Mary Louise in the Country | Page 3

old
darkey.
Joe seemed to consider this question carefully before he ventured to
commit himself. Then he looked at Colonel Hathaway and said:
"What I want t' know, Boss, is whether I'm hired by the hour, er by the
day?"
"Didn't Uncle Eben tell you?"
"Naw, he didn't. He jes' said t' go git the trunks an' he'd gimme a dollar
fer the trip."
"Well, that seems to settle the question, doesn't it!"
"Not quite, Boss. I be'n thinkin' it over, on the way, an' a dollar's too
pesky cheap fer this trip. Sometimes I gits twenty-five cents a hour fer
haulin' things, an' this looks to me like a day's work."
"If you made good time," said Colonel Hathaway, "you might do it
easily in four hours."

Joe shook his head.
"Not me, sir," he replied. "I hain't got the constitution fer it. An' them
hosses won't trot 'less I lick 'em, an' ef I lick 'em I'm guilty o' cru'lty ter
animals--includin' myself. No, Boss, the job's too cheap, so I guess I'll
give it up an' go home."
"But you're nearly at the station now," protested the Colonel.
"I know; but it's half a mile fu'ther an' the hosses is tired. I guess I'll go
home."
"Oh, Gran'pa!" whispered Mary Louise, "it'll never do to leave our
trunks lying there by the railroad tracks."
The Colonel eyed Joe thoughtfully.
"If you were hired by the day," said he, "I suppose you would do a
day's work?"
"I'd hev to," admitted Joe. "That's why I 'asked ye how about it. Jes'
now it looks to me like I ain't hired at all. The black man said he'd
gimme a dollar fer the trunks, that's all."
"How much do you charge a day?" asked the Colonel.
"Dollar 'n' a quarter's my reg'lar price, an' I won't take no less," asserted
Joe.
Mary Louise nearly laughed outright, but the Colonel frowned and
said:
"Joe Brennan, you've got me at your mercy. I'm going to hire you by
the day, at a dollar and a quarter, and as your time now belongs to me I
request you to go at once for those trunks. You will find them just
beyond the station."
The man's face brightened. He tossed away the core of his apple and
jerked the reins to make the horses hold up their heads.

"A bargain's a bargain, Boss," he remarked cheerfully, "so I'll get them
air trunks to yer house if it takes till midnight."
"Very good," said the Colonel. "Drive on, Uncle."
The old servant started the motor.
"Dat's what I calls downright robbery, Kun'l," he exclaimed, highly
incensed. "Didn't I ask de stoahkeepeh what to pay Joe Brennen foh
bringin' oveh dem trunks, an' didn't he say a dolleh is big pay foh
such-like a trip? If we's gwine live in dis town, where day don' un'stand
city prices an' de high cost o' livin' yit, we gotta hol' 'em down an' keep
'em from speckilatin' with us, or else we'll spile 'em fer de time when
we's gone away."
"Very true, Uncle. Has Joe a competitor?"
Uncle Eben reflected.
"Ef he has, Kun'l, I ain't seen it," he presently replied; "but I guess all
he's got is dat lumbeh-wagin."
Mary Louise had enjoyed the controversy immensely and was relieved
by the promise of the trunks by midnight. For the first time in her life
the young orphaned girl was to play housekeeper for her grandfather
and surely one of her duties was to see that the baggage was safely
deposited in their new home.
This unknown home in an unknown town had an intense fascination for
her just now. Her grandfather had been rather reticent in his description
of the house he had rented at Cragg's Crossing, merely asserting it was
a "pretty place" and ought to make them a comfortable home for the
summer. Nor had the girl questioned him very closely, for she loved to
"discover things" and be surprised--whether pleasurably or not did not
greatly interfere with the thrill.
The motor took them speedily along a winding way to Cragg's Crossing,
a toy town that caused Mary Louise to draw a long breath of delight at

first sight. The "crossing" of two country roads had probably resulted,
at some far-back period, in farmers' building their residences on the
four corners, so as to be neighborly. Farm hands or others built little
dwellings adjoining--not many of them, though--and some unambitious
or misdirected merchant erected a big frame "store" and sold groceries,
dry goods and other necessities of life not only to the community at the
Crossing but to neighboring farmers. Then someone started the little
"hotel," mainly to feed the farmers who came to the store to trade or the
"drummers" who visited it to sell