The Voice of the People

hicken and a home-cured ham. Bernard was on Miss Chris's right hand, and on the other side of the table Eugenia's seat separated the general f

ted hair brushed low over her ears and held in place by a tortoise-shell comb. There were deep channels about he

e five little head-boards to the five stillborn children had been set up amid the periwinkle in the family graveyard, Aun

o welcome her guest. From the family carriage Aunt Griselda had emerged soured and eccentric. She had gone up to the best chamber, unpacked her trunks, hung up her bombazine skirts in the closet, ordered green tea and toast, and settled herself for the remainder of her days. That was twenty years ago, and she still slept in the best chamber, and still ordered tea and

readbare when they were stretched over twenty years, and Eugenia fervently hope

length of his stay, and, as a Virginian, my h

g at intervals to reprove Bernard for taking too large mouthf

nto Miss Chris's genial face, and listening constrainedl

other pattern, and I remember when Cousin Bob Baker once sent her a set of teaspoons with a different border, she returned them to Ri

ent me eighteen miles on horseback for the doctor, because Aunt Callowell had such a queer feeling in her side when she started to walk. I can see her now holding her side and saying: 'I can't poss

ntil the table groaned, while Miss Chris's do

er eyes on the border

ridiculed in the house of her great-nephew. She scalloped me a flannel petticoat with her own hands.

his finger at her and formed the word "guest" with his mouth. Miss Chri

d cheerfully. "I think your nerves would be b

es, "though it is hard to be accused of a temper before my own nephew.

know I didn't accuse you of anything. I only meant that you woul

a. "I haven't reached my dotage yet, and I can see when

hey told me at the post-office to-day that old Dr. Smith was dead. It was only last week that I met him on hi

ld Dr. Smith attended me forty years ago when I had measles. I remember he made me lie in bed with blankets over me, though it w

Chris's absent-minded manipulations. She reached for the round, old silver pitcher, and poure

nd he would not let them give it to his son, Lawrence, when he broke his leg on the threshing machine. It was a mania with him, for, when I was n

as," said the general, "but

en he was struck down with para

front porch, and Eugenia and the puppy went wit

r the slender, unopened pods of milkweed, the puppy made sudden desperate skirmishes into the tangled pathside, pointing ineffectually at the heavy-legged insects, his red tongue lolling and his short tail wagging. Up the steep ascent of the orchard a rocky trail ran, bordered by a rail fence. Fr

and tossed the fruit to Eugenia, who held up her blue skirt beneath the overhanging boughs. The

escended and filled his pockets from Eugenia's lap.

er apple and pointed to the little brook at the foot of the hill. "There's

hillside, the puppy waddling behi

and found Nicholas Burr, who was lying face down

said Eugenia in

m, and got up, wiping his eye

body lookin'," h

ng a green apple he had taken from his pocket. "You're as big as

ckon you'd cry too if they made you sit in the

sew. I saw Nick Burr milking, though

di

y make me milk. You're

ain

u a

ain

enia, with an eye for sport, settling he

rk. "There's a powerful lot of minnows in this creek," he remarked a

the stream flashed the shining bodies of hundreds of minnows, passing back and forth with brisk wriggles of their fine, steel-coloured t

, having ventured midway upon the log, to retrea

ly, alluding to the recreant Jim. "I

tely. "He jes' don't like looking at his own f

the stream, her bare arms and vivid face mirrored against

Who-a

d Nicholas, reaching for

s Sair

ste

hat, and stood shaking her finge

fish with me to-m

got to work

't w

t hel

the mossy log and across the ploughed field, w

son-in-law, Moses, who was hoeing a small garden patch in the rear of an adjoining cabin. Delphy was a large mulatto

d, "en'tain' no use preachin' ter a nigger dat ain' got no gumption. Es de tree fall, so hit' gwine ter lay, en es a fool's done been born, so he gwine ter

ilently, making no response to his mother-in-law's vitu

syndicate. De Debbil, he ain' gwine tu'n 'm en de Lawd he can't. De preachin' it runs off 'im same es water off er duck's back. I'se done talked ter him da

, interrupting the flow of speec

r procedure, when the sharp cry of a baby came f

y in there, Delphy!

s er plum sight mo' now'n you ought ter." Then she a

Betsey'

ut he's de mos' outlandish nigger on dis ye

ght it? I saw Dr. Debs yesterday, a

wouldn't er teched hit wid er ten-foot pole. Dis yer Moses, he ain'

king Moses with disfavour. "I heard Aunt Chris say that Mrs. Willie

sech er low-lifeted creetur ez dat? He ain' wuth no dervogin', he ai

ared into Moses' cabin, while the meek-looking son-in-l

d the grapevine trellis to the back steps, when Eugenia rushed

pon the front porch. "What do you think has happened? There's a

knocking the ashes from his pipe. "Another

elessly. She seated herself upon the topmo

nd staring past the aspens and the well-house to the waving

, daug

looked u

tted cow of Mose

. "It got loose in your clover, pasture and

't leave me a roof over my head. They'll eat me into the poorhouse. But

," said Eugenia. "It looks mighty poor.

al was si

you go by Sweet Gum Spring you had just as well tell Moses that I can let him have a side of baco

s,

ention it to y

came running across the lawn from the sp

al. "Where're you off to? Wha

while Jim barked frantically from the sh

his white eyeballs circling in their socke

. "Do you expect me to believe you've got Mis

ivory teeth and stood shaki

ined. "Hit's Miss Chris herse'f dat's done sont

you! The whole place is bent on ruining me. I'll be in the poo