Molly Brown's Orchard Home Part 23

Your friend,

JO BILL.

CHAPTER XXI.

MOLLY BROWN'S ORCHARD HOME.

"Ter think er my Molly Baby back here in Kaintucky, a wedded wife with a live husband er her own! Who'd a thought it? It seems jes' a spell sence she were so teency she had to clim' on a soap box to reach up ter de dough tray ter pinch off a lil piece er yeas' dough ter make her play rolls wif, so she an' that there Kent could have a party in de ole apple tree they called ther carstle. An' now de carstle done blowed down an'

in a twinklin' of de eye, most fo' dis ole n.i.g.g.e.r could tun 'round, here is a sho nuf house whar de carstle stood an' my lil baby chile is mistress here wif a dough tray an' bis'it board er her own, an' now,"

and here Aunt Mary paused to give one of her inimitable chuckles, "she don' have ter stretch up none ter reach de table but has to ben' over right smart in de tother d'rection."

"Don't you think our bungalow is lovely?" asked Molly, who looked very pretty in her cap and ap.r.o.n as she bent over her own biscuit board cutting out tiny biscuit, the kind that Edwin liked best, ready to bake for breakfast.

"Yes, chile, it is a fittin' home for the likes of you; but fer the land's sake, don' call it no sich a name as that there! It makes me think er hants. It soun's too like b.u.g.g.e.r-boo ter me. Jes' call it house or home, but not dat scarey name what you and yo' teacher roll out so keerless like."

"All right, Aunt Mary, if you don't like bungalow, 'my teacher' and I will stop calling it that."

Molly popped the biscuit into the oven, put the sliced bacon on the griddle, tested her coffee to see if it had percolated sufficiently, got the b.u.t.ter and cream out of the refrigerator, cracked ice to put in the cantaloupe, and made a pitcher of ice water before it was time to turn the bacon.

"Sakes alive, chile, how you kin tun aroun'! That there Ca'line would a bin a hour doin' what you done 'complished in a few minutes."

Just then Professor Green came into the kitchen, hunting Molly, whom he could not let out of his sight for very long.

"Well, Aunt Mary, I am so glad to see you," and he shook hands with the old woman. "My wife tells me that you are to spend the day with us, also that your granddaughter, Kizzie, is coming to cook for us. Just look at my wife, Aunt Mary, isn't she the most beautiful wife in all the world?"

He proceeded to embrace Molly, dish towel, coffee pot and all. Molly put the coffee pot down by the ice water, dropped the dish towel into the wood box and allowed herself to be kissed, laughing gayly at the old darkey's expression of amus.e.m.e.nt.

"Oh, yes, wife, wife, wife! That's all one er these here green husbands kin say. But I see right here ef I _is_ comp'ny done come to spen' de day, I'd bes' put on a ap'on and git ter wuck. De bac'n is ready ter burn up and I 'low that there pan er baby bis'it is done to a turn. De coffee pot done het up de ice water and de ice water done took the 'roma from de coffee. Here I was a pa.s.sin' compliments on Miss Molly 'bout her swif'ness, and she actin' jes lak Ca'line! De kitchen ain't no place fer spoons, 'less they is i'on spoons to stir up de batter wif. Go 'long an'

sit down in yo' cheers. I'll bring in the victuals."

Aunt Mary was very strict with the other servants and would have reprimanded any of them severely for venturing a remark "while de white folks was eatin'," but she followed Molly and Edwin to the screened porch where the table was laid, and while they ate the very good breakfast which, thanks to her, had not burned up, the old woman entertained them with her keen observations.

"I knowed you'd be pleased wif de Jonases gourd I done planted hin' de kitchen on that arbor what Mr. Kent called by some outlandish name lak perg'low. I say I planted de gourd, which ain't ter say the wholesome truf. Yer see, gourds mus' be planted by a foolish 'ooman or a lazy, no-'count man ef you want 'em to grow fas'. I sho did want that there vine to kiver de arbor befo' you and yo' teacher got here, so I got Ca'line, who is 'thout doubt the foolishest virgin I ever seed, to plant on one side and that low down, lazy Buck Jasper to tend to tother, and you kin see fer yo'self they's meetin' overhead."

"The vine has certainly grown very rapidly," laughed the professor. "I have never heard before what were the requisites for a flouris.h.i.+ng gourd."

"Well, I ain't a-sayin' that part of its comin' on so well ain't due to the haid work that old Mary Morton put on it. I bossed them free n.i.g.g.e.rs till they done disremembered they was 'manc.i.p.ated."

"What would you say, Aunt Mary, if Kent should bring a wife back to Chatsworth?" asked Molly.

"Well, if it is that there Judy gal, I'd say, 'Glory be!' She's sho jes'

lak our own folks, if she do say her ma and pa ain't never owned they own home, but always been renters. That don' sound zactly lak quality, but since the war, that ain't sich a sho sign as it uster be. You see plenty er po' white trash now a-ownin' fine homes and de quality rentin'

nothin' mo' than cabins."

"Well, Judy is the gal I mean, Aunt Mary, and I fancy they will come to live with Mother at Chatsworth."

"Don' it beat all how Miss Milly's daughters is marryin' out and her sons a-marryin' in? I done heard Miss Milly say hunderds er times that she'd 'low her daughters to marry in but her sons must marry out, as daughters-in-law is heaps mo' ticklish to git 'long wif than sons-in-law. Here her three daughters is a marryin' an' going to all kin's er outlan'ish places leavin' they ma an' they home; an' now the boys is thinkin' bout takin' unto theyselves wives, an' one an' all say they can't sleep nowheres but at Chatsworth, an' they mus' bring they wives back home to keep comp'ny wif yo' ma! Mr. Paul's cou'tin' 'round, but he manages to git stuck on too many gals at oncet and makes it hard to settle hisself. I done noticed, howsomever, 'bout that kinder whimsified lover, when he do settle down, he makes the bes' husband er all. Men folks is gotter have they fling, and they bes' have it 'fo'

matrimony than durin' it.

"Dr. John was right hard hit wif that Miss Hunt what was a-visiting yo'

Aunt Clay 'til he seed her wif her hair all stringy an' out er curl that time you all went on the night picnic and the creek riz so and mos'

drownded the pa.s.sel of you. He ain't never paid no 'tention to her since; but they do tell me that pretty, rosy-cheeked young lady he drove out here las' week from Lou'ville is liable to be Mrs. Dr. John. What's mo,' Ca'line tells me she is a trained nurse. She certainly do look lak a lady and I tuck notice she eat lak a lady, ef she does hire herself out in service. Pears lak to me that the mo' things the n.i.g.g.e.rs thinks theyselves too good to do, the mo' things the white folks decide they ain't too good ter do fer theyselves."

"Why, Aunt Mary, of course Miss Graves is a lady. She belongs to one of the very best families and is very well educated and certainly charming and sweet. John will be lucky, indeed, if he can persuade her to have him."

"Well, honey chile, ef you say so, 'tis so. 'Cose in days gone by a nuss was a nuss, cep' some was good and some was bad, but now it seems some is ladies an' some ain't."

"Here comes Mother," exclaimed Edwin, springing from his seat to go meet his mother-in-law, who was opening the neat little green gate that connected the Chatsworth gardens with the old orchard where he had built his nest.

"What lazy children, just having breakfast! I feel as though I had eaten mine ages ago, and yours looks so good, I believe I'll have some more,--just a cup of coffee and a biscuit. Aunt Mary, you have made a better cook of your Molly Baby than you have of Caroline. I never have such biscuit as these except when you come to spend the day."

Aunt Mary had become so feeble that she was not able to do steady work.

She lived in a comfortable cabin at the foot of the hill, making frequent excursions to the "great house" to see that "the n.i.g.g.e.rs was 'memberin' they places and that that there Ca'line wan't sleepin' out er season."

"Well, Miss Milly, it's jes' this way: some folks is good slow cooks an'

some is good quick cooks. Now Ca'line s.h.i.+nes when slow patience is the needcessity. She is great on a biled dinner, where the 'gredients have to jes' simper along. You have her make a Brunswick stew an' you'll think she is the bes' cook in the county. Her yeas' bread is good 'cause that takes time and Ca'line is twins to whatsoever takes time; but ef you have a steak to brile or quick bis'it to cook, you jes sen' fer this ole woman, an' ef she can't crawl up the hill she kin ketch holt er President's tail an' he kin pull her up."

Aunt Mary then busied herself clearing off the table, as her way of spending the day was to help her hostess in many ways.

What a peaceful picture the orchard home presents on this late summer morning! The little brown bungalow looks as though it had always been there. The trees are laden with apples. The fall cheeses are beginning to ripen, and the wine saps are so heavy that Edwin has proudly propped up the bending boughs. The quickly growing vines have done their best for the newly-wedded pair, and the slower ivy has begun to send out shoots that need daily training with matting tacks until they accustom themselves to sticking to the stone foundations. Molly's porch boxes are filled with nasturtiums and petunias, and on each side of the steps are beds of scarlet sage.

Her sister Sue drove over to the orchard as soon as the news came of Molly's approaching wedding, and superintended the planting of many flowers to beautify the little home; and even stern old Aunt Clay unbent to the extent of lending her gardener to do the work. She had also donated a clump of Adam's and Eve's needles and threads that proved very decorative, but quite as unapproachable as Aunt Clay herself.

"It is a splendid apple year," remarked Mrs. Brown, her eyes wandering over the bountifully laden trees. "Do you know, Edwin, I believe you will realize enough off your wine saps and pippins to pay for all your furniture!"

"It is all paid for, thank goodness!" laughed the young man. "But the apple money is to be put in the bank in Molly's account."

"You remember when I went to college, Mother, you said I must win the three golden apples. Don't you think apple money in the bank is a golden apple?"

"Yes, my child, perhaps it is; but happiness is a bigger and more golden apple than money in the bank, and I believe you have gained happiness."

"Indeed I have," said Molly blus.h.i.+ng. "And now I am going to make a pie for my own husband; out of my own apples; off my own tree; in my own kitchen; with my own hands; and before I go, I am going to hug the old man who bought the orchard so I could go on with my college education."

This time Edwin did not "bow his head and wait 'til the storm pa.s.sed over him" as he had, according to Molly, in years gone by; but he drew her down on the arm of his chair, and the making of the famous pie had to be postponed.

The pie was finally made, though, and an extra one to send over to Mother. Aunt Mary declared it was the "bestest I ever set gum in. I uster have a sweet tooth, but now I ain't got nothin' but a sweet gum; but my Molly Baby kin make sich good crus' th' ain't no need to chaw none."

The old woman had been rather scornful of the method of making pastry that Molly had learned from the domestic science teacher at Wellington, but when the pie turned out such a success she was converted.

"Yo' teacher is sho' done drawd a prize cook. The two things what men folks think the mos' of is the gal's outsides an' they own insides. The gal's outsides is goin' to change an' fade; but ef she's got sense 'nuf ter keep on a caterin' ter his insides, the man ain't a gwine ter notice the change. Ain't that the truf?" she asked Edwin as he came into the kitchen hunting his Molly.

"You know best, Aunt Mary. Certainly this pie would hide a mult.i.tude of wrinkles and even gray hair. But now, Aunt Mary, can't you persuade my wife to leave the kitchen long enough to come take a little walk with me?"

"Go long with him, chile. I reckon I can keep the bungleboo from flyin'

off while you an' yo' teacher takes a little ex'cise."