An Arkansas Planter | Page 8

all right."
"No, it's not all right."
"What, have you failed to trust me? Is it possible that you have lost
faith in me? Don't do that, John, for if you do it will be a never failing
source of regret. You don't seem to remember what my powers of
persuasion have accomplished in the past. When I was in the legislature,
chairman of the Committee on County and County Lines, what did my
protest do? It kept them from cutting off a ten-foot strip of this county
and adding it to Jefferson. You must remember those things, John, for

in the factors of persuasion lie the shaping of human life. I've been
riding in the hot sun and I think that a mint julep would hit me now just
about where I live. Say, there, Bill, bring us some mint, sugar and
whisky. And cold water, mind you. Oh, everything will come out all
right. By the way, do you remember that Catholic priest that came here
with a letter of introduction to you?"
"Yes, his name is Brennon."
"Yes, that's it. But how did he happen to bring a letter to you?"
"He came from Maryland with a letter given him by a relative of mine."
"Yes, and he has gone to work, I tell you. Do you know what he's doing?
Reaching out quietly and gathering the negroes into his church. And
there are some pretty wise men behind him. They didn't send an
Irishman or a Dutchman or an Italian, but an American from an old
family. He's already got three negroes on my place, and Perdue tells me
that he's nipping one now and then over his way. There's a scheme in it,
John."
"There is a scheme in all human affairs, and consequently in all church
movements," the Major replied, and the impulse of a disquisition
straightened him into a posture more dignified, for he was fond of
talking and at times he strove to be logical and impressive; but at this
moment Bill arrived with mint from the spring; and with lighter talk
two juleps were made.
"Ah," said old Gideon, sipping his scented drink, "virtue may become
wearisome, and we may gape during the most fervent prayer, but I gad,
John, there is always the freshness of youth in a mint julep. Pour just a
few more drops of liquor into mine, if you please--want it to rassle me
a trifle, you know. Recollect those come-all ye songs we used to sing,
going down the river? Remember the time I snatched the sword out of
my cane and lunged at a horse trader from Tennessee? Scoundrel
grabbed it and broke it off and it was all I could do to keep him from
establishing a close and intimate relationship with me. Great old days,
John; and I Gad, they'll never come again."

"I remember it all, Gid, and it was along there that you fell in love with
a woman that lived at Mortimer's Bend."
"Easy, now, John. A trifle more liquor, if you please. Thank you. Yes, I
used to call her the wild plum. Sweet thing, and I had no idea that she
was married until her lout of a husband came down to the landing with
a double-barrel gun. Ah, Lord, if she had been single and worth money
I could have made her very happy. Fate hasn't always been my friend,
John."
"Possibly not, Gid, but you know that fate to be just should divide her
favors, and this time she leaned toward the woman."
"Slow, John. I Gad, there's your wife."
A carriage drew up at the yard gate and a woman stepped out. She did
not go into the house, but seeing the Major, came toward him. She was
tall, with large black eyes and very gray hair. In her step was suggested
the pride of an old Kentucky family, belles, judges and generals. She
smiled at the Major and bowed stiffly at old Gid. The two men arose.
"Thank you, I don't care to sit down," she said. "Where is Louise?"
"I saw her down by the river just now," the Major answered.
"I wish to see her at once," said his wife.
"Shall I go and call her, madam?" Gid asked.
She gave him a look of surprise and answered: "No, I thank you."
"No trouble, I assure you," Gid persisted. "I am pleased to say that age
has not affected my voice, except to mellow it with more of reverence
when I address the wife of a noble man and the mother of a charming
girl."
She had dignity, but humor was never lost upon her, and she smiled.
This was encouraging and old Gid proceeded: "I was just telling the
Major of my splendid