The Rise of Roscoe Paine | Page 4

luck, had ordered her to carry
through this vale of tears. She was a good Methodist and there was no
doubt in her mind that Providence was responsible. When she rose to
testify in prayer-meeting she always mentioned her "cross" and
everybody knew that the cross was Luther. She carried him, but it is no
more than fair to say that she didn't provide him with cushions. She
never let him forget that he was a steerage passenger. However, Lute
was well upholstered with philosophy, of a kind, and, so long as he
didn't have to work his passage, was happy, even if the voyage was a
rather rough one.
Just now he was supposed to be raking the back yard, but the rake was
between his knees, his head was tipped back against the shingled wall
of the kitchen, and he was sleeping, with the sunshine illuminating his
open mouth, "for all the world like a lamp in a potato cellar," as his
wife had said the last time she caught him in this position. She went on
to say that it was a pity he wouldn't stand on his head when he slept.
"Then I could see if your skull was as holler as I believe it is," she told
him.
Lute heard me as I passed him and woke up. The "potato cellar" closed
with a snap and he seized the rake handles with both hands.
"I was takin' a sort of observation," he explained hurriedly. "Figgerin'
whether I'd better begin here or over by the barn. Oh, it's you, Roscoe,
is it! Land sakes! I thought first 'twas Dorindy. Where you bound?"
"Up to the village," I said.
"Ain't goin' to the post-office, be you?"
"I may; I don't know."

Lute sighed. "I was kind of cal'latin' to go there myself," he observed,
regretfully. "Thoph Newcomb and Cap'n Jed Dean and the rest of us
was havin' a talk on politics last night up there and 'twas mighty
interestin'. Old Dean had Thoph pretty well out of the race when I
hauled alongside, but when I got into the argument 'twas different.
'What's goin' to become of the laborin' men of this country if you have
free trade?' I says. Dean had to give in that he didn't know. 'Might have
to let their wives support 'em,' he says, pompous as ever. 'That would
be a calamity, wouldn't it, Lute?' That wasn't no answer, of course. But
you can't expect sense of a Democrat. I left him fumin' and come away.
I've thought of a lot more questions to ask him since and I was hopin' I
could get at him this mornin'. But no! Dorindy's sot on havin' this yard
raked, so I s'pose I've got to do it."
He had dropped the rake, but now he leaned over, picked it up, and rose
from the wash bench.
"I s'pose I've got to do it," he repeated, "unless," hopefully, "you want
me to run up to the village and do your errand for you."
"No; I hadn't any errand."
"Well, then I s'pose I'd better start in. Unless there was somethin' else
you'd ruther I'd do to-day. If there was I could do this to-morrer."
"To-morrow would have one advantage: there would be more to rake
then. However, judging by Dorinda's temper this morning, I think,
perhaps, you had better do it to-day."
"What's Dorindy doin'?"
"She is dusting the dining-room."
"I'll bet you! And she dusted it yesterday and the day afore. Do you
know--" Lute sat down again on the bench--"sometimes I get real
worried about her."
"No! Do you?"

"Yes, I do. I think she works too hard. Seems's if sometimes it had kind
of struck to her brains--work, I mean. She don't think of nothin' else.
Now take the dustin', for instance. Dustin's all right; I believe in dustin'
things. But I don't believe in wearin' 'em out dustin' 'em. That ain't
sense, is it?"
"It doesn't seem like it, that's a fact."
"You bet it don't! And it ain't good religion, neither. Now take-- well,
take this yard, for instance. What is it that I'm slavin' myself over this
fine mornin'? Why, rakin' this yard! And what am I rakin'? Why, dead
leaves from last fall, and straws and sticks and pieces of seaweed and
such that have blowed in durin' the winter. And what blowed 'em in?
Why, the wind, sartin! And whose wind was it? The Almighty's, that's
whose! Now then! if the Almighty didn't intend to have dead leaves
around why did he put trees for 'em to fall off of? If he didn't want
straws and seaweed and truck around why did He send them everlastin'
no'theasters last November? Did that idea ever strike you?"
"I don't know