Pole Baker: A NovelHarben, Will N. (Will Nathaniel)
General
Pole Baker: A Novel
Harben, Will N. (Will Nathaniel)
Georgia -- Fiction
“Oh, I don't know,” answered Floyd; “but here I am talking about my
own affairs when you came to see me about yours. What can I do for you,
Pole? If it's money you want, you certainly came to headquarters, and
you can get all you want and no questions asked.”
“I didn't come to see you on my own business, Nelson,” Pole answered.
“I'm here on account of old man Mayhew. Nelson, he's mighty nigh
plumb crazy over you bein' away. He can't run that thing up thar
single-handed; he's leaned too long on you fer that, an' then he's
gittin' old and sorter childish. I never knowed it before, Nelson, but
he looks on you sorter like a son. The old fellow's eyes got full an'
he choked up when he was beggin' me to come down here an' see you. He
gathered from yore last letter that you intended to go West and live,
an' he called me in an' begged me to come and persuade you not to do it.
Nelson, I'll hate it like rips, too, ef you leave us. Them old mountains
is yore rightful home, an' I'm here to tell you that God Almighty never
give any one man more friends than you've got amongst them plain, honest
folks. By gum! they jest stand around in bunches an' talk an' talk about
you an'--an' yore--late trouble. Thar ain't one in the lot but what 'ud
be glad to help you bear it.”
Floyd stood up suddenly, and, with his hands behind him, he began to
walk back and forth across the room.
“It's the only spot on earth I'll ever care about,” Pole heard him say
in a deep, husky voice, “and God knows I love the people; but I don't
want to go back, Pole. Fate rather rubbed it in on me up there. All my
early life I nursed the hope that I would eventually be able to prove
that my parents were good, respectable people, and then when I was
beginning to despair it went out that I belonged to a great and high
family, and the aristocracy of the section extended their hands and
congratulated me and patted me on the back. But that wasn't for long. My
guardian angel--my old stand-by, Pole--came to me with a malignant grin
and handed me the information that I was--was what you couldn't call the
humblest man you know up there and live a minute later.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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