A Tar-Heel BaronSmith, Mabell S. C. (Mabell Shippie Clarke)
General
A Tar-Heel Baron
Smith, Mabell S. C. (Mabell Shippie Clarke)
Mountain life -- Fiction; North Carolina -- Fiction
"You see, Mr. Wendell, Black Monday was raised on the place here, and
she's been the hardest colt to break of any we ever had. Patton owns
her now, but I feel a personal responsibility for her because he took
her out of my hands before she was thoroughly quiet."
"I see," nodded John, gravely, in accord with Sydney's seriousness.
"You fear some burst of girlish exuberance."
"Did you see her roll in her saddle just as we were coming out of
church Sunday?" asked Patton, turning eagerly to Sydney.
"How do you dare to use such half-broken creatures?" cried Katrina.
"My dear," said Mrs. Carroll, "when you've been with us a little while
you'll realize how close we are to primitive conditions. To-day you
break the horse you mean to ride next week. To-morrow you kill the
steer or the pig or the chickens that were your pets to-day."
"I suppose it must be so always in the country, but you can't be very
primitive here with a large town near by and a railroad."
"In reality we are only as far from the Asheville Court House as the
people on the upper boundary of the Bronx are from Castle Garden; but
in point of convenience, owing to the scarcity of trains and their poor
arrangement, we are almost as near to Washington."
"Still, the railroad has opened the country and given the farmers new
markets," asserted John.
"Undoubtedly; but that is not an unmixed good, in my opinion," said
Mrs. Carroll, stoutly. "They sell more cabbages and apples, but they
buy cheap fabrics and ready-made clothing in place of the stout
homespun that the women used to weave."
"You'd be surprised," said Patton, "to know how little the country
people use the railroad. There was an example of it day before
yesterday. A man from McDowell's Creek, about six miles from Flora,
took his first train-ride since the road was put through, fifteen years
ago."
"How extraordinary that seems! It was the day of his life, I suppose."
Katrina's eyes were large with amazement.
"In a way it was," said Bob, dryly, "for in Asheville he celebrated his
adventures not wisely, but too well, and on the way out he fell from
the platform and was killed."
"Bob, how can you be so flippant?" objected Sydney to the crestfallen
young man. "It seems a terrible end."
"All sudden deaths seem terrible to us who are left behind," said Mrs.
Carroll; "but even such an ending does not give us the shock that it
would if we did not live in a community accustomed to the accidents
consequent upon every man's carrying a revolver. It's a bad habit. I
hope you boys don't do it."
"No, indeed, Mrs. Carroll," they both replied, with suspicious
promptness, and they sat up very straight, so that the backs of their
coats presented an unbroken line.
John smiled at them.
"Are they often used?" he asked.
"Quite too often," answered Sydney, gravely. "As grandmother says, we
do, indeed, live close to nature. If a man is angry with his neighbor,
he calls him to his door on some moonless night and shoots him."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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