In the Tennessee mountainsCraddock, Charles Egbert
General
In the Tennessee mountains
Craddock, Charles Egbert
Mountain life -- Tennessee -- Fiction; Short stories, American; Tennessee -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
"I knowed ye wouldn't b'lieve that, but it air gospel-true," protested
the ex-convict. "Thar is more money a-goin' in the valley 'n thar is in
the mountings, an' folks pays more fur work. Besides that, 'Vander hev
got a patent, ez he calls it, fur his rivet contrivance, an' he 'lows
ez it hev paid him some a'ready. It'll sorter stiffen up the backbone
o' that word ef I tell ye ez he 'lowed ez he hed jes' sent two hunderd
dollars ter Squair Bates ter lift the mortgage off'n old man Price's
house an' land, an' two hunderd dollars more ter be gin ter his dad
ez a present. An' Squair Bates acted 'cordin' ter 'Vander's word, an'
lifted the mortgage, an' handed old man Price the balance. An' what
do ye s'pose old man Price done with the money? He went right out an'
buried it in the woods, fur fear he'd be pulled out'n his bed fur it,
some dark night, by lawless ones. He'll never find it agin, I reckon.
The idjit hed more sense. I seen 'Lijah diggin' fur it, ez I rid by
thar ter-day."
"Did 'Vander 'low when he air comin' back ter Pine Mounting?" asked
Pete Blenkins. "He hev been gone two year an' a half now."
"I axed him that word. An' he said he mought kem back ter see his folks
nex' year, mebbe, or the year arter that. But I misdoubts. He air so
powerful tuk up with metal an' iron, an' sech, an' so keen 'bout his
'ventions, ez he calls 'em, ez he seemed mighty glad ter git shet o'
the mountings. 'Vander 'lows ez you-uns dunno nothin' 'bout iron up
hyar, Pete."
It was too plain. Cynthia could not deceive herself. He had forgotten
her. His genius, once fairly evoked, possessed him, and faithfully his
ambitions served it. His love, in comparison, was but a little thing,
and he left it in the mountains,--the mountains that he did not regret,
that had barred him so long from all he valued, that had freed him at
last only through the prison doors. His love had been an unavowed love,
and there was no duty broken. For the first time she wondered if he
ever knew that she cared for him,--if he never remembered. And then she
was suddenly moved to ask, "Did he 'low ter you-uns who got his pardon
fur him?"
"I axed that word when las' I seen him, an' the critter said he
actially hed never tuk time ter think 'bout'n that. He 'lowed he war
so tickled ter git away from the Pen'tiary right straight ter the iron
works an' the consarn he hed made ter head rivets so peart, ez he never
wondered 'bout'n it. He made sure, though, now he had kem ter study
'bout'n it, ez his dad hed done it, or it mought hev been gin him fur
good conduc' an' sech."
"'Twar Cynthy hyar ez done some of it," explained Pete Blenkins,
"though Jubal Tynes stirred himself right smart."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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