An Arkansas Planter | Page 7

was a puzzle to the neighbors.
Their characters stood at fantastic and whimsical variance; one never in
debt, the other never out of debt; one clamped by honor, the other
feeling not its restraining pinch. But together they would ride abroad,
laughing along the road. To Mrs. Cranceford old Gid was a pest. With
the shrewd digs of a woman, the blood-letting side stabs of her sex, she
had often shown her disapproval of the strong favor in which the Major
held him; she vowed that her husband had gathered many an oath from
Gid's swollen store of execration (when, in truth, Gid had been an apt
pupil under the Major), and she had hoped that the Major's attachment
to the church would of necessity free him from the humiliating
association with the old sinner, but it did not, for they continued to ride
abroad, laughing along the road.
Like a skittish horse old Gid shied at the office door. Once he had
crossed that threshold and it had cost him a crop of cotton.
"How are you, John?" was Gid's salutation as he edged off, still fanning
himself.
"How are you, sir?" was the Major's stiff recognition of the fact that
Gid was on earth.
"Getting hotter, I believe, John."
"I presume it is, sir." The Major sat with his elbow resting on a desk,
and about him were stacked threatening bundles of papers; and old Gid
knew that in those commercial romances he himself was a familiar
character.
"Are you busy, John?"
"Yes, but you may come in."
"No, I thank you. Don't believe I've got time."
"Then take time. I want to talk to you. Come in."

"No, not to-day, John. Fact is I'm not feeling very well. Head's all
stopped up with a cold, and these summer colds are awful, I tell you. It
was a summer cold that took my father off."
"How's your cotton in that low strip along the bayou?"
"Tolerable, John; tolerable."
"Come in. I want to talk to you about it."
"Don't believe I can stand the air in there, John. Head all stopped up.
Don't believe I'm going to live very long."
"Nonsense. You are as strong as a buck."
"You may think so, John, but I'm not. I thought father was strong, too,
but a summer cold got him. I am getting along in years, John, and I find
that I have to take care of myself. But if you really want to talk to me
about that piece of cotton, come out under the trees where it's cool."
The Major shoved back his papers and arose, but hesitated; and Gid
stood looking on, fanning himself. The Major stepped out and Gid's
face was split asunder with a broad smile.
"I gad. I've been up town and had a set-to with old Baucum and the rest
of them. Pulled up fifty winner at poker and jumped. Devilish glad to
see you; miss you every minute of the time I'm away. Let's go over
there and sit down on that bench."
They walked toward a bench under a live-oak tree, and upon Gid's
shoulder the Major's hand affectionately rested. They halted to laugh,
and old Gid shoved the Major away from him, then seized him and
drew him back. They sat down, still laughing, but suddenly the Major
became serious.
"Gid, I'm in trouble," he said.
"Nonsense, my boy, there is no such thing as trouble. Throw it off.
Look at me. I've had enough of what the world calls trouble to kill a

dozen ordinary men, but just look at me--getting stronger every day.
Throw it off. What is it, anyway?"
"Louise declares that she is going to marry Pennington!"
"What!" old Gid exclaimed, turning with a bouncing flounce and
looking straight at the Major. "Marry Pennington! Why, she shan't,
John. That's all there is of it. We object and that settles it. Why, what
the deuce can she be thinking about?"
"Thinking about him," the Major answered.
"Yes, but she must quit it. Why, it's outrageous for as sensible a girl as
she is to think of marrying that fellow. You leave it to me; hear what I
said? Leave it to me."
This suggested shift of responsibility did not remove the shadow of
sadness that had fallen across the Major's countenance.
"You leave it to me and I'll give her a talk she'll not forget. I'll make her
understand that she's a queen, and a woman is pretty devilish skittish
about marrying anybody when you convince her that she's a queen.
What does your wife say about it?"
"She hasn't said anything. She's out visiting and I haven't seen her since
Louise told me of her determination to marry him."
"Don't say determination, John. Say foolish notion. But it's