Part 41 (1/2)
”Jedge Elliott!”
”Yes, I am Judge Elliott.”
He stood looking straight at the Judge. ”Then, suh, I can't say that I'm glad to meet you.”
”Nor I to meet you, under such circ.u.mstances, Mr. Starbuck. I am indeed sorry to see so venerable a looking man brought here on a charge so serious. And I request from you a straightforward statement.”
Old Jasper turned toward Foster. ”I can't talk while he's in here, Jedge. He seed me in jail and I can't talk befo' no man that has seed me there.”
”You needn't hesitate to speak within his hearing, Mr. Starbuck. He was a soldier, too.”
”What, all soldiers? Then I have been tuck into camp.”
”But not into the camp of your enemies. At a time when your state took up arms against the Federal government, you stepped forth to fight for the Union, and it is in consideration of this fact that I grant to you an examination here in chambers, to save you every possible humiliation.
And now I ask you--”
”Jedge, I didn't come here to beg.”
”I understand that. I simply request a straightforward statement.”
”If you will let me give it in my own way, Jedge, you shall have it.”
”In your own way, Mr. Starbuck. Proceed.”
”Well, then, I'll begin at the beginnin'. Jedge, I live away up in the hills. My grandaddy settled there an' cleared off his field on a hill-side where the sun struck it a slantin' an' raised his co'n an'
made his licker an' the gover'ment never said a word. One day him an'
his two sons was a workin' in the field an' all of a suddent they heard a drum and fife over in the road. The boys looked with big eyes an' the old man clim' up on the fence and shouted, 'whut's the matter here?' and a man with red, white an' blue ribbons on his arm cried out, 'Old Andy Jackson needs soldiers to go to New Orleans.' An' my grandaddy he turns roun' to the youngsters an' says, 'Come on boys.' They went, suh, an'
one of them boys he didn't come back. Wall, the years pa.s.sed an' my daddy an' my oldest brother was a workin' in that same field, a raisin'
of his co'n an' a makin' of his licker--an' mind you the gover'ment never had opened its chops, fur it was good licker--an' all at once jest like years befo' there came a beatin' of drums an' a blowin' of fifes over in the road. An' my daddy clim' up on the fence an' says, 'Whut's the matter now?' An' a man tuck a fife outen his mouth an' shouts, 'Mexico has trod on us an' we need soldiers.' An' my daddy turns, he does, an' says to my brother, 'Come on Bob.' They went, Jedge, an' Bob he didn't come back. Am I a makin' it too long?”
”No, Mr. Starbuck, proceed.”
”Do it sound like I'm a beggin'?”
”No” said the Judge, ”it is the rude epic of my country. Go on.”
”I thank you, suh. Well, finally, my time come. I married a game little woman an' we had two of as fine boys as the world ever seen. I raised my co'n on that same hill-side an' made my licker an' the government never said a word. An' when me an' them boys was a workin' up there we could hear that little woman a singin' down at the house--a singin' the songs of glory she had hearn the old soldiers sing. Well, one day me an' them boys--twin boys, Jedge,--was a hoein' the co'n in the field. I ricolleck it jest as well as if it was yistidy. An' atter all these years I can hear that song a comin' up from the house. An' then--then come that same thrillin' noise, the beatin' of drums an' a blowin' of fifes. We clim'
up on the fence, jest like my granddaddy an' my daddy had done, an' I cried out, 'Whut's the trouble now?' The drums stopped, an' one of the men raised his flag up high an' shouted, 'The country is a splittin' up an' the Union needs soldiers.' An' I says, 'Come on, boys.' I can look back now, Jedge, an' see that little woman a standin' under a tree a wavin' us a good-bye with an old flag. I can see her yit. Jedge, we went down into the fiery furnace. We seed the flag droop an' fall, an'
then--then rise in victory. Yes, I seed it. But my boys--my boys that was like picturs in the book--they was left at Gettysberg. An' when that po' little woman hearn that they wan't comin' back, she pined away an'
died--an' when I come home a bleedin', there was a grave under the tree where we had seed her a standin' jest befo' we went down beyant the hill. I--”
”Mr. Starbuck--”
”Wait a minit, Jedge, I ain't through yit. What did I know how to do when I got back to work? What had my grandaddy an' my daddy done? I went to raisin' of my co'n an' a makin' of my licker, an' still the gover'ment never said a word. But atter a while I hearn it was ag'in the law, an' I says, 'me an' all my folks have been a sheddin' of our blood for our country, an' some of them fellers that makes the laws never done that.' But I stopped sellin' the licker. I made it whenever I wanted to, somehow jest for a old time's sake, an' I sent it to sick folks--sent some of it to our ripresentative in Congress, right into the heart of the gover'ment an' not a word was said.”
”Old man--”
”I ain't quite through yit, Jedge. The neighbors knowd that I made licker when I wanted to an' they never said nuthin', but lately a scoundrel took it into his head to give me trouble. Fust he wanted to marry my daughter an' then he threatened that unless I'd give him a thousand dollars--but, Jedge, I'd seen him in h.e.l.l fust!”