Part 17 (2/2)
Mrs. Stucky made no response to this, and none seemed to be necessary.
Bud sat and pulled his thin beard, and gazed in the fire. Presently he laughed and said:
”I jess bet a hoss you couldn't guess who I seed; now I jess bet that.”
Mrs. Stucky rubbed the side of her face thoughtfully, and seemed to be making a tremendous effort to imagine whom Bud had seen.
”'Twer'n't no man, en 'twer'n't no Azalia folks. 'Twuz a gal.”
”A gal!” exclaimed Mrs. Stucky.
”Yes'n, a gal, an' _ef_ she wa'n't a zooner you may jess take an' knock my chunk out.”
Mrs. Stucky looked at her son curiously. Her cold gray eyes glittered in the firelight as she held them steadily on his face. Bud, conscious of this inspection, moved about in his chair uneasily, s.h.i.+fting his feet from one side to the other.
”'Twer'n't no Sal Badger,” he said, after a while, laughing sheepishly; ”'twer'n't no Maria Matthews, 'twer'n't no Lou Hornsby, an' 'twer'n't no Martha Jane Williams, nuther. She wuz a bran'-new gal, an' she went ter the tavern, _she_ did.”
”I've done saw 'er,” said Mrs. Stucky placidly.
”You done saw 'er, maw!” exclaimed Bud. ”Well, the great Jemimy! What's her name, maw?”
”They didn't call no names,” said Mrs. Stucky. ”They jess sot thar, an'
gormandized on waffles an' batter-cakes, an' didn't call no names. Hit made me dribble at the mouf, the way they went on.”
”Wuz she purty, maw?”
”I sot an' looked at um,” Mrs. Stucky went on, ”an' I 'lowed maybe the war moughter come betwixt the old un an' her good looks. The t'other one looks mighty slick, but, Lordy! She hain't nigh ez slick ez that ar Lou Hornsby; yit she's got lots purtier motions.”
”Well, I seed 'er, maw,” said Bud, gazing into the depths of the fireplace. ”Atter the ingine come a-snortin' by, I jumped up behind the hack whar they puts the trunks, an' I got a right good glimp' un 'er; an' ef she hain't purty, then I dunner what purty is. What'd you say her name wuz, maw?”
”Lordy, jess hark ter the creetur! Hain't I jess this minute hollered, an' tole you that they hain't called no names?”
”I 'lowed maybe you moughter hearn the name named, an' then drapt it,”
said Bud, still gazing into the fire. ”I tell you what, she made that ole hack look big, _she_ did!”
”You talk like you er start crazy, Bud!” exclaimed Mrs. Stucky, leaning over, and fixing her glittering eyes on his face. ”Lordy! what's she by the side er me? Is she made out'n i'on?”
Bud's enthusiasm immediately vanished, and a weak, flickering smile took possession of his face.
”No'm--no'm; that she hain't made out'n i'on! She's lots littler'n you is--lots littler. She looks like she's sorry.”
”Sorry! What fer?”
”Sorry fer we-all.”
Mrs. Stucky looked at her son with amazement, not unmixed with indignation. Then she seemed to remember something she had forgotten.
”Sorry fer we-all, honey, when we er got this great big pile er tavern vittles?” she asked with a smile; and then the two fell to, and made the most of Mrs. Haley's charity.
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