Gabriel Tolliver. Joel Chandler Harris

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СКАЧАТЬ some un to give out the lines, I'd cut loose and sing a hime. Yes, sirs! you'd see me break out an' howl jest like my old coon dog, Louder, used to do when he struck a hot track. The Lord has picked us out of the crowd, Frank, an' holp us along at every turn an' crossin'. But before the week's out, we'll forgit to be thankful. J'inin' the church wouldn't do us a grain of good. By next Sunday week, Frank, you'll be struttin' around as proud as a turkey gobbler, an' you'll git wuss an' wuss less'n Nan takes a notion for to frail you out ag'in."

      Bethune relished the remark so little that he chirped to the mules, but Mr. Sanders seized the reins in his own hands. "We've fit an' we've fout, an' we've got knocked out," he went on, "an' now, here we are ready for to take a fresh start. The Lord send that it's the right start." He would have driven on, but at that moment, a shabby looking vehicle drew up alongside the waggon. Gabriel and Cephas knew at once that the outfit belonged to Mr. Goodlett. His mismatched team consisted of a very large horse and a very small mule, both of them veterans of the war. They had been left by the Federals in a broken-down condition, and Mr. Goodlett found them grazing about, trying to pick up a living. He appropriated them, fed them well, and was now utilising them not only for farm purposes, but for conveying stray travellers to and from Malvern, earning in this way many a dollar that would have gone elsewhere.

      Mr. Goodlett drew rein when he saw Mr. Sanders and Francis Bethune, and gave them as cordial a greeting as he could, for he was a very undemonstrative and reticent man. At that time both Gabriel and Cephas thought he was both sour and surly, but, in the course of events, their opinions in regard to that and a great many other matters underwent a considerable change.

CHAPTER FOUR

       Table of Contents

Mr. Goodlett's Passengers

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      The vehicle that Mr. Goodlett was driving was an old hack that had been used for long years to ply between Shady Dale and Malvern. On this occasion, Mr. Goodlett had for his passengers a lady and a young woman apparently about Nan's age. There was such a contrast between the two that Gabriel became absorbed in contemplating them; so much so that he failed to hear the greetings that passed between Mr. Goodlett and Mr. Sanders, who were old-time friends. The elder of the two women was emaciated to a degree, and her face was pale to the point of ghastliness; but in spite of her apparent weakness, there was an ease and a refinement in her manner, a repose and a self-possession that reminded Gabriel of his grandmother, when she was receiving the fine ladies from a distance who sometimes called on her. The younger of the two women, on the other hand, was the picture of health. The buoyancy of youth possessed her. She had an eager, impatient way of handling her fan and handkerchief, and there was a twinkle in her eye that spoke of humour; but her glance never fell directly on the men in the waggon; all her attention was for the invalid.

      Mr. Goodlett, his greeting over, was for pushing on, but the voice of the invalid detained him. "Can you tell me," she said, turning to Mr. Sanders, "whether the Gaither Place is occupied? Oh, but I forgot; you are just returning from that horrible, horrible war." She had lifted herself from a reclining position, but fell back hopelessly.

      "Why, Ab thar ought to be able to tell you that," responded Mr. Sanders, his voice full of sympathy.

      "Well, I jest ain't," declared Mr. Goodlett, with some show of impatience. "I tell you, William, I been so worried an' flurried, an' so disqualified an' mortified, an' so het up wi' fust one thing an' then another, that I ain't skacely had time for to scratch myself on the eatchin' places, much less gittin' up all times er night for to see ef the Gaither Place is got folks or ha'nts in it. When you've been through what I have, William, you won't come a-axin' me ef the Gaither house is whar it mought be, or whar it oughter be, or ef it's popylated or dispopylated."

      The young lady stroked the invalid's hand and smiled. Something in the frowning face and fractious tone of the old man evidently appealed to her sense of humour. "Don't you think it is absurd," said the pale lady, again appealing to Mr. Sanders, "that a person should live in so small a town, and not know whether one of the largest houses in the place is occupied—a house that belongs to a family that used to be one of the most prominent of the county? Why, of course it is absurd. There is something uncanny about it. I haven't had such a shock in many a day."

      "But, mother," protested the young lady, "why worry about it? A great many strange things have happened to us, and this is the least important of all."

      "Why, dearest, this is the strangest of all strange things. The driver here says he lives at Dorringtons', and the Gaither house is not so very far from Dorringtons'."

      "Everybody knows," said Gabriel, "that Miss Polly Gaither lives in the Gaither house." He spoke before he was aware, and began to blush. Whereupon the young lady gave him a very bright smile.

      "Humph!" grunted Mr. Goodlett, giving the lad a severe look. He started to climb into his seat, but turned to Gabriel. "Is she got a wen?" he asked, with something like a scowl.

      "Yes, she has a wen," replied the lad, blushing again, but this time for Mr. Goodlett.

      "Well, then, ef she's got a wen, ef Polly Gaithers is got a wen, she's livin' in that house, bekaze, no longer'n last Sat'day, she come roun' for to borry some meal; an' whatsomever she use to have, an' whatsomever she mought have herearter, she's got a wen now, an' I'll tell you so on a stack of Bibles as high as the court-house."

      The young lady laughed, but immediately controlled herself with a half-petulant "Oh dear!" Laughter became her well, for it smoothed away a little frown of perplexity that had established itself between her eyebrows.

      "Oh, we'll take the young man's word for it," said the invalid, "and we are very much obliged to him. What is your name?" When Gabriel had told her, she repeated the name over again. "I used to know your grandmother very well," she said. "Tell her Margaret Bridalbin has returned home, and would be delighted to see her."

      "Then, ma'am, you must be Margaret Gaither," remarked Mr. Sanders.

      "Yes, I was Margaret Gaither," replied the invalid. "I used to know you very well, Mr. Sanders, and if I had changed as little as you have, I could still boast of my beauty."

      "Yet nobody hears me braggin' of mine, Margaret," said Mr. Sanders with a smile that found its reflection in the daughter's face; "but I hope from my heart that home an' old friends will be a good physic for you, an' git you to braggin' ag'in. Anyhow, ef you don't brag on yourself, you can take up a good part of the time braggin' on your daughter."

      "Oh, thank you, sir, for the clever joke. My mother has told me long ago how full of fun you are," said the young lady, blushing sufficiently to show that she did not regard the compliment as altogether a joke. "You may drive on now," she remarked to Mr. Goodlett. Whereupon that surly-looking veteran slapped his mismatched team with the loose ends of the reins, and the shabby old hack moved off toward Shady Dale. Mr. Sanders waited for the vehicle to get some distance ahead, and then he too urged his team forward.

      "The word is Home," he said; "I reckon Margaret has had her sheer of trouble, an' a few slices more. She made her own bed, as the sayin' is, an' now she's layin' on it. Well, well, well! when time an' occasions take arter you, it ain't no use to run; you mought jest as well set right flat on the ground an' see what they've got ag'in you."

      The remark was not original, nor very deep, but it recurred to Gabriel when trouble plucked at his own sleeve, or when he saw СКАЧАТЬ