University of Virginia Library

16. CHAPTER XVI.
JONAS EXPOUNDS THE SUBJECT.

“I 'LOWED I'd ketch you here, my venerable
and reliable feller-citizen!” said Jonas as he entered
the lower story of Andrew Anderson's castle
and greeted August, sitting by Andrew's loom.
It was the next evening after Julia's interview
with Cynthy Ann. “When do you 'low to leave this terryfirmy
and climb a ash-saplin'? To-night; hey? Goin' to the
Queen City to take to steamboat life in hopes of havin' your
sperrits raised by bein' blowed up? Take my advice and
don't make haste in the downward road to destruction, nor the
up-hill one nuther. A game a'n't never through tell it's played
out, an' the American eagle's a chicken with steel spurs.
That air sweet singer of Israel that is so hifalugeon he has
to anchor hisself to his boots, knows all the tricks, and is intimately
acquainted with the kyards, whether it's faro, poker,
euchre, or French monte. But blamed ef Providence a'n't
dealed you a better hand'n you think. Never desperandum, as
the Congressmen say, fer while the lamp holds out to burn you

may beat the blackleg all to flinders and sing and shout forever.
Last night I went to bed thinkin' 'Umphreys had the stakes all
in his pocket. This mornin' I found he was in a far way to
be beat outen his boots ef you stood yer ground like a man
and a gineological descendant of Plymouth Rock!”

Andrew stopped his loom, and, looking at August, said:

“Our friend Jonas speaks somewhat periphrastically and
euphuistically, and — he'll pardon me — but he speaks a little
ambiguously.”

“My love, I gin it up, as the fish-hawk said to the bald
eagle one day. I kin rattle off odd sayings and big words
picked up at Fourth-of-Julys and barbecues and big meetins,
but when you begin to fire off your forty-pound bomb-shell bookwords,
I climb down as suddent as Davy Crockett's coon.
Maybe I do speak unbiguously, as you say, but I was givin' you
the biggest talkin' I had in the basket. And as fer my good
news, a feller don't like to eat up all his country sugar to
wunst, I 'low. But I says to our young and promisin' friend
of German extraction, beloved, says I, hold onto that air limb
a little longer and you're saved.”

“But, Jonas,” said August, spinning Andrew's winding-blade
round and speaking slowly and bitterly, “a man don't
like to be trifled with, if he is a Dutchman!”

“But sposin' a man hain't been trifled with, Dutchman or
no Dutchman? Sposin' it's all a optical delusion of the yeers?
There's a word fer you, Andrew, that a'n't nuther unbiguous
nor peri-what-you-may-call-it.”

“But,” said August, “Betsey Malcolm—”

“Betsey Malcolm!” said Jonas. “Betsey Malcolm to thunder!”
and then he whistled. “Set a dog to mind a basket

of meat when his chops is a-waterin' fer it! Set a kingfisher
to take keer of a fish-pond! Set a cat to raisin' your orphan
chickens on the bottle! Set a spider to nuss a fly sick with
dyspepsy from eatin' too much molasses! I'd ruther trust a
hen-hawk with a flock of patridges than to trust Betsey Malcolm
with your affairs. I ha'n't walked behind you from
meetin' and seed her head a bobbin' like a bluebird's and her
eyes a blazin' an' all that, fer nothin'. Like as not, Betsey
Malcolm's more nor half your trouble in that quarter.”

“But she said—”

“It don't matter three quarters of a rotten rye-straw what
she said, my inexper'enced friend. She don't keer what she
says, so long as it's fur enough away from the truth to sarve
her turn. An' she's told pay-tent double-back-action lies that
worked both ways. What do you 'low Jule Anderson tho't
when she hearn tell of your courtin' Betsey, as Betsey told it,
with all her nods an' little crowin'? Now looky here, Gus,
I'm your friend, as the Irishman said to the bar that hugged
him, an' I want to say about all that air that Betsey told you,
spit on the slate an' wipe that all off. They's lie in her soap an'
right smart chance of saft-soap in her lie, I 'low.”

These rough words of Jonas brought a strange intelligence
into the mind of August. He saw so many things in a moment
that had lain under his eyes unnoticed.

“There is much rough wisdom in your speech, Jonas,” said
Andrew.

“That's a fact. You and me used to go to school to old
Benefield together when I was little and you was growed up.
You allers beat everybody all holler in books and spellin'-matches,
Andy. But I 'low I cut my eye-teeth 'bout as airly as

[ILLUSTRATION]

JONAS.

[Description: 555EAF. Page 112. In-line engraving of head and shoulders of a man with a beard in a hat.] some of you that's got more larnin' under your skelp. Now, I
say to our young friend and feller-citizen, don't go 'way tell
you've spoke a consolin' word to a girl as'll stick to you tell
the hour and article of death, and then remains yours truly forever,
amen.”

“How do you know that, Jonas?” said August, smiling in
spite of himself.

“How do I know it? Why, by the testimony of a uncorrupted
and disinterested witness, gentlemen of the jury, if the
honorable court pleases. What did that Jule Anderson do, poor

thing, but spend some time making a most onseasonable visit to
Cynthy Ann last night? And I 'low ef there's a ole gal in this
sublunary spear as tells the truth in a bee-line and no nonsense,
it's that there same, individooal, identical Cynthy Ann. She's
most afeard to drink cold water or breathe fresh air fer fear
she'll commit a unpard'nable sin. And that persecuted young
pigeon that thought herself forsooken, jest skeeted into Cynthy
Ann's budwoir afore daybreak this mornin' and told her all
her sorrows, and how your letter and your goin' with that Betsey
Malcolm”—here August winced—“had well nigh druv her to
run off with the straps and watch-seals to get rid of you and
Betsey and her precious and mighty affectionate ma.”

“But she won't look at me in meeting, and she sent Humphreys
to me with an insulting message.”

“Which text divides itself into two parts, my brethren and
feller-travelers to etarnity. To treat the last head first, beloved,
I admonish you not to believe a blackleg, unless it's under sarcumstances
when he's got onusual and airresistible temptations
to tell the truth. I don't advise yer to spit on the slate and rub
it out in this case. Break the slate and throw it away. To
come to the second pertikeler, which is the first in the order
of my text, my attentive congregation. She didn't look at you
in meetin'. Now, I 'spose you don't know nothin' of her mother's
heart-disease. Heart-disease is trumps with Abigail Anderson.
She plays that every turn. Just think of a young gal who
thinks that ef she looks at her beau when her mother's by,
she might kill her invalooable parient of heart-disease. Fer my
part, I don't take no stock in Mrs. Abby Anderson's dyin' of
heart-disease, no ways. Might as well talk about a whale dyin'
of footrot.”

“Well, Jonas, what counsel do you give our young friend?
Your sagacity is to be depended on.”

“Why, I advise him to speak face to face with the angel of
his life. Let him climb into my room to-night. Leave meetin'
jest afore the benediction—he kin do without that wunst—and
go double-quick acrost the fields, and git safe into my stoodio.
Ferther pertikelers when the time arrives.”