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
"An' we hev ter leave everythink whar it fell down, an' come hyar ter
do thar work fur 'em,--a-fixin' up of this hyar road fur them ter
travel," exclaimed Tobe Rains, attempting to chafe himself into a rage.
"It's got ter quit,--that's what I say; this hyar way of doin' hev got
ter quit." By way of lending verisimilitude to the industrial figure
of rhetoric, he lifted his hammer and dealt an ineffectual blow at a
large bowlder. Then he picked up his crowbar, and, leaning heavily on
the implement, resigned himself to the piquant interest of gossip.
"An' thar's that Josiah Tait," he continued, "a settled married man,
a-behavin' no better 'n them fool boys. He hain't struck a lick of work
fur nigh on ter a month,--'ceptin' a-goin' huntin' with the t'others,
every wunst in a while. He hev jes' pulled through at the little eend
of the horn. I never sot much store by him, nohow, though when he war
married ter Melindy Price, nigh 'bout a year ago, the folks all 'lowed
ez she war a-doin' mighty well ter git him, ez he war toler'ble well
off through his folks all bein' dead but him, an' he hed what he hed
his own self."
"I wouldn't let _my_ darter marry no man ez plays kyerds," said a very
young fellow, with great decision of manner, "no matter what he hed,
nor how he hed it."
As the lady referred to was only two weeks old, and this solicitude
concerning her matrimonial disposition was somewhat premature, there
was a good-natured guffaw at the young fellow's expense.
"An' now," Tobe Rains resumed, "ef Josiah keeps on the way ez he hev
started, he hain't a-goin' ter hev no more 'n the t'other boys round
the mounting,--mebbe not ez much,--an' Melindy Price hed better hev
a-tuken somebody what owned less but hed a harder grip."
A long silence fell upon the party. Three of the twenty men assembled,
in dearth of anything else to do, took heart of grace and fell to work;
fifteen leaned upon their hoes in a variety of postures, all equally
expressive of sloth, and with slow eyes followed the graceful sweep of
a hawk, drifting on the wind, without a motion of its wings, across
the blue sky to the opposite range. Two, one of whom was the overseer,
searched their pockets for a plug of tobacco, and when it was found
its possessor gave to him that lacked. At length, Abner Blake, who
furnished all the items of news, and led the conversation, removed
his eyes from the flight of the hawk, as the bird was absorbed in the
variegated October foliage of the opposite mountain, and reopened the
discussion. At the first word the three who were working paused in
attentive quietude; the fifteen changed their position to one still
more restful; the overseer sat down on a bowlder by the roadside, and
placed his contemplative elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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