Part 15 (1/2)
Sim walked to the church door with Mag, and then in observance of established customs, sauntered off, happening to stroll in the direction of Laz. Margaret appealed to Jasper. ”Don't you let 'em have no trouble here. If you do, I won't let you have no peace fur a month.”
”Don't expect to have none nohow,” the old man drawled.
Sim came along and Laz stepped forth to meet him. The newcomer advanced, holding out his hand. ”Laz,” he said, ”I'm glad to be of some service to you. Mag was a comin' to church an' as her sister couldn't come I rode along with her. Me an' her sister air goin' to be married befo' long.”
Laz took hold of his hand. ”Sim,” he said, and his voice wavered and tears gathered in the sympathetic eyes of Mrs. Mayfield--”Sim, I done you wrong. I 'lowed you was a tryin' to cut me out an' I done you a injestice, an' ef thar's any sort of punishment you want to put on me, put it thar an' I'll take it an' won't say a word.”
”Laz, old hoss, I've already put the punishment on you--I've tuck her sister Ella, the flower an' the perfume of the family.”
”They tell us,” said Mrs. Mayfield, turning to her nephew, ”that once the sun went down and never more arose to illumine a day of gallantry.
They did not tell us the truth.”
”No, auntie. These people are the unconscious survivors of the floral contest at the poetic court of love.”
”Ah, and they have even touched you, wayward boy. But come, shall we not go into the house?”
”You folks go on an' I'll be there atter a while,” replied Jasper.
”Thar's a feller over yander that's got a bay nag I want an' I mout strike up a swop with him by the time the preacher gits to his second an'--der--rer.”
”You ain't goin' to do no sich of a thing,” said Margaret. ”I didn't come all the way over here to be humiliated. You'll go right in thar an'
set down by me. Folks have said you don't love me an' I don't intend that you shall prove it to 'em.”
Jasper grinned, took her arm, and led the way into the house. It was a long sermon, with many excursions, devious hog-paths running criss-cross through a wilderness. But it was ardent and hammering. Old Satan was defied, dared to come forth and show himself to this a.s.sembly, true soldiers of the cross. Children nodding and held upright by their mothers, hands hanging limp, looked like rag dolls; and many a strong man and devil-hating dame felt themselves slipping off into drowsiness.
Jasper snored. Margaret pinched him, determinedly awake in order to inflict punishment; and when at last the welcome benediction fell upon nodding heads and weary shoulders, there was a scramble for the doors and a rush for the baskets. Jasper swore that he never was as hungry in all his life, and upon his arm Margaret put a restraining hand.
”Now don't eat like you never got nothin' at home. Miz Mayfield, it's all put on with him.”
A table cloth was spread on the ground and before the old man had tasted a morsel, he went about looking for someone, astray at the feast, who might not have brought a basket or received an invitation. He returned with Laz, Sim and Mag. The girl minced, nibbling at a chicken wing, and the boys pretended to be dainty, but when the girls were not looking, grabbed like a hired hand at a barbecue. After a time, when the sun had moved far around, Old Jasper wiped his knife on his trousers and remarked: ”Wall, I don't know how the rest of you feel, but as for me I'm goin' off down thar summers in the holler an' take a nap.”
Margaret protested, but a word from Mrs. Mayfield a.s.sured him that privilege, and he strode away, humming as he went. Laz and Mag ”santered” off, Sim sprawled out to sleep, Tom and Lou bird-peeped at each other and Jim and Mrs. Mayfield sat on a log in a lace-work of sun and shade.
”This has been one of the happiest days of my life,” she said. ”I didn't know that there could be so much pleasure without incident. Ah, a quaint and plotless people, Mr. Reverend.”
”There may be more plot than you think, ma'm. These folks all have their troubles. And on the hill-side where you see the white flower, blood runs sometimes. Uncle Jasper and I are about the last of our race--last of the men folks. Most of us have been killed.”
”I don't see how that could be, Mr. Reverend. Such gentleness--”
”Don't be fooled in us, ma'm. We ain't been always blameless. Through our house old Satan has walked, leaving his tracks.”
”Satan tempted the Son of Man, Mr. Reverend.”
”Yes, ma'm; but didn't walk through His house, leaving of his tracks.”
CHAPTER X.
TIED TO A TREE.
The sun was down and the stars were abroad and the young moon looked like a silver bear-claw in the sky when Jasper turned his steers homeward; and all the party broke out in song as down the hill they rattled. The shallows in the river sang too, and high in a tree, a bird too riotous to leave off with the coming of night, was carrolling the tired end of his spree. Suddenly all singing stopped. There was a flutter in the bushes and birds flew away and a rabbit scampered over a log. It was a loud cry of distress and all nature heeds the cry of pain.