Part 6

"And the next thing you got a bound to have is a woman can sew and weave and spin, same as Mallie, and keep coats and blankets for you and your young-uns. Now one of them head-women--Amy is her name--is the sewingest woman ever I seed, besides the ladyest; why, she's even got Fulty and his wild crowd of boys a-hemming handkerchers and towels up yander every day, and she has already axed me to larn her how to weave and spin. She'd be the woman for you, Jeems, if you could get her--either her, or t'other head one, Virginny, which is the up-and-comingest female ever I laid an eye on, and don't baulk at nothing on earth. And then, of course, the nurse-woman, she'd be mighty handy when the young-uns all takes down sick with the choking disease, or the breast-complaint, or sech; or likewise that one that teaches the least ones, and keeps about fifty of 'em happy and biddable all the time. You couldn't make no mistake, whichever of them four you tuck, Jeems."

Jeems meditated a moment, then said, with a deep groan: "One thing you left out, Aunt Ailsie, and seems like hit's the one I set the most store by of all. I want me a woman knows how to milk good, and handle cow-brutes. Hit appears like I could have stood up under all the rest, but for them devils of cow-brutes on my hands, that gets mad whenever I come a-nigh 'em, just because I am a man-person, and upsets the bucket, and holds up their milk, and kicks me in the shins, and does their almightiest to aggravate and destroy me, till my gorge rises up at the very thoughts of 'em. Yes, Aunt Ailsie, I want me a woman can milk, if she can't do nothing else. Now, Cindy, hit was a sight--"

"Sartain you do, Jeems," interrupted Aunt Ailsie; "but there hain't no needcessity in the world to bother about that. _Any_ woman anywheres can milk,--hit's woman's _nature_ to,--and I allow every single one of them fotched-on women is the finest milkers ever was; they so smart any way you take 'em.

"But listen, Jeems,"--and there was a sudden, inspired gleam in her eye,--"if that's what you set the most store by, me 'n' Lot is a-lending a cow to them women this very day,--the pieded heifer,--and Fulty is a-coming to drive her in atter dinner. And I never allowed to let you go in where them women was till you had got you another night of sleep. But sarcumstances changes plans, and I don't know but what hit might be better for you to go in with Fulty this evening, unbeknownst to the women, and kindly take a gineral view, and spy out the land, so to speak, and see for yourself who is the ablest milker; and then come back and sleep on hit to-night; and then to-morrow you and me will go in and take the day,--I was a-going in anyhow to start on my A B C's,--and I'll fix a way so's you'll get a chanct to court the one you pick out--I allus was the most contrivingest woman you ever seed. And if all goes well, as hit sartainly will, you'll ride home a-Sunday with your wife behind you, and likewise all your troubles and trials."

Jeems agreed that the plan was a good one; indeed, he began to wake up and be quite keen on the scent; so much so that Aunt Ailsie felt impelled to drop a few more words of wisdom.

"Of course, I know a man's nature, and in partic'lar a widow-man's, is to run atter the youngest and foolishest female that crosses his trail, with nary thought for his orphant offsprings, or his own welfare. But take the counsel of one that has lived long and seed much and thinks a sight of you, Jeems, and pick you out a good, old, settled woman, nigh of an age with you, that's got more, or anyway as much, on the inside of her head-piece as the outside, and will be a right step-maw and helpmeet. Twenty-eight is terrible old, I know, most women being nigh-grandmaws by then; but I give you my hand, Jeems, them two head-women, Amy and Virginny, is the deceivingest in their looks ever you seed, and don't ary one of 'em look hardly twenty; hit's a pure myxtery how old women like them can keep sech a fair, tender skin, and rosy jaws, and shiny hair, and white teeth.

"And another thing for you to bear in mind constant, Jeems, is that no young gal, with a-plenty of chances ahead of her, wouldn't take a second look at a old widow-man with nine orphant young-uns. No, a woman would have to be pretty far along on the cull-list before she'd even think of tying up with a man in your condition. Facts is facts, Jeems, and ought to be looked full in the eye."

Uncle Lot stepped in just then, and the subject was, of necessity, dropped. Jeems ate a ravenous dinner, and with every bite courage and manhood seemed to grow within him.

Not long after dinner, Fult appeared, as he had promised. Aunt Ailsie went to the pasture-bars with him to get the pieded heifer. Seeing an unwonted light in his handsome eyes, she inquired: "What's come to you, Fulty--what's happened?"

"Oh, nothing," replied Fult, carelessly. "I found that air singer this morning, down Troublesome, setting in Uncle Adam's wagon, stalled in a quick, and brung her up behind me to the women."

"Is she an old maid, too?"

"No," answered Fult, indignantly.

"How old is she?"

"I never axed her; but she looks about sixteen."

"Is she a pretty looker?"

"Prettiest you ever seed," declared Fult with feeling.

"Prettier than Lethie?"

Fult flushed. "She's different," he said. "And sing! I never in life heared the like?"

"I'll be bound she can't outsing me when I were young," said Aunt Ailsie, jealously.

"Maybe not," replied Fult; "I never heared you then. I told her about you, and she wants to hear you."

When Fult and Jeems were mounted, and ready to start with the heifer, Aunt Ailsie gazed with pride upon her handiwork. Jeems made quite a presentable appearance. True, a collar and tie would have improved the effect; but such vanities were only for dashing young blades like Fult, not for old, settled, married- or widow-men.

After they had started. Aunt Ailsie called Jeems back for a last anxious word.

"Mind now," she said, "not to get your thoughts tangled up with no young gals you may see there. One's jest come in this morning from the level land. Ricollect, they hain't for sech as you. Keep your mind fixed stiddy on what you're a-going atter, and don't get witched off by no young face with naught behind hit."

* * * * *

When they arrived at the tents, the heifer was received with warm appreciation by two of the women, whom Jeems judged to be the heads, though they were astonishingly fair and rosy and young and neatly dressed, to have reached the ancient age of twenty-eight. From a safe distance in the background, Jeems inspected each, narrowly and appraisingly. When the heifer had been anchored to a tree, one of the women returned to a group of old people she appeared to be teaching, near by, and the other settled down to letter-writing under a more distant tree. Fult had hurried up-hill, and Jeems slowly followed, gazing with solemn, owlish eyes upon all the strange things and people he saw.

The lowest tents were deserted, but in the larger, gayly decorated one farther up, two or three dozen mothers, with babies, were gathered, and the nurse was giving a talk on the care of infants, using one in her demonstration. She was giving it a warm bath when Jeems peered into the tent. He was at once transfixed.

"That air woman knows how to handle a young-un," he said to himself, after watching the proceedings for some time, "and is a good looker, too."

No mother present could have been more appreciative of the deft ways of the nurse than was Jeems, out of the fullness of his own experience.

After this was over, he went on to the top of the spur, where the young folks of different ages were gathered, in several large groups and circles, playing games. In the largest circle, where the young men and maidens were playing "Old Bald Eagle," a game that was a combination of quadrille and Virginia reel, with a song accompaniment, Fult was leading, and his partner was a young and extremely pretty stranger, at the sight of whom Jeems stopped stone-still and gazed with all his eyes. Aunt Ailsie's warning came to him with a pang after a while: "Ricollect, sech as that hain't for you." He sighed deeply, and felt a dull anger with Fult's youth and beauty.

Still another very young and pretty one--the one with the "crow's-wing hair and blue eyes"--sat on a bench not far away; but Darcy Kent was at her side.

After a long while, the play-games stopped, and the merry crowd trooped down the hill and home--all save Fult and a few of his cronies, who stopped at the big tent, where Fult was soon picking a banjo and singing ballads for the stranger. Jeems leaned against a tree-trunk outside, and waited for the fateful hour of milking to arrive.

Finally, an anxious call came from below for Fult, and all in the tent went down, Jeems following at a little distance. Fult joined the group of women behind the cooking-tent. When Jeems arrived, he saw that they were gathered anxiously about the heifer. One of them, Virginia, was saying to Fult:--

"But how are we going to get her milked?"

Fult shook his head. "I allowed, and granny allowed, all you women could milk--all the women-folks in this country can."

"Milk? Why, I never did such a thing in my life! Down in the Blue Grass the women don't milk; the men do all the heavy work like that."

Jeems stopped in his tracks. His jaw dropped.

"I thought maybe you could milk her for us to-night, and until we could hire somebody for the job," continued Virginia, a little impatiently.

Fult flushed. "Sorry I can't oblige you," he said; "I never in life undertook to milk a cow. Up in this country hit's allus a woman's job."

"Do you mean to say you let your mother and sisters do rough work like milking all the time?"

Fult laughed. "Maw wouldn't let me get in ten foot of her cow," he said. "Cows won't stand for hit in this country. They are used to women-folks and their ways, and don't want a man to come a-nigh 'em."

"Hit's a fact," groaned Jeems inwardly, from the depths of experience.

"You women know there hain't nothing I wouldn't do to pleasure you," continued Fult, gallantly. "If I knowed how to milk, I'd try hit, man's job or not. But a body can't learn all in a minute."

"They can't, neither," protested Jeems, under his breath.

"Can't a single one of you brought-on women milk a cow?" inquired Fult, looking in astonishment around the circle.

One after another, Amy, the nurse, the kindergartner, the cooking teacher, the singing gal, admitted her ignorance. None had ever in her life tried to milk.

Jeems's jaw was now permanently dropped, his eyes stared with amazed incredulity.

"And even if some of them could milk," said Virginia, with a note of decision in her soft voice, "I shouldn't feel that I could permit them to do it. It's setting too bad an example. The thought of the women of this country doing all the milking shocks me inexpressibly, and one of the principal things I hope to teach them is that milking is _not_ a woman's job, and should be done always and entirely by the men."

Jeems's countenance registered complete horror.

At this instant, Isabel, the new arrival, spoke up. "The cow will have to be milked to-night by somebody," she said; "and though I never milked in my life, and do not approve of women milking, still I'd be glad to try this time, if you say so, Cousin Amy, and Miss Virginia. Of course, I live on a stock-farm,--papa has always raised thoroughbred horses and cattle,--and I've seen cows milked by the negro men thousands of times, and it does seem that I ought to be able to do it myself. If you'll give me a bucket, I'll be glad to try."

Virginia shook her head. "I don't consider it wise," she said; "it's setting too bad a precedent."

"I believe I'd let her do it just this once, as it's an emergency," suggested Amy, in her quiet way.

"Well, maybe for just this once," Virginia grudgingly consented.

A shining bucket was produced, and Isabel stepped toward the heifer. Jeems's face was once more transformed, irradiated.

"Now you hold her," said Isabel to Fult. "Not that I'm a bit afraid. I can ride any horse I ever saw; but I'm not so used to cows."

She approached carefully, spoke to the heifer, rubbed down her flank, and at last gently grasped a teat. This she squeezed periodically and persistently for a long while. Not a drop of milk appeared.

"Why, there's something the matter with this cow," she said at last. "I believe she's a dry one."

"No, granny said she was giving three straight gallons a day right along," said Fult; "and to not fail to milk her a single time."

Isabel tried another teat, then conscientiously made the rounds of all.

"Maybe she's just too excited to have any milk to-day," said Virginia. "I've heard that cows are extremely nervous creatures."

"Yes, that must be it," said Isabel. At last she rose, reluctant to give up, but forced to admit that she could do nothing.

Jeems's expression was now one of utter bewilderment. But he was ready to accept the explanation offered--a cow-brute was equal to anything.

A small boy of eleven or twelve, who had been standing near all the time, digging his toes into the earth, spoke up laconically.

"Anybody with eyes could see she's got milk."

"Well, how can you tell, Billy?" asked Virginia.

"Because I know cows. I've holp maw milk a many of a time, and Lethie, too. I don't care if hit hain't a man's job, I've holp 'em when they was sick or busy. Here, you fotched-on women don't know nothing; gimme that air bucket, and a apern and sunbonnet, and I'll show you. Of course, she wouldn't lemme come a-nigh her in breeches."

The nurse lent her large apron, Amy her white sunbonnet, and Billy, retiring to the cooking-tent to put them on, soon emerged, hit the cow a sharp lick on the hip, bawled "Saw!" half a dozen times, squatted down, put out small dirty hands, and in an instant two large jets of milk were foaming into the pail.

"I knowed hit," commented Billy, scornfully; "I got my opinion of a passel of women that hain't able to milk a cow betwixt 'em!"

The women looked on in solemn relief.

And Jeems? He swept the six strange women with a slow glance, in which indignation, disgust, and anguish struggled for supremacy; then, turning on his heel, strode rapidly down the hill.

"Not nary one of 'em able to milk a cow!" he exclaimed to himself over and over, as he descended; and later, as he rode down Troublesome: "Not nary single one! Not even," with a groan, "that air youngest and prettiest!"

It was supper-time when he arrived, and Uncle Lot being present, there was no chance for Aunt Ailsie to ask the reason of his profound melancholy, which, however, was so noticeable that, when she started to milk after supper, she called to him to go with her.

"What in creation's the matter with you, Jeems?" she demanded. "You look like you had seed a hant!"

"I've seed worse'n a hant, Aunt Ailsie," he said, with awful solemnity: "I've seed six able-bodied women, not nary one of which is able to milk a cow-brute!"

Aunt Ailsie dropped her bucket. "Jeems!" she said, "you know hit hain't the truth!"

"Hit's the truth, too," he replied, sternly. "When milking-time come, not nary one of 'em would even try but one,--that air newest and youngest,--and she couldn't squeeze out a drap! And then a leetle chap that was hanging around, he sot down and milked out a bucketful easy as scat!"

Aunt Ailsie picked the bucket up, and stood by the bars, speechless.

"I never once thought but what every woman on that hill was a able milker," she said at last. "But look-a-here, Jeems, all hope hain't yet gone; they would any or all larn to milk if needcessity come--say if any of 'em was to marry a widow-man!"

Jeems shook his head most emphatically. "They wouldn't, neither," he said. "Them women all allowed hit was a man's job, not a woman's, to milk a cow-brute; and one of them head-women said she was aiming to teach all the women-folks in this here country not to milk nary 'nother time theirselves, but to make the men-folks do hit allus."

Jeems's voice broke on the utterance of this frightful heresy, and Aunt Ailsie herself was entirely beyond speech.

After a long while she recovered herself, and laid down the bars. "Well, hit jest wa'n't to be, Jeems," she said; "hit just wa'n't predestyned for you to get you a fotched-on woman. I don't know but what, if I was you, I'd court that air widow-woman, Cindy Swope. Her six and your nine, with maybe seven or eight more to foller, will be kindly a stumbling-block; but if she can quell both young-uns and cow-brutes, like you say, numbers won't make no p'ticlar difference--you'll still have peace in your home. I reckon hit's the best all round, Jeems; though I feel mighty onreconciled, atter all the big plans I laid for you. You hain't the first man to look furder and fare worse."

She threw half a dozen nubbins to Old Pied, sat down on the small three-legged stool, and began to milk, vigorously but pensively.

Jeems gazed down upon her, with healing and comfort stealing over every torn and jangled nerve.

"Man's job, indeed!" he said to himself, scornfully; "Cindy hain't got no sech crazy notions!"

VI

DEVIL'S DITTIES

The day following the widow-man's disastrous visit to the women on the hill, Aunt Ailsie came in, as she had planned, to get her first taste of learning. She had also planned, of course, to bring Jeems in and engineer his courting; and her disappointment was keen as she rode along on old Darb, meditating pensively upon the tragedy of the day before.

"They throwed away as good a chanct as ary old maid could look to have, and all because not a single one of 'em was able to milk a cow. I'm clean out of heart, and hain't aiming to trouble my mind to hunt up nary 'nother husband for 'em. Hit wouldn't be no use if I did, there not being a living man in this country would marry a woman that can't milk. May be that's the reason they hain't kotched 'em a man down in the level land."

Before Aunt Ailsie reached the tents on the hill, she saw her "pieded" heifer picking around up near the timber line, and sighed deeply.

"Pore creetur, I'd never a-lent you to 'em if I had knowed; hit'll be your ruination having that air little Billy Lee feisting round you."

When she reached the tents, the cooking class was over, as was also the sewing lesson, and the singing was just beginning in the largest tent, where even more young folks than usual were gathered.

Amy was playing the baby organ, but Virginia, who stood near her, straightening up the book-shelves, saw Aunt Ailsie and beckoned for her. As she approached the two, she sighed deeply again.

"Pore gals, they don't know what they missed yesterday; they don't know how nigh they come to being tuck off the cull-list!"

Her attention was immediately drawn from them to the newcomer of whom Fult had spoken the day before--a lovely young girl who led the singing, and sang as spontaneously and joyously as a mocking-bird, and whose example was contagious, for the more timid young people, who had sung haltingly before, now poured their whole souls into the delight of it. Fult's voice was the best among the young men, and blended well with that of the new singer.

Aunt Ailsie sat down on a bench and listened, somewhat critically, for half an hour. "Fulty was right," she said to herself then, "she can outsing me when I was a young gal. But I misdoubt if she knows as many song-ballats as I knowed."

There was so much enthusiasm that the usual half-hour of singing lengthened into an hour, and was ended only by the ringing of the dinner-bell below.

"We're so glad you came," said Amy, as the two started down the hill; "we want to tell you how very grateful we are for the cow."

"Yes," said Virginia, joining them; "nothing could be a greater blessing to us."

"I heared not nary one of you was able to milk her," said Aunt Ailsie; and she could not keep all reproach out of her voice.

"No, but Billy Lee can, and we've hired him to do it regularly, and the milk is delicious, and we've bought us a churn this morning."

"She's a right cow," said Aunt Ailsie; "but"--solemnly--"hit takes a woman-person to get the best out of a cow." She sighed deeply. "But, women, that's neither here nor yander now; what I come for to-day was to tell you my man has give his consent for me to get larning--enough, anyhow, to read Scripter, though no more."

"Oh, we're so glad for you--you must have your first lesson right after dinner."

"That's what I aim to; 'pears like I can't hardly wait to begin."

Just then Fult came up behind and laid a detaining hand on Aunt Ailsie's arm. "Stop a minute, granny--here's somebody craves to meet you."

Aunt Ailsie fell back behind the others. "Oh, the singing gal!" she exclaimed, looking for a long minute into Isabel's face, then turning her around for a rear view, and summing up the inventory with "Now, hain't she pretty as a poppet!"

Fult's eyes expressed concurrence.

"What's your name, daughtie?"

"Isabel Gwynne."

"How old air you?"

"Twenty."

"You don't look hit. You hain't got ary man yet, I allow?"

"No."

"Well, praise the Lord there's one amongst the quare women hain't a old maid! You got a whole year to go on yet, and, judging by your looks, you'll likely land a man before hit's over. I heared you sing this morning, and hit was fine. I follered singing myself when I were young."

"Yes, Mr. Fallon told me about it; he said you used to be able to sing ballads the night through, and never repeat yourself."

"Eh law, yes."

"And that you taught him those he knows. He has sung two or three for me, and I'm crazy about them, and can hardly wait to hear more. I hoped maybe you might sing for me this afternoon."

Aunt Ailsie drew back, with a frightened expression. "My fathers!" she said; "hit would be as much as my life is worth to sing song-ballats in public this way; my man can't abide 'em sence he j'ined; he allows they are devil's ditties, and won't have one raised under his roof."

"But this isn't his roof," laughed Isabel, glancing up at the sky.

"Eh law, when Lot says roof, he means anybody belongs under his roof. If I was to sing on this here hill, the news would travel over the county in less time than hit takes to tell hit, and Lot would be everly scandalized amongst the Old Primitives, and the sky would nigh fall. Now, though I hain't the songster I used to be, I _feel_ to sing for you. I love hit better'n life, seems like. But a woman don't dairst to fly right pine-blank in the face of Scripter and disobey her husband!"

"No, I suppose not," admitted Isabel; "but how did you teach Mr. Fallon?"

Aunt Ailsie leaned forward and spoke in Isabel's ear. "I done hit unbeknownst!" she said: "I tuck Fulty up on top the ridge, and a leetle yan side, where no human couldn't hear, and my man couldn't noway be scandalized!"

"Well, why not take me up sometime, too?"

Aunt Ailsie gazed at the singing gal with dilating eyes. "I'll do hit, I shorely will," she declared. Then she continued, in a conspirator's voice: "We'll have to bide our time till Lot goes to a far funeral occasion, and can't get back afore night. Funeral meetings is setting in, now the crap's laid by; I heared Lot say several was denounced a-Sunday at a nigh one he went to. He'd ruther die as to miss one,--funeral meetings is his delight, same as song-ballats is mine,--and I'll listen round and find out when a far one is aiming to be, and get the word to Fulty, and Fulty can fetch you down to take the day, and then we'll have a singing time, up on the ridge."

Fult and Isabel entered joyfully into the conspiracy, and then all three went down, Isabel and Aunt Ailsie to the women's dinner-table, Fult to the hotel below.