Cape Cod (Mass.) -- Fiction; Short stories, American
“Lobelia 'Ankins cooked and washed dishes for us. She done some noble
cooking, 'specially as we wa'n't partic'lar, but we could see she had a
temper to beat the Old Scratch. If anything got burned, or if the kittle
upset, she'd howl and stomp and scatter things worse than a cyclone.
“I reckon 'twas about the third day that I noticed she was getting sweet
on Hammond. She was giving him the best of all the vittles, and used
to set at the table and look at him, softer'n and sweeter'n a bucket of
molasses. Used to walk 'longside of him, too, and look up in his face
and smile. I could see that he noticed it and that it was worrying him a
heap. One day he says to me:
“''Edge,' says he, 'I b'lieve that 'ere chromo of a Lobelia 'Ankins is
getting soft on me.'
“''Course she is,' says I; 'I see that a long spell ago.'
“'But what'll I DO?' says he. 'A woman like 'er is a desp'rate
character. If we hever git hashore she might be for lugging me to the
church and marrying me by main force.'
“'Then you'll have to marry her, for all I see,' says I. 'You shouldn't
be so fascinating.'
“That made him mad and he went off jawing to himself.
“The next day we got the schooner patched up and off the shoal and
'longside Lazarus' old landing wharf by the shanty. There was a little
more tinkering to be done 'fore she was ready for sea, and we cal'lated
to do it that afternoon.
“After dinner Hammond went down to the spring after some water and
Lobelia 'Ankins went along with him. I laid down in the shade for a
snooze, but I hadn't much more than settled myself comfortably when
I heard a yell and somebody running. I jumped up just in time to see
Hammond come busting through the bushes, lickety smash, with Lobelia
after him, yelling like an Injun. Hammond wa'n't yelling; he was saving
his breath for running.
“They wa'n't in sight more'n a minute, but went smashing and crashing
through the woods into the distance. 'Twas too hot to run after 'em, so
I waited a spell and then loafed off in a roundabout direction toward
where I see 'em go. After I'd walked pretty nigh a mile I heard Hammond
whistle. I looked, but didn't see him nowheres. Then he whistled again,
and I see his head sticking out of the top of a palm tree.
“'Is she gone?' says he.
“'Yes, long ago,' says I. 'Come down.'
“It took some coaxing to git him down, but he come after a spell, and he
was the scaredest man ever I see. I asked him what the matter was.
“''Edge,' says he, 'I'm a lost man. That 'ere 'orrible 'Ankins houtrage
is either going to marry me or kill me. 'Edge,' he says, awful solemn,
'she tried to kiss me! S'elp me, she did!'
“Well, I set back and laughed. 'Is that why you run away?' I says.
“'No,' says he. 'When I wouldn't let 'er she hups with a rock as big as
my 'ead and goes for me. There was murder in 'er eyes, 'Edge; I see it.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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