CHAPTER XII.

"CARRYING OUT DEAR MR. HAMILTON'S PLANS."

One morning about ten days after the departure of Walter the good

people of Glenwood were greatly surprised at the unusual confusion

which seemed to pervade the homestead. The blinds were taken off,

windows taken out, carpets taken up, and where so lately physicians,

clergymen, and death had officiated, were now seen carpenters, masons,

and other workmen. Many were the surmises as to the cause of all this;

and one old lady, more curious than the rest, determined upon a

friendly call, to ascertain, if possible, what was going on.

She found Mrs. Hamilton with her sleeves rolled up, and her hair

tucked under a black cap, consulting with a carpenter about enlarging

her bedroom and adding to it a bathing-room. Being received but coldly

by the mistress of the house, she descended to the basement, where she

was told by Aunt Polly that "the blinds were going to be repainted, an

addition built, the house turned wrong-side out, and Cain raised

generally."

"It's a burning shame," said Aunt Polly, warmed up by her subject and

the hot oven into which she was thrusting loaves of bread and pies.

"It's a burning shame--a tearin' down and a goin' on this way, and

marster not cold in his grave. Miss Lenora, with all her badness, says

it's disgraceful, but he might ha' know'd it. _I_ did. I know'd it the

fust time she came here a nussin'. I don't see what got into him to

have her. Polly Pepper, without any larnin', never would ha' done such

a thing," continued she, as the door closed upon her visitor, who was

anxious to carry the gossip back to the village.

It was even as Aunt Polly had said. Mrs. Hamilton, who possessed a

strong propensity for pulling down and building up, and who would have

made an excellent carpenter, had long had an earnest desire for

improving the homestead; and now that there was no one to prevent her,

she went to work with a right good will, saying to Lenora, who

remonstrated with her upon the impropriety of her conduct, that "she

was merely carrying out dear Mr. Hamilton's plans," who had proposed

making these changes before his death.

"Dear Mr. Hamilton!" repeated Lenora, "very dear has he become to you,

all at once. I think if you had always manifested a little more

affection for him and his, they might not have been where they now

are."

"Seems to me you take a different text from what you did some months

ago," said Mrs. Hamilton; "but perhaps you don't remember the time?"

"I remember it well," answered Lenora, "and quite likely, with your

training, I should do the same again. We were poor, and I wished for a

more elegant home. I fancied that Margaret Hamilton was proud and had

slighted me, and I longed for revenge; but when I knew her I liked her

better, and when I saw that she was not to be trampled down by you or

me, my hatred of her turned to admiration. The silly man who has paid

the penalty of his weakness, I always despised; but when I saw how

fast the gray hairs thickened on his head; how careworn and bowed down

he grew, I pitied him, for I knew that his heart was breaking. Willie

I truly, unselfishly loved; and I am charitable enough to think that

even _you_ loved _him_, but it was through your neglect that he died,

and for his death you will answer. Carrie was gentle and trusting, but

weak, like her father. I do not think you killed her, for she was

dying when we came here, but you put the crowning act of wickedness to

your life when you compelled a man, shattered in body and intellect,

to write a will which disinherited his only son; but on that point you

are baffled. To be sure, you've got the homestead, and for decency's

sake I think I'd wait a while longer ere I commenced tearing down and

building up."

Lenora's words had no effect whatever upon her mother, who still kept

on with her plans, treating with silent contempt the remarks of the

neighbors, or wishing, perhaps, that they would attend to their own

business, just as she was attending to hers! Day after day the work

went on. Scaffoldings were raised--paper and plastering torn

off--boards were seasoning in the sun--shingles lying upon the

ground--ladders raised against the wall; and all this while the two

new graves showed not a blade of grass, and the earth looked black and

fresh as it did when first it was placed there.

When at last the blinds were hung, the house cleaned, and the carpets

nailed down, Mrs. Hamilton, who had designed it all the time, called

together the servants, whom she had disliked on account of their

preference for Margaret, and told them to look for new places, as

their services were no longer needed there.

"You can make out your bills," said she, at the same time intimating

they hadn't one of them more than earned their board, if they had

that! Polly Pepper wasn't of material to stand by and hear such

language from one whom she considered beneath her.

"Hadn't she as good a right there as anybody? Yes, indeed, she had!

Wasn't she there a full thirty year before any of your low-lived trash

came round a nussin'?"

"Polly," interposed Mrs. Hamilton, "leave the room instantly, you

ungrateful thing!"

"Ungrateful for what?" said Polly. "Haven't I worked and slaved like

an old nigger, as I am? and now you call me ungrateful, and say I

hain't arnt my bread. I'll sue you for slander;" and the enraged

Polly left the room, muttering, "half arnt my board, indeed! I'll bet

I've made a hundred thousan' pies, to say nothin' of the puddings, _I_

not arn my board!"

When again safe in what for so many years had been her own peculiar

province, she sat down to meditate. "I'd as good go without any fuss,"

thought she, "but my curse on the madam who sends me away!"

In the midst of her reverie, Lenora entered the kitchen, and to her

the old lady detailed her grievances, ending with, "Pears like she

don't know nothin' at all about etiquette, nor nothin' else."

"Etiquette!" repeated Lenora. "You are mistaken, Polly; mother would

sit on a point of etiquette till she wore the back breadth of her

dress out. But it isn't that which she lacks--it's decency. But,

Polly," said she, changing the subject, "where do you intend to go and

how?"

"To my brother Sam's," said Polly. "He lives three miles in the

country, and I've sent Robin to the village for a horse and wagon to

carry my things."

Here Mrs. Hamilton entered the kitchen, followed by a strapping Irish

girl, nearly six feet in height. Her hair, flaming red, was twisted

round a huge back comb; her faded calico dress came far above her

ankles; her brawny arms were folded one over the other; and there was

in her appearance something altogether disagreeable and defiant. Mrs.

Hamilton introduced her as Ruth, her new cook, saying she hoped she

would know enough to keep her place better than her predecessor had

done.

Aunt Polly surveyed her rival from head to foot, and then glancing

aside to Lenora, muttered, "Low-lived, depend on't."

Robin now drove up with the wagon, and Mrs. Hamilton and Lenora left

the room, while Polly went to prepare herself for her ride. Her

sleeping apartment was in the basement and communicated with the

kitchen. This was observed by the new cook, who had a strong dislike

of negroes, and who feared that she might be expected to occupy the

same bed.

"An' faith," said she, "is it where the like of ya have burrowed that

I am to turn in?"

"I don't understand no such low-flung stuff," answered Polly, "but if

you mean you are to have this bedroom, I suppose you are."

Here Polly had occasion to go up-stairs for something, and on her

return she found that Ruth, during her absence, had set fire to a

large linen rag, which she held on a shovel and was carrying about the

bedroom, as if to purify it from every atom of negro atmosphere which

might remain. Polly was quick-witted, and instantly comprehending the

truth, she struck the shovel from the hands of Ruth, exclaiming, "You

spalpeen, is it because my skin ain't a dingy yaller and all freckled

like yourn? Lord, look at your carrot-topped cocoanut, and then tell

me if wool ain't a heap the most genteel."

In a moment a portion of the boasted wool was lying on the floor, or

being shaken from the thick, red fingers of the cook, while Irish

blood was flowing freely from the nose which Polly, in her vengeful

wrath, had wrung. Further hostilities were prevented by Robin, who

screamed that he couldn't wait any longer, and shaking her fist

fiercely at the red-head, Polly departed.

That day Lucy and Rachel also left, and their places were supplied by

two raw hands, one of whom, before the close of the second day,

tumbled up-stairs with the large soup tureen, breaking it in fragments

and scalding the foot of Mrs. Hamilton, who was in the rear, and who,

having waited an hour for dinner, had descended to the kitchen to know

why it was not forthcoming, saying that Polly had never been so behind

the time.

The other one, on being asked if she understood chamber work, had

replied, "Indade, and it's been my business all my life." She was

accordingly sent to make the beds and empty the slop. Thinking it an

easy way to dispose of the latter, she had thrown it from the window,

deluging the head and shoulders of her mistress who was bending down

to examine a rose bush which had been recently set out. Lenora was in

ecstasies, and when at noon her mother received a sprinkling of red

hot soup, she gravely asked her "which she relished most, cold or warm

baths!"

Homestead on the Hillside · 第 12 / 15 章