A RUSTY NAIL.
On Monday Casey and his men came. Louisiana and her father were at
breakfast when they struck their first blow at the end of the house
which was to be renovated first.
The old man, hearing it, started violently--so violently that he almost
upset the coffee at his elbow.
He laughed a tremulous sort of laugh.
"Why, I'm narvous!" he said. "Now, jest to think o' me a-bein'
narvous!"
"I suppose," said Louisiana, "I am nervous as well. It made me start
too. It had such a strange sound."
"Waal, now," he answered, "come to think on it, it hed--sorter. Seems
like it wasn't sca'cely nat'ral. P'r'aps that's it."
Neither of them ate much breakfast, and when the meal was over they
went out together to look at the workmen. They were very busy tearing
off weather-boarding and wrenching out nails. Louisiana watched them
with regretful eyes. In secret she was wishing that the low ceilings
and painted walls might remain as they were. She had known them so
long.
"I am afraid he is doing it to please me," she thought. "He does not
believe me when I say I don't want it altered. He would never have had
it done for himself."
Her father had seated himself on a pile of plank. He was rubbing his
crossed leg as usual, but his hand trembled slightly.
"I druv them nails in myself," he said. "Ianthy wasn't but nineteen.
She'd set yere an' watch me. It was two or three months arter we was
married. She was mighty proud on it when it was all done. Little Tom
he was born in thet thar room. The rest on 'em was born in the front
room, 'n' they all died thar. Ianthy she died thar. I'd useder think
I should----"
He stopped and glanced suddenly at Louisiana. He pulled himself up and
smiled.
"Ye aint in the notion o' hevin' the cupoly," he said. "We kin hev it
as soon as not--'n' seems ter me thar's a heap o' style to 'em."
"Anything that pleases you will please me, father," she said.
He gave her a mild, cheerful look.
"Ye don't take much int'russ in it yet, do ye?" he said. "But ye will
when it gits along kinder. Lord! ye'll be as impatient as Ianthy an'
me war when it gits along."
She tried to think she would, but without very much success. She
lingered about for a while and at last went to her own room at the
other end of the house and shut herself in.
Her trunk had been carried upstairs and set in its old place behind the
door. She opened it and began to drag out the dresses and other
adornments she had taken with her to the Springs. There was the blue
muslin. She threw it on the floor and dropped beside it, half sitting,
half kneeling. She laughed quite savagely.
"I thought it was very nice when I made it," she said. "I wonder how
_she_ would like to wear it?" She pulled out one thing after another
until the floor around her was strewn. Then she got up and left them,
and ran to the bed and threw herself into a chair beside it, hiding her
face in the pillow.
"Oh, how dull it is, and how lonely!" she said. "What shall I do?
What shall I do?"
And while she sobbed she heard the blows upon the boards below.
Before she went down-stairs she replaced the things she had taken from
the trunk. She packed them away neatly, and, having done it, turned
the key upon them.
"Father," she said, at dinner, "there are some things upstairs I want
to send to Cousin Jenny. I have done with them, and I think she'd like
to have them."
"Dresses an' things, Louisianny?" he said.
"Yes," she answered. "I shall not need them any more. I--don't care
for them."
"Don't--" he began, but stopped short, and, lifting his glass,
swallowed the rest of the sentence in a large glass of milk.
"I'll tell Leander to send fer it," he said afterward. "Jenny'll be
real sot up, I reckon. Her pappy bein' so onfort'nit, she don't git
much."
He ate scarcely more dinner than breakfast, and spent the afternoon in
wandering here and there among the workmen. Sometimes he talked to
them, and sometimes sat on his pile of plank and watched them in
silence. Once, when no one was looking, he stooped down and picked up
a rusty nail which had fallen from its place in a piece of board.
After holding it in his hand for a little he furtively thrust it into
his pocket, and seemed to experience a sense of relief after he had
done it.
"Ye don't do nothin' toward helpin' us, Uncle Elbert," said one of the
young men. (Every youngster within ten miles knew him as "Uncle
Elbert.") "Ye aint as smart as ye was when last ye built, air ye?"
"No, boys," he answered, "I ain't. That's so. I aint as smart, an',"
he added, rather hurriedly, "it'd sorter go agin me to holp ye at what
ye're doin' now. Not as I don't think it's time it was done, but--it'd
sorter go ag'in me."
When Louisiana entered the house-room at dusk, she found him sitting by
the fire, his body drooping forward, his head resting listlessly on his
hand.
"I've got a touch o' dyspepsy, Louisianny," he said, "an' the knockin'
hes kinder giv me a headache. I'll go to bed airly."