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Updated: June 4, 2025
The person in the pulpit was, we learned, a Fylde farmer; but he must at some time have lived in the north, for he said "dowter" for daughter, "gert" for great, "nather" for neither, "natteral" for natural, and gave his "r's" capital good exercise, turning them round well, throughout his entire discourse; and he cared very little for either singular or plural verbs.
"Thirsty . . . Gert died." "Damn." "Yeah. This morning. I just called." She pushed her bottle in his direction and watched him take two long swallows. "Thanks," he said. "Ginger that's her niece is supposed to arrive tonight. She's staying at the house, so I said I'd be there." "I'm sorry, Patrick." "I am, too. I keep seeing Gert lying in that hospital bed all alone." He paused.
She raised her eyebrows in greeting and whispered something he couldn't hear. He bent closer. "Call Ginger." Patrick nodded and said, "I will." Ginger was her niece. She lived in St. Louis. "Patrick." "Yes?" "That chest treasure chest don't let her see it . . . Mine . . . " "O.K., Gert, O.K. I'll take care of it. But, you'll be home soon." She smiled faintly and shook her head no.
"Well, now, let's see your plan," challenged the gentleman; and he began to read from Gertrude's paper: "'Parlor, sewing-room Now that's extravagant, Gert. I think your women-folks might get along without a special sewing-room. Why can't they sew in the dining-room?" "That's handsome, and very gallant," answered Gertrude.
These things she made him drink and eat, and she spoke to the old man while he did so, larding the discussion of necessary details with expressions of hope for the dead. "Be strong, an' faace it, uncle. God knaws best. I lay the poor lovey was took from gert evil to come. You knaw so well as me. You can guess wheer her'd be now if livin'. She'm in a better home than that.
Billy an' me go down the hill as gradual an' easy as any man 's a right to expect. But he's gettin' so bald as a coot; an' now the shape of his head comes to be knawed, theer 's wonnerful bumps 'pon it. Then your brother's all for sport an' war. A Justice of the Peace they've made un, tu. He's got his volunteer chaps to a smart pitch, theer's no gainsaying. A gert man for wild diversions he is.
Within an hour after his arrival, the magistrate sentenced him to receive twenty-live lashes with a cat o' nine tails on the bare back, and to pay a fine of five pounds, being five times the value of the slaughtered sheep according to Gert Botha's computation. In levying the fine, the two cows which he had given as lobola were seized much against the will of old Dalisile.
She says if she could sell my line on the road, she'd make you give her the job so she could send her man to war. Gert says a travelling man's wife ought to make an ideal soldier's wife, anyway; and that if I went it would only be like my long Western trip, multiplied by about ten, maybe. That's Gertie." Emma was fingering the cotton-flannel garment on the table.
She rehearsed various greetings, but when he came through the door she took one look and asked him what was the matter. "Gert is in the hospital." "Oh no, your nice landlady?" Patrick nodded. "Is it serious?" Patrick raised his arms and let out a breath. "Yes," he said. "I called her niece in St. Louis. She's coming today, I think. I need a sandwich. Maybe we could meet later?" "Sure.
'T will all be well enough when she turns her back on the church-door an' hears the weddin'-bells a-clashing for her future joy. Doan't you come nigh her much during the next few weeks." "Two," corrected Mr. Grimbal, moodily. "Eh! Awnly two! Well, 't is gert darkness for me, I promise you gert darkness comin' for Monks Barton wi'out the butivul sound an' sight of her no more.
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