Sonny, a Christmas Guest Part 9

I ain't got a thing ag'in' Enoch, not a thing--not even for makin' me double my number o' candles. Mo' 'n that, I'd brighten up Sam's mind for 'im in a minute, ef I could.

I never was jealous-hearted. An' neither is Sonny.

He sent Sam a special invite to his gradj'atin' party, an' give him a seat next to hisself so's he could say "Amen" to his blessin', thess because he had missed gittin' his diplomy. Everybody there knowed why he done it.

But talkin' about Sonny being "raised," I told Miss Phoebe thet we'd _haf_ to stop sayin' it about _him_, right or wrong, ez a person can't raise nothin' higher 'n what he is hisself, an Sonny's taller 'n either wife or me, an' he ain't but sixteen. Ef we raised 'im partly, we must 'a' sent 'im up the rest o' the way. It's a pleasure to pa.s.s a little joke with Miss Phoebe; she's got sech a good ear to ketch their p'ints.

But, come to growin', Sonny never asked n.o.body no odds. He thess stayed stock-still ez long ez he found pleasure in bein' a little runt, an'

then he humped hisself an' shot up same ez a sparrer-gra.s.s stalk. It gives me pleasure to look up to him the way I haf to.

Fact is, he always did require me to look _up_ to 'im, even when I looked _down_ at 'im.

Yas, sir; ez I said, Sonny has commenced keepin'

company,--outspoke,--an' I can't say thet I'm opposed to it, though some would say he was a little young, maybe. I know when I was his age I had been in love sev'al times. Of co'se these first little puppy-dog loves, why, th' ain't no partic'lar harm in 'em--less'n they're opposed.

An' we don't lay out to oppose Sonny--not in nothin' thet he'll attemp'--after him bein' raised an' guided up to this age.

There goes that word "raisin'" agi'n.

He's been in love with his teacher, Miss Phoebe, most three years--an'

'cep'n' thet I had a sim'lar experience when I was sca'cely out o' the cradle, why, I might 'a' took it mo' serious.

That sort o' fallin' in love, why, it comes same ez the measles or the two-year-old teeth, an' th' ain't nothin' sweeter ef it's took philosophical.

It's mighty hard, though, for parents, thet knows thess how recent a child is, to reconcile the facts o' the case with sech things ez him takin' notice to the color o' ribbin on a middle-aged school-teacher's hair--an' it sprinkled with gray.

Sonny was worse plegged than most boys, because, havin' two lady teachers at that time, it took him sort o' duplicated like.

I suppose ef he'd had another, he'd 'a' been equally distributed on all three.

The way I look at it, a sensible, serious-minded woman thet starts out to teach school--which little fellers they ain't got no sense on earth, nohow--ain't got no business with ribbin-bows an' ways an' moles on their cheek-bones. An' ef they've got knuckles, they ought to be like wife's or mine, pointed outward for useful service, instid o' bein'

turned inside out to attract a young child's admiration--not thet I hold it against Miss Phoebe thet her knuckles is reversed. Of co'se she can't be very strong-fingered. No finger could git much purchase on a dimple.

'T ain't none of her fault, I know. But Sonny has seen the day thet seem like he couldn't talk about another thing but her an' her dimpled knuckles--them an' that little brown mole thet sets out on the aidge of her eyebrow.

I think myself thet that mole looks right well, for a blemish, which wife says it is, worst kind. But of co'se a child couldn't be expected to know that. It did seem a redic'lous part o' speech the first time he mentioned sech a thing to his mother, but a boy o' twelve couldn't be expected to know the difference between a mountain an' a mole-hill.

I ricollec' he used to talk in his sleep consider'ble when he was a little chap, an' it always fretted wife turrible. She'd git up out o'

bed thess ez soon ez he'd begin to hold fo'th, an' taller him over.

Whenever she didn't seem to know what else to do, why, she'd taller him; an' I don't reckon there's anything less injurious to a child, asleep or awake, _than_ taller.

She's tallored him for his long division, an' she's tallered him for that blemish on Miss Phoebe's cheek, an' she's tallered him for clairin'

of his th'oat. His other lady teacher, Miss Alviry Sawyer, she was a single-handed maiden lady long'bout wife's age, an' she didn't have a feature on earth thet a friend would seem to have a right to mention, she not bein' to blame; but she had a way o' clairin' her th'oat, sort o' polite, befo' she'd open her mouth to speak. Sonny, he seemed to think it was mighty graceful the way she done it, an' he's often imitated it in his little sleep--nights when he'd eat hot waffles for his supper.

An' wife she'd always jump up an' git the mutton taller. I never took it serious myself, 'cause I know how a triflin' thing 'll sometimes turn a level-headed little chap into a drizzlin' ejiot. I been there myself.

But th' ain't no danger in it, not less'n he's made a laughin'-stalk of--which is cruelty to animals, an' shouldn't be allowed.

I know when I went to school up here at Sandy Cri'k, forty year ago, I was teached by a certain single lady that has subsequently died a nachel death of old age an' virtuous works, an' in them days she wo'e a knitted collar, an' long curls both sides of her face; an' I've seen many a night, after the candle was out, thet she'd appear befo' me. She'd seem to come an' hang over my bed-canopy same ez a chandelier, with them side curls all a-jinglin' like cut-gla.s.s dangles. It's true, she used mostly to appear with a long peach-switch in her hand, but that was nachel enough, that bein' the way she most gen'ally approached me in life.

But of co'se I come th'oo without taller. My mother had thirteen of us, an' ef she'd started anointin' us for all our little side-curled nightmares, she'd 'a' had to go to goose raisin'.

You see, in them days they used goose grease.

I never to say admired that side-curled lady much, though she's made some lastin' impressions on me. Why, I could set down now, an' make a drawin' of that knitted collar she used to wear, an' it over forty year ago. I ricollec' she was cross-eyed, too, in the eye todes the foot o'

the cla.s.s, where I'd occasionally set; an', tell the truth, it was the strongest reason for study thet I had--thess to get on to the side of her certain eye. Th' ain't anything much mo' tantalizin' to a person than uncertainty in sech matters.

She was mighty plain, an' yet some o' the boys seemed to see beauty in her. I know my brother Bob, he confided to mother once-t thet he thought she looked thess precizely like the Queen o' Sheba must'a' looked, an'

I ricollec' thet he cried bitter because mother told it out on him at the dinner-table. It was turrible cruel, but she didn't reelize.

I reckon, ef the truth was known, most of us nine has seen them side curls in our sleep. An' n.o.body but G.o.d an' his angels will ever know how many of us pa.s.sed th'oo the valley o' the shadder o' that singular-appearin' lady, or how often we notified the other eight of the fact, unbeknowinst to his audience, while they was distributed in their little trundle-beds.

I sometimes wonder ef they ain't no account took of little child'en's trials. Seems to me they ought to be a little heavenly book kep'

a-purpose; an' 't wouldn't do no harm ef earthly fathers an' mothers was occasionally allowed to look over it.

My brother Bob, him thet likened Miss Alviry to the Queen o' Sheba, always was a sensitive-minded child, an' we all knowed it, too; and yet, we never called him a thing for months after that but Solomon. We ought to've been whupped good for it.

Bob ain't never married, an' for a bachelor person of singular habits, he's kep' ez warm a heart ez ever I see.

I've often deplo'ed him not marryin'. In fact, sense I see what comfort is to be took in a child, why, I deplo' all the singular numbers--though the Lord couldn't be expected to have a supply on hand thess like Sonny to distribute 'round on demand.

But I doubt ef parents knows the difference.

I've noticed thet when they can't take pleasure in extry smartness in a child, why, they make it up in tracin' resemblances. I suppose they's parental comfort to be took to in all kinds o' babies. I know I've seen some dull-eyed ones thet seemed like ez ef they wasn't nothin' for 'em to do _but_ resemble.

But talkin' about Sonny a-fallin' in love with his teachers, why, they was a time here when he wanted to give away every thing in the house to first one an' then the other. The first we noticed of it was him tellin'

us how nice Miss Alviry thought his livers and gizzards was. Now, everybody knows thet they ain't been a chicken thet has died for our nourishment sence Sonny has cut his eye-teeth but has give up its vitals to him, an' give 'em willin'ly, they bein' the parts of his choice; an'

it was discouragin', after killin' a useless number o' chickens to git enough to pack his little lunch-bucket, to have her eat 'em up--an' she forty year old ef she's a day, an' he not got his growth yet. An' yet, a chicken liver is thess one o' them little things thet a person couldn't hardly th'ow up to a school-teacher 'thout seemin' small-minded.

I never did make no open objection to him givin' away anything to his teachers tell the time he taken a notion to give Miss Phoebe the plush alb.u.m out o' the parlor. We was buyin' it on instalments at twenty-five cents a week, and it wasn't fully installed at the time, an' I told him it wouldn't never do to give away what wasn't ours.

When it comes to principle, why, I always take a stand. I thought likely by the time it was ours in full he'd've recovered from his attackt, an'

be willin' for his ma to keep it; an' he was.

An' besides, sence his pet squir'l has done chawed the plush clean off one corner of it, he says he wouldn't part with it for nothin'. Of co'se a beast couldn't be expected to reelize the importance o' plush. An'

that's what seems to tickle Sonny so.

We had bought it chiefly on his account, so ez to git 'im accustomed to seein' handsome things around, so thet when he goes out into the world he won't need to be fl.u.s.tered by finery.

Wife she's been layin' by egg money all spring to buy a swingin', silver-plated ice-pitcher, so he'll feel at home with sech things, an'

capable of walkin' up to one an' tiltin' it unconcerned, which is more'n I can do _to this day_. I always feel like ez ef I ought to go home an'

put on my Sunday clo'es befo' I can approach one of 'em.

Sech ez that has to be worked into a person's const.i.tution in youth.

The motions of a gourd-dipper, kep' in constant practice for years, is mighty hard to reverse.

How does that look now, doctor? Yas; I think so, too. It's tied in a right good bow for a ten-thumbed man, which I sh.o.r.ely am, come to fingerin' ribbin.

He chose blue because she's got blue eyes--pore little human! Sir? _Who is she_, you say? Why, don't you know? She's Joe Wallace's little Mary Elizabeth--a nice, well-mannered child ez ever lived.