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Updated: May 24, 2025
I'll wring the rascal's neck for forgettin' S'lome. Why, man, she's the pride of this farm, and the queen of every heart on it! S'lome? Who's S'lome? Ask any nigger or dog in the county, and they'll tell you. She's our 'dopted daughter, man, off to Bellwood for her second year, and'll be home the fifth of June, God bless her!"
When S'lome gets back, things'll be different. She's a whole houseful herself." I almost dropped the piece of ham I was conveying to my mouth. Had Reuben betrayed me! What did this talk of "mother" and "Salome" mean? When he first spoke the word "mother," I had paid no particular attention to it; but when coupled with that other name, it took a deeper meaning.
He was a poor fellow, and had no business marryin' when he did. His wife, highly connected, but without any near relations, was killed in a railway accident. Their little girl, who had been born six months before, escaped unhurt. Bob was a Kentuckian, from the soles of his feet up, and one day, when S'lome was only three years old, he was shot by a coward for defending a woman's good name.
Then those who had been called together to welcome her gave cheer after cheer, and waved their hands and hats above their heads. "Hi, Miss S'lome!" from a sturdy field hand. "Hi, baby!" from an old mammy. "Howdy, Missus!" from a housemaid. "Hi, Mi' 'Ome!" from a pickaninny in arms. And so the welcome greetings fell upon her. And from out the pandemonium a high, sweet voice thrilled into my ears.
It may be that you don't like young girls much, seein' that you've never married, but there'll be a kind spot in your heart for S'lome when you hear 'bout her. You see, it began away back yonder when I was a young fellow at school. Bob Summerton was a classmate of mine, and my best friend. His one prevailin' weakness was a woman's pretty face.
"You're so everlastingly fond of running over all creation, and he has the rovingest disposition I ever saw. Goin' down to salt those sheep this mornin', S'lome?" "Yes, sir. I made a compact with Mr. Stone last night to act as my esquire on all my expeditions. You've often said I should have some one to go along with me."
"I I I understood you had no children," I said, trying to conceal my dismay by bending over my plate. "Quite true, quite true, Stone. We've never had a child born to us. I got in the habit of calling the boss mother, from S'lome." "Who is Salome?" I asked, but my voice was so weak that it scarcely conveyed the question. "Bless me! didn't Walker tell you?
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