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As individual fugitives returned, confirming the decisive repulse of the band, Patty Cannon's face grew dark, and her oaths low and deep; Cyrus James heard her say: "If I could only hang some one for this! Joe Johnson's the white-livered sneak that would not go. I've hanged a better son-in-law." "Aunt Patty, I love your grandchild, Huldy," Cy James ventured to say.
You see, Huldy was jist like a bee: she always sung when she was workin', and you could hear her trillin', now down in the corn-patch, while she was pickin' the corn; and now in the buttery, while she was workin' the butter; and now she'd go singin' down cellar, and then she'd be singin' up over head, so that she seemed to fill a house chock full o' music.
As this voracious blood-lover took his fill around the straight ankles of the hostess, the dainty Captain held her in his arms like an ardent lover. "Honey," sighed the woman, "my rent is due, and Jake Cannon never waits. Take Huldy and this yer new recruit, my cousin Levin Cannon, an' drive 'em to the ferry, an' watch that boy, Van Dorn: I want him broke in!
When they had grasped jaws and lever, and Elder Justice's kind voice murmured, "Mind now, Sammy. Hold firm, son; we air a-gwine to pull 'em back. Brace yo'se'f," the boy's haggard eyes sought his mother's face. "Le' me take it, Aunt Cornely," whispered Huldy, loosing the light-wood from the elder woman's hand and leaving her free.
When, in Yankee-land, some lovelorn Zeekle is notoriously sweet upon any Huldy of the rural maids, when "His heart keeps goin' pitypat, And hern goes pity Zeekle," when she is "All kind o' smily round the lips, And teary round the lashes," it is usual to describe his condition by a feline figure; he is said to "cuddle up to her like a sick kitten to a hot brick."
Farmer Hartley had been very silent since he came in, but now he seemed to feel that he must make an effort to be sociable, so he said kindly, though gravely, "I see ye're lookin' at that old dish, Huldy. 'Tis a curus old piece, 'n' that's a fact. Kin ye read the motter on it?"
"Stiddy thar!" said the farmer, making room for her on the seat beside him. "Look out for the ile-can, Huldy! Bought out the hull shop, hev ye? Wal, I sh'll look for gret things the next few days. Huddup thar, Nancy!" And they went jingling back along the street again. As they passed the queer little shops, with their antiquated signboards, the farmer had something to say about each one.
"Oh, my po' chile, my po' little Huldy! Whar? His own place! My law! whar? Whar has he drug that little soul?" An intuition flashed into Pap Overholt's mind. He grasped his wife's arm. "W'y, Cornely," he cried, "hit's that cabin on The Bench! Don't ye know, honey? I give him that land when he was sixteen year old, time he brung the prize home from the school down in the settlemint." "The Bench!
'Cause Perry seen Cap'n Abe himself that night when he took the chest away. That was ridic'lous. But then, Huldy Baker ain't got right good sense, nor never had. "But it stands to reason Cap'n Abe had no intent of shipping aboard any craft with sich dunnage in his chest as they say was in it." "No-o. I suppose that is so," admitted Louise. "Then, what's become of the poor man?" Betty ejaculated.
"Never mind, Jacob!" she said; "I'm spry enough yet to take care of you, if I can't jump as well as I used." "This missy's trunk?" continued the farmer. "Let me see! What's missy's name now? Huldy, ain't it! Little Huldy! 'Pears to me that's what they used to call ye when ye was here before."
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