such
's the facts o' her case, 'n' 's between her bein' poor 'n' wantin'
money o' me, 'n' her bein' rich on money right out o' my pocket, I
feel like I mebbe clum that ladder this mornin' in a evil hour f'r my
future peace o' mind.
"'N' then, too, 'f she 's rich I certainly can't go to see her without
I buy me a new bonnet. 'F she 's rich, o' course I want her to see
right off 's I 'm rich too, 'n' bein' 's we 're old friends 'n' alone
here together, I c'n truthfully state 's she could n't in reason
mistrust no such thing from my bonnet. It 's a good bonnet, 'n' it's
been a good bonnet year in 'n' year out 'n' in rain 'n' shine turn an'
turn about, but I never was give to deceivin' myself no more nor a
outsider, 'n' so I will frankly say 't it 's long past its first
shininess. Miss White 's freshened it up two times for me, 'n' I
always have new ribbons to tie it every other Easter, but still, in
the box or out o' the box, its day is past for lookin' brand-new, 'n'
I don't deny the truth 's a more foolish woman might feel some
inclined to do. So, such bein' the case, Cousin Marion 'n' a new
bonnet comes to one 'n' the same thing, 'n' I can't say 's
bonnet-buyin' 's a way o' spendin' money 's is over-agreeable to me.
However, 'f it is to be it is to be, 'n' I sha'n't cry over nothin'. I
'll buy the bonnet, 'n' I guess 'f she talks to me about her money I
c'n come out right quick 'n' sharp 'n' talk about mine. 'N' I guess I
c'n talk her down--I 'll try good 'n' hard, I know _that_. 'N' 'f she
sh'd put me beyond all patience, I 'll jus' make no bones about it,
but get right up 'n' smash her flat with her own letter o' fifty years
ago. I don't believe nobody c'd put on airs in the face o' their own
name signed to bein' saved from want by the kind, graspin' hand o' my
dead 'n' gone father."
Susan ceased speaking, and rose suddenly to her feet.
"I must go," she said; "it's time I was seein' about supper, 'n' it's
been a hard day first 'n' last. It's been 'xcitin', 'n' I cleaned the
garret too, 'n' then my mind 's all upset 's to travelling 'n' I've
got to consider a lot afore I c'n decide 's to anythin'. 'N' I only
feel plum sure o' one thing, 'n' that is 's I don't want to buy no new
bonnet. Bonnets is a awful waste o' money, 'n' I've got nothin' inside
o' me 's cries out to extravagance. But speakin' o' waste reminds me
over again 's I don't want to throw no more time away on you, so, 's
I'm always frank 'n' open, I'll jus' say so 'n' go now."
* * * * *
The letter which Susan Clegg had mailed to her cousin "Marion Prim,
Knoxville," did actually reach the hands of the person for whom it was
intended, and the evening of the second day after brought an answer
which the two friends studied together in a mutual intellectual
darkness.
"Says she's lived for fifty years on the motto, 'S'fficient unto the
day 's the evil thereof,' 'n' now my letter's come,"--it was thus that
Susan voiced her understanding of the matter,--"says I c'n come 'f I
want to, 'n' mebbe it'll be some consolation! I don't call that by no
means cordial, but I 'm bound to consider 't 'f Cousin Marion 's any
kin to father she could n't naturally be very open-hearted, 'n' I must
overlook her with a good grace 'n' a clear conscience. I 'll go
because I 've made up my mind to go, but I won't take no trunk nor yet
buy no new bonnet."
Mrs. Lathrop offering no counter advice, Miss Clegg returned to the
shelter of her own roof, and to judge by the banging and squeaking
that ensued, burglars were barred out from even daring to dream of a
possible raid during the absence which was to be upon the following
day. About nine o'clock peace fell over all and lasted until the dawn
of the eventful Saturday.
When Susan was all ready to start for the station, she called her
friend to the fence and shook hands with her so warmly that the tears
overflowed the awe in the other's eyes.
"Good-bye, Mrs. Lathrop," she said with a solemnity that had nothing
to relieve its sombreness and much to deepen the impressiveness of the
moment. "Good-bye! I 'm goin' now, 'n' I sh'll be back this evenin',
'n' so help me God while I'm gone, for I have a goose-flesh kind o' a
sensation 't I'm goin' to get a surprise."
Mrs. Lathrop clung to her in a heart-wrung silence. Both the friends
were deeply affected, feeling that this journey was a something quite
apart from Susan's ordinary every-day little expeditions to the city.
Finally Miss Clegg withdrew her hand, straightened out the resultant
wrinkles in her mitt, and stalked away. Mrs. Lathrop sighed sadly,
returned to her own rocker, and entered upon the course of a long day
of patient waiting.
It was about three in the afternoon that, to her great surprise, she
saw Miss Clegg returning. There was something altogether new and
strange in the gait of the latter while she was at a distance, and as
she drew nearer Mrs. Lathrop's eyes and mouth opened together. The
nearer that Susan drew the more provocative of astonishment was her
general appearance. To sum up the whole state of the case in as few
words as possible, I will say that she seemed to have barely survived
some hitherto totally unknown species of catastrophe. Mrs. Lathrop,
much overcome, ran to the door and cried,--
"Come over! I've got the kettle--"
"I was comin' anyhow," Susan called feebly back, and wearily dragging
herself through the gate, along the walk, and up the steps, sank down
finally in one of the kitchen chairs.
Mrs. Lathrop hastened to fortify her with hot tea and gingerbread. She
ate and drank in silence for some time, only volunteering, as she took
the third cup,--
"I ain't had nothin' since I left home."
"Didn't you find your--" Mrs. Lathrop began eagerly.
"Cousin?" said the traveller, in a tone that suggested revelations as
yet unrevealed,--"oh, yes, Mrs. Lathrop, I found my cousin."
Mrs. Lathrop felt herself to be silenced, and spoke no more. Miss
Clegg drank all the tea and ate all the gingerbread. Then, when there
was nothing else left to do, she declared herself satisfied, and
fixing her gaze mercilessly upon the quaking listener, discharged her
first shot.
"I wish I'd never gone!"
This statement was made with a vigor that supported its truth in full.
Mrs. Lathrop quivered slightly, and waited breathlessly to hear more.
"I wish I'd never gone, 'n' for the future, Mrs. Lathrop, I'll thank
you to never so much 's breathe a relation anywhere near me, for I've
had enough family to-day to last me from here to Gabriel 'n' his
trumpet, 'n' 'f I ever forget this hour may I die in that one."
Mrs. Lathrop gasped.
Susan coughed and gripped her hands tightly together.
"Mrs. Lathrop, the Bible says 's we may never know what a day 'll
bring forth, 'n' 'f I'd 'a' known that this day was gettin' ready to
hatch such a Cousin Marion 's I found, I certainly would 'a' spent it
some other way. When I think o' the cheerful lovin' spirit 's I pinned
my wave on in, 'n' then reflect on what I pinned it on to, I can't but
feel 't if I ain't a fool I 'd ought to be one, 'n' I can't say
nothin' stronger for the way I feel. They say 's the Devil 's the
father o' lies, but it's a slander. The Devil is a floatin' angel by
the side o' that letter 's I found. It was a lie, Mrs. Lathrop, a lie
from first to last, 'n' it makes my blood run cold to think o' all the
years that I lived right underneath it 'n' never 's much 's dreamed o'
the iniquity up in that old trunk over my head."
Mrs. Lathrop gasped again.
"Mrs. Lathrop, I never had it in me to conceal nothin' from you. We've
been good friends 'n' true through thick 'n' thin, through my father
'n' your son 'n' every other species o' Heaven-sent infliction, f'r
years 'n' years 'n' years. 'N' now I ain't goin' to shut you out o'
the inside truth o' this awful day. You see me set off this mornin'
bright 'n' beamin', 'n' you see me come home this night burnin' 'n'
bitter, 'n' it's nothin' but right's you sh'd be fully took in to the
betwixt 'n' between. It'll mebbe be a lesson to you some day if
anythin' sh'd come up 's led you to look to be extra happy all of a
sudden, 'n' you'll remember this hour 'n' jus' firmly go back into the
house 'n' shut the door 'n' say, 'Life's a delusion 'n' a snare, like
Susan Clegg's Cousin Marion.' It's better for you to learn the lesson
's all is vanity now, than to wait 'n' have it fall on your head like
a unexpected pickle-jar, the way 's this day 's fell on mine."
Mrs. Lathrop's eyes grew big.
"Mrs. Lathrop, in the first place I started out all wrong. Knoxville
ain't on this line a _tall_. It's on the A. 'n' B., 'n' only the
junction is on this line. Mrs. Lathrop, don't you never trust yourself
to no junction in this world o' sin 'n' sorrow, whatever else you may
in your folly see fit to commit. My experience c'n jus' 's well be a
warnin' to you too, f'r I was put off three miles from where there
ain't no omnibus, 'n' I had to leg it over a road 's is laid out three
hills to the mile. I ain't one 's is give to idle words, but I will
remark 't by the time I'd clum the fourth hill I hadn't no kind o'
family feelin's left alive within me, 'n' when I did finally get to
Knoxville I was so nigh to puffed out 't I c'd hardly find breath to
ask where Cousin Marion _did_ live. It was a boy skippin' rope 's I
asked, 'n' he never quit skippin' for one second out o' politeness.
Seems he was doin' a thousand steady on a bet, 'n' I'm free to confess
's I felt pretty foolish askin' questions 'n' his rope like to catch
on my nose every other word. I finally made out, though, 's Cousin
Marion lived out the other end o' town, 'n' so I walked on till I come
to the road. Mrs. Lathrop, it was another road o' hills, 'n' I must
say 's the sight made my blood run cold for the third time in one day.
F'r a minute I thought seriously o' jus' takin' a train away ag'in 'n'
lettin' Cousin Marion fiddle alone f'r another fifty years, f'r I give
you my word o' honor, Mrs. Lathrop, 's I was 'most dead, 'n' Lord only
knows what made me keep on, f'r what came after was enough to shake my
faith in the Lord forever 'f I really believed 's any one but Cousin
Marion had one word to say in the matter. But I was raised to finish
up all things 's is begun, 'n' I snapped my teeth tight together 'n'
set out over them extra hills with all the resignation 's I c'd scrape
up f'r the need o' the moment. I was hot inside 'n' hot outside, but
I'd made up my mind to see the thing through 'n' so I pegged right
along.
"Well, Mrs. Lathrop, 'f I was on the witness stand with Bibles above
'n' below, I c'd n't but swear 's it was two miles 'f it was a cent.
'N' even then they was a long two miles. I was on my very last legs
when I got there, 'n' nothin' 't I see revived me none. Mrs. Lathrop,
the awfullest old tumble-down house 's ever you see--pigs in the yard,
'n' 'Prim' on the gate-post! 'N' me standin' pantin' for breath, 'n'
related to 'em all!"
Mrs. Lathrop's eyes grew bigger and bigger.
"There was a old man a-sittin' on a chair on the porch in one boot 'n'
one slipper 'n' a cane. He looked 't me 's if it 'd be nothin' but a
joy to him to eat me up alive 'n' jus' relish to gnaw the bones
afterwards. You c'n maybe realize, Mrs. Lathrop, 's I wasn't no ways
happy 's I walked a little piece up towards him 'n' said 's I 'd like
to see my cousin, Marion Prim. He give such a nod 's seemed 's if his
head 'd fly off, 'n' I took it 's she was somewhere near 'n' a-comin'.
So, 's I was all used up, I jus' started to sink right down on the
steps to wait for her.
"Oh, my soul 'n' body, that minute!--The awful shock!--Oh, Mrs.
Lathrop! you never in all your life dreamed such a yell 's he give! I
like to 'a' went deaf! I jumped worse 'n 'f I 'd been shot stone-dead.
Wild whoopin' Indians was sleepin' babes beside him. 'Not on my
steps!' he shrieked, poundin' with his cane 'n' shakin' with his
fist,--'not on my steps,' he howled louder 'n all below,--'not while I
'm alive!--not while I c'n prevent!--not while I c'n help it!--no
Clegg sits afore me, not now 'n' not never!' You c'n imagine, Mrs.
Lathrop, 's I didn't get very far to sat down under them
circumstances. I trembled all over, 'n' I backed off quite a little
ways 'n' looked at him. He kept chokin' 'n' gaspin' 'n' purple 'n'
swallowin', 'n' after a while I got up courage to ask him where Cousin
Marion was. 'N' then--oh, Mrs. Lathrop!--'n' then--well, honest, I
thought's he was goin' to bust!--'n' then, 'I'm Cousin Marion!' he
yelled right in my face,--'I'm Cousin Marion, Susan Clegg!' 'n' at
that, Mrs. Lathrop, I went so faint in my knees 'n' so rumbly in my
ears 't you c'd 'a' clubbed me with a straw 'n' gagged me with a wisp
o' hay that minute. I jus' stood starin', 'n' you c'n believe me or
not just's you please, but I never was so nigh to fallen over
backwards in all my life before. I c'd feel cold drops like water on a
duck's back, 'n' my senses was that mixed 't 'f you'd told me 's my
heels was in my hair I wouldn't 'a' doubted you. I d'n' know 's I ever
was scared in all my life afore, but when he screamed them awful
words, my very insides got clammy. I c'd n't say a livin' word, I c'd
n't make a livin' move; I c'd only stand 'n' shake 'n' listen, 'n' him
keepin' on yellin' 'n' poundin' like mad.
"'Susan Clegg,' he screamed, 'Susan Clegg,'--'n' he kep' poundin'
harder 'n' harder 'n' gettin' redder 'n' redder every minute,--'Susan
Clegg, I'm glad you've come; I've wanted you to come; I've wanted you
to come f'r a long time. I did n't know who it'd be, but I 've been
wantin' somebody to come 'n' been waitin' f'r 'em to come f'r fifty
years 'n' more too. I've been holdin in f'r fifty years! I've been
thinkin' what I wanted to say f'r fifty years! Now I c'n say it! Now I
c'n be happy sayin' it! I wish it was your father's ears a-shiverin'
there afore me, but yours 'll do.'
"My heavens alive, Mrs. Lathrop, you'd ought to 'a' seen him! He went
from red to purple 'n' from purple to mos' black, 'n' his eyes stood
right out, 'n' he shook his cane right in my face 'n' screamed loud
enough to set the dead jumpin'.