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diff --git a/28439-h/28439-h.htm b/28439-h/28439-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5ac7001 --- /dev/null +++ b/28439-h/28439-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,7813 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> +<title> +The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Comings of Cousin Ann, by Emma Speed Sampson. +</title> + +<style type="text/css"> + p {margin-top: 0.5em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: 0.5em;} + body {margin-left: 11%; margin-right: 10%;} + a {text-decoration: none;} + @media screen { + hr.pb {margin:30px 0; width:100%; border:none;border-top:thin dashed silver;} + .pagenum {display: inline; font-size: x-small; text-align: right; position: absolute; right: 2%; padding: 1px 3px; font-style: normal; font-variant:normal; font-weight:normal; text-decoration: none; background-color: inherit; border:1px solid #eee;} + .pncolor {color: silver;} + } + @media print { + hr.pb {border:none;page-break-after: always;} + .pagenum { display:none; } + } + h3 {text-align:center; font-weight:normal; font-size:1.2em;} + table.titlepage p {text-align:center; margin:0 auto;} + hr.copyr {border:none; border-bottom: 1px solid black; width:30px;} + .caption {font-size:.8em;} + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; clear: both;} + h1 {text-align:center; font-weight:normal; font-size:1.6em;} + hr.major {width: 65%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; clear:both;} + h2 {text-align:center; font-weight:normal; font-size:1.4em;} +</style> + +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's The Comings of Cousin Ann, by Emma Speed Sampson + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Comings of Cousin Ann + +Author: Emma Speed Sampson + +Release Date: March 29, 2009 [EBook #28439] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COMINGS OF COUSIN ANN *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h1>The Comings of Cousin Ann</h1> +<hr class='pb' /> +<table class='titlepage' summary='' style='border:double'> + <tr><td> + <p style='font-size:2em;margin:1em 2em 1.4em 2em;'>The Comings of<br />Cousin Ann</p> + <p>By</p> + <p style='font-size:1.2em;'>Emma Speed Sampson</p> + <p style='font-size:0.9em;margin-top:0.5em; margin-bottom:1em;'>Author of<br />“Mammy’s White Folks”<br /> + “Billy and the Major”<br />“Miss Minerva’s Baby”<br />“The Shorn Lamb”</p></td></tr> + <tr> + <td style='text-align:center;'><img style='margin:2em auto;' src="images/illus-emb.png" alt='emblem' /></td> + </tr> + <tr><td><p style='font-size:1.2em;letter-spacing:0.15em; margin-bottom:1em;'>Reilly & Lee Co.<br />Chicago</p> + </td></tr> +</table> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p style='text-align:center;'><i>Printed in the United States of America</i><br /><br /> +<i>Copyright, 1923</i> +<i>by</i> +The Reilly & Lee Co.</p> + +<hr class='copyr' /> + +<p style='text-align:center;'><i>All Rights Reserved<br /><br /> +The Comings of Cousin Ann</i></p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<h3>CONTENTS</h3> +<table border='0' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='Contents' style='margin:1em auto;'> +<tr> + <td align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-size:small;'>CHAPTER</span></td> + <td></td> + <td align='right'><span style='font-size:small;'>PAGE</span></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>I</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Veterans of Ryeville</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_I_THE_VETERANS_OF_RYEVILLE'>9</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>II</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Cousin Ann at Buck Hill</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_II_COUSIN_ANN_AT_BUCK_HILL'>20</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>III</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Cousin Ann is Affronted</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_III_COUSIN_ANN_IS_AFFRONTED'>32</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>IV</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Energy of Judith</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_IV_THE_ENERGY_OF_JUDITH'>44</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>V</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Uncle Billy’s Diplomacy</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_V_UNCLE_BILLYS_DIPLOMACY'>58</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VI</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>A Question of Kinship</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VI_A_QUESTION_OF_KINSHIP'>68</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Judith Makes a Hit</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VII_JUDITH_MAKES_A_HIT'>77</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VIII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Cousin Ann Looks Backward</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VIII_COUSIN_ANN_LOOKS_BACKWARD'>89</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>IX</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Veterans’ Big Secret</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_IX_THE_VETERANS_BIG_SECRET'>98</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>X</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Judith Scores Again</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_X_JUDITH_SCORES_AGAIN'>111</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XI</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>A Surprise for Cinderella</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XI_A_SURPRISE_FOR_CINDERELLA'>123</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Jeff Gives a Pledge</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XII_JEFF_GIVES_A_PLEDGE'>136</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XIII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Debut Party</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XIII_THE_DEBUT_PARTY'>144</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XIV</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>On With the Dance</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XIV_ON_WITH_THE_DANCE'>156</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XV</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Cinderella Revealed</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XV_CINDERELLA_REVEALED'>165</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XVI</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Morning After</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XVI_THE_MORNING_AFTER'>176</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XVII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Uncle Billy Makes a Call</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XVII_UNCLE_BILLY_MAKES_A_CALL'>185</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XVIII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>A Cavalier O’erthrown</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XVIII_A_CAVALIER_OERTHROWN'>193</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XIX</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Miss Ann Moves On</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XIX_MISS_ANN_MOVES_ON'>202</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XX</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>A Heart-Warming Welcome</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XX_A_HEARTWARMING_WELCOME'>212</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXI</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Clan in Conclave</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXI_THE_CLAN_IN_CONCLAVE'>220</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>A Great Transformation</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXII_A_GREAT_TRANSFORMATION'>228</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXIII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Lost Is Found</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXIII_THE_LOST_IS_FOUND'>237</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXIV</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Blessings Begin to Flow</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXIV_BLESSINGS_BEGIN_TO_FLOW'>251</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXV</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Uncle Billy Smiles</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXV_UNCLE_BILLY_SMILES'>262</a></td> +</tr> +</table> +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2>The Comings of Cousin Ann</h2> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_9' name='page_9'></a>9</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_I_THE_VETERANS_OF_RYEVILLE' id='CHAPTER_I_THE_VETERANS_OF_RYEVILLE'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER I</h2> +<h3>The Veterans of Ryeville</h3> +</div> +<p>Ryeville had rather prided itself on having +the same population—about three thousand—for +the last fifty years. That is the oldest inhabitants +had, but the newer generation was for +expansion in spite of tradition, and Ryeville +awoke one morning, after the census taker had +been busying himself, to find itself five thousand +strong and still growing.</p> +<p>There was no especial reason for the growth +of the little town, save that it lay in the heart +of rolling blue-grass country and people have to +live somewhere. And Ryeville, with its crooked +streets and substantial homes, was as good a +place as any. There were churches of all +denominations, schools and shops, a skating rink, +two motion picture houses and as many drug +stores as there had been barrooms before prohibition +made necessary a change of front. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_10' name='page_10'></a>10</span> +There were two hotels—one where you +“could” and one where you “couldn’t.” The +former was frequented by the old men of the +town and county. It stood next to the courthouse. +Indeed its long, shady porch overlooked +the courthouse green. There the old men would +sit with chairs tilted against the wall and feet +on railing and sadly watch the prohibition +officers hauling bootleggers to court.</p> +<p>There were a great many old men in Ryeville +and the country around—more old men than +old women, in spite of the fact that that part +of Kentucky had furnished its quota of recruits +for both Union and Rebel armies.</p> +<p>In Kentucky, during the war between the +states, brother had been pitted against brother—even +father against son. The fact that the +state did not secede from the Union had been a +reason for the most intense bitterness and ill +feeling among families and former friends. The +bitterness was gone now and ill feeling forgotten. +The veterans of the blue and the gray sat +on the Rye House porch together, swapping +tales and borrowing tobacco as amicably as +though they had never done their best to exterminate +one another.</p> +<p>“As for Abe Lincoln,” declared Major Fitch, +an ancient confederate, “if it hadn’t been for +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_11' name='page_11'></a>11</span> +him Gawd knows what we’d ’a’ had to talk about +in these dry days. I tell you, sah, we ought to +be eternally grateful to Abe Lincoln. I for one +am. I was a clerk in a country store when the +war broke out and I’d ’a’ been there yet if it +wasn’t for the war. I’m here to say it made me +and made my fam’ly. We were bawn fighters—my +fo’ brothers and I—and up to the sixties +we were always in trouble for brawling. The +war came along and made a virtue of our vices. +My mother used to be mighty ’shamed when she +heard we were called the ‘Fighting Fitches.’ +That was befo’ the war, and one or the other of +us boys was always up befo’ the co’t for wild +carrying on. But, bless Bob, when we were +called ‘Fighting Fitches’ for whipping the +Yankees the old lady was as pleased as Punch.”</p> +<p>“What did they call ye fer not bein’ able to +whup us?” asked a grinning old giant from the +mountains.</p> +<p>“Nothin’—’cause we were able. All we +needed was mo’ men and mo’ food and mo’ guns. +We’d ’a’ licked the spots off of you Yanks if we +had had a chance. You wouldn’t stand still +long enough to get whipped.”</p> +<p>So the talk went on, day in and day out. Battles +were fought over and over but never finished. +They always ended with a draw and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_12' name='page_12'></a>12</span> +could be resumed the next morning with added +zest and new incidents. One old man, Pete +Barnes, who had the distinction of being the +only private who frequented the porch at Rye +House, always claimed to have been present at +every battle mentioned—even Bunker Hill and +the battle of New Orleans.</p> +<p>“Yes sirree, I was there; nothin’ but a youngster, +but I was there!” he would assert. “There +wasn’t a single battle the Fo’th Kentucky Volunteers +didn’t get in on an’ the Johnny Rebs +would run like hell when they heard we were +comin’. I tell you when we got them a goin’ +was at Fredericksburg in ’62—must have been +’bout the middle of December. We beat ’em +even worse than we did at Chickamauga the following +year.”</p> +<p>“Aw dry up, Pete. You know perfectly well +the Yanks got licked at both of those battles,” +a jovial opponent would declare, but Pete +Barnes was as sure his side had won as he was +that he had been present at the surrender of +Cornwallis and there was no use in trying to +persuade him otherwise.</p> +<p>The Rye House faced on Main Street and +nothing happened on that thoroughfare that +escaped the oldsters on the porch. If anything +was going on all they had to do was move their +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_13' name='page_13'></a>13</span> +chairs from the side porch to the front, whether +it was a circus parade or a funeral, or just Miss +Ann Peyton’s rickety coach bearing her to Buck +Hill, which was the first large farm the other +side of the creek, the dividing line between Ryeville +and the country. There were several small +places but Buck Hill the only one of importance.</p> +<p>On a morning in June the old men sat on the +porch as usual, with feet on railing and chairs +tilted to the right angle for aged backbones. +Nothing much had happened all morning. The +sun was about the only thing that was moving +in Ryeville and that had finally got around to +the side porch and was shining full on Colonel +Crutcher’s outstretched legs.</p> +<p>“I reckon we’d better move,” he said wearily. +“Th’ain’t much peace and quiet these days, what +with the sun.”</p> +<p>“Heat’s something awful,” agreed Pete +Barnes, “but it ain’t a patchin’ on what it was +at Cowpens.”</p> +<p>“Cowpens!” exclaimed a necktie drummer +who was stopping at the Rye House for a day +or so, “I thought Cowpens was a battle fought +between the United States and the English back +in 1781.”</p> +<p>“Sure, sure!” agreed Pete, “I was a mere +lad, but I was there.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_14' name='page_14'></a>14</span></p> +<p>“It was in January, too,” persisted the drummer.</p> +<p>“Of course, but we made it so hot for the—for +the other side that this June weather is +nothin’ to it.”</p> +<p>There was a general laugh and moving of +chairs out of the rays of the inconsiderate sun.</p> +<p>“By golly, we’re just in time,” said Colonel +Crutcher. “There comes Miss Ann Peyton’s +rockaway. Where do you reckon she’s bound +for?”</p> +<p>“Lord knows, but I hope she’s not in a +hurry,” said Judge Middleton—judge from +courtesy only, having sat on no bench but the +anxious bench at the races and being a judge +solely of horses and whiskey. “Did you ever see +such snails as that old team? Good Golddust +breed too! Miss Ann always buys good horses +when she does buy but to my certain knowledge +that pair is eighteen years old. Pretty nigh +played out by now but I reckon they’ll outlast +old Billy and Miss Ann.”</p> +<p>“I reckon the old lady has to do some +scrimpin’ to buy a new pair,” said Major Fitch. +“By golly, I remember when she was the best-looking +gal in the county—or any other county +for that matter. She was engaged to a fellow in +my regiment—killed at Appomattox. She had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_15' name='page_15'></a>15</span> +more beaux than you could shake a stick at, but +I reckon she couldn’t get over Bert Mason. She +wasn’t much more than a child when the war +broke out, but the war aged the girls as it did +the boys.”</p> +<p>“I hear tell Miss Ann is on the move right +smart lately,” ventured Pete Barnes.</p> +<p>“So they tell me,” continued Major Fitch. +“I tell you, havin’ comp’ny now isn’t what it +used to be, what with wages up sky-high and +all the niggers gone to Indianapolis and Chicago +so there aren’t any to pay even if you had the +money, and food costin’ three times what it’s +wuth. I reckon it is no joke to have Miss Ann +a fallin’ in on her kin nowadays with two +horses that must have oats and that old Billy to +fill up besides.”</p> +<p>“Yes, and Little Josh tells me Miss Ann +is always company wherever she stays,” said the +Judge. “He wasn’t exactly complaining but +just kind of explaining. You see his wife, that +last one, just up and said she wouldn’t and she +wouldn’t. I reckon Miss Ann kind of wore out +her welcome last time she was there because she +came just when Mrs. Little Josh was planning +a trip to White Sulphur and Miss Ann wouldn’t +take the hint and the journey had to be put off +and then the railroad strike came along and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16' name='page_16'></a>16</span> +Little Josh was afraid to let his wife start for +fear she couldn’t get back. Mrs. Little Josh is +as sore as can be about it and threatens if Miss +Ann comes any more that she will invite all of +her own kin at the same time and see which side +can freeze out the other. The old lady hasn’t +been there this year and she hasn’t been to Big +Josh’s either. Big Josh’s daughters have read +the riot act, so I hear, and they say if their old +cousin comes to them without being invited they +are going to try some visiting on their own hook +and leave Big Josh to do the entertaining. +They say he is great on big talk about family +ties and the obligations of kinship but that they +have all the trouble and when their Cousin Ann +Peyton visits them he simply takes himself off +and leaves them to do the work. Big Josh lives +up such a muddy lane it’s hard to keep servants.”</p> +<p>Miss Ann’s lumbering carriage had hardly +reached the far corner when the attention of the +old men on the porch was arrested by a small, +low-swung motor car of the genus runabout. No +doubt its motor and wheels had been turned out +of a factory but the rest of it was plainly home +made. It was painted a bright blue. The rear +end might have applied for a truck license, as +it was evidently intended as a bearer of burdens, +but the front part had the air of a racer and the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17' name='page_17'></a>17</span> +eager young girl at the wheel looked as though +she might be more in sympathy with the front +of her car than the back. Be that as it may, +she was determined not to let her sympathies +run away with her but, much to the delight of +the dull old men on the Rye House porch, she +stopped her car directly in front of them and +carefully rearranged a number of mysterious-looking +parcels in the truck end of her car.</p> +<p>“Hiyer, Miss Judith?” called Pete Barnes. +The girl must stop her engine to hear what the +old man was saying.</p> +<p>“What is it?” she called back gaily.</p> +<p>“I just said hiyer?”</p> +<p>“Fine! Hiyer, yourself?” she laughed pleasantly, +although stopping the engine entailed +getting out and cranking, since her car boasted +no self-starter.</p> +<p>All of the old men bowed familiarly to the +girl and indulged in some form of pleasantry.</p> +<p>“Bootlegging now, or what are you up to?” +asked Major Fitch.</p> +<p>“Worse than that—perfumes and soaps, +tooth pastes and cold creams, hair tonics and +henna dips, silver polish and spot removers—pretty +near everything or a little of it; but I’m +going to come call on all of you when I get my +wares sorted out.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18' name='page_18'></a>18</span></p> +<p>“Do! Do!” they responded, but she was in +and off before they could say more.</p> +<p>“Gee, that’s a pretty girl!” exclaimed the +necktie drummer.</p> +<p>“I reckon she is,” grunted Colonel Crutcher, +“pretty and good and sharp as a briar and +quick as greased lightning. There isn’t a girl +like her anywhere around these parts. I don’t +see what the young folks of the county are thinking +about, leaving her out of all their frolics.”</p> +<p>“Well, you see—” put in another old man.</p> +<p>“Yes, I see the best-looking gal of the bunch +and the spunkiest and the equal of any of them +and the superior of most as far as manners and +brains are concerned, just because she comes of +plain folks—”</p> +<p>“A little worse than plain, Crutcher,” put in +Judge Middleton. “Those Bucks—”</p> +<p>“Oh, then she lives at Buck Hill?” asked +the drummer.</p> +<p>“Buck Hill! Heavens man! The Bucknors +live at Buck Hill and are about the swellest folk +in Kentucky. The Bucks live in a little place +this side of Buck Hill. There’s nobody left but +this Judy gal and her mother. I reckon their +place would have gone for debt if it hadn’t so +happened that the trolley line from Louisville +cut through it and they sold the right of way +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19' name='page_19'></a>19</span> +for enough to lift the mortgage. They do say +that the Bucknors and Bucks were the same +folks originally but that was in the early days +and somehow the Bucks got down and the Bucknors +staid up. Now the Bucknors would no +more acknowledge the relationship to the Bucks +than the Bucks would expect them to.”</p> +<p>“I should think anybody would be proud to +claim kin with a peach like that girl,” said Major +Fitch. “Her mother is a pretty good sort too, +but slow. I reckon when they get cousinly +inclined they always think of old Dick Buck, +Judy’s grandfather, who was enough to cool the +warmest feelings of kinship.”</p> +<p>Nodding assent to the Major’s remark, the +veterans lapsed into sleepy silence.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20' name='page_20'></a>20</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_II_COUSIN_ANN_AT_BUCK_HILL' id='CHAPTER_II_COUSIN_ANN_AT_BUCK_HILL'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> +<h3>Cousin Ann at Buck Hill</h3> +</div> +<p>“Here comes Cousin Ann!” It was a wail +from the depth of Mildred Bucknor’s heart.</p> +<p>“Surely not!” cried her mother. “There are +lots of other places for her to visit before our +turn comes again. There’s Uncle Tom’s and +Cousin Betty’s and Sister Sue’s, and Big Josh +and Little Josh haven’t had her for at least a +year. Are you sure, Mildred?”</p> +<p>“It looks like the old rockaway and Uncle +Billy’s top hat,” said Mildred. “It is too much +to bear just when we are going to have a house +party! Mother, please tell her it isn’t convenient +this June and have her go on to Big +Josh’s.”</p> +<p>“Oh, my dear, you know Father wouldn’t +hear of my doing that. Maybe it isn’t she after +all. Nan, climb up on the railing and see if +that could be Cousin Ann Peyton’s carriage +coming along the pike and turning into the +avenue.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21' name='page_21'></a>21</span></p> +<p>“Well, all I have to say is if it is her—”</p> +<p>“She,” corrected her mother.</p> +<p>“Her carriage. Wait until I finish my sentence, +Mother, before you correct me,” and the +girl climbed on the railing of the front porch +where the ladies of the Bucknor family were +wont to spend the summer mornings. Clinging +to one of the great fluted columns she tiptoed, +trying to peer through the cloud of limestone +dust that enveloped the approaching vehicle.</p> +<p>“It’s her all right and I don’t care what kind +of grammar I use to express my disgust,” and +Nan jumped from the railing. “I don’t see +why—”</p> +<p>“Well, my dear, it can’t be helped. You +know how your father feels about his kin. Better +run and tell Aunt Em’ly to send Kizzie up +to get the guest chamber in order.”</p> +<p>“Oh, Mother, you know it is in order. Nan +and I have been busy up there all morning getting +it ready for the girls. We’ve even got +flowers all fixed and clean bureau scarves and +everything,” said Mildred, trying not to weep.</p> +<p>“Yes, and linen sheets. We thought you +wouldn’t mind, Mother, because you see Jean +Roland is used to such fine doings, and this is +her first visit to Kentucky. We know you have +only three pairs of linen sheets but this seemed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22' name='page_22'></a>22</span> +the psychological time to use them. I’ve a great +mind to go yank them off the bed.”</p> +<p>“But, Mother,” pleaded Mildred, “couldn’t +we put old Cousin Ann Peyton in the little hall +room? I can’t see why she always has to have +the guest chamber. She’s no better than anybody +else.”</p> +<p>“But your father—”</p> +<p>“What difference will it make to Father? He +needn’t even know where we put Cousin Ann.”</p> +<p>“What do you think about it, Aunt Em’ly?” +Mrs. Bucknor asked the lean old colored woman +who appeared in the doorway. “Here comes +Miss Ann Peyton, and the young ladies want +to put her in the little hall bedroom because they +have planned to put their company in the guest +chamber?”</p> +<p>“Think! I think I’m a plum fool not ter +have wrang the neck er that ol’ dominick rooster +yestiddy when he spent the whole day a crowin’ +fer comp’ny. I pretty nigh knowed we were in +fer some kind er visitation.”</p> +<p>“Maybe he was crowing for our house party,” +suggested Nan.</p> +<p>“No, honey, that there rooster don’t never +crow for ’vited comp’ny. Now if I had er wrang +his neck he’d ’a’ been in the pot, comp’ny or no, +an’ it ’ud cure him of any mo’ reckless crowin’.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23' name='page_23'></a>23</span></p> +<p>“But, Aunt Em’ly, what do you think about +putting Miss Ann in the hall room?”</p> +<p>“Think! I think she’ll git her back up an’ +that ol’ Billy’ll be shootin’ off his mouf, but we-all +done entertained Miss Ann an’ ol’ Billy an’ +them ca’ige hosses goin’ onter three months +already this year an’ it’s high time some er the +res’ of the fambly step up. What’s the matter +with Marse Big Josh? An’ if he air onable +what’s the matter with Marse Lil Josh? Yassum, +put her in the hall room an’ ’fo’ Gawd I’ll +make that ol’ Billy keep his feet out’n the oven, +if not this summer, nex’ winter. He’s the +orneris’ nigger fer wantin’ ter sit with his feet +in the oven.”</p> +<p>“Then, Mother, may we keep the guest chamber +for the girls? Please say yes!” begged Nan. +“Aunt Em’ly thinks it is all right and you know +you have always been telling us to mind Aunt +Em’ly because she has such good judgment.”</p> +<p>“Well, my jedgment air that Miss Ann +oughter been occupewin’ the hall room for some +fifty year or mo’, ever sence she an’ that ol’ Billy +took ter comin’ so reg’lar,” said Aunt Em’ly. +“If I had it ter do over I’d never ’a’ let him +git so free with his feet in the oven. The truf +er the matter is, Miss Milly, that you an’ Marse +Bob Bucknor an’ all yo’ chilluns as well, long +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24' name='page_24'></a>24</span> +with all the res’ of the fambly includin’ of Marse +Big Josh an’ Marse Lil Josh, done accepted of +Miss Ann Peyton an’ ol’ Billy an’ the ca’ige +hosses like they wa’ the will of the Almighty. +Well, now le’s see if Miss Ann Peyton can’t +accept the hall room like it wa’ the will er the +Almighty an’ if ol’ Billy can’t come ter some +’clusion that Gawd air aginst his dryin’ out his +ol’ feet in my oven.”</p> +<p>While this discussion was going on, the cloud +of limestone dust had disappeared and from it +had emerged a quaint old coach, lumbering and +shabby, drawn by a pair of sleek sorrel horses, +whose teeth would have given evidence of +advanced age had a possible purchaser submitted +them to the indignity of examining them. Their +progress was slow and sedate, although the +driver handled the reins as though it were with +difficulty that he restrained them from prancing +and cavorting as they neared the mansion.</p> +<p>Old Billy’s every line, from his dented top hat +to his well-nigh soleless boots, expressed dignity +and superiority. He was quite sure that being +coachman to Miss Ann Peyton gave him the +right to wipe those worn boots on the rest of +mankind.</p> +<p>“Look at that ol’ fool nigger!” exclaimed +Aunt Em’ly in disgust. “Settin’ up there +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25' name='page_25'></a>25</span> +lookin’ mo’ like a monkey than a man in that +long-tail blue coat with brass buttons an’ his ha’r +like cotton wool an’ whiskers so long he haster +wrop ’em. The onlies wuck that nigger ever +does is jes’ growin’ whiskers.”</p> +<p>“Oh, come now, Aunt Em’ly,” remonstrated +a young man who stepped from the study window +on the porch as the old coach lumbered up +the driveway, “Uncle Billy keeps his horses in +better condition than any on our farm are kept. +Poor old Uncle Billy!”</p> +<p>“Poor old Uncle Billy, indeed!” snapped +Mildred. “I reckon, Brother Jeff, you’d say +poor old Cousin Ann, too.”</p> +<p>“Of course I would. I can’t think of any +person in the world I feel much sorrier for.”</p> +<p>“Well, I can. I feel lots sorrier for Nan and +me with our house party on hand and Cousin +Ann turning up for the second time since Christmas. +It’s all well enough for you and Father +to be so high and mighty about honoring the +aged, and blood being thicker than water and +so on. You don’t have to sleep with Cousin +Ann, the way Nan and I do sometimes.”</p> +<p>“We-ell, no!” laughed Jeff.</p> +<p>“Hush, Mildred. Remember how Father +feels about the comings of Cousin Ann. You +and Nan must be polite.” Mrs. Bucknor sighed, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26' name='page_26'></a>26</span> +realizing she was demanding of her daughters +something that was difficult for her to perform +herself. Being polite to Cousin Ann had been +the most arduous task imposed upon that wife +and mother during twenty-five years of married +life.</p> +<p>At the yard gate Uncle Billy drew in his +steeds with a great show of their being unwilling +to stop. He turned as though to command the +footman to alight and open the door of the +coach. With feigned astonishment at there being +no footman, he climbed down from the box +with so much dignity that even Aunt Em’ly +was impressed, though unwilling to acknowledge +it.</p> +<p>“That ol’ nigger certainly do walk low for +anybody who sets so high,” she whispered to Mildred. +The bowing of Uncle Billy’s legs in truth +took many inches from his height. But the old +man, in spite of crooked legs, worn-out boots, +shabby livery and battered high hat, carried himself +with the air of a prime minister. Miss Ann +Peyton was his queen.</p> +<p>There was an expression of infinite pathos on +the countenance of the old darkey as he opened +the door of the ancient coach. Bowing low, as +though to royalty, he said, “Miss Ann, we air +done arrive.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27' name='page_27'></a>27</span></p> +<p>Jeff Bucknor took his mother’s arm and +gently led her down the walk. Involuntarily +she stiffened under his affectionate grasp and +held back. It was all very well for the men +of the family to take the stand they did concerning +Cousin Ann Peyton and her oft-repeated +visits. Men had none of the bother of company. +Of course she would be courteous to her +and always treat her with the consideration due +an aged kinswoman, but she could not see the +use of pretending she was glad to see her and +rushing down the walk to meet her as though +she were an honored guest.</p> +<p>“It is hard on Mildred and Nan,” she murmured +to her stalwart son, as he escorted her +towards the battered coach.</p> +<p>“Yes, Mother, but kin is kin—and the poor +old lady hasn’t any real home.”</p> +<p>“Well then she might—There are plenty of +them—very good comfortable ones—”</p> +<p>“You mean homes for old ladies? Oh, +Mother, you know Father would never consent +to that. Neither would Uncle Tom nor Big +Josh. She would hate it and then there’s Uncle +Billy and the horses—Cupid and Puck—to +say nothing of the chariot.”</p> +<p>Further discussion was impossible. Mother +and son reached the yard gate as Uncle Billy +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28' name='page_28'></a>28</span> +opened the coach door and announced the fact +that Miss Ann had arrived at her destination. +Then began the unpacking of the visitor. It +was a roomy carriage, and well that it was so. +When Miss Peyton traveled she traveled. Having +no home, everything she possessed must be +carried with her. Trunks were strapped on the +back of the coach and inside with the mistress +were boxes and baskets and bundles, suitcases +and two of those abominations known as telescopes, +from which articles of clothing were +bursting forth.</p> +<p>It was plain to see from the untidy packing +that Miss Ann and Uncle Billy had left their +last abode in a hurry. Even Miss Peyton’s +features might have been called untidy, if such +a term could be used in connection with a countenance +whose every line was aristocratic. As a +rule that lady was able so to control her emotions +that the uninitiated were ignorant of the fact +that she had emotions. She gave one the impression +on that morning in June of having packed +her emotions hurriedly, as she had her clothes, +and they were darting from her flashing eyes +as were garments from the telescopes.</p> +<p>Gently, almost as though he were performing +a religious rite, Uncle Billy lifted the shabby +baggage from the coach. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29' name='page_29'></a>29</span></p> +<p>“Let me help you, Uncle Billy. Good morning, +Cousin Ann. I am very glad to see you,” +said Jeff, although it was impossible to see +Cousin Ann until some of the luggage was +removed.</p> +<p>“Thank you, cousin.” Miss Ann spoke from +the depths of the coach. Her voice trembled a +little.</p> +<p>At last, every box, bag and bundle was removed +and piled by Uncle Billy upon each side +of the yard gate like a triumphal arch through +which his beloved mistress might pass.</p> +<p>Old Billy unfolded the steps of the coach. +These steps were supposed to drop at the opening +of the door but the spring had long ago lost +its power and the steps must be lowered by +hand.</p> +<p>“Mind whar you tread, Miss Ann,” he whispered. +Nobody must hear him suggest that the +steps were not safe. Nobody must ever know +that he and Miss Ann and the coach and horses +were getting old and played out.</p> +<p>Miss Ann had dignity enough to carry off +broken steps, shabby baggage, rickety carriage—anything. +She emerged from the coach with +the air of being visiting royalty conferring a +favor on her lowly subjects by stopping with +them. Her dignity even overtopped the fact +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30' name='page_30'></a>30</span> +that her auburn wig was on crooked and a long +lock of snow-white hair had straggled from its +moorings and crept from the confines of the +purple quilted-satin poke bonnet. The beauty +which had been hers in her youth was still hers +although everybody could not see it. Uncle +Billy could see it and Jeff Bucknor glimpsed it, +as his old cousin stepped from her dingy coach. +He had never realized before that Cousin Ann +Peyton had lines and proportions that must +always be beautiful—a set of the head, a slope +of shoulder, a length of limb, a curve of wrist +and a turn of ankle. The old purple poke bonnet +might have been a diadem, so high did she +carry her head; and she floated along in the +midst of her voluminous skirts like a belle of +the sixties—which she had been and still was +in the eyes of her devoted old servant.</p> +<p>Miss Peyton wore hoop skirts. Where she +got them was often conjectured. Surely she +could not be wearing the same ones she had worn +in the sixties and everybody knew that the articles +were no longer manufactured. Big Josh +had declared on one occasion when some of the +relatives had waxed jocose on the subject of +Cousin Ann and her style of dress, that she had +bought a gross of hoop skirts cheap at the time +when they were going out of style and had them +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31' name='page_31'></a>31</span> +stored in his attic—but then everybody knew +that Big Josh would say anything that popped +into his head and then swear to it and Little +Josh would back him up.</p> +<p>“By heck, there’s no room in the attic for +trunks,” he had insisted. “Hoop skirts everywhere! +Boxes of ’em! Barrels of ’em! Hanging +from the rafters like Japanese lanterns! +Standing up in the corners like ghosts scaring +a fellow to death! I can’t keep servants at all +because of Cousin Ann Peyton’s buying that +gross of hoop skirts. Little Josh will bear me +out in this.”</p> +<p>And Little Josh would, although the truth of +the matter was that Cousin Ann had only one +hoop skirt, and it was the same she had worn +in the sixties. Inch by inch its body had been +renewed to reclaim it from the ravages of time +until not one iota of the original garment was +left. Here a tape and there a wire had been +carefully changed, but always the hoop kept its +original form. The spirit of the sixties still +breathed from it and it enveloped Miss Ann as +in olden days.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32' name='page_32'></a>32</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_III_COUSIN_ANN_IS_AFFRONTED' id='CHAPTER_III_COUSIN_ANN_IS_AFFRONTED'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER III</h2> +<h3>Cousin Ann Is Affronted</h3> +</div> +<p>Mrs. Bucknor stood aside while Uncle Billy +and Jeff unpacked the carriage but as the visitor +emerged she came forward. “How do you +do, Cousin Ann?” she said, trying to put some +warmth in her remark. “Have you driven +far?”</p> +<p>Cousin Ann leaned over stiffly and gave her +hostess a perfunctory peck on her cheek. “We +left Cousin Betty Throckmorton’s this morning,” +she said with a toss of the purple poke +bonnet.</p> +<p>“Then you must have had a very early +breakfast.” It was a well-known fact that the +sorrel horses, although of the famous Golddust +breed, were old and could travel at a stretch only +about five miles an hour.</p> +<p>“We lef’ Miss Betty’s befo’ breakfas’,” said +Uncle Billy sadly, but a glance from his mistress +made him add, “but we ain’t hongry, case +we done et our fill at a hotel back yonder.”</p> +<p>“I deemed it wise to travel before the heat of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33' name='page_33'></a>33</span> +the day,” said Miss Ann with an added dignity. +“Take my luggage to my room, Billy.”</p> +<p>“Yassum, yes, Miss Ann,” and the old man +made a show of tying his team to the hitching +post although he knew that the fat old Cupid +and Puck were glad to stop and rest and nothing +short of oats would budge them.</p> +<p>Mildred and Nan came slowly down the walk, +followed by Aunt Em’ly. “We’ve got to let +her kiss us and we might just as well get it over +with,” grumbled Mildred.</p> +<p>“Well, they’s some compersations in bein’ +black,” chuckled Aunt Em’ly. “I ain’t never +had ter kiss Miss Ann yit.”</p> +<p>“How do you do, cousins?” and Miss Peyton +again stooped from her loftiness and pecked +first one girl and then the other. The old lady +called all of her young relations cousin without +adding the Christian name and it was generally +conceded that she did this because she could not +keep up with the younger generation in the +many homes she visited.</p> +<p>“Mother, remember your promise,” whispered +Mildred.</p> +<p>“Yes, Mother, remember,” added Nan. +“Now is the time, before the trunks and things +get put in the wrong room.”</p> +<p>“Uncle Billy, Miss Ann is to have the room +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34' name='page_34'></a>34</span> +next the guest chamber. I mean the—hall +room,” hesitated poor Mrs. Bucknor, who was +always overawed by Cousin Ann.</p> +<p>Uncle Billy put down the two bulging telescopes +he had picked up and looking piteously +at Mrs. Bucknor said, “What you say, Miss +Milly? I reckon I done misumberstood. You +mus’ ’scuse ol’ Billy, Miss Milly.”</p> +<p>“Miss Milly done said I’ll show you the way,” +said Aunt Em’ly, picking up a great hat box +and a Gladstone bag. “I’ll he’p you carry up +some er these here bags an’ baggage.”</p> +<p>The gaunt old woman stalked ahead, while +Billy followed, but far from meekly. His beard +with its many wrapped plaits wagged ominously +and he could hardly wait to get beyond earshot +of the white folks before he gave voice to his +indignation.</p> +<p>“What’s all this a puttin’ my Miss Ann off +in a lil’ ol’ hall bedroom? You-alls is gone +kinder crazy. The bes’ ain’t good enough fer +my Miss Ann. How she gonter make out in +no little squz up room what ain’t mo’n a dressin’-room? +Miss Ann air always been a havin’ the +gues’ chamber an’ I’m a gonter ’stablish her thar +now. Miss Milly done got mixed up, Sis +Em’ly,” and the old man changed his indignant +tone to a wheedling one. “Sholy yo’ Miss Milly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35' name='page_35'></a>35</span> +wa’ jes’ a foolin’ an’ seein’ as th’ain’t nobody in +the gues’ chamber we’ll jes’ put my Miss Ann +thar.”</p> +<p>The door of the guest chamber was open and +the determined old darkey pushed by Aunt +Em’ly and entered the room prepared by Mildred +and Nan for their friends.</p> +<p>“See, they mus’ a’ got a message she wa’ on +the way, kase they done put flowers in her room +an’ all,” and old Billy kneeled to loosen the +straps of the telescopes.</p> +<p>“Git up from yonder, nigger!” exclaimed +Aunt Em’ly. “The young ladies air done swep +and garnished this here room for they own +comp’ny. Th’ain’t nothin’ the matter with that +there hall room. It air plenty good enough fer +mos’ folks. I reckon yo’ Miss Ann ain’t a whit +better’n my Miss Mildred and my Miss Nan—ain’t +so good in fac’, kase they’s got the same +blood she air an’ mo’ of it. They’s a older +fambly than she is kase they’s come along two +or three generations further than what she is. +They’s Peytons an’ Bucknors an’ Prestons an’ +Throckmortons an’ Butlers an’—an’ every +other Kentucky fambly they’s a mind ter be.”</p> +<p>Uncle Billy staggered to his feet and looked +at Aunt Em’ly with amazement and indignation. +He tried to speak but words failed him. She +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36' name='page_36'></a>36</span> +towered above him. There was something sinister +and threatening about her—at least so the +old man fancied. Aunt Em’ly was in reality +merely standing up for the rights of her own +especial white folks, but to the dazed old man +she seemed like a symbolic figure of famine and +disaster, lean and gaunt, pointing a long, bony +finger at him. He followed her to the hall bedroom +and deposited his burdens and then staggered +down the stairs for the rest of Miss Ann’s +belongings.</p> +<p>Poor Uncle Billy! His troubles were almost +more than he could bear. Not that he personally +minded getting up before dawn and flitting +from Mrs. Betty Throckmorton’s home before +any member of the household was stirring. His +Miss Ann had so willed it and far be it from +him to object to her commands. Even going +without breakfast was no hardship, if it so +pleased his beloved mistress. The meal he had +declared to Mrs. Bucknor they had eaten at a +hotel on the way was purely imaginary. Crackers +and cheese from a country store they had +passed on their journey and a spray of black-heart +cherries he had pulled from a tree by the +wayside was all he and his mistress had eaten +since the evening before at supper.</p> +<p>That supper! Would he ever forget it? From +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37' name='page_37'></a>37</span> +the back porch steps he had heard the insults +flung at Miss Ann by her hostess. Of course +everybody who was anybody, or who had ever +belonged to anybody, knew that Mrs. Elizabeth +Throckmorton, known as Cousin Betty, was not +really a member of the family but had merely +married into it. According to Uncle Billy’s +geography she was not even an American, let +alone a Kentuckian, since she had come from +some foreign parts vaguely spoken of as New +England. He and Miss Ann never had liked +to visit there, but stopped on rare occasions when +they felt that being an outsider her feelings +might be hurt when she heard they had been in +her neighborhood, had passed by her farm without +paying their respects in the shape of a short +visit.</p> +<p>The encounter between the two ladies had +been short and sharp, while the Throckmorton +family sat in frightened silence. Miss Ann and +Uncle Billy had been there only two days but +from the beginning of the visit Uncle Billy had +felt that things were not going so smoothly as +he had hoped. Things had not been running +very well for the chronic visitors in several of the +places visited during the last year but there had +been no open break or rudeness until that evening +at the Throckmortons’. It was a little +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38' name='page_38'></a>38</span> +unfortunate that they had come in on the family +without warning, just as the oldest grandchildren +were recovering from measles and the +youngest daughter, Lucy, had made up her mind +to have a June wedding. The measles had necessitated +an extra house cleaning and fumigation +of the nursery and the young sufferers had been +put in the guest chamber to sleep, while the June +wedding meant many visits to Louisville for +trousseau and much conversation on the subject +of who should not be invited and what kind +of refreshments must be served.</p> +<p>A more unpropitious moment for paying a +visit could not have been chosen. It was plain +to see that the Throckmortons were not aware of +the honor conferred upon them. The guest +chamber having been converted into a convalescent +hospital, Miss Ann must share room and bed +with the reluctant Lucy. Bureau drawers were +cleared and part of a wardrobe dedicated to the +aged relative. Moreover there was no room in +the stable for the visiting carriage horses, as a +young Throckmorton had recently purchased a +string of valuable hunters that must be housed, +although Miss Ann’s Golddust breed were forced +to present their broad backs to the rain and wind +in the pasture.</p> +<p>Old Billy slept in the coach, but he often did +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39' name='page_39'></a>39</span> +this in late years—how often he never let his +mistress know. In early days he had been welcomed +by the servants and treated with the +respect due Miss Ann Peyton’s coachman, but +the older generation of colored people had died +off or had become too aged and feeble to “make +the young folks stand around.” As for the +white people, Uncle Billy couldn’t make up his +mind what was the matter with them. Wasn’t +Miss Ann the same Miss Ann who had been +visiting ever since her own beautiful home, Peyton, +had been burned to the ground just after +the war? She was on a visit at the time. Billy +was coachman and had driven her to Buck Hill. +He wasn’t old Billy then, but was young and +sprightly. He drove a spanking pair of sorrels +and the coach was new and shiny. It was indeed +a stylish turnout and Miss Ann Peyton was +known as the belle and beauty of Kentucky.</p> +<p>It was considered very fortunate at the time +of the fire that Ann was visiting and had all of +her clothes and jewels with her. They at least +were saved. From Buck Hill they had gone to +the home of other relations and so on until visiting +became a habit. Her father, a widower, died +a few weeks after the fire and later her brother. +The estate had dwindled until only a small +income was inherited by the bereaved Ann. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_40' name='page_40'></a>40</span> +Visiting was cheap. She was made welcome by +the relations, and on prosperous blue-grass farms +the care of an extra pair of carriage horses and +the keep of another servant made very little +difference. Cousin Ann, horses and coachman, +were received with open arms and urged to stop +as long as they cared to.</p> +<p>In those days there always seemed to be plenty +of room for visitors. The houses were certainly +no larger than of the present day but they were +more elastic. Of course entertaining a handsome +young woman of lively and engaging manners, +whose beaux were legion, was very different +from having a peculiar old lady in a hoop +skirt descend upon you unawares from a shabby +coach drawn by fat old horses that looked as +though they might not go another step in spite +of the commands of the grotesque coachman with +his plaited beard and bushy white hair.</p> +<p>But that supper at the Throckmortons’! Uncle +Billy was seated on the porch steps with a pan +of drippings in his hand, wherein the cook had +grudgingly put the scrag of a fried chicken and +a hunk of cold corn bread. The cook was a new +cook and not at all inclined to bother herself over +an old darkey with his whiskers done up in plaits. +The old man silently sopped his bread and +listened to the talk of the white folks indoors. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41' name='page_41'></a>41</span></p> +<p>“Cousin Ann, have you ever thought of going +to a home for aged women?” Mrs. Throckmorton +asked. Her tone was brisk and businesslike, +though not unkind. Mrs. Throckmorton +had been entertaining this old cousin of her +husband for many years and while she was not +honored with as many visits as some of the relations +she was sure she had her full share. It +seemed to her high time that some member or +near member of the family should step in and +suggest to the old lady that there were such +homes and that she should enter one.</p> +<p>“I? Ann Peyton go to an old ladies’ home? +Cousin Betty you must be in a jocular vein,” +and Uncle Billy saw through the open door that +his mistress drew herself up like a queen and +her eyes flashed.</p> +<p>“Well, plenty of persons quite as good as you +go to such homes every day,” insisted the hostess. +“I should think you would prefer having a regular +home and not driving from pillar to post, +never knowing where you will land next and +never sure whether your relations will have room +for you or not. As it is, just now I am really +afraid it will not be convenient for you to stay +much longer with us. What with Lucy’s wedding +and the measles and everything! Of course +you need not go immediately—” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42' name='page_42'></a>42</span></p> +<p>“That is enough, Cousin Betty. Never shall +it be said that we have worn out our welcome. +We go immediately.” Miss Ann’s voice was +loud and clear. She stood up and pushed back +her chair sharply. “We beg to be excused,” she +said and turned to walk from the room.</p> +<p>“Oh, nonsense, Cousin Ann!” exclaimed Mrs. +Throckmorton impatiently. “Nobody said you +must go immediately. It was just with the wedding +imminent and—anyhow I meant it for the +best when I mentioned a home for aged women. +You would be quite comfortable in one and I +am sure I could find exactly the right sort. You +would have to make a deposit of several thousands—I +don’t know exactly how much but you +must have a little something left since you pay +old Billy’s wages and have your horses shod and +so on. Of course in the home you would have +no such expenses. You could sell your horses +and your old coach is little more than junk, and +old Billy could go to a home too.”</p> +<p>Miss Ann had paused a moment but when +Mrs. Throckmorton spoke of her carriage as +junk and suggested a home for Billy, too, her +indignation knew no bounds and with a commanding +gesture of dismissal she stalked from +the dining-room. Billy was summoned and since +it was out of the question to start so late in the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43' name='page_43'></a>43</span> +evening it was determined that daylight should +find them on their way to Buck Hill—Buck +Hill where a certain flavor of old times was still +to be found, with Cousin Bob Bucknor, so like +his father, who had been one of the swains who +followed in the train of the beautiful Ann Peyton. +Buck Hill would always make her welcome!</p> +<p>And now—Buck Hill—and a hall bedroom!</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44' name='page_44'></a>44</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_IV_THE_ENERGY_OF_JUDITH' id='CHAPTER_IV_THE_ENERGY_OF_JUDITH'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> +<h3>The Energy of Judith</h3> +</div> +<p>“Mother, Cousin Ann Peyton is at Buck Hill. +I saw her old carriage on the road when I went +in for my express parcels.”</p> +<p>“Why will you insist upon saying Cousin +Ann, Judith?” drawled Mrs. Buck. “I’d take +my time about calling anybody cousin who +scorned to do the same by me.”</p> +<p>As Judith’s mother took her time about everything, +the girl smiled indulgently, and proceeded +in the unpacking of the express packages.</p> +<p>“I’m so glad I am selling for this company +that sends all goods directly to me instead of +having me take orders the way the other one +did. I’m just a born peddler and I know I +make more when I can deliver the goods the +minute they are bought and paid for. I’m going +to take Buck Hill in on my rounds this year +and see if all of my dear cousins won’t lay in a +stock of sweet soap and cold cream.”</p> +<p>“There you are, calling those Buck Hill folks +cousin again. Here child, don’t waste that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45' name='page_45'></a>45</span> +string. I can’t see what makes you so wasteful. +You should untie each package, carefully pick +out the knots, and then roll it up in a ball. I +wonder how many times I’ve told you that.”</p> +<p>“So do I, Mother, and how many times I +have told you that my time is too precious to be +picking out hard knots. I bet this minute you’ve +got a ball of string as big as your head, and +please tell me how many packages you send out +in a year.”</p> +<p>The girl’s manner was gay and bantering. +She stopped untying parcels long enough to kiss +her mother, who was laboriously picking the +knots from the cut twine.</p> +<p>Mrs. Buck continued, “Wasting all of that +good paper too! Here, let me fold it up. My +mother and father taught me to be very particular +about such things and goodness knows +I’ve tried to teach you. I don’t know where we’d +be if I didn’t save and if my folks before me +hadn’t done so.”</p> +<p>It was a well-known fact that Judith’s maternal +grandparents, Mr. and Mrs. Ezra Knight, +had been forced to abandon their ancestral farm +in Connecticut and had started to California on +a hazard of new fortunes but had fallen by the +wayside, landing in Kentucky where their habits +of saving string and paper certainly had not +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46' name='page_46'></a>46</span> +enriched them. Such being the case a whimsical +smile from the granddaughter was pardonable.</p> +<p>“There is no telling,” she laughed, “but you +go on saving, Mother dear, and I’ll try to do +some making and between us we’ll be as rich as +our cousins at Buck Hill.”</p> +<p>“There you are again! I’d feel ashamed to +go claiming relations with folks that didn’t even +know I existed. I can’t see what makes you +do it.”</p> +<p>“Oh, just for fun! You see we really and +truly are kin. We are just as close kin as some +of the people Cousin Ann Peyton visits, because +you see she takes in anybody and everybody +from the third and fourth generation of them +that hate to see her coming. Yesterday in +Louisville I looked up the family in some old +books on the early history of Kentucky at the +Carnegie Library and I found out a lot of +things. In the first place the Bucks weren’t +named for Buck Hill.”</p> +<p>The land owned by Mrs. Buck had at one +time been as rich as any in Kentucky, but it had +been overworked until it was almost as poor as +the deserted farm in Connecticut. As Judge +Middleton had said, the price of the right-of-way +through the place sought by the trolley +company had enabled her to lift the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47' name='page_47'></a>47</span> +long-standing mortgage. She had inherited the farm, +mortgage and all, from her father, who had +bought it from old Dick Buck. The house was +a pleasant cottage of New England architecture, +built closer to the road than is usual on +Kentucky farms. Old Mr. Knight had also followed +the traditions of his native state by building +his barn with doors opening on the road. +The barn was larger than the house, but at the +present time Judith’s little blue car and an old +red cow were its sole inhabitants. The hay loft, +which was designed to hold many tons of hay, +was empty. Sometimes an errant hen would +find her way up there and start a nest in vain +hopes of being allowed to lay her quota and +begin the business of hatching her own offspring +in her own way, but Judith would rout her out +and force her to comply to community housekeeping +in the poultry-house.</p> +<p>The Knights’ motto might have been: “Lazy +Faire” and the Buck’s “’Nuff Said,” as a wag +at Ryeville had declared, but such mottoes did +not fit Miss Judith. Nothing must be left as +it was unless it was already exactly right and +enough was not said until she had spoken her +mind freely and fearlessly. Everything about +this girl was free and fearless—her walk, the +way she held her head, her unflinching hazel +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48' name='page_48'></a>48</span> +eyes and ready, ringing laugh. Even her red +gold hair demanded freedom and refused to stay +confined in coil, braid or net.</p> +<p>“I’m sure I don’t know where you came +from,” Mrs. Buck drawled. “You’re so energetic +and wasteful like. Of course my folks +were never ones to sit still and be taken care +of like the Bucks,” and then her mild eyes would +snap a bit, “but the Knights believed in saving.”</p> +<p>“Even energy?” asked Judith saucily.</p> +<p>“Well, there isn’t any use in wasting even +energy. My father used to say that saving was +the keynote of life as well as religion. I reckon +you must be a throw back to my mother’s +grandfather, who was a Norse sailor, and reckless +and wasteful and red-headed.”</p> +<p>“Maybe so! At any rate I’m going to plough +some guano into these acres, even though I can’t +plough the seas like my worthy grandpap, Sven +Thorwald Woden, or whatever his name was. +Just look at our wheat, Mother! It isn’t fit to +feed chickens with because our land is so poor. +I’m tired of this eternal saving and no making. +There is no reason why our yield shouldn’t be +as great per acre as Buck Hill, but we don’t +get half as much as they do. I’ve got to make +a lot of money this summer so as to buy bags +and bags of fertilizer. I’ve got a new scheme.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_49' name='page_49'></a>49</span></p> +<p>“I’ll be bound you have,” sighed Mrs. Buck.</p> +<p>“But you’ll have to help me by making cakes +and pies and things and peeling potatoes.”</p> +<p>“All right, just so you don’t hurry me! +I can’t be hurried.”</p> +<p>“What a nice mother you are to say all right +without even asking what it is.”</p> +<p>“There wasn’t any use in wasting my breath +asking, because I knew you’d tell me without +asking.”</p> +<p>“Well, this is it: I’m going to feed the motormen +and conductors. I got the idea yesterday +when I was coming up from Louisville by trolley, +when I saw the poor fellows eating such +miserable lunches out of tin buckets with everything +hot that ought to be cold and cold that +ought to be hot. I heard them talking about +it and complaining and the notion struck me. I +went up and sat by the men and asked them +how they would like to have a supper handed +them every evening, because it seems it is the +night meal they miss most, and they nearly +threw a fit with joy. I’m to begin this very +day.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Buck threw up her hands in despair. +“Judy, you just shan’t do any such thing.”</p> +<p>“Now, Mother, honey, you said you’d help +and the men are not bringing any supper from +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_50' name='page_50'></a>50</span> +home and you surely wouldn’t have them go +hungry.”</p> +<p>“But you said I would not have to hurry.”</p> +<p>“And neither will you. You can take your +own time and I’ll do the hurrying. I only +have two suppers to hand out this evening, but +I bet you in a week I’ll be feeding a dozen +men and they’ll like it and pay me well and +before you know it we’ll be rich and we can have +lots better food ourselves and even keep a +servant.”</p> +<p>“A servant! Heavens, Judith, not a wasteful +servant!”</p> +<p>“No indeed, Mother, a saving one—one who +will save us many steps and give me time to +make more money than you can save. I’ll +give them fried chicken this evening and hashed +brown potatoes and hot rolls and plum jam and +buttermilk. The radishes are up and big enough +to eat and so are the young onions. All conductors +eat onions. They do it to keep people +from standing on the back platform. I am +certainly glad the line came through our place +and we have a stop so near us. I’ll have to +order a dozen baskets with nice, neat covers and +big enough to hold plates and cups and saucers. +Thank goodness we have enough china to go +around what with the Buck leavings and the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_51' name='page_51'></a>51</span> +Knight savings. I’m going to get some five +and ten cent store silver and a great gross of +paper napkins. I tell you, Mother, I’m going +to do this up in style.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Buck groaned out something about waste +and sadly began paring potatoes, although it +was then quite early in the forenoon and the +trolleymen’s supper was not to be served until +six-thirty.</p> +<p>“That child’ll wear herself out,” she said, +not to herself but to an old blue hen who was +scratching around the hollyhocks, clucking +loudly. The hen had a motherly air, having +launched so many families, and Mrs. Buck felt +instinctively she might sympathize with her.</p> +<p>“Thank goodness I ain’t got but one to +worry about,” she continued as the repeated +clucks brought Old Blue’s brood around her. +“Now just look at that poor old hen! I wonder +if she’d rather be a hen and have so many +large families to raise or if she wishes she’d +been a rooster and maybe been fried in her +youth.”</p> +<p>Deep thinking was too much for Mrs. Buck. +She stopped peeling potatoes and fell into a +brown study. The side porch was a pleasant +place to sit and dream. Judith had sorted out +her wares and stored them in the back of her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_52' name='page_52'></a>52</span> +blue car. She had caught two chickens and +dressed them and set a sponge for the hot +rolls. She had promised herself the pleasure +of serving the motorman and conductor a trial +supper whose excellence she was sure would +bring in dozens of orders.</p> +<p>A whirr from the barn and in a moment +Judith was off and away, leaving a cloud of +dust behind her.</p> +<p>“No hurry about the potatoes!” she called +as she passed the house, and then her voice +trailed off with, “I’ll be back by and by.”</p> +<p>“Just like the old woman on a broomstick +in Mother Goose,” Mrs. Buck informed the hen +and then since there was no hurry about the +potatoes she fell to dreaming again. It was +very peaceful on the shady porch with that +whirlwind of a Judy gone for several hours on +one of her crazy peddling jaunts. What a girl +she was for plunging! Again the mother wondered +where she came from and for the ten +thousandth time agreed with herself that it +must be the blood of the Norse sailor cropping +out in her energetic daughter.</p> +<p>“It might have been the Bucks way back +yonder somewhere. Certainly she didn’t get +any up-and-doing from old Dick Buck or my +poor husband.” Mrs. Buck always thought and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_53' name='page_53'></a>53</span> +spoke of her husband as her poor husband. +That was because he had died in the first year +of their marriage. Perhaps a merciful Providence +had taken him off before he had time +to develop to any great extent the traits that +made his father, old Dick Buck, a by-word in +the county as being the laziest and most altogether +no-account white man in Kentucky.</p> +<p>Her thoughts drifted back to her childhood +in New England. She could barely remember +the old white farmhouse with its faded green +shutters that rattled so dismally in the piercing +winds that seemed to single out the Knight +house as it swept down between the hills. She +recalled vividly the discussion carried on between +her parents in regard to their mode of +moving West—whether by wagon or rail—and +the final decision to go by wagon because +in that way they might save not only railroad +fare but the bony team. Furniture was packed +ready for shipment and stored in a neighbor’s +barn until they were sure in just what part +of the West they would settle. California had +been their goal, but Kentucky seemed far +enough. They had stopped for a while in Ryeville +with an old neighbor from New England +and, hearing of a farm owned by one Dick +Buck that was to be sold for taxes, they +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_54' name='page_54'></a>54</span> +determined to abandon the journey to California +and put what savings they had on this farm.</p> +<p>The mortgage went with the farm. That +Ezra Knight bargained for, but what he had +not bargained for was that old Dick Buck and +his son, young Dick, also were included in the +purchase. They lived in a two-room log house, +a little behind the site Ezra had selected for his +own domicile. This was the natural place to +build, since the land sloped gently from it, +giving a proper drainage, and then the well was +already there and a wonderfully good well it +was.</p> +<p>The new house was built, the plan following +the old house they had left in Connecticut as +closely as possible, but still old Dick Buck stayed +on in his log cabin. Every day he told Ezra +Knight he was planning to move, but always +some unforeseen event would arise to make it +necessary for him to postpone his departure. +The houses were not fifty feet apart, the back +yard of the New England cottage serving as a +front yard to the cabin. The days stretched +into weeks, the weeks into months. Ezra grew +impatient and the old Dick took to his bed with +a mysterious malady that defied the skill of +the country doctor. Mrs. Knight, a kindly soul, +ministered to his wants, saying she couldn’t let +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_55' name='page_55'></a>55</span> +a dog suffer if he was a neighbor. The months +stretched into years. Every time Ezra approached +the one time owner of the farm on +the subject of his finding some other place of +abode, old Dick had an attack of his mysterious +malady and Ezra would have to give up for +the time being.</p> +<p>In the meantime young Dick was growing +into a likely lad and little Prudence Knight +had let down her skirts and put up her hair. +Dick was employed on the Knight farm, and +what was more natural than he should take his +meals with them? Old Dick found it equally +natural that he should also make one at the +frugal board. When Ezra died, which he did +ten years after he moved to Kentucky, old Dick +and young Dick kindly offered to sit up with +the corpse. The bereaved wife made the bed +in the low-ceilinged attic room for them and +what more natural than they should stay on? +Stay on they did until young Dick and Prudence +were married; until young Dick died. +Then old Dick stayed on and Mrs. Knight died +and his daughter-in-law and the little flame-haired +Judith were left to fend for themselves.</p> +<p>After the death of Mrs. Knight of course +leaving was impossible. Old Dick even spoke +of himself as the sole support of his daughter-in-law +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_56' name='page_56'></a>56</span> +and her little Judith. He began to look +upon hunting and fishing as a duty and seemed +to feel that they would have been destitute without +his occasional donation of a small string of +perch or a rabbit. Mrs. Knight tolerated him +because she was used to him. Judith had a real +affection for the old man and, when he died, +mourned for him sincerely. To be sure he had +been a very untidy old person who had never +done a day’s work in all his life but at least he +had a nimble wit which had appealed to the +child.</p> +<p>After his death Judith trapped rabbits and +caught fish. She did many things besides, however, +as by that time family funds were so low +and the farm so unproductive it was necessary +for some member of the family to begin to make +money. She was fourteen at the time her grandfather +died—a slim long-legged girl giving +promise of the beauty that the old soldiers and +the drummer on the Rye House porch acknowledged +later on. Even then the wire-spring +energy was hers that still puzzled her mother—energy +and an ever-present determination to get +ahead. Sometimes she caught enough fish to sell +a few. Sometimes she carried rabbits into the +town for sale. In blackberry season she was +an indefatigable picker. She went in for +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_57' name='page_57'></a>57</span> +chickens and had steady customers in Louisville +for her guaranteed eggs. School was looked +upon as part of the business of getting ahead. +Nothing in the way of weather daunted her. +She went through the high school with flying +colors and got a medal for not having missed a +single day in four years.</p> +<p>At nineteen she was teaching school for eight +months of the year and the other four peddling +toilet articles and a few side lines and now planning +to feed the motormen on the interurban +trolleys.</p> +<p>“Well, well! I guess she got it from the +Norse sailor,” sighed Mrs. Buck picking up +another potato.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_58' name='page_58'></a>58</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_V_UNCLE_BILLYS_DIPLOMACY' id='CHAPTER_V_UNCLE_BILLYS_DIPLOMACY'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER V</h2> +<h3>Uncle Billy’s Diplomacy</h3> +</div> +<p>The hall bedroom at Buck Hill was not such +a small room, except in comparison with the +other rooms, which were enormous. There was +plenty of space in it for Miss Ann and a reasonable +amount of luggage, but not for Miss Ann +and three trunks and the numerous bags and +bundles and boxes, which Billy stowed away, +endeavoring to make the place as comfortable +as possible for his beloved mistress.</p> +<p>“I’ll unstrop yo’ trunks an’ we kin git +unpacked an’ then I’ll tote the empties up in +the attic ’ginst the time we ’cides ter move on,” +he said, looking sadly at Miss Ann as she sank +listlessly in a chair. Miss Ann allowed herself +to be listless in the presence of Billy, and Billy +alone. At the sound of a step on the stairs she +stiffened involuntarily. Nobody must find Ann +Peyton slouching or down-hearted. It was only +Mildred going up for a last look at the guest +chamber, to make sure everything was in readiness +for her company. She did not come to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_59' name='page_59'></a>59</span> +her old cousin’s room so Miss Ann felt at liberty +to relax once more.</p> +<p>“Billy, I am not going to unpack yet,” she +faltered. “I—I—perhaps we may have to +start off again in a hurry.”</p> +<p>“Don’t say it, Miss Ann! We won’t never +be called on ter depart from Buck Hill ’til we’s +good an’ ready—not whilst Marse Bob Bucknor’s +prodigy is livin’, an’ Mr. Jeff the spitin’ +image of his gran’dad. I’s sho Miss Milly done +put you in this pretty lil’ room kase she thought +you’d like it, bein’ so handy to the stairs an’ all, +an’ the windy right over the baid so’s you kin +lay an ’look out at the trees an’ flowers—an’ if +there ain’t a wishteria vine a comin’ in the casement +an’ twinin’ aroun’ jes’ like a pixture. I +tell you Miss Ann, this here room becomes you +powerful much. I wonder they ain’t never give +it ter you befo’. It’s a heap mo’ homey like +than the gues’ chamber an’ I’m thinkin’ it’s +agonter be quieter an’ cooler an’ much mo’ habitationable.”</p> +<p>“Yes, Billy, I’m sure it will be.” There was +a plaintive suggestion of tears in her voice.</p> +<p>“Now, Miss Ann, you git in yo’ wropper an’ +lay down a spell an’ I’m gonter fotch you a cup +er tea. You’s plum tuckered out what with sech +a early start an’ mo’n likely no sleep las’ night. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_60' name='page_60'></a>60</span> +You ain’t called on ter be a botherin’ yo’ little +haid ’bout nothin’. Jes’ you res’ yo’se’f an’ after +you rests you kin come down on the po’ch an’ +git the air.”</p> +<p>If he had been a mammy coaxing a child +Billy’s tone could not have been more gentle +or loving. He busied himself unstrapping the +trunks and valises and then hurried off for the +cup of tea, declaring he would be back in a +moment although he well knew that a trial of +will with Aunt Em’ly lay before him. Tea and +toast he determined to have for his mistress—if +over the cook’s dead body. Aunt Em’ly was +queen of the kitchen and nothing irritated her +more than having extra food to prepare.</p> +<p>“Let ’em eat they victuals when they’s served, +three times a day without no stint or savin’ an’ +not be peckin’ in between times,” she hurled at +poor old Billy when he meekly demanded a tray +for the hall bedroom.</p> +<p>“I’ll fix it myself, Sis Em’ly, an’ I won’t +make a mite er dirt. Miss Ann air plum flabbergasted +what with sech a long trip an’ no +breakfas’.”</p> +<p>“I thought you done boas’ you et at a hotel,” +sniffed the old woman. “How come she air +hongry fer tea an’ toas’ if she done et at a hotel.”</p> +<p>“Sho—sho—but you see it done got jolted +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_61' name='page_61'></a>61</span> +down an’ Miss Ann—Please, Sis Em’ly. I +ain’t a arskin’ nothin’ fer myse’f, but jes’ for my +Miss Ann. You done won out consarnin’ gues’ +chambers an’ hall bedrooms so you mought be +willin’ ter give a po’ tired lady a cup er tea.”</p> +<p>Aunt Em’ly was really a very kind person, +but there was something about old Billy’s long +beard tied up in innumerable plaits, his bow +legs and general air of superiority, that had +always irritated her. For years she had been +held in the subjection of politeness by this unwelcome +guest by the attitude of her white +people to his mistress, but now the barriers were +down and Mrs. Bucknor had openly expressed +her impatience at this too-frequent visitor and +had been persuaded by her daughters to give +Miss Ann the hall room, no longer need she +assume cordiality to the old servant. Of course +she intended to make the tea for Miss Ann but +she also intended to be as disagreeable as possible +while the kettle boiled.</p> +<p>The old man sat meekly in the corner of the +kitchen, watching Aunt Em’ly while she scalded +the small Rebecca pot and measured out the +tea. He was glad to see that she put in an extra +spoonful as that meant that he too might find +some much-needed refreshment. She made quite +a stack of toast and buttered it generously, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_62' name='page_62'></a>62</span> +although all the time she grumbled and frowned.</p> +<p>“Here, take it, an’ git out’n my kitchen. I +don’t much mo’n git the breakfus dishes washed +befo’ I haster begin gittin’ dinner an’ if I’s +gonter have ter be a stoppin’ every five minutes +ter fix trays I like ter know when I will git +through.”</p> +<p>“Thank you, Sis Em’ly, thank you!” cried +old Billy, seizing the coveted tray and making a +hasty exit. “Her bark air wus’n her bite,” he +chuckled, “an’ I do hope Miss Ann ain’t gonter +take away her appletite for dinner by eatin’ all +this toas’ an’ drinkin’ this whole pot er tea, kase +I tell you now ol’ Billy’s stomic air done stuck +to his back with emptiness.”</p> +<p>The tea and toast did put heart in the weary +travelers. Miss Ann left half the simple feast +for Billy, commanding him to go sit in the +corner of the room and devour his share.</p> +<p>“Now I’m gonter rub down my hosses an’ +wash the ca’ige, and if you’s got any little odd +jobs fer me ter do I’ll mosey back this way +arter dinner. Praise Gawd, the Buck Hill +folks has dinner in the middle of the day, an’ +plenty of it. These here pick-up, mid-day +canned salmon lunches air bad enough for the +white folks but by the time they gits ter the +niggers th’ain’t nothin’ lef but the can. I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_63' name='page_63'></a>63</span> +hear tell the young ladies air ’spectin’ of +comp’ny so I reckon you’ll be a needin’ yo’ +sprigged muslin ter take the shine out’n all +the gatherin’. I’m a gonter press it fer you, +even if a hot iron air arskin’ a big favor with +some er these free niggers.”</p> +<p>“Oh, Billy, you needn’t bother to press my +gown. It makes very little difference what I +wear. I don’t believe I can appear this +evening.”</p> +<p>“Miss Ann, air you sick? Ain’t yo’ tea picked +you up none?”</p> +<p>“No, Billy, I’m not sick. I’m just so miserable. +I’m beginning to see that we are no +longer wanted—even here at Buck Hill.” The +old woman’s voice quavered piteously. “They +used to want us—everywhere. At least, if +they didn’t they pretended they did. I don’t +know when it started—this drawing back—this +feeling we are a burden. When did it begin, +Billy?”</p> +<p>“’Tain’t never begun. You’s jes’ so blue-blooded +you is sensitive like, Miss Ann. You +is wanted mo’n ever. You-all’s kin is proud +ter own you. You air still the beauty of the +fambly, Miss Ann. I knows, kase I done seed +every shemale mimber of the race er Peytons +an’ Bucknors an’ all. Th’ain’t never a one +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_64' name='page_64'></a>64</span> +what kin hol’ a can’le ter you. Don’t you go +ter throwin’ off on my Miss Ann or you’ll +be havin’ ol’ Billy ter fight. I ain’t seed +nothin’ in this county ter put long side er you, +less’n it wa’ that pretty red-headed gal what +went whizzin’ by us up yonder on the pike +in a blue ortermobubble. I ain’t knowin’ who +she air but one thing that made her so pretty +wa’ that I member the time when you wa’ jes’ +like her. She turned her head aroun’ ter look +at us an’ she give me sech a start I pretty +nigh fell off’n my box.</p> +<p>“I ain’t meanin’ no disrespec’ ter Marse Bob +an’ Miss Milly’s daughters, but they ain’t +nothin’ by the side er that there young gal +what dusted us this mornin’. The bes’-lookin’ +one er their daughters is Mr. Jeff. He air sho +growed ter a likely young man. He air certainly +kind an’ politeful too. Didn’t he say +pintedly he wa’ glad ter see you? Didn’t he +ketch a holt an’ help me tote ev’y las’ one er +these here trunks up here? When the young +marster air so hospitle I don’t see whe’fo’ you +gits notions in yo’ haid.”</p> +<p>“Perhaps you are right, Billy,” and Miss +Ann again held up her head. She must not +let herself slump. The will that had carried +her through all the long years of visiting must +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_65' name='page_65'></a>65</span> +carry her still. She had demanded and hence +received homage and respect from her kinsmen +for two generations and she must continue to +do it. It would be fatal at this point to show +weakness or truculence. She had been and intended +to be always the honored guest at the +various homes that she visited. The unfortunate +occurrence at Cousin Betty Throckmorton’s was +to be ignored—forgotten. Billy was right; +she must dress with care. The matter of the +hall bedroom must be treated lightly and accepted +as a compliment. It wasn’t as though +she had been put out of the guest chamber. +She knew in her heart that in times that were +past any youthful visitors expected at Buck +Hill must have made way for her, but she did +not acknowledge it to herself or to Billy.</p> +<p>She shook out the sprigged muslin and gave +it to the old man to press. Then, with meticulous +care, she began the business of unpacking. +It was with some irritation that she found only +the top drawer of the bureau empty. In the +other drawers Mrs. Bucknor had put away sundry +articles which she had forgotten about—remnants +of cloth, old ribbons and laces and +photographs. The hall room was used only +when there was an overflow of guests and only +transient visitors put there. For transients one +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_66' name='page_66'></a>66</span> +drawer was sufficient. In the wardrobe there +hung an old hunting suit of Jeff’s and several +dancing frocks belonging to Mildred and Nan, +that had been temporarily discarded to await +future going over by the seamstress.</p> +<p>“They might have spared me this,” Miss Ann +muttered, as she endeavored to make hanging +room for her voluminous skirts.</p> +<p>She snatched the offending garments from +the hooks and put them in a pile on the floor. +Then she pulled out the lower bureau drawers +and dumped the contents on top of the old +hunting suit and dancing frocks.</p> +<p>“There! I shall give them to understand I +am not to be treated with ignominy. I am +Ann Peyton. I have always been treated with +consideration and I always intend to be.”</p> +<p>The old eyes flashed and the faded cheeks +flushed. She gave the pile of debris a vicious +little kick. The blow dislodged from the mass +a small, old-fashioned daguerreotype. There +was something about the little picture that was +familiar. She stooped and picked it up. It +was her own likeness, taken at seventeen, a +slender, charming girl whose expression gave +one to understand that she could not be still +much longer. She would have been a better +subject for a motion-picture camera than the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_67' name='page_67'></a>67</span> +invention of Daguerre. Youth looked into the +eyes of age and Miss Ann put her hands over +her own poor face as though to hide from youth +the ravages of time. It seemed to her that the +young Ann looked out on the old Ann and +said, “What have you done with me? Where +am I? You needn’t tell me that you and I +are one and the same.”</p> +<p>Slowly she walked to the bureau and slowly +she raised her eyes to the mirror and then gazed +long and sadly at her face.</p> +<p>“Ann Peyton, you are a fool. You have +always been a fool. It is too late to be anything +else now and you will go on being a +fool until the end of time. This child had +more sense than you have.”</p> +<p>Reverently she placed the little daguerreotype +in her handkerchief box. It was the picture +she had given Bob Bucknor, the father of +the present owner of Buck Hill and the grandfather +of Jeff. He had prized it once but now +it was thrown aside and forgotten by all. She +then stooped over and gathered up the articles +on the floor and carefully put them back in +drawers and wardrobe. She washed her face +and hands, straightened her auburn wig, changed +her traveling dress to a more suitable one and +then sailed majestically down the stairs.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_68' name='page_68'></a>68</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VI_A_QUESTION_OF_KINSHIP' id='CHAPTER_VI_A_QUESTION_OF_KINSHIP'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> +<h3>A Question of Kinship</h3> +</div> +<p>Jefferson Bucknor had been away from +home, except for flying visits, for five years. +Like most of the young men of his age, the +World War had broken in on his college course. +He had gone into training at the first suggestion +of his country’s need. He was then in his +junior year at the University of Virginia. Law +had been his goal and at the close of the war +he hastened back to finish what he had begun. +Determined to hang out his shingle as soon as +possible, he had studied summer and winter until +he got his degree. He was now at home, taking +a much-needed rest and getting acquainted +again with his family. The sisters had grown +up while he was away, and his father and mother +were turning gray. He had only arrived the +day before the coming of Cousin Ann, and +could not help regretting that his sisters were +having this house party. It would have been +pleasant to be quietly at home for a while.</p> +<p>“When does your company come?” Jeff +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_69' name='page_69'></a>69</span> +asked Mildred. Cousin Ann had joined them +on the front porch, where the family awaited +the summons to dinner. “Mildred and Nan +are having a swarm of guests,” he explained to +the old cousin.</p> +<p>“Ah, indeed!” said Cousin Ann.</p> +<p>“Some of them come at six-thirty and the +rest at seven from Louisville. We are to meet +them at the trolley. You’ll go with us, won’t +you, Jeff?” asked Mildred.</p> +<p>“Of course, if you need me.”</p> +<p>“Need you! I should say we do need you. +Why, you are to fall madly in love with Jean +Roland. We’ve fixed it all up. She’s rich and +beautiful.”</p> +<p>“Yes, and we put linen sheets on the bed +in the guest chamber,” broke in Nan. “Jean +Roland is used to grand things, but she’ll have +to sleep three in the bed and so will all of +us—now.”</p> +<p>“Hush!” from Mrs. Bucknor. There was +an embarrassed silence. Cousin Ann’s backbone +stiffened. Mrs. Bucknor looked reproachfully +at her daughters, who giggled helplessly. It +was a relief to have the head of the house arrive +at that moment.</p> +<p>Mr. Bucknor was a hale and hearty man of +fifty, florid and handsome, slightly dictatorial in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_70' name='page_70'></a>70</span> +manner, but easily influenced by his wife, who +was all softness and gentleness. He was generous +and hospitable, priding himself on keeping +up the reputation in which Buck Hill had +gloried in the past—that of an open house +with bed and board for all of the blood. He +greeted his Cousin Ann with a cordiality that +might have been balm to her wounded feelings +had she not been aware that that was Cousin +Bob’s manner to everybody.</p> +<p>“And where do you come from, Cousin +Ann?” he demanded. “I hope all were well. +Cousin Betty Throckmorton’s? Well, well! I +thought Sister Sue was to have the honor of +your company. It will keep! It will keep! +Measles at Cousin Betty’s? Heavens! I hope +none of them will go off in pneumonia. You +must give us a nice long visit. Always glad to +have you, Cousin Ann. Glad to have any of +my kin come and stay as long as they choose. +Blood is thicker than water, I say, and blue +blood is thicker than red blood.”</p> +<p>“Thank you, cousin,” was all Miss Ann could +say.</p> +<p>“By the way, Mildred, speaking of falling +in love, who is that pretty girl I saw on the +trolley yesterday?” asked Jeff. “I can’t remember +ever having seen her around here +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_71' name='page_71'></a>71</span> +before, but then the girls have all grown beyond +me since I left home. She has what some people +call auburn hair, but I like to call it red, +although it had lots of gold in it. She got +on the last stop before you get into Ryeville. +Seemed to know everybody on the car—even +the motorman and conductor. At least, I saw +her chatting with them—the ones who were +relieved at the last switch and were eating their +suppers. She was as lively as a cricket—was +just bubbling over with energy—”</p> +<p>“Oh, I know who that was,” said Mildred. +“It sounds like that forward Judith Buck. She +has no idea of her place. I never saw such a +girl. She rides around the country in a ridiculous +looking little home made blue Ford with +a spring wagon back and puts on all the airs +of sporting a Stutz racer. She never stops for +anybody but just whizzes on by. Sometimes she +even bows to us, although she gets mighty little +encouragement from me, I can tell you.”</p> +<p>Suddenly there flashed upon Miss Ann’s inward +eye a picture of a bright-haired girl in a +little blue car who had passed her coach only +that morning, and with the picture came the +remembrance of Uncle Billy’s words: “I ain’t +seed nothin’ in this county ter put ’long side +er you lessen it wa’ that pretty red-headed gal +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_72' name='page_72'></a>72</span> +what went whizzin’ by us up yonder on the pike +in a blue ortermobubble.” She remembered that +he had declared the girl looked as she had looked +in her youth.</p> +<p>Mildred continued her diatribe concerning the +lively Judith: “Surely you remember her, Jeff. +She used to come here selling blackberries when +she was a kid—a little barefooted girl and as +pert as you please even then. After old Dick +Buck died she used to trap rabbits and bring +them here for sale and sometimes fish. It always +made me mad for Aunt Em’ly to encourage +her by making Mother buy the things. I +think poor persons should be taken care of all +right but they should know their place.”</p> +<p>“But what is her place?” asked Jeff, a flush +slowly spreading over his handsome, rather +swarthy countenance.</p> +<p>“Well, I should say her place was at the +back door,” declared Mildred. “Old Dick +Buck’s granddaughter needn’t expect to get any +social recognition from me.”</p> +<p>“Me either!” chimed in Nan.</p> +<p>“Of course not!” said Mrs. Bucknor. Mr. +Bucknor was reading the morning paper and +seemed oblivious to the conversation.</p> +<p>“She doesn’t look to me like a girl who cared +a whit for social recognition,” said Jeff quietly, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_73' name='page_73'></a>73</span> +although his lip had a curl that showed his disapproval +of his family’s snobbishness.</p> +<p>“Don’t you believe it,” said Mildred, with +rather more violence than the subject under discussion +warranted. “I went to high school +with her for a year and then thank goodness +Father sent me to a private school. She was +the greatest smart Aleck you ever saw. Had +herself elected president of the class and was +always showing off, getting medals for never +being late and never missing a single day of +school since she started. She was always acting +in plays and getting up class entertainments for +devastated Europe. Some of the girls in Ryeville +wanted to ask her to join our club, but I +just told them they could count me out if they +did any such thing.”</p> +<p>“Me too!” said Nan.</p> +<p>“And I tell you Buck Hill is too nice a place +for parties for the set to let Nan and me out. +She’s got a place as teacher now, out in the +county near Clayton. I can’t abide her. She +even had the impertinence to tell some of the +girls once that the original name of her family +was the same as ours—that her old grandfather, +Dick Buck, had told her so. The idea! Next +she’ll be claiming kin with us Bucknors.”</p> +<p>“What’s that? What’s that?” asked Mr. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_74' name='page_74'></a>74</span> +Bucknor, dropping his paper. “Who claims +kin with us?”</p> +<p>“Old Dick Buck’s granddaughter. Isn’t it +ridiculous?”</p> +<p>“Not at all,” spoke Cousin Ann, coming +into the conversation as a ship in full sail might +break into a fleet of fishing boats. “Not ridiculous +at all. In fact, quite the proper thing for +the young woman in question to do. She, too, +may have pride of birth and there is no reason +why she should not claim what is due her.”</p> +<p>“But—” interrupted Mildred. Miss Ann +Peyton paid no attention at all to the girl. She +addressed her remarks to Jeff, who was all +respectful attention.</p> +<p>“Yes, cousin, the Bucks are descended from +the Bucknors quite as much as you or I are. +I recall it all now, although I have not thought +of it for many, many years. I can remember +hearing my grandfather tell of a brother of his +Grandfather Bucknor who, out of pure carelessness, +dropped the last syllable of his name. +It was in connection with a transfer of property. +The deed was recorded wrongly, naming Richard +Buck. He was a lazy man and rather than +go to the trouble of having the matter corrected +he just allowed himself to be called Richard +Buck. He left Kentucky after that, but his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_75' name='page_75'></a>75</span> +son returned later on. My grandfather told me +a slump in fortune began from that time and +the Buck branch of the family has been on the +downward road ever since. Perhaps, having +reached the bottom, this young person is now +ascending. But low or high, the fact remains +that she is kin.”</p> +<p>“Bless my soul!” exclaimed Mr. Bucknor, “I +didn’t dream that old tale had a word of truth +in it. I’ve heard old Dick Buck, when he was +drunk, insisting that he belonged to my family, +but it sounded ridiculous on the face of it.”</p> +<p>“Exactly!” chorused Mildred and Nan.</p> +<p>“However, I must look into the matter,” the +father continued somewhat pompously. “If the +girl is kin we must claim her.”</p> +<p>“Oh, Bob, I beg of you to do no such +thing,” said Mrs. Bucknor gently, laying a restraining +hand lightly on her husband’s arm. +Her touch was soft and light but it held Bob +Bucknor as effectively as iron handcuffs might +have. “If this girl is as forward as Mildred +and Nan say she is, it would be very embarrassing +to have her constantly asserting her +kinship with our girls. I am sure I do not +know her at all. She is pretty and no doubt is +good, but she is naturally common and evidently +very pushing.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_76' name='page_76'></a>76</span></p> +<p>“All right, my dear, all right! You know +best,” responded Mr. Bucknor.</p> +<p>At this juncture Kizzie announced dinner, +which was a relief to all of them.</p> +<p>“Take my arm, Cousin Ann,” said Jeff +gallantly.</p> +<p>For a moment the old woman and the young +man stood looking off over the rolling meadows +of blue grass. Cutting the lush green pasture +lands was the white limestone turnpike. Far +off in the distance a blue speck appeared on the +white road. In a twinkling it grew into a car +and then went whizzing by, leaving a cloud of +white dust in its wake. Jeff smiled and, glancing +down at his old cousin, caught an answering +smile on her face.</p> +<p>“I’m rather glad she’s kin,” he whispered, +and she gave his arm a tiny squeeze.</p> +<p>Then the thought came to him: “I wonder +if she is as bold and forward as Mildred says +she is. I wish she hadn’t been so familiar with +those motormen. That wasn’t very ladylike to +go up and engage them in conversation. Perhaps +Mildred is right. You could hardly expect +old Dick Buck’s granddaughter to be very +refined—but, gee, she’s a good looker!”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_77' name='page_77'></a>77</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VII_JUDITH_MAKES_A_HIT' id='CHAPTER_VII_JUDITH_MAKES_A_HIT'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> +<h3>Judith Makes a Hit</h3> +</div> +<p>Judith reached home in time to prepare an +excellent basket supper for her motormen customers. +She was determined that her food +should be so good it would advertise itself and +every employe on the line would demand service. +All of the potatoes were not peeled when she +was ready for them, but her mother’s explanation +was that it seemed a pity to peel potatoes +because there was so much waste in that method. +It really was better to cook them in the skins. +Judith kissed her and laughed.</p> +<p>“Another time we’ll cook them in their jackets, +Mumsy dear, but I cleared enough money +this morning to afford to waste a few potato +peelings. If I have a week of such luck, I’ll +have to get in more supplies. The girls in +this county are just eating up my vanishing +cream and my liquid powder that won’t rub +off. I’ve made a great hit with my anti-kink +lotion with the poor colored people. Half the +female world is trying to get curled and the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_78' name='page_78'></a>78</span> +other half trying to get uncurled. I have got +rid of dozens and dozens of marcel wavers, the +steel kind that must dig into you fearfully at +night, and bottle after bottle of that quince seed +lotion, warranted to keep hair in curl for an all-day +picnic, where it usually rains, and, if it +doesn’t, you fall in the creek to even up.”</p> +<p>“Judy, you take my breath away with such +talk and such goings on. I can’t bear to think +of your selling things to negroes. There is no +telling what might happen to you if you don’t +look out.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Buck had an instinctive dislike for the +colored race. She never trusted them and was +opposed even to employing them for farm work. +She preferred the most disreputable poor white +to the best negro. It was a prejudice inherited +from her father and mother, who on first coming +to Kentucky had done much talking about +the down-trodden blacks, but being unable to +understand them had never been able to get +along with them.</p> +<p>Old Dick Buck had said of Mr. and Mrs. +Ezra Knight, “They’ve got mighty high ideas +about negroes but they ain’t got a bit of use +for a nigger.”</p> +<p>Judith shared none of this prejudice. She +liked colored people and they liked her and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_79' name='page_79'></a>79</span> +respected her. As she went speeding along the +roads in her little blue car, there was never a +darkey old or young who did not wish her well +and bow low to her friendly greeting. Only +that morning she had given a lift to a bent +old man who was on his way to Mr. Big Josh +Bucknor’s, and thereby saved him many a +weary mile.</p> +<p>“I’d take you all the way, Uncle Peter, but +I can’t trust my left hind tire up that bumpy +lane,” Judith explained.</p> +<p>“Ain’t it the truf, Missy? If Mr. Big Josh +would jes stop talkin’ ’bout it an’ buil’ hisse’f +a road! He been lowin’ he wa’ gonter git busy +an’ backgammon that lane fer twenty-five years +an he ain’t never tech it yit. That’s the reason +they done sent fer me. The ladies in the fambly +air done plum wo’ out what with cookin’ fer +comp’ny an’ washin’ up an’ all. It looks like +comp’ny air the only thing what don’t balk at +that there lane. They done sint a hurry call +fer ol’ Peter, kase they got a notion Miss Ann +Peyton air on the way. They phoned down +ter the sto’ fer me ter put my foot in the pike +an’ come erlong. They done got a phome message +from way over yonder at Throckmorton’s +that dus’ from Miss Ann’s coach wa’ a risin’. +They ain’t mo’n got shet er a batch er visitings +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_80' name='page_80'></a>80</span> +when here come news that Miss Ann air a +comin’. The ladies air sho’ peeved an’ they +done up an’ said they ain’t a gonter stay home +an’ Mr. Big Josh tell ’em ter go ’long if they’s +a min’ an’ he’n me’ll look arfter Miss Ann.”</p> +<p>“But she is at Buck Hill,” said Judith. “I +am sure of it. I saw her carriage turning in +there this morning. Poor old lady!”</p> +<p>“I ain’t seein’ that she air so po’.”</p> +<p>“It seems very pitiful to me for her never to +be wanted, always coming and always having +to pack up and leave. I’d love to have her +come visit me. You know she and I are of the +same blood, Uncle Peter—or did you know +it?”</p> +<p>“Land’s sake, Missy, I mus’ a made a mistake. +I been a thinkin’ all along that I wa’ a +ridin’ with ol’ Dick Buck’s gran’baby. You +mus’ scuse me.”</p> +<p>“So you are, Uncle Peter, I am Judith Buck, +but I have just as good a right to be Judith +Bucknor as Mr. Bob Bucknor or Mr. Big Josh +Bucknor, or any of them.”</p> +<p>“Well, bless Bob! Do tell!” was all the old +man had time to ejaculate, as they came to +the mouth of the lane, bumpy in dry weather +and muddy in wet, and he must leave the swiftly +moving car and again trust to his old limbs to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_81' name='page_81'></a>81</span> +carry him on his way. His step was lighter, +however, as he was the bearer of good tidings +to all the white folks at Mr. Big Josh’s. Miss +Ann Peyton was not coming, but was making +a visit at Buck Hill. He was full of other news, +too, but was not quite sure whether it would be +so welcome to the family.</p> +<p>“Not that she ain’t mo’ likelier than mos’ er +the young genderation,” he muttered.</p> +<p>Judith had a slap-dash impressionistic manner +of cooking all her own, following no rules +or recipes, but with an unerring instinct that +produced results. She said she cooked by ear. +Whatever her method, the motormen were vastly +pleased with the hot suppers she brought them +and the word was passed that the pretty red-headed +girl at the last stop before you got to +Ryeville would furnish a basket supper at a +reasonable figure and soon almost every man +on the line was eager to become one of her +customers.</p> +<p>The first supper was difficult because she was +determined to have it absolutely perfect, and her +mother would insist upon getting in her way, +offering various suggestions that might save a +tenth of a cent.</p> +<p>“I tell you, Mumsy, I am not saving but +making. Please sit down in this chair by the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_82' name='page_82'></a>82</span> +table, while I behave like the man in the lunatic +asylum who thought he was a steam engine. +I’m afraid I might get off the track and run +over you. If you just stay still in one spot I’ll +get through. I can’t go over you, I can’t go +around you and I can’t go under you.</p> +<p>“There’s the whistle blowing for two stops +before ours and I’m ready. Hurrah for a fortune, +Mumsy!” and with a kiss Judith was off, +bearing a basket in one hand and a tin cooler +of buttermilk in the other.</p> +<p>The Bucks’ farm was a triangle, bounded on +two sides by converging roads and the other by +the pasture lands of Buck Hill. The trolley +line skirted the back of the farm, but turned +sharply toward Ryeville before reaching the corner +where the two roads met. The track curved +about five hundred feet beyond the location of +the stop where Judith had promised to meet +the car with the suppers. There was a short +cut from the rear of the house and Judith always +took short cuts. Through the orchard, +down the hill, across a stream, up the hill, skirting +a blackberry thicket, through a grove of +beeches, dark and peaceful with lengthening +shadows falling on mossy banks, went the girl. +She stopped a moment in the grove and looked +out across the fertile country—everywhere more +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_83' name='page_83'></a>83</span> +fertile than the Buck farm but nowhere more +beautiful, she thought.</p> +<p>“I wish I had time to stop here longer,” +she sighed, putting down her basket and patting +a great beech tree. “Thank goodness the +Bucks were too lazy to cut you down and the +Knights too slow.” The honk of an automobile +horn startled her. A seven-seated passenger +car was coming down the road and in the distance +could be seen the approaching trolley.</p> +<p>“Got to run after all,” she cried. “That’s +what I get for making love to a tree.” She +flew along the path by the fence and reached +the small station before the trolley slowed down +for the stop. Breathless but triumphant she +stood, large basket in one hand, buttermilk +cooler in the other.</p> +<p>The big motor car, which was driven by Jeff +Bucknor, was parked by the roadside. From it +emerged Mildred and Nan in all the glory of +fresh and frilly lawns and the latest in hats +from a Louisville milliner.</p> +<p>“Now, Jeff,” said Mildred, “you must get +out and meet the bunch, and be sure you make +no mistake. You are to fall in love with Jean +Roland and no one else. She is the smallest +and the darkest and much the best dressed. I +do hope and trust it will be love at first sight. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_84' name='page_84'></a>84</span> +She is already just wild about you, without +ever even seeing you, and when she sees you +she is sure to topple over completely.”</p> +<p>“What nonsense,” scoffed Jeff.</p> +<p>Mildred ignored the presence of Judith Buck, +although they could not help seeing her, since +her blue cotton dress and her red gold hair +made a spot of color that would surely have +affected the optics of a stone blind person. Her +color was naturally high, and frying chicken +over a hot wood stove and sprinting for the +trolley had added to it. Nan did worse than +ignore the presence of her neighbor, as she +openly nudged her sister and whispered audibly:</p> +<p>“Look at her! What do you suppose she +has in her basket?”</p> +<p>“Hot rolls, fried chicken, hashed brown potatoes, +damson jam, radishes and young onions. +Can’t you smell ’em?” answered Judith quite +casually, as though announcing a menu at a +restaurant. At the same time she smiled +brightly and looked at the Misses Bucknor with +no trace of either embarrassment or resentment. +Jeff, who was plainly mortified at Nan’s rudeness, +laughed in spite of himself.</p> +<p>One of the things that irritated Mildred more +than anything else about Judith Buck was +that she seemed never to take offense, nor even +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_85' name='page_85'></a>85</span> +to know when an insult was intended. Sometimes +she would wear for a moment a quizzical +smile, but usually she presented what she called +a duck’s back to intentional slights. Having +satisfied Nan’s curiosity concerning what was +in her basket, she stepped forward to the platform +and swung the cooler of buttermilk back +and forth in the manner of a brakeman with a +red lantern.</p> +<p>“I think they will stop here anyhow, Miss +Buck,” said Jeff. “Do let me help you on +with your basket. I know it is heavy. I am +Jefferson Bucknor. Perhaps you don’t remember +me, but I have seen you often when you +were a child. I’ve been away from home a +long time.”</p> +<p>While Jeff was introducing himself to Judith +the trolley had slowed up and stopped. Three +young women and two young men were standing +on the platform ready to alight. They +were part of the house party and delighted +greetings were exchanged between them and +Mildred and Nan.</p> +<p>One of the young men, catching sight of +Judith, gave only a hurried handshake to his +hostesses and then sauntered towards the end +of the platform where the girl in blue cotton +was standing. He was a handsome youth, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_86' name='page_86'></a>86</span> +dressed in the latest and most pronounced style. +His manner and general carriage were indefinably +impudent. He came quite close to +Judith and peered into her face and only turned +to join the others at a sharp call from Mildred.</p> +<p>“Tom Harbison, come here this minute!”</p> +<p>At Jeff’s proffers of assistance Judith had +smilingly thanked him. “But I’m not getting +on myself—only my basket and can of milk,” +she said.</p> +<p>“Then I’ll help them on,” said Jeff, although +Judith assured him she was quite able to do it +herself.</p> +<p>“Yonder she is!” the conductor shouted to +the motorman. “I knew she would come. I +never knew a red-headed gal to disappoint a +fellow yet.”</p> +<p>Eagerly the basket was seized by the hungry +men and loud was their shout of joy over the +can of ice-cold buttermilk.</p> +<p>“You’ll find a note inside explaining how +you can phone me if you want extras,” called +Judith. “See you to-morrow at the same time. +Be sure and bring back my basket and dishes.”</p> +<p>The trolley moved off, leaving the house party +grouped at one end of the platform, Judith and +Jeff at the other. It was plain that something +was vexing Mildred and the smart young +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_87' name='page_87'></a>87</span> +beauty by her side. Jeff, however, was perfectly +unconscious of being the cause of their +annoyance.</p> +<p>“Thank you ever so much,” said Judith. +“You are a grand assistant to the chief cook.”</p> +<p>“I am delighted to have helped you, but +please tell me what on earth you mean by bringing +food to motormen.”</p> +<p>“Mean? Why, it’s my business. I am +caterer-in-ordinary to the six-thirty trolley and +perhaps others,” she laughed and looked him +squarely in the eyes. For a moment, in spite +of the persistent demand from Mildred for him +to hurry, Jeff gazed into hers. He flushed a +little and then with a hurried good-bye joined +his sisters and their guests.</p> +<p>Mildred managed to have Jean Roland occupy +the front seat by the driver. Jean was +pretty, well-dressed and no doubt was fascinating. +Jeff remembered he was supposed to +fall in love with her at first sight. Therefore he +looked at her critically. She was all Mildred +had promised, but Jeff found himself gazing +over the head of his companion at a slender +figure in blue gingham, disappearing over the +hill.</p> +<p>It was a distinct annoyance to him that Tom +Harbison should lean far out of the back of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_88' name='page_88'></a>88</span> +car and wave his forty-dollar panama hat at +Judith Buck’s retreating figure, and even a +greater annoyance that Judith should turn +around when she got to the brow of the hill +and see the fine hat doing obeisance to her.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_89' name='page_89'></a>89</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VIII_COUSIN_ANN_LOOKS_BACKWARD' id='CHAPTER_VIII_COUSIN_ANN_LOOKS_BACKWARD'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> +<h3>Cousin Ann Looks Backward</h3> +</div> +<p>Mildred was right. Buck Hill was a perfect +place for parties—of all kinds. There was a +long, broad hall leading into double parlors on +one side and on the other the dining-room and +sitting-room. The satiny floors—ideal for +dancing—reflected in their polished surfaces +rare pieces of old mahogany. French windows +opened on the porches, where comfortable wicker +chairs and hammocks were plentiful.</p> +<p>The garden to the south of the house was +noted in a county famous for gardens. Mr. +Bucknor prided himself on having every kind of +known rose that would grow in the Kentucky +climate. The garden had everything in it a garden +should have—marble benches, a sun dial, a +pergola, a summer house, a box maze and a +fountain around which was a circle of stone +flagging with flowering portulacca springing up +in the cracks. The shrubs were old and huge, +forming pleasant nooks for benches—now a +couple of syringa bushes meeting overhead, now +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_90' name='page_90'></a>90</span> +lilacs, white and purple extending an invitation +to lovers to come sit on the bench. Oh, Buck +Hill was a place for lovers! The garden a place +of all places!</p> +<p>The house party was in full swing. Five +guests had arrived on the six-thirty and three +more on the seven o’clock trolley and a car of +six had driven over from Lexington in time for +supper. The mansion was filled and running +over, but the overflow could always be taken care +of in “The Office,” a cottage near the house, a +building quite common in old southern homes, +often set aside for young male visitors.</p> +<p>Cousin Ann had been lying down all afternoon +in response to the earnest pleadings of old +Billy. He had pressed the sprigged muslin and +it hung on a hook behind the door in readiness +for the mistress. Then he brought her a pitcher +of water, fresh from the well, and a funny little +tight bouquet of verbenas.</p> +<p>“I thought you mought w’ar ’em in yo’ ha’r, +Miss Ann,” he said. “I ’member how you uster +always w’ar verbeny in yo’ ha’r.”</p> +<p>“So I did, Billy.” Miss Ann raised her hand +to her hair, but quickly dropped it, remembering +suddenly that her own snowy locks were exposed +to view. She did not relish having even old +Billy see her without her wig. She drew a scarf +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_91' name='page_91'></a>91</span> +over her head and Billy turned his away, pretending +he had not seen what she did not want +him to see.</p> +<p>“Now you dress up pretty, Miss Ann, an’ +’member th’ain’t gonter be nary pusson here +what kin hol’ a can’le to you.”</p> +<p>“Have they come yet, Billy?”</p> +<p>“Some air come an’ mo’ air comin’, so I +reckon you’d bes’ rise an’ shine, Miss Ann. Kin +I he’p you none?”</p> +<p>Such was the old man’s devotion to his mistress +that he would gladly have served her as lady’s +maid had he been called on to do so.</p> +<p>“I hope the fuss these young folks kick up +ain’t gonter ’sturb you none,” he said as he +opened the door and shrieks of gay laughter +floated up from the hall below.</p> +<p>The business of dressing was a serious one for +Miss Ann Peyton. In the first place she was +exquisitely neat and particular and every article +of clothing must be exactly right. Her clothes +were old and worn and every time she dressed +some break was discovered that must be darned. +Her hoop skirt was ever in need of repair, with +tapes that had broken from their moorings or +strings that had come loose. On this evening she +discovered a small hole in her little satin slipper +that must be adroitly mended with court plaster. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_92' name='page_92'></a>92</span> +The auburn wig must be combed and curled. A +touch of rouge must be rubbed on the poor old +cheeks. The Peyton pearls must be taken from +the strong box—a necklace, earrings, breastpin +and tiara. When all was over Miss Ann really +did look lovely. With the dignity and carriage +that any queen might have envied she swept +down the broad stairway.</p> +<p>“Heavens! Mildred, why didn’t you let us +know you were to have a fancy dress ball?” +cried Jean Roland, and all of the gay young +things gathered in the broad hall looked up as +Miss Ann descended. To most of them she +was but a figure of fun.</p> +<p>“Oh, that’s nobody but old Cousin Ann Peyton,” +explained Mildred. “She’s our chronic +visitor. She always dresses like a telephone +doll.”</p> +<p>Miss Ann heard both remarks, but gave no +sign of annoyance, except to hold her head with +added dignity. A chronic visitor could not afford +to show resentment at the thoughtless rudeness +of young persons. It seemed to the old lady +that young cousins in all the homes where she +visited were growing more and more outspoken +and rude and less and less considerate of her. +She still deemed it her right to be honored guest +wherever she chose to bestow the privilege of her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_93' name='page_93'></a>93</span> +company, although her self-esteem had had +many a quiet dig and a few hard knocks in the +recent months.</p> +<p>Sometimes the thought came to Cousin Ann +that the young cousins were perhaps taking +their cue from the older generation. Were the +older ones quite as polite and cordial as they had +been? Of course one might expect brusqueness +from Betty Throckmorton, but was there +not a change of manner even here at Buck Hill—not +just rudeness from Mildred, who was +nothing but a spoiled child, but from Mr. and +Mrs. Bucknor themselves? Then there was Big +Josh and Little Josh, both of whom had made +excuses about having her and had assured her +they would write for her to come to them later +on and she had heard from neither of them.</p> +<p>She paused a moment and looked down on +the happy young people. She wondered if they +realized how happy they were or if it would be +necessary to be old to appreciate the blessing of +merely being young. Suddenly a picture of her +youth came back to her with a poignancy that +almost hurt. It was in that very hall and she +was standing on those very stairs—perhaps in +that self-same spot. There was a house party +at Buck Hill and she had come from Peyton +only that morning in a brand new carriage with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_94' name='page_94'></a>94</span> +Billy driving the spanking pair of nags. Billy +was young then, but so trustworthy that her +father had been willing to let him take charge of +his daughter. She remembered the rejoicing +in the family when she arrived. How they gathered +around her and embraced her! Robert +Bucknor, the father of the present owner, was +then a young man. How gentle and tender he +was with her, how courtly and kind!</p> +<p>When he saw her standing alone on the +stairs looking down on the assembled company +he had sprung up the steps, two at a time, and +taken her hand in his: “Oh, Cousin Ann, how +beautiful you are! If I could only feel that +the time might come when this would be your +home—yours and mine.”</p> +<p>And she had answered, “Not yet, Cousin +Robert, please don’t talk about it yet,” because +the memory of Bert Mason, the young lover +who had been killed in the war, was still too +vivid for her to think of other ties. “But you +are very dear to me and if ever—” Thus she +had put him off.</p> +<p>While she had stood there talking to Robert +Bucknor—young then and now old and dead +and gone—Billy, with ashen face, had come +to her with the news that Peyton, her beloved +home, was completely destroyed by fire. She +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_95' name='page_95'></a>95</span> +had fainted. Young ladies usually fainted in +those days when overcome by emotion. How +the friends and cousins rallied around her with +offers of assistance! They actually quarreled +about her, so eager were they for her to visit +them.</p> +<p>“You must make your home with me.”</p> +<p>“No, with me!”</p> +<p>“I must have part of her.”</p> +<p>“My turn is next,” and so on.</p> +<p>And then the owner of Buck Hill and his +sweet wife had told her that their home was +hers and she was ever to feel as free to be there +as though she had been truly a daughter of the +house. Then had begun the years of visiting +for Ann Peyton. Her father had died a few +weeks after the fire and later an only brother. +She had more invitations to visit than she knew +what to do with. Billy had been welcome, too, +and there was always stable room for her horses +and a place in the coach house for her carriage, +no matter where she visited.</p> +<p>How many years had passed since that evening +in June when she had stood in that spot +and looked down on the crowd of young men +and women? She dared not count, but there +was the grandson of that Robert Bucknor, +standing in the great hall and trying hard to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_96' name='page_96'></a>96</span> +pretend to be interested in what a beautiful +girl was saying to him. The beautiful girl was +the one who had made the remark about a fancy +dress ball. The grandson of Robert Bucknor +had not heard her say it nor had he heard his +sister’s cruel answer, as he had come into the +hall the moment afterward. Now he was +plainly bored, but trying to conceal it. The +girl was chattering like a magpie. Suddenly +Jeff looked up and saw Miss Ann.</p> +<p>“Oh, Cousin Ann!” he cried, bounding up +the steps, two at a time, quite as his grandfather +had done on that day so many, many +years ago, “how lovely you look! I’d like to +dance a minuet with you.” Then he gave her +his arm and escorted her down the stairs. Supper +was announced immediately and Jeff +marched in with his aged cousin, much to the +chagrin of Mildred, who had planned otherwise +for her good-looking brother.</p> +<p>“Horrid old thing!” she said to Tom Harbison, +who was dancing attendance on her. +“Grabbing Jeff that way! How does she expect +the men to go around if she takes one of +the beaux?”</p> +<p>“And did you see her with flowers in her +hair?” asked Nan in a stage whisper. “Verbenas!” +and then a fat boy who sang tenor +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_97' name='page_97'></a>97</span> +and passed as something of a wag sang:</p> +<table style='margin: auto' summary=''><tr><td> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'> +“Sweet Evelina,<br /> +Last time I seen her<br /> +Stole a verbena<br /> +Out of her hair.”</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>At this all the young folks laughed. Miss +Ann heard Nan’s stage whisper, and felt Mildred’s +glance of disapproval and was quite conscious +that the fat boy’s song was meant to +make game of her, but nothing mattered much +except that Robert Bucknor’s grandson, who +looked so like him, had run up the steps to +meet her and had told her she looked lovely and +was now holding her hand tightly clasped +against his warm young heart. She saw old +Billy peeping from the pantry door as they +entered the dining-room and she caught his +glance of pride and gratification when she appeared +with the young master.</p> +<p>“What I tell you?” he muttered. “Ain’t +my Miss Ann the pick er the bunch?”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_98' name='page_98'></a>98</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_IX_THE_VETERANS_BIG_SECRET' id='CHAPTER_IX_THE_VETERANS_BIG_SECRET'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> +<h3>The Veterans’ Big Secret</h3> +</div> +<p>“Mumsy dear,” said Judith, “I’m going +over to Buck Hill this morning and sell all +kinds of things to my cousins and their guests.”</p> +<p>“Judith, you are not! How can you go +near those people when they treat you like the +dust under their feet?”</p> +<p>“But, Mumsy, they don’t. People can’t +treat you like dust under their feet unless you +are beneath them, and I’m not in the least +teensy weensy bit beneath the Bucknors of Buck +Hill. Now they might treat me like the dust +in the air—the dust they have to breathe when +the wind blows—breathe that or stop breathing +altogether. They might not like to breathe +me in. I might be a little thick for them, but +breathe me they must. I did not make myself +kin to them. I just <i>am</i> kin to them. I don’t +know that it makes any great difference to me +to know that I am. I rather like to think +that, way back yonder, what is now me had +something to do with building Buck Hill, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_99' name='page_99'></a>99</span> +because it is beautiful. The part that’s me may +have planned the garden. Who knows?</p> +<p>“But I’m not going there to sell things because +they are my cousins. I’m not going to +mention such a disagreeable subject. I’m too +good a salesman for that. I am merely going +there because I think I might make some money. +They have a house party on and when people +go visiting they always forget their tooth +brushes and hairpins. I don’t exactly enjoy +having Mildred Bucknor pretend I’m not +around when I know I’m very much in evidence. +She had that way with her at school +and then it would have hurt me, if I had not +been perfectly conscious of the fact that she +couldn’t tell the difference between nouns and +verbs in Latin and got gender and case and +tense all mixed up.</p> +<p>“Yes, Mumsy, I’m going to Buck Hill and +clear about five dollars, even though I may +have to take a good snubbing. I want to go +less than ever since Jefferson Bucknor was so +nice to me yesterday evening. I didn’t tell you +he helped boost my basket on the trolley and +actually took the can of buttermilk in his own +aristocratic hands and swung it on to the platform. +Well, he did, and he made his sister +furious—and he bored a pretty girl with whom +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_100' name='page_100'></a>100</span> +he is supposed to fall in love—one of the house +party. I don’t want poor Mr. Jeff Bucknor +to have to take up for me—which he is sure +to do if the hammers begin to knock—but even +to spare his feelings I will not quit trying to +sell my wares.”</p> +<p>“Judith, you must not lower yourself.”</p> +<p>“I’m not lowering myself one bit, Mumsy. +Just look at it this way: Suppose I had a shop +in Ryeville. Wouldn’t I serve any customers +who came to the shop, whether they were kin +and refused to admit kinship or not—whether +they called me red-head, when everybody knows +my hair is auburn, or not? I’d hardly refuse +to sell to those persons who did not consider +me their social equal and did not ask me to house +parties or to dances when my feet are just itching +to dance. I’d sell to any and everybody +who came in the shop. Exactly! Well, now +you see I have a shop on wheels. I must go +to any and every body who might have use for +my wares. I’d have a very limited clientele if +I stuck to those who considered me on their +level and whom I considered on mine. So give +me your blessing, Mumsy, and wish me well.”</p> +<p>“Judith, how you do run on! Aren’t you +afraid that that Jeff Bucknor will think you +are running after him?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_101' name='page_101'></a>101</span></p> +<p>“Not in the least. He’s not that kind of a +man. I know by the way his ears are set and +the way his hair grows on his forehead and the +way his eyes crinkle up at the corners as though +he never missed a joke. People who never miss +jokes don’t go around thinking other persons +are running after them all the time. I know +by the way he looks out of his eyes. It isn’t +only his eyes that look at you but there is something +behind them that looks at you. I reckon +if I were a sissy girl I’d say his eyes were +soulful, but you see I’m not. I tell you, +Mumsy, my Cousin Jeff is a powerful likely +young man and I’m quite proud of him. Too +bad he doesn’t know he’s my kin.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Buck sighed. “I guess he wouldn’t +claim relationship with you if he did know. +Those Bucknors of Buck Hill are a proud-stomached +lot. They’ve been dusting me on +the pike ever since I was a little girl—dusting +me and never even seeing me.”</p> +<p>“Did you ever speak to them?”</p> +<p>“Of course not. I was never one to put +myself forward.”</p> +<p>“Well, why should they speak to you any +more than you speak to them? Aren’t you as +good as they are? Surely, and a great deal +prettier. You are as much prettier than Mrs. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_102' name='page_102'></a>102</span> +Bucknor as a day lily is prettier than a cabbage +rose,” declared Judith.</p> +<p>“Oh, how you do talk, Judy! Of course, +when I say they didn’t ever speak I mean they +never went out of their way to speak. When +we had deaths over here they kind of acted +neighborly like and sent word to call on them +if we needed anything, but we never did, as my +mother and I always saved mourning from time +to time. I guess they’d have been a little +more back-and-forth friendly if it hadn’t have +been for your Grandfather Buck. He was kind +of difficult like when he was drinking and that +was most times. He was either drinking or +getting over drunks as a general thing. Then +he was mighty lazy and shiftless.”</p> +<p>“Poor Mumsy! You’ve had a right hard +time with us Bucks. Grandfather Buck was so +lazy he worried you to death and I’m so energetic +I know I annoy you terribly. But all +this talking isn’t selling toilet articles to house +parties. By the way, I got a ’phone message +from my motormen. They want six suppers +this evening. That means I must run into Ryeville +and buy some more baskets and lay in +provisions of all kinds. I wish I’d been triplets, +or at least twins. I could accomplish so much +more.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_103' name='page_103'></a>103</span></p> +<p>“Land sakes, Judy! Surely you do enough +as it is. All six dinners at once?”</p> +<p>“Oh no! Two on the six, two on the six-thirty +and two for the seven. I’m afraid I’ll +wear the path into a ditch. I’m glad to see +the beets are big enough to eat and before you +know it we’ll have some snap beans and peas. +I’m going to get a little darkey to work the +garden, because I simply can’t give the time +for it. Besides, my time is really too valuable +for digging just now. Did I tell you I had +taken the contract to develop all the amateur +photographic films for Baker & Bowles? I +saw them about it the other day. They have +an awful time getting it done right and they +knew I had done a lot of that work for school, +so they asked me to try. Of course I couldn’t +let such a chance slip and since I can do it at +night I accepted. It will take only one or two +evenings a week. They furnish all the chemicals +and it pays very well. I’ll do it through +the summer anyhow, until school starts.”</p> +<p>“What a child! What a child!” was all +Mrs. Buck could say. “I don’t believe even +the Norse sailor could have beat her.”</p> +<p>Again the old men on the hotel porch were +treated to a sight of Judith Buck. She parked +her little blue car directly across the street from +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_104' name='page_104'></a>104</span> +the Rye House and began the business of +shopping.</p> +<p>“What you reckon that Judy gal is up to +now?” queried Judge Middleton. “I betcher +she’s goin’ in the butcher shop.”</p> +<p>“I betcher she ain’t,” said Pete Barnes for +the sake of argument. “I betcher she’s going in +the Emporium to buy herself a blue dress.”</p> +<p>“Maybe,” ruminated Major Fitch. “I always +did hold to women folks that had sense +enough to wear blue. That blue that Miss +Judith Buck wears is just my kind of blue too—not +too light and not too dark—kinder betwixt +and between, like way-off hills or—”</p> +<p>“Kittens’ eyes,” suggested Colonel Crutcher +with a twinkle.</p> +<p>“Cat’s foot! Nothin’ of the kind! Anyhow, +that kind of blue is mighty becomin’ to Miss +Judith.”</p> +<p>They all agreed to this and when Judith appeared +again with her arms laden with bundles +to be stowed in the back of the car the old men +called in chorus:</p> +<p>“Hiyer, Miss Judith?”</p> +<p>“Hiyer, yourselves?” she answered.</p> +<p>“Come over and tell us the news,” they +begged, and she ran across the street and +perched on the railing of the Rye House, while +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_105' name='page_105'></a>105</span> +she recounted what news she had picked up on +her peddling trip of the day before.</p> +<p>“Uncle Peter Turner has gone over to cook +and wash dishes for the ladies at Mr. Big Josh +Bucknor’s. They haven’t had a servant for +weeks. They thought Miss Ann Peyton was +coming but she turned in at Buck Hill, I saw +her. She has been visiting the Throckmortons +and left there in a hurry. Old Aunt Minnie, +over at Clayton, has just had her hundredth +descendant. She had sixteen children of her +own and all of them have had their share of +children and grandchildren. I know it’s so because +I just sold one of the great-granddaughters +some hair straightener and a box of flea +powder and she thought of getting some talcum +powder for the new baby, but decided to use +flea powder instead.”</p> +<p>The old men laughed delightedly. “Tell us +some more,” they demanded.</p> +<p>“The widow Simco, at Nine Mile House, +asked me what had become of Mr. Pete Barnes. +I sold her some henna shampoo and a box of +bronze hairpins.”</p> +<p>Pete grinned sheepishly, but straightened his +cravat and pulled his whiskers in a way men +have when complimented by the fair sex.</p> +<p>“How’s your business?” asked Major Fitch. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_106' name='page_106'></a>106</span></p> +<p>“Which business?” asked Judith. “I’ve got +so many you’ll have to say which one. But all +of them are coming on pretty well. I must +be going. So long!” She was up and away +like a blue flash.</p> +<p>“Now ain’t she likely?” quavered old Judge +Middleton. “There ain’t many pretty gals like +her’d stop an’ gossip with a bilin’ of ol’ has-beens +like us.”</p> +<p>“Yes, that’s the truth,” said Colonel Crutcher. +“Did you see Bob Bucknor’s oldest girl going +by in her father’s car while Miss Judy was +cheering us up? She had a young blood in with +her—that young Harbison from Louisville. +He nearly fell out of the car, rubbering at Miss +Judy. That Bucknor miss hardly more than +glanced this way, but she was showing the +whites of her eyes in that glance. My granddaughter, +Betty, was telling me only last night +that the only reason Judy Buck wasn’t asked to +join their dancing club was that the Bucknor +gals got their backs up about asking her and +kind of talked them down—calling Judy common +and poor white trash and such like. Betty +says the girls all like her better than they do +the Bucknors, but you know how it is with the +folks from Buck Hill—they just naturally +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_107' name='page_107'></a>107</span> +take the lead in social matters and nobody ever +has crossed them. I wish I had a house of my +own. I tell you I’d give that Judy Buck a +comin’ out party that would make your hair +curl,” declared the Colonel.</p> +<p>“Well, I’ve got a house, but it wouldn’t be +big enough to ask all the people I’d want to +have to Miss Judy’s ball,” spoke up Major +Fitch.</p> +<p>“By golly, I got a idee!” exclaimed Pete +Barnes, letting his chair that had been tilted +against the wall drop on all four legs and bringing +his feet, which had been draped over the +railing, to the floor at the same time with a +resounding stamp. “I got an idee for sure.”</p> +<p>“Well?” asked Major Fitch.</p> +<p>“Let’s all of us ol’ ones get together an’ +hire the skating rink an’ give Miss Judy Buck +a party that this county won’t ever forget.”</p> +<p>The other chairs came down on all fours and +the veterans of the Rye House porch drew +together in solemn conclave. Old tongues +clicked and old beards wagged, while Pete +Barnes’ idea took constructive shape.</p> +<p>“We’ll ask all the neighborhood and even +some out of the neighborhood. We’ll have the +band up from Louisville and a caterer from +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_108' name='page_108'></a>108</span> +there and do the thing up brown,” chuckled +Pete.</p> +<p>“Maybe society will hold back when we ask +them to come to old Dick Buck’s granddaughter’s +ball,” suggested one.</p> +<p>“Don’t tell ’em whose ball it is until they get +there. That’s the way to catch the snippy +ones. Let’s don’t even tell Miss Judy. It +might make her kind of shy. Just let ’em all +get to dancin’ an’ kinder warmed up an’ then +when we got ’em where they can’t back out +without bein’ mighty rude we’ll up an’ make +speeches an’ let the county know how we stand +for that girl an’ what she is an’ how proud +we are of her,” suggested Judge Middleton.</p> +<p>“We’ll get all the old boys in town to come +in on it. I mean our crowd, and there won’t +be one who will give the secret away. And +we’ll give that gal a rush that would turn her +pretty red head if it belonged to anybody else—but +there is no turning a wise head like hers.”</p> +<p>“We won’t let any women in on it either,” +said Pete.</p> +<p>“Not even the Widow Simco?” asked Major +Fitch.</p> +<p>“The women oughter have looked after the +gal long ago, and now we men folks will take +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_109' name='page_109'></a>109</span> +it on us. What’ll we call the ball?” asked Mr. +Barnes, ignoring the Major’s thrust.</p> +<p>“Call it a dayboo party, but jes’ don’t say +whose it is,” suggested Colonel Crutcher. +“There’ll be plenty of jokes about it an’ the +smart Alecks will try to get the laugh on us +because they’ll be a thinkin’ we don’t know +what dayboo means an’ we’ll take the laugh an’ +keep it ’til we need it. Lets go get the invites +struck off over to the Ryeville Courier right +now.”</p> +<p>The old men got busy immediately, although +it was a lazy morning in June and the Rye +House porch was shady and cool. Recruits were +mustered in until they numbered ten, all +anxious and eager to share expense and glory. +First, the skating rink was engaged for the +following Friday night. A caterer in Louisville +was next called up by telephone and supper +ordered, “with all the fixin’s” that the latest +thing in debut parties demanded. The band +was engaged and the invitations set up in type +and printed before the noon whistles blew for +dinner. To be sure, the invitations did somewhat +resemble notices of an auction sale, but +what did it matter to the old men of Ryeville, +who were undertaking this party for their +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_110' name='page_110'></a>110</span> +favorite girl? This was the card:</p> +<table style='margin: auto' summary=''><tr><td> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'> +<i>You Are Invited to Attend a Debut Ball<br /> +<span style='margin-left: 0.390625em;'>At the Skating Rink on Friday Night</span><br /> +<span style='margin-left: 1.953125em;'>By the Old Men of Ryeville</span><br /> +<span style='margin-left: 1.171875em;'>Dancing and Refreshments Free</span><br /> +R. S. V. P. P. D. Q.</i></p> +</td></tr></table> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_111' name='page_111'></a>111</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_X_JUDITH_SCORES_AGAIN' id='CHAPTER_X_JUDITH_SCORES_AGAIN'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER X</h2> +<h3>Judith Scores Again</h3> +</div> +<p>The house party at Buck Hill was not proving +the great success that Mildred and Nan +had hoped for. All of the elements of pleasure +and gaiety were present but to the anxious +hostesses the affair seemed to drag somewhat. In +the first place, brother Jeff utterly refused to +fall in love with their prize guest and the prize +guest, being accustomed to conquest, was peevish +in consequence. Not that Jeff was in the +least rude. On the contrary, he was especially +polite and charming to all of his sisters’ friends, +fetching and carrying for them, dancing with +them, playing tennis with the athletic, talking +sentimental nothings with the romantic, and +gravely discussing the Einstein theory with the +high-brows. He did everything that was required +of him but fall in love with Jean Roland.</p> +<p>The young people were gathered at one end +of the long piazza. At the other end sat Miss +Ann Peyton and Mrs. Bucknor. Miss Ann +was engaged in her favorite occupation of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_112' name='page_112'></a>112</span> +crocheting thread lamp-mats and Mrs. Bucknor +vainly endeavoring to get to the bottom of the +family stocking basket. The forenoon is always +a difficult period in which to entertain a house +party. It seems almost impossible to start anything, +at least so Mildred and Nan felt. Even +the most frivolously inclined do not want to +flirt in the morning.</p> +<p>Everybody was feeling a little dull, perhaps +from having eaten more breakfast than is +usual in this day and generation, but Buck Hill +held to the custom of olden times of much and +varied food with which to start the day. One +can’t be very lively after shad roe, liver and +bacon, hot rolls and corn cakes all piled on top +of strawberries and cream, and the whole washed +down with coffee.</p> +<p>Jean Roland smothered a yawn, a deliberate +yawn—not the kind you can’t repress because +the air is close and you feel like a goldfish +when the water in the bowl has not been changed +and you must gape for breath. The fat boy +had been dancing attendance on her for the last +hour and she was wearied with his witty sallies. +Jeff and Willis Truman, a former classmate, +had started a game of bridge with two of the +more serious-minded girls.</p> +<p>“Bridge is one of the things I can’t play,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_113' name='page_113'></a>113</span> +Jean had announced, and it was hardly complimentary +that the game was being played in +spite of her.</p> +<p>“By the way, Jeff, you know the Titian-haired +queen you were so taken up with at the +station last evening that you couldn’t greet your +guests?” asked Tom Harbison. “I saw her +again this morning.”</p> +<p>“That little country person!” exclaimed Jean +Roland. “No style at all to her.”</p> +<p>“Not a particle!” echoed Nan.</p> +<p>“Oh, that little cousin of ours?” said Jeff, +pausing in his game.</p> +<p>“Jeff, how can you?” cried Mildred. “She’s +a very common person who happens to be named +Buck and now they are trumping up some foolish +old tale that they were Bucknors ’way back +yonder in the middle ages and that they are related +to us. It is too ridiculous for words.”</p> +<p>“Our kin all the same,” teased Jeff, going on +with his game.</p> +<p>“Right fetching skirt!” said Tom. “She +was flirting with some men on the hotel porch +when we drove by this morning. I reckon they +were all cousins, too.”</p> +<p>Jeff looked up from his game with a gleam +of anger in his eye. He lost track of the cards, +got confused, played from the wrong hand, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_114' name='page_114'></a>114</span> +blocked himself from a re-entry and promptly +got set. All because Tom Harbison intimated +that Judith Buck was not conducting herself +with propriety.</p> +<p>“Here comes somebody! I saw a car turn in +from the pike,” announced Nan. “I hope it +isn’t any more company.”</p> +<p>The attention of everyone was focused on +the approaching vehicle. It was Judith’s little +blue car, skimming down the avenue with the +usual speed exacted of it by its stern young +mistress, who seemed bent on getting at least +thirty-six hours out of the twenty-four. No +one could have said she did not have style in her +manner of turning a curve and neatly landing +at the yard gate.</p> +<p>“Speak of the devil,” muttered Mildred, “if +it isn’t that Judith Buck. What on earth can +she want?”</p> +<p>Judith, with her usual expedition, was out of +the car and with sample case in hand was +through the gate and half way up the walk before +any one attempted to answer Mildred’s +query.</p> +<p>“Come to see your brother, perhaps,” suggested +Jean Roland.</p> +<p>“Ah, be a sister to me,” sighed the fat boy, +“please be a sister to me, Mildred.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_115' name='page_115'></a>115</span></p> +<p>Judith faltered not a moment, but marched +straight up the steps. The young men all +jumped from their seats and Jeff came forward +with outstretched hand, but the girl pretended +not to see the gesture. With a businesslike +“Good-morning,” she proceeded to open +up her sample case and begin her salesman’s +patter: “I have here—” She was determined +that the call should be purely a commercial one +and that the Bucknors could none of them think +for a moment that she sought or even desired +any social dealings with them.</p> +<p>“Perhaps you had better take your wares +to the back door. The servants may want to +buy some,” suggested Mildred, with more insolence +than her family dreamed she was capable +of showing.</p> +<p>“Thank you. A little later on I shall take +advantage of your kind suggestion. I have a +line of wares especially put up for back doors. +These things I have been telling you about are +intended for front doors. Unlike most of the +companies who have similar goods on the market, +this one allows the agent to deliver the +article the moment the sale is made,” Judith continued +in her salesman’s manner. “I have a +complete stock of goods in my car and while I +sell by sample you do not have to wait for days +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_116' name='page_116'></a>116</span> +and weeks to enjoy the really excellent bargains +I am enabled to offer you. This now is +a cleansing cream. No matter how clean you +may think your face is, you will find after applying +this you are vastly mistaken. Yes, disconcerting +for the moment but comforting when +you realize how much cleaner you are to be than +your neighbor.”</p> +<p>The young people had gathered around her +and even Miss Ann Peyton and Mrs. Bucknor +put down their work and came to see what +Judith had to sell.</p> +<p>“Will any one of you young ladies let me +prove the value of this cream by applying it to +the countenance?”</p> +<p>“Anoint me,” suggested the fat boy.</p> +<p>“Oh, no, this is intended solely for ladies. I +have a masculine brand to which I am coming +later. I will give a sample jar to any one who +will let me demonstrate on her.”</p> +<p>Judith’s manner was businesslike and impersonal, +but her color was heightened by excitement +that she was determined not to show.</p> +<p>“Why don’t you try it on yourself?” said +Nan. “I bet yours will come off, all right.”</p> +<p>Judith dipped her fingers in the jar and +daubed her glowing cheek with the cleansing +cream. Everybody laughed. “And now while +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_117' name='page_117'></a>117</span> +we leave this cream on for a minute or two I +will endeavor to interest you in my various +powders.” She gave an animated recommendation +of powders from talcum to insect.</p> +<p>“And now we will see the miraculous powers +of the cleansing cream.” She took a handkerchief +from her pocket and after a vigorous rubbing +of the anointed cheek submitted the evidence +to the audience.</p> +<p>“That is excellent,” said Mrs. Bucknor. +“Let me have a jar.”</p> +<p>Next Judith demonstrated the virtues of a +vanishing cream and made several sales. Then +the men must be told of an excellent shaving +soap and healing powder. Scented soaps of all +kinds were then displayed, shampoos, hair tonics, +pocket combs, tooth brushes and paste.</p> +<p>The lassitude which had held the house party +in thrall was dispelled. It was almost as though +Judith had applied a cleansing fluid to the atmosphere. +She stood in their midst, displaying +her wares with an earnestness and simplicity that +was most convincing. Who could help but buy +from the girl?</p> +<p>Miss Ann looked at her long and searchingly. +So this was the girl that old Billy thought +resembled his mistress. Her thoughts went back +to her girlhood. When she was the age of this +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_118' name='page_118'></a>118</span> +Judith could she have so demeaned herself as +to go around peddling cosmetics and soaps? +Certainly not! She would have starved before +she would have stooped to such an occupation. +Starved! What did she know about starving? +The morning she had gone away from Cousin +Betty Throckmorton’s without her breakfast was +the first time in her life she had ever missed a +meal. Visitors in the blue-grass regions of Kentucky +are not apt to be hungry. Would it have +been better if, when she was young and strong, +she, too, had endeavored to help herself instead +of visiting, eternally visiting?</p> +<p>All of this flashed through the old lady’s mind. +Suppose there had been no cousins and aunts +and uncles to visit—what then? Suppose she +had been as this girl was, with no relations on +whom she might depend for assistance. Suppose +her relations had been poor. Suppose +they had not wanted her. Not wanted her! +Did they want her? Did anybody want her? +So intently did she gaze on Judith’s face that +the girl’s eyes were drawn in the direction of +the old lady. Miss Ann would have liked to +buy some of the toilet articles, but the quarterly +allowance from her small estate was not due for +many days and never was there money enough +for her to indulge herself in the kind of wares +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_119' name='page_119'></a>119</span> +Judith offered for sale. For a moment Judith +stopped her salesman’s patter and gazed into the +eyes of Cousin Ann Peyton.</p> +<p>“Poor old lady!” was her thought. “It +must be terrible to be old and idle. I wish I +could do something for her just to let her know +I like her. I believe I might even love her.”</p> +<p>The sales had been larger than Judith in her +fondest dreams had imagined they could be. +Even the scornful Mildred purchased a few +things that took her fancy and the young men, +one and all, remembered they were sadly in +need of shaving cream and tooth brushes, or +if they were not in immediate need it was just +as well to lay in a supply. There was much +laughing and talking and badinage, but through +it all Judith held herself with a certain poise +that gave all of the buyers to understand that +she was merely the store-keeper and did not wish +to be regarded in any other light.</p> +<p>Jeff was singularly silent while Judith was +crying up her wares. He stood moodily aside, +looking on but never offering to purchase shaving +cream or other masculine requirements. He +wished she had not come. He resented her +placing herself in a position for all of these +wretched persons to patronize her. He hated +the look on Tom Harbison’s face as he edged +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_120' name='page_120'></a>120</span> +closer and closer to the girl, insisting upon putting +down his name for one of every article offered +for sale.</p> +<p>Judith, however, was so bent on being a +salesman that she was absolutely unaware of the +admiration she had evidently created in the +eyes of young Harbison. When she went to her +car to get the wares stored in the back it was +Harbison who sprang forward to assist her. +Jeff watched the couple as they went down the +walk to the yard gate and a suppressed fury +gripped him when he noticed that Tom was +much closer to Judith than was necessary. He +knew perfectly well that Tom Harbison always +walked too close to any girl, and had a habit of +leaning over any member of the fair sex with +a protecting air, occasionally touching her elbow +as though to assist her over anything, even so +small as a pebble, that might be in her way. +When they reached the yard gate one might +have supposed a dragon threatened the ladye +faire, so solicitous was his manner, so brave his +bearing.</p> +<p>Jeff could stand it no longer. He ran down +the steps and with long strides arrived in time +to assist the supposedly helpless maiden.</p> +<p>“I want to help you,” he said shortly.</p> +<p>“That’s very kind, but really the things are +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_121' name='page_121'></a>121</span> +not heavy,” and Judith began busily picking out +the articles from the back of her car and putting +them in a basket.</p> +<p>But Jeff had come to help, and help he +would. He assumed a cousinly air that put +Tom Harbison’s courtliness entirely in the shade. +If any protecting was to be done he, Jeff Bucknor, +was going to do it. He was the proper +person to carry the basket of toilet articles as +heir apparent to Buck Hill and an avowed kinsman +of the lady. He even managed to crowd +Harbison from the walk as, with basket in one +hand, he protected the astonished Judith with +the other. When the back-door customers were +visited, the young master insisted upon accompanying +Judith, and there he stood guard while +she talked concerning the virtues of her anti-kink +lotion and scented soaps.</p> +<p>She wished he would leave her for a moment, +as she had a little private business to transact +with Uncle Billy, but he stuck closer than any +brother was ever known to stick and she must +let him see her hand to the old man a package, +saying:</p> +<p>“Please, Uncle Billy, give this to Miss Ann +Peyton and tell her it is from a sincere admirer. +It is just a bottle of lavender water, but I +thought she might like it.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_122' name='page_122'></a>122</span></p> +<p>Uncle Billy bowed so low that his beard almost +touched the ground.</p> +<p>“Thank you, thank you, missy! I been a +sayin’ that you air the onlies’ one in the whole +county what kin hol a can’le to what my Miss +Ann wa’ in ol’ days—an’ air now fer that +matter.”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_123' name='page_123'></a>123</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XI_A_SURPRISE_FOR_CINDERELLA' id='CHAPTER_XI_A_SURPRISE_FOR_CINDERELLA'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2> +<h3>A Surprise for Cinderella</h3> +</div> +<p>The Ryeville Courier reported that the county +was “agog” over the ball to be given by the +veterans of the Rye House porch. Invitations +were delivered with the same expedition that +they had been printed and by nightfall of the +day the scheme was hatched everybody who was +anybody, and a great many who made no pretense +of being, had received a notice that he or +she was expected to come to the skating rink on +Friday night to a debut party.</p> +<p>“We’ll show ’em,” boasted Judge Middleton, +who with Colonel Crutcher had driven about +town in his buggy, delivering invitations. +“First, we’ll stop at the Buck place and ask +Judith. We can’t have a party without our +Cinderella.”</p> +<p>Judith had returned from her peddling trip, +and was busily engaged in preparing the motormen’s +supper, when her old admirers arrived.</p> +<p>“Hi, Miss Judy!” they called from the +buggy. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_124' name='page_124'></a>124</span></p> +<p>“Hi, yourself!” she cried, appearing around +the side of the house with floury hands and +flushed face.</p> +<p>“We’re gonter give a ball and we want to +ask you to come to it,” said the Colonel. “It +is to be this Friday night coming.”</p> +<p>“Oh, I wish I could, but you know I never +leave my mother at night. You see, she is all +alone.”</p> +<p>“Of course you don’t, but your mother is +especially invited to this ball. See her name is +written over yours on the envelope. Why, +child, it wouldn’t be a ball unless you came. We—we—” +but here Judge Middleton dug an +elbow into the Colonel’s ribs and took the conversation +in his own hands.</p> +<p>“The fact is, Miss Judy, all of us old fellows +think a lot of you and we are kind of ’lowing +you’d dance with us and make it lively for us. +We’ll take it as a special favor if you stretch a +point and come—you and your mother.”</p> +<p>Judith glowed with appreciation and put a +floury hand on the old man’s arm.</p> +<p>“Oh, Judge Middleton, you are good—all +of you are so kind to me. I’d rather come to +your party than do anything in the world. I +never have been to a real ball—a picnic is +about the closest I’ve come to one, that and some +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_125' name='page_125'></a>125</span> +school entertainments, but you see I haven’t a +suitable dress. You wouldn’t like me to come +looking like Cinderella after the clock struck +twelve, would you now?”</p> +<p>“Well, you’d look better than most even if +you did,” put in Colonel Crutcher, “but you +needn’t be coming the Flora McFlimsey on us. +Don’t we see you running around here in a +blue dress all the time? And if that ain’t good +enough I bet you’ve got a white muslin somewhere +with a blue sash and maybe a blue hair +ribbon.”</p> +<p>Judith laughed. “Well, I reckon I have +and, after all, nobody is going to look at me +and I do want to go. I’ll say yes and I can +bulldoze Mother into accepting, too, I am sure. +I think it is the grandest thing that ever happened +for all of you to be giving a debut +party, and I’m going to come, and what’s more, +I intend to dance every dance.”</p> +<p>“Now you are talkin’,” shouted the old men. +“Save some dances for us.”</p> +<p>After they had driven away, the buggy enveloped +in the inevitable cloud of limestone dust, +Judith still stood in the yard until she saw the +cloud, little more than a speck in the distance, +turn into the Buck Hill avenue.</p> +<p>“I reckon they’ll all laugh at the dear old +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_126' name='page_126'></a>126</span> +men and make fun of their having a debut party +for themselves, but I think it is just too sweet +of them. Oh, oh, oh, if I only had a new +dress!”</p> +<p>There was a general invitation for Buck Hill, +family and visitors, and an especial one for Miss +Ann Peyton, to whom the old men of Ryeville +wished to show marked respect as being of their +generation.</p> +<p>“Of course, we shall all go,” announced Mr. +Bucknor.</p> +<p>“It sounds rather common,” objected Mildred. +“And only look at the invitations! Did +anyone ever see such ridiculous-looking things?”</p> +<p>But everyone wanted to go in spite of Mildred’s +uncertainty, so R. S. V. P.’s were sent +P. D. Q. and old Billy got busy greasing harness +and polishing the coach so that his equipage +might be fit for the first lady of the land to go +to the ball.</p> +<p>“Air you gonter ’pear in yo’ sprigged muslin?” +he asked Miss Ann, “or is the ’casion sech +as you will w’ar yo’ black lace an’ diments?”</p> +<p>“Black lace and diamonds,” said Miss Ann, +“but I shall have to begin darning immediately. +Lace is very perishable.”</p> +<p>“It sho’ is,” agreed Billy. Far be it from him +to remind his mistress that the black lace had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_127' name='page_127'></a>127</span> +been going long enough to deserve a pension. +So Miss Ann darned and darned on the old +black lace and with ammonia and a discarded +tooth brush she cleaned the diamond necklace +and earrings and the high comb set with brilliants +and her many rings. It was exciting to be +going to a ball again. It had been many a year +since she had even been invited to one. She was +as pleased as a child over having an invitation +all to herself—not that she would let anyone +know it, but she let old Billy express his gratification.</p> +<p>“I tell you, Miss Ann, that there Colonel +Crutcher air folks, him an’ Judge Middleton +both. They don’t put on no airs but they’s +folksy enough not ter have ter. I reckon they +knowed you’s a gonter be the belle er the ball +wheresomever it air an’ that’s the reason they +done brung you a spechul invite.”</p> +<p>The old men of the town met on the Rye +House porch after supper that night to report +progress.</p> +<p>“Everything’s goin’ fine,” was the general +report.</p> +<p>“Not an out-and-out refusal yet.”</p> +<p>“Came mighty near not getting Miss Judith,” +said Colonel Crutcher. “First she couldn’t +leave her mother and then when we told her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_128' name='page_128'></a>128</span> +Mrs. Buck was especially invited she put up a +plea of not having the right kind of dress. +Said she’d look like Cinderella after the clock +struck twelve. But the Judge and I looked +so miserable over it that the child finally said +she’d come, but I reckon she’ll be wearing an +old dress.”</p> +<p>“Looks like she’s got so many businesses she +might buy herself a dress,” suggested one.</p> +<p>“Not her. She’s saving every cent to put +guano on the land.”</p> +<p>“Well, beauty unadorned is adorned the +most,” mused Major Fitch.</p> +<p>“Say, I got a idee,” put in Pete Barnes.</p> +<p>“Go to it, Pete! Your idees are something +worth while here lately. What is it?”</p> +<p>“What’s the reason we can’t get little Judy +a dress over to Louisville? Us old men can all +chip in an’ it wouldn’t amount to mor’n a good +nights losin’ at poker.”</p> +<p>“She’s right proud. Do you reckon she’d +get her back up and decline to accept it?” +asked Judge Middleton.</p> +<p>“Not Judith. She’s not the kind to be hunting +slights, but suppose we send it to her +anonymous like and pretend her fairy godmother +had something to do with it,” suggested +Pete. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_129' name='page_129'></a>129</span></p> +<p>“And who’s gonter buy it? We don’t want +any of the Ryeville women in on this,” said +Colonel Crutcher.</p> +<p>“I got another idee,” said Pete. “Let’s get +the motormen to get their wives down at the +other end to shop for us. I was talkin’ to one +only this mornin’ an’ he said Miss Judy cooked +the best dinner he ever et an’ I’m pretty sure +they’d be glad to help us out.”</p> +<p>“But they might help us out too gaudy like.”</p> +<p>“Gee, they couldn’t go wrong if we told them +it must be white—white with a blue sash.”</p> +<p>“I’d like it to be white tarlatan or something +thinnish and gauzy like and kind of stand-outy +without being stand-offish.”</p> +<p>“And I think a few gold beads, kind of trimming +it up, would be becoming to our debutante.”</p> +<p>“And we ought to get her slippers and stockings +to match.”</p> +<p>“How about the size?”</p> +<p>That was a stumper until Pete Barnes had +another idee, and that was that old Otto +Schmidt, the trusty shoe repairer of Ryeville, +might know. He did. In fact, even then he +had a pair of Judith’s shoes to be half soled.</p> +<p>“She’s schlim and long,” said Otto, “five +and a half touble A.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_130' name='page_130'></a>130</span></p> +<p>So five and a half double A it was. “And +make ’em gold,” suggested the Colonel.</p> +<p>The motorman approached was delighted to +undertake the commission. “My wife’s pretty +grateful not to have to be worrying herself to +death about my supper and she’ll be tickled +stiff to have a chance to go spend some money +even if it isn’t for herself. She used to be +saleslady in the biggest shop in Louisville, before +she married me. She’s just about Miss +Buck’s size, too,” he said.</p> +<p>Minute directions were given the kindly motorman +as to the dress being white and thinnish +and standoutish, with a blue sash and gold bead +trimming, the slippers long and slim and gold.</p> +<p>“A blue ribbin for her hair, if you don’t +mind, too,” said Pete Barnes. “I been always +a holdin’ that there ain’t anything so tasty as a +blue ribbin in a gal’s hair.”</p> +<p>“They don’t wear ribbons in their hair any +more,” said Major Fitch. “I believe they all +are using tucking combs nowadays.”</p> +<p>“Well, then, I give in. Our gal must be +stylish, but I’d sure like a blue ribbin in her +hair. Get her a good tuckin’ comb then.”</p> +<p>The ball was to be on Friday. Judith’s mind +was so full of it she found it difficult to attend +to her many self-imposed duties. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_131' name='page_131'></a>131</span></p> +<p>“Actually, Mumsy, I tried to sell anti-kink to +a bald-headed white man. I really believe I +shall have to give up my peddling job until +after the ball is over,” she said.</p> +<p>Mrs. Buck had entered only half-heartedly +into the plan of going to the ball, and had agreed +to go only because Judith had pleaded so earnestly +with her. Her best and only black silk +must be taken out and sunned and aired and +pressed.</p> +<p>“I declare, I’ve had it so long the styles +have caught up with it again,” she exclaimed.</p> +<p>“Well, I wish I could say the same for my +white muslin,” sighed Judith. “I’ve a great +mind to wear it hind part before, to make a +little change in it. Anyhow, I intend to have +just as good a time in it as though it were +white chiffon, embroidered in gold beads. My +white pumps aren’t so bad looking. I’ll take +time to-morrow to shampoo my hair. Do you +know, Mumsy, Cousin Ann Peyton’s wig is +just the color of my hair. Poor old lady! Pity +she can’t lose it!”</p> +<p>It was Thursday night. The day’s work was +over, the last dish from the motormen’s supper +washed and put away and Mrs. Buck and her +daughter were having a quiet chat, seated on the +side porch. It was a pleasant spot, homelike +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_132' name='page_132'></a>132</span> +and comfortable. It was on this porch that the +summer activities of the farm were carried on. +Here they prepared fruit for preserving and +even preserved, as a kerosene stove behind a +screen in the corner gave evidence. Here they +churned, in a yellow cradle churn, and worked +the butter.</p> +<p>“It saves the house if you can do most of +your work in the open,” Mrs. Buck had said.</p> +<p>Judith had stretched a hammock across the +corner of the porch, and now she was allowing +herself to relax for awhile before going to bed. +She pushed herself gently to and fro with one +slender foot on the porch floor, and looked out +dreamily over the fields flooded with moonlight—fields +bought by her grandfather Knight +from her grandfather Buck, inherited by him +from his father, who had inherited from his +father. Each generation had done what it +could to impoverish the land and never to improve +it. Now it was up to her, nothing but a +slip of a girl nineteen years old, to buy guano +and bring the land back to its original value.</p> +<p>“Ho, hum! If Grandfather Buck hadn’t +wasted so much and Grandfather Knight hadn’t +saved so much I could put my earnings in a +new georgette dress to wear to the old men’s +debut ball,” she sighed. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_133' name='page_133'></a>133</span></p> +<p>A few vehicles passed the house—now an +old-fashioned buggy, now a stylish touring car—each +one leaving a trailing cloud of limestone +dust.</p> +<p>“Listen, Judith, I heard the gate click.”</p> +<p>“Nothing but an owl clucking, Mumsy. I +heard it, too, but nobody would be coming to +see us this time of night.”</p> +<p>“It might be some young beaux coming to +see you,” suggested Mrs. Buck. “You’d have +plenty of them if you weren’t so—so—businesslike.”</p> +<p>Judith laughed merrily. “Well, I reckon +they’d come anyhow if they wanted to, but I +must say, Mumsy, I’m kind of snobbish about +your so-called beaux. I might like the boys if +they would only stop being so silly and understand +that I’m a human being with a mind and +soul. I reckon I’ve always been too busy to +play much with the boys around Ryeville. The +old men like me though.”</p> +<p>“That’s not getting anywhere,” complained +Mrs. Buck, who frankly hoped for a husband +for her daughter, although her own matrimonial +venture had not been any too successful.</p> +<p>“That was a knock!” insisted the mother a +moment later. Judith jumped up from the +hammock. “I’ll go outside and see who it is.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_134' name='page_134'></a>134</span></p> +<p>“Indeed you won’t! If it’s callers you’ve +got to receive them in the house. Just light +the lamp in the parlor and then open the door. +I ain’t fit to see anybody so I won’t go in.”</p> +<p>Judith did as her mother directed, lit the lamp +in the parlor and then cautiously opened the +door. Nobody was there, but a large dress box +was leaning against the door and fell into the +hall when the door was opened. The girl picked +it up and carried it into the parlor.</p> +<p>“Mumsy! Come quick! I don’t know what +it is but it isn’t a beau. Never mind your dress, +but just come!”</p> +<p>The string was broken by eager young hands, +although Mrs. Buck begged to be allowed to +pick out the knots. The top of the box was +snatched off, disclosing much white tissue paper +with a folded note pinned in the center.</p> +<p>“It must be flowers,” cried Judith. “I’m +so excited I can’t make up my mind to take off +the wrappings.</p> +<p>“Well, read the note! It’s addressed to you,” +said Mrs. Buck.</p> +<p>“It says: ‘To Miss Judith Buck, from her +old fairy god-fathers.’ Oh, Mumsy, my old +men are sending me some flowers, to wear to the +ball, I guess. I’ll clip the stems to keep them +fresh.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_135' name='page_135'></a>135</span></p> +<p>“Well, why don’t you open ’em up?”</p> +<p>Layer by layer Judith removed the tissue +paper. At last the precious contents of the box +were revealed—a white chiffon dress, delicately +broidered with tiny gold beads, with a twisted +girdle of blue with cloth of gold, a dainty blue +comb set with brilliants. In a separate wrapper +at one end of the box, gold slippers and stockings +were discovered.</p> +<p>“Oh, Mumsy! I’m going to cry,” and Judith +did shed a few tears and sob a few sobs.</p> +<p>“Surely you are not going to accept clothes +from any man, Judith.” Mrs. Buck’s tone was +stern and disapproving.</p> +<p>“Of course not from any one man, but this +is from about ten men—the dear old men who +are giving the ball! I wouldn’t be so mean as +not to accept this gift. What’s more, I’m going +to try the things on this minute. Look! There’s +even a silk slip to wear under it. Whoever +bought this outfit knew how to buy. Mumsy, +Mumsy! The slippers fit. Oh, I’m a real +Cinderella, but the best thing about it is that +the old men must truly love me, the dears.”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_136' name='page_136'></a>136</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XII_JEFF_GIVES_A_PLEDGE' id='CHAPTER_XII_JEFF_GIVES_A_PLEDGE'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> +<h3>Jeff Gives a Pledge</h3> +</div> +<p>Until recently it had been the custom for Miss +Ann Peyton, on every fine afternoon, to have +old Billy drive her forth for an airing. It exercised +the horses and gave Billy a definite occupation, +besides affording some change of scene +for his mistress. This habit of a lifetime had +been abandoned because Miss Ann and Billy +had come to a tacit understanding that the less +the old coach was used the better for all concerned. +Like the hoop skirt, little of the original +creation remained. It had been repaired here +and renewed there through the ages, until the +body was all that the carriage maker would have +acknowledged and that had many patches.</p> +<p>The coach had been a very handsome vehicle +in its day, with heavy silver mountings and +luxurious upholstery. The silver mounting was +Billy’s pride and despair. No fussy housekeeper +ever kept her silver service any brighter than +Billy did the trimmings of the old carriage, but +in late years there never seemed to be room in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_137' name='page_137'></a>137</span> +any carriage house for Miss Ann’s coach and it +took much rubbing to obliterate the stains caused +by continual exposure. Billy often found a new +rent in the cushions, from which the hair stuffing +protruded impertinently. He would poke it +back and take a clumsy stitch only to have it +burst forth in a fresh place.</p> +<p>There had always been a place in the carriage +house at Buck Hill for Cousin Ann’s coach until +the family had gone in largely for automobiles +and then the carriage house had been converted +into a garage, the horse-drawn vehicles in a great +measure discarded and now the ancient coach +must find shelter under a shed, with various +farming implements. Billy felt this to be as +much of an insult as putting his mistress out of +the guest chamber, but he must make the best +of it and never let Miss Ann know. Of course +the coach must be ready to take the princess to +the ball. Wheels must be greased and silver +polished.</p> +<p>“I wisht my mammy done taught me howter +sew,” old Billy muttered, as he awkwardly +punched a long needle in and out of the cushions, +vainly endeavoring to unite the torn edges.</p> +<p>“What’s the matter, Uncle Billy?” asked +Jeff Bucknor, who had just crawled from under +one of the cars, where he had been delightfully +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_138' name='page_138'></a>138</span> +employed in a manner peculiar to some males, +finding out what was wrong with the mysterious +workings of an automobile.</p> +<p>“Nothin’ ’tall, Mr. Jeff! I wa’ jes’ kinder +ruminatin’ to myse’f. I din’t know nobody wa’ +clost enough ter hear me. I wa’ ’lowin’ ter sew +up this here cushion so’s it would las’ ’til me’n +Miss Ann gits time ter have this here ca’ige +reumholzered. We’re thinkin’ a nice sof’ pearl +gray welwit will be purty. What do you think, +Mr. Jeff?”</p> +<p>“I think pearl gray would be lovely and it +would look fine with the handsome silver mountings, +but in the meantime wouldn’t you like me +to give you some tow linen slips that belong to +one of the cars. You could tack them on over +your cushions and it would freshen things up +a lot.”</p> +<p>“Thankee, Marster, thankee! If it wouldn’t +unconwenience you none.” Old Billy’s eyes were +filling with tears. It was seldom in late years +that anyone, white or colored, stopped to give +him kind words or offers of assistance. The +servants declared the old man was too disobliging +himself to deserve help and the white people +seemed to have forgotten him.</p> +<p>Jeff got the freshly laundered linen covers +and then climbed into the old coach and deftly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_139' name='page_139'></a>139</span> +fastened them with brass headed tacks.</p> +<p>“Now I do hope Cousin Ann will like her +summer coverings,” he said.</p> +<p>“She’s sho’ too—an’ we’s moughty ’bleeged +ter you, Marse Jeff. Miss Ann an’ me air jes’ +been talkin’ ’bout how much you favors yo’ +gran’pap, Marse Bob Bucknor as war. I don’t +want ter put no disrespec’ on yo’ gran’mammy, +but if Marse Bob Bucknor had er had his way +Miss Ann would er been her.”</p> +<p>“I believe I have heard that Grandfather was +very much in love with Cousin Ann. Why did +she turn him down?” asked Jeff, trying not to +laugh.</p> +<p>“Well, my Miss Ann had so many beau lovers +she didn’t know which-away ter turn. Her bes’ +beau lover, Marse Bert Mason, got kilt in the +wah an’ Miss Ann got it in her haid she mus’ +grieve jes’ so long fer him. But the truf wa’ +that Miss Ann wouldn’t a had him if he had er +come back. She wa’n’t ready ter step off but +she wa’ ’lowin’ ter have her fling. Then the ol’ +home kotched afire an’ then me’n Miss Ann +didn’t have no sho’ ’nough home an’ we got ter +visitin’ roun’ an’ Marse Bob, yo’ gran’pap, kep +a pleadin’ an’ Miss Ann she kep’ a visitin’, fust +one place then anudder, an’ Marse Bob he got +kinder tired a followin’ aroun’ takin’ our dus’ +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_140' name='page_140'></a>140</span> +an’ befo’ you knowd it he done tramsfered his +infections ter yo’ gran’mammy, an’ a nice lady +she wa’, but can’t none er them hol’ a can’le ter +my Miss Ann, then or now—’cept’n maybe +that purty red-headed gal what goes a whizzin’ +aroun’ the county an’ don’t drap her eyes fer +nobody. ’Thout goin’ back a mite on my Miss +Ann, I will say that that young white gal sho’ +do run Miss Ann a clost second.”</p> +<p>“You mean Miss Judith Buck, Uncle Billy?” +and Jeff’s face flushed. He had been thinking +a great deal about Judith Buck and he was +trying to school himself to stop thinking about +her. Yet it pleased him that the old darkey +should thus mention her.</p> +<p>“Yes sah, Miss Judith Buck.”</p> +<p>“Goodness, Uncle Billy, what is that strange +rumbling and buzzing I hear?” interrupted +Jeff. “Your carriage sounds as though you +had installed a motor in the rear.”</p> +<p>“Lawsamussy, Mr. Jeff, that ain’t nothin’ but +a bumbly bee nes’, what we done pick up somewhere +on our roun’s. Them bees sho’ do give +me trouble an’ it looks like I can’t lose ’em. +’Course I could smoke ’em out but somehow I +hates ter make the po’ things homeless an’ I +reckon they’s got a notion that the hollow place +in the back er this here ca’ige b’longs ter them +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_141' name='page_141'></a>141</span> +an’ the knot hole they done bored is the front +do’. When me’n Miss Ann has ter drive on I +jes’ sticks a cawn cob in the hole an’ the bees +trabels with us. Sometimes their buzzin’ air +kinder comp’ny ter me. I ain’t complainin’ but +times I’m lonesome an’ I wisht I mought er had +a little cabin somewheres an’ mebbe some folks +er my own.”</p> +<p>“Yes, Uncle Billy, I know you must get tired +of not having a real home of your own. Didn’t +you ever marry and haven’t you any kin?”</p> +<p>“No sah, I ain’t never married an’ as fer as +I knows I ain’t got any kin this side er the +grabe. You see, sah, it wa’ this a way. I been +kinder lookin’ arfter Miss Ann sence she wa’ a +gal an’ I always said ter myself, ‘Now when +my mistis marries I’ll go a courtin’ but not +befo’.’ I had kinder took up with Mandy, a +moughty likely gal back there jes’ after the +wa’ and me’n her had been a talkin’ moughty +sof’ befo’ Miss Ann lef’ home that time when +the ol’ place burnt up. It looks like I never +could leave Miss Ann long enuf to go back an’ +finish my confab with Mandy. An’ arter a +while Mandy must er got tired of waitin’ fer me +an’ she took up with a big buck nigger from +Jeff’son County an’ they do say she had goin’ +onter twenty chilluns an’ about fo’ husbands.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_142' name='page_142'></a>142</span></p> +<p>“Uncle Billy, you have certainly been faithful +to Cousin Ann. I don’t see what she would +have done without you.”</p> +<p>“Gawd grant she won’t never have ter, Marse +Jeff! It’ll be a sad day fer this ol’ nigger when +Miss Ann goes but I’m a hopin’ an’ prayin’ +she’ll go befo’ I’m called. If I should die they +would’n be nobody ter fotch an’ carry fer Miss +Ann. She gits erlong moughty fine here at +Buck Hill, but some places I have ter kinder +fend fer us-alls right smart. Miss Ann air that +proudified she don’t never demand but ol’ Billy +he knows an’ he does the demandin’ fer her. +An’ I presses her frocks an’ sometimes I makes +out to laundry fer her in some places whar we +visits an’ the missus don’t see fit ter put Miss +Ann’s siled clothes along with the fambly wash. +An’ I fin’s wil’ strawberries fer her, an’ sometimes +fiel’ mushrooms, an’ sometimes I goes out +in the fall an’ knocks over a patridge an’ I picks +an’ briles it an’ sarves it up fer a little extry +treat fer my lady.”</p> +<p>“She certainly would be lost without you, +Uncle Billy, but I’m going to make you a +promise. If you should be called before my +cousin I do solemnly swear that I’ll see to it +that she has every comfort. The family owes +you that much and I for one will do what I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_143' name='page_143'></a>143</span> +can for Cousin Ann. On the other hand, if +Cousin Ann should go first, I’ll do what I can +to help you.”</p> +<p>“Oh, Marse Bob—I mean Marse Jeff—you +air lif’ a load from a ol’ man’s heart. Yo’ +gran’pap air sho’ come ter life agin in his +prodigy. Nothin’ ain’t gonter make much diffunce +ter me arfter this. I been a thinkin’ +some er my burdins wa’ mo’ than I kin bear, +but ’tain’t so. My back air done fitted ter +them, kase you done eased me er my load.” +The old man wept, great tears running down +his furrowed brown cheeks and glistening on +his long, grotesque beard.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_144' name='page_144'></a>144</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XIII_THE_DEBUT_PARTY' id='CHAPTER_XIII_THE_DEBUT_PARTY'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2> +<h3>The Debut Party</h3> +</div> +<p>Everything was propitious for the debut +party, even the weather. A brisk shower in the +morning, followed by refreshing breezes, gave +assurance of a night not too hot for dancing +but not too cool for couples so inclined to sit +out on the balcony and enjoy the moonlight.</p> +<p>The ten old men were very much excited +as the time approached for their ball. The +skating rink was swept and garnished and decorated +with bunting and flags, and wreaths of +immortelles rented from the undertaker. Extra +chairs were also furnished by that accommodating +person. The caterer from Louisville +came in a truck, bringing with him stylish negro +waiters and many freezers and hampers. The +musicians arrived on the seven o’clock trolley, +almost filling one car with their great drums +and saxophones and bass fiddles.</p> +<p>The women who were either supported by, +or supported, the ten old men were kept busy +by their aged relatives hunting shirt studs and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_145' name='page_145'></a>145</span> +collar buttons, pressing broadcloth trousers, letting +out waistcoats or taking them up, sewing +on buttons and laundering white ties. The +barber had to call in extra help, because of the +trimming of beards and shaving of chins and +cutting of hair that the party entailed.</p> +<p>Judge Middleton was chosen to make the +speech naming the guest of honor for whom the +debut party was given.</p> +<p>“He’s got the gift of gab,” Pete Barnes +had said, “but I hope he ain’t gonter forget +’twas my idee.”</p> +<p>One of the many virtues that belong to +country people is that they come on time. At +eight o’clock the fiddles were tuning up, the +skating rink lights were on and already Main +Street was crowded with a varied assortment of +vehicles—automobiles, buggies, wagons, surreys, +rockaways and even a large hay wagon +that had brought a merry party of young folks +from Clayton.</p> +<p>Buck Hill arrived, three automobiles strong, +besides Miss Ann Peyton’s coach. Behind them +came Judith Buck and her mother, the little +blue car brave from a recent bath and Judith’s +eyes shining and dancing like will-o-the-wisps.</p> +<p>“Mumsy, listen! They are tuning up! I’m +going to dance every dance if I have to do it +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_146' name='page_146'></a>146</span> +by myself. I don’t know any of the new +dances, but it won’t take me a minute to learn. +It’s the golden slippers that make me feel so +like flying.”</p> +<p>“Now, Judy, don’t take on so. It ain’t +modest to be so sure you’ll be asked to dance. +Besides, you must save your dress and slippers +and not wear them out this first time you wear +them.”</p> +<p>Judith laughed happily. “Oh, Mumsy, what +a spendthrift you are with your breath! I’m +going to dance my dress to a rag. Did you +ever think that Cinderella may have just danced +her dress to rags by twelve o’clock and after +all the fairy godmother had nothing to do with +it? Cinderella danced every dance with the +prince and perhaps he was an awkward prince +and tangled his feet in her train. In fact, I +am sure he was awkward or he would have +caught up with her when she tried to run away, +and she with one shoe off and one shoe on +like ‘Diddle, diddle, dumpling, my son John!’”</p> +<p>“Let me help you out, Mrs. Buck.” It was +Jeff Bucknor, leaning over the little blue car. +He had heard every word of Judith’s foolishness +and seemed to be much pleased with it, +considering he was a learned young lawyer +getting ready to hang out his shingle, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_147' name='page_147'></a>147</span> +supposed to be above fairy stories and nursery +jingles.</p> +<p>Jeff had noticed, as he passed Judith’s home, +that the little blue car was parked in front and +his surmise was that the girl was going to the +ball but had not yet gone. He registered the +determination to hurry his own crowd into the +skating rink and wait and speak to Judith. +This decision had come immediately after his +promising himself that he wasn’t even going +to think any more about the girl, and that if +she happened to be one of the guests at the +debut party he was going to spend the evening +being pleasant to his sisters’ friends and not +even ask her to dance.</p> +<p>Mrs. Buck accepted his offer of assistance +with shy acquiescence. The blue car was not +easy to get out of, as the seat was low and +there was no step, so Jeff must swing the lady +out, lifting her up bodily and jumping her to +the curbing. She came down lightly but flustered.</p> +<p>Unreasoning anger filled Jeff Bucknor’s +heart when he released the blushing Mrs. Buck +to find Tom Harbison had pushed his way in +between the sidewalk and the blue car and was +insisting upon helping Judith to alight.</p> +<p>“Thanks awfully, but I am accustomed to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_148' name='page_148'></a>148</span> +getting out by myself,” she said.</p> +<p>“And I am accustomed to helping beautiful +young ladies out of cars,” said Tom. “You +don’t know what a past master I am in the +art.”</p> +<p>“If there were any beautiful young ladies +around I am sure they would be delighted, but +since there are not any in sight your art will +have to languish for lack of exercise,” flashed +Judith.</p> +<p>Mrs. Buck and her daughter had both covered +their finery with old linen dusters, which +they had planned to discard before entering the +hall. It was a distinct annoyance to Mrs. Buck +that these two handsome young cavaliers should +see them thus enveloped.</p> +<p>“They’ll get the wrong impression of my +girl,” was her thought, and now here was Judith +wasting her time and the precious dancing +hours bantering with a strange young man as +to whether she should be allowed to jump from +her car unassisted or should be helped out in a +ladylike manner.</p> +<p>“Well, Judith, come along one way or the +other,” Mrs. Buck drawled.</p> +<p>“Perhaps Miss Buck would take one of my +hands and one of yours,” suggested Jeff to +Tom. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_149' name='page_149'></a>149</span></p> +<p>“Perhaps the decrepit old lady will,” laughed +Judy, making a flying leap between their outstretched +hands without touching them and +landing lightly on the sidewalk by her mother. +“Thank you both very much,” she said, and +clutching her mother’s arm she hurried into the +lobby of the skating rink and was lost to view +in the crowd of arriving guests.</p> +<p>“Here’s the dressing-room, Mumsy, and we +can leave our awful old dusters in there. +Weren’t you furious at being seen in the horrid +things and that by the best beaux of the ball? +Now, Mumsy, you just stick to me and we’ll +go say howdy to the dear old men and thank +them for my dress and shoes and stockings and +then you can go sit by some of your nice church +members, while I find somebody to dance with +me.”</p> +<p>“But, Judy, surely you are not going to +thank the old men right out before everybody, +and surely you are not going to ask anybody to +dance with you!”</p> +<p>“Of course not, Mumsy! I’m going to use +finesse about both things. You just see how +tactful I am. Oh! Oh! Oh! I’m so excited! +Just look at the streamers and flags and all +the funny funeral wreaths, and only listen to +the music! I’m about sure there are wings +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_150' name='page_150'></a>150</span> +on my golden slippers. Really and truly, +Mumsy, they do not touch the ground when I +walk. I’m simply floating in a kind of nebulous +haze—in fact I believe I am charged with +electricity.”</p> +<p>“Charged with foolishness, you mean!”</p> +<p>“Oh, but Mumsy, look, we are right behind +my cousins from Buck Hill. Let’s don’t go in +too close to them. I’m entirely too happy to +take a snubbing from Mildred Bucknor. +Doesn’t Cousin Ann Peyton look beautiful?”</p> +<p>“You mean the old lady in hoop skirts? +She’s terribly behind the times, ain’t she? But, +Judy, who was the young man who was so bent +on helping you out of the car? You didn’t +pretend to introduce him.”</p> +<p>“Mr. Harbison. I have not met him myself +yet. I believe he is Mildred Bucknor’s special +property.”</p> +<p>The ten old men of the receiving line were +drawn up in battle array, in all the glory of +their best clothes. Pete Barnes was gorgeous +in checked trousers and Prince Albert coat, with +his bushy iron-gray hair well oiled and combed +in what used to be known as a roach, a style +popular in his early manhood. Some of the +veterans were in uniform—the blue or the +gray. All wore white carnations in their +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_151' name='page_151'></a>151</span> +button-holes. The guests shook hands with the hosts +and then moved on. Those who had come +merely to look on sought the chairs ranged +against the wall; others who wanted to dance +were eagerly arranging for partners if they +were men, while the fair sex assumed a supreme +indifference. Colonel Crutcher busied himself +giving out dancing cards and seeing that the +young people were introduced.</p> +<p>The first sensation of the evening was the +entrance of Miss Ann Peyton. With slow +grace and dignity she sailed into the ballroom +and approached the receiving line alone. Mr. +and Mrs. Bucknor had stopped a moment to +speak to some acquaintances and Mildred had +intentionally held back the crowd of young +people comprising the house party from Buck +Hill, whispering that they really need not mix +with the others.</p> +<p>“Of course we must speak to those ridiculous +old men, but after that we can just stay together. +It will be lots more fun.”</p> +<p>“Here comes Miss Ann Peyton!” the whisper +went around the hall.</p> +<p>“Well, if it isn’t Cousin Ann!” Big Josh +Bucknor boomed to his daughters.</p> +<p>“For goodness sake don’t ask her to go home +with us,” begged those ladies. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_152' name='page_152'></a>152</span></p> +<p>Big Josh slapped his leg and laughed aloud. +Everything about Big Josh was loud and +hearty. He was a short, fat man with a big, +red face and a perfectly bald head. The Misses +Bucknor were tall and aristocratic in figure and +bearing. They were constantly being mortified +by their father’s tendency to make a noise +and his unfailing habit of diverging from the +strict truth. But Big Josh was more popular +in the county than his conscientious daughters.</p> +<p>Old Billy had wormed his way into the ballroom +with the pretext of having to carry Miss +Ann’s shawl. Quietly he slipped up the stairs +into the balcony and, hiding behind the festooned +bunting, he peeped down on his beloved +mistress as she stood, a quaint, old-fashioned +figure, making her bow to the receiving line.</p> +<p>“By gad, Miss Ann, you are looking fit,” +said Major Fitch. “We are proud to have +you with us. I hope you will save me a dance. +Yes, yes! We are going to have some reels and +lancers and some good old time quadrilles. If +the young uns don’t like it they can lump it. +Here, Colonel Crutcher, give Miss Ann a +dance card. How about giving me the first +square dance?”</p> +<p>“And put me down for the next,” begged +the Colonel gallantly. “It won’t be the first +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_153' name='page_153'></a>153</span> +quadrille I have stepped with you.”</p> +<p>All down the line Miss Ann was greeted +with kindness and courtesy. Old Billy almost +fell out of the balcony, so great was his joy +when he saw Miss Ann’s card in demand and +realized that his mistress was being sought after. +A flush was on the old lady’s cheeks as she +swept across the ballroom floor and seated herself +in the outer row of chairs, reserved for the +dancers. A little titter arose.</p> +<p>“What a funny-looking old woman!” was +the general verdict.</p> +<p>“By the great jumping jingo, they shan’t +laugh at her!” exclaimed Big Josh. “She’s +kin—hoop skirt and all.”</p> +<p>His daughters held him back a moment: +“Remember! Don’t dare invite her home with +you.”</p> +<p>Big Josh made a wry face but he immediately +went to speak to his aged cousin, looking +threateningly at the crowd who had dared to +giggle at anyone related to him.</p> +<p>“How do you do, Cousin?” he said, pushing +her voluminous skirts aside so that he might +slide into the chair next to her. “Glad to see +you looking so spry. Thought we couldn’t +come to-night because the lane is so bad after +the rain this morning. Dust three feet deep +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_154' name='page_154'></a>154</span> +yesterday and to-day puddles big enough to +drown a pig. I’m gonter get me a flying machine. +Lots cheaper than trying to put that +road in condition. Yes—I’ll get a family +machine for the girls and a light little fly-by-night +for myself. I believe in the latest improvements +in everything.</p> +<p>“Oh, yes, I have flown often. Every time +I go to Louisville a friend takes me up. Not +afraid a bit—love it. Of course I know how +to run the motor—simplest thing in the world. +All you have to remember is not to sneeze while +you are up in the air. Sneezing is sometimes +fatal. It destroys your equilibrium as nothing +else does and you are liable to make a disastrous +nose dive. Running an airplane is much +easier than an automobile. Nerve? Not a bit +of it. I tell you, Cousin Ann, when I get my +flying machine I’ll come get you and ride you +to my place and then you will be spared the +bumps of that devilish lane. Just as soon as +I get it I’ll drop you a line. Of course, old +Billy can bring the carriage and horses up at +his convenience. You are at Buck Hill now, I +understand. I tell you, I’ll ’phone over just +as soon as my airplane comes and you can get +yourself ready for a flight. Be sure to wrap up +warm and put something over your head.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_155' name='page_155'></a>155</span></p> +<p>Miss Ann assured him she would.</p> +<p>“By crickity! Who is that girl speaking to +the old men now? That red-headed girl in the +fairy queen dress? Bless Bob, if it ain’t old +Dick Buck’s granddaughter. I used to give +her a lift into school when she was a kid. I +tell you she’s got some style about her. Looks +more born and bred than any gal here. I don’t +see where she got it from.”</p> +<p>“From the Bucknors!” announced Miss Ann, +firmly.</p> +<p>“Bucknors! Oh, come now, Cousin Ann, you +aren’t going to come that old gag on me. Old +Dick Buck used to boast he was our kin when +he got drunk, but it is absurd. Drunk or sober, +he was no relation of ours.”</p> +<p>“He was your cousin, both drunk and sober. +I’ve heard my grandfather tell—” and Miss +Ann launched into the tale.</p> +<p>“Well, by gad, if she’s of the blood we ought +to recognize her!” declared Big Josh, smiting +his thigh with a resounding smack. “I’ll speak +to the family about it. Little Josh will be here +to-night and Cousin Betty Throckmorton’s +Philip and no doubt many of the clan. I +tell you I wouldn’t mind claiming kin with a +gal like that, especially now that old Dick Buck +is dead.”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_156' name='page_156'></a>156</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XIV_ON_WITH_THE_DANCE' id='CHAPTER_XIV_ON_WITH_THE_DANCE'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2> +<h3>On With the Dance</h3> +</div> +<p>Others besides Big Josh had noticed Judith as +she came forward to speak to her old friends. +Her dress, a shimmer of white and gold, might +have been wished on her by a fairy godmother, +a thing of gossamer and moonbeams.</p> +<p>“Who is it?”</p> +<p>“Who can it be?”</p> +<p>“Nobody but little Judy Buck, you say?”</p> +<p>“Where did she get her clothes?”</p> +<p>“Worked like a nigger and bought ’em! +Why not? She’s the best little worker in town. +Got a bunch of irons in the fire and she surely +ought to get some clothes out of it.”</p> +<p>“But old Dick Buck’s granddaughter’s got +no right to be mixing with county society.”</p> +<p>“The Knights were a good sort and Dick +wasn’t anything but lazy and trifling and sometimes +a little tipsy. There wasn’t anything +mean about old Dick.”</p> +<p>“Well, she’s a humdinger for looks, is all +I’ve got to say.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_157' name='page_157'></a>157</span></p> +<p>So the talk went around. Judith, all unconscious +of having attracted attention, shook hands +gaily with the old men and all but kissed them +in her joy, and promised to dance with every +one of them and immediately had her card filled +with trembly-looking autographs.</p> +<p>“Won’t you dance, Mrs. Buck?” suggested +Colonel Crutcher, but Mrs. Buck declined with +agitated blushes, declaring her health was too +feeble for such carryings-on.</p> +<p>“Well, I’m going to put you in a front seat +so you won’t miss anything and then Miss Judy +can sit by you when she is not dancing. That’s +all right, I’ll get some of your church members +to keep you company.”</p> +<p>Colonel Crutcher conducted mother and +daughter across the ballroom and, much to the +confusion of Mrs. Buck, placed them next to +Miss Ann Peyton. That lady was seated in +solitary grandeur, Big Josh having departed to +look up other members of the family.</p> +<p>“Miss Peyton, this is a little friend of mine +I want to introduce to you, Miss Judith Buck, +and her mother, Mrs. Buck.”</p> +<p>Miss Ann bowed with what might be called +gracious stiffness, and moved her skirts a fraction +of an inch to make room for Judith.</p> +<p>Mrs. Buck was thankful that some church +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_158' name='page_158'></a>158</span> +friends were found by whom she might sit and +be as inconspicuous as possible. She would +have been frightened beyond words if she had +been forced to sit by Miss Ann Peyton. Not so +Judith! The girl looked levelly into the old +woman’s eyes and then sat down.</p> +<p>“I want to thank you for the toilet water +you sent to me by my servant. It was very +kind of you,” said Miss Ann.</p> +<p>“I loved to do it.”</p> +<p>“Why did you?”</p> +<p>“I don’t know. Perhaps because ever since +I was a tiny little girl I have watched you go +driving by on the pike and I’ve always wanted +to give you a present. Sometimes I used to +pick flowers and hide behind the fence, thinking +maybe I could stop your carriage and give them +to you, but I was too shy, and old Billy always +looked so fierce—as though he were taking the +Queen to Windsor. But I used to make up +stories about you and your coach and now I +am too big and old to make up silly stories and +no longer shy and hiding behind hedges, but I +kind of felt that the toilet water might be the +essence of the flowers I used to pick for you +when I was a little girl—the ones you never +got.”</p> +<p>“Ah, indeed!” was all Miss Ann said, but +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_159' name='page_159'></a>159</span> +she sought the girl’s hand and held it a moment +in the folds of her billowing lace dress.</p> +<p>Then the music started and the ball had begun +and Major Fitch was bowing low in front of +Miss Ann, claiming the first quadrille, and +Colonel Crutcher was holding out his hands for +Judith.</p> +<p>“Dance in the set with me,” Miss Ann whispered +to Judith, as though they were girls together.</p> +<p>Of course nobody dances quadrilles in these +jazz days, but the old men had stipulated that +the band from Louisville must know how to +play for quadrille and lancers and dusty old +music had been unearthed and now the ball was +opened with an old-fashioned quadrille, with +Pete Barnes calling the figures with the gusto +of one practiced in the art.</p> +<p>“Swing your partner! Balance all! Swing +the corners! Ladies change! Sashay all! First +couple to the right, bow and swing! Second +couple to the right—do the same thing! Bow +and swing! Bow and swing! Third couple to +the right—do the same thing! Bow and +swing! Bow and swing! Right and left all +around—bow to your partner! Promenade +all!”</p> +<p>Miss Ann and her partner glided and dipped +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_160' name='page_160'></a>160</span> +and bowed, Miss Ann tripping and mincing and +Major Fitch pointing his toes and crooking his +elbows with much elegance and occasionally taking +fancy steps to the edification of all beholders.</p> +<p>Judith gave herself up to the dance with +abandon. The music took possession of her and +she swayed and rocked to its beat and cut pigeon +wings with Colonel Crutcher, much to the delight +of that veteran. She smiled at Miss Ann +and Miss Ann smiled at her as Pete Barnes +called, “Ladies change.” They squeezed hands +as they passed and Judith whispered, “Isn’t +it lovely?” and Miss Ann murmured, +“Lovely!”</p> +<p>There was no doubt about it that the set in +which Miss Ann and Judith was dancing was +the popular one. The spectators moved to that +end of the hall and when the dancers indulged +in any particularly graceful steps they were applauded. +Old Billy crept from the balcony and +hid himself behind a palm, where he could look +out on his beloved mistress and declare to himself +over and over, “She am the pick er the +bunch.”</p> +<p>Jeff Bucknor, although he had resolved to +give the evening up to making his sisters’ +friends enjoy themselves, found himself taken +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_161' name='page_161'></a>161</span> +up with watching Judith Buck. He had fully +intended to ask Jean Roland to dance the first +dance with him, but had seen her led forth by +the fat boy without once offering a rescuing +hand. While the quadrille was being danced he +stood by a window and looked on. As soon as +the quadrille was over he hurried to Judith’s +side.</p> +<p>“Please let me have the next dance, Miss +Buck.”</p> +<p>“I believe I have an engagement,” panted +Judith, looking at her card. “Yes, it’s a waltz +and dear old Mr. Pete Barnes has put his name +down. See!” She held it up for Jeff’s inspection. +Pete had written, “Set this dance out +with your true admirer, Pete Barnes.”</p> +<p>“Nonsense,” cried Jeff. “You mustn’t sit +out dances with old men when young men are +dy—want to dance with you.”</p> +<p>“Mustn’t I though? Not when old men have +been good to me beyond belief? These are my +old men and I wouldn’t break an engagement +with one of them for a pretty. Mr. Pete Barnes +had a sabre cut once that made him a little lame +and he can’t dance, so I promised to sit out +the waltz with him,” explained Judith.</p> +<p>“All right, then the next dance on your +card!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_162' name='page_162'></a>162</span></p> +<p>“That is with Major Fitch and the next with +Judge Middleton—that’s the Lancers—then +the Virgina Reel with old Captain Crump. I’m +very sorry, but I believe I am booked up until +the intermission, which I hope means supper.”</p> +<p>“You can’t mean you are going to give up +the whole evening to those old fellows. Miss +Buck, Judith! Yes, I have a perfect right to +call you Judith. You are my cousin. I—I—just +found it out the other day. In fact, I am +your nearest male relative,” Jeff said whimsically, +“and as such I forbid you to spend +the whole evening wasting your sweetness on the +old men. They may be very fine old chaps, +but—”</p> +<p>“May be! But! There is no maybe and no +but about it. They are the loveliest old men +in the world. You got to be a cousin too suddenly, +Mr. Bucknor. Kinship is something +deeper than a sudden flare. The old men are +my fairy godfathers and that is closer than +forty-eleventh cousins. Why, they even gave +me my lovely dress so I could come to the +ball. No, Mr. Barnes, I haven’t forgotten,” +she said, tucking her hand in the old man’s arm +as he came up to claim her promise. She looked +over her shoulder and laughed at Jeff Bucknor. +“Good-bye, Cousin!” she called. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_163' name='page_163'></a>163</span></p> +<p>Jeff moodily sought refuge behind Cousin +Ann’s draperies. He knew he was behaving +rudely, not to dance with the girls of the house +party. He was sure Mildred and Nan would +berate him, but he felt as though there were +weights on his feet. Miss Ann graciously +made room for him.</p> +<p>“A very charming ball, Cousin,” she said.</p> +<p>“Yes!”</p> +<p>“Why are you not dancing?”</p> +<p>“Nobody to dance with—unless you will +favor me,” he added gallantly.</p> +<p>“No, my dear cousin, I have danced once to-night +and I am afraid I had better not venture +again. I am very fatigued from the unwonted +exertion.” Indeed, the old lady did look tired, +although very happy and contented. “Why do +you not endeavor to engage my charming vis-a-vis? +I see she is not dancing either.”</p> +<p>“Humph! She has given me to understand +she preferred talking to old Pete Barnes to +dancing with me. She’s a strange girl, Cousin +Ann, and I can’t make her out.”</p> +<p>At least Jeff had the satisfaction of seeing +Judith refuse to dance with Tom Harbison. +That young man had crossed the floor with +his accustomed assurance, had bowed low in +front of Judith and begged her to favor him, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_164' name='page_164'></a>164</span> +even taking her by the hand and endeavoring +to draw her from her chair, but she had refused +him in short order.</p> +<p>Judith danced and danced with the old men. +Whatever the step they decided to take the +girl followed. She was a born dancer and, after +a few paces, could adapt herself to any partner. +There were other young men besides Jeff +and Tom who sought her hand in the dance, +but she was always engaged to some one of +the ten old men. The only chance for the young +ones was for the old ones to fall by the wayside, +which they did occasionally when their old +legs refused to carry them farther.</p> +<p>“I’d break in on them if they weren’t so old,” +declared one young farmer.</p> +<p>“It wouldn’t do a bit of good,” said a young +doctor. “I tried and she turned me down—said +she had promised the old duffer the whole +dance.”</p> +<p>So it happened that Judith’s time was fully +taken up by her fairy godfathers until the +supper-time intermission.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_165' name='page_165'></a>165</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XV_CINDERELLA_REVEALED' id='CHAPTER_XV_CINDERELLA_REVEALED'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2> +<h3>Cinderella Revealed</h3> +</div> +<p>The rattle of china and silver had begun in +a room beyond the dancing hall and an aroma +of coffee and a suggestion of savory food was +in the air. Dancers and spectators sniffed in +anticipation. The music stopped. Judge Middleton +walked towards the end of the hall. He +had Judith Buck by his side, her hand resting +lightly on his arm. She was chatting gaily, but +the Judge looked rather serious.</p> +<p>When the couple reached a spot near the +bass drum, the Judge stopped and, borrowing +the stick from the musician, he rapped sharply +on the side of the drum.</p> +<p>“He’s going to make a speech!”</p> +<p>“Be quiet!”</p> +<p>“Judge Middleton is going to talk!”</p> +<p>The other nine old men called for order. +Another sharp rap on the drum and all was +still.</p> +<p>“Friends,” the Judge said, “I have something +to say to you.” One could have heard +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_166' name='page_166'></a>166</span> +a pin drop. “Of course all of us old men know +that you have had a very good time, laughing at +us because we sent out invitations calling this a +debut party. We are pleased to have given so +many of our friends a good laugh. We did it +on purpose, because we have all of us lived a +long time and we know how popular it makes +you to furnish a good laugh. We are proud +and happy that so many persons have seen fit +to come to our party and we hope you are having +a pleasant time to repay you for your +trouble.”</p> +<p>“Hear! Hear!”</p> +<p>“The best this year!”</p> +<p>“Do it again!”</p> +<p>“I wonder if any of you noticed that our +invitation did not say to whom we were giving +this debut party? We left that out on purpose, +because we were afraid it might scare off the +person whom we are delighted to honor. Up +to this moment the dear child whose debut party +this is has been entirely ignorant that it is +hers.”</p> +<p>Judith, who had been standing by her old +friend, utterly unconscious of self, wholly absorbed +in his speech, now looked at him with an +expression of startled amazement. She gave +a little gasp and blushed violently. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_167' name='page_167'></a>167</span></p> +<p>“Friends of Ryeville and our county, we, the +old men of the neighborhood, wish to tell you +that this debut ball is in honor of our fairy +godchild, Miss Judith Buck.”</p> +<p>A ripple of applause ran around the room.</p> +<p>“We know that we are not doing the conventional +thing in the conventional way,” the +Judge continued, “but we wanted to do something +different for a girl who is different. Only +a few days ago we were sitting, talking, discussing +matters and things, when the thought came +to us that we should like to do something for a +girl who has never been too busy to stop and +have a pleasant word with us old men. It was +my friend, Pete Barnes, who thought of this +way.”</p> +<p>“Yes, my idee, my idee!” cried Pete.</p> +<p>“I am sure a great many of you already +know our young friend. You have seen her +grow from childhood to young womanhood—watched +her trudging in to school in all weathers, +determined to get an education at any cost—noted +her record at school, always at the top or +near the top. Perhaps others in Ryeville besides +the old men have been cheered by her +happy face and ready wit and sympathy.”</p> +<p>“Hear! Hear!”</p> +<p>“And now we old men wish to present formally +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_168' name='page_168'></a>168</span> +to society Miss Judith Buck. If you have +any criticism to make of our method, please +blame us and not our guest of honor. This is a +surprise party for her.”</p> +<p>“Well, I call that right down pretty,” said +Big Josh to his Cousin Bob. “I have been wanting +all evening to get in a word with some of +the crowd concerning this young lady, but it +looks like it’s hard to get away from the women +folk long enough to talk sense.”</p> +<p>“I believe I know what you mean,” said Mr. +Bucknor uneasily. “It won’t do, Josh, it won’t +do.”</p> +<p>“The dickens it won’t do, if we decide to +claim her!”</p> +<p>“But the ladies, Josh, the ladies! I fancy +Cousin Ann has told you what she told me. The +tale got my madam and the girls up in arms +and I can’t cope with the whole biling of them. +I’d say no more about it if I were you. Of +course we must go up and shake hands with the +girl, and do the polite, but the least said the +soonest mended—about her being related to us. +You know well enough if the women folk are +opposed it would be harder on the girl than just +letting the matter drop right where it is.”</p> +<p>“Well, I reckon I can control the ladies in my +family,” blustered Big Josh. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_169' name='page_169'></a>169</span></p> +<p>“Ahem!” said Mr. Bob Bucknor, with a significant +glance at his cousin, “I must confess that +I can’t always do so. I find that entertaining +Cousin Ann Peyton, for months at a time, is +about all I can do in the way of coercion where +the ladies of my family are concerned.”</p> +<p>“I’m going to relieve you of that burden, +Bob,” declared Big Josh. “I fully realize you +have had more than your share lately, but the +truth of the matter is my lane is in mighty bad +shape here lately. I have just been talking to +Cousin Ann about coming to us for a spell. In +fact, I’ve been telling her I’d come and fetch +her before so very long.”</p> +<p>Judith stood demurely between Judge Middleton +and Major Fitch and made her bow to Ryeville +society. They had asked Mrs. Buck to +stand by her daughter, but that lady begged to +be excused.</p> +<p>“I’m just a private person,” she said, “and it +would flustrate me so I’d be sure to have one of +my attacks.”</p> +<p>Everybody went up and shook hands with the +guest of honor—even Mildred Bucknor, although +she did not enjoy it at all.</p> +<p>“It is the silliest thing I ever saw in my life,” +she declared. “As though that Judith Buck +wasn’t forward enough as it is, without those +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_170' name='page_170'></a>170</span> +ridiculous old men forcing her on people this +way. If we had known the party was given +to her, we never should have come, but now +that we are here we naturally must behave as +gentle folk and be decent.”</p> +<p>“Of course,” echoed Nan. “We couldn’t +leave just as supper is announced either. That +would be impolite.”</p> +<p>“Very!” said the fat boy.</p> +<p>The knowledge that the debut party was +given to little Judith Buck in no way served to +throw a damper on the festivities. On the contrary, +the gaiety of the guests increased. Supper +was a decided success and the stylish waiters +from Louisville saw to it that everyone was +served bountifully. Old Billy crept from behind +the decorations and insisted upon waiting +on his mistress.</p> +<p>“She am the queen er the ball,” he said arrogantly +to the young darkey who objected to +giving up his tray to the old man.</p> +<p>“You mean the young lady who’s havin’ her +comin’ out?”</p> +<p>“No, I don’t mean her, but my Miss Ann, +who air a settin’ over yonder all kivered with +di’ments.”</p> +<p>Miss Ann was weary and tremulous. She +had been strangely moved by Judge Middleton’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_171' name='page_171'></a>171</span> +speech. Why, she did not know exactly, +but all evening she had been putting herself in +Judith’s place, wondering what life would have +held for her if at the turning point she had +shown the character and spunk of this young +girl. She had gone with the rest to shake hands +with the girl after Judge Middleton’s speech. +She longed to declare their relationship, but was +afraid to until the family accepted Judith. So +Miss Ann merely took Judith’s hand in hers +and pressed it gently. All she said was, “I +am so happy to have met you.”</p> +<p>“Oh, thank you, Miss Peyton. I am indeed +glad to know you.” Judith had almost called +her cousin. She devoutly hoped nobody had +noticed it, but there was no time for repinings +because one was stand-offish. Too many persons +must be introduced to the debutante. Even +had Mildred Bucknor been inclined to chat with +her former schoolmate she would not have been +allowed to do it. There were others who pressed +forward to greet the fairy godchild of the old +men of Ryeville.</p> +<p>The general attitude of the assembly was good +natured and congratulatory. The aristocratic +contingent was inclined to be a little formal, +but polite and not unkindly. The aristocrats +were more or less related to one another, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_172' name='page_172'></a>172</span> +most of them were connected, closely or distantly, +with the Bucknors. Their formality in +greeting Judith might easily have been accounted +for by the fact that Big Josh Bucknor +had kept the ball rolling in regard to old Dick +Buck’s kinship with the family. From the +moment Miss Ann Peyton had made the statement +that the Bucks and Bucknors were originally +the same people, Big Josh had been +spreading the news. All of them had heard it +before, but nobody had ever given serious +thought to it. To be related to slovenly, lazy, +dissipated old Dick Buck was out of the question. +The possibility of such a connection was +laughably preposterous. It was quite a different +matter, however, to contemplate receiving +into the charmed circle a beautiful young girl +who was everything her unworthy old grandparent +had not been.</p> +<p>“But we must go slowly,” Little Josh Bucknor +had said, when approached by his cousin, +Big Josh. “It’s a great deal easier to get relations +than it is to get rid of them. Ahem—Cousin +Ann, for instance! Cousin Ann is so +distantly related to us that one cannot trace +the kinship, but we got started wrong with her +in old days and now you would think she was +as close as a mother or something. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_173' name='page_173'></a>173</span></p> +<p>“I’m mighty bothered about Cousin Ann, Big +Josh. The fact of the matter is, my wife won’t +stand for her. I can’t even make her go up and +speak to the old lady. She’s been talking to +Cousin Betty Throckmorton and they’ve been +hatching up a scheme to freeze out Cousin Ann +and fix it so she’ll have to go to an old ladies’ +home. Cousin Mildred Bucknor is in on it, too, +and from the way they’ve had their heads together +all evening I believe your daughters are +in the plot.”</p> +<p>“The minxes! I don’t doubt it. Poor Cousin +Ann! She’s never done anybody any harm in +her life,” and Big Josh’s round, moon-like face +expressed as much sorrow as it was capable of.</p> +<p>“No—never any harm—but I reckon +Cousin Ann hasn’t done much good in her time. +When you come right down to it, chronic visiting +is a poor way to spend your time, unless +you are a powerful good visitor, which Cousin +Ann isn’t. She got started wrong and never +has got put on the right road. I don’t see what +we are going to do about it. Bob Bucknor is +having more than his share, but I can’t do a +thing with my wife. You see, she made her +own living before she married me and she’s got +no use for what she calls the unproductive consumer. +She says that’s what Cousin Ann is. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_174' name='page_174'></a>174</span> +Mrs. Bob is getting worn out with it, too, because +her girls are grown now and they are +kicking at having the poor old lady come down +on them on all occasions. It looks as though +we’d have to call a meeting of the family and +thresh the thing out.”</p> +<p>Little Josh, who had acquired the diminutive +title merely because he had been born two years +later than his cousin, Big Josh, showed despondency +in every line of his six-feet-two.</p> +<p>“The women will all be banded against her +and want to send her to a home, but we can’t +stand for that,” said Big Josh. “The women’ll +have to get it into their heads that they can’t +boss the whole shooting match. Well, come on +and let’s speak to our little cousin. Oh, you +needn’t worry. I’m going to be as careful as +possible and never say a word I shouldn’t. I +can’t take her into the family unless all the +others do. When we have the family meeting +about Cousin Ann we might bring up this business +of Miss Judith Buck at the same time.”</p> +<p>“Good idea! Good idea!” agreed Little +Josh.</p> +<p>What Big Josh said to Judith was, “And +how do you do, Miss Buck? Remember you? +Of course I remember you, but do you remember +me?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_175' name='page_175'></a>175</span></p> +<p>“And how could I forget you when you +have given me many a lift on the road? You +never passed me by without picking me up.” +Judith’s manner was so frank and sweet and +she smiled so brightly at Big Josh, returning +his vigorous handshake with a strong, unaffected +clasp, that the good-natured fellow was won +over completely.</p> +<p>“Well, well! We’ve pretty near got the +same name,” he cried heartily. “You are Buck +and I am Bucknor. I wouldn’t be astonished +if we had been the same in the beginning. +Either your folks knocked the <i>nor</i> off or my +folks stuck it on. Ha! Ha! We may be related +for all we know.”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_176' name='page_176'></a>176</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XVI_THE_MORNING_AFTER' id='CHAPTER_XVI_THE_MORNING_AFTER'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2> +<h3>The Morning After</h3> +</div> +<p>“All over and paid for!” yawned Colonel +Crutcher the morning after the debut party. +“I tell you I couldn’t do it every night.”</p> +<p>“Neither could I—nor every week, nor every +month, nor even every year,” agreed Major +Fitch. “But I tell you, Crutcher, it was worth +it, I mean digging in our jeans for the money +and getting so tired out and feeling our age +and everything. It was worth it all, just to +see our girl’s eyes shining and to prove what +she is made of. I tell you she stood up there +and received with as much dignity as Queen +Victoria herself.”</p> +<p>The old men were gathered together on the +Rye House porch, chairs tilted back and feet +on railing as usual.</p> +<p>“I tell you, she’s a thoroughbred, all right,” +declared Pete Barnes. “Why, that gal turned +down two of the best-looking beaux at the hop—Jeff +Bucknor and that young Harbison—just +to sit down an’ talk with me, old Pete +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_177' name='page_177'></a>177</span> +Barnes. Jeff Bucknor was sore, too. He up +an’ claimed kin with her an’ she just gave him +the merry ha ha.”</p> +<p>“Well, my j’ints are mighty stiff, but I’m +proud to have trod a measure with Miss Judith +Buck,” said Colonel Crutcher.</p> +<p>“It was worth a lot to see Miss Ann Peyton +again, too,” said Judge Middleton. “I heard a +good deal of talk on the side about Miss Ann +last night. It seems that the family is getting +together on the subject. The women folks are +reading the riot act and simply refusing to +have the old lady visit them any more. Big +Josh was shooting off his lip pretty lively because +the women of the family want to send her +to an old ladies’ home. I say poor Miss Ann, +but at the same time I can see the other side.”</p> +<p>Others beside the old men were aweary after +the ball. Miss Ann spent a sleepless night and +could not drag herself from her bed in time +for breakfast. When old Billy came to her +room with a can of hot water for her morning +ablutions, he found his mistress limp and forlorn.</p> +<p>“Jes’ you lay still, my pretty, an’ ol’ Billy +will bring you up some breakfus’. You had so +many beaux las’ night, hoverin’ roun’ you like +bees ’roun’ a honey pot, no wonder you air +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_178' name='page_178'></a>178</span> +tuckered out this mornin’. I reckon you couldn’t +sleep with yo’ haid so full er music an’ carryin’s +on.”</p> +<p>“I didn’t sleep very well, Billy, because I am +worrying. I am thinking perhaps we had better +move on.”</p> +<p>“Don’t say it, Miss Ann, don’t say it! Buck +Hill air sho’ the gyardin spot er all our visitations. +What put you in min’ er movin’ on?”</p> +<p>“I overheard, without meaning to in the +least, but they spoke quite loudly—I overheard +Cousin Milly talking on the subject with some +of the others at the ball and I am afraid we +are not welcome here.”</p> +<p>“Why, Miss Ann, ’twas only yistiddy that +young Marse Jeff Bucknor up an’ made me a +solemn promise that you wouldn’t never want +fer nothin’ so long as he mought live an’ be +able ter do fer you.”</p> +<p>“That’s very sweet of him, Billy, but this +isn’t his home alone. His mother is the mistress +here. I think we might go visit Mr. Big Josh +Bucknor for a while. He was very cordial and +even said he would come for me in a flying machine +because of the bad road leading into his +place. What do you think of that, Billy? He +said you could follow after with the carriage and +horses.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_179' name='page_179'></a>179</span></p> +<p>“Well, Miss Ann, I think Marse Big Josh +air as good as gol’ an’ as kind as custard, but +I can’t help a feelin’ that he don’t mean ev’y-thing +he says. Not that he ain’t a thinkin’ at +the time that he will do what he promises, but +ev’ybody knows you have ter take what Marse +Big Josh says with a dose of salts. I don’t +mean he wouldn’t be proud an’ glad ter have +us-alls come an’ visit him, but I mean he ain’t +liable ter be a flyin’ any time soon er late in this +here world er yet the world ter come. He ain’t +ter say sanctified.”</p> +<p>“Well, we’ll stay on here a while longer +then, Billy, but far be it from me to have it +said we had worn out our welcome.”</p> +<p>“Now, Miss Ann, that there ain’t possible +here at Buck Hill. The house pawty air a +breakin’ up this day an’ mo’n likely the gues’ +chamber will be returned to its rightful habitant. +You mus’ a hearn wrong ’bout Miss Milly not +wantin’ you. Miss Milly’s all time stoppin’ +an’ tellin’ me how proud she air ter have you +here under her roof an’ how glad she air ter +have sech a zample as you fer her gals ter foller +in the footsteps er ’portment an’ ’havior. An’ +Marse Bob air continuously singin’ yo’ praises. +I hearn him tellin’ Mr. Philip Throckmorton +las’ night that you were a gues’ it wa’ his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_180' name='page_180'></a>180</span> +delight ter honor. An’ Mr. Philip Throckmorton +said as how as soon as he had a home er his +own you would be the fust pusson ter occupew +his gues’ chamber. An’ then Mr. Little Josh he +said how noble an’ ’stinguished you were an’ +s’perior. I tell you, Miss Ann, these here folks +air all proud er bein’ yo’ kin. They’s all quarrelin’ +’bout whar you air gonter visit nex’.”</p> +<p>Thus the old man soothed her troubled spirit +and lulled it into a semblance of repose. At any +rate it was easier to pretend that she believed +him. At least it made him happy, and in pretending +she almost persuaded herself that her +kinsmen were glad and anxious to have her. She +drank the coffee her old servant brought her and +settled herself for a morning of rest, although +the house was buzzing with the breaking up of +the house party.</p> +<p>The young people, too, were feeling the effect +of last night’s dissipation. The ball was not +over at twelve o’clock, as the invitations had intimated +it would be, but had gone on into the +wee small hours of morning. It was not often +that Ryeville had the chance to trip the light +fantastic toe to the music of a Louisville band +and the eager dancers had begged for more and +more. The old people had dropped out, one by +one, but the youngsters danced on and on. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_181' name='page_181'></a>181</span></p> +<p>Then it was that Judith had come into her +own as it were, and all of the young men who +had been denied before supper seemed determined +to make up for lost time. The most persistent +of the clamoring swains were Jeff Bucknor +and Tom Harbison. This popularity of a +person who had always rubbed her the wrong +way was wormwood to Mildred Bucknor, and +for her brother and Tom Harbison to be rivals +for Judith’s favor added gall to the wormwood. +Not that Mildred was not having a very good +time herself. Indeed, she was always something +of a belle and never lacked for partners, but she +had other plans for her brother on the one hand +and on the other Tom Harbison had paid her +enough attention for her to consider him in a +measure her property. She had even announced +to several of her friends, in the strictest confidence, +that she was engaged to him—or “as +good as engaged.”</p> +<p>The ball of the night before was under discussion +at the breakfast table. It was pronounced, +on the whole, to have been a very good +ball and a fitting climax to the house party.</p> +<p>“Of course it is perfectly absurd for the old +men to think they can put that Buck girl into +society by merely giving her a debut party,” +said Mildred. “It takes something besides good +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_182' name='page_182'></a>182</span> +clothes and an introduction to place people.”</p> +<p>“How about beauty and intelligence and +character?” asked Jeff.</p> +<p>“Well, tastes differ as to beauty, and if she +had any sense she would know enough not to +try to push herself where she isn’t wanted. I +don’t think it is indicative of a very good character +to accept clothes from a man. I heard, on +very good authority, that a man gave her her +dress. He paid a pretty penny for it, too, I am +sure. Nan and I looked at some gowns like +hers when we were in Louisville and they were +too steep for us, I can tell you.”</p> +<p>“I know about the dress. She told me,” said +Jeff.</p> +<p>“Ah, things have progressed pretty far with +you,” sneered his sister. “Perhaps she was letting +you know she was by way of receiving gifts +of such a character from her admirers.”</p> +<p>Jeff couldn’t trust himself to speak calmly in +rebuttal of Mildred’s accusations and so he left +the room. One thing he had determined, and +that was to cut his time of recreation short and +knuckle down to the practice of law immediately. +A spirit of antagonism was developing between +brother and sister that greatly distressed Jeff. +He had no doubt that he was somewhat to +blame, but at the same time Mildred was spoiled +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_183' name='page_183'></a>183</span> +and petulant and overbearing. He doubted her +kindness of heart, too, since he had witnessed +her cruelty in regard to Cousin Ann Peyton and +Judith Buck. He also decided to try a hazard +of new fortunes in Louisville rather than Ryeville +as his family had planned.</p> +<p>Jeff was glad that the house party was breaking +up. Perhaps now Buck Hill would settle +down into peace and quiet and he would have +a chance to discuss his affairs with his father +and mother. He was glad that he would no +longer be called upon to do the impossible—to +fall in love with the dark beauty, Jean Roland, +when for days and nights, in his mind’s eye, was +ever the picture of a fair girl with a halo of +red-gold hair. He was glad, too, that the +obnoxious Tom Harbison would be leaving. It +was only lately that he had felt Tom to be +obnoxious. If Harbison was in love with Mildred, +as he had been led to believe was the case, +what right had he to be so persistent in his +attentions to Judith? Well, at any rate he was +leaving the county and would have no more +chance to hover around the girl. Any hovering +that was done Jeff was determined to do himself.</p> +<p>“I have seen this girl but four times in +all, unless I can count those times when she was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_184' name='page_184'></a>184</span> +a little, barefooted kid selling blackberries and +I was such a fool I couldn’t understand what +she was to grow to be, and still I’m as sure as +I shall ever be of anything in my life that she +is the only girl for me.” Thus he mused after +he had left the room rather than listen to his +sister’s gossip. He was standing on the porch, +looking through the trees at the garden beyond, +and thinking what an appropriate background +it would be for Judith’s rare beauty. How he +would like to lead her through the box maze +and then sit beside her on the marble bench +under the syringa bushes! If he could prevail +upon the independent girl to listen to him, +would his family receive her? Would it not be +best for all concerned if he could forget Judith? +Anyhow, he would not try to see her again, and +he would soon be settled in Louisville, making +only occasional visits home. Life looked dreary +to Jeff.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_185' name='page_185'></a>185</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XVII_UNCLE_BILLY_MAKES_A_CALL' id='CHAPTER_XVII_UNCLE_BILLY_MAKES_A_CALL'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2> +<h3>Uncle Billy Makes a Call</h3> +</div> +<p>Judith and her mother were also the victims +of the morning after. Mrs. Buck was pale and +listless, complaining of shortness of breath, +while Judith felt it impossible to accomplish the +many duties she had planned for Saturday +forenoon.</p> +<p>“The truth of the matter is I can’t stop +dancing. If I only had some quick music I +could work to it. I wonder if Cinderella swept +the hearth clean the morning after the ball. +Mumsy, do you think the prince was there last +night?” she asked.</p> +<p>“Prince! What prince?”</p> +<p>“Oh, just any old prince! Prince Charming! +I think—in fact I am sure—I liked my +Cousin Jeff Bucknor better than any of the +men who danced with me.”</p> +<p>“Now, Judith, please don’t start up that +foolishness. Jeff Bucknor may dance with you +because everybody else wanted to, but he would +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_186' name='page_186'></a>186</span> +be very much astonished if he heard you calling +him cousin.”</p> +<p>“Well, he heard me last night, but he started +it. He wanted to boss me, because he said he +was my nearest of kin. I just laughed at him +and called out, ‘Good-bye, Cousin!’ Mr. Big +Josh Bucknor almost claimed kin with me, too. +Wouldn’t it be funny, Mumsy, if all of them +got to doing it? It would be kind of nice to +have some kinfolks who knew they were kin. +I know you think I am conceited, but somehow +I believe the men would be more pleased about +it than the women. Maybe the women are +afraid I’d take to visiting them like poor Cousin +Ann!”</p> +<p>“Humph! Cousin Ann indeed!”</p> +<p>“But, Mumsy, she was real cousinish last +night. There was a look in her eyes that made +me feel that she was almost claiming relationship. +She squeezed my hand in the quadrille, +and when she came up to speak to me after the +darling old men let the cat out of the bag about +its being my debut party she was very near to +kissing me.”</p> +<p>“Well, I don’t hold much to kissing +strangers.”</p> +<p>Mother and daughter were on the side porch, +engaged in various household duties, while this +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_187' name='page_187'></a>187</span> +desultory discussion was going on. Suddenly +there appeared at the corner of the house old +Uncle Billy. In his hand he carried a small +package wrapped in newspaper. He bowed +and bowed, wagging his head like a mechanical +toy.</p> +<p>“You mus’ ’scuse me, ladies, fer a walkin’ +up on you ’thout no warnin’, but I got a little +comin’ out gif fer the young lady, if she don’t +think ol’ Billy air too bold an’ resumtious. It +air jes’ a bit er jewilry what air been, so’s ter +speak, in my fambly fer goin’ on a hun’erd or +so years. Ol’ Mis, the gran’maw er my Miss +Ann—Miss Elizabeth Bucknor as was—gib +it to ter my mammy fer faithfulness in time er +stress. It were when smallpox done laid low +the white folks an’ my mammy nuss ’em though +the trouble when ev’ybody, white and black, wa’ +so scairt they runned off an’ hid.”</p> +<p>“Why, Uncle Billy, I think you are too +lovely to give it to me. But you ought to +keep it.”</p> +<p>“Well, it ain’t ever been much use ter me, +seein’ as I can’t wear a locket, but I reckon +you mought hang it roun’ yo’ putty neck sometime.”</p> +<p>He took off the newspaper wrapping, disclosing +a flat velvet box much rubbed and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_188' name='page_188'></a>188</span> +soiled. Touching a spring the lid flew open, +disclosing a large cameo of rare and intricate +workmanship, with a gold filigree border and +gold back.</p> +<p>“I’d like ter give it ter you, if you won’t be +a thinkin’ it’s free-niggerish of me.”</p> +<p>“Why, I think it is perfectly lovely of you. +It is a beautiful locket—the most beautiful I +ever saw. See, Mumsy, I can put it on my +little gold chain.”</p> +<p>“No doubt!” Mrs. Buck looked distrustfully +at Billy, but the old man held himself so meekly +and his manner was so respectful that her heart +was somewhat softened.</p> +<p>“You sho’ air got a pleasant place here. I +allus been holdin’ th’ain’t no place so peaceful +an’ homelike as a shady side po’ch, with plenty +er scrubbery an’ chickens a scratchin’ under ’em. +I’d be proud to have a po’ch er my own, with +a box er portulac a bloomin’ in front er it an’ +plenty er nice red jewraniums sproutin’ ’roun’ +in ol’ mattersies cans—but, you see, me’n Miss +Ann air allus on the jump—what with all the +invites we gits ter visitate.”</p> +<p>“Let me show you what a nice vegetable +garden I have planted, Uncle Billy, and what +a lovely well we have, with the coldest water in +the county. Maybe you would like a drink of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_189' name='page_189'></a>189</span> +cold water, or perhaps you would like some +fresh buttermilk. I have just churned and the +buttermilk is splendid,” said Judith.</p> +<p>“Thankee, thankee kindly, missy! I’s a +great han’ fo’ buttermilk.” The old man followed +Judith to the dairy and watched with +admiring eyes as she dipped the creamy beverage +from the great stone jar and poured it into +a big glass mug.</p> +<p>“This was Grandfather Buck’s mug. He +liked to drink buttermilk from it, but he always +called it a schooner. That was his house, back +there. He never lived in it after Grandfather +Knight died, so my mother tells me, but we +always have called it his house. It still has his +furniture in it, but nobody stays there.”</p> +<p>“I hearn my Miss Ann a talkin’ bout yo’ +fambly not so long ago. She say the Bucks +an’ Bucknors were one an’ the same in days +gone by but one er yo’ forebears done mislaid +the tail en’ of his name. But Miss Ann say +that don’t make no mind ter her—that you is +of one blood jes’ the same. She even done up +an’ state that you air as clost kin ter her as the +Buck Hill folks air. She air allus been a gret +han’ for geology an’ tracin’ back whar folks +comed from.”</p> +<p>“She—she didn’t tell you to tell me that, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_190' name='page_190'></a>190</span> +did she, Uncle Billy?” Judith looked piercingly +at the old man. He tried to say Miss +Ann knew he was going to tell the girl of their +kinship but her clear gaze confused him.</p> +<p>“Well, well, no’m, she didn’t ’zactly tell me, +but—No’m, she don’t even know I done come +a’ callin’. She jes’ thinks I’m out a exercisin’ +of Puck an’ Coopid. Them’s the names er my +hosses.”</p> +<p>“Perhaps she would not like your telling me +this,” persisted Judith.</p> +<p>“Well, missy, if you ain’t a mindin’ I believe +I’ll arsk you not ter mention what I done +let slip. I ain’t ter say sho’ what the fambly +air gonter do ’bout the matter. I done hear +tell they air gonter hab a meetin’ er the whole +bilin’ an’ decide.”</p> +<p>“Do!” fired Judith. “They will do nothing. +You can tell them for me that I don’t give a +hang whether they want to claim kin with me +or not. They did not have the making of me +and I am what I am regardless of them. I +know perfectly well that I am descended from +the same original Bucknors but I’m glad my +ancestor mislaid part of the name and I +wouldn’t have the last syllable back for anything +in the world.”</p> +<p>“Yassum!” gasped Billy. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_191' name='page_191'></a>191</span></p> +<p>“Uncle Billy, I didn’t mean to be cross with +you,” laughed Judith, her anger gone as quickly +as it had come, “but it does rile me for the +family to think themselves so important and to +feel they can have a meeting and make me kin +to them or not as they please.”</p> +<p>Billy, mounted on Cupid and leading Puck, +rode slowly off. He wagged his great beard +and talked solemnly to himself.</p> +<p>“Well now, you ol’ fool nigger, you done +broke yo’ ’lasses pitcher. Whe’fo’ you so +nimble-come-trimble ter tell little missy ’bout +the fambly confab? ’Cause you done hearn +Marse Big Josh ’sputin’ with Marse Bob +Bucknor at the ball consarnin’ the Bucks an’ +Bucknors ain’t no reason whe’fo’ you gotta be +so bigity. Ain’t yo’ mammy done tell you, time +an’ agin, that ain’t no flies gonter crawl in a +shet mouf? All you had ter do wa’ ter go an’ +give Miss Judy Buck the trinket an’ kinder +git mo’ ’quainted an’, little by little, git her ter +look at things yo’ way. You could er let drop +kinder accidental like that she wa’ kinfolks +’thout bein’ so ’splicit. She done got her back +up now an’ I ain’t a blamin’ her. She sho’ did +put me in min’ er my Miss Ann when she wa’ +a gal, the way she hilt up her haid an’ jawed +back at the fambly. An’ she would er talked +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_192' name='page_192'></a>192</span> +the same way if Marse Big Josh an’ Marse +Little Josh an’ Marse Bob Bucknor theyselves +had ’a’ been there an’ all the women folk besides. +That little gal ain’t feared er nobody. She +done tol’ me ter say she wouldn’t have back +that extry syllabub on her name fer nothin’. I +reckon if I’d tell Marse Jeff that he’d go up in +the air for fair. But this nigger is done talkin’—done +talkin’.”</p> +<p>He rode on, his brown old face furrowed with +trouble. His bowed legs stuck out comically +and the long tails of his blue coat spread themselves +out on Cupid’s broad back.</p> +<p>“An’ that putty little cabin in the back, with +po’ch an’ all, an’ little missy done say it got +furnisher in it too,” he murmured plaintively.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_193' name='page_193'></a>193</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XVIII_A_CAVALIER_OERTHROWN' id='CHAPTER_XVIII_A_CAVALIER_OERTHROWN'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> +<h3>A Cavalier O’erthrown</h3> +</div> +<p>The house party departed and Buck Hill +settled into normalcy. Jeff had tried very hard +to be what Mildred had expected him to be for +the last few days. He had even said tender +nothings to Jean Roland and expressed an eager +desire to see her in Louisville, where she was to +visit before returning to Detroit. So flattering +was his manner that the girl forgave him for +his inattention during her stay at Buck Hill +and was all smiles at the parting.</p> +<p>The guests who did not leave by automobile +took the noon trolley to Louisville. Among the +latter was Tom Harbison. Mildred had rather +hoped he would stay over Sunday at Buck Hill. +He pleaded an engagement, however, but with +melting eyes declared he would soon be back.</p> +<p>Jeff heaved a great sigh of relief when they +were all gone, especially Miss Jean Roland. +What a nuisance black-headed girls were, anyhow! +He began to wonder what Judith was +doing. Was she wearied after the ball? Was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_194' name='page_194'></a>194</span> +she on the road in her little blue car selling +toilet articles? Would she feed the motormen +and conductors, in spite of having been up until +morning? Of course she would! Judith was +not the kind of girl to fail in an undertaking +and to let men go hungry.</p> +<p>“Half past five! She furnishes dinner for +the men on the six-thirty. I wonder what she +is giving them to-day?” Jeff smiled when he +remembered how Judith had satisfied Nan’s +impertinent curiosity concerning what was in +her basket. “I’ve a great mind to find out. +Foolishness! I’ll do nothing of the sort.” The +young man tried to lose himself in the intricate +plot of a detective story but he had to confess +he was not half so much interested in the outcome +of the tale as he was in what Judith was +to carry in her basket.</p> +<p>“I’ll go help her lift the heavy load on the +trolley,” he decided, slinging aside the stupid +book and starting across the meadows to the +trolley station. He must traverse the broad +acres of Buck Hill to the dividing line of +Judith’s mother’s farm, then through a swampy +creek bottom, up a hill to the grove of old beech +trees, and then down to the trolley track.</p> +<p>“Can’t make it! There’s the whistle blowing +for the next station,” he said as he reached the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_195' name='page_195'></a>195</span> +grove. He stopped and, leaning against the +smooth trunk of a great beech, looked out across +the fields. There was Judith in a blue dress, +standing on the little platform, a cooler of buttermilk +in one hand, swinging it as before as a +signal to the approaching trolley. She wore no +hat and her hair shone like spun gold.</p> +<p>“I’ll wait here for her and maybe I can persuade +her to sit down a minute and talk to me.” +Lazily he settled himself on a mossy bank, leaning +against the friendly trunk.</p> +<p>The trolley car stopped. Eager hands were +ready to receive the heavy cooler and laden +basket. Only one passenger—a man—alighted +and then the car sped on. Judith +picked up the basket of empty dishes and milk +can that had been deposited on the platform +and turned to follow the path homeward. Jeff +sprang to his feet, meaning to hasten to her +and relieve her of her burden, when his intention +was changed by seeing the man who had +just alighted from the trolley walk quickly to +her side.</p> +<p>The beech grove was too far off for Jeff to +hear what was said but he could plainly see the +couple, although not discernible to them because +of the dense shade of the beeches. It was a +shock to him to recognize the man as Tom +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_196' name='page_196'></a>196</span> +Harbison. What was he doing back again +when he had told Mildred he had an important +engagement? Was his engagement with Judith +Buck? She had not looked as though she expected +anyone as she stood swinging her cooler. +But then one can never tell. Young men don’t +go gallivanting after girls unless they are encouraged. +On the other hand, what encouragement +had Judith given him, Jeff Bucknor? +None!</p> +<p>However, Tom Harbison certainly had no +right to play fast and loose with his sister, Mildred. +Jeff tried to persuade himself that his +anger against Tom was solely the righteous +anger of a brother.</p> +<p>Judith and her cavalier followed the path that +led directly to the beech grove. Jeff Bucknor +again seated himself on the mossy bank and +watched their approach. He was totally unconscious +of his own invisibility. Again he felt +extreme annoyance with Tom Harbison because +of his protecting manner. Anyone might have +surmised the fields were full of raging bulls, +vicious rams or wild boars, judging from Tom’s +solicitude for Judith’s safety. Tenderly he +assisted the active girl up the hill. Just as they +got within earshot of Jeff, who was endeavoring +to calm himself sufficiently to meet the couple +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_197' name='page_197'></a>197</span> +with some appearance of equanimity, Judith +paused.</p> +<p>“Now, Mr. Harbison, I appreciate very much +your kindness in wishing to help me with this +basket of dishes, which is not at all heavy, but +I think you had much better go directly to your +friends at Buck Hill. That path to the left +will take you through the gap and over the +meadow. I go to the right.”</p> +<p>“Ah, but I am not going to Buck Hill this +evening. I came back to Ryeville only to see +you. I told you, my beauty, that I was going +to. Don’t you remember?”</p> +<p>“I am not your beauty and I do not remember.”</p> +<p>“Well, I did and I have and you are.”</p> +<p>“Maybe you have but I am not. I bid you +good evening, Mr. Harbison. Give me my +basket.”</p> +<p>“No, no! Not so fast! You don’t understand, +my dearest girl. I really have come up +here to see you and a fellow doesn’t take that +beastly ride twice in one day without some reward. +Come on, like the peach that you +resemble, and sit down here in this grove of trees +with me. I tell you, honey, I’m loving you good +and right.”</p> +<p>“Nonsense! You don’t know me and besides +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_198' name='page_198'></a>198</span> +I have no time to sit down as I have two more +trolley cars to meet with hot suppers for the +motormen. Give me my basket! I must hurry +home. I cannot let my customers go hungry.”</p> +<p>“But I am hungry for love,” cried Tom, +seizing the hand Judith had stretched out for +her basket. In the other hand she carried the +empty milk can. Up to this time the girl had +been half laughing. She was evidently amused +by the gallantries of Tom and had met his advances +with badinage, thinking he was in jest. +However, when he grasped her hand and +attempted to draw her towards him, she grew +angry.</p> +<p>“Let me go, Mr. Harbison. You are forgetting +yourself.”</p> +<p>“I am not forgetting myself. I am just remembering +myself. Here I have been in the +same neighborhood with you for days and +never once have I had so much as a kiss. +Please! Please!” He caught the resisting +Judith to him.</p> +<p>Tom was making a fool of himself and no +doubt he would have realized it had he known +that another man was hearing his pleading. +Jeff on the other hand was so conscious of +himself that he had not realized, until Harbison +plunged into the frantic love-making, that the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_199' name='page_199'></a>199</span> +couple were not aware of his presence. Under +the circumstances, what should he do? He certainly +could not beat up a man for asking a +beautiful girl to sit down in the shade of a +beech tree with him, especially since he had +meant to do that very thing himself had not +Tom got there ahead of him. Should he make +his presence known? Did Judith need his help?</p> +<p>The scene progressed so rapidly that before +Jeff could make up his mind exactly what he +should do Judith raised her empty milk can and +gave the persistent Tom such a whack on the +side of his head that the cavalier dropped the +basket of china and, losing his balance, fell and +rolled down the hill.</p> +<p>Evidently Judith did not need anyone’s help. +Tom picked himself up ruefully. Without a +word he retraced the path he had so blithely +taken a moment before and, hearing the outgoing +trolley whistling for the station, he +speeded up and boarded the car for Louisville.</p> +<p>Then Judith proceeded to sit down by her +basket of broken china and burst into tears.</p> +<p>“Oh, my dear, my dear!” cried Jeff, no +longer uncertain of what he should do. “Don’t! +Please don’t! I wish I had wrung his neck.”</p> +<p>“You! Where did you come from?” gasped +Judith. “I didn’t see you. You needn’t think +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_200' name='page_200'></a>200</span> +I am crying because—because—”</p> +<p>“Because you have been insulted?”</p> +<p>“No. I’m just so miserable because last +night I was so happy, and all day I have been +happy and now I am not.” She looked like a +little girl who had just found out her doll was +stuffed with sawdust.</p> +<p>“Look at my dishes! As long as they had +to be broken I wish I might have had the pleasure +of hitting that man with them instead of +making a dent in my perfectly good milk +cooler.” She laughed and began picking up the +pieces of china.</p> +<p>Was this the staid young lawyer who had +determined to see no more of this red-haired +girl—to nip in the bud any feeling he might +have developed for her? Was this the same +man, running down dale and up hill with a +basket of broken china on his arm, while the +red-haired girl chased on ahead with an empty +milk can, running to make up for lost time and +not be late with the motormen’s supper? He +must wait and help Judith carry the basket. +She had no time to wrangle with him about +whether he should or should not wait. Supper +was cooked but it must be packed properly and +the finishing touches put to it. Mrs. Buck was +wandering around the kitchen making futile +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_201' name='page_201'></a>201</span> +attempts to help. Jeff, who was sitting outside +on a bench under the syringa bushes, could hear +her querulous drawl and Judith’s quick, good-natured +replies.</p> +<p>“Never mind the china, Mumsy. Some of +the pieces can be used as soap dishes and some +maybe we can mend. I’ll tell you all about how +it happened some day but now I must hurry. +There’s a young man waiting in the back yard +to help me carry my basket. If you look out +the side window you can see who it is, but don’t +let him see you peeping.”</p> +<p>Then there was the mad race back to the +station. There was no time or breath for talk. +They reached the platform several minutes +before the seven o’clock trolley.</p> +<p>“Heavens! I came mighty near forgetting +what I came all the way from Buck Hill to find +out,” declared Jeff.</p> +<p>“And what was that?”</p> +<p>“I got to wondering what you would have in +your baskets this evening.”</p> +<p>“Ham croquettes, buttered beets, potato +salad and hot muffins. Blackberry dumpling +for dessert!” Judith smiled, as she chanted the +menu.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_202' name='page_202'></a>202</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XIX_MISS_ANN_MOVES_ON' id='CHAPTER_XIX_MISS_ANN_MOVES_ON'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XIX</h2> +<h3>Miss Ann Moves On</h3> +</div> +<p>The Bucknors of Buck Hill were going +abroad. It was all settled and they were to +start as soon as necessary arrangements could +be made. The plan had been born in Mildred’s +mind and she had influenced her mother, who +in turn had persuaded her husband and now +passage was engaged and it was only a matter +of a few weeks before they would sail.</p> +<p>It had all come about because Jeff had felt +in duty bound to inform his sister that Tom +Harbison had come back to Ryeville with the +intention of calling on another girl, and that +girl Judith Buck.</p> +<p>“I always said she was a forward minx,” +stormed Mildred.</p> +<p>“Right forward with her milk can,” laughed +Jeff, and then he told of Tom’s rebuff and of +the blow he had received instead of the kiss he +demanded. “He’s not worthy of you, little +sister, and you must not bother your head about +him,” said Jeff. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_203' name='page_203'></a>203</span></p> +<p>But Mildred did worry and sulk and feel miserable. +Tom had made more impression on Mildred’s +heart than Jeff had dreamed possible. +The girl was suffering from blighted affections +as well as mortification—both of which no +doubt would be dispelled by the European trip.</p> +<p>Jeff was to settle in Louisville and the home +would be closed, with Aunt Em’ly as caretaker. +But what was to become of Cousin Ann?</p> +<p>“We can’t leave until her visit with us is +completed,” objected Mr. Bucknor.</p> +<p>“But, my dear, her visit to us will never be +finished, unless we cut it short,” sighed Mrs. +Bucknor.</p> +<p>“Let her go visit some of the others,” suggested +Nan, “She’s needing a change by this +time anyhow.”</p> +<p>“We must not be unclannish,” admonished +Mr. Bucknor. “Blood is—”</p> +<p>“Well, mine is not,” interrupted Mildred. +“I’m just fed up on all of this relationship +business. Old Cousin Ann isn’t very close kin +to us anyhow, if you stop and think. She +wasn’t even more than a third cousin to Grandfather +Bucknor, and when it comes down to us +she is so far removed it wouldn’t count if we +lived anywhere but in Kentucky or maybe Virginia. +I thought you were going to have a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_204' name='page_204'></a>204</span> +meeting and come to some conclusion about +Cousin Ann.”</p> +<p>“So we are! So we are! I have been talking +to Big Josh lately about it. Quite a problem! +Big Josh does nothing but talk and laugh +and we never get anywhere. However, we are +going to have a gathering of the clan to-morrow +in Ryeville and I shall bring up the subject.”</p> +<p>“Well, don’t let them persuade you to give +up our trip just to have old Cousin Ann have +a place to visit. We’ve had more than our +share of her already. If she had a spark of +delicacy she would go now and not wait until +we are all upset with packing and all. I know +you have not told her that we are going abroad, +but you know she snoops around enough to +have heard us talking. I bet she knows what +our plans are as well as we know ourselves.”</p> +<p>Mildred was right. Miss Ann did know the +plans of her host and hostess. With windows +and doors wide open and a whole family freely +discussing their trip, it would have been difficult +for one who retained the sense of hearing not +to be aware that something was afoot. Miss +Ann had heard and had determined to move on, +but to which relation should she go? The faithful +Billy was called in consultation. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_205' name='page_205'></a>205</span></p> +<p>“Billy, you have heard?”</p> +<p>“Yes, Miss Ann, I done hearn. I couldn’t +help a hearin’ with niggers as full of it as +whites.”</p> +<p>“I wonder why they did not talk openly to +me of their plans.”</p> +<p>“Well, I reckon they’s kinder shy, kase me’n +you’s a visitin’. I ’low we’s gotter move on, +Miss Ann.” The old man’s face was drawn +with woe. “I kinder felt it a bad sign when +Marse Jeff Bucknor up’n took hisse’f off to +Lou’ville, an’ now this talk ’bout the fambly a +goin’ ter furren parts an’ a shuttin’ up Buck +Hill. Th’ain’t no good gonter come of it—but +howsomever we’s gotter pack up an’ leave.”</p> +<p>“But where are we going, Billy? Cousin +Big Josh—”</p> +<p>“Lawsamussy, Miss Ann, please don’t mention +that there domercile! Our ca’ige ain’t good +fer that trip. That lane would be the endin’ +er us-all. Don’t you reckon we’d better rise +an’ shine to-morrow?”</p> +<p>“Yes, Billy, but where? There’s Cousin +Little Josh and Cousin Sue and Cousin Tom +and Philip Throckmorton and Cousin David’s +oldest daughter, whose married name has +escaped me, but she is living in Jefferson +County. Could the horses go so far?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_206' name='page_206'></a>206</span></p> +<p>“Miss Ann, I ain’t so sho’ ’bout the ca’ige, +but I reckon if you don’t hurry Cupid an’ Puck +none they’s got a lot er go in them yet. I hear +tell Miss Milly an’ the two young ladies air a’ +contemplatin’ a trip in ter Lou’ville in the +mawnin’ an’ I done hear Marse Bob say he wa’ +a’ gonter spen’ the day in Ryeville with some +er the kin folks, eatin’ at the hotel. I ’low +they’ll git a right airly start.”</p> +<p>“Exactly! Well, so will we, Billy. As soon +as they are gone we will go too.”</p> +<p>Miss Ann rather liked to make a mystery of +her departure. One of her idiosyncrasies was +that she seldom divulged the name of her next +host to her last one. She would depart as suddenly +as she had arrived, leaving a formal note +of farewell if the head of the house happened to +be away or asleep. She liked to travel early in +the morning.</p> +<p>“Where are we going, Billy?” Miss Ann’s +voice was tremulous and her eyes were misty.</p> +<p>“Now, Miss Ann, s’pose you jes’ leave that +ter ol’ Billy an’ the hosses. We’s gonter git +somewhar an’ they ain’t no use’n worryin’ whar. +You go down an’ set on the po’ch an’ I’ll pack +yo’ things an’ I’ll do it as good as anybody an’ +we’ll crope out’n here in the mawnin’ befo’ +Marse Bob an’ Miss Milly’s dus’ air settled on +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_207' name='page_207'></a>207</span> +the pike. I ain’t a worryin’ ’bout but one thing +an’ that is that a ol’ dominicker hen air took ter +settin’ on the flo’ er our coach an’ I’m kinder +hatin’ ter ’sturb her when she feels so nice an’ +homelike. I reckon I kin lif her out kinder +sof’ an’ maybe she kin hatch jes the same. She +ain’t got mo’n a day er so ter go.”</p> +<p>“Billy, I am sorry to leave the neighborhood +without seeing that lovely girl—the one who +sent me the gift and to whom the ball was +tendered. She is in reality my kinswoman. I +have been tracing the relationship and find she +is the same kin as my cousins here at Buck Hill—the +young people I mean. I am sorry I did +not tell her so.”</p> +<p>“Yassum! Maybe some day you kin claim +kin with her. I reckon she would be glad an’ +proud ter be cousins ter you, Miss Ann.”</p> +<p>Billy had never told his mistress of his visit +to Judith. That young person had impressed +him as being not at all proud of being of the +same blood as the Bucknors, or in the least +desirous of claiming the relationship. “But +she wa’n’t speakin’ er my Miss Ann,” he said +to himself.</p> +<p>Silently and swiftly old Billy packed his mistress’s +belongings. Every trunk, suitcase and +telescope was in readiness for an early flitting. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_208' name='page_208'></a>208</span> +As he had boasted, they were starting almost +before the dust raised by the departing car of +Mr. and Mrs. Bucknor had settled.</p> +<p>“Hi, what you so nimble-come-trimble ’bout +this mawnin’?” asked Aunt Em’ly, as she met +Billy laden with baggage, sneaking out the back +way, planning to load his coach before hitching +up.</p> +<p>“Miss Ann an’ me is done got a invite ter a +house pawty an’ we air gonter hit the pike in +the cool er the mawnin’.”</p> +<p>“Wha’ you goin’?”</p> +<p>“Heaben when we die,” was all Billy would +divulge.</p> +<p>“Miss Milly an’ Marse Bob ain’t said nothin’ +’bout Miss Ann leavin’. Fac’ is Miss Milly lef’ +word fer me ter dish up a good dinner fer Miss +Ann whilst they wa’ away an’ serve it on a tray +bein’ as she wa’ all alone.”</p> +<p>“Well, I ’low we’ll be settin’ down in the +dinin’-room at the house pawty come dinner +time,” declared the old man, veiled insolence in +his tone.</p> +<p>“What I gonter tell Marse Bob an’ Miss +Milly when they axes wha’ Miss Ann done took +herself?”</p> +<p>“I ain’t consarned with what you tells ’em. +My Miss Ann air done writ a letter ter Miss +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_209' name='page_209'></a>209</span> +Milly an’ if you ain’t got a lie handy you kin +jes’ han’ her the billy dux.”</p> +<p>“I allus been holdin’ ter it an’ I’ll give it ter +you extry clarified, you’s a mean nigger man—mean +an’ low lifed. I axes you, politeful like, +wha’ you an’ Miss Ann a goin’ an’ all you kin +give me is sass.” Aunt Em’ly was full of curiosity +and was greatly irritated not to have her +curiosity satisfied. But Billy was adamant and +Miss Ann more dignified than usual, as she +doled out her small tips—all the poor old lady +could afford, but presented to the servants +whenever she departed with the air of royalty.</p> +<p>“Well, skip-ter-ma-loo, she’s gone agin!” +laughed Aunt Em’ly, as she stood with Kizzie +and watched the old coach rolling down the avenue. +“I reckon Marse Bob’s gonter be right +riled that I can’t tell him wha’ she goin’ but you +couldn’t git nothin’ outer that ol’ Billy with an +ice pick. I laid off ter ax Miss Ann herself +but when she come a sailin’ down the steps like +she done swallowed the poker an’ helt out this +here dime ter me like it wa’ a dollar somehow +she looked kinder awesome an’ I couldn’t say +nothin’ but ‘Thanky!’ Kizzie, did you notice +which-away the coach took when they reached +the pike?”</p> +<p>“I think it went up the road to’ds Marse Big +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_210' name='page_210'></a>210</span> +Josh’s,” said Kizzie, “but the dus’ air pow’ful +thick right now, owin’ ter ortermobiles goin’ +both ways, so I ain’t quite sho’.”</p> +<p>“I wa’ pretty night certain ol’ Billy p’inted +his hosses’ heads to’ds Ryeville, but I ain’t sho’. +It air sech a misty, moisty mornin’ an’ what +with the dus’ it air hard ter punctuate. I reckon +you’s right, Kizzie, an’ they’s hit the pike fer +Marse Big Josh’s. Anyhow we’ll say that when +Marse Bob axes us. If you tells one tale an’ +I tells anudder Marse Bob’ll be mad as a wet +hen.”</p> +<p>The old coach, creaking ominously, lumbered +and rolled down the avenue. The bees, with +their front door blocked by the corn cob, +hummed furiously. Miss Ann, ensconced behind +the barricade of luggage, gazed out on the +rolling meadows of Buck Hill and thought bitterly +of the old days when devoted cavaliers +accompanied her coach, eager to escort her on +her journey and vying with one another for a +smile from the careless girl within.</p> +<p>She tried to remember the intervening years +but could not. She was a beautiful young girl, +sought after, welcomed everywhere. Then she +was an old woman, unloved, unwelcome, nobody +wanting her, nobody loving her. She did not +know where Billy was driving her. She did not +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_211' name='page_211'></a>211</span> +care. The old man had taken matters into his +own hands and no doubt he would leave the +decision to Cupid and Puck. She put her head +against the upholstered back of the seat and +dozed. The morning air came sweet and fresh +across the blue-grass meadows. She had a +dream, vague and uncertain, but in some unexpected +and shadowy way she was happy. She +awoke and dozed again. Again a sweet dream +of peace and contentment.</p> +<p>The horses came to a standstill. Miss Ann +awoke with a start. She did not know whether +she had slept moments or hours. Billy had +opened the door and was saying: “Miss Ann, +we done arriv!” and then he began to unpack +his beloved mistress.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_212' name='page_212'></a>212</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XX_A_HEARTWARMING_WELCOME' id='CHAPTER_XX_A_HEARTWARMING_WELCOME'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XX</h2> +<h3>A Heart-warming Welcome</h3> +</div> +<p>“Mumsy, here comes Cousin Ann!”</p> +<p>“There you are at it again, Judith. I say +shame on you for calling people cousin who +don’t even know they are related.”</p> +<p>“Anyhow, here comes Cousin Ann!”</p> +<p>“Comes where? Along the pike? I don’t +see that that is anything to get excited over.”</p> +<p>“But it is not along the pike. She is coming +here—here in our home. Old Billy has stopped +the horses and is down off his box and has +opened the door and is unpacking the luggage. +After a little while he will come to Cousin Ann.</p> +<p>“Do you know what that means, Mumsy? +It means that we are to be taken into the bosom +of the family, as it were. Cousin Ann only +visits relations. I reckon I’m a snob but I can’t +help being glad that I am to belong. I won’t +let anybody but you know that, Mumsy, but +I’m going to be just as nice and kind to poor +Cousin Ann as can be. You will too, won’t you, +dear Mumsy?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_213' name='page_213'></a>213</span></p> +<p>“Well, I guess I know how to treat company,” +bridled Mrs. Buck.</p> +<p>Miss Ann sat, dazed and wondering, while +Billy pulled out the luggage and piled it up by +the white picket fence. She did not know where +the old coachman had brought her. She wondered +vaguely if it could be the home of Cousin +David’s oldest daughter whose married name +had escaped her. Could she have slept a whole +day?</p> +<p>Suddenly a red-haired girl in a blue dress +came running down the walk and before Billy +could get his mistress unpacked this girl had +sprung into the coach and putting her arms +around Miss Ann’s neck kissed her first on one +cheek and then on the other.</p> +<p>“Mother and I are real glad to see you and +we hope you and Uncle Billy will stay with us +just as long as you are comfortable and happy,” +said Judith. “Howdy, Uncle Billy!”</p> +<p>“Howdy, missy!” Great tears were coursing +down the old brown face.</p> +<p>“The guest chamber is all ready, except for +being sheeted and that won’t take me a minute. +Just bring the things right in, Uncle Billy. +Here, I’ll help and then Miss Ann can get out.”</p> +<p>“Cousin Ann, child! I am your Cousin Ann +Peyton.” Miss Ann spoke from the depths of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_214' name='page_214'></a>214</span> +the coach. And then Mrs. Buck, having hastily +tied on a clean apron, came down the walk and +was introduced to the visitor, greeting her with +shy hospitality.</p> +<p>“I’m pleased to meet you. Judith and I’ll +be right glad of your company.”</p> +<p>How long had it been since anybody had said +that to Miss Ann? The old lady flushed with +pleasure.</p> +<p>“You are my cousin-in-law, but I don’t know +your name.”</p> +<p>“Prudence—Prudence Knight was my +maiden name.”</p> +<p>“Ah, then, Cousin Prudence! It is very kind +of you and your daughter to greet me so cordially. +I hope Billy and I will not be much +trouble during our short stay with you. Are +you certain it is convenient to have us?”</p> +<p>Now be it noted that in all of the long years +of visiting Miss Ann Peyton had never before +asked whether or not her coming was convenient. +Hitherto she had simply come and +stayed until it suited her to move on.</p> +<p>“Indeed it is convenient,” cried Judith. +“Mother and I are here all alone and we have +loads of room.”</p> +<p>When Mr. and Mrs. Ezra Knight broke up +housekeeping in New England they moved +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_215' name='page_215'></a>215</span> +every stick of furniture they possessed to their +new home. This furniture had been in the +family for generations. There were old highboys +of polished mahogany and chaste design, +four-poster beds and gate-legged tables, a +Sheraton sideboard and Chippendale chairs, a +claw-footed secretary with leaded glass doors +and secret drawers. There were hooked rugs +and patchwork quilts of intricate and wonderful +design, hand woven bedspreads of a blue seldom +seen and Chinese cabinets and strange +grotesque brasses, no doubt brought to New +England by the Norse sailor man who had left +his mark on the family according to Mrs. Buck.</p> +<p>Miss Ann Peyton felt singularly at home +from the moment she entered the front door. +The guest chamber, where old Dick Buck had +made it convenient to spend the last years of +his life, was so pleasant one hardly blamed the +old man for establishing himself there. A low-pitched +room it was, with windows looking out +over the meadow and furnished with mahogany +so rare and beautiful it might have graced a +museum.</p> +<p>“Now, Cousin Ann, please make yourself +absolutely at home. If you want to unpack +immediately there is a dandy closet here, and +here is a wardrobe and here is a highboy and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_216' name='page_216'></a>216</span> +here a bureau. Uncle Billy can take your +trunks to the attic when you empty them. I +wish I could help you, but Mumsy and I are +up to our necks canning peaches and we can’t +stop a minute. If you want to come help peel +we’d be delighted. We are on the side porch +and it is lovely and cool out there,” and Judith +was gone.</p> +<p>Help peel peaches! Why not? Miss Ann +smiled. Nobody ever asked her to help. It was +a new experience for her. She decided not to +unpack immediately, but donned an apron and +hastened to the side porch.</p> +<p>It was pleasant there. Mrs. Buck was peeling +laboriously, anxious not to waste a particle +of fruit. She stopped long enough to get a +paring knife and bowl for the visitor.</p> +<p>“Judith has gone to show your servant where +to put the carriage and horses and then to open +up the house in the back for him. It was the +old house the Bucks had before my father +bought this place—a good enough house with +furniture in it. Judith gives it a big cleaning +now and then and I reckon the old man can +move right in.”</p> +<p>Old Billy was in the seventh heaven of delight. +A stable for Cupid and Puck, with +plenty of good pasture land, a carriage house +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_217' name='page_217'></a>217</span> +for the coach, shared with Judith’s little blue +car, but best of all, a house for himself!</p> +<p>“A house with winders an’ a chimbly an’ a +po’ch wha’ I kin sot cans er jewraniums an’ a +box er portulac! I been a dreamin’ ’bout sech +a house all my life, Miss Judy. Sometimes +when I is fo’ced ter sleep in the ca’ige, when +Miss Ann an’ me air a visitin’ wha’ things air +kinder crowded like, I digs me up a little flower +an’ plants it in a ol’ can an’ kinder makes out +my coachman’s box air a po’ch. Miss Judy, it +air a sad thing ter git ter be ol’ an’ wo’ out +’thout ever gittin’ what you wanted when you +wa’ young an’ spry.”</p> +<p>“Yes, Uncle Billy, I know how you feel, but +now you have a little house and you can live in +it as long as it suits you and grow all the flowers +you’ve a mind to. Nobody has lived in it +for years and years but I used to play down +here when I was a little girl and had time to +play. Every now and then I give it a good +cleaning, though, and you won’t have to do +much to start with.”</p> +<p>It was a rough, two-roomed cabin, with +shabby furniture, but it seemed like a palace to +the old darkey.</p> +<p>“I reckon I’ll put me up a red curtain,” he +sighed. “I been always a wantin’ a red +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_218' name='page_218'></a>218</span> +curtain, an’ bless Bob, if they ain’t already a row +of skillets an’ cookin’ pots by the chimbly. I +am moughty partial ter a big open fiah place +wha’ you kin make yo’ se’f a ol’ time ash cake.”</p> +<p>“Can you cook, Uncle Billy?”</p> +<p>“Sho’ I kin cook, but I ain’t git much chanct +ter cook, what with livin’ roun’ so much.”</p> +<p>“Well, you can help me sometimes when I +get pushed for time,” and Judith told the old +man of the task she had undertaken of feeding +the motormen.</p> +<p>“Sholy! Sholy!” he agreed and then the +thought came to him as it had to Miss Ann—When +before had he been asked to help?</p> +<p>Judith found the two ladies busily engaged +in paring peaches. She was amused to discover +that Miss Ann was quicker than her mother and +more expert. The old lady’s fingers were nimble +and dainty and she handled her knife with +remarkable skill.</p> +<p>“My goodness! You go so fast I can begin +to can,” cried Judith. Miss Ann’s face beamed +with happiness as she watched her young cousin +weighing sugar and fruit and then lighting the +kerosene stove which stood behind a screen in +the corner of the porch.</p> +<p>Judith kept up a lively chatter as she sterilized +glass jars and dipped out the cooked fruit. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_219' name='page_219'></a>219</span> +Miss Ann worked faster and faster and even +Mrs. Buck hurried in spite of herself. Uncle +Billy’s amazement was ludicrous when he came +upon his mistress making one of this busy family +group. But in an instant the old man was +helping, too.</p> +<p>The morning was gone but the peaches were +all canned, the table filled with amber-colored +jars. Billy must carry them to the storeroom +and place them on the shelves. He ran back +and forth looking like a little brown gnome and +actually skipping with happiness. Miss Ann +smiled contentedly while Mrs. Buck gathered +up the peach skins and stones which she had +saved with a view to making marmalade, +although Judith assured her that the peach crop +was so big that year there would be no use in +such close economy.</p> +<p>“Now, we’ll have luncheon and then everybody +must take a nap,” commanded Judith and +everybody was very glad to, after the strenuous +morning’s work, but first Billy slipped out to +the carriage house and pulled the corn cob out +of the bumble bees’ hole.</p> +<p>“There now, you po’ critters! I reckon you +kin call this home too an’ jes’ buzz aroun’ all +you’se a min’ ter,” the old man whispered +happily.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_220' name='page_220'></a>220</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXI_THE_CLAN_IN_CONCLAVE' id='CHAPTER_XXI_THE_CLAN_IN_CONCLAVE'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXI</h2> +<h3>The Clan In Conclave</h3> +</div> +<p>Mr. Bob Bucknor was troubled. He had +always prided himself on keeping an open house +for his relations and to him Cousin Ann was a +kind of symbol of consanguinity. He paid very +little attention to her as a rule, except to be +scrupulously polite. He had been trained in +politeness to Cousin Ann from his earliest childhood +and had endeavored to bring his own children +up with the same strict regard to hospitality +and courtesy to his aged relative. His son +had profited by his teaching and was ever kindly +to the old lady, but his daughters had rebelled, +and it could not be denied were even openly +rude to the chronic visitor. Now this project of +European travel was afoot and the problem of +what to do with Cousin Ann must be settled. +The masculine representatives of the family +were meeting in Ryeville and the matter was +soon under discussion.</p> +<p>“It’s the women,” declared Big Josh. “They +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_221' name='page_221'></a>221</span> +are kicking like steers and they say they won’t +stand for her any longer.”</p> +<p>“My wife says she has got a nice old cousin +who would like to come and stay with us, and +that she does all the darning wherever she stays +and looks after the children besides. Nobody +ever heard of Cousin Ann turning a hand to +help anybody,” said Little Josh.</p> +<p>“Well, I fancy you have heard the news that +I am taking my wife and daughters abroad this +month and I cannot keep the poor old lady any +longer,” sighed Bob Bucknor.</p> +<p>“Sure, Bob, we think you’ve had too much +of her already,” said Sister Sue’s husband, Timothy +Graves, “but Sue says she can’t visit with +us any more. The children are big enough now +to demand separate rooms and our house is not +very large—not as large as it used to be somehow. +In old days people didn’t mind doubling +up, but nobody wants to double up with Cousin +Ann and her horses are a nuisance and that old +Billy irritates the servants and—”</p> +<p>“My mother says an old ladies’ home is the +only thing for her,” said David Throckmorton.</p> +<p>“So do all the women. But who’s going to +bell the cat?” asked Big Josh.</p> +<p>“I reckon we’ll have to go in a body and +speak in chorus,” suggested Little Josh. It +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_222' name='page_222'></a>222</span> +was thus decided, after much argument. All +the cousins were willing to contribute something +towards the support of the old lady, but nobody +was willing or able to take her in his home.</p> +<p>“Of course, we must provide for old Billy, +too.”</p> +<p>“Of course!”</p> +<p>“Well, after dinner all of you ride out to +Buck Hill and there wait on the poor old thing +and together we can break the news to her. +It’s going to make me feel awfully bad,” declared +Mr. Bob Bucknor.</p> +<p>“I reckon we’ll all feel bad, but none of us +must weaken,” blustered Big Josh. “And +while we are discussing family matters, how +about this talk about that pretty Miss Judith +Buck being a cousin?”</p> +<p>“The women folk have settled that. At +least mine have; and since we are the closest +neighbors there at Buck Hill—” began Bob +Bucknor.</p> +<p>“You may be the closest neighbors, but you +are not the closest kin. I’m for taking her into +the clan. By golly, we haven’t got too many +pretty women in our family to be turning any +down. I tell you, I’m going to call on her. +Owe her a party call anyhow.” Thus rumbled +Big Josh. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_223' name='page_223'></a>223</span></p> +<p>“Better not,” warned Mr. Bob Bucknor and +then, since the clan were having dinner at the +hotel where “you could” and a feeling of good +cheer had begun to permeate the diners, Mr. +Bucknor proceeded to tell the story, of course +in the strictest confidence, about Tom Harbison +and the milk can, all of which went to convince +others beside Big Josh that Judith might prove +a valuable acquisition to the family.</p> +<p>“I reckon she’s coped with worse than our +women,” said Little Josh. “With poverty staring +her in the face and old Dick Buck for a +grandfather, she’s kept her head up and made +a living and got a tidy bank account, so I hear. +All by herself, too! I think I’ll call when +you do, Big Josh, but I’ll fight shy of the milk +cans.”</p> +<p>So it was voted that Judith was to be received +into the family, Mr. Bob Bucknor making +a mental reservation that he would not +divulge the news to his wife and daughters +until they were well out of Kentucky. He had +strong hopes that European travel might soften +the hearts of his daughters towards their pretty, +red-haired cousin and neighbor.</p> +<p>“While we’ve got a little Dutch courage +left, let’s go on out to Buck Hill and tackle +Cousin Ann,” said Big Josh. “Now +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_224' name='page_224'></a>224</span> +remember, all at once and nobody backing out and +coughing. Everybody speak up strong and all +together.”</p> +<p>A handsome family of men they were, taken +all in all—handsome and prosperous, good citizens, +honorable, upright, courageous—but this +thing of deliberately getting together to inform +a poor old woman that no longer would their +several homes be ready to receive her made them +seem to themselves anything but admirable.</p> +<p>“Darn the women folks, I say!” rumbled +Big Josh. “If they weren’t so selfish and bent +on their own pleasure we would not have to be +doing this miserable thing.”</p> +<p>“Perhaps if we had helped them a little with +Cousin Ann they wouldn’t be kicking so,” +humbly suggested Little Josh.</p> +<p>“Help them! Help them! How in Pete’s +name could we help them any more? I am sure +I have allowed Cousin Ann to give me a lamp +mat every Christmas since I was born and my +attic is full of her hoop skirts.” A smile went +the rounds and Big Josh subsided.</p> +<p>Buck Hill never looked more hospitable or +attractive, as the cousins speeded up the driveway—two +cars full of Kentucky blue blood. +The gently rolling meadows dotted with grazing +cattle, the great friendly beech trees on the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_225' name='page_225'></a>225</span> +shaven lawn, the monthly roses in the garden, +the ever-blooming honeysuckle clambering over +the summer-house seemed to cry out, “Welcome +to all!”</p> +<p>“Gee! Poor Cousin Ann!” muttered one. +“No wonder she likes to stay here.”</p> +<p>An unwonted silence fell on the group, as +they tiptoed up the front walk. They could +not have said why they walked so quietly, but +had they been called on to serve as pall bearers +to their aged relative they would not have entered +into the duty with any greater solemnity.</p> +<p>Aunt Em’ly appeared at the front door.</p> +<p>“Lawsamussy, Marse Bob, you done give +me a turn,” she gasped, bobbing a courtesy to +the assembled gentlemen. “Is you done et?”</p> +<p>“Yes, yes, Aunt Em’ly, we have had dinner, +but we should like to—”</p> +<p>“Yassir! I’ll git the ice cracked in no time +an’ sen’ Kizzie fer some mint.”</p> +<p>“Not yet, Aunt Em’ly,” faltered her master +miserably. “A little later, perhaps, but +now—”</p> +<p>“I know! You done had a po’ dinner an’ +come home fer some ’spectable victuals. It +ain’t gonter take me long.”</p> +<p>“Not at all, Aunt Em’ly, we had an excellent +dinner, but now—” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_226' name='page_226'></a>226</span></p> +<p>“Call Miss Ann Peyton,” blustered Big +Josh. “Tell her her cousins all want to see +her,” and then he swelled his chest with pride. +He for one wasn’t going to back out.</p> +<p>“Miss Ann done gone,” grinned Aunt Em’ly.</p> +<p>“Gone where?” they asked in chorus.</p> +<p>“Gawd knows! She an’ ol’ Billy an’ the +hosses done took theyselves off this mawnin’ jes’ +’bout five minutes after my white folks lef.”</p> +<p>“Didn’t she say where she was going?” asked +Mr. Bucknor.</p> +<p>“She never said ‘peep turkey!’ ter man or +beast. She lef’ a dime fer me an’ one fer Kizzie +an’ she went a sailin’ out, an’ although I done +my bes’ ter git that ol’ Billy ter talk he ain’t +done give me no satisfaction, but jes’ a little +back talk, an’ then he fotch hisself off, walkin’ +low an’ settin’ high an’ I ain’t seed hide or har +of them since. Miss Ann done lef’ a note fer +you an’ Miss Milly, though.”</p> +<p>The note proved to be nothing more than +Miss Ann’s usual formal farewell and did not +mention her proposed destination.</p> +<p>“By the great jumping jingo, I hope she +didn’t try my lane with her old carriage!” exclaimed +Big Josh. “That lane, with the women +in my family at the end of it, would be the +undoing of poor old Cousin Ann. May I use +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_227' name='page_227'></a>227</span> +your phone, Bob? I think I’ll find out if she’s +there before I go home.”</p> +<p>Every man rang up his home and every man +breathed a sigh of relief when he found that +Miss Ann had not arrived. Wild and varied +were their surmises concerning where she had +gone.</p> +<p>“This is the most disgraceful thing that ever +happened in the family,” declared Timothy +Graves. “Of course I know I am only law-kin, +but still I feel the disgrace.”</p> +<p>“You needn’t be so proud of yourself, Tim, +because you were some kin already before you +married Sister Sue,” chided Brother Tom. “I +can’t see that you are not in on it too.”</p> +<p>“That’s what I said.”</p> +<p>“Yes, but you said it because you really felt +it in your favor that you were law-kin,” put in +Little Josh.</p> +<p>“Nonsense!”</p> +<p>“Come, come,” pleaded Mr. Bob Bucknor, +“rowing with each other isn’t finding out where +Cousin Ann has gone. Kizzie! Aunt Em’ly!” +he shouted, “get that cracked ice and mint +now. Come on, you fellows, and let’s see if +we can find any inspiration in the bottom of a +frosted goblet.”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_228' name='page_228'></a>228</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXII_A_GREAT_TRANSFORMATION' id='CHAPTER_XXII_A_GREAT_TRANSFORMATION'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXII</h2> +<h3>A Great Transformation</h3> +</div> +<p>It was unbelievable that a lumbering coach, +with two fat horses, an old lady in a hoop skirt +and a bow-legged coachman, could have disappeared +from the face of the earth. Nevertheless, +this seemed the case. Nobody knew where +Cousin Ann had gone. Telephones were ringing +into the night in vain attempts to trace the +old lady. It had never made much difference +to anyone before where Miss Ann had gone. +For many years she had been leaving one relation’s +home and arriving at another’s, and the +comings and goings of Cousin Ann had created +but a small ripple in family affairs. She had +never deigned to say where next she intended to +visit, so why now should the cousins be so disturbed +over her whereabouts?</p> +<p>“I am so afraid something has happened to +her,” said Mr. Bob Bucknor. “I’ll never forgive +myself if Cousin Ann is in trouble, when +I have literally driven her from my house.”</p> +<p>“But, my dear, you have not driven her from +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_229' name='page_229'></a>229</span> +your home,” comforted his wife. “You had +only intended to inform her that we were planning +a trip abroad and she would have to visit +somewhere else until arrangements could be +made for her to be established in an old ladies’ +home. There was nothing cruel in that.”</p> +<p>“Ah, but Cousin Ann is so proud and Buck +Hill has always been a refuge for her.”</p> +<p>The other cousins were likewise agitated. +For Cousin Ann to have disappeared just as +they were contemplating wounding her made +them think that they had already wounded her. +“Poor old lady!” was all they could say, and +all of them said it until their women-folk were +exceedingly bored with the remark.</p> +<p>Mr. Bob Bucknor determined to send for +Jeff, if something definite was not heard of +the missing cousin within the next twenty-four +hours. He vaguely felt that it might be time +for the law to step in and help in the search.</p> +<p>In the meantime Miss Ann was very happy +in the house built by Ezra Knight; and Uncle +Billy was even happier in the cabin built by +the Bucks of old. The Peyton coach stood +peacefully in the carriage house, with the bees +buzzing sleepily, free to come and go in their +subway nest somewhere under the back seat. +Cupid and Puck wandered in the blue-grass +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_230' name='page_230'></a>230</span> +meadow, content as though they had been put +to graze in the Elysian fields.</p> +<p>The first night under the roof of her newly +recognized cousins was a novel one for Miss +Ann. She had gone to bed not in the least +bored, but very tired—tired from actual labor. +In the first place, she had helped wipe all the +many dishes accumulated from the motormen’s +dinners and then put them away. That task +completed, she had become interested in Judith’s +work of mounting photographs—an order +lately received and one that must be rushed.</p> +<p>“Want to help?” Judith had asked, and +soon deft old fingers were vying with young +ones.</p> +<p>“Why, Cousin Ann, you have regular fairy +fingers,” said Judith, and the old lady had +blushed with delight. They worked until the +task was completed, while Mrs. Buck nodded +over “Holy Living and Dying.”</p> +<p>In the morning, when Judith made her early +way to the kitchen, she found a fire burning +briskly in the stove, the kettle ready to boil and +the wood box filled. Uncle Billy, smiling happily, +was seated in the doorway. Judith thanked +him heartily and he assured her he liked to help +white ladies, but didn’t hold much to helping +his own race. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_231' name='page_231'></a>231</span></p> +<p>“They’s ongrateful an’ proudified an’ the +mo’ you holps ’em the mo’ they shifts. Me’n +Miss Ann has been visitin so long we ain’t +entered much inter housekeepin’, but somehow +we seem so sot an’ statiumnary now that it +comes nachul ter both er us ter len’ a han’.”</p> +<p>“That’s nice,” laughed Judith. “I do hope +you and Cousin Ann and Cupid and Puck will +all feel at home. I wish you would keep your +eye open for a nice, respectable woman who +could help me, now that I have so many dinners +to serve to the trolley men.”</p> +<p>“I sho’ will—an’, Miss Judy, I’m wonderin’ +if you ain’t got a little bitser blue cloth what I +mought patch my pants with. If my coattails +wa’n’t so long I wouldn’t be fitten ter go +’mongst folks.”</p> +<p>After some discussion with her mother, in +which the girl tried to make Mrs. Buck see the +difference between saving and hoarding, Judith +finally produced for old Billy many leftovers +of maternal and paternal grandfathers.</p> +<p>“Mumsy, you are a trump. Now, you see +you saved these things so someone deserving +could use them, but if they had stayed in the +attic until the moths had eaten them up while +old Billy went ragged then that would have been +wasteful hoarding.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_232' name='page_232'></a>232</span></p> +<p>“I’m not minding so much about your +Grandfather Buck’s things, but somehow it +seems a desecration for that old darkey to be +wearing your Grandfather Knight’s trousers.”</p> +<p>“That’s what makes me say you are a trump, +Mumsy. I know you look upon those broadcloth +pants as a kind of sacred trust, and I +just love you to death for giving in about +them.”</p> +<p>“And my father was tall and straight of +limb, too,” wailed Mrs. Buck. “It seems +worse because old Billy’s legs are so short and +crooked.”</p> +<p>Crooked they may have been, but short they +were not. By the time the broadcloth trousers +traveled the circuitous route of the old man’s +legs everything came out even.</p> +<p>“Fit me like they was made fer me,” he +exclaimed, showing himself to Judith.</p> +<p>“Perhaps they were,” mused Judith. “And +now the coat!”</p> +<p>It was a rusty coat, long of tail and known +at the time of its pristine glory as a “Prince +Albert.” Ezra Knight had kept it for funerals +and other ceremonious occasions.</p> +<p>“Is there ary hat?”</p> +<p>There was—a high silk hat with a broad +brim. Mrs. Buck rather thought it was one +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_233' name='page_233'></a>233</span> +that had belonged to her grandfather and not +her father. At any rate, it rested comfortably +on Billy’s cotton white wool.</p> +<p>“Now, Uncle Billy, trim your beard and +nobody will know you,” suggested Judith. So +trim his beard he did, much to the improvement +of his appearance.</p> +<p>“Reform number one!” said Judith to herself.</p> +<p>Miss Ann slept the sleep of industry that +first night at the Bucks’, and the sun was high +when she opened her tired old eyes. She lay +still for a moment, wondering where she was. +This room was different from any of the other +guest chambers she had occupied. There was +a kind of austerity in the quaint old furniture +that was lacking in the bedrooms where modern +taste held sway. Nothing had been taken from +or added to the Bucks’ guest chamber since +Grandmother Knight had reverently placed +there her best highboy and her finest mahogany +bed and candle stand. On the mantel was the +model of a ship that tradition said the Norse +sailor had carved, and on the walls steel engravings +of Milton and Newton—Milton looking +up at the stars seeking the proper rhymes, +and Newton with eyes cast down searching out +the power of gravity from the ground. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_234' name='page_234'></a>234</span></p> +<p>Miss Ann looked on her surroundings and +smiled peacefully. She thought over the happenings +of yesterday and again she realized that +it was a pleasant thing to be wanted. There +was a knock at the door. Billy, no doubt with +hot water and maybe an early cup of coffee.</p> +<p>“Come in!”</p> +<p>It was Judith bearing a tray of breakfast.</p> +<p>“Not a bit of use in your getting up early, +Cousin Ann, but every reason for you to have +breakfast while it is fresh and hot, so I just +brought it in to you. I often make my mother +stay in bed for breakfast if she is not feeling +very strong. There is nothing like starting the +day with something in your tummy. It is a +lovely day with a touch of autumn in the air. +I do hope you slept.”</p> +<p>Judith chattered on, ignoring the fact that +Miss Ann was evidently embarrassed that she +had been caught minus her wig. The girl +opened wide the shutters, letting the sunlight +stream into the room.</p> +<p>“Oh, Cousin Ann, what wonderful hair you +have! Why it is like the driven snow and as +soft as silk! Please, please let me arrange it +for you sometimes. I don’t know whether you +ought to wear it piled on your head in coils +and puffs, like a French beauty of way back +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_235' name='page_235'></a>235</span> +yonder, or parted in the middle and waved on +each side and drawn back into a loose knot.”</p> +<p>“Oh, child, you can’t think gray hair pretty.”</p> +<p>“Why, it is the loveliest thing in the world. +If I had hair like yours I’d never cover it up. +You will let me try to dress it won’t you? I +just love to touch it,” and Judith fondled one +of the silvered plats.</p> +<p>“Yes,” faltered the old lady. How long had +it been since anyone but old Billy had complimented +her? And when had anyone said her +hair might be soft to the touch? Wigs do not +last forever and Miss Ann had begun to realize +that before many weeks a new one would be +imperative. A new wig meant even greater +scrimping than usual for Billy and his mistress. +Funds must be very carefully handled when +such an outlay became necessary. It was next +in importance to a new horse, and greater than +renewing a wheel on the coach. She had never +dreamed that she might get along without a wig. +She had begun wearing a wig many years ago, +when her hair turned gray in spots. She had +always considered dyed hair rather vulgar and +so had resorted to a wig and, true to her character +for keeping up a custom, she had never discarded +the wig, although her hair had long +since turned snow-white from root to end. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_236' name='page_236'></a>236</span></p> +<p>“Reform number two,” Judith said to herself +as she viewed her handiwork on Cousin +Ann’s hair. It was decided to part it in the +middle and wave it on the sides and sweetly +the old lady’s face was framed in the soft, +silver locks.</p> +<p>“You look different from yourself, but +lovely,” cried Judith. “You make me think of +a young person trying to look old.”</p> +<p>She might have added: “Instead of an old +person trying to look young,” but she did not.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_237' name='page_237'></a>237</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXIII_THE_LOST_IS_FOUND' id='CHAPTER_XXIII_THE_LOST_IS_FOUND'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIII</h2> +<h3>The Lost Is Found</h3> +</div> +<p>Two days passed and still the Bucknor clan +was in ignorance of the whereabouts of Cousin +Ann. It had so happened that Judith had been +busy at home and had not gone into Ryeville +for several days and nobody had called at her +home, although since the famous debut party +the Bucks had many more visitors than +formerly.</p> +<p>Cousin Ann could not have concealed herself +from the world more effectually had she tried. +Concealment was far from her thoughts, however. +She had no idea that a hue and cry would +be raised for her. The Fates, in the shapes of +Billy, Cupid and Puck, had taken her destiny +in hand and landed her with this golden girl, +who wanted her and loved her and petted her +and made her feel at home. Here she would +stay. How long? She would not let herself +dwell on that subject.</p> +<p>What the rest of the family would think of +her claiming kin with the hitherto impossible +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_238' name='page_238'></a>238</span> +Bucks made little difference to the old lady. +She determined never to divulge that old Billy +had engineered the visit, but intended, when the +question came up with her kinsmen, to let it be +understood that she, Ann Peyton, had ruled +that Judith Buck belonged to the family and +had as good a right to the name of Bucknor as +any person bearing the name.</p> +<p>The old men of Ryeville were seated in tilted +chairs on the hotel porch. The little touch +of autumn in the air made it rather pleasant +when the sun sought out their feet resting on +the railing.</p> +<p>“What’s this I hear about the disappearance +of Miss Ann Peyton?” asked Major Fitch. +“Someone told me that she has not been heard +of now for several days and Bob Bucknor is +just about having a fit over it. He and Big +Josh are scouring the country for her, after +having burnt up all the telephone wires in the +county trying to locate her.”</p> +<p>“It’s true,” chuckled Colonel Crutcher. “My +granddaughter says Mildred Bucknor is raising +a rumpus because her father is saying he can’t +go abroad until Cousin Ann is found. First, he +can’t go because the old lady is visiting him +and now he can’t go because she isn’t visiting +him.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_239' name='page_239'></a>239</span></p> +<p>“Well, a big, old ramshackledy rockaway +like Miss Ann’s, with a pair of horses fat +enough to eat and the bow-leggedest coachman +in Kentucky, to say nothing of Miss Ann herself +with her puffy red wig and hoop skirts as +wide as a barn door, couldn’t disappear in a +rat hole. They must be somewhere and they +must have gone along the road to get where they +were going. Certainly they haven’t passed this +way or we’d have seen them,” said Judge Middleton.</p> +<p>“I hear tell Bob Bucknor has sent for Jeff +to come and advise him,” drawled Pete Barnes. +“And I also hear tell that the Bucknor men +were gettin’ ready to let poor ol’ Miss Ann +know that she was due to settle herself in an +ol’ ladies’ home. They were cookin’ it up that +day they all had dinner here last week.”</p> +<p>“Yes, and what’s more, I hear our Judy gal +knocked that Tom Harbison down the hill with +a milk bucket,” laughed Pete. “I got it +straight from Big Josh himself.”</p> +<p>So the old men gossiped, basking in the +autumn sunshine. They still quarreled over the +outcome of the war between the states, but now +they had a fresh topic of never-ending interest +to discuss and that was their own debut party. +Congratulations were ever in order on their +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_240' name='page_240'></a>240</span> +extreme cleverness in giving the ball.</p> +<p>Pete Barnes was ever declaring, “It was my +idee, though, my idee! And didn’t we launch +our little girl, though? I hear tell she is going +to be asked to join the girls’ club. That’s a +secret. I believe the girls are going to wait +until Mildred and Nan Bucknor are on the +rolling deep. As for the young men—they are +worse than bears about a bee tree. Judy won’t +have much to do with them though. But you +needn’t tell me she doesn’t like it.”</p> +<p>“Sure she does. She’s too healthy-minded not +to like beaux. There she comes now! I can +see her car way up the street—just a blue +speck,” cried Judge Middleton.</p> +<p>“Sure enough! There she is! She’s got her +mother in with her.”</p> +<p>“That’s not Mrs. Buck. Mrs. Buck always +sits in Judy’s car as though she were scared to +death—and she hasn’t white hair either.”</p> +<p>“Hi, Miss Judy!”</p> +<p>“Hi, yourself!” and Judith stopped her car +in front of the hotel.</p> +<p>“Boys, that’s Miss Ann Peyton!” cried +Major Fitch. “Miss Ann or I’ll eat my hat!”</p> +<p>“She’s already eaten her wig. No wonder +we didn’t know her! And she’s left off her +hoops!” cried the Judge. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_241' name='page_241'></a>241</span></p> +<p>The old men removed their feet from +railing, dropped their chairs to all fours, sprang +up and, standing in a row, made a low bow +to the occupants of the little blue car. Then +they trooped off the porch and gathered in a +circle around the ladies.</p> +<p>“The last I heard of you, Miss Ann, was +that you were lost,” said Judge Middleton.</p> +<p>“Not a bit of it,” declared Judith. “She is +found.”</p> +<p>“Yes—and I think I’ve found myself, too,” +said Miss Ann softly. “I am visiting my dear +young cousin, Judith Buck.”</p> +<p>“At my urgent invitation,” explained Judith.</p> +<p>“I am staying on at her invitation, but I +followed my usual habit and went uninvited,” +said the old lady firmly.</p> +<p>The old men listened in amazement. What +was this? Miss Ann Peyton openly claiming +relationship with old Dick Buck’s granddaughter +and riding around—minus wig and hoops—with +the new-found cousin in a home-made +blue car! Miss Ann was meek but happy.</p> +<p>“Well, I swan!” exclaimed Pete Barnes.</p> +<p>“What do you suppose he meant by saying +they thought you were lost?” Judith asked on +the way home from Ryeville. “Didn’t they +know you were coming to me?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_242' name='page_242'></a>242</span></p> +<p>“No,” faltered Miss Ann. “I seldom +divulge where I intend to visit next. That is +my affair,” she added with a touch of her former +hauteur—a manner she had discarded with the +wig and hoop skirt. Wild horses could not drag +from her the fact that she had not known herself +where she was going.</p> +<p>“That’s all right, Cousin Ann, but if you +ever get tired of staying at my house I am going +to be hurt beyond measure if you go off without +telling me where you are going. Promise +me you’ll never treat me that way.”</p> +<p>“I promise. I have never told the others +because it has never made any difference to +them.”</p> +<p>When the blue car disappeared up the street +the old men of Ryeville went into conference.</p> +<p>“Don’t that beat bobtail?”</p> +<p>“Do you fellows realize that means our gal +is recognized for good and all? Miss Ann may +be played out as a visitor with her kinfolks, but +she’s still head forester of the family tree,” said +Judge Middleton.</p> +<p>“Don’t you reckon we’d better ’phone Buck +Hill or Big Josh or some of the family that +Miss Ann is found?” asked Pete Barnes.</p> +<p>“No, let’s let ’em worry a while longer. +They’ve been kinder careless of Miss Ann to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_243' name='page_243'></a>243</span> +have mislaid her, and mighty snobbish with our +gal not to have claimed kin with her long ago. +My advice is let ’em worry, let ’em worry,” decreed +Major Fitch.</p> +<p>Miss Ann wasn’t lost very long, however. +That same evening, when Judith made her daily +trip to the trolley stop with the men’s dinner, +Jefferson Bucknor stepped from the rear platform +of the six-thirty.</p> +<p>“In time to carry your ‘empties’ for you,” +he said, shaking Judith’s hand with a warmth +that his casual greeting did not warrant. Judith +surrendered the basket, but held on to the +empty milk can.</p> +<p>“Your trusty weapon,” said Jeff, and they +both laughed. “Have you knocked anybody +down lately?” the young man asked.</p> +<p>“Not many, but I am always prepared with +my milk can. It is a deadly weapon, with or +without buttermilk.”</p> +<p>“I wonder if you are anywhere near so glad +to see me as I am to see you. I have been +sticking to business and trying to make believe +that Louisville is as nice as Ryeville, and Louisville +girls are as beautiful as they are reputed +to be, and that the law is the most interesting +thing in the world, but somehow I can’t fool +myself. Are you glad to see me?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_244' name='page_244'></a>244</span></p> +<p>“Of course,” said Judith.</p> +<p>“I wish you wouldn’t swing that milk can so +vigorously. I think a cousin might be allowed +to ask if you are glad to see him without being +in danger of having to take the same medicine +Tom Harbison had to swallow. I’ve come +home on a rather sad mission, in a way, and still +I wanted to see my little cousin so much I can’t +help making a kind of lark of it. I am really +worried very much, and should go to Buck Hill +immediately, but if you don’t mind, I’ll hang +around while you get the seven o’clock dinners +packed and then help you carry them.”</p> +<p>Judith did not mind at all. “I hope nobody +at Buck Hill is ill,” she said.</p> +<p>“No, but my father is in a great stew over +old Cousin Ann Peyton. She is lost and he +seems to feel I can find her. Why, I don’t +know, if he and Big Josh can’t, even with the +help of the marshal.”</p> +<p>“I am sure you can,” declared Judith demurely, +and Jeff thought happily how agreeable +it was to have someone besides a father have +such faith in his ability.</p> +<p>“You must come in and wait,” insisted +Judith. “There is a fire in the dining-room. +It is cold for September and a little fire towards +evening is pleasant.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_245' name='page_245'></a>245</span></p> +<p>Jeff entered the home of his newly claimed +cousin with a feeling of some embarrassment. +It seemed strange that he had lived on the adjoining +farm all his early years and that this was +the first time he had been in the Bucks’ house. +There was a chaste New England charm about +the dining-room that appealed to him. It was +a fit background for the tall, white-haired old +lady who was busily engaged in setting the +table as the young people entered. She was +smiling and humming a gay little minuet, as +she straightened table mats and arranged forks +and knives in exactly the proper relation to +each other and the teaspoons.</p> +<p>Stooping and placing wood on the fire was an +old negro man. His back was strangely +familiar to Jeff and there was something about +the lines of the white-haired old lady that made +him stare. She was like Cousin Ann but +couldn’t be she. Not only the snowy hair and +the simple, straight skirt of her gown were not +those of the lost cousin, but the fact that she +was engaged in household duties was even more +convincing of a case of mistaken identity. It +was old Billy that had flashed through his mind, +when he noticed the fire maker, but old Billy +never engaged in any form of domestic labor +any more than his mistress. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_246' name='page_246'></a>246</span></p> +<p>“Someone to see you, Cousin Ann,” said +Judith, putting her arm around the old lady’s +waist.</p> +<p>Jeff choked and gasped.</p> +<p>That evening the telephone wires were again +kept hot by the Bucknors and their many kinsmen. +Everybody who had been informed of +Miss Ann’s being lost must be informed of her +being found. Big and Little Josh drove over +to Buck Hill to hear the story of Jeff’s discovery.</p> +<p>“And what were you doing at the Bucks’?” +Big Josh asked Jeff.</p> +<p>“I was calling on Miss Judith. In fact, I +had jumped off the trolley at that stop because +I hoped she would be there,” said Jeff, +his face flushing but his eyes holding a steady +light as he looked into those of his father’s +cousin. He even raised his voice a little so as +to make sure that everyone in the room might +hear him.</p> +<p>“Well, well!” exploded Big Josh. “You +have beat me to it. I was planning to go to-morrow +to call on our Cousin Judith Buck. +You know she is our cousin, Jeff—not too +close, but just close enough. She has been +voted into the family when we sat in solemn +conclave and now to think of her proving she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_247' name='page_247'></a>247</span> +is kin before we had time to let her know of +her election—prove it by taking poor Cousin +Ann in and making her welcome! By jingo, +she is a more worthy member of the clan than +any woman we have in the family. I was all +for taking her in because she is so gol darned +pretty and up-and-coming. I must confess I +wouldn’t have been so eager about it if she had +been jimber-jawed and cross-eyed, but, by the +great jumping jingo, I’d say be my long-lost +cousin now if she had a wooden leg, a glass eye +and china teeth!”</p> +<p>“Cousin Ann has left off her wig and her +hoop skirts, too,” said Jeff, “and old Billy has +trimmed his beard, and, what is more, both of +them were busy helping—Cousin Ann setting +the table and Uncle Billy bringing in wood and +mending the fire.”</p> +<p>“Did Judith Buck make them do it,” asked +Mildred. “She was a great boss at school.”</p> +<p>“That I don’t know, but they seemed very +happy in being able to help. Mrs. Buck told +me she was glad to have a visitor. Her daughter +is away so much and she gets lonely. Old +Uncle Billy is established in a cabin behind the +house—”</p> +<p>“The one old Dick Buck lived in,” interrupted +Big Josh. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_248' name='page_248'></a>248</span></p> +<p>“And the old man told me he was planning +to do the fall ploughing with Cupid and Puck. +He says they have plenty of pull left in them +and my private opinion is that Cousin Ann’s +old coach will not stand another trip.”</p> +<p>“See here,” spoke Little Josh, who was the +practical member of the family, “this is all +very well, but we Bucknors can’t sit back and +let this little Judy Buck support our old cousin. +The girl works night and day for a living and +to try to pull the farm her Grandfather Knight +left her and her mother back into some kind of +fertility. Old Billy and Cousin Ann may set +the table and make the fires, but that isn’t +bringing any money into the business. We’ve +got to reimburse the girl somehow.”</p> +<p>“She wouldn’t stand for it,” said Jeff. “She +is as proud as can be to be able to have Cousin +Ann visit her.”</p> +<p>“Well, then we’ll have to find a way that +won’t hurt her pride. Let’s send things to +Cousin Ann. It will please the old lady and +at the same time help on our Cousin Judith.”</p> +<p>“What kind of things?” asked Mr. Bob +Bucknor, who had been singularly quiet and +thoughtful ever since his mind was relieved as +to his cousin’s not being lost.</p> +<p>“The kind of things neighbors and kinsmen +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_249' name='page_249'></a>249</span> +do for one another in our state and all other +states where neighbors are neighborly and where +blood is thicker than water, and blue blood +thicker than any other kind,” exclaimed Big +Josh. “When you kill mutton don’t you send +me a quarter? Well, send one to the Bucks instead. +When your potato crop was a failure +owing to the bugs getting ahead of you, didn’t +I share with you? Well, let me share with this +girl. When I harvest, aren’t all the relations +ready to send hands to help if I need help? +Who ever helped Judith Buck?</p> +<p>“I bet your smokehouse is full and running +over this minute. I know mine is. Well, let +them run over in the right channel. We can’t +do enough for this young cousin. Gee, man, +just to think of our being spared the humiliation +of having to go to Cousin Ann and, tell her +that we couldn’t look after her any longer! I +break out in a cold sweat whenever I think of +how near we came to it.</p> +<p>“If Cupid and Puck can’t pull the plough, +how about sending your tractor over and getting +Cousin Judith’s few acres broken up for her in +three shakes of a dead sheep’s tail? I’d do it +if I were closer. Why, jiminy crickets! We +owe her an everlasting debt of gratitude just +for persuading Cousin Ann to step out of her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_250' name='page_250'></a>250</span> +wig and hoops, and another one for making +that old Billy trim his beard. I believe his +beard was what made the other darkeys hate +him so, and I know if it hadn’t have been for +Cousin Ann’s hoop skirt and wig she would have +been helping the women folk around the house +long before this. What they had against her +was that she was always company wherever she +stayed. I tell you, give me a red-headed girl +for managing!”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_251' name='page_251'></a>251</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXIV_BLESSINGS_BEGIN_TO_FLOW' id='CHAPTER_XXIV_BLESSINGS_BEGIN_TO_FLOW'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIV</h2> +<h3>Blessings Begin to Flow</h3> +</div> +<p>“Well, I say it’s a good thing these cousins +of yours didn’t decide sooner to recognize you, +Judy, because if they had we wouldn’t have had +a single chair with a bottom left in it and the +hooked rugs your Grandmother Knight brought +to Kentucky would have been nothing but +holes,” declared Mrs. Buck. “I never saw so +much company in my born days and constant +setting wears out chairs and constant rocking +wears out rugs.</p> +<p>“I don’t say as it isn’t nice to have company. +I’ve been lonesome, in a way, all my life, because +my mother and father weren’t much hands +at mixing, feeling themselves to be kind of different +from the folks here in Kentucky, and +then I married young, and trouble came early, +and my poor dear husband’s father wasn’t the +kind to attract the kind of people my mother +felt were our equals—but now, sakes alive, +never a day passes but it isn’t cousin this and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_252' name='page_252'></a>252</span> +cousin that, coming to call or ringing the ’phone +or sending some kind of present to Miss Ann.</p> +<p>“What do they expect Miss Ann to do with +a bushel of winter onions and a barrel of potatoes +and a keg of cider and a barrel of flour and +six sides of bacon, two jowls and three hams, +besides two barrels of apples and a hind quarter +of the prettiest mutton I’ve seen for many +a day? This morning a truck drove up with +enough wood to last us half through the winter—the +best kind of oak and pine mixed and all +cut stove length ready for splitting. That old +Billy is mighty nice about splitting the wood +and bringing it in. He’s the most respectful +colored person I ever saw and the only one I’d +ever have around.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Buck paused for breath and then proceeded: +“While you were off teaching to-day +somebody Miss Ann called Cousin Betty +Throckmorton came to call and brought two +daughters and a grandchild. I was mighty +sorry for them to miss you and I told them so. +I think Mrs. Throckmorton rather thought I +ought to have said I was sorry for you to miss +her, but being as she had come to see you and +not you to see her and being as you are a sight +better looking than she is or her daughters or +the grandchild, I put it the other way. Anyhow, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_253' name='page_253'></a>253</span> +she was a very fine lady and couldn’t say +enough in praise of some of our furniture.</p> +<p>“She asked me where the secretary in the +parlor came from and when I told her it belonged +to my mother’s side of the house—the +Fairbankses—and came over on the third trip +of the Mayflower she said no doubt she and I +could claim relationship, as she, too, was a Fairbanks. +And then she said to Miss Ann that +people in the south paid so much more attention +to relationship than they did in the north and +no doubt she was as close to me as Miss Ann +was to you.</p> +<p>“Then I got out that book your Grandmother +Knight set such store by, with all of +her family written down in it and a picture of +the old original Fairbanks home, and Mrs. Throckmorton +nearly fell over herself reading +it and hunting out where she belonged in it +and finally she found her line and then, sure +enough, she and I are closer relations than you +and Miss Ann. Then she called me Cousin +Prudence and asked me to call her Cousin +Betty. I’m afraid I can never get the courage +to do that, but it does kind of tickle me for +them to be claiming relationship with me too. +We are the same folks we have always been.”</p> +<p>“So we are, Mumsy, but perhaps the other +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_254' name='page_254'></a>254</span> +fellow has had a change of heart. Does Cousin +Ann like having so many callers?”</p> +<p>“Indeed she does, and she never stops telling +them what a fine girl you are. Sometimes I +can’t believe she is really talking about my +little Judy, she makes you out so wonderful. +Mrs. Throckmorton—Cousin Betty—said she +had got a letter from Mrs. Robert Bucknor, +written from Monte Carlo, telling all about the +good times they are having. It seems that that +Mildred has caught a real beau. Cousin Betty’s +daughter said she hoped he’d be more faithful +than Tom Harbison, and Cousin Betty hushed +up. Evidently she didn’t want me to know +about Tom Harbison—not that I want to +know. This beau is a count and rich and middle +aged. It looks as though it might be a match. +All of the ladies, even Miss Ann, thought it +would be a good thing if Mildred married rich +and lived abroad. They didn’t want anything +but good fortune for her, but I could tell they’d +like to have her good fortune fall in foreign +parts.</p> +<p>“At first Miss Ann was right stand-offish +with Mrs. Throckmorton, but that lady went +right up to her and kissed her and said, ‘See +here, Cousin Ann, you might just as well be +glad to see me, because I am very glad to see +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_255' name='page_255'></a>255</span> +you, and to see you looking so well and so comfortable +and I’m also glad to see your pretty +white hair and to know you’ve got some legs.’ +And Miss Ann laughed and said, ‘Thank you, +Cousin Betty,’ and then they began to visit +as sweet as you please. Old Billy went out and +made the colored chauffeur go back and see his +house and of all the big talking you ever heard, +that old man did the biggest. I came back to +the pantry to get out a little wine and cake for +the company and I could hear him just holding +forth.”</p> +<p>“Poor old Uncle Billy! He is proud of +having a house,” laughed Judith. “His turkey +red curtains are up now and his geranium slips +started. He has put on a fresh coat of whitewash, +within and without, and his floor is +scrubbed so clean you could really make up +biscuit on it. It is gratifying, Mumsy, that we +have been able to make two old people as +happy as we have Cousin Ann and old Uncle +Billy. I only hope Cousin Ann doesn’t bother +you.”</p> +<p>“Lands sakes, child, she is a heap of company +for me and she is a great help. I don’t +see how such an old person can step around so +lively. She stirred up a cake this morning. +She says she has been clipping recipes out of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_256' name='page_256'></a>256</span> +newspapers for years and years but they have +always made company of her wherever she has +visited before and she has never been able to +try any of her recipes. Her cake has got a +little sad streak in it, owing to the fire getting +low while it was baking, but that wasn’t to say +her fault altogether, as I told her I’d look after +the fire while she picked out walnuts for the +icing.</p> +<p>“We had a right good time though while the +cake-making was going on and Mr. Big Josh +Bucknor came to pass the time of day. He +could not stop but a minute but he nearly split +his sides laughing at Miss Ann in a big apron, +turning her hand to cooking. She laughed, too, +and made as if she was going to hit him with +the rolling pin, like that woman in the newspaper +named Mrs. Jiggs. Mr. Big Josh +brought some fine fish as a present. He said +he’d been fishing and had caught more than he +could use.”</p> +<p>That evening, after the dishes were washed, +Judith, instead of beginning on the photographic +work as was her custom, sat silent with +folded hands, her head resting against the back +of the winged chair. Her eyes were closed and +her face was tense.</p> +<p>“Child, you look so tired,” said Miss Ann. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_257' name='page_257'></a>257</span> +“You do too much. I am afraid my being here +puts more on you than you can stand.”</p> +<p>In all her many decades of visiting, that +was the first time Miss Ann had ever suggested +to a hostess that she might be troublesome. +Judith insisted she was not tired and that Miss +Ann was a help and no trouble, but the old +lady could but see that there were violet shadows +under the girl’s eyes and that the contour +of her cheek was not so rounded as it had been +in the summer.</p> +<p>That night, when Billy came to her room to +see if she needed anything before retiring—an +unfailing custom of the old man—Miss +Ann was on the point of discussing with him +the evident fatigue of their beloved young +hostess, but before she could open the subject +Billy said:</p> +<p>“Miss Ann, I done got a big favor ter ax +you. I ain’t ’lowin’ ter imconvemience you +none, but I air gonter go on a little trip. It +air goin’ on ter fifty years sence I had a sho’ +’nuf holiday, bein’ as I ain’t never been ter +say free ter leave you when we’ve been a +visitin’ roun’, kase I been always kinder feard +you mought need ol’ Billy whilst you wa’n’t ter +say ’zactly at home, but somehows now you +seem ter kinder b’long here with Miss Judy an’ +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_258' name='page_258'></a>258</span> +her maw an’ my feets air been eatchin’ so much +lately th’ain’t nothin’ fer me ter do but follow +the signs an’ go on a trip.”</p> +<p>“But, Billy—” began Miss Ann.</p> +<p>“Yassum, I ain’t gonter be gone long. It +ain’t gonter be mo’n three or fo’ days, or maybe +five or six, but anyhow I’s gonter be back here +in three shakes er a dead sheep’s tail. I kin +see, as well as you kin, that Miss Judy air +kinder tuckered out what with teachin’ an’ +servin’ up them suppers to the street cyar men. +I’m a thinkin’ that when I goes on my trip I +mought fin’ a good cook ter holp Miss Judy +out. Her maw am p’intedly ’posed ter nigger +gals, but she ain’t called on ter be. Me’n you +knows by lookin’ on with one eye that Mrs. +Buck air mo’ hindrance than help ter Miss +Judy. You ain’t gonter put no bans on my +goin’ air you, Miss Ann? Looks like it ain’t +’zactly grabby fer me ter git a holiday onct +every fifty years.”</p> +<p>“Well, if—” Miss Ann tried again.</p> +<p>“Yassum, I done filled all the wood boxes in +the house an’ on the po’ch. I done split up +enough kindlin’ ter las’ a week. I done scrubbed +the kitchen an’ cleaned out the cow shed an’ +put fresh straw in Cupid and Puck’s stalls. I +done pick a tu’key fer Miss Judy an’ blacked +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_259' name='page_259'></a>259</span> +the stove. I ain’t lef nothin’ undone, an’ she +ain’t gonter have no trouble till ol’ Billy gits +back. I done already ax her what she thinks +’bout my goin’ on a trip an’ she say fer me ter +git a move on me ’kase I needs it an’ what’s +mo’ she done rooted out’n the attic a top coat +an’ a pair er boots an’ I’m a gonter go off +dressed up as good as a corpse.”</p> +<p>So Billy departed on his trip. When he had +been gone four days and no message from him +had come, Miss Ann was plainly a little uneasy +about the old man.</p> +<p>“You ain’t called on to be worried,” said +Mrs. Buck. “That old man can take care of +himself all right. I must say I never expected +the time to come when I’d confess to missing a +darkey, but Uncle Billy is a heap of help +around the place. He saves Judy a lot of +work—things she never would let me do. I +certainly hope nothing has happened to him.”</p> +<p>Nothing had—at least nothing that his mistress +or Mrs. Buck could have feared. When +Judith went to the kitchen on Sunday morning, +the one day she allowed herself to relax, she +found the fire crackling in the stove and the +kettle filled and ready to boil. Standing by +the table, rolling out biscuit, was a small, old +mulatto woman, wiry and erect. She was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_260' name='page_260'></a>260</span> +dressed in a stiff, purple calico dress and on her +head was a bandanna handkerchief, the ends tied +in front and standing up like rabbit ears.</p> +<p>Uncle Billy looked at Judith and grinned +sheepishly. “Miss Judy, this air Mandy!”</p> +<p>“How do you do, Aunt Mandy? I am so +glad you have come to help me. You have come +for that, have you not?”</p> +<p>The old woman continued to roll the dough +and cut out the biscuit with a brisk motion, at +the same time looking keenly at Judith.</p> +<p>“Yes, I reckon that’s what I come for +mostly, and at the same time I come somewhat +to be holped myself. As soon as I git these +here biscuits in the oven I’ll tell you what +Billy air too shamefaced to own up to.”</p> +<p>She whisked the biscuits into the oven and +then proceeded, “Billy air kinder new to this +business, but bein’ as it’s my fifth I’m kinder +used to it. Billy an’ me done got ma’id yesterday.”</p> +<p>“Got what?”</p> +<p>“Ma’id! I’m his wedded wife. He done +come down to Jefferson County courtin’, an’ +bein’ as I done buried my fo’th jes’ las’ year +I up’n says yes as quick as a flash. I reckon +Billy’s been ’lowin’ that so long as he couldn’t +be my fust, owin’ to delays an’ happenin’s, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_261' name='page_261'></a>261</span> +he’d make out to be my las’. I been kinder +expectin’ that Billy’d come along for fifty-odd +years an’ every time I’d git a chance to git +ma’id I’d kinder put it off, thinkin’ he mought +turn up, an’ every time I’d bury a husband +I’d say to myself, ‘Now maybe this time +Billy’ll be comin’ along.’ I been namin’ my +chilluns arfter him off an’ on. There’s Bill +an’ Billy an’ Bildad an’ William an’ Willy an’ +one er my gals is named Willymeeter. Of +course I knowed he wa’ kinder ’sponsible fer +Miss Ann, an’ I ain’t never blamed him none, +but I sho’ wa’ glad ter see him when he come +walkin’ in las’ Wednesday an’ jes’ tol’ me he +wa’ a needin’ me an’ he had a home er his own +with a po’ch an’ all. An’ so we got ma’id.”</p> +<p>Old Billy had realized his dream at last—a +house he could call his own, with a porch and +geraniums growing on it, and married to Mandy. +It mattered not to him that he was her fifth +venture in matrimony.</p> +<p>“Come next summer, we’ll have a box of +portulac a bloomin’ befo’ the house,” he said to +Judith. “I’m pretty nigh scairt ter be gittin’ +so many blessings ter onct. Sometimes I +kinder pinch myself ter see if I ain’t daid an’ +gone ter Heaben.”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_262' name='page_262'></a>262</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXV_UNCLE_BILLY_SMILES' id='CHAPTER_XXV_UNCLE_BILLY_SMILES'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXV</h2> +<h3>Uncle Billy Smiles</h3> +</div> +<p>Judith stood on the platform, swinging her +cooler of buttermilk as a signal to the six-thirty +trolley to stop and be fed. Thanks to the help +of Aunt Mandy and Uncle Billy she had been +able to furnish dinners to the motormen and +conductors all during the snows of winter and +the rains of spring. It was June again, and a +year since she began keeping what she called a +basket boarding-house. It had proved a +profitable business. At the same time she had +the undying gratitude and admiration of her +boarders.</p> +<p>The trolley stopped and eager hands relieved +her of the basket and cooler. A young man +swung from the platform of the rear car. Aunt +Mandy had fried the chicken and Judith had +not had to hurry to meet the six-thirty, so there +was no excuse for the heightened color of her +cheeks when she saw it was Jeff Bucknor.</p> +<p>“In time to carry your ‘empties’,” he said, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_263' name='page_263'></a>263</span> +taking the basket from her. “Are you glad +to see me?”</p> +<p>“Yes!”</p> +<p>“Very glad?”</p> +<p>“Yes, very glad!”</p> +<p>They followed the path through the beech +grove. “Can’t we sit down a minute?” begged +the young man. Judith complied. It was a +venerable tree that sheltered them, with dense +foliage on twisted limbs, the lower ones almost +touching the ground.</p> +<p>“I so often think of this tree and this mossy +bank,” said Jeff. “I have been wondering all +the way up from Louisville if you would sit +here with me a while.”</p> +<p>“You might have employed your time better.”</p> +<p>“Yes, I might have wondered what you were +giving the motormen for dinner. Judith, will +you do me a favor? Please put down that milk +can. I want to ask you something and I’d be +much happier and feel much safer if you’d let +the buttermilk can roll down the hill. There +now, that’s a good girl!” He gave the can a +push and it rolled away, with much banging and +jangling.</p> +<p>“First, let me ask your advice. The old men +of Ryeville have sent for me to come and talk +with them. It seems they want me to run for +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_264' name='page_264'></a>264</span> +the office of county attorney. They say they +are sure their candidate will be elected and I +believe they can control the politics of the +county from their hotel porch. I’ll accept their +proposition if you will tell me to.”</p> +<p>“Why should I decide?”</p> +<p>“Oh, Judith, can’t you see that life isn’t +worth living in Louisville or anywhere else if +you are not with me? I have been loving you +from the minute I first saw you standing on +the platform swinging your milk can. In fact, +I believe I have been loving you from the time +I saw you on the trolley that day I got back +home. Why I didn’t love you when you were +such a spunky little kid, tramping around peddling +fish and rabbits and blackberries, I don’t +know. I must have been a blind fool or I would +have. Anyhow, I love the memory of you when +you were a little girl. Can’t you care for me +a little, Judith?”</p> +<p>“I believe I can.”</p> +<p>“And you won’t mind putting the <i>nor</i> back +on your name?”</p> +<p>“No, Jeff. I won’t mind.”</p> +<p>Long the lovers sat under the great tree. +The seven o’clock trolley whistled for the next +to the last stop, but Jeff and Judith did not +hear it. Fortunately for the hungry men, Uncle +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_265' name='page_265'></a>265</span> +Billy had seen from afar the young people +seeking the shade of the beech grove and when +Judith did not return to the house he had +astutely reasoned that matters of import were +detaining her.</p> +<p>“Here, Mandy, give me that there basket er +victuals an’ I’ll make tracks fer the platform. +Miss Judy an’ Marse Jeff air a co’tin’ an’ +when folks air a co’tin’ time ain’t mo’n the win’ +blowin’.”</p> +<p>Miss Ann received the news of the engagement +with happy tears and Mrs. Buck said +that it was Judith’s business and she had always +known what she wanted from the time she was +born. If she wanted Jeff Bucknor, Mrs. Buck +reckoned it was all right. He seemed a likely +enough young man, but she hoped he knew how +to save, because Judith did not.</p> +<p>The old men of Ryeville were satisfied when +Jeff Bucknor told them he would run for the +office of county attorney if they so wished it. +At the same time he broke to them the news of +his engagement. The veterans exchanged sly +glances and laughed delightedly. Little did the +young man dream that they had planned this +political coup for the sole purpose of bringing +to the county the person they considered the +most suitable as a husband for their protege. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_266' name='page_266'></a>266</span></p> +<p>“It was my idee, my idee!” Pete Barnes +declared.</p> +<p>The happiest of all the friends of the young +couple was old Billy.</p> +<p>“Marse Jeff done tol’ me Miss Ann wa’n’t +never ter want an’ now, bless Bob, he’s gonter +come an’ live with us-alls an’ look arfter the +whole bilin’. I sho’ air glad he’s gonter come +here instead er us havin’ ter pick up an’ go +wharever he is. The portulac air comin’ up +so pretty in my box an’ my jewraniums air +a bloomin’, an’ I done made Mandy one willin’ +husband, an’ Miss Ann air so brisk an’ happy +it would go hard on us all ter have ter be +movin’. A ol’ hen air took ter settin’ in the +ca’ige which makes it seem moughty homified. +I’d sho’ be proud ter think me’n Miss Ann +could live ter see the day that little chilluns +would be playin’ stage coach an’ injun in Miss +Ann’s ol’ rockaway.”</p> + +<!-- generated by ppg.rb version: 0.21 --> +<!-- timestamp: Sat Mar 28 20:29:27 -0600 2009 --> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Comings of Cousin Ann, by Emma Speed Sampson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COMINGS OF COUSIN ANN *** + +***** This file should be named 28439-h.htm or 28439-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/4/3/28439/ + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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