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Updated: May 11, 2025
I believed a laborer who was thrifty, efficient and industrious did not need a union to help him, arguing the union only helped the inefficient, lazy and profligate. I tried several times to get him to rest on the springhouse slab or dream couch, but his mind and temperament were too nervously active.
Thrilled and intoxicated by the cheering, Agony began to listen to the voice of the tempter in her bosom. No one would ever know that it had not really been she who had done the brave deed; not a soul knew of her lending her suit to Mary because of the mishap in the springhouse.
We might with patience and quiet have gotten a complete history of a generation of prehistoric people, but my mother, who still looked upon me as a young boy incapable of caring for himself in the company of a designing female person, and having noted our regular visits to the springhouse, rushed down unannounced with the boy's mother.
"Old Wabash is a twister for curvin' and windin' round, an' it's limestone bed half the way, an' the water's as pretty an' clear as in Maria's springhouse. An' as for trimmin', why say, Mr. Redbird, I'll jest leave it to you if she ain't all trimmed up like a woman's spring bunnit. Look at the grass a-creepin' right down till it's a trailin' in the water!
You was down in the bottom of the cyar, an' I had my back to him, and so did Johnnie, and we don't know anything about what was done ain't that so? As for you, you've already told Mr. Hardwick and the others that you was taken prisoner and detained by parties unknown. Johnnie an' me was gettin' you out of the springhouse and away in the machine.
He was the leading member of the conference certainly the brainiest and it fell to his lot to deliver the most important address of the gathering. He seemed to fancy the old springhouse, its quiet coolness and the spreading elms. Except at mealtime he did all his drinking from its cool fountain and out of the old gourd dipper, though mother insisted on sending a glass down for his service.
"Thar wasn't a wild-catter that could have a hideout safe from me. They just had to trust me. I crawled into every hole. I came mighty near seein' the end of every cave but one. And that cave was the one whar my Mammy kept her milk and butter the springhouse whar they put you in prison. Somehow, I never did think about goin' to the end of that.
The incessant sawing of harvest flies, a heavy country dinner and the afternoon glow and heat conspired to drive me into the springhouse, where the coolness and peace of the place brought a bodily laziness, and, lying down on the old stone shelf, I slept.
For the sixth, he went into his own little room and got a bottle with a stopper in it, one which he had begged from the doctor that time he was sick. Then he went to the springhouse by the well, and filled the little bottle with milk from the big can. But the seventh pocket had the strangest load of all.
They made incessant trips to the old orchard and returned with caterpillars to feed five cavernous yellow-throated mouths. One warm sultry afternoon in June I sat in my old place by the springhouse, reading Story's Equity Jurisprudence and, closing the book, enjoyed the ease and peace of the lazy, if not the righteous.
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