CHAPTER VI
THE ENEMY, THE ROD AND THE STAFF
And the days that followed the Senator's prohibition rally atSweetbriar were those of carnival for jocund spring all up and downProvidence Road and out over the Valley. Rugged old Harpeth began tobe crowned with wreaths of tender green and pink which trailed downits sides in garlands that spread themselves out over meadow and farmaway beyond the river bend. Overnight, rows of jonquils in Mrs.Poteet's straggling little garden lifted up golden candlestick headsto be decapitated at an early hour and transported in tight littlebunches in dirty little fists to those of the neighbors whose springflowers had failed to open at such an early date. In spite of whatseemed an open neglect, the Poteet flowers were always more prolificand advanced than any others along the Road, much to the pride of theequally prolific and spring-blooming Mrs. Poteet. And in a spirit ofnature's accord the white poet's narcissus showed starry flowers tothe early sun in the greatest abundance along the Poteet fence thatbordered on the Rucker yard. They peeped through the pickets, and whoknows what challenge they flung to the poetic soul of Mr. Caleb Ruckeras he sat on the side porch with his stockinged feet up on a chair andhis nose tilted to an angle of ecstatic inhalation?
Down at the Plunketts the early wistaria vine that garlanded the frontporch hung thick with long purple clusters which dropped continuallylittle bouquets of single blossoms with perfect impartiality on thehead of widow and maid, as the compromise of entertaining both youngBob and Mr. Crabtree at the same time was carried out by Louisa Helen.And often with the most absolute unconsciousness the demure littlewidow allowed herself to be drawn by the wily Mr. Crabtree into themystic circle of three, which was instantly on her appearancedissolved into clumps of two. And if the prodigal vine showeredblessings down upon a pair of clasped hands hid beside Louisa Helen'sfluffy pink muslin skirts nobody was the wiser, except perhaps Mr.Crabtree.
And perched on the side of the hill the Briars found itself in aperfect avalanche of blossoms. The snowballs hung white and heavy fromlong branches, and gorgeous lilac boughs bent and swayed in the wind.A clump of bridal wreath by the front gate was a great white driftagainst the new green of a crimson-starred burning bush, while over itall trailed the perfume-laden honeysuckle which bowered the frontporch, decorated trellis and trees and finally flung its blossoms downthe hill to well-nigh cloister Rose Mary's milk-house.
One balmy afternoon Everett brushed aside a spray of the pink andwhite blossoms and stood in the stone doorway with his prospectingkit in his hands. Rose Mary lifted quick welcoming eyes to his andwent on with her work with bowl and paddle. Everett had some timesince got to the point where it was well-nigh impossible for him tolook directly into Rose Mary's deep eyes, quaff a draft of thetenderness that he always found offered him and keep equanimity enoughto go on with the affairs in hand. What business had a woman's eyes tobe so filled with a young child's innocence, a violet's shyness, apassion of fostering gentleness, mirth that ripples like the surfaceof the crystal pools, and--could it be dawning--love? Everett had beenin a state of uncertainty and misery so abject that it hid itselfunder an unusually casual manner that had for weeks kept Rose Maryfrom suspecting to the least degree the condition of his mind. Thereis a place along the way in the pilgrimage to the altar of Love, whenthe god takes on an awe-inspiring phase which makes a man hide hiseyes in his hands with fear of the most abject. At such times with herlamp of faith a woman goes on ahead and lights the way for both, butwhile Rose Mary's flame burned strongly, her unconsciousness wasprofound.
"I'm so glad you came," she said with the usual rose signal to him inher cheeks. "I've been wondering where you were and just a little bituneasy about you. Mr. Newsome has been here and wants to see you. Hestayed to dinner and waited for you for two hours. Stonie and Tobe andall the others looked for you. I know you are hungry. Will you have adrink of milk before I go with you to get your dinner I saved?"
"What did the Honorable Gid want?" asked Everett, and there was astrange excitement in his eyes as he laid his hand quickly on a small,irregular bundle of stones that bulged out of his kit. His voice had asharp ring in it as he asked his question.
"Oh, I think he just wanted to see you because he likes you,"answered Rose Mary with one of her lifted glances and quick smiles. "Abody can take their own liking for two other people and use it as agood strong rope just to pull them together sometimes. I'm awfullyfond of Mr. Newsome--and you," she added as she came over from one ofthe crocks with Peter Rucker's blue cup brimming with ice cold creamin her hand and offered it to Everett.
Instead of taking the cup from her Everett clasped his fingers aroundher slender wrist in the fashion of young Petie and thus with her handraised the cup to his lips. And as his eyes looked down over its bluerim into hers the excitement in them died down, first into a very deeptenderness that changed slowly into a quiet determination which seemedto be pouring a promise and a vow into her very soul. Something in thestrange look made Rose Mary's hand tremble as he finished the lastdrop in the cup, and again her lovely, always-ready rose flushed upunder her long lowered lashes. "Is it good and cold?" she asked witha little smile as she turned away with the cup.
"Yes," answered Everett quietly, "it's all to the good and the milkto the cold."
"Is that a compliment to me and the milk, too?" laughed Rose Mary fromover by the table as she again took up her butter-paddle. "It's niceto find things as is expected of them, women good and milk cold, isn'tit?" she queried teasingly.
"Yes," answered Everett from across the table.
"And any way a woman must be a comfort to folks, just as a rose mustsmell sweet, because they're both born for that," continued Rose Maryas she lifted a huge pat of the butter on to a blue saucer. "Men aresometimes a comfort, too--and sweet," she added with a roguish glanceat him over the butter flower she was making.
"No, Rose Mary, men are just thorns, cruel and slashing--but sometimesthey protect the rose," answered Everett in his most cynical tone ofvoice, though the excitement again flamed up in his dark eyes andagain his hand closed over the kit at his side. "Do you know what Ithink I'll do?" he added. "I think I'll take old Gray and jog over toBoliver for a while. I'll see the Senator, and I want to get a wirethrough to the firm in New York if I can. I'll eat both the dinner andsupper you have saved when I come back, though it may be late before Iget my telegram. Will you be still awake, do you think?"
"I may not be awake, for Stonie got me up so awfully early to help himand Uncle Tucker grease those foolish little turkeys' heads to keepoff the dew gaps, but I'll go to sleep on the settee in the hall, andyou can just shake me up to give you your supper."
"I'll do nothing of the kind, you foolish child," answered Everett."Go to bed and--but a woman can't manage her dreams, can she?"
"Oh, dreams are only little day thoughts that get out of the coop andrun around lost in the dark," answered Rose Mary, with a laugh. "I'vegot a little bronze-top turkey dream that is yours," she added.
"Is it one of the foolish flock?" Everett called back from the middleof the plank across the spring stream, and without waiting for hisanswer he strode down the Road.
And the smile that answered his sally had scarcely faded off RoseMary's face when again a shadow fell across the plank and in a momentMr. Crabtree stood in the doorway. Across the way the store wasdeserted and from the chair he drew just outside the door he could seeif any shoppers should approach from either direction.
"Well, Miss Rose Mary, I thought as how I'd drop over and see if youhad any buttermilk left in that trough you are fattening Mr. Mark at,for the fair in the fall," he said with a twinkle in his merry littleblue eyes. And Rose Mary laughed with appreciation at his oftenrepeated little joke as she handed him a tall glassful of the desiredbeverage.
"I'm afraid Stonie will get the blue ribbon from over his head if hekeeps on drinking so much milk. Did you ever see anybody grow like myboy does?" asked Rose Mary with the most manifest pride in her voiceand eyes.
"I never
did," answered Mr. Crabtree heartily. "And that jest remindsme to tell you that a letter come from Todd last night a-telling meand Granny Satterwhite about the third girl baby borned out to hishouse in Colorado City. Looked like they was much disappointed. Ikinder give Todd a punch in the ribs about how fine a boy GeneralStonewall Jackson have grown to be. I never did hold with a womana-giving away her child, though she couldn't have done the part you doby Stonie by a long sight."
"Oh, what would I have done without Stonie, Mr. Crabtree!" exclaimedRose Mary with a deep sadness coming into her lovely eyes. "You knowhow it was!" she added softly, claiming his sympathy with a littlegesture of her hand.
"Yes, I do know," answered the store-keeper, his big heart givinginstant response to the little cry. "And on him you've done given alesson in child raising to the whole of Sweetbriar. They ain't a childon the Road, girl or boy, that ain't being sorter patterned after theGeneral by they mothers. And the way the women are set on him is plumbfunny. Now Mis' Plunkett there, she's got a little tin bucket jest tohold cakes for nobody but Stonie Jackson, which he distributes to therest, fair and impartial. I kinder wisht Mis' Plunkett would be alittle more free with--with--" And the infatuated old bachelor laughedsheepishly at Rose Mary across her butter-bowl.
"When a woman bakes little crisp cakes of affection in her heart, andthe man she wants to have ask her for them don't, what must she do?"asked Rose Mary with a little laugh that nevertheless held a slightnote of genuine inquiry in it.
"Just raise the cover of the bucket and let him get a whiff," answeredMr. Crabtree, shaking with amusement. "'Tain't no use to offer a manno kind of young lollypop when he have got his mouth fixed on a niceold-fashioned pound-cake woman," he added in a ruthful tone of voiceas he and Rose Mary both laughed over the trying plight in which hefound his misguided love affairs. "There comes that curly apple puffnow. Howdy, Louisa Helen; come across the plank and I'll give you thischair if I have to."
"I don't wanter make you creak your joints," answered Louisa Helenwith a pert little toss of her curly head as she passed him and stoodby Rose Mary's table. "Miss Rose Mary, I wanter to show you thisSunday waist I've done made Maw and get you to persuade her some aboutit for me. I put this little white ruffle in the neck and sleeves anda bunch of it down here under her chin, and now she says I've got totake it right off. Paw's been dead five years, and I've most forgothow he looked. Oughtn't she let it stay?"
"I think it looks lovely," answered Rose Mary, eying the waist withenthusiasm. "I'll come down to see your mother and beg her to let itstay as soon as I get the butter worked. Didn't she look sweet withthat piece of purple lilac I put in her hair the other night? Did shelet that stay?"
"Yes, she did until Mr. Crabtree noticed it, and then she threw itaway. Wasn't he silly?" asked Louisa Helen with a teasing giggle atthe blushing bachelor.
"It shure was foolish of me to say one word," he admitted with alaugh. "But I tell you girls what I'll do if you back Mis' Plunkettinto that plum pretty garment with its white tags. I'll go over toBoliver and bring you both two pounds of mixed peppermint andchocolate candy with a ribbon tied around both boxes, and maybe somepretty strings of beads, too. Is it a bargain?" And Rose Mary smiledappreciatively as Louisa Helen gave an eager assent.
At this juncture a team driven down the Road had stopped in front ofthe store, and from under the wide straw hat young Bob Nickols' eagereyes lighted on Louisa Helen's white sunbonnet which was being flirtedpartly in and partly out of the milk-house door. As he threw down thereins he gave a low, sweet quail whistle, and Louisa Helen's responsewas given in one liquid note of accord.
"Lands alive, it woulder been drinking harm tea to try to whistle awoman down in my day, but now they come a-running," remarked Mr.Crabtree to Rose Mary, as he prepared to take his departure in thewake of the pink petticoats that had hurried across the street.
Then for another hour Rose Mary worked alone in the milk-house,humming a happy little tune to herself as she pounded and patted andmoulded away. Every now and then she would glance down Providence Roadtoward Boliver, far away around the bend, and when at last she saw oldGray and her rider turn behind the hill she began to straighten thingspreparatory to a return to the Briars. In the world-old drama ofcreation which is being ever enacted anew in the heart of a woman, itis well that the order of evolution is reversed and only after thebringing together and marshaling of forces unsuspected even by herselfcomes the command for light on the darkness of the situation. RoseMary was as yet in the dusk of the night which waited for the voice ofGod on the waters, and there was yet to come the dawn of her firstday.
And in the semi-mist of the dream she finally ascended the hill towardthe Briars with a bucket in one hand and a sunbonnet swinging in theother. But coming down the trail she met one of the little tragediesof life in the person of Stonewall Jackson, who was draggingdejectedly across the yard from the direction of the back door withMrs. Sniffer and all five little dogs trailing in his wake. And as ifin sympathy with his mood, the frisky little puppies were waddlingalong decorously while Sniffer poked her nose affectionately into thelittle brown hand which was hanging without its usual jaunty swing.Rose Mary took in the situation at a glance and sank down under one ofthe tall lilac bushes and looked up with adoring eyes as Stonie cameand took a spread-legged stand before her.
"What's the matter, honey-sweet?" she asked quickly.
"Rose Mamie, it's a lie that I don't know whether I told or not. It'sso curious that I don't hardly think God knows what I did," and theGeneral's face was set and white with his distress.
"Tell me, Stonie, maybe I can help you decide," said Rose Mary withquick sympathy.
"It was one of them foolish turkey hens and Tobe sat down on her anda whole nest of most hatched little turkeys. Didn't nobody know shewas a-setting in the old wagon but Aunt Amandy, and we was a-climbinginto it for a boat on the stormy sea, we was playing like. It wasmighty bad on Tobe's pants, too, for he busted all the eggs. Lookslike he just always finds some kind of smell and falls in it. I knowMis' Poteet'll be mad at him. And then in a little while here comeAunt Amandy to feed the old turkey, and she 'most cried when she foundthings so bad all around everywhere. We had runned behind thecorn-crib, but when I saw her begin to kinder cry I comed out. Thenshe asked me did I break up her nest she was a-saving to surpriseUncle Tucker with, and I told her no ma'am I didn't--but I didn't tellher I was with Tobe climbing into the wagon, and it only happened heslid down first on the top of the old turkey. It don't _think_ like tome it was a lie, but it _feels_ like one right here," and Stonie laidhis hand on the pit of his little stomach, which was not far away fromthe seat of his pain if the modern usage assigned the solar-plexus becorrect.
"And did Tobe stay still behind the corn-crib and not come out to tellAunt Amandy he was sorry he had ruined her turkey nest?" asked RoseMary, bent on getting all the facts before offering judgment.
"Yes'm, he did, and now he's mighty sorry, cause Tobe loves AuntAmandy as well as being skeered of the devil. He says if it was AuntViney he'd rather the devil would get him right now than tell her, butif you'll come lend him some of my britches he will come in and tellAunt Amandy about it. He's tooken his off and he has to stay in thecorn-crib until I get something for him to put on."
"Of course I'll come get some trousers for Tobe and a clean shirt,too, and I know Aunt Amanda will be glad to forgive him. Tobe isalways so nice to her and she'll be sorry he's sorry, and then itwill be all right, won't it?" And thus with a woman's usual shrinkingfrom meeting the question ethical, Rose Mary sought to settle thematter in hand out of court as it were.
"No, Rose Mamie, I ain't sure about that lie yet," asserted theGeneral in a somewhat relieved tone of voice, but still a littleuneasy about the moral question involved in the case. "Did I tell itor not? Do you know, Rose Mamie, or will I have to wait till I go toGod to find out?"
"Stonie, I really don't know," admitted Rose Mary as she drew thelittle arguer to her and rested her cheek against the stu
rdy littleshoulder under the patched gingham shirt. "It was not your business totell on Tobe but--but--please, honey-sweet, let's leave it to God,now. He understands, I'm sure, and some day when you have grown a bigand wise man you'll think it all out. When you do, will you tell RoseMamie?"
"Yes, I reckon I'll have to wait till then, and I'll tell you sure,Rose Mamie, when I do find out. I won't never forget it, but I hopemaybe Tobe won't get into no more mess from now till then. Please comefind the britches for me!" And consoled thus against his will theGeneral followed Rose Mary to the house and into their room, eager forthe relief and rehabiting of the prisoner.
And in a few minutes the scene of the _amende honorable_ betweenlittle Miss Amanda and the small boys was enacted out on the backsteps, well out of sight and hearing of Miss Lavinia. A new bond wasinstituted between the little old lady, who was tremulous witheagerness to keep the culprit from any form of self-reproach, andTobe, the unfortunate, who was one of her most ardent admirers at alltimes. And it was sealed by a double handful of tea-cakes to bothoffenders.
After she had watched the boys disappear in the direction of the barn,intent on making a great clean-up job of the disaster under MissAmanda's direction, Rose Mary wended her way to the garden for aprecious hour of communion with her flowers and vegetable nurserybabies. She had just tucked up her skirts and started in with a lighthoe when she espied Uncle Tucker coming slowly up Providence Road fromthe direction of the north woods. Something a bit dejected in his stepand a slightly greater stoop in his shoulders made her throw down herweapon of war on the weeds and come to lean over the wall to wait forhim.
"What's the matter, old Sweetie--tired?" she demanded as he camealongside and leaned against the wall near her. His big gray eyes weretroubled and there was not the sign of the usual quizzical smile. Theforelock hung down in a curl from under the brim of the old gray hatand the lavender muffler swung at loose ends. As he lighted the oldcob his lean brown hands trembled slightly and he utterly refused tolook into Rose Mary's eyes. "What is it, honey-heart?" she demandedagain.
"What's what, Rose Mary?" asked Uncle Tucker with a slight rift in thegloom. "They are some women in the world, if a man was to seal up histrouble in a termater-can and swoller it, would get a button-hook anda can-opener to go after him to get it out. You belong to thatpersuasion."
"I want to be the tomato-can--and not be 'swollered'," answered RoseMary as she reached over and gently removed the tattered gray rooffrom off the white shock and began to smooth and caress its brim intosomething of its former shape. "I know something is the matter, and ifit's your trouble it's mine. I'm your heir at law, am I not?"
"Yes, and you're a-drawing on the estate for more'n your share ofpesters, looks like," answered Uncle Tucker as he raised his eyes tohers wistfully.
"Is it something about--about the mortgage?" asked Rose Mary in thegently hushed tone that she always used in speaking of this evercouchant enemy of their peace.
"Yes," answered Uncle Tucker slowly, "it's about the mortgage, and I'mmighty sorry to have to tell you, but I reckon I'll have to come toaccepting you from the Lord as a rod and staff to hobble on. I--I hadthat settlement with the Senator this evening 'fore he left and itcame pretty nigh winding me to see how things stood. Instead of alittle more'n one hundred dollars behind in the interest we are mightynear on to six, and by right figures, too. It just hasn't measured outany year, and I never stopped to count it at so much. Gid was mightykind about it and said never mind, let it run, but--but I'm notsettled in my mind it's right to hold on like this; he maybe didn'tmean it, but before dinner he dropped a word about being mighty hardpressed for money to keep up this here white ribbon contest he'sa-running against his own former record. No, I'm not settled in mymind about the rights of it," and with this uneasy reiteration UncleTucker raised his big eyes to Rose Mary in which lay the exact questfor the path of honor that she had met in the young eyes of theGeneral not two hours before. In fact, Uncle Tucker's eyes were solike Stonie's in their mournful demand for a decision from her thatRose Mary's tender heart throbbed with sympathy but sank with dismayat again having the decision of a question of masculine ethicspresented to her.
"I just don't know what to say, Uncle Tucker," she faltered, thusfailing him in his crisis more completely than she had the boy.
"The time for saying has passed, and I'm afraid to look forwards towhat we may have to do," answered Uncle Tucker quietly. "After Gid wasgone on up the road I walked over to Tilting Rock and sat down with mypipe to think it all over. My eyes are a-getting kinder dim now, butas far as I could see in most all directions was land that I hadalways called mine since I come into a man's estate. And there is noneof it that has ever had a deed writ aginst it since that first Allowaygot it in a grant from Virginy. There is meadow land and cornhillside, creeks for stock and woodlands for shelter, and the Allowaysbefore me have fenced it solid and tended it honest, with returnenrichment for every crop. And now it has come to me in my old age tolet it go into the hands of strangers--sold by my own flesh and bloodfor a mess of pottage, he not knowing what he did I will believe, Godhelp me. I'm resting him and the judgment of him in the arms of Mercy,but my living folks have got to have an earthly shelter. Can you see away, child? As I say, my eyes are a-getting dim."
"I can't see any other shelter than the Briars, Uncle Tucker, andthere isn't going to be any other," answered Rose Mary as she strokedthe old hat in her hand. "You know sometimes men run right against astone wall when a woman can see a door plainly in front of them both.She just looks for the door and don't ask to know who is going to openit from the other side. Our door is there I know--I have been lookingfor it for a long time. Right now it looks like a cow gate to me," anda little reluctant smile came over Rose Mary's grave face as if shewere being forced to give up a cherished secret before she were readyfor the revelation.
"And if the gate sticks, Rose Mary, I believe you'll climb the fenceand pull us all over, whether or no," answered Uncle Tucker with aslightly comforted expression coming into his eyes. "You're one of thewomen who knot a bridle out of a horse's own tail to drive him with.Have you got this scheme already geared up tight, ready to start?"
"It's only that Mr. Crabtree brought word from town that the biggrocery he sells my butter to would agree to take any amount I couldsend them at a still larger price. If we could hold on to the place,buy more cows and all the milk other people in Sweetbriar have to sellI believe I could make the interest and more than the interest everyyear. But if Mr. Newsome needs the money, I am afraid--he might notlike to wait. It would be a year before I could see exactly how thingssucceed--and that's a long time."
"Yes, and it would mean for you to just be a-turning yourself intomeat and drink for the family, nothing more or less, Rose Mary. Youwork like you was a single filly hitched to a two-horse wagon now, andthat would be just piling fence rails on top of the load of hay youare already a-drawing for all of us old live stock. You couldn't workall that butter."
"Don't you know that love mixed in the bread of life makes it easy forthe woman to work a large batch for her family, Uncle Tucker?--and whynot butter? Will you talk to Mr. Newsome the next time he comes andsee what he thinks of the plan? I would tell him about itmyself--only I--I don't know why, but I don't--want to." Rose Maryblushed and looked away across the Road, but her confusion was allunnoticed by Uncle Tucker, who was busily lighting a second pipeful oftobacco.
"Yes, I'll talk to him and Crabtree both about it," he answeredslowly. "I can't hardly bear the idea of your doing it, child, and ifit was just me I wouldn't hear tell of it, but Sister Viney and SisterAmandy--moved they'd be like a couple of sprouts of their ownhoneysuckle vine that you had pulled up and left in the sun to wilt.Home was a place to grow in for women of their day, not just a-kinderwaiting shack between stations like it has come to be in these timesof women's uprising--in the newspapers."
"We don't get much new woman excitement out here in Harpeth Valley,Uncle Tucker," laughed Rose Mary, glad to see
him rise once more fromthe depth of his depression to his usual philosophic level. "Youwouldn't call--er--er Mrs. Poteet a modern woman, would you?"
"Fly-away, Peggy Poteet is the genuine, original mossback and hadoughter be expelled from the sex by the confederation presidentherself," answered Uncle Tucker as they both glanced down past themilk-house where they saw the comely mother of the seven at her gateadministering refreshment in the form of bread and jam to all of herown and quite a number of the other members of the Swarm, includingthe General and the reclothed and shriven Tobe. "If there is anotherPoteet output next April we'll have to report her," he added with alaugh.
"But there never was a baby since Stonie like little Tucker," answeredRose Mary in quick defense of the small namesake of whom Uncle Tuckerwas secretly but inordinately proud.
"Yes, and I'm a-going to report you to the society of suppression ofmen folks as a regular spiler, Rose Mary Alloway, if you don't keepmore stern than you are at present with me and Stonie, to say nothingof all the men members of Sweetbriar from Everett clean on throughCrabtree down to that very young Tucker Poteet. You are one of thewomen that feed and clothe and blush on men like you were borned ahundred years ago and nobody had told you they wasn't worth shucks.Are you a-going to reform?"
"I'll try when I get time," answered Rose Mary with a smile as shebestowed both a fleeting kiss and the old hat on Uncle Tucker'sforelock over the wall. "Now I want to run in and make a few cupcustards, so I can save one for Mr. Mark when he gets home to-night.He loves them cold. Little cooking attentions never spoil men, theyjust nourish them. Anyway, what is a woman going to have left to do inlife if she sheds the hovering feathers she keeps to tuck her nestiesunderneath?"
Rose of Old Harpeth Page 6