Abner Daniel: A NovelHarben, Will N. (Will Nathaniel)
General
Abner Daniel: A Novel
Harben, Will N. (Will Nathaniel)
Georgia -- Fiction; Mountain life -- Fiction
“I've never been knowed to take sides in any connubial tustle yet,” he
said to Trabue, in a dry tone. “Alf may not know what he's about right
now, but he's Solomon hisse'f compared to a feller that will undertake
to settle a dispute betwixt a man an' his wife--more especially the
wife. Geewhilikins! I never shall forget the time old Jane Hardeway come
heer to spend a week an' Alf thar an' Betsy split over buyin' a hat-rack
fer the hall. Betsy had seed one over at Mason's, at the camp-ground,
an' determined she'd have one. Maybe you noticed that fancy contraption
in the hall as you come in. Well, Alf seed a nigger unloadin' it from a
wagon at the door one mornin', an' when Betsy, in feer an' tremblin',
told 'im what it was fer he mighty nigh had a fit. He said his folks
never had been above hangin' the'r coats an' hats on good stout nails an'
pegs, an' as fer them umbrella-pans to ketch the drip, he said they was
fancy spit-boxes, an' wanted to know ef she expected a body to do the'r
chawin' an' smokin' in that windy hall. He said it jest should not stand
thar with all them prongs an' arms to attack unwary folks in the dark,
an' he toted it out to the buggy-shed. That got Betsy's dander up an'
she put it back agin the wall an' said it ud stay thar ef she had to
stand behind it an' hold it in place. Alf wasn't done yet; he 'lowed ef
they was to have sech a purty trick as that on the hill it had to stay
in the best room in the house, so he put it heer in the parlor by the
piano. But Betsy took it back two or three times an' he larnt that he
was a-doin' a sight o' work fer nothin', an' finally quit totin' it about.
But that ain't what I started in to tell. As I was a-sayin', old Jane
Hardeway thought she'd sorter put a word in the dispute to pay fer her
board an' keep, an' she told Betsy that it was all owin' to the way the
Bishops was raised that Alf couldn't stand to have things nice about
'im. She said all the Bishops she'd ever knowed had a natural stoop
that they got by livin' in cabins with low roofs. She wasn't spreadin' 'er
butter as thick as she thought she was--ur maybe it was the sort she was
spreadin '--fer Betsy blazed up like the woods afire in a high wind. It
didn't take old Jane long to diskiver that thar was several breeds
o' Bishops out o' jail, an' she spent most o' the rest o' her visit
braggin' on some she'd read about. She said the name sounded like the
start of 'em had been religious an' substanch.”
“Brother Abner,” whined Mrs. Bishop, “I wisht you'd hush all that
foolishness an' help me 'n the children out o' this awful fix. Alfred
always would listen to you.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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