The Colonel's Dream Part 18

"Jeff rub' 'is eyes, ter see ef he wuz 'wake, an w'iles he sot dere wond'rin' whar de hole wuz dat dat ole cat come in at, fus' thing he knowed, de ole cat wuz settin' right up 'side of 'im, on de table, wid his tail quirled up roun' de lamp chimbly.

"Jeff look' at de black cat, an' de black cat look' at Jeff. Den de black cat open his mouf an' showed 'is teef, an' sezee----"

"'Good evenin'!'

"'Good evenin' suh,' 'spon' Jeff, trimblin' in de knees, an' kind'er edgin' 'way fum de table.

"'Dey ain' n.o.body hyuh but you an' me, is dey?' sez de black cat, winkin' one eye.

"'No, suh,' sez Jeff, as he made fer de do', _'an' quick ez I kin git out er hyuh, dey ain' gwine ter be n.o.body hyuh but you!_'"

"Is that all, Uncle Peter?" asked Phil, when the old man came to a halt with a prolonged chuckle.

"Huh?"

"Is that all?"

"No, dey's mo' er de tale, but dat's ernuff ter prove dat black cats kin do mo' dan little w'ite boys 'low dey kin."

"Did Jeff go away?"

"Did he go 'way! Why, chile, he jes' flew away! Befo' he got ter de do', howsomevuh, he 'membered he had locked it, so he didn' stop ter try ter open it, but went straight out'n a winder, quicker'n lightnin', an' kyared de sash 'long wid 'im. An' he'd be'n in sech pow'ful has'e dat he knock' de lamp over an' lack ter sot de house afire. He nevuh got de yuther fo' dollahs of co'se, 'ca'se he didn't stay in de ole ha'nted house all night, but he 'lowed he'd sho'ly 'arned de one dollah he'd had a'ready."

"Why didn't he want to talk to the black cat, Uncle Peter?"

"Why didn' he wan' ter talk ter de black cat? Whoever heared er sich a queshtun! He didn' wan' ter talk wid no black cat, 'ca'se he wuz skeered. Black cats brings 'nuff bad luck w'en dey doan' talk, let 'lone w'en dey does."

"I should like," said Phil, reflectively, "to talk to a black cat. I think it would be great fun."

"Keep away f'm 'em, chile, keep away f'm 'em. Dey is some things too deep fer little boys ter projec' wid, an' black cats is one of 'em."

They moved down the stream and were soon having better luck.

"Uncle Peter," said Phil, while they were on their way home, "there couldn't be any ha'nts at all in the graveyard where my grandfather is buried, could there? Graciella read a lot of the tombstones to me one day, and they all said that all the people were good, and were resting in peace, and had gone to heaven. Tombstones always tell the truth, don't they, Uncle Peter?"

"Happen so, honey, happen so! De French tombstones does; an' as ter de res', I ain' gwine to 'spute 'em, nohow, fer ef I did, de folks under 'em mought come back an' ha'nt me, jes' fer spite."

_Seventeen_

By considerable effort, and a moderate outlay, the colonel at length secured a majority of interest in the Eureka mill site and made application to the State, through Caxton, for the redemption of the t.i.tle. The opposition had either ceased or had proved ineffective.

There would be some little further delay, but the outcome seemed practically certain, and the colonel did not wait longer to set in motion his plans for the benefit of Clarendon.

"I'm told that Fetters says he'll get the mill anyway," said Caxton, "and make more money buying it under foreclosure than by building a new one. He's ready to lend on it now."

"Oh, d.a.m.n Fetters!" exclaimed the colonel, elated with his victory. He had never been a profane man, but strong language came so easy in Clarendon that one dropped into it unconsciously. "The mill will be running on full time when Fetters has been put out of business. We've won our first fight, and I've never really seen the fellow yet."

As soon as the t.i.tle was reasonably secure, the colonel began his preparations for building the cotton mill. The first step was to send for a New England architect who made a specialty of mills, to come down and look the site over, and make plans for the dam, the mill buildings and a number of model cottages for the operatives. As soon as the estimates were prepared, he looked the ground over to see how far he could draw upon local resources for material.

There was good brick clay on the outskirts of the town, where bricks had once been made; but for most of the period since the war such as were used in the town had been procured from the ruins of old buildings--it was cheaper to clean bricks than to make them. Since the construction of the railroad branch to Clarendon the few that were needed from time to time were brought in by train. Not since the building of the Opera House block had there been a kiln of brick made in the town. Inquiry brought out the fact that in case of a demand for bricks there were brickmakers thereabouts; and in accordance with his general plan to employ local labour, the colonel looked up the owner of the brickyard, and asked if he were prepared to take a large contract.

The gentleman was palpably troubled by the question.

"Well, colonel," he said, "I don't know. I'd s'posed you were goin' to impo't yo' bricks from Philadelphia."

"No, Mr. Barnes," returned the colonel, "I want to spend the money here in Clarendon. There seems to be plenty of unemployed labour."

"Yes, there does, till you want somethin' done; then there ain't so much. I s'pose I might find half a dozen n.i.g.g.e.rs round here that know how to make brick; and there's several more that have moved away that I can get back if I send for them. If you r'al'y think you want yo'r brick made here, I'll try to get them out for you. They'll cost you, though, as much, if not more than, you'd have to pay for machine-made bricks from the No'th."

The colonel declared that he preferred the local product.

"Well, I'm sh.o.r.e I don't see why," said the brickmaker. "They'll not be as smooth or as uniform in colour."

"They'll be Clarendon brick," returned the colonel, "and I want this to be a Clarendon enterprise, from the ground up."

"Well," said Barnes resignedly, "if you must have home-made brick, I suppose I'll have to make 'em. I'll see what I can do."

Colonel French then turned the brick matter over to Caxton, who, in the course of a week, worried Barnes into a contract to supply so many thousand brick within a given time.

"I don't like that there time limit," said the brickmaker, "but I reckon I can make them brick as fast as you can get anybody roun' here to lay 'em."

When in the course of another week the colonel saw signs of activity about the old brickyard, he proceeded with the next step, which was to have the ruins of the old factory cleared away.

"Well, colonel," said Major McLean one day when the colonel dropped into the hotel, where the Major hung out a good part of the time, "I s'pose you're goin' to hire white folks to do the work over there."

"Why," replied the colonel, "I hadn't thought about the colour of the workmen. There'll be plenty, I guess, for all who apply, so long as it lasts."

"You'll have trouble if you hire n.i.g.g.e.rs," said the major. "You'll find that they won't work when you want 'em to. They're not reliable, they have no sense of responsibility. As soon as they get a dollar they'll lay off to spend it, and leave yo' work at the mos' critical point."

"Well, now, major," replied the colonel, "I haven't noticed any unnatural activity among the white men of the town. The Negroes have to live, or seem to think they have, and I'll give 'em a chance to turn an honest penny. By the way, major, I need a superintendent to look after the work. It don't require an expert, but merely a good man--gentleman preferred--whom I can trust to see that my ideas are carried out. Perhaps you can recommend such a person?"

The major turned the matter over in his mind before answering. He might, of course, offer his own services. The pay would doubtless be good. But he had not done any real work for years. His wife owned their home. His daughter taught in the academy. He was drawn on jury nearly every term; was tax a.s.sessor now and then, and a judge or clerk of elections upon occasion. Nor did he think that steady employment would agree with his health, while it would certainly interfere with his pleasant visits with the drummers at the hotel.

"I'd be glad to take the position myself, colonel," he said, "but I r'aly won't have the time. The campaign will be hummin' in a month or so, an' my political duties will occupy all my leisure. But I'll bear the matter in mind, an' see if I can think of any suitable person."

The colonel thanked him. He had hardly expected the major to offer his services, but had merely wished, for the fun of the thing, to try the experiment. What the colonel really needed was a good foreman--he had used the word "superintendent" merely on the major's account, as less suggestive of work. He found a poor white man, however, Green by name, who seemed capable and energetic, and a gang of labourers under his charge was soon busily engaged in clearing the mill site and preparing for the foundations of a new dam. When it was learned that the colonel was paying his labourers a dollar and a half a day, there was considerable criticism, on the ground that such lavishness would demoralise the labour market, the usual daily wage of the Negro labourer being from fifty to seventy-five cents. But since most of the colonel's money soon found its way, through the channels of trade, into the pockets of the white people, the criticism soon died a natural death.

_Eighteen_

Once started in his career of active benevolence, the colonel's natural love of thoroughness, combined with a philanthropic zeal as pleasant as it was novel, sought out new reforms. They were easily found. He had begun, with wise foresight, at the foundations of prosperity, by planning an industry in which the people could find employment. But there were subtler needs, mental and spiritual, to be met. Education, for instance, so important to real development, languished in Clarendon. There was a select private school for young ladies, attended by the daughters of those who could not send their children away to school. A few of the town boys went away to military schools. The remainder of the white youth attended the academy, which was a thoroughly democratic inst.i.tution, deriving its support partly from the public school fund and partly from private subscriptions.

There was a coloured public school taught by a Negro teacher. Neither school had, so far as the colonel could learn, attained any very high degree of efficiency. At one time the colonel had contemplated building a schoolhouse for the children of the mill hands, but upon second thought decided that the expenditure would be more widely useful if made through the channels already established. If the old academy building were repaired, and a wing constructed, for which there was ample room upon the grounds, it would furnish any needed additional accommodation for the children of the operatives, and avoid the drawing of any line that might seem to put these in a cla.s.s apart.

There were already lines enough in the town--the deep and distinct colour line, theoretically all-pervasive, but with occasional curious exceptions; the old line between the "rich white folks" or aristocrats--no longer rich, most of them, but retaining some of their former wealth and clinging tenaciously to a waning prestige--and the "poor whites," still at a social disadvantage, but gradually evolving a solid middle cla.s.s, with reinforcements from the decaying aristocracy, and producing now and then some ambitious and successful man like Fetters. To emphasise these distinctions was no part of the colonel's plan. To eradicate them entirely in any stated time was of course impossible, human nature being what it was, but he would do nothing to accentuate them. His mill hands should become, like the mill hands in New England towns, an intelligent, self-respecting and therefore respected element of an enlightened population; and the whole town should share equally in anything he might spend for their benefit.