 | CHAPTER VIII. Dukesborough tales |  |
8. CHAPTER VIII.
It so happened that my parents had made a visit, taking me with
them, to my father's sister, who resided about a hundred miles distant.
We were gone about a couple of weeks, and returned on a Saturday
night. I wished that the next day might have been the one for the
reasons to see Mr. Bill and inquire about the parties on Rocky
Creek. The next afternoon I was walking alone in the grove, and
was surprised and pleased to see him coming up the road towards me.
I walked on to meet him.
“Why, Philip, my dear friend, you've got back, have you? I'm so
glad to see you. Mammy said you was all to git back last night, and
I thought I'd jest walk over this evenin like, and see if you had
come shore enough. And here, you are! In cose, you've heerd the
news?”
No; we had got back last night, and had seen no person but the
negroes. What news?
“About the old man Jonis. You haint heerd the news? Goodness
gracious! I'm so glad. Come along, Squire. I'm so glad.”
Mr. Bill did look even thankful. We went together to our tree.
“And you haint heerd it? Goodness gracious! I thought it would
a been all over Georgy before this. Let's set down here. Philip
Pearch, I think I told you that Jonis Lively war a book. I won't be
certing; but I think I did.”
He certainly did.
“Is it all over?” I asked.
Mr. Bill smiled at the very idea that I should have expected to get
it out of him in that style.
“Don't you forgit what I told you, Philip. Let every part have a
far chance to be interestin. Law me, law me! I'm so glad you
haint heerd it.”
Mr. Bill fixed himself as comfortably as possible among the roots
of the old tree, and thus began:—
“Well, you know, Squire, I told you that I seed that Cousin
Malviny war lookin up mighty to-wards the old man. Which I sposen
I oughtn't to say the old man now; but let that go. I seed that she
war lookin up to him, and I knowed that she war thinkin about
changin her conditions. I knowed that she had change 'em twice
already befo'; and I knowed that wimming, when they git in sich a
habit, you needn't try to alter 'em. When Cousin Malviny have made
up her mind, she take right arfter Mr. Lively. Mr. Lively, it seem,
war at first surprise, and he rather hold back. It appear like he war
hard to understand Cousin Malviny. But the more he hold back, the
more Cousin Malviny keep movin up. He see Cousin Malviny keep
widders, and he have no sich idee that she war sprusenin up so for
him. But byn-bye Mr. Lively begin to sprusen up himself, and to git
new clothes, you know; and he war monstous free and friendly like
with Cousin Malviny, and begin to talk about what ought to be done
about fixin up the house and things in ginilly; and it seem like he
and Cousin Malviny war movin up tolerble close: and I haint seed
Cousin Malviny so spry and active sense she war a widder befo',
and that war when I warn't nothin but a leetle bit of a boy.
“Well, things kept a goin on, and everybody see that they war
obleeged to come to a head, and that soon, because people knowed
they was both old enough to know thar own mind; and both of 'em a
livin in the same place, everything was so convenant like. Mr. Lively
begin to spend his money free. He have bought new clothes for
hisself, and he have bought a fine silk dress for Cousin Malviny, and
he even went so far as to give a right nice muslin to Susan. Oh he's
a book! The very day you all went away a man come thar from
Augusty and fotch a bran-new gig, and two fine bed-stids, and a
bureau, and cheers. And he never say a word to Cousin Malviny till
they got thar, and he have all the furnitoor put in the office; and
Cousin Malviny war delighted, and didn't ax him anything about it,
becase she know he war a man of mighty few words, and didn't do
things like t'other people nohow, and didn't keer about people axin
him too many questions — and which I could a told her the same.
When all this got thar people know what was a comin: leastways
they think they do. As for me, I war lookin out every day for a
invite.
“And now, lo and behold! The next mornin I war woke up by daylight
by wheels a rattlin; and our nigger-boy, who war makin me and
Mr. Jones's fire, he went to the door, and he come back and he say
that it war Mr. Lively in a new gig, and he have a female in thar
along with him, and which she have on a white dress and a veil, but
which he know it war Cousin Malviny Hodge, and they went a scootin
on. Thinks I to myself, and I says to Mr. Jones, what's the reason
they can't git married at home like t'other people? And Mr. Jones he
say that considerin they war both tolerble old people they was in a
monstous hurry from the way the wheels was a rattlin; and which
they minded him of what old Mr. Wiggins said in his sarmints about
rushin along Gallio-like, a keerin for none o' these things. Shore
thar they git married.
“I have just git up from breakfast at Spouter's, when lo and
behold! here come that gig a driving up nigh and in and about as fast
as it come by the sto'. I know that they was in for a frolic that day,
and was bent on havin of it, and I laughed when I see 'em a comin.
When they got to the tavern door, Mr. Lively he hilt up his horse,
and it war nice to see how spry the old man hop outen the gig and
hand out his wife. And she, why she farly bounce out, and bounce
up and down two or three times arfter she lit! I says to myself,
Cousin Malviny she think now she about sixteen year old. She have
on her white veil till yit, and clean till she got in the house.
“`How do you do, Mr. Williams?' says he to me when I follered in.
`A very fine morning,' says Mr. Lively. Says I, `How do you do,
Mr. Lively; or mout I now say Cousin Jonis? A fine mornin indeed,
I sposen, to you, Sir, and 'specially for sich pleasant bizness. I
wishes you much joy, Mr. Lively, and also Cousin Malviny. But,'
says I, `I did spect a invite, and I wants to know what made you two
run away in that kind o' style; for I calls it nothin but runnin away?
Why didn't you have the frolic at home, Cousin Malviny?' says I.
And then she ansered me. I tell you, Philinipinimon, she ansered
me!”
Mr. Bill paused, and seemed waiting for me to question him
further. “Why didn't they marry at home, then?” I inquired.
“Ah, yes; well mout you ax that question, my friend of the
sunny hour. When you ax that question yur talkin sense. Well, I'll
tell you. One reason why they didn't was because they couldn't.”
“They couldn't?”
“Couldn't. Onpossible. Jest as onpossible as if it had been a
bresh-heap and it afire.”
“But why not?”
“Becase Cousin Malviny wouldn't a been willin.” This was
answered almost in a whisper.
“Well, that is funny.”
“Fun to some people and death to the t'others.”
“Why, I should think she would rather marry at home.”
“She, I think you said, Philip?”
“Yes. She.”
“Well, Philmon Pearch, will you jest be kind and condescendin
enough to tell me who it is you're speakin about at the present?”
“Why, Mrs. Hodge, of course!”
“Oh!” exclaimed Mr. Bill in apparently great surprise. “Oh yes;
Cousin Malviny. Yes. Well I sposen Cousin Malviny, reasonable
speakin, she mout ruther git married at home, providin in cose that
people has got homes to git married at. I should ruther suppose
that Cousin Malviny mout some ruther git married at home.”
“Well, why didn't she do it then?”
“Do what?” Mr. Bill seemed to be growing very much abstracted.
“Get married,” said I quite distinctly.
“Git married! Ah yes. Git married. To who, Philip?”
“To Mr. Lively. What's the matter with you, Mr. Bill?”
Mr. Bill slowly elevated his eyes until they looked into the zenith
for a moment, and then he lowered them again.
“Oh! Mr. Lively! Well, when Mr. Lively he got married, you see,
Philip; when Mr. Lively he got married, Cousin Malviny she warn't
thar.”
I could have put both my fists into Mr. Bill's mouth, and there still
would have been room.
“What!” I exclaimed. “Didn't Mr. Lively marry Mrs. Hodge?”
Mr. Bill rose upon his feet, bent his head and knees forward, and
roared:
“Na-ee-ii-o-oh-WOH!”
“What! Then they didn't get married after all?”
“Yes they did.”
“Why, what do you mean, Mr. Bill? Did Mr. Lively get married?”
“Certing he did. Ef any man ever got married, Mr. Jonis Lively
got married that same mornin.”
“Who did he marry then?”
“Se-oo-woo-woosen!”
“Who?”
“See-oo-woo-woosen, Tem-em-pem-pemple. Susan! Temple!”
“Susan Temple!”
“Yes, Sir, it war Susan Temple; and I didn't have not the slightest
concate of sich a thing tell she lift up her veil and I see her with my
own blessed eyes spread out in all her mornin glories, so to speak.
Didn't I tell you, Philerimon Pearch, that that blessed an ontimely
old feller war a book? I'm not so very certing, but I ruther think
I did.”
“But what about Mrs. Hodge? What did she say?”
“Ah now,” said Mr. Bill sadly, “now, Philip, yur axin sensible
questions, but monstous long ones. You must let me git over that
first awful and ontimely skene befo' I can anser sich long questions
as them about poor Cousin Malviny. Them questions is civil questions,
I know, and I shall anser 'em; but they're mighty long questions,
Philip, and a body got to have time. Ain't he a book? Come
now, Philippippimon, my honest friend, you ax me questions; and far
play, I axes you one. Ain't he a book?”
I could but admit that if ever man was, it was Mr. Lively.
| CHAPTER VIII. Dukesborough tales | |