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Updated: June 12, 2025
Out of her cabin hurried Aunt Cindy and toward the garage, her white apron like a flag of truce flapping against the oncoming storm. He watched her put the shovel into the little wagon and pull the wagon into the blacksmith shop. The door creaked loudly as she closed it. Back to her cabin she hurried, leaning against the wind.
I wish you could hear him cuss on a Sunday jest one time, Aunt Minerva; he'd sho' make you open yo' eyes an' take in yo' sign. But Aunt Cindy don't 'low me an' Wilkes Booth Lincoln to say nothin' 't all only jest 'darn' tell we gits grown mens, an' puts on long pants." "Wilkes Booth Lincoln?" questioned his aunt. "Ain't you never hear teller him?" asked the child.
Now, it was this innocent joking on his part that started all Claude's trouble. Mrs. Smith called a couple of days later and had her joke with 'Cindy. "'Cindy, your cake's all dough." "Why, what's the matter now?" "Claude come along t'other day grinnin' from ear to ear, and some currant pie in his musstache. He had jest fixed it up with Nina.
"Dem people sees dat you got a little some'p'n, an' dey ain't gwine stop ontwell dey's bu'nt an' stoled evah blessed cent f'om you. Je'miah, don't you have nuffin' mo' to do wid 'em." "I got to, Cindy Ann." "Whut fu' you got to?" "How I gwine buil' a cabin an' a ba'n an' buy a mule less'n I deal wid 'em?" "Dah's Mas' Sam Brabant. He'd he'p you out." Jerry rose up, his eyes flashing fire.
"I expected to have a good bit of worry with her, having no cook in my kitchen, 'count of waiting for Cindy to get well and come back to me and nobody easy to pick up to do the work, but she hadn't been here a week before she was reaching out and learning house jobs.
Jerry camped that night across the road from what remained of his former dwelling. Cindy Ann and the children, worn out and worried, went to sleep in spite of themselves, but he sat there all night long, his chin between his knees, gazing at what had been his pride. Well, the beasts lay in wait for him again, and when he came to them they showed their fangs in greeting.
And she had a big family, little Cindy and the two big girls and Buck and Mart who was out somewhere and the hired man, and yes "Thar was another boy, but he was fitified," said one of the big sisters. "I beg your pardon," said the wondering Blight, but she knew that phrase wouldn't do, so she added politely: "What did you say?" "Fitified Tom has fits. He's in a asylum in the settlements."
"Me an' Wilkes Booth Lincoln ain't never wash on a Wednesday sence we's born," he protested indignantly. Billy's idea of a bath was taken from the severe weekly scrubbing which Aunt Cindy gave him with a hard washrag, and he felt that he'd rather die at once than have to bathe every day.
Her mist'ess sont her 'way 'bout th'ee o'clock en' Cindy didn' come back till atter sundown; en' she say she b'en lookin' fer de roots, dat dey didn' 'pear ter be none er dem kin' er roots fer a mile er so 'long de aidge er de swamp. "Cindy 'mence' ter git better jes' ez soon as she begun ter drink de root-tea. It wuz a monst'us good med'cine, leas'ways in her case.
When the carriage drove away at last, a row of shiny black faces was lined up each side of the avenue. All the Gibbs children were there, and Aunt Cindy's other grandchildren, with their hands full of rice. "Speed 'em well, chillun!" called old Cindy, waving her apron.
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