Mountain people -- North Carolina -- Fiction; North Carolina -- Fiction
He took a grain of corn from his pocket, placed it between his teeth,
and with a grin on his face got down on his knees and held his mouth
near the bars of Sam's cage. The rooster plucked out the grain of corn,
and Bob, watching the performance, began to prance about in jealous
rage. "Never you mind, Bob," said the old man, getting up and dusting
his knees. "I know your tricks. Held one out to you that way not long
ago, and I wish I may never stir agin if you didn't take a crack at my
eye, and if I hadn't ducked I'd be one-eyed right now. But they are
callin' us to breakfust. Bound to interfere with a man one way or
another."
It was with great care that Alf prepared himself to go with me to the
General's house. Out under a tree in the yard he placed a mirror on a
chair and there he sat and shaved himself. Then he went upstairs to put
on a suit of clothes which never had been worn, and anon I heard him
calling his mother to help him find buttons and neckwear that had been
misplaced. And he shouted to me not to be impatient, that he was doing
the best he could. Impatient! I was sitting in the passage, leaning back
against the wall, and near the steps Guinea stood, looking far out over
the ravine. She had donned a garb of bright calico, with long,
green-stemmed flowers stamped upon it, and I thought that of all the
dresses I had ever beheld this was the most beautiful and becoming. She
hummed a tune and looking about pretended to be surprised to see me
sitting there, and for aught I know the astonishment might have been
real, for I had made no noise in placing my chair against the wall.
"I ought not to be humming a dance tune on Sunday," she said, stepping
back and standing against the opposite wall, with her hands behind her.
"I don't see how the day can make music harmful," I replied.
"The day can't make music harmful," she rejoined. "But I can't sing.
Sometimes when I can't express what I am thinking about I hum it. How
long are you and Alf going to be away?"
"As long as it suits him," I answered. "I have decided to have no voice
as to the length of our stay."
"Then you are simply going to accommodate him. How kind of you. And have
you always so much consideration for others? If you have you may find
your patience strained if you stay here."
"To stand any strain that may be placed upon our patience is a virtue,"
I remarked--sententious pedagogue--and she lifted her hands, clasped
them behind her head, looked at me and laughed, a music sweet and low.
Just then Alf came out upon the passage, looking down at himself, first
one side and then the other; and it was with a feeling of close kinship
to envy that I regarded his new clothes. He apologized for having kept
me waiting so long, but in truth I could have told him that I should
have liked to wait there for hours, looking at the graceful figure of
that girl, standing with her hands clasped behind her brown head.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account