Mothering on Perilous Part 9

_Sat.u.r.day Night._

Cleo and Howard put the lovely red paper on our sitting-room to-day,--when the boys and I came in from the garden it was all done, and a shout of delight went up. Of course they have never seen anything so beautiful.

I had another surprise for them. Prettiest of all my new dresses is a cardinal crepe de chine, exactly matching the wall-paper. I put it on for supper to-night, getting to the dining-room a little late. There was much excitement at our table as I entered, and Jason created a sensation by calling out, in his shrill voice, "Oh, yander comes my red stick of candy!" Nucky said not a word; but the pride in his eyes was sufficient.

All during the meal, the boys vied with one another in pa.s.sing me things, and in saying "yes ma'am" and "no ma'am"; and I saw them glancing around at other tables to observe the effect of my grand costume.

Who, seeing me sit here before our cottage fire this evening, clothed in the color of life and joy, with my happy and cheerful family close around, would ever believe me to be the same woman who arrived here something more than two months ago, with a heart even more dark and desolate than her garb of woe? Truly, the ways and goodness of G.o.d are past imagining.

_Thursday Night._

That the fraternal affection of the little Salyers is sound at the core (much evidence to the contrary notwithstanding) was proved beyond doubt by an occurrence last night. Hen is by nature deliberate, and is especially so about washing his feet and getting undressed at night, not yet having become reconciled in his mind to either process. He always retires after Keats, and, now the nights are cooler, first tries to root Keats out of his warm place, and, failing in that, doubles up and plants his cold feet in the middle of Keats's back. The long-suffering Keats rebels, and then follow howls, yells and a pitched battle, with shrill cries for me from Geordie Yonts, the third boy in the bed. When I arrive, the covers are on the floor, and the brothers fighting all over their own bed, the other bed and boys, and the entire room, and calling down horrible imprecations upon each other. In vain I have forbidden the use of the shocking language,--neither threats nor punishments have prevailed. Last night, after a particularly bad time, I called them into my room, explained to them the full meaning of the words they were using, and asked if either could possibly hate his brother enough to wish to consign him to eternal torment. They made no answer, but went off looking thoughtful. To-night when shrieks and howls announced the usual battle, and I hurried to the scene, the Salyers were pounding each other as mercilessly as ever, but this time, to my unspeakable relief, they were calling out furiously, "G.o.d _help_ you!" "G.o.d _help_ you!",--a decided change for the better, and, I thought, a most timely pet.i.tion!

In their sane moments now, they talk of nothing but Cousin Emmeline's funeral occasion and the visit home; and it is impossible for them to decide whom they most desire to see,--whether Nervesty, or Sammy, or Ponto, or the steers Buck and Brandy; while their longing extends also to the other children, and to Charlie the "flea-bit" nag, Ole Suke, the "pied" cow, Reddy the heifer, and the black sow, Julia.

_Sunday Evening._

On our way to the "church-house" this morning, I noticed that Iry wore the long, ample homespun trousers in which he arrived. "Where are the Sunday breeches I gave you?" I inquired.

"There they air," he said, pointing to Geordie's fat legs, which seemed about to burst out of a pair of dark blue short trousers.

"Iry he just pestered me into trading with him," was Geordie's explanation, "he said he were bound to have that gold ring I got out of a prize box last week. Show it to her, Iry."

Iry put forth a small, dingy hand, adorned with a large, elaborate bra.s.s ring.

"But you can see that wasn't a fair trade," I said indignantly to Geordie.

"I knowed it weren't,--I knowed that ring were worth five times them breeches, and I'd never see its like ag'in. But I felt sorry for him, he wanted it so bad."

"No, I mean just the other way," I said sharply, "you paid a nickel for that prize-box, didn't you?"

"Yes'm."

"And there was candy in it?"

"A little-grain."

"And you ate it?"

"What there were of it."

"And now you want to trade him the ring, which cannot be worth more than two cents, for his Sunday breeches."

The "born trader" looked at me pityingly. "Miss Loring," he said, "womenfolks haint got no understanding of prize-boxes. Sometimes you pay your nickel down and don't git ary thing in 'em; and then ag'in there's jewelries n.o.body can't tell _what_ they worth, they so fine. Thaint nary ring like that ever been seed in these parts. Iry Atkins's got the onliest ring like it on Perilous, or I reckon in Kent County, or maybe in Kentucky! What's breeches to that?"

To this master argument, the fact that the ring would not keep Iry's legs warm in winter seemed a puerile answer; still, with cold weather coming on, and clothing scarce as hens' teeth, I was compelled to break up the trade, and to forbid Geordie's making any more.

In the afternoon we went up Perilous, persimmon and buckeye hunting, and later, after filling their shirt-fronts with the shiny ammunition, the boys lined up on opposite sides of the creek and had a buckeye-battle.

After supper I began reading the Story of Odysseus. When we came to the place where the hero makes his escape from the cave of Polyphemus, Nucky interrupted to tell the tale he promised while we were on Trigger, of Blant's escape last spring, when for the first and only time he was arrested by officers. It was the day when he was "laywayed" by Elhannon, Todd and Dalt, and had killed one, and almost killed the other two. The sheriff happened to be on Powderhorn, near the mouth of Trigger, at the time, received the news at once, and reached the Marrs home within an hour after the occurrence. Blant, not dreaming of so prompt an attempt at arrest, was sitting before the fire cleaning his forty-five; and before he knew it, the sheriff stepped between him and his ammunition.

Quiet surrender was the only possible thing. The sheriff and deputy started with him to the jail here in our village; but, being overtaken by darkness on the way, were obliged to stop overnight at a wayside house. Blant went to bed, handcuffed, between the sheriff and deputy, each of whom retired with a loaded revolver in his hand. In the morning the prisoner was gone, the blanket that had covered the three swung from the window, and the two revolvers were found on the ground beneath, placed neatly side by side.

"Thaint no men or no prison nowhere Blant couldn't git away from if he was a mind to," said Nucky; "he wouldn't fool around and see his friends et up like Odysseus."

The character of Odysseus also brought out some family history from Geordie and Absalom. It appears that their grandfather, Old George Yonts, was a man noted in several ways, as a hard-sh.e.l.l preacher, as a wonderful nag-trader, and, like Odysseus, as a man of craft and guile in wars. Warring factions would come to him for advice; and his stratagems, when carried out, were brilliantly successful. The boys, with much pride, told some awful instances. They also said that all of his thirteen sons were "mean men," their own father having met death at too early an age to become as distinguished as the other twelve. As I listened, I marvelled, not that the "born trader's" morality is a little oblique, but that he has any at all.

_Wednesday._

To-day I saw Philip hold out a handful of chestnuts to Taulbee, his bosom friend, with the words, "Don't take more'n five,--you're owing me now. You haint gone treat for allus!" Perfect candor is evidently the sure, if rocky, foundation of their relationship.

_Sat.u.r.day Night._

More family history as we were roasting sweet-potatoes in the hot ashes under our fire to-night. Iry said he could recollect roasting them while the men made his maw's coffin. "I never knowed no better," he said; "I weren't but three, and thought she was laying there asleep. I wondered what them men was a-hammering at outside. When I seed 'em take her off in it, I knowed."

"She were the best step-maw ever I had," remarked Joab, feelingly.

"How many have you had?" I inquired.

"Oh, paw he's had about five women," he mused. "My maw first, and then Iry's, and there's three sence. Serildy Byng, his next-to-last, was a middling civil woman; but she never stayed long. This last one is just fifteen, and haint got no manners. I have to fight her most every day, she picks on me'n Iry so. Paw he has a sorry time learning her to behave."

"I have heared something about your paw being right smart of a mean man," said Philip.

"Bet he can't hold a candle to Blant," put in Nucky, jealously.

"Maybe he can't, and maybe he can," drawled Joab, provokingly.

"n.o.body haint as quick on the trigger as Blant," declared Nucky; "I'll bet n.o.body haint kilt and wounded more inside a few months than him, or would have been in jail more times if the officers could have kotch him and helt him."

"Jail," murmured Joab, contemptuously, "jail haint nothing! My paw's spent two year at Frankfort!"

The boys all exclaimed in admiration. "Gee-oh," said Philip, with new respect, "I never knowed he'd been penitentiaried."

"How many has he kilt?" inquired Nucky, skeptically.

"Oh, no more'n he had to," drawled Joab.

"I heared something about his killing off a few Lusks," said Taulbee.

"Yes, a few," admitted Joab; "Serildy Byng, that next-to-last of his, she got to talking some to a couple of the Lusks, and paw got wind of it, and kotch 'em a-hanging around one day. But he never kilt but one dead; and soon as t'other got able to talk, he sot all the Lusks ag'in paw,--there was nine on his track, laywaying and ambushing. At last one day they all rid up behind him over on the head of Rakeshin. He seed a turn in the road ahead, where there was a big rock. Every time they'd shoot, he'd jump like he was. .h.i.t; and just as he got to the rock, he spraddled out flat on his nag, like he was dead. That was the last they seed, and they come up a-whooping, thinking they had him kilt. And about that time six of 'em got bullets in 'em, and three drapped dead; for paw had clim up on the rock and was a-laying for 'em. Time the rest of the Lusks got up from their wounds, they allowed paw was a mean enough man to leave alone."

Nucky was silenced. The impressive pause that followed was at last broken by Philip. "What did he do to Serildy?" he asked.

"Oh, nothing, but shoot off a piece of her jaw and a little-grain of her scalp."

Philip meditated again. "I expect that's the reason Serildy left your paw, haint it? Women's so quare."