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"'Why oh, 'leven', s'I, 'that ain't a name at all. That's a number. "'I know it, s'she, indiffer'nt, 'that was me. I was the 'leventh, an' they'd run out a'ready. "'For the land, s'I, simple. "An' that just about summed her up. They seemed to 'a' run out o' everything, time she come. "She hadn't been taught a thing but eat an' drink. Them was her only arts.
Sister March, s'I, 'let me go tell him! And s'she, jestingly, 'Go if you think it's safe. So here I am!" The old man laughed timorously. "Well?" John kept his hands in his lap, where each was trying to wrench the fingers off the other. "What is it?" "Why, John, the Lawd has provided! For one thing and even that the smallest, Sister March's Widewood lands air as good as hers again!"
"'Huh? s'she, intelligent as the back o' somethin'. "'You, I says, 'are some bigger an' some stronger'n me. What you goin' to give me? "Well, sir, the way she dropped her arms down sort o' hit at me, it was so kitten helpless. I took that in rather than her silly, sort o' insultin' laugh. "'I can't do nothin', she told me an' all to once I saw how it was, an' that that was what ailed her.
I ain't objectin' to good housekeepin' at all, but what I say is: Get your dust-rag big enough to wipe up somethin' besides your own dust. The Lord, He's a-housekeepin' too. "So, with that i-dee, I got above the shroud an' I begun on the woman some like she was my kitchen closet in the spring o' the year. "'What's your name? s'I. "''Leven, s'she. "'Leaven, s'I, 'like the Bible? "'Huh? s'she.
This hadn't occurred to nobody. But his wife was back at him, rill crispy. "'Timothy Toplady, s'she, 'they use churches for horspitals an' refuges, she says. "'They do, says Timothy, solemn, 'they do, in necessity, an' war, an' siege.
When I got home with it, Eb was settin' on the front stoop with Elspie, an' when he heard about the wrist, he come in an' done the lightin' up. An' Elspie, she fair su'prised me. "'Where do you keep your rags? s'she, brisk. "'In that flour chest I don't use, I says, 'in the shed.
An' there I was, plump against Elspie, standin' holdin' her arms 'round the tree trunk an' shiverin' some. "'Elspie, s'I, 'why, you poor child. "'No need to rub that in, s'she, tart. It's the one word the county charges gets sensitive about an' Eb, he seemed to sense that, an' he ask' her, hasty, how the fire started.
Like he'd looked under the situation an' see it wasn't alike on both sides. An' 't the same time Mis' Toplady, she changed her way, an', "'Timothy, s'she, 'you hungry? "'I'm nigh starved, says Timothy. 'It must be eight o'clock, s'e, 'but I ain't the heart to think o' that. "'No, s'she, 'so you ain't. Not with them poor babies in there hungrier'n you be an' nowheres to go.
I ain't even a grave to visit, s'she, 'an' it'll be kind o' cosey to come up here on the hill an' set down by the ashes like they belonged. "I know I heard Eb Goodnight laugh, kind o' cracked an' enjoyable, an' I took some shame to him for makin' fun o' the poor girl.
"With that she got done milkin' an' stood up an' picked up her two pails we could smell the sweet, warm milk from where we was. "'Timothy, s'she, 'the worst sacrilege that's done in this world is when folks turns their backs on any little bit of a chance that the Lord gives 'em to do good in, like He told 'em.
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