United States -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
Mr. Middleton sank into the nearest chair, and covering his rough face
with his hands, wept as freely as a little child. He had loved Mr. Wilmot
with almost a father’s love, and during his absence had not been unmindful
of him. Safely stowed away in his carpet bag were several costly books,
which he had purchased as a present for Richard. He had also hoped that as
Julia’s husband he would have a good influence over her, and improve her
fractious disposition; and many were the plans which he had formed as to
what he would do when Richard was really his son. But now he was gone
forever. The blow was so sudden, so unexpected, that for several minutes
he was stunned by its force and wept on in silence.
At last, lifting up his head, he turned to Kate and said, "You must not
think me a silly old fool, child, for Lord knows old Josh Middleton hain’t
shed such tears since he was a little shaver and cried when they buried up
his dead mother."
Kate could not reply, but from that time she felt for Mr. Middleton a
respect and esteem which nothing could ever change.
After Mr. Middleton had become calm, he proceeded to enumerate to Mr.
Miller the many good qualities of Mr. Wilmot. Said he, "He was a capital
feller; allus just so. Lively as a cricket; none of your stuck-up,
fiddle-faddle notions. And then he was such a good boarder—not a bit
particular what he eat; why, he was the greatest kind of a man—eat corn
bread, turnip greens, or anything!"
At this speech Kate smiled in spite of her tears, and Mr. Middleton went
on: "But he warn’t as handsome as his sister, and I’ll be skinned if I
ever seen anybody that was. Tempest can’t hold a candle to her, for all
she feels so crank. Why, Kit, or Kate, what’s yer name? You’re as handsome
as a pictur!"
Mr. Miller probably thought so too, if the admiring look which he gave her
was any criterion. Mr. Middleton observed it, and forgetting for a moment
the death of his friend, he slapped Mr. Miller on his shoulder, saying, "I
tell you what, my boy; it’s a mighty mean wind that blows nobody any good
fortin. Miss Kate warn’t sent to Kentuck for nothin’, and unless you’re a
bigger logger-head than I think you be, you’ll try to find out what she
come for, and how long she’s goin’ to stay."
Mr. Miller smiled and said, "I hope we shall be able to keep Miss Wilmot
all winter, for the people of Frankfort are wanting a music teacher, and
have solicited her to remain in that capacity."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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