The Starbucks Part 2

"Why did they come here? What are they doin'?"

"Gimmy time. Da come caze da wanter ter, an' now dat da's yere, da's jest er bo'din'; dat's all."

"You are an old fool."

"Yas, suh," replied Kintchin, "dat's whut I yere."

Mammy came in and said to Kintchin, "De steers broke down de fence an'

is eatin' up de co'n. See, through de winder?"

"Dat won't do," Kintchin exclaimed with hurry in his voice but with pa.s.sive feet. "No, it won't do. Steer ain't got no right ter come roun'

er eatin' up de co'n."

"But w'y doan you go on, man? Mars Jasper'll git arter you."

"I's gwine. Allus suthin' ter make er man work his j'ints," he moved off toward the door, and turning just before going out, said to Peters: "Yere come Miss Lou now."

The girl came in singing, but seeing Peters, hushed, and turned to go out.

"One minute, Miss Lou," said Peters, bowing awkwardly.

She halted, looked at him and said, "Well?"

"Won't you sit down," said Peters, making a great show of politeness.

"I'm not tired," Lou replied.

Peters smiled. "I've got suthin' I want to say to you."

"Then I may be tired," she said, sitting down. "Well?"

Peters stood for a moment, looking at her and then inquired: "Did yo'

father tell you suthin' I said to him?"

Slowly rocking she looked up at him. "He always has enough talk of his own without repeatin' what other folks say."

"But what I told him was about you."

"Well, if what you said wasn't good you wouldn't be here to tell about it, so it don't concern me."

He attempted to smile, but failed. "I don't know about that."

"You don't know about anything--much."

"Enough to know what I think of you."

"Hope you know what I think of you."

"Ah," said Peters, "I don't reckon you think of me very often."

Lou got up and went to him, looked straight into his eyes and said: "Think of you! Why, I never know you are on earth till you come where I am and then I spend my time tryin' to forget you are there."

"Well, now," replied Peters, "that ain't very polite."

She stepped back and looked at him in pretended astonishment. "Was anybody ever polite to you?"

"Well, not many of the Starbucks, that's a fact--none, come to think of it 'cept yo' cousin Jim, the preacher, and he believes that the Lord made all things for a purpose."

"Yes, he believes that G.o.d made the devil."

Peters laughed as if he really enjoyed her contempt of him. He pulled at his whiskers, cleared his throat, took a turn about the room and looking at her again, he appeared as if he had attempted to soften his countenance with a sentiment urgently summoned. "Yes, that is all true, I reckon. And now let me tell you. I mout not look like it--like I'm hard to please, but I am. Thar ain't one woman out of a hundred that can make me wake up when I'm sleepy and think about her, but you can. And ever sense you was a child I've said I'd never marry till I could git you." He saw the anger in her eyes and hesitated. "Ah, you may not think very much of me now," he continued, "but that can all be changed. A woman's like a mornin' glory flower--always a changing; an' I know you could learn to love me."

"Oh, you do. Well, what you know and what's the truth won't never know each other well enough to shake hands."

Peters smiled upon her, "Wall, if nuthin' else did, that of itself would prove you air old Jasper's daughter."

Margaret Starbuck came in, with a pan of turnips. Peters bowed to her.

"Er good mornin', ma'm."

She put the pan on the table and giving him an unconscious grace bade him good morning. "Is mammy done ironin'?" she asked, speaking to Lou.

"Yes'm, I reckon so." Then she added, speaking to Peters, "Is there anythin' else you wanted?"

"Why, Lou," Margaret spoke up, "is that the way to talk?"

"Yes'm, sometimes," and nodding at Peters she added: "And this is one of them." She laughed, turned away and sat down with her elbows resting on a battered old melodeon.

"Oh, she's jest a jokin' with me ma'm," said Peters. "I wanted to see yo' husband. Reckon he's out some whar on the place."

"I think so," Margaret replied, peeling the turnips. "I heard him calling the hogs just now."

Lou looked at Peters and said: "Then why don't you go?"

"Why, daughter," exclaimed Margaret, "you musn't talk that way. Mr.

Peters is in yo' house."

She came forward and to the visitor bowed with mock humility. "I beg your pardon, Mr. Peters--"

"Oh, that's all right, Miss Lou."

"For bein' honest with you."

Peters cleared his throat. She returned to the melodeon and sat down with her back toward him. Peters started out but halted and spoke to Margaret. "Suthin' I have been workin' fur a long time is about to come--an app'intment I've been tryin' to git, and when I git it there air folks that ought to be skeered."

Lou glanced round at him and replied, "And then again, there are folks that won't be."

"Ah," said Peters, "an' them that won't be air them that ought to be."

And then to Margaret he added: "If I don't find Jasper I'll be back.