The Road To Providence | Page 9

"I'll let you off this time, but
don't any of you never take nothing to eat again without asking, and I'm
a-going to punish you by making you every one wash your feet in cold
water and go to bed. Now mind me and all stand to once in the tub by
the pump and tell your Paw I say not to touch that kettle of hot water. I
don't want you to have a drop. Go right on and do as I say."
The threatened punishment had been too great for the youngsters to
mind this lesser and accustomed penalty, so they retired with
cheerfulness and spirits and in a few seconds a chorus of squeals and
splashes came from the back yard.
After an exchange of friendly good-bys Mrs. Pike entered her front
door and Mother and the singer lady returned to their own front gate.

"Dearie me," said Mother in a tone of positive discouragement, "I don't
know what I will do if I have to undo another one of Tom Mayberry's
prescriptions to-day. But you couldn't expect a man to untangle a
children quirk like that; and oil woulder been the thing for the cherry
stones in children's stomachs, but not for ones throwed on the back
walk. I hope the Squire won't hear about it," she added with a laugh.
"I think," said Miss Wingate with her dark eyes fixed on Mother's face
with positive awe, "I think you are wonderful with everybody. You
know just what to do for them, and what to say to them and--"
"Well," interrupted Mother with a laugh, "it are gave to some women to
be called on the Lord's ease mission, and I reckon I'm of that band.
Don't you know I'm the daughter of a doctor, and the wife of a doctor
and the mother of one as good as either of the other two? I can't
remember the time when I didn't project with the healing of ailments.
When I married Doctor Mayberry and come down over the Ridge from
Warren County with him, he had his joke with me about my
herb-basket and a-setting up opposition to him. It's in our blood. My
own cousin Seliny Lue Lovell down at the Bluff follows the calling just
the same as I do. I say the Lord were good to me to give me the love of
it and a father and a husband and now a son to practise with."
"The Doctors Mayberry, Mother and Son, how interesting that sounds,
Mrs. Mayberry," exclaimed Miss Wingate with a delightful laugh,
"And no wonder Doctor Mayberry is so gifted that he gets National
commissions to study Pellagra and--and has a troublesome singer lady
sent all the way from New York to patch up."
"Yes, it do look like that Tom Mayberry gets in a good chanct
everywhere he goes. Some folks picks a friend offen every bush they
passes and Tom's one. He was honored considerable in New York and
then sent over to Berlin, Europe, and beyont to study up about people's
skins. And then here he comes back, sent by the Government right
down to Flat Rock, on the other side of Providence Nob, to study out
about that curious corn disease they calls Pellagra, what I don't think is
a thing in the world but itch and can be cured by a little sulphur and
hog lard. But I'm blessing the chanct that brought him back to me, even

if I know it are just for a spell. And, too, he oughter be happy to have
brung his mother such a song bird as you. I'm so used to you and your
helping me with Cindy away to Springfield, that I don't see how I ever
got along without you or ever will." As she spoke, Mother Mayberry
smiled delightedly at the singer girl and drew her closer. Mother's voice
at most times was a delicious mixture of banter and caress.
"Perhaps I'll stay always," said the singer lady as she drew close against
the gray print shoulder. "When I look around me I feel as if I had
awakened in a beautiful world with no more dirty, smoky cities that
hurt my throat, no more hot, lighted theaters, no noises, and everything
is just a great big bouquet of soft smells and colors."
As she spoke, Elinor Wingate, who was just a tired girl in the circle of
Mother Mayberry's strong arm, let her great dark eyes wander off
across the meadow to where a dim rim of Harpeth Hills seemed to close
in the valley. Her glance returned to the low, wing- spreading, brick
farm-house, which, vine-covered, lilac-hedged and maple-shaded,
seemed to nestle against the breast of Providence Nob, at whose foot
clustered the little