Alabama -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Fiction; Domestic fiction; War stories
"Yes, Grandy! he is cruel and wicked; and I never can bear to look at
or speak to him! How dared he curse my dear, dear, good grandpa! How
can I ever be respectful to him, when he is not even respectful to his
own mother! Oh! I wish I had never come here! I shall always hate him!"
At this juncture, Hagar entered, and lifted her back to her couch; and,
remarking the agitation of her manner, the nurse said gravely, as she
put her fingers on the girl's pulse:
"What has flushed you so? Your face is hot; you have tired yourself
sitting up too long. Did a gentleman come into the room a while ago?"
"Yes, Mrs. Murray's son."
"Did Miss Ellen--that is, my mistress--tell you that you were to live
here, and get your education?"
"Yes, she offered to take care of me for a few years."
"Well, I am glad it is fixed, so--you can stay; for you can be a great
comfort to Miss Ellen, if you try to please her."
She paused, and busied herself about the room, and remembering Mrs.
Murray's injunction that she should discourage conversation on the part
of the servants, Edna turned her face to the wall and shut her eyes.
But for once Hagar's habitual silence and non-committalism were laid
aside; and, stooping over the couch, she said hurriedly:
"Listen to me, child, for I like your patient ways, and want to give
you a friendly warning; you are a stranger in this house, and might
stumble into trouble. Whatever else you do, be sure not to cross Mass'
Elmo's path! Keep out of his way, and he will keep out of yours; for he
is shy enough of strangers, and would walk a mile to keep from meeting
anybody; but if he finds you in his way, he will walk roughshod right
over you--trample you. Nothing ever stops him one minute when he makes
up his mind. He does not even wait to listen to his mother, and she is
about the only person who dares to talk to him. He hates everybody and
everything; but he doesn't tread on folks' toes unless they are where
they don't belong. He is like a rattlesnake that crawls in his own
track, and bites everything that meddles or crosses his trail. Above
everything, child, for the love of peace and heaven, don't argue with
him! If he says black is white, don't contradict him; and if he swears
water runs up stream, let him swear, and don't know it runs down. Keep
out of his sight, and you will do well enough, but once make him mad
and you had better fight Satan hand to hand with red-hot pitchforks!
Everybody is afraid of him, and gives way to him, and you must do like
the balance that have to deal with him. I nursed him; but I would
rather put my head in a wolf's jaws than stir him up; and God knows I
wish he had died when he was a baby, instead of living to grow up the
sinful, swearing, raging devil he is! Now mind what I say. I am not
given to talking, but this time it is for your good. Mind what I tell
you, child; and if you want to have peace, keep out of his way."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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