Southern Lights and Shadows Part 8

"Come, let me feel, dearie," said the old lady, softly, turning her sightless eyes toward the girl, hearing her movements in her direction.

"Ya'as, gra'mammy," and stepping nearer, she knelt at her grandmother's feet, and leaning forward, rested her hands lightly on her shoulders.

The old wrinkled hands groped their way to the girl's face, thence downward, over her arms, her waist, to the skirt of her dress.

"It feels nice, dearie, 'n' I know it looks nice."

"I'm glad ye like it, gra'mammy," said the girl, gently.

"Air ye spectin' comp'ny, dearie, that ye're all dressed up so nice? 'Pears like ye wouldn't put on yer new frock lest ye wer'."

Noting the girl's hesitation, the old lady said, softly, "Whisper 'n' tell gra'-mammy who's er-comin'"; and Mandy Calline, with an additional shade to the red in her cheeks, leaned forward and shyly whispered a name in her grandmother's ear.

A satisfactory smile broke like suns.h.i.+ne over the kind old face, and she murmured: "He's come o' good fambly, dearie. I knowed 'em all years ago.

Smart, stiddy, hard-workin', kind, well-ter-do people. I've been thinkin'

he's been er-comin' here purty stiddy, 'n' I knowed in my min' he warn't er-comin' ter see Zachariah."

Bestowing a kiss on one aged cheek and a gentle pat on the other, Mandy Calline arose to her feet, and lighting a splinter at the fire, opened the door in the part.i.tion separating the two rooms and entered the "parlor."

This room was the pride of the family, as none of the neighbors could afford one set apart specially for company.

It was the only room in the house lathed and plastered. Mother Tyler, who was truly an ambitious woman, had, however, declared in the pride of her heart that this one at least should be properly finished.

Mandy Calline, with her blazing splinter, lighted the lamp, quite a gay affair, with a gaudily painted shade, and bits of red flannel with scalloped edges floating about in the bowl.

The floor was covered with a neatly woven rag carpet of divers gay colors.

Before the hearth, which displayed a coat of red ochre, lay a home-made rug of startling pattern. The fireplace was filled with cedar boughs and sweet-smelling myrtle. Two "boughten" rocking-chairs of painted wood confronted each other primly from opposite ends of the rug. Half a dozen straight-back chairs, also "boughten," were disposed stiffly against the walls. A large folding-leaf dining-table of real mahogany, an heirloom in the family, occupied the s.p.a.ce between two windows, and held a few scattered books.

The windows were covered with paper curtains of a pale blue tint. In the centre of each a festive couple, a youth and damsel, of apparently Bohemian type, with clasped hands held high, disported themselves in a frantic dance. These pictures were considered by the entire neighborhood as resting triumphantly on the top round of the ladder of art.

Both parlor and sitting-room opened on a narrow piazza on the front of the house, Father Tyler not caring to waste s.p.a.ce in a hall or pa.s.sage.

Mandy Calline had flicked a bit of imaginary dust from the polished surface of the table, had set a bit straighter, if that were possible, one or two of the chairs, and turned up the lamp a trifle higher, when "Little Jim"

opened the door leading out on the piazza, and in tones of suppressed excitement half whispered, "He's er-comin', Mandy Calline; Zeke's er-comin'; he's nigh 'bout ter th' gate."

"Go 'long, Jim, 'n' shet up; ye allers knows more'n the law allows," said his sister; but she glanced quickly and shyly out of the door.

Mr. Ezekiel White was just entering the gate. He was undoubtedly gotten up at vast expense for the occasion. A suit of store clothes of a startling plaid adorned his lanky figure, and a pair of new shoes cramped his feet in the most approved style. A new felt hat rested lightly on his well-oiled hair. But the crowning glory was a flaming red necktie which flowed in blazing magnificence over his s.h.i.+rt front.

Jeff, the yard dog, barked in neighborly fas.h.i.+on, as though yelping a greeting to a frequent visitor whom he recognized as a favored one.

"Susan Jane," said the father, "step ter th' door 'n' see who Jeff's er-barkin' at."

Eagerly the girl dropped her knitting and hastened to reconnoitre, curious herself.

"It's Zeke White," she replied, returning to her work.

"I knowed Mandy Calline was spectin' him," muttered Ann Elisabeth, under her breath.

Father Tyler arose and sauntered to the door, calling out: "You Jeff, ef ye don't stop that barkin'--Come here this minit, sir! Good-evenin', Zekle; come in."

"Good-evenin", Mr. Tyler. "Is Zachariah ter home?"

"I dun'no'. Malviny, is Zachariah erroun' anywher's 'at ye know of?"

"I dun'no'; I hain't seed 'im sence supper."

"I know," piped up "Little Jim." "He said es he was er-goin' ter Bill Jackson's. But, Zeke," he added, in a hurried aside, catching hold of the visitor's coat in his eagerness, "Mandy Calline's ter home, 'n' she's fixed up ter kill!"

At this juncture Mandy Calline herself appeared in the doorway, striving to look calmly indifferent at everything in general and nothing in particular; but the expression in her bright black eyes was s.h.i.+fty, and the color in her cheeks vied with that of the bow on her hair; and by this time Zekle's entire anatomy exposed to view shared the tint of his brilliant necktie.

"Good-evenin', Zekle," said the girl, bravely a.s.suming a calm superiority to all embarra.s.sment and confusion. "Will ye come in th' parlor, er had ye ruther set out on th' piazza?"

Zekle was wise; he knew that "Little Jim" dare not intrude on the sacred precincts of the parlor, and he answered, "I'd jest es live set in th'

parlor, of it's all th' same ter you."

"Ya'as, I'd jest es live," she replied, and led the way into the room; he followed, and sat down in rather constrained fas.h.i.+on on the chair nearest the door, deposited his hat on the floor beside him, took from his pocket and unfolded with a flirt an immense bandanna handkerchief, highly redolent of cheap cologne, and proceeded to mop his face with it.

"It's ruther warm," he observed.

"Ya'as," she replied, from a rocking-chair in the corner facing him. Here there was a long pause, and presently she added, "Pappy said es how he tho't it mought rain in er day er two."

The family in the sitting-room had settled down, the door being closed between that room and the parlor.

"There, mother, gi' Thaney ter me," said Mother Tyler. "I know ye're tired holdin' of her, fer she ain't no light weight," and she lifted the little one away.

"Heigho, Thaney, air ye erwake yit?" questioned the father.

"Erwake! Ya'as, 'n' likely ter be," said the mother. "Thaney's one o' th'

setters-up, she is."

"Give 'er ter me, Malviny. Don't pappy's gal want er ride on pappy's foot?

See 'ere, now! Whoopee!" and placing the plump little body astride his foot, the leg of which crossed the other, and clasping the baby hands in his, he tossed her up and down till she crowed and laughed in a perfect abandon of baby glee. A smiling audience looked on in joyous sympathy with the baby's pleasure, the old gra'mammy murmuring softly, "It's like feelin'

the suns.h.i.+ne ter hear her laugh!"

"There, pappy," said Mother Tyler, anxiously, "that'll do; ye're goin' ter git 'er so wide-erwake there'll be no doin' er thing with 'er. Come, now, Thaney, let mammy put ye down here on yer quilt. Come, come, I _know_ ye've forgot that ole b.u.g.g.e.r-man that stays up th' chimbly 'n' ketches bad gals!

There, now, that's mammy's nice gal. Git 'er playthings fer 'er, Susan Jane. Jim, don't ye go ter sleep there in that door. Ha' ye washed yer feet?"

"No, 'm," came drowsily from the doorway.

"Why upon th' yeth do ye wait every blessed night ter be told ter wash yer feet? Go straight 'n' wash 'em, 'n' then go ter bed. Come, gals, knit ter th' middle 'n' put up yer knittin'; it's time for all little folks ter go ter sleep 'n' look for ter-morrer. 'Pears like Thaney's goin' ter look fer it with eyes wide open."

"Malviny, ye'll have ter toe up my knittin' fer me, Monday; I've got it down ter th' narrerin', 'n' I can't do no more," came softly from gra'mammy's corner.

"Ya'as, mother, I will; I could ha' toed it up this evenin' es well es not, tho' ef I had, ye'd ha' started ernuther, 'n' ye'd need ter rest; ye're allers knittin'."

"Ya'as, but, darter, it's all I kin do; 'n' I'm so thankful I kin feel ter knit, fer th' hardest work is ter set wi' folded han's doin' nothin'."