Mountain people -- North Carolina -- Fiction; North Carolina -- Fiction
I put the rabbit into his grave, raked the dirt on him with my
foot--hardly a Christian-like way, I admit--placed my trunk into the
body of the wagon, and took a seat beside the man. And there was
something about him that at once interested me. His hat was off and the
breeze was stirring his grizzly hair. His nose was large and thin, and
when he turned his face square upon me, I saw that his eyes were gray
and clear. He wore no coat, his shirt sleeves were rolled back, and
though he must have been more than fifty years old, I could see that he
had enormous strength in his arms. And he was looking at me admiringly,
for he said, "You must be pretty much of a man."
"I am not a child except in my lack of wisdom," I answered.
"Gad, you talk like a preacher. Which way are you going?"
"Over to Lim Jucklin's house."
He gave me another square look and remarked, "That's my name."
"You don't tell me so?"
"Didn't you hear me tell you so?"
"Yes, but----"
"Well, then, I did tell you so."
"I am delighted to meet you, sir. I am a school teacher, and I hear that
one is wanted in your neighborhood."
He looked at me from head to foot, and replied: "I shouldn't wonder but
you are the right man. What's your name?"
I told him and after a few moments of silence he asked, "Any kin to the
Luke Hawes that fought in the Creek war?"
"He was my grandfather."
"Ah, hah, and my daddy fit with him--was a lieutenant in his company.
Let's shake hands. Whoa, boys." He stopped his horses, got up, shook
down the wrinkled legs of his trousers and reached forth his hand.
"You are a stranger in North Caroliny," he said when he had clucked to
his horses.
"Yes, I am a stranger everywhere you might put it," I answered. "I am
from Alabama, but the people made so much fun of me in the community
where I was brought up that I am even a stranger there."
"What did they make fun of you about?"
"Because I was overgrown and awkward."
"Whoa, boys! Let's shake hands again. I got it the same way when I was a
boy, and I come in one of never gettin' over it."
We drove on and had gone some distance when he asked: "Do you know all
about 'rithmetic?"
"I at least know the multiplication table."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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