Alfred peered through a hole in Mrs. Evans' rag carpet and his blood
froze in his veins. Heading the procession was grandpap, wide flowing,
white collar, hat in hand. He appeared to Alfred an avenging nemesis.
Following closely, came Uncle Ned, stern, and solemn Aunt Sarah. Cousin
Charley and old Tommy Moorehouse brought up the rear of the advancing
column.
Alfred felt the tent swaying as if in a gale. The tent swayed again. Lin
sat the children down quickly, "thinkin' it was some of the tarnel brats
that had pestered the show tent ever since Alfred started it." At the
door she came face to face with the angry grandfather.
"You're more to blame than the boy" was all Alfred remained to hear.
Half naked, half dazed--for Alfred feared his grandfather's wrath
greatly--down the big hill the boy fairly flew, through the Jimson
weeds, their prickly pods stinging his bare breast and arms until the
blood flowed. Nor did he slacken his pace until the old coal road was
reached. Then along the dusty road to Krepp's coal bank; into the dark
tunnel penetrating the hill, nor did he stop until so far under ground
that the opening to the coal mine, although large enough to admit a
horse and cart, appeared to the sight as a ring of daylight no larger
than an eye.
Realizing that the white and red clown paint Lin had smeared on his face
would be difficult to explain to the miners should he encounter them,
Alfred endeavored to remove it by washing it with the yellow sulphur
water standing in the cart tracks where it had dropped from the damp
sides of the old mine. He only spread it with the yellow water; his face
presented a sight similar to an Indian's in full war paint.
His fears subsiding, he retraced his steps towards the entrance. The
opening darkened and he could discern a figure standing out against the
sky beyond.
Hastening on he whistled shrilly. The answering whistle he recognized as
that of his treasurer, Win Scott. When they met, Win gave Alfred the
particulars of the wrecking of the tent by Uncle Ned and imparted the
information that all Grandpap's family, with the linen sheets, had gone
home excepting the grandmother, and he had a message requesting that
Alfred come to her at once, with the assurance that he would not be
punished.
The grandmother had frequently interceded in Alfred's behalf and he was
greatly pleased to receive her message. He felt so good over the turn of
affairs that he could scarcely walk up the long hill so weak was he with
laughter over Joe's wall-paper circus clothes, nor did his good humor
forsake him until they approached the spot where the tent, the work of
many weeks, lay on the ground teetotally wrecked.
Win gave Alfred a graphic description of Uncle Ned's wrecking of the
tent, the escape of the audience, of Lin's offering to pay for the
sheets and her subsequent anger. Lin endeavored to appease Uncle Ned's
wrath. "But the more she talked the wuss he raved."
When Alfred entered the kitchen, Lin's face was still red from anger and
weeping. Looking angrily at Alfred, she began:
"Why did ye run? By golly, I'd stood my ground ef they'd all piled on
me. Ef it hadn't been fur grandmother, I'd licked Ned myself."
Alfred explained that if he'd been dressed he'd stayed, but being "mos'
naked he jus' knowed Uncle Ned would pull the tent down caus' he always
wants to tear things up by the roots. I didn't want to be ketched naked
like Joe."
At the thought of Joe's mishap his laughter broke out again. Lin's good
nature began to assert itself. Suppressing her smiles she placed her
fingers on her lips which implied silence. Jerking her head toward the
sitting room door she informed the boy his grandmother was "thar waitin'
fer ye," adding: "Ye needn't be skeered, she's got more religion and
more sense than the whole caboodle of 'em put together. Go on in."
Softly approaching the door leading to the room he heard voices, his
father's among them. He was half inclined to flee again. Timidly rapping
on the door he heard footsteps leaving the room. Lin took him by the arm
and led the boy into the large room.
It was growing dark. His grandmother sat alone. They halted in front of
the gentle lady, Lin addressing Alfred in an encouraging manner, said:
"'Al-f-u-r-d,' tell grandmother the truth. Don't stan' up and lie like
Cousin Charley does, caus' he allus gits ketched up in it."
The boy looking into the kindly face of the quiet old lady felt no fear;
however, his shame was most intense. Drawing the abashed boy nearer to
her, she put her arm about him, softly saying: "I greatly fear you have
been led by those older than yourself to do things you would not have
done had you had proper advisors. I fear you will get into serious
trouble if you do not follow your father's and mother's advice. Now,
Alfred, listen to every word grandmother says to you. You will not be
punished for taking the sheets more than your conscience reproves you.
You are a good boy and everyone loves you. It is only your father's love
for you that influences him to be severe with you at times. Your playful
spirit, your mischievousness leads you into many actions that pain us
all greatly but I am sure you do not intend to be bad. You are not
vicious, only mischievous. Now tell me, Alfred, who prompted you to take
the linen out of the chest?"
"No one. I was all to blame. Lin has sixty-eight cents and I have nearly
three dollars Uncle Joe gave me and I'm going to give it all to Uncle
Ned to pay for any tearing of the sheets and Lin will wash and starch
them. They'll be as good as new."
With this speech the boy broke down completely. Kneeling, he buried his
face in the old lady's lap. She stroked his head gently, and in a tone
more soft and quiet than heretofore, she asked the contrite boy if he
was aware of the reverence in which the family held the linen contained
in the old chest.
The boy assured her that he supposed the old chest and its contents were
cast off or unused articles the same as other goods stored away in the
garret.
When the grandmother informed the boy the family held the contents of
the old chest as almost sacred, that the linen was the last winding
sheets of those of his family who had gone to the great beyond, his
shame brought a flood of tears that nothing the grandmother could say
would stop.
It was the custom that persons who died in those days were covered with
whitest linen and this linen was ever afterwards preserved by the family
as sacred.
The grandmother in gentle tones reminded the boy of loved ones whom he
held in sweetest remembrance, and when he fully realized that the linen
in the old chest had been their last covering the tears of the boy and
the aged woman mingled as he solemnly promised to so conduct himself in
the future that his behavior would never wound her feelings more.
Thereafter the boy always found a loyal defender in the grandmother when
troubles came to him.
"I'll jes be durned ef ol' gran'muther ain't got more sense in a minute
than her son Ned will have ef he lives twict es old es Jehu Adams," said
Lin, referring to the oldest man in the neighborhood. "Why, jes' see
what she hes dun fer that boy. He's a perfec' little angel since she
hauled him over the coals. Bet he'd never teched them sheets ef he'd
knowed they wus fer layin' out dead peepul in. He'd got others somehow,
an' I'd been sort a lazy like 'bout sewin' 'em on the tent ef I'd knowed
what they'd bin used fur. It's no wonder Baggy Allison and Hughey Boggs
got skeered. Durned ef they warn't purty near ghosts, enny how."
"Ef it had been left to gran'muther she'd let the show go on es long es
we had the sheets hung up. They warn't hurtin' nobody. No, by golly,
it's jes' like Ned; he's jes' like his daddy an' the other Baptusses.
They don't hev any fun and they hate to hear a body laugh. Huh, ef it
had been a prayer meetin' or somethin' mournful for the Baptusses'
meetin' house to git money fur, Ned ud never tore down the tent. Durn
him! His heart ain't bigger'n a rat pellet and it's twict es hard. He
don't know nuthin' but to eat an' pray. Let him kum yere fer another
meal of vittles and I'll not cook it fur him; I'll jes' tell Mary and
John so. Why, grandmother's talkin' to him done Alfurd more good than
all the whippin's he ever got in his born life."
"It jes' worries Ned to deth to see a boy, a boy. He gets a heap of
pleasure out of not havin' any fun in life."