The Melting of Molly | Page 6

having all this hades
in this life that I mingled tears with the beads of perspiration that rolled
down my cheeks, and she snatched me out of those steaming
grave-clothes in less time than it takes to tell it, soused me in a tub of
cold water, fed me a chicken wing and a hot biscuit and the information
that I was "good-looking enough for anybody to eat up alive without all
this foolishness," all in a very few seconds. Now I have to beg her to
help me and I heard her tell her nephew, who does the gardening, that
she felt like an undertaker with such goings-on. At any rate, if it all

kills me it won't be my fault if anybody has to lie in saying that I was
"beautiful in death".
But now that more than a month has passed, I really don't mind it so
much. I feel so good and strong and prancy all the time that I can't keep
from bubbling. I have to smile at myself.
Then another thing that helps is Billy and his ball. I never could really
play with him before, but now I can't help it. But an awful thing
happened about that yesterday. We were in the garden playing over by
the lilac bushes and Billy always beats me because when he runs to
base he throws himself down and slides along on the grass on his little
stomach as he sees the real players do over at the ball grounds. Then all
of a sudden, before I knew it, I just did the same thing, and we slid to
the flower pot we use as a base together, each on his own stomach. And
what did Billy do but begin right there on the grass the kind of a tussle
we always have in the big rocking-chair on the porch! Over and over
we rolled, Billy chuckling and squealing while I laughed myself all out
of breath. I'm glad I always would wear delicious petticoats, for there,
looking right over my front fence, I discovered Judge Benton Wade. I
wish I could write down how I felt, for I never had that sensation before
and I don't believe I'll ever have it again.
I have always thought that Judge Wade was really the most wonderful
man in Hillsboro, not because he is a judge so young in life that there is
only a white sprinkle in his lovely black hair that grows back off his
head like Napoleon's and Charles Wesley's, but because of his smile,
which you wait for so long that you glow all over when you get it. I
have seen him do it once or twice at his mother when he seats her in
their pew at church and once at little Mamie Johnson when she gave
him a flower through their fence as he passed by one day last week, but
I never thought I should have one all to myself. But there it was, a most
beautiful one, long and slow and distinctly mine--at least I didn't think
much of it was for Billie. I sat up and blushed as red all over as I do
when I first hit that tub of cold water.
[Illustration: I sat up and blushed red all over]
"I hope you'll forgive an intruder, Mrs. Carter, but how could a mortal
resist a peep into the garden of the gods if he spied the queen and her
faun at play?" he said in a voice as wonderful as the smile. By that time
I had reefed in my ruffles around my feet and pushed in all my hairpins.

Billy stood spread-legged as near in front of me as he could get and
said in the rudest possible tone of voice:
"Get away from my Molly, man!"
I never was so mortified in all my life and I scrambled to my feet and
came over to the fence to get between him and Billy.
"It's a lovely day, isn't it, Judge Wade?" I asked with the greatest
interest, which I didn't really feel, in the weather; but what could I think
of to say? A woman is apt to keep the image of a good many of the
grand men she sees passing around her in queer niches in her brain, and
when one steps out and speaks to her for the first time it is confusing.
Of course I have known the judge and his mother all my life, for she is
one of Aunt Adeline's best friends, but I had a feeling from the look in
his eyes that that very minute was the first time he had ever seen me. It
was lovely and I blushed some more as I put my hand up