The Hearts Kingdom | Page 4

sit down, Parson, and let Charlotte give you a cup of coffee
while it is on the simmer," he urged with hasty hospitality as if intent
upon effectively bottling me up, at least for the immediate present.
"She was just pouring my cup. Will you say grace before I take my first
sip?" was the high explosive he further proceeded to hurl in my face.
And as he spoke I sank dumbly into my chair and helplessly bowed my
head to a ceremony so obsolete in the world from which I had come
that I felt as if I was slipping back into the days of the pioneer, when
the customs of life were still primitive and dictated by emotion rather
than mental science.
And there, with father's concealed mint julep right against his
interlaced fingers, the mountain lion bowed his crested head and
involved me in prayer for the first time since chapel-service in my
college days.

"The earth is the Lord's and the fullness thereof ... for which we give
thanks, thy children, with Lord Jesus, Amen!"
"Amen," mumbled father as if from the depths of embarrassment, and
against my will, as it were, a queer sort of a croon of an echo came
from my own throat.
Also that was the first time I had ever heard words of prayer under the
roof of the Poplars. It embarrassed me and I hated it and the cause of it.
The spell which had possessed me since the entrance of the Reverend
Goodloe, vanished, and the rage that had been in me at the discovery of
the intrusion of his chapel and himself upon my life when I had come
home to be free to be wicked, boiled up within me and then sugared
down to a rich--and dangerous--syrup. While I poured his coffee I
again took stock of him, this time coldly and with deadly intent. The
reasons for his entry into my hitherto satisfactory family life, even at
breakfast time, I did not know, any more than I knew the reason for the
chapel on the other side of the hollyhocks, but I felt that I feared both
and intended to get rid of them. If the enemy had been what one could
reasonably expect a young Methodist preacher to be, I would have
routed him and his meekness within the hour and had the chapel moved
to a lot on a side street in town within the week. However, when a
hunter comes suddenly upon a Harpeth jaguar he is glad to use his best
repeater and he is careful how he shoots, though if he is very skillful he
may tease the lion aloft with a few nipping shots. I felt suddenly very
strong for the fight that I knew was on, though the lion didn't possess
that knowledge as yet. Deliberately I fired a preliminary bullet that
seemed to graze father, though it left the Parson unharmed.
"Will you have your mint julep before I pour your coffee, Mr.
Goodloe?" I asked, with seemingly careless friendliness. "Dabney, put
fresh ice in father's glass and fill mine and Mr. Goodloe's."
"I was feeling a little under the weather this morning," said father
hastily, as he set his glass from behind the rose jar upon Dabney's
waiter and motioned it all away from him, thus denying the morning
friend of his lifetime. I had never drunk a julep before breakfast in my
life, only tasted around the frosty edges of father's, but I held my

ground, and held out my glass to Dabney, who falteringly, almost in
terror, took the frosted silver pitcher from the sideboard and poured me
an unusually large draft of the family beverage.
"Will you have yours now, Mr. Goodloe?" I asked again with still more
of the sugared solicitation.
"No, I believe I prefer the coffee, but don't pour it until you have drunk
your julep; you know frost is a thing that soon passes," was the cheerful
answer, though a suspicion of an amethyst glint made me know that the
Jaguar had at least heard the zip of the bullet.
I loathed that mixture of ice and sugar and mint and whiskey but I had
to drink it, and it heated me up inside both physically and mentally, and
took away all the queer dogging fear. And because of it I don't
remember what else happened at that breakfast except that I wanted to
clutch and cling to the warm, strong hand that I again found mine in at
the time of parting. But I didn't; at least, I don't think I did. After it was
taken away from me I went very slowly up to my room and again went
to bed, Mammy caressingly officiating and rejoicing that I was going