Molly Brown's Post-Graduate Days Part 5

Judy came on the scene just then and begged to be enlightened as to the nature of a basket funeral.

"Well, you see, honey, when a member dies at a onseasonable time, or at the beginning of the week an' you can't keep him 'til Sunday, or in harvestin' time when ev'ybody is busy an' the hosses is all workin', why then we jes' bury the corpse quiet like. And then when work gits slack an' there is some chanst to borrow the white folks' teams, we gits together an' ev'ybody takes a big lunch an' we impair to the seminary an' have a preachment over the grave and then a big jamboree." The old woman stopped to chuckle, and such a contagious chuckle she had that you found yourself laughing with her before you knew what the joke was.

"I 'member moughty well when this here same Jim Jourdan, what is to be preached over an' prayed over an' et over to-day, was doin' the same by his second wife Suky Jourdan, an' that was after I had buried my Cyrus an' befo' I took up wif my Albert. It was a hot day in July when fryin'-size chick'ns was jes' about comin' on good an' fat, an' I had a scrumptious lot of victuals good 'nuf fer white folks. Jim looked so ferlorn that I as't him to sit down an' try to worry down some eatin's with us. He was vas'ly pleased to do so, an' look like he couldn' praise my cookin' 'nuf; an' befo' we got to the pie, he up an' ast me to come occupy Suky's place in his cabin. I never said one word, but I got up an' fetched a big pa'm leaf fan out'n the waggin an han' it to him.

'What's this fer, Sis Mary?' sez he, an' sez I, 'You jes' take this here fan an' fan you' secon' 'til she's col', and then come a seekin' yo'

third.'"

The girls laughed until the tears rolled down their cheeks over Aunt Mary's unique courtship. The red-wheeled wagon came up driven by Lewis with Ca'line sitting beside him, dressed within an inch of her life.

Molly got a box for Aunt Mary to step on to climb into the vehicle, but the old woman refused to budge until Lewis took out the back seat and got a rocking chair for her to sit in.

"You know moughty well, you fergitful n.i.g.g.e.r, that I allus goes to baskit funerals a-settin' in a rockin' cheer! Go git the one offen the back po'ch, the red one with the arms to it. Sho as I go a-settin' on a back seat some lazy pusson what can't borrow a team will come a-astin'

fer to ride longside er me, an' I don' want n.o.body a-rumplin' me up, an'

'sides ole Miss never lent this waggin fer all the n.i.g.g.e.rs in Jeff'son County to come a-crowdin' in an ben'in' the springs. Then when we gits to the buryin' groun', I'll have a cheer to sit in an' not have to go squattin' 'roun' on grabe stones."

"Good-by, Aunt Mary, good-by, Ca'line and Lewis."

The girls waved until they were out of sight and then went laughing into the quiet house. It seemed quiet, indeed, after the hub-bub of the day before.

"Everything certainly stayed clean with all of the guests out of doors.

I have never had an entertainment with so little to do when it was over," said Mrs. Brown. "It was a good day for the servants to go away, with the house in such good order and enough left-overs from the wedding supper for three lone women to feed on for several meals. I wonder how your Aunt Clay is getting on with her harvesting? She is so headstrong not to borrow my cutting machine! Why does she insist that flour made from wheat cut with a scythe makes better bread than that cut with modern machinery?"

"She declared yesterday, mother, that she was not going to feed her hands until they got through mowing, if it took them until nightfall.

She says you spoil all darkeys that come near you, and she is going to show them who is boss on her place. Kent infuriated her by telling her she would get herself into trouble if she did not look out; that her wheat was already overripe, and if she attempted to make her hands work over dinner hour they would leave it half cut; but advice to Aunt Clay always sends her in the opposite direction."

"I wish I had not let Sue go over there. Most of those harvesters are strangers from another county, and they might do something desperate if Sarah antagonized them."

"Don't worry, mother, Cyrus Clay is over there, and he is sure to take good care of Sue."

The morning was spent with much gay talk as they packed the presents.

Mrs. Brown was the kind of woman who could enter into the feelings of young people. She seemed to be of their generation and was never shocked or astonished when in their talk she realized that things had changed since her day. She usually made the best of it and put it down to "progress" of some sort. They worked faithfully, and by twelve o'clock had tied up and labeled the last parcel to go in the last barrel.

"Come on, girls, let's have an early lunch and then we can have our much needed and hard-earned rest. A good nap all around will make us feel like ourselves again."

How good that lunch did taste! Molly had been so excited that she could not swallow food the evening before, and Mrs. Brown had been so busy looking after guests that she had forgotten to eat. Judy was the only one who had done justice to the supper, but, having tested it, she was more than willing to try the chicken salad again.

"Never mind washing the dishes; put them in a dish-pan for Ca'line. Get into your kimonos and take a good nap. I am sick for sleep," yawned Mrs.

Brown.

In five minutes they were dead to the world, lost in that midsummer afternoon sleep, the heaviest of all slumber. Everything was perfectly still except the bees, buzzing around the honey-suckle. A venturesome vine had made its way through Molly's window, ever open in summer, and as Judy lay, half asleep, she amused herself by watching a great b.u.mble bee sip honey from the fragrant flowers, and his humming was the last sound that she was conscious of hearing. It seemed like a minute, so heavily had she slept-it was really several hours-when she was awakened with a nightmare that the bee was as big as a horse and his humming was that of a thousand bees.

"Molly, Molly, listen, what is that noise?"

Molly, ever a light sleeper, was out of bed in a trice and at the front window. What a sight met her eyes! Coming up the avenue was a crowd of at least forty negroes, all of them carrying scythes and whetstones, the sweat pouring from their black faces and bared necks and hairy chests, their white teeth flashing and eyeb.a.l.l.s rolling, the sun glinting on the sharp steel of their scythes, menace and fury darkening the face of every man and coming from them a mutter and hum truly like the buzzing of a thousand bees.

Judy, although she was weak with fear, could not help thinking, "That is the noise on the stage that a mob tries to make."

"Aunt Clay's hands have struck work, and to think there is not a man on this place! I believe the blackguards know it! Load your pistol, Judy, and let us go to mother."

Mother was already up, hastily gowned in her wrapper, and opening the front door when the girls came down the stairs. The intrepid lady walked out on the porch with seemingly no more fear than she had had the day before when she came forward to meet the wedding guests. Head erect, eyes steady and piercing, with a voice clear and composed, she said, "Why, boys, you look very tired and hot, and I know you are hungry. Sit down in the shade, on the porch steps and under the trees, and I will see what we can find for you to eat. Molly, go get that b.u.t.termilk out of the dairy. The jar is too heavy for you to lift, so take Buck and let him carry it for you."

Mrs. Brown, with all of her courage, was never more scared in her life.

All the time she was talking she had been looking in the crowd of black faces for a familiar one, and was glad to recognize Buck Jourdan, a good-natured, good-for-nothing nephew of Aunt Mary's. At her command Buck stepped forward, and then a dozen more of the men came to the front, unconsciously separating themselves from the rest. Mrs. Brown saw that they were all negroes belonging in her neighborhood. At her calming words and proffer of food such a change came over the faces of the mob that they hardly seemed to be the same men. Their teeth showed now in grins instead of sinister snarls; they stacked their murderous looking weapons against the paulownia tree and sat down in the shade with expressions as peaceful as the wedding guests themselves had worn.

Molly and the stalwart Buck were back in an incredibly short time with the five-gallon jar of b.u.t.termilk and a tray of gla.s.ses not yet put away from yesterday's feast. Mrs. Brown herself dipped out the smooth, luscious beverage, seeing that each man was plentifully served, while Molly went into the house to bring out all the cooked provisions she could find. Mrs. Brown beckoned the trembling and wondering Judy to her and whispered, "Go ring the farm bell as loud as you can. All danger is over now, I feel sure, but it is well to let the neighbors know that we are in some difficulty; and I fancy I heard a horse trotting on the turnpike, and whoever it is might hasten to us at the sound of a farm bell at this unusual hour."

Judy flew to the great bell, hung on a high post in the back yard. She seized the rope, and then such a ding-dong as pealed forth! The bell was a very heavy bra.s.s one, and at every pull Judy, who was something of a lightweight, leaped into the air, reciting as she jumped, "Curfew shall not ring to-night."

"That is enough, my dear. There is no use in getting help from an adjacent county, and I fancy every one in Jefferson County has heard the bell by this time," said Mrs. Brown, stopping her before she had quite finished the last stanza, which Judy said was like interrupting a good sneeze.

Molly had found all kinds of food for the hungry laborers, who were more sinned against than sinning. They had gone in all good faith to the Clay farm to harvest the wheat according to the antiquated methods of the mistress, with scythes and cradles. When twelve o'clock, the dinner hour everywhere, came, they were told that they could not eat until they had finished. They had worked on until two, and then, infuriated with hunger and goaded on by the thought of the injustice done them, they had struck in a body and gone to the mansion to try to force Mrs. Clay to feed them; but they had been held back at the point of a pistol, by that lady herself. Then they had determined to get food where they could find it.

Mrs. Brown gathered this much from the men as, their hunger a.s.suaged, they talked more connectedly.

"Th' ain't nothin' like b.u.t.termilk to ease yo' heart," said Buck Jasper.

"Mis' Mildred Carmichael kin git mo' outen her n.i.g.g.e.rs fillin' 'em full er b.u.t.termilk than her sister Mis' Sary kin fillin' 'em full er buckshot."

Mrs. Brown was right; she had heard a horse trotting on the turnpike.

The men were wiping their mouths on the backs of their hands and coming up one at a time to thank the gracious lady for her kindness in feeding them, when Ernest and Edwin Green came driving into the avenue.

"Mother! What does this mean? I thought I heard the farm bell when I was about two miles from home, and now I find the yard full of negro men.

Have you had a fire?"

Mrs. Brown explained that Aunt Clay had made things pretty hot for her hands, but so far there had been no other fire. She welcomed Professor Green to Chatsworth and called the grinning Buck to take his suitcase to the cottage porch. Judy wondered at her calm manner and at her saying nothing to Ernest about their being so frightened, not realizing that one hint of the trouble would have sent Ernest off into a rage, when he might have reprimanded the negroes and all the good work of the b.u.t.termilk have been undone. Molly was pale and Professor Green, ever watchful of her, asked Judy to give him an account of the matter, which she did in such a graphic manner that he, too, turned pale to think of the danger those dear ladies had been in. He made himself at home by making himself useful, and helped Molly to carry back into the kitchen the empty gla.s.ses and plates from the feast of the hungry darkeys. She laughingly handed him a great, iron pot in which cabbage had been cooked.

"I am wondering what Aunt Mary will say about her cabbage. Mother sent me into the house to get all available food, when she realized that the hands were simply hungry and that food would be the best thing to quell their rage. Aunt Mary had this huge pot of cabbage on the back of the range; she said in case Lewis jolted down the lunch she was going to eat at the basket funeral she would have it cooked in readiness. The poor dogs will have to go hungry, too, or have some more corn bread cooked for them. I found this big pan full of what we call dog-bread, made from scalded meal and salt and bacon drippings, baked until it is crisp. The men were crazy about it with pot liquor poured over it. You can see for yourself how they licked their platters clean."

"The Saxon word 'lady' means bread-giver, but I think that you and your mother have given it a new significance, and the dictionaries will have to add, 'Dispenser of cabbage and b.u.t.termilk and dog-bread.'"

More wheels, and Aunt Mary and Lewis, with Ca'line much rumpled and asleep on the front seat, her shoes and stockings in her lap and her bare feet propped gracefully on the dashboard, had returned. Aunt Mary was much excited.

"What's all dis doin'? Who was all dem n.i.g.g.e.rs I seen a-streakin' crost the fiel's? Buck Jourdan, ain't that you I see hidin' behine that tree?

I thought I hearn the farm bell as we roun'ed the Pint, but Lewis lowed 'twas over to Miss Sary Clay's. Come here, Buck, an' he'p me out'n dis here waggin. You needn't think you kin hide from me, when I kin see the patch on yo' pants made outen the selfsame goods I gib yo' ma to make some waistes out'n, two years ago come next Febuway." Buck came sheepishily forward to help his old aunt out of the vehicle. "Nex' time you wan' ter hide from me you'd better make out to grow a leettle leaner, or fin' a tree what's made out to grow some wider so's you won't stick out beyant it. What you been doing, and who's been a-mashin' down ole Miss's gra.s.s, and what's my little Miss Molly baby a-doin' workin'

herself to death ag'in to-day?"

Buck endeavored to explain his appearance, and told the story of the strike at Mrs. Clay's and how they were just pa.s.sing through Mrs.

Brown's yard when she had come out and invited them all to dinner. His story was so plausible and his voice so soft and manner so wheedling, that Professor Green, who overheard the conversation, was much amused, and had he not already got the incident from Judy might have believed Buck, so convincing were his words and manner. Not so Aunt Mary, who had partly raised the worthless Buck and knew better than anyone how he could use his silver tongue to lie as well as tell the truth, but preferred the former method.

"Now, look here, you Buck Jourdan, you ain't no count on Gawd's green yearth 'cep to play the banjo. What you been doin' hirin' yo'self out to Miss Sary Clay, jes' like you ain't never know'd that none of our fambly don' never work fer none er hern? Yo' ma befo' you an' yo' gran'ma befo'

her done tried it. Meanin' no disrespect to the rest er the Carmichaels, der's the ole sayin', 'What kin you expec' from a hog but a grunt?' I knows 'thout goin' in my kitchen that Miss Molly done gib all you triflin' n.i.g.g.e.rs my pot er cabbage an' the dog-bread I baked fer those houn's an' bird dogs what ain't no mo' count than you is, 'cept'n they can't play the banjo."

"Buck Jourdan, is that you?" said Ernest, coming forward and interrupting Aunt Mary's tirade. "I am going to get Miss Molly's banjo and you can sit down and give us some music. I haven't heard a good tune since I went West."

Buck, glad to escape any farther tongue lashing from his relative, and always pleased to play and sing, tuned the banjo and began:

"'Hi,' said the 'possum as he shook the 'simmon tree, 'Golly,' said the rabbit; 'you shake 'em all on me.'

An' they went in wif they claws, an' they licked they li'l paws, An' they took whole heaps home to they maws."

After several stanzas sung in a soft melodious voice, Buck, at Molly's request, gave them, to a chanting recitative the following song, composed by a friend of Buck's, and worthy to be incorporated in American folk-lore, so Professor Green laughingly a.s.sured Mrs. Brown.