The Homesteader: A Novel

by Oscar Micheaux

  CHAPTER XII

  REVEREND MCCARTHY DECIDES TO SET BAPTISTE RIGHT, BUT--

  "Now the first thing, daughter," said the Reverend, "when Jean comes andyou have the time, is to go up and see your claim." Orlean swallowed,and started to tell him that it was contested; but on second thought,decided to leave the task to her husband, and said instead:

  "I have a fine claim, papa. Jean says it is the best piece of land wehave."

  "Now isn't that fine!"

  "It is," Orlean said, thinking of her husband.

  "Your husband has a plenty, my dear, and we have been surprised that youhave not been sending money to Chicago to have us buy something foryou."

  Orlean swallowed again and started to speak; to say that while herhusband was a heavy land holder, the crops had not been the best theyear before and were not as good this year as he had hoped for. Then shethought Jean could explain this better, also, instead she said:

  "I--I haven't wanted for anything, papa."

  "No, perhaps not. But you know papa always thinks of his baby; alwaysbuys her little things and so on, you know." He paused, regarded her andthe dress she wore. He recognized it as one that she had bought justbefore she had gotten married--forgetting that Jean Baptiste had paidfor it--and said:

  "And you have on the same dress you wore away from Chicago! Indeed, andthat is a spring dress! Why do you not wear some of your summer dresses?Some you have bought since you have been married?"

  "I haven't bought--my husband hasn't--I haven't needed any more clothes,really," she argued falteringly. He saw that she was keeping somethingback, and pursued:

  "Why, dear, what do you mean! You don't mean to say that Jean hasn'tbought you any dresses since he married you, and him owning so muchland!"

  "But I haven't needed any, papa--I have not asked him for any." Helooked at her keenly. He saw that she was shielding the man she married,but with this he had no patience.

  "Now, now, my dear. Jean ought not to treat my girl like that. He oughtto buy you lots of things, and pretty things. I'm rather inclined tothink he is miserly--have rather felt he was all the time." He pausedbriefly, posed in the way he did when preaching, and then went on. "Yes,you are sacrificing a great deal by coming away out here in a newcountry and living with him. Yes, yes, my dear. You see you are deprivedof many conveniences; conveniences that you have been accustomed to." Helooked around the little house; at its floor with only rugs, and itssimple furniture. "Just compare this to the home you came out of. Thegood home. Yes, yes. I'm afraid that--that the rough life your husbandhas been living rather makes him forget the conventions my daughter hasbeen accustomed to. Yes, I think so. I'm afraid I'll have to kindof--a--bring such to his attention that he might see his duty. Yes, mydear--"

  "But, papa! I--I--think you had--better not. You see--" and she caughthis arm and was thoughtful, looking downward in the meantime. She lovedJean Baptiste, but she was not a strong willed person by nature,training or disposition. She had inherited her mother's timidness. Atheart she meant well to the man she married, but she had always beenobedient to her father; had never sauced him and had never crossed him,which was his boast. Perhaps it was because of these things and that heknew it, that his nature asserted itself.

  "I'm afraid you, like any newly married wife, are inclined to forgetthese things, rather accept your husband's excuse. Now your husband hasa plenty, and can well afford to give to you. And, besides, you--heshould not forget the sacrifices you are making for him. That is what heshould see. Yes, yes. Now take Ethel," he suddenly turned to her. "Why,Glavis only makes thirteen dollars a week, and--why, Ethel makes him dojust what she wants him to. Buys her a dress any time she wants it; ahat, a pair of shoes--and whatever she wishes. That's Ethel," he ended,forgetting to add that Glavis also bought and paid for the food Mrs.McCarthy ate, or that he, himself only brought--and never bought thingsto eat only when he came into Chicago, three or five times a year--andsent a few things infrequently. But Orlean had taken a little courage.It was rather unusual, and she was surprised at herself. She wassurprised that she dared even argue--just a little--with her father. Hehad always been accepted as infallible without question. To get alongwith him--have peace, her mother and she had always followed the rule ofletting everything be his way, and be content with their own privateopinion without expression as to conclusions. Moreover, whether he wasright or wrong, abused or accused, the rule was to praise and flatterhim notwithstanding. And at such times they could depend on him to domuch for them. But she found her voice. Jean Baptiste was her husband,and she was not ungrateful. He gave her real love and husbandry, and itwas perhaps her woman's nature to speak in defense of her mate. So shesaid:

  "But Jean is not like Glavis, papa. They are two different menentirely."

  "Well, yes, my dear," he said slowly, his dark face taking on apeculiar--and not very pleasant expression, "I'm afraid I will have toagree with you. Yes. They are different. Glavis is a fine boy, though.Don't own a thousand acres of land, but certainly takes care of homelike a man. No, no. I never have to worry about anything. Just come homeevery few months to see that everything is all right--and find it so.Yes, that is Glavis. While Jean," and his mind went quickly back to anincident that had happened twenty-one years before, "is rather set inhis ways. Yes, very much so, I fear. That is one of his failings. Somepeople would call it hard headed, but I should not quite call it that.No. Then, again," he paused a moment, looked at the floor and looked up."He's crazy to get rich. You see, dear--of course you don't know that.Not old enough. That's where your father has the advantage over you--andJean also. He's older. It's bad when a man is ambitious to get rich, forhe is liable to work himself and his wife to death. Jean's liable to dothat with you. Not like your old father, you know."

  "Here he comes now," she cried excitedly, going quickly to the kitchenand making a fire and starting the meal. Her father looked after her. Helooked out the window to where his son-in-law was unhitching his horses.He looked back to where his daughter was working nervously over thestove, and muttered to himself. "Has her trained to run like somethingfrightened at his approach. That's the same spirit I tried to conquertwenty-one years ago and it is still in him. M-m. I'll have to lookafter that disposition." And with that he went outside to where hisdaughter's husband worked.

  "Hello, Reverend," called Jean cheerfully. The "Reverend" darkened andglowered unseen. He did not like that term of address. Glavis called him"father." That was better. But he returned apparently as cheerful:

  "Hello, my boy. So you are home to dinner?"

  "Yes. Guess it's ready. She is very prompt about having my meals ontime. Yes. Orlean is a good girl, and appreciates that I believe inalways being on time," he rattled off.

  "And how are the crops?"

  "Not so good, not so good, I regret to say," said Jean moodily. "No; tobe truthful, it is the poorest crop I have ever raised. Yes," he musedas if to himself. "And I need a good crop this year worse than I haveever needed one. Yes, I sure do.

  "Indeed so. Got lots of expense. Borrowed ten thousand dollars to buythat land out there in Tripp County, and have none of it producinganything. And on top of that a guy comes along and slaps a contest onOrlean's place, and so I have that on my hands in addition to all theother burdens. So, believe me, it keeps me hopping."

  "A contest on Orlean's place? What does that mean?"

  "Does that mean! But of course you couldn't understand," whereat,Baptiste tried to explain to him what it meant.

  "So you see you find us with our troubles." The Reverend made no replyto this. Indeed, he had never been able to reply to Jean Baptiste. Inthe first place, the man was ever too hurried; moreover, he understoodso little regarding practical business matters until their relations hadnever been congenial. When Jean had watered and fed his teams he cameback to where the Elder stood and said:

  "Well, Judge, we'll go in to dinner." Now the Reverend was almost upset.Such flat expressions! Such a little regard for his caste. Horrid! Hestarted to
speak to him regarding his lack of manners, but that one hadhis face in the tub where the horses had drank, washing himself eagerly.When he was through, he drew water from the well, and pouring it into awash basin rinsed himself, and called for the towel. No sooner had hedone so than out of the house came Orlean with the goods.

  "Wash up," cried Baptiste, pointing to the horse tub.

  "Jean!" called his wife remonstratingly. "You forget yourself. Askingpapa to wash where the horses have drank! You must be more thoughtful!"

  Baptiste laughed. "Beg pardon, Colonel. You see this open life has mademe--er--rather informal. But you'll get used to and like it with time.Wash up and let's eat!"

  "He's wild, just wild!" muttered the Reverend, as he followed them intothe house.