The Boss of Little Arcady Part 7

"But, Clem, you are a free man now. Those people can't claim your services any longer."

I knew what he would say, but for the sake of hearing it once more, I had braved his quick look of commiseration for my shallowness of understanding.

"Yes, seh, Mahstah Majah, Ah knows 'bout that theah 'manc.i.p.ation Procalmashum. But Ah was a ve'y diffunt matteh. Yo'-all see Ah was made oveh t' Miss Cahline p.u.s.s.enly by Ole Mahstah. Yes, seh, Ah been Miss Catiline's p.u.s.s.enal propity fo' a consid'able length of time, eveh sence she was Little Miss."

"But you are free, just the same, now."

He looked upon me with troubled, grave eyes.

"Well, seh, Mahstah Majah, Ah ain't eveh raghtly comp'ehended, but Ah've reckoned that theah wah business an' Procalmashum an' so fothe was fo'

common niggehs an' fiel' han's an' sech what b'long to th' place. But Ah was diffunt. Ah ain't b'longed to th' place. Ah b'longed to Miss Cahline lak Ah endeaveh to explain. Ah was a house niggeh an' futhamoah an'

notwithstandin' Ah was th' p.u.s.s.enal propity of Miss Cahline. Yes, seh, Ah b'long dreckly to huh--an' Ah bet them theah lawyehs at Wash'nt'n, seh, couldn't kentrive none a' they laws that woulda teched _me_, seh.

No, seh--they cain't lay th' law to Miss Cahline's p.u.s.s.enalities. She ain't go'n' a' stan' no nonsense lahk _that_, seh; she ain't go'n a'

have no lawyeh mixin' up in huh private mattehs. Ah lahk t' see one _try_ it--yes, seh."

He gazed vacantly into the distance, then laughed aloud as he beheld the discomfiture of the "lawyeh" in this suppositious proceeding.

"And you even let your wife go?--that must have been hard."

"Well, seh, not to _say_ mah wife. Mah raght wife, she daid--an' then Ah mahied this yeh light-shaded gehl fum th' quahtahs, an' she's wild an'

misled--yes, seh."

Again he was troubled, but I held him to it.

"You thought a good deal of her, didn't you, Clem?"

He studied a moment as he rearranged the roses in the bowl on the table, seeking a way to let me understand. Then he sighed hopelessly.

"Well, Mahstah Majah, Genevieve she cyahed a raght smaht fo' me, also, an' she mek it up fo' me t' come along t' town with huh. She sais Ah git a mewl an' a fahm an' thousan' dollehs money fum yo' Nawthen President an' we all live lahk th' quality. But, yo'-all see, th' ole Mahstah Cunnel say when he go off to th' wah, 'Clem, yo' black houn', ef Ah doan' eveh come back, these yeh ladies is lef in yo' p.u.s.s.enal chahge.

Yo' unde'stan' _that?_ Yo' go on an' _do_ fo' 'em jes' lahk Ah was yeh.'

An' young Mahstah Cap'n Bev'ly,--he's Little Miss's engaged-to-mahy genaman,--he sais, 'Clem, ef Ah doan' neveh come back, Ah pray an'

entrus' yo'-all t' cyah fo' Miss Kate an' huh Maw jes lahk Ah was yeh on th' spot.' An Ah said, 'Yes, seh,' an' they ain't neithah one a' them eveh did come back. Mahstah Cunnel he daid by th' hand o' yo' Nawthen President at th' battle a' Seven Pines, an' Mahstah Cap'n Bev'ly Glentwo'th--yo' ole Mahstah Gen'al She'dan shoot him all t' pieces in his chest one day. So theah Ah is--Ah _cain't_ leave--an' Genevieve comes a' repohtin' huhse'f to mek mah rediments, 'cause we all free an'

go'n' a' go t' Richmond t' live high an' maghty, an' Ah sais, 'Ah'm Miss Cahline's p.u.s.s.enal propity--Ah ain't no fiel' niggeh!' She sais, 'Is yo'

a' comin' aw is you _ain't_ a-comin'?' Ah sais, 'Ole Cunnel daid, young Cap'n daid--yo' go 'long an' min' yo' own mindin's--'"

He paused to look out over the waters with s.h.i.+ning eyes. After a bit he said slowly, "Ah neveh thought Genevieve would go--but she did."

"Then what?"

"Well, seh, Ah stayed on th' place twell we moved oveh to Miss Cahline's secon' cousin, Mahstah Cunnel Peavey, but they wa'n't nothin' theah, so Ah sais t' Miss Cahline that Ah's goin' Nawth wheah all th' money is, an' Ah send fo' huh. So she sais, 'Ve'y good, Clem--yo' all Ah got lef t' mah name,' an' so Ah come off. Then afteh while Little Miss she git resty an' tehible fractious an' she go off t' Baltimoah t' teach in th'

young ladies' educationals, an' Miss Cahline she still theah waitin' fo'

me. Yes, seh, sh' ain't doin' nothin' but livin' on huh secon' cousin an' he ain' got nothin'--an' Ah lay Ah ain't go'n' a' have _that_ kind a' doin's. No, seh--a-livin' on Cunnel Looshe Peavey. Ah'm go'n' a' git huh yeh whah she kin be independent--"

Again he stopped to see visions.

"An' then, afteh a tehible shawt while, Ah git Little Miss fum the educationals an' they _both_ be independent. Yes, seh, Ah'm gittin' th'

money--reglah gole money--none a' this yeh Vaginyah papah-rags money. Ah ain't stahted good when Ah come, but Ah wagah ten hund'ed thousan'

dollehs Ah finish up good!"

The last was a pointed reference to the Colonel.

"Have you seen Colonel Potts lately?" I asked. Clem sniffed.

"Yes, seh, on that tavehn cohnah, a-settin' on a cheer an' a-chestin'

out his chest lahk a ole ma'ash frawg. 'Peahs like the man ain't got hawg sense, ack'in' that a-way."

A concluding sniff left it plain that Potts had been put beyond the pale of gentility by Clem.

He left me then to do his work in the kitchen--left me back on a battle-field, lying hurt beside an officer from his land who tried weakly to stanch a wound in his side as he addressed me.

"A hot charge, sir--but we rallied--hear that yell from our men behind the woods. You can't beat us. We needn't be told that. Whatever G.o.d is, he's at least a gentleman, above practical jokes of that sort." He groaned as the blood oozed anew from his side, then pleaded with me to help him find the picture--to look under him and all about on the ground. Long I mused upon this, but at last my pipe was out, and I awoke from that troubled spot where G.o.d's little creatures had clashed in their puny rage--awoke to know that this was my day to wander in another world--the dream world of children, where everything is true that ought to be true.

CHAPTER VII

"A WORLD OF FINE FABLING"

Solon Denney's home, in charge of Mrs. Delia Sullivan, late of Kerry, was four blocks up the shaded street from my own. Within one block of its gate as I approached it that morning, the Sabbath calm was riven by shouts that led me to the back of the house. In the yard next to Solon's, Tobin Crowder, of Crowder & Fancett, Lumber, Coal and Building Supplies, had left a magnificent green wagon-box flat upon the ground, a thing so fine that it was almost a game of itself. An imagination of even the second order could at once render it supremely fascinating. My two babes, collaborating with four small Sullivans, had by child magic, which is the only true magic, transformed this box into a splendid express train. The train now sped across country at such terrific speed that the small Sullivan at the throttle, an artist and a realist, crouched low, with eyes strained upon the track-head, with one hand tightly holding on his Sunday cap.

Another Sullivan was fireman, fiercely shovelling imaginary coal; still another at the side of the box grasped the handle of the brake as one ready to die at his post if need be. The last Sullivan paced the length of the wagon-box, being thrown from side to side with fine artistry by the train's jolting. He arrogantly demanded tickets from pa.s.sengers supposedly both to relinquish these. And in his wake went the official most envied by all the others. With a horse's nose-bag upon his arm my namesake chanted in pleading tones above the din, "Peanuts--freshly b.u.t.tered popcorn--Culver's celebrated double-X cough drops, cool and refres.h.i.+ng!"

But the tragic eminence of the game was occupied by my woman child.

Perched in the middle of the high seat, her short legs impotently projecting into s.p.a.ce, she was the only pa.s.senger on this train--and she, for whose sole behoof the ponderous machinery was operated, in whose exclusive service this crew of trained hirelings toiled--she sat aloft indignant, with tear-wet face, her soul revolted by the ignominy of it.

I knew the truth in a glance. There had been clamors for the positions of honor, and she, from weakness of s.e.x, had been overborne. She, whose heart cried out for the distinction of train-boy, conductor, engineer, brakeman, or fireman, in the order named, had been forced into the only degrading post in the game--a mere pa.s.senger without voice or office in those delicate feats of administration. And she suffered--suffered with a pathetic loyalty, for she knew as well as they that some one _had_ to be the pa.s.senger.

I held an accusing eye upon my namesake and the train came to a sudden halt, much embarra.s.sed, though the brakeman, with artistic relish, made a vast ado with his brake and pretended that "she" might start off again any minute.

My namesake poised himself on the foot that had no stone-bruise and began:--

"Now, Uncle Maje, I _told_ her she could be engineer after we got to the next station--"

His tones were those of benevolence that has been ill-requited.

"_That_ was las' station," broke in the aggrieved pa.s.senger, "an' they wouldn't stop the train there 'cause they said it was a 'spress train and mustn't stop at such little stations--"

"I tried awful hard to stop her," said the crafty Sullivan at the throttle, "but she got away from me. She did _so_, now!"

"And I said, 'First to be engineer,'" resumed the pa.s.senger, bitterly, "an' they wouldn't let me, an' I said, 'Secon' to be engineer,' an' they never let me, an' I said, 'Las' to be engineer,' an' they never let me."

"She wants to be _everything_" said my namesake, rendered a little sullen by this concise putting of her case.

"You come with me," I said to the pa.s.senger, "and we'll do something better than this--something fine!"

Her face brightened, for she knew that I never made idle promises as do so many grown-ups. She jumped from her seat, even though the first Sullivan tooted a throaty whistle and the second rattled his brake machinery in warning. I helped her over the side of the box, and as we walked away she shouted back to the bereaved express train a consolatory couplet:--