The Little Brown Jug at KildareNicholson, Meredith
General
The Little Brown Jug at Kildare
Nicholson, Meredith
Fathers and daughters -- Fiction; Governors -- Fiction; Humorous stories; North Carolina -- Fiction; South Carolina -- Fiction
"And now, to be quite honest about it, Miss Osborne, I must confess that
I received this warning last night from a man who believed me to be the
governor. To tell the truth, I told him I was the governor!"
The girl's eyes made a fresh inventory of Griswold, then she laughed for
the first time--a light laugh of honest mirth that would not be
gainsaid. The beautiful color deepened in her cheeks; her eyes lighted
merrily, as though at the drollery of Griswold standing, so to speak,
_in loco parentis_.
"I have my own confession to make. I heard what you said to that man. I
had gone to the rear platform to see what was the matter. The stop there
in that preposterous place seemed interminable. You must have known that
I listened."
"I didn't suppose you heard what that man said to me or what I said to
him. I don't know how I came to palm myself off as the governor--I am
not in the habit of doing such things, but it was due, I think, to the
fact that I had just been saying to a friend of mine at Atlanta--"
He ceased speaking, realizing that what he might have said to Ardmore
was not germane to the point at issue. His responsibility for the life
and security of Governor Osborne of the sovereign state of South
Carolina was at an end, and he was entering upon a social chat with
Governor Osborne's daughter. Some such thought must have passed through
her mind, too, for she straightened herself in her chair and dropped the
point of her parasol to the floor. But she was the least bit curious, in
spite of herself. The young man before her, who held his hat and gloves
so quietly and who spoke with so nice a deference in a voice so
musical, was beyond question a gentleman, and he had stopped at Columbia
to render her father a service. There was no reason why she should not
hear what he had said to his friend at Atlanta.
"What had you been saying, Mr. Griswold?"
"Oh, really nothing after all! I'm ashamed of it now! But he's the most
amusing person, with nothing to do but to keep himself amused. We
discuss many daring projects, but we are never equal to them. I had just
been telling him that we were incapable of action; that while we plan
our battles the foe is already breaking down the outer defenses and
beating in the gates. You see, we are both very ridiculous at times, and
we talk that sort of idiocy to keep up our spirits. And having berated
my friend for his irresolution, I seized the first opportunity to prove
my own capacity for meeting emergencies. The man flattered me with the
assumption that I was the governor of South Carolina, and I weakly
fell."
Distress was again written in Miss Osborne's face. She had paid little
heed to the latter half of Griswold's recital, though she kept her eyes
fixed gravely upon him. In a moment the gentleman in blue serge who had
manifested so much feeling over the governor's absence strode again into
the room.
"Ah, Miss Osborne, so you are back!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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