The Southerner | Page 2

to protest and let him have his way.

Over every inch of its heavy barrel and polished walnut stock he
rubbed a piece of greased linen with loving care, drew back the
flint-lock and greased carefully every nook and turn of its mechanism,
lifted the gun finally to his shoulder and drew an imaginary bead on the
head of a turkey gobbler two hundred yards away. A glowing coal of
hickory wood in the fire served for his game.
He lowered the gun and held it before him with pride:
"Nancy, she's the dandiest piece o' iron that wuz ever twisted inter the
shape of a weepon. Old 'Speakeasy's her name! She's got the softest
voice that ever whispered death to a varmint or an Injun--hit ain't much
louder'n the crack of a whip, but, man alive, when she talks she says
somethin'. 'Kerpeow!' she whispers soft an' low! She's got a voice like
yourn, Nancy--kinder sighs when she speaks----"
"Well," the wife broke in with a shake of her dark head, "has mother's
little boy played long enough with his toy?"
"I reckon so," Tom laughed.
"Then it's time for school." She gently took the rifle from his hands,
placed it on the buck horns and took her seat at the table.
The man looked ruefully at the stool, suddenly straightened his massive
frame, lifted his hand above his head and cocked his eye inquiringly:
"May I git er drink er water fust?"
The teacher laughed in spite of herself:
"Yes, you big lubber, and hurry up."
Tom seized the water bucket and started for the door.
"Where are you going?" she cried in dismay.
"I'll jest run down to the spring fer a fresh bucket----"

"O Tom!" she exclaimed.
"I'll be right back in a minute, Honey," he protested softly. "Hit's goin'
ter be powerful hot--I'll need a whole bucket time I'm through."
Before she could answer he was gone.
He managed to stay nearly a half hour. She put the baby to sleep and
sat waiting with her pensive young eyes gazing at the leaping flames.
She heard him stop and answer the call of an owl from the woods. A
whip-poor-will was softly singing from the bushes nearby. He stopped
to call him also, and then found an excuse to linger ten minutes more
fooling with his dogs.
The laggard came at last and dropped on his stool by her side. He sat
for five minutes staring helplessly at the copy she had set. Big beads of
perspiration stood on his forehead when he took the pen. He held it
awkwardly and timidly as if it were a live reptile. She took his clumsy
hand in hers and showed him how to hold it.
"My, but yo' hand's soft an' sweet, Nancy,--jest lemme hold that a
while----"
She rapped his knuckles.
"All right, teacher, I'll be good," he protested, and bent his huge
shoulders low over his task. He bore so hard on the frail quill pen the
ink ran in a big blot.
"Not so hard, Tom!" she cried.
"But I got so much strenk in my right arm I jist can't hold it back."
"You must try again."
He tried again and made a heavy tremulous line. His arm moved at a
snail's gait and wobbled frightfully.
"Make the line quicker," she urged encouragingly. "Begin at the top

and come down----"
"Here, you show me how!"
She took his rough hand quietly in hers, and guided it swiftly from right
to left in straight smooth lines until a dozen were made, when he
suddenly drew her close, kissed her lips, and held the slender fingers in
a grip of iron. She lay still in his embrace for a moment, released
herself and turned from him with a sigh. He drew her quickly to the
light of the fire and saw the unshed tears in her eyes.
"What's the use ter worry, Nancy gal?" he said. "Give it up ez a bad job.
I wouldn't fool with no sech scholar ef I wuz you. Ye can't teach an old
dog new tricks----"
"I won't give up!" she cried with sudden energy. "I can teach you and I
will. I won't give up and be nobody. O Tom, you promised me before
we were married to let me teach you--didn't you promise?"
"Yes, Honey, I did----" he paused and his fine teeth gleamed through
the black beard--"but ye know a feller'll promise any thing ter git his
gal----"
"Didn't you mean to keep your word?" She broke in sharply.
"Of course I did, Nancy, I never wuz more earnest in my life--'ceptin
when I got religion. But I had no idee larnin' come so hard. I'd ruther
fight Injuns an' wil' cats or rob a bee tree any day