United States or Gambia ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"Shade whar's Johnnie?" panted Mandy, shaking him by the arm. "I been up to the house, and she ain't thar. Pap ain't thar, neither. I was skeered to name my business to Laurelly; Aunt Mavity ain't no help and, and Shade whar's Johnnie?" Buckheath looked down into her working, tragic face and his mouth hardened. "She ain't at home," he said finally. "I've been at Himes's all evening.
Pap felt an altogether misplaced confidence in the view that Stoddard, as a male, was likely to take of the matter. "A man is obliged to be boss of his own family ain't that so, Mr. Stoddard?" he demanded. "I said the chillen had to go into the mill, and into the mill they went. They all wanted to go, at the start, and Laurelly agreed with me that hit was the right thing.
"Laurelly," the nurse hesitated, "I wouldn't name it to ye whilst ye was a-sufferin, but I jest cain't find the baby's clothes nowhars. I've done washed the little trick and wrapped her in my flannen petticoat. I do despise to put anything on 'em that anybody else has wore ... hit don't seem right. But I've been plumb through everything, an' cain't find none of her coats. Whar did you put 'em?"
"I 'lowed you'd git Billy Spinner's, an' hit's as good as new." Uncle Pros set the small article of furniture down gently. "Don't you worry yo'se'f, Laurelly," he said enthusiastically. Pros Passmore, uncle of the sick woman and mainstay of the forlorn little Consadine household, was always full of enthusiasm.
I'm a old man, and when I married Laurelly and took the keepin' o' her passel o' chaps on my back, I aimed to make it pay. Laurelly, she won't work." He looked helplessly at Stoddard, like a child about to cry. "She told me up and down that she never had worked in no mill, and she was too old to l'arn.
And thar's Laurelly light-minded fool ain't got the sense she was born with up thar without Pros nor Johnnie I could persuade her to take off her head and play pitch-ball with it Lord, yes!" "Well, you've bragged about enough," put in Buckheath grimly. "You git down in the collar and pull." The old man gave him no heed. He was still grinning fatuously.
"Now, Laurelly now Laurelly," Pap quavered in tones none other had ever heard from him, "don't you talk about dyin'. You look as young as Johnnie this minute. I'll git you what you want. Lord, I'll have Dawson build the chimbley big enough for you to keep house in, if them's yo' ruthers."
"Never you mind, Laurelly," he called cheerfully. "Wrop the baby up some fashion, and I'll hike out and get clothes for her, time I mend this cradle." "Ef that ain't just like Unc' Pros!" And the girlish mother laughed out suddenly. You saw the gypsy beauty of her face. "He ain't content with borryin' men's truck, but thinks he can turn in an' borry coats 'mongst the women.
"Huh!" grunted the old man. "Marryin' a fool gal or any other woman ain't nothin' to do. If I was your age I'd have her Miz Himes before sundown." "All right," said Buckheath, "if it's so damn' easy done this here marryin' do some of it yourself. Thar's Laurelly Consadine; she's a widow; and more kin to Pros than Johnnie is.
I forgot you don't know of course you don't," broke in Johnnie with a sudden dismay in her voice. "I ought to have told you that mother" she hesitated and looked at the old man "mother isn't up at the cabin any more. I left her in Cottonville this morning." "Cottonville!" echoed Pros in surprise. Then he added, "O' course, she came down to take care o' me when I was hurt. That's like Laurelly.
Word Of The Day