Part 7 (1/2)
”I'll do dat,” said the old man, much delighted with the idea of doing something which he supposed would remove the clouds which overhung the household of his mistress. ”I'll fotch de hoss an' de spring waggin an'
dribe you ober dar.”
”No, you don' do no sech thing!” exclaimed Aunt Patsy, angrily. ”I ain't gwine to hab no hosses to run away, an' chuck me out on de road. Ef you kin fotch de oxen an' de cart, I go 'long wid you, but I don' want no hosses.”
”Dat's fus' rate,” said Isham. ”I'll fotch de ox cart, an' carry you ober. When you want ter go?”
”Dunno jes' now,” said Aunt Patsy, pus.h.i.+ng away a block of wood which served for a footstool, and making elaborate preparations to rise from her chair. ”I'll sen' fur you when I's ready.”
The next morning was a very busy one for Aunt Patsy's son Tom's yellow boy Bob's child; and by afternoon it was necessary to send for two colored women from a neighboring cabin to a.s.sist in the preparations which Aunt Patsy was making for her projected visit. An old hair covered trunk, which had not been opened for many years, was brought out, and the contents exposed to the unaccustomed light of day; two coa.r.s.e cotton petticoats were exhumed and ordered to be bleached and ironed; a yellow flannel garment of the same nature was put aside to be mended with some red pieces which were rolled up in it; out of several yarn stockings of various ages and lengths two were selected as being pretty much alike, and laid by to be darned; an old black frock with full ”bishop sleeves,”
a good deal mended and dreadfully wrinkled, was given to one of the neighbors, expert in such matters, to be ironed; and the propriety of making use of various other ancient duds was eagerly and earnestly discussed. Aunt Patsy, whose vitality had been wonderfully aroused, now that there was some opportunity for making use of it, spent nearly two hours turning over, examining, and reflecting upon a pair of old-fas.h.i.+oned corsets, which, although they had been long cherished, she had never worn. She now hoped that the occasion for their use had at last arrived but the utter impossibility of getting herself into them was finally made apparent to her, and she mournfully returned them to the trunk.
Was.h.i.+ng, starching, ironing, darning, patching, and an immense deal of talk and consultation, occupied that and a good deal of the following day, the rest of which was given up to the repairing of an immense pair of green baize shoes, without which Aunt Patsy could not be persuaded to go into the outer air. It was Sat.u.r.day morning when she began to dress for the trip, and although Isham, wearing a high silk hat, and a long black coat which had once belonged to a clergyman, arrived with the ox cart about noon, the old woman was not ready to start till two or three hours afterward. Her a.s.sistants, who had increased in number, were active and a.s.siduous. Aunt Patsy was very particular as to the manner of her garbing, and gave them a great deal of trouble. It had been fifteen years since she had set foot outside of her house, and ten more since she had ridden in any kind of vehicle. This was a great occasion, and nothing concerning it was to be considered lightly.
”'Tain't right,” she said to Uncle Isham when he arrived, ”fur a pow'ful ole pusson like me to set out on a jarney ob dis kin' 'thout 'ligious sarvices. 'Tain't 'spectable.”
Uncle Isham rubbed his head a good deal at this remark. ”Dunno wot we gwine to do 'bout dat,” he said. ”Brudder Jeemes lib free miles off, an'
mos' like he's out ditchin'. Couldn't git him h'yar dis ebenin', nohow.”
”Well den,” said Aunt Patsy, ”you conduc' sarvices yourse'f, Uncle Isham, an' we kin have prar meetin', anyhow.”
Uncle Isham having consented to this, he put his oxen under the care of a small boy, and collecting in Aunt Patsy's room the five colored women and girls who were in attendance upon her, he conducted ”prars,” making an extemporaneous pet.i.tion which comprehended all the probable contingencies of the journey, even to the accident of the right wheel of the cart coming off, which the old man very reverently a.s.serted that he would have lynched with a regular pin instead of a broken poker handle, if he could have found one. After the prayer, with which Aunt Patsy signified her entire satisfaction by frequent Amens, the company joined in the vigorous singing of a hymn, in which they stated that they were ”gwine down to Jurdun, an' tho' the road is rough, when once we shuh we git dar, we all be glad enough; de rocks an' de stones, an' de jolts to de bones will be nuffin' to de glory an' de jiy.”
The hymn over, Uncle Isham clapped on his hat, and hurried menacingly after the small boy, who had let the oxen wander along the roadside until one wheel of the cart was nearly in the ditch. Aunt Patsy now partook of a collation, consisting of a piece of hoe-cake dipped in pork fat, and a cup of coffee, which having finished, she declared herself ready to start. A chair was put into the cart, and secured by ropes to keep it from slipping; and then, with two women on one side and Uncle Isham on the other, while another woman stood in the cart to receive and adjust her, she was placed in position.
Once properly disposed she presented a figure which elicited the lively admiration of her friends, whose number was now increased by the arrival of a couple of negro boys on mules, who were going to the post-office, it being Sat.u.r.day, and mail day. Around Aunt Patsy's shoulders was a bright blue worsted shawl, and upon her head a voluminous turban of vivid red and yellow. Since their emanc.i.p.ation, the negroes in that part of the country had discarded the positive and gaudy colors that were their delight when they were slaves, and had transferred their fancy to delicate pinks, pale blues, and similar shades. But Aunt Patsy's ideas about dress were those of by-gone days, and she was too old now to change them, and her brightest handkerchief had been selected for her head on this important day. Above her she held a parasol, which had been graciously loaned by her descendant of the fourth generation. It was white, and lined with pink, and on the edges still lingered some fragments of cotton lace.
Uncle Isham now took his position by the side of his oxen, and started them; and slowly creaking, Aunt Patsy's vehicle moved off, followed by the two boys on mules, three colored women and two girls on foot, and by two little black urchins who were sometimes on foot, but invariably on the tail of the cart when they could manage to evade the backward turn of Uncle Isham's eye.
”Ef I should go to glory on de road, Uncle Isham,” said Aunt Patsy, as the right wheel of the cart emerged from a rather awkward rut, ”I don'
want no fuss made 'bout me. You kin jes' bury me in de clothes. I got on, 'cep'n de pararsol, ob course, which is Liza's. Jes' wrop de quilt all roun' me, an' hab a extry size coffin. You needn't do nuffin' more'n dat.”
”Oh, you's not gwine to glory dis time, Aun' Patsy,” replied Uncle Isham, who did not want to encourage the idea of the old woman's departure from life while in his ox cart. But after this remark of the old woman he was extraordinarily careful in regard to jolts and b.u.mps.
When the procession reached the domain of Miss Harriet Corvey, there was gathered inside the yard quite a number of the usual attendants on mail days, awaiting the arrival of Wesley Green with his waddling horse and leather bag. But all interest in the coming of the mail was lost in the surprise and admiration excited by the astounding apparition of old Aunt Patsy in the ox cart, attended by her retinue. As the oxen, skilfully guided by Uncle Isham's long prod, turned into the yard, everybody came forward to find out the reason of this unlooked-for occurrence. Even old Madison Chalkley, his stout legs swaddled in home-made overalls, dismounted from his horse, and Colonel Iston raised his tall form from the porch step where he had been sitting, and approached the cart.
”Upon my word,” said a young fellow, with high boots, slouched hat, and a riding whip, ”if here ain't old Aunt Patsy come after a letter! Where do you expect a letter from, Aunt Patsy?”
The old woman fixed her spectacles on him for an instant, and then said in a clear voice which could be heard by all the little crowd: ”'Tain't from n.o.body dat I owes any money to, nohow, Mahs' Bill Trimble.”
A general laugh followed this rejoinder, and Uncle Isham grinned with gratified pride in the enduring powers of his charge. The old woman now put down her parasol, and made as if she would descend from the cart.
”You needn't git out, Aun' Patsy,” said several negro boys at once.
”We'll fotch your letters to you.”
”Git 'long wid you!” said the old woman angrily. ”I didn't come here fur no letters. Ef I wanted letters I'd sen' 'Liza fur 'em. Git out de way.”
A chair was now brought, and placed near the cart; a woman mounted into the vehicle to a.s.sist her; Uncle Isham and another colored man stood ready to receive her, and Aunt Patsy began her descent. This, to her mind, was a much more difficult and dangerous proceeding than getting into the cart, and she was very slow and cautious about it. First, one of her great green baize feet was put over the tail of the cart, and resting her weight upon the two men, Aunt Patsy allowed it to descend to the chair, where it was gradually followed by the other foot. Having safely accomplished this much, the old woman e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed: ”Bress de Lor'!” When, in the same prudent manner, she had reached the ground, she heaved a sigh of relief, and fervently exclaimed: ”De Lor' be bressed!”