No reply ever came. Alfred concluded the minstrel field was overcrowded
or managers would not have permitted him to remain idle, especially in
view of the fact that he had offered to give their full performance, for
as low as twenty dollars a month, washing and mending. To one manager he
added a confidential P. S.: "If you are not doing very well I can put
you on to a good thing, a panorama. I'm a panoramist."
Alfred turned his attention to acrobatics. Every spare hour was spent on
the tan bark pile with Lint Dutton, James Todd Livingston, Tom White
and Lash Hyatt. Lint Dutton was determined to learn bare-back riding.
Sneaking his father's horse from the barn, he would endeavor to stand
alone on the back of the animal, Alfred playing clown and Bindley
Livingston ringmaster. Mr. Dutton, after Lint had fallen and nearly
broken his back, locked up the horse. Lint determined to give up
bare-back riding and practice the Indian style of horsemanship. Many are
the persons who had narrow escapes from being run over by Lint as his
horse galloped up and down the back streets of the town, wearing the old
feather head-dress that Node wore in his attempts to fly.
Alfred and Bindley Livingston constructed a trapeze. Completed, it was
suspended to the roof of the cow stable; the boys spent many hours
practicing. The climax of the act, Livingston, the stronger of the two,
hung by his knees on the little horizontal bar above, holding Alfred by
the ankles both hanging head downwards, swinging to and fro, as does the
pendulum of a clock; the limitations of the stable would not permit the
swinging part of the performance. A large locust tree in Bowman's
pasture lot, near Alfred's home, was selected as the best possible place
to try out the double trapeze act.
From a limb of the tree, Hen Ragor, the assistant in the performance,
suspended the trapeze. The news spread that there would be some
wonderful acting in the old pasture lot, Saturday afternoon, always a
holiday to every boy and girl in old Brownsville to go fishing,
swimming, nutting or berrying. On this particular Saturday all the boys
and girls hied themselves to the old pasture lot; nor was the gathering
confined to the younger set; a few of the adults were attracted. They
stood at a distance, viewing the doings; however, not one of them but
had a vantage position.
As the exercises went along, Danny Gummert, George Pee, Denbow Simpson
and Alf McCormick, drew nearer. Caroline Baldwin, seated on the fence,
yelled: "Come in and look out, you can see better." This brought a laugh
and a few of the elders outside of the pasture sauntered a little ways
off only to come nearer as the applause and laughter grew louder.
Alfred had covered himself with all sorts of glory in the numerous
numbers in which he had participated. Caroline Baldwin, who, with her
brothers Clarke and Charley, occupied two entire private boxes, (two
panels of fence), proclaimed during an intermission that Alfred was the
greatest actor in the country; "it was just shameful he was held down
when people all over the country were pantin' to see him do his
showin'."
Lin declared: "Nobody in eny show thet's ben yere in years kin hol' a
candul tu him; they can't tech him. He kin walk ontu his hans better en
some peepul kin on thar feet." Here Lin cast a withering glance at Jack
Beckley that would have sobered one less saturated.
Jack returned Lin's look with a vague grin, saying: "I'm drunk and glad
of it."
Lin gave him a smart push as she ordered him to keep his distance: "I
smell licker on yer close."
"Excuse me--I didn't--no--I hed--spilled eny--of hit." Jack seated
himself on the grass, unheeding the jibes of the little boys and girls.
He was a good natured tippler. In fact, he seemed pleased that his
condition was furnishing fun for the crowd.
No blare of trumpet or beat of drum announced the coming of the
death-defying gladiators; no eloquent orator was there to describe their
deeds. Unheralded, unannounced, without applause or acclamation Alfred
and Bindley emerged from their dressing room, Baldwin's barn. Crossing
the narrow alley, climbing the fence they stood under the shade of the
trapeze tree, the open-mouthed, craned neck cynosure of all eyes,
excepting Jack Beckley's--he had gone to sleep.
The silence that greeted the duo was broken only by sotto voce remarks
of Lin, taking a mental inventory of Alfred, or rather, his costume. He
was attired in a red waist trimmed with beads, white tights, long,
bright green, silk stockings tied with broad yellow ribbon garters, a
big, double bow knot on the outside of each limb; a bright red nubia or
neck comforter wound about his middle; no pumps, shoes or other covering
on his feet.
[Illustration: The Aerialist's Debut]
The silence that greeted the appearance of Alfred was broken. Jack
Beckley lying on the ground too listless and drunk to raise his eyes
higher than Alfred's green stockings, noticed the great expanse of feet
in them, seemingly larger by the spread of the loose stockings. He
remarked to those near him: "Thar's a heap uf thet one doubled down on
the groun'."
Lin spoke as if to herself: "Well, I'll be tee-to-tully durned. Ef thet
harum scarum devul hain't got my nit drawurs on fur tites, an' they fit
him like sassage guts that's too big fur the fillin'. An', an'," Lin
craned her neck towards Alfred, "an', an', by jiggurs, ef he ain't a
wearin' Mary's (the mother's) green silk stockin's she used tu dance an'
frolik in when she was a gal; an' Aunt Lib's worked, beaded Jenny Lind
waist; an' Lizzie's new red nubby woun' roun' his shad belly. Ef he
ain't stole the yaller ribbon offen Sal Whitmire's weddin' bonnit, I'm
blind. Well, jus' wate, jus wate. Ef thar ain't a nuther circus to home
tonite it'll be bekase his daddy ain't well."
Alfred and Bindley bowed low, right and left, kissing their hands to the
audience, then saluting the trapeze in turn. (This pantomime
introduction they had copied from Mathews and Hunting, noted trapezists
in those days.) However, the same salutes have been employed by all
aerialists these many years, therefore Alfred and Bindley should not be
charged with stealing the business of others.
Preparatory to ascending to the trapeze Alfred unwound the nubia from
his waist, casting it on the ground. Lin grabbed it up with a look that
seemed to say: "Thank Gawd, I'll get that anyhow."
Trapeze performers usually ascend to their rigging on a net webbing,
hand over hand sailor fashion. Alfred and Bindley, after their bows and
salutes, climbed up the trunk of the tree to the limb on which their
trapeze was suspended. Coon like, they crawled out on the limb and
lowered themselves to the trapeze.
They kissed their hands to the uplifted faces below. At an agreed signal
they bent backward, beginning with the feats performed by all
trapezists. After every trick the aerialists would come up smiling,
seated on the lower bar, side by side. Turning themselves upside
down--which is the clearest explanation that can be written--they hooked
their feet over the short bar in the small swing above and hung
motionless head downward with folded arms.
As they thus clung one of the yellow ribbons or garters on Alfred's limb
became loosened. The long ribbon fluttered in the air, furling and
unfurling it gracefully descended.
Lin reached up her hands to catch it, muttering through her set teeth:
"I wonder ef he'll shed the rest uf his borryed plumes. I wish he wud.
Stretchin' an' crawlin' about he'll bust 'em sure." And Lin looked at
Alfred's limbs with an anxious expression: "Ef he does you kan't sew 'em
an' I ain't got no yarn thet'll match tu darn 'em."
The last feat was the hanging head downward by Bindley, clasping Alfred
by the ankles. Hen Ragor, with the aid of a rope cast over the lower
bar, pulled the performers, backwards and forwards. When the proper
momentum was gained Alfred released his hand hold on the bar. Henry was
to hold the bar away from the swing of the human pendulum until Alfred
clapped his hands. He was then supposed to slacken the rope in his hands
permitting the bar to swing within the grasp of Alfred.
This was the rehearsed procedure to carry the thrilling feat to the
proper climax. Henry swung the trapeze too forcibly, one end of the rope
slipped out of his hands and pulled loose from the trapeze bar. The
lower bar fouled in the branches of the tree.
Alfred was clapping his hands violently for the trapeze. Henry was
endeavoring to cast the rope over the bar, his efforts resulting in
failure after failure. Finally in his excitement he endeavored to cast
the rope up to Alfred. The pendulum had nearly stopped swinging, and
Alfred was waving his arms, clapping his hands and begging piteously for
the big trapeze swing.
Bindley above was holding on to the boy below. He implored Alfred to
climb up to him. Effort after effort was made by Alfred to do so, but he
hung limp and helpless. He could not command sufficient strength to pull
his body up. He clutched at Lin's unmentionables as he hung head
downward. The earth seemed a long way from him and things on it upside
down.
The boys below were yelling in their excitement, the girls had covered
their faces, the grown folks, who had stood afar, rushed to the scene.
Never will Alfred forget the few moments he was suspended thus, nor will
he fail to remember to his dying day the first message he received from
the man above. There was a splash, an incipient shower of warmish liquid
falling on Alfred's upturned chin. Alfred wiped it off with his hand;
fearing it was blood he scanned it closely. He was greatly relieved when
he discovered that it was tobacco juice. (Bindley always chewed when
acting).
Following the juice came this message: "I can't hold you all day, come
up here or I'll come down there."
Alfred made frantic grabs, clutches and wiggles to climb up, only to
fall back, more helpless. Hen was making an effort to throw the rope to
Alfred. Lin grabbed him. Snatching the rope from him, she shouted:
"Clim' the tree, clim' the tree, loose the swing, ye dam fool." Hen had
started up the tree. A flood of hot juice rained down on Alfred's
upturned chin, flowing into his mouth.
Bindley, with clinched teeth, muttered: "If you get killed it's your own
fault, I can't hold you any longer."
Alfred could see old Mrs. Wagner at an upstairs window waving a book at
Kenney Shoup urging to the rescue. He could hear voices as if in the
distance. He felt a lowering of his body. He felt himself rushing
through space. He made an effort to look up, and then all was blank.
He had a numb feeling in his whole body. "Stan' back, stan' back, gin
him air, wash thet tobakker juice off his face, hit luks like blud,"
were the first words he caught. His eyes were wide open.
"Pour water on his head; Lor' don't pour hit down his bosum, you'll ruin
Lib's worked waist. Open the gate an' we'll carry him hum an' fetch a
doctur, ef thar's no bones broke he may be hurt innerdly."
Alfred raised himself up. He looked up into the faces about him.
"Where's Bindley?" were the first words he uttered.
"Oh, I'm all right," Alfred assured him, "we'll do it all right
tomorrow, won't we Bindley?"
Bindley nodded his head, doubtfully. Alfred attempted to walk but would
have fallen had not helping hands been stretched out, easing him down
until he rested on all fours. He commanded all to release him: "Let me
alone, I'm all right. Come on home with me, Bindley." Painfully, slowly
he started, crawling toward the opened gate, over the spot where he had
collected the ammunition that disbanded the torch-light parade; nor did
he turn aside for anything. Not unlike a four-footed animal he made his
way to the middle of the street. He attempted to arise. Again weakness,
or pain, bore him down. Hands that were willing to assist him before he
crawled through the cow pasture, were now held aloof.
Lin, as she saw him fall in the dust, said: "Well, ef he ain't a sight
on airth. Kum on James Todd, help him hum; an' you boys strip him while
I heat a kittle uf water, till we git him so the doctur kin handle him."
Alfred staggered to his feet again, Bindley and Charley Brashear
supporting him on either side. Thus, the limping procession slowly moved
homeward, the young ones and a few grown-up ones bringing up the rear.
These latter were re-telling the story of the accident for the twentieth
time, usually concluding with: "Bindley is a fool; he had further to
fall than Alfred; he didn't have to fall, he could have just flopped
Alfred over and turned him so he would have lit on his feet and let him
go. No, dam if he didn't hold on 'til he petered out and down they both
come like two bags of salt. Alfred hit full length, it's a wonder it
hadn't busted him. Bindley lit sort of half standing, but he got right
up and limped a little and it was all over with him, but tother one was
knocked colder than a wedge."
Alfred had been feverish, hot. The great amount of water poured over him
to revive him had run down his body, and the many pads in the maiden
Aunt's garment absorbed the water. Alfred complained of feeling cold.
Someone whispered behind him: "That's a bad sign. When that Jones boy
got throwed off a horse, nobody thought he wus hurt much but he turned
cold just afore he died."
Aaron Todd stood at his gate with a cynical smile spreading over the
small expanse of face not hidden by whiskers. He viewed the plight of
the boy with evident pleasure. As Alfred, with the assistance of his
companions, entered the gate leading to his home, Todd elevated his
nose, and turning about as though to enter his house, sneeringly
muttered: "Dad-burn him; he got a dose of his own medicine. Ho, ho, ho;
chickens comes home to roost, don't they?"
Lin led the way, as she commanded. "Kum on in through the kitchen, it
won't du fur ye tu track over the front room carpet."
With bowed head, leaning on his companions, Alfred limped to the kitchen
door. Bindley and Charley disrobed him. Placing a big, tin vessel in the
middle of the kitchen floor, they soused Alfred into it.
There was not a bath room, private or public, in Brownsville in those
days. Wash tubs were used in winter, the creek and river in summer. Once
there came an oldish, high-toned lady from Richmond. She lodged with
Isaac Vance at the Marshall House. He bought a new carpet and other fine
furnishings for her room. It was an unusually warm summer. One day Vance
noticed the colored porter carrying a tub to the lady's room: "Yer, yer,
where yer goin' with thet tub?" demanded the proprietor of the hotel.
"I'se jes carryin' it up tu Mrs. So and So's room," answered the colored
man. "What's she goin' to do with thet tub this hot weather" inquired
the landlord. "I reckon she's gwine to wash herself; she sed she's gwine
to take a bath, I ges dat's washin' herself." "Huh!" snorted Vance, "not
in this house in this weather. Ef it wus winter I wouldn't mind it, but
I won't have her floppin' aroun' up thar like a dam ole goose, splashin'
water all over thet new carpet. Take thet tub back to the cellar, an'
you go up an' tell her ef she needs a wash to go to the crik like I do."
Alfred was put to bed. The doctor, after careful examination, declared
no bones were broken, there were bad bruises and might be internal
injuries. However, it would require several days to fully determine,
meanwhile the patient must be kept very quiet.
Lin advised the doctor: "He lit mos' settin'; ef he'd hed a littul
further tu fall he'd lit flat on his settin' down attitudes."
A bottle of liniment was ordered, and Alfred rubbed often with the
preparation. John Barnhardt and Cousin Charley volunteered to sit up
with Alfred the first night. Alfred regained his good humor, laughed and
jested over the termination of the trapeze act until all agreed he was
in no danger whatever. "Why, he's jes carryin' on same es he allus does;
hit nevur fazed him," Lin assured the mother.
However, when the doctor called the following morning and Lin
confidentially advised him that the boy was all right and he needn't lay
abed another minute, the doctor dissented, insisting that the patient
remain quiet, at least another twenty-four hours.
Jim Mann agreed to sit up the next night. The father requested Jim to
get someone to sit up with him for company. It was getting late, Lin was
dozing, Alfred urging her to go to bed. There was a knock on the door;
both felt sure it was Jim. Lin opened the door; there stood Jack Beckley
and in about the same condition as the day before.
Lin hesitated to admit him. Jack explained that Jim had invited him to
sit up with Alfred. He said: "Jim and Dave Adams had a quarrel and Jim
threw a pot of white paint on Adams, covering him from head to foot. Jim
don't know whether he will be arrested or not; he does not want to be
arrested and locked up at night when he can't give bail, so he sent me
to look after Alfred."
Lin, when Jack's attention was elsewhere, whispered to Alfred: "Don't
close a eye tunite, sleep tumorrer; ye can't tell what a whusky drinkin'
man'll du, thar's no dependence in 'em."
Jack was a most attentive nurse, in the early hours of the night at
least. He hovered over the bed at the slightest move of the patient. He
insisted on using the liniment almost constantly, declaring he would rub
all the soreness out of Alfred's bruises before morning. Alfred, half
asleep, remembered Jack saying something about looking for more
liniment.
Jack left the house ere any of the family arose. Alfred was loud in his
praise of Jack's kindness and declared him the best hand in the sick
room he had ever seen. The mother was sorry he went off without
breakfast. The father said he would hand him a piece of money when he
met him.
Alfred insisted that he had entirely recovered; Jack had rubbed all the
soreness out of his hurts and he would not lie longer in bed. The father
and mother commanded he lie until the doctor assured them danger had
passed. The doctor called, and Alfred assured him he was all well and
wanted to get up and go to work that very day. The doctor said: "Well,
you ought to know how you feel. Have you any soreness in your joints or
muscles?"
"No, sir; Jack Beckley rubbed all the soreness out of me last night."
"Turn over, let me see if there is any evidence of bruises." The doctor
seemed deeply interested. Alfred could not see his face but he seemed to
be critically examining him. He would tap various places on the bruised
part of Alfred's anatomy. "Does that hurt? Does that pain you?" would be
the question after each tap, to which Alfred would invariably answer:
"No, sir; no, sir."
After studying a few moments the doctor passed into another part of the
house; he was evidently conferring with the mother. Returning he again
took Alfred's temperature, examining the tongue even more carefully than
previously. The doctor remarked, as if to himself: "It's curious. Did
you sleep; have you no pain?" Again he turned Alfred over and gazed long
at the parts of the body supposed to be bruised.
Alfred began to get interested: "What's the matter, Doc; have you found
any bones broken?"
"No, no, nothing of that kind. But the bruises; have you no soreness."
Alfred assured him that he had not.
"I will be back in an hour," was the conclusion of the doctor's
instructions to Lin.
When Lin entered the room Alfred's first anxious query was: "What's the
matter with the doctor, he wants to make you sick whether you are or
not. I'm going to get out of this bed this day; I'll not lay here any
longer."
Here the mother entered cautioning Alfred to remain entirely quiet. "I'm
going over to see grandmother; she is not well. I will bring your father
home with me; the doctor will return by that time and we will know what
to do for you."
Later Mrs. Wagner came, a good-natured, motherly, old German woman, a
near neighbor. Among her neighbors, she was esteemed as one whose
knowledge was invaluable in the sick room. She insisted upon examining
Alfred's condition. Although he insisted he was all right the old lady
was permitted to examine his bruises. She left the room, returning soon
with a large, hot poultice, applying it. Alfred grew rapidly worse.
The doctor soon returned. At every pressure of his fingers he found a
new sore spot. "Does that hurt?" "Yes, sir," would be the answer from
Alfred. Warm teas were administered, cold towels were placed on his
head, and hot poultices on other parts of his anatomy. Alfred feebly
acknowledged he was feeling very badly.
The father and mother came and with them the grandmother. When alone,
the father advised Alfred that his body was a solid mass of bruises,
that the flesh had turned black and blue. Alfred heard Lin whisper
something about "mortification hed set in an' the doctor feared blood
pizen."
The family were at dinner--Alfred had been placed upon a diet of squab
broth, none of the flesh, just the broth--Alfred quietly arose and, with
the aid of the big looking glass, (mirrors had not been discovered as
yet, in Brownsville), and a contortion feat such as he had never
attempted previously, he scanned the bruised parts. Lin's worst fears
seemed confirmed; all his person reflected in the looking glass was
black as ink, as he expressed it.
Good Mrs. Wagner, with the doctor's permission, continued applying the
hot poultices. Alfred's misery increased near night when the nurses
advised him to calm himself as the bruised blood was rapidly
disappearing. Alfred urged the good woman on by declaring the poultices
were getting cold, although they had been applied but a moment or so.
Uncle Ned came to sit up. He greatly increased Alfred's nervousness by
his attempts at consolation. He showed Alfred the error of his ways,
assuring him he might have been killed outright and that his foolish
ambitions to become an actor would probably lay him up for weeks, that
it would cost his father a lot of money and possibly leave Alfred with
his health impaired for a year to come.
Alfred, to get relief, implored the uncle to bring in more poultices. He
kept the good uncle so busy his lecture was greatly interrupted.
In answer to the doctor's first question: "How do you feel this
morning?" Alfred replied: "Very weak; I had no sleep last night."
The doctor examined the patient carefully. "Does that hurt?" "No, sir,"
answered the sufferer. "Well, you're coming around all right; the blood
is circulating and the bruises are much better, your flesh is assuming
its natural color."
"Doctor, I think that liniment had something to do with my trouble,
don't you? It nearly burned me up and the turpentine in it smelled so I
could hardly stand it. I told Jack when he was rubbing me it felt like
he was raising blisters."
The doctor interrupted the patient by hastily correcting him as to there
being any turpentine in the liniment.
"I know there was, I've worked with turpentine too long not to know the
smell of it," persisted Alfred.
Lin also declared the whole house smelled so of turpentine she was
compelled to change the bed clothes. "Ye kan't tell what a man thet
drinks licker like water mought take intu his hed to rub ontu a body. I
wanted tu hist him when he fust kum, but no, Jim Mann sent him an' he
mus' stay."
"Where's that bottle of liniment I sent here," demanded the doctor.
Lin opened the closet door and handed out two bottles. One of them
contained a few drops of an amber colored fluid. "This is the lotion I
prescribed," said the doctor, and he poured a few drops of the liquid in
the hollow of his hand. Rubbing his hands briskly he held both palms
over his nostrils. Sniffing it he drew his hands back, his eyes
watering. "There's no turpentine in that mixture." He held his hands
over Lin's nostrils and triumphantly asked if she could detect the odor
of turpentine. Lin admitted that it had no scent of turpentine. The
doctor held his hands over Alfred's face: "Where's your turpentine?
You're a good judge of turpentine and you work in it every day and
cannot detect the odor of it from alcohol, wintergreen and chloroform."
The doctor laughed as he seldom laughed.
Calling the mother the doctor laughingly poked a great deal of fun at
Lin: "I wouldn't want Alfred or Lin to buy turpentine for me." He kept
the fun going by reminding Alfred that Jeffries (the father's
competitor) was probably correct when he spread the report that the
father used benzine in his paint instead of turpentine. This was a
center shot at Alfred. The report had been circulated that his father
used benzine to mix his paint with. During the war the price of
turpentine was almost prohibitive and benzine was used by many painters.
It was not a good substitute and it was a common thing for one
contractor to injure another by circulating the report that his
competitor used benzine.
Raising himself up in bed Alfred stoutly reiterated that it was
turpentine he smelled in the liniment.
Lin said: "Durned ef ye kin fool me in the smell uf enything; my snoot
nevur lies. I not only smelt hit but ye kud taste hit."
The mother added her observations to Alfred's and Lin's insisting the
room smelled as strongly of turpentine as though it had just been
painted. "I was compelled to open the windows," she said.
The doctor could not combat the new evidence, it was too direct. "Well,
if there was turpentine rubbed on this boy, Jack Beckley brought it
here. Have you any turpentine in the house he could have gotten at?"
The mother and Lin both declared there was not a drop of turpentine in
the house.
The doctor left with orders to continue the poultices.
Bindley called with his coat pockets full of green apples. Emptying the
unmatured fruit on the bed, he cautioned Alfred to eat salt on them and
they wouldn't hurt him. Bindley was insulted when the green apples were
thrown out by Lin, with the remark: "Huh! He's got enough pizen in his
sistum without loadin' him up with worms."
The turpentine story was detailed to the father with the benzine
reflection, and he was hot under the collar. He sent Bindley forthwith
to locate Jack Beckley and bring him to the house: "But don't say one
word to him about what we want him for."
The report had spread that Alfred was in a serious condition. Many were
the callers and many the comments on the accident. Mrs. Todd said:
"Well, I can't understand why it was that the Livingston boy, who was
the higher up and fell the farthest, escaped injury, and Alfred was hurt
so badly. They say Livingston could have saved himself the fall. They
say he risked his life to save Alfred. I can't just understand how
Alfred got hurt so badly; it seems like a visitation of Providence; you
know Alfred has been so forward in his devilment with other folks."
Lin flared up as she answered: "An' I kan't fur the life uf me figger
out how Bindley fell so much higher down then Alfurd an' didn't break
his back. But judgin' by the terbakker juce he spilled on Alfurd afore
he fell he mus' dropped his quid an' then fell on hit an' thet broke his
fall."
There is no denying the fact that the accident made Bindley the hero and
Alfred the goat. Peter Hunt said: "Bindley was prompted by that sense of
duty one boy feels toward another. He held Alfred until he could hold no
longer, and when strength gave out, he fell with Alfred. It was an act
of heroism."
Peter said there were two bodies falling with equal velocity; if one had
fallen on top of the other the concussion would not have been great.
Johnny Tunstall said of Alfred: "Huh! The munkey devil; ye kudn't kill
him with a hax."
George Fee expressed his sorrow thusly: "It's a great pity they fell; I
tole Susan so, for when they wus up in them swings they wus nearer
Heavun un they'll ever git again."
Aaron Todd pushed his whiskers over the garden fence, inquiring of Lin
as to Alfred's condition: "He's purty badly hurt I fear," he began, and,
with a tone that betokened anything but sympathy: "Hurt internally I
reckon. He'll hardly pull through ef he hes blood pizening; I never
knowed anybody thet hed hit internally thet evur got up again."
"Oh, my!" and Lin pretended to be greatly surprised, "Oh, my, Alfurd's
all right. Why he's up an' about. Ef you're goin' out on a torch-lite
percession soon ye'll hear from him." Todd's face clouded, pulling his
whiskers over the fence into his own yard, muttered: "The luck of sum
peepul beats hell."
The doctor and Jack arrived. "What kind of liniment did you apply to
Alfred's bruises?" sternly demanded the doctor.
"I dunno," quietly answered Jack, "your liniment I reckon."
[Illustration: "And Thar's the Very Bottle"]
"Was there turpentine in the liniment you used?" continued the doctor,
not regarding Jack's reply.
"Well I should say; hit nearly burnt my han' off, hit tuk all the skin
off twixt the fingers; my han' wus jus' like when I hed the itch. I've
been greasin' hit with hog's lard an' elder bark ever since," and Jack
pulled his hand out of his pocket and held it up to the doctor's view.
The doctor bent over the hand; it was discolored with small blackish
spots. "Where did you get the liniment; did you bring it with you?" more
sternly demanded the doctor.
"No, sir, I didn't bring hit with me," somewhat impudently answered
Jack, "I'm no hopathekary; I got the liniment right thar," pointing to
the closet door, "an' thar's the very bottle," continued Jack as he
opened the closet door.
Taking the large bottle off the shelf with both hands he passed it to
the doctor who shook and uncorked it. As he was in the act of smelling
it the father entered the room. Turning toward him the doctor, with his
nose still at the neck of the bottle, inquired: "John, where did you get
this stuff, this liniment?"
"Liniment?" the father repeated, as he reached for the bottle.
"Liniment? Why, doc, that's not liniment. Who said it was? Why, I've
been experimenting with that stuff nearly a year. That's not liniment,
thet's walnut stain; I can stain anything to resemble walnut. We--"
The remainder of the father's recommendation was lost in the laugh.
Alfred kicked the bedclothes over the headboard; the women-folks ran,
the doctor did not remain to see Jack remove the mortification from
Alfred's body.
When Jack had scrubbed, rinsed and dried the supposedly affected portion
of Alfred's anatomy, he assured him the black and blue color had been
supplanted by a redness of the skin that was remarkable. "Hit's es red
es scarlet," was Jack's comparison.
"Well for Heavens' sake, Jack, keep it quiet or they'll be doctoring me
for scarlet fever," cautioned Alfred.
As the doctor walked up the path toward the front gate Lin shouted after
him: "Doctur, ye kin tell ole Jeffres thet John uses turpentine in his
liniment ef he don't in his paints."