Sol's wife, Aphrodite, is a specimen of maternal health and vigor.
Sol's wife, Aphrodite, is a specimen of maternal health and vigor.
December 13.
Yesterday, driving out, I saw a raft of very fine poplar logs being made down by the bridge in the creek, and this morningI walked out to see whose logs they were. I have on my woodland across the creek some very beautiful poplars, some of them about three feet in diameter at the base. I have several times been offered a price for them, but have always answered: "When I am in need of bread I will sell those trees, but not before." Now I feared some one might have cut them, hence my desire to inquire about the raft.
I saw a raft of very fine poplar logs being made.
I saw a raft of very fine poplar logs being made.
I found Jack and Monday at work on the raft, which was composed of splendid pine as well as poplar logs. Both of these men had belonged to my father and now own farms and woodland of their own about two miles away. They assured me the logs all came from their own land and had been hauled with their own ox teams. I complimented them on the size and beauty of the poplar, and just at that moment Daniel, another one of our former people, now a prosperous landowner, came by in his canoe, and I took passage with him upthe creek to my woodland, as I wanted to make sure that my poplars were still standing.
As I got out at the landing I offered to pay him, but he said: "Oh, no, Miss; you don't owe me a cent. I was just on my way home, and I'm glad to have de chance to do it for you."
I thanked him suitably for his pleasant feeling. At the landing there was a raft tied of very large logs. I asked Daniel whose it was and he said it belonged to Frank and Logan, who were cutting on my land. I was greatly shocked. Logan is the son of one of my father's most trusted servants who died a few years ago leaving eight sons and three daughters grown up and married. He was a first class engineer and blacksmith and could be counted upon always to do faithful, good work. His sons had most of them followed his trade after a fashion, and all of them had what is now called education (without, however, any training) and are smart men; but not one of them has the character, the thoroughness, the reliability, of the old man, who could neither read nor write, but who had been trained to do one thing as well as it could be done.
The sons have, one by one, left my service to go where there was more demand for their work and more pay, but a kindly feeling has remained between us. They are all prosperous, living on farms of their own.
Some months ago Logan brought Frank, a stranger to me, to ask to handle the fallen pine trees on my land and give me one-third of the proceeds. They said they had fine ox teams and each had a logging cart and were fixed for the business. After thinking over it a while I consented, for I had been over the land and knew that there were many fine large trees blown down by the storm which would only rot on the ground if I refused, for I had no reliable hands to get them to market myself. I made them sign a paper saying they were to cutno trees, only to take the prostrate pine, and was quite pleased when the arrangement was completed.
The results had disappointed me, being much less than I had supposed they would be. Every now and then they brought me $8, with account of a raft in Captain L.'s hand-writing showing the amount of my third, and I had been suspecting that they were carrying many rafts to Gregory and selling them on their own account, not giving me the third, but I did not see how I could find out the truth. They had come to me in the winter to ask permission to "dead" some cypress. This means to ring the cypress so as to kill it, otherwise it cannot be handled; it will not float if green.
Cypress trees.
Cypress trees.
I refused to give permission for this, and a short time afterward they asked to be allowed to cut some poplar. This I forbade with horror, and they went away. Now the sight of this raft made me understand of what treachery they had been guilty toward my trees.
I counted the logs—twenty pine, four cypress, and two poplar; then I walked out into the woods and soon came upon Logan with his team hauling a splendid log and Frank not far behind with another. Just for a moment, as I stood waiting for them to come up, it flashed through my mind what a rash thing perhaps I was doing, as both of these men are rather ugly tempered. I had sent Daniel off with his boat, thinking some one might come along the creek by the time I was ready to go back. No one at the house had the least idea where I was, for I had not intended making this extended trip when I left.
When the men came up I taxed them with having done what I had expressly forbidden them to do. At first they were disposed to be rude and answered roughly, but I went on very quietly, using all the self-control possible, to tell them that they had violated their contract and put themselves entirely in my power; that I needed no witnesses, for my own eyes had seen what they were doing. Gradually their whole manner changed. One hat went off and then the other and Logan came a step or two nearer, and with a most dramatic air of humility and penitence said:—
"Miss, you right; en we cry guilty, guilty! We own um, we's guilty, en you know, miss, w'en a man stan' 'e trial een de co't, en dat man cry guilty, de jedge don' put de law so heaby to um. We dun wrong, miss; we egkno'ledge we sin, en we pleads yo' mussy!"
I was completely taken aback. I was prepared for anything but this, and I had no idea what to say in my surprise. While I considered they stood with bowed heads, eyes fixed on the ground, and every air of complete surrender. I was disarmed, and of course did not follow up my victory as I should. I gave them a little discourse on judgment and mercy and on the awful sin of deceiving and taking advantage of one who had trusted one. Then I told them they could take the timber they had cut and hauled, to market and give me half instead of one-third, and that after selling these logs they must not touch a stick of timber of any kind again.
With expressions of profound thanks they led the way down to the swamp as I told them to do, and showed me all the trees they had cut. It was heartrending to see the havoc they had wrought, and which nothing could undo. It took away my breath almost for a time, and I felt almost as though I had been wrong not to proceed against these men and have them brought to justice. I knew perfectly I would get no money to speak of from them.
It is impossible for me to watch the woodland and swamp myself—if there is no one to see after my interest there it is indeed hopeless. Bonaparte used to do it, but now he seems to have been intimidated in some way, and will not undertake to see after it at all.
December 14.
It poured heavily all day. At 1 o'clock they came in to say the wagon had come for the cotton. Of course I could not send it in the rain, and I had to send the man back. He was very wet and cold and I gave him some potato pudding and milk, all that was ready. The gin is about twelve miles away and I had engaged them to send for my cotton to-day. It was folly to send in the rain. Still I suppose I will have to pay for it.
Chloe went to St. Cyprian's last night and had much to tell of the service and her approval of the sermon. She said Mr. G. was "a good preacher en preached de pure gospel." She told me she had walked back with old Anthony and that he praised the sermon and then told her of his dissatisfaction with his minister, a Baptist. She said:—
"Br'er Tinny say, him don' like de preacher dem got; say dem ax de man fo' preach out to Tolson village, en as him had to cum clean f'um Gregory ebrybody carry 'nuf money for t'row een, but w'en him beggin fo' preach dem fin' him preach politiks, en slur, en Latin, en dem 'ordn't t'row een dem money, en de man neber git but one dollar en a half f'um dat big crowd o' people."
"Well, Chloe, you will have to tell me what preaching 'slur' means."
"Miss Pashuns, dat mean him hol' up him perfesshun high, en him scandalize all dem oder Christianity, en dat mek dem feel shame en dem didn't like dat. Him bin a Babtist, yu see, en de chutch bin full o' Methodist."
"Oh, I understand now. That was very bad indeed; now tell me what does preaching politics mean?"
"Dat mean stid o' preach de gospel of de Lord, him bin a talk 'bout de State en de law, en de guberment, en 'e got dem all tangle up en dem mind."
"They certainly showed their sense, Chloe, when they objected to that, for they went to church for heavenly instruction; but tell me what preaching Latin meant."
Chloe seemed to be a little tired of my questions and to think me dull, which is not my ordinary trouble, but she explained:—
"Well, Miss Pashuns, yu kno' 'tain't ebrybody kin onderstan' Latin, en w'en dis man kum to a place wey him hab nuthin' sensible fer said, him sta'at fu' ramble een a kin' o' gibbish en nobody c'udn't onderstan', en de man's self c'udn't onderstan'. Br'er Tinny say you c'ud look een 'e eye en see him jes' bin'a wander. Him didn't hab nuthin' fu' say; so him didn't t'row een him money, en say w'en he yeddy[3]Animus Brown is fu' preech him stay home."
I was quite amazed that little old man Tinny should have such power of discernment, and also such apt terms to describe and size up his preacher, and I was truly thankful he recognized the difference in Mr. G.'s doctrine and methods.
The darkies have a wonderfully keen insight into character. It is almost as if by instinct they know the genuine article from the imitation, the gilt from the gold. When you look at Anthony you would not think he knew anything more than a sparrow sees with its beady black eyes. He is very dried up and little, with those very same beady eyes. I think a great deal of the old man; he makes me a present of a huge pumpkin every year, and after many efforts to find out what he would like in return I make my present.
Sometimes I am baffled as to what he would like and give him money. If I do this, the very next day he hangs hisshoes on a stick over his shoulder and walks down to Gregory, fourteen miles away, invests his cash in firewater and walks back home, all with a little shuffling gait which makes it hard to believe he could walk twenty-eight miles a day.
December 18.
This afternoon Gibbie came to say that his mother was very low and so he would not be able to milk, so I took Goliah to the cow stable to help Bonaparte milk and then to put up the horses. Many little negroes of Goliah's size are good milkers, but he has no skill in that line at all, though he is remarkably clever and useful with horses.
December 19.
Both yesterday and to-day I got up very early and went out to the stable to help Bonaparte. It is very provoking of Gibbie to absent himself in this way, for I find he is not waiting on his mother, who has her husband and three other sons and their wives devoted in their services, while Gibbie is just idling along the roads.
December 20.
A perfect day, the air warm and balmy. On my way home from church heard of Eva's death. She was a simple, faithful soul, always diligent, working hard in her large field around her house and giving freely of the produce to her five sons, four of whom have families, but none of them has inherited her working, faithful nature. I will miss her greatly.
I had a good attendance of darkies at Sunday-school this afternoon. I was so pleased to see the children all so clean and nicely dressed, and they behaved so well. There were fourteen girls and fifteen boys, most of them between 10 and 14 years of age. After they have gone over the Creed, the Lord's Prayer, and the Ten Commandments several times, with explanatory remarks from me, they repeat after me a hymn, this time: "While Shepherds WatchedTheir Flocks by Night," preparatory to Christmas. Then I go in to the piano and have the girls in the room, while the boys stand by the window; and they all singà faire peur.
She was a simple, faithful soul—always diligent.
She was a simple, faithful soul—always diligent.
They enjoy it so that their whole strength is put into sound. In vain I listen for the sweet voices I have heard in times past—this is all volume without sweetness—and I fear I will crack my own throat in my efforts to guide the volume aright. "Jesus, Lover of My Soul," they know pretty well, also "Onward, Christian Soldiers."
After four hymns they stand in order of size in the piazza and I hand around two pounds of candy, which just gives each child a stick, and they depart. But to-day little fellows shot out from the row and four with much serious unwrapping of handkerchiefs handed me each an egg. I was much surprised and thanked them with effusion.
They come every Sunday before I have finished my dinner, greatly to Don's indignation; any arrival at meal-times is displeasing to him, and for fear he will frighten the children I have him chained as soon as I come from church on Sunday. These children are all grandchildren of those who belonged to my father.
December 21.
Bagging rough rice in the barn all day. It is very cold and dusty. I have most unexpectedly sold this rice for a dollar a bushel, and instead of being full of thankfulness, my poor human nature is lamenting over the 600 bushels which I have fed to my creatures all summer, and let the hands have whenever they wanted it for forty cents a bushel, and thinking how rich I would be if I had it here now. I cannot get the rice from this year's crop threshed, little as it is, because it seems impossible to get any one to work the boiler.
December 24.
Very busy putting up a parcel to send to Dab's little brother Rab who is, I hope, being made over into a very good boy by the worthy Jenkins. The parcel contained only a suit of clothes, caps, suspenders, and necessary underclothing, but I wanted it to reach him on Christmas. To my intense regret I could not put even a nickel in the pocket. I generally put a quarter and I know he will search every corner.
The mail brought packages with loving offerings from my dear ones. I had not the heart to accept the many invitations I had to spend Christmas, and so I am alone and havetime to realize the one great Christmas gift made to our humanity once for all time. This evening I sent by Gibbie a little package of good things to each darky child on the place.
Christmas Day.
I sat up until 1 o'clock last night rummaging through my possessions to find presents for the servants. I cannot bear to have nothing for them, but my dear father's constant injunction, "Be just before you are generous," is indelibly impressed upon me. I owe money to several and so I have not been willing to spend even a quarter on Christmas preparations.
Winnowing house for preparation of seed rice.
Winnowing house for preparation of seed rice.
All the grown servants have gone to the "setting up," which is one of the strongest articles of their creed and isvery impressive, I think—the feeling that they must not be found in their beds on this mysterious night when the King of the world was born and laid in a manger. A feeble old woman with whom I remonstrated, telling her she was not strong enough to sit up all night, turned on me in indignation, saying: "Miss, yo' t'ink I 'ood let de Lawd ketch me in baid to-night w'en de bery cow fall on dey knee! No, ma'am, dis night is fer pray, en shout, en rej'ice."
My packages yesterday contained six boxes of candy, four of them the most delicious home-made nut candy of different kinds. I had two pounds of common stick candy in the house, and after getting up some ancient silk things, I found five boxes to fill, one for each servant; the stick candy in the bottom, and some of my delicious things out of my recent presents to fill up.
I was so in earnest searching in the garret for empty boxes by the light of a dim lantern that I did not notice what labels they bore until I had filled the five and put a Christmas card on top of each and put the covers on. Then I laughed until I cried. The largest, which I had put particularly nice things in, was labelled "Finest mourning paper" and had great black bands all around. The next was labelled "Best carbolic soap," and the others were also soap boxes. It was too late to take out all the carefully arranged contents and begin over, so I tied them up with ribbon and put two apples on each so that they would be on hand when I heard the call: "Merry Christmas!" at my door in the early morning.
In the olden time there used to be such crowds coming in to the upstairs hall to wish the Merry Christmas, and one must have a gift for each. Long after the war they kept it up, and I used to have a hamper of little gifts all wrapped to pitch out of the door as I heard each voice. Now I had only Chloe, Dab, Betty, Bonaparte, and Gibbie to provide for. I put up little packages for old Katie and all the old darkieswho come to the yard to wish us Merry Christmas and bring an egg or two and receive their Christmas.
This is a survival of the past, when every negro on the plantation came soon after daylight Christmas morning, to give their good wishes and to receive substantial gifts themselves. They always had three days of entire holiday, during which they amused themselves, always ending the day by two hours' dancing on the piazza of the "big house" to the music of fiddle, tambourine, bones, drum, and sticks. My father sent off young lads to learn to play the violin every year, so that there were always one or two capable of leading.
The way in which they mark time with the sticks has always been a wonder to me. They beat them in syncopated time, the accent always being on the second beat. I have tried in vain to get the motion, and yet very little children do it in perfect time.
I drove to church thinking of all the nice things I would like to be carrying to my friends in the dear little settlement who all sent me some charming token of affection and goodwill. Only three or four assembled and the holly filled font was the only sign of the great festival. Our organist was not there, so that I knew I would have to "raise" the hymn—that means stand up in your pew and sing it without accompaniment.
What was my dismay when "Shout the Glad Tidings, Exultingly Sing," was given out. There is but one tune that I ever heard to it, and that is most elaborate. However, it is the forlorn hope that rouses and appeals to me. I rose to my feet and the occasion, and the glad tidings were shouted most enthusiastically by one feeble voice. Only at the chorus Miss Pandora gave the support of her voice. It is pleasant to remember that the Good Maker of all, does not have to listen; he looks within and sees the spirit which impels those inadequate sounds.
I came away from the simple service in high spirits, all my depression and discouragement floated upward in the quavering shouts of glad tidings.
December 26.
Rode out to the post-office on horseback and enjoyed it immensely. Got a charming book there. I have had so many dear little presents, the most valuable being a pair of driving gloves, which have delighted me
December 27.
Started to church this morning with Ruth in the buckboard and found her dead lame! Had to turn and have Dab get Romola out of the field and put her in.
I am worried because the stable door is off its hinges, and it is strange Gibbie should not have reported it yesterday, for Bonaparte could have fixed it in five minutes. I used Ruth Friday and she was quite well. I fear she has been ridden at night and put her foot in a hole.
December 28.
J. and L. came Sunday evening and spent the night. Yesterday morning L., who has made quite a specialty of animal diseases, examined Ruth's leg and foot. He said it was the hock, and he only hoped it might not prove spavin—said it must be bathed twice a day with hot mullein tea and then rubbed dry.
I begged him to tell Gibbie exactly what to do and how to do it, as it would impress him more, coming from him. So he gave him most careful instructions about it. This morning at ten, when I was rushing with some letters to catch the mail at the avenue gate, I saw Ruth standing near the back door with the long strong reins, which Jim made to drive the colt, wrapped 'round and 'round a walnut tree. I was so provoked that I forgot the mail and addressed Gibbie, who was rubbing Ruth's leg and asked why he had put the head-stalland reins which had been made for the colt on Ruth. He answered:—
"Jus' so. I had dem on Alcyone driving about in. W'en I stop I put 'em on Root."
"Where is Ruth's halter?" I supposed something had happened to it, but not at all; it was in the stable.
As I saw the large pool of water on the ground and Ruth's leg rubbed quite dry I grew milder in my words and simply sent him to get the halter and put it on. Then I went on with the letters. As I came back I went into the pantry where the breakfast things were not yet washed. Again I exploded.
"Why were the cups and silver not yet washed?"
"Gibbie cum een en say he had o'ders to git all de hot water fer Root fut, so 'e hemp both kittle, en we had to put on water fresh f'r we, en it ain't hot 'nuff yet."
I simply had to leave without saying a word.
"Patty en Dab en me bin a eat."
"Patty en Dab en me bin a eat."
Later Chloe sought me when I had just settled myself at my desk to write, and said:—
"Miss Pashuns, all dat hot water Gibbie tek out de two kittle out de kitchen, 'e neber put a drop on Root fut!"
"My, Chloe! what did he do with it, then?"
"'E po' um right out down on de group' long side a Root een a puddle, en 'e neber so much as tech Root fut wid a wet clot'. 'E rub um wid a dry rag."
I cast my mind back and remembered how very dry Ruth's leg was, and how pleased I was that Gibbie should have rubbed her so well; but still I could scarcely believe that he had poured all that hot water on the ground. While I was considering, Chloe went on:—
"'Tain't me one see um. Patty en Dab en me all bin a eat we break-us en we set down right dey, en luk at Gibbie when 'e pou' out de watah 'pun de groun'."
What a farce to try to have anything done at all! I did not say a word to Gibbie about this. He would simply swear it was not so and there would be a state of warfare in the yard.
I sent for him that afternoon and told him to fill a big pot in the yard with water, get some mullein leaves and put in it, make a fire under the pot the first thing in the morning, and after cleaning his horses to bring Ruth out and let me know, as I wished to bathe her myself.
Cherokee, December 29.
Jim is not coming back; his month with me is up, and he has work in Gregory. Now the question is either to give up all the progress which has been made in Marietta's training or to drive her myself.
I have always been afraid of a skeleton road cart, and I confess I dread driving in one. I asked Jim before he went one day if he could not try her in the old buckboard, which is very light. He said by no means, that she wheeled square round at any new thing she saw, and would break the shafts at once.
To-day I had Romola put in the road cart for me to try it, and drove eight miles. The seat is just an unusually hard board, and I knew that the least thing would make me pitch out. When I got back I called Bonaparte and had him take off the board and put some strong wide pieces of leather across and then tack a sheepskin on top, and I will try it to-morrow.
Then I told him I wanted a small seat secured to the axle at the back so that Gibbie could sit there. Bonaparte indicated that ordinarily he found my plans intelligent, but that in this instance he failed to see any sign of common sense. It was all in civil, even courtly, language, but the meaning was plain. I was not daunted. I said:—
"I cannot go out alone with that colt. I must have Gibbie at hand, and the only way to take him is to rig up such a seat, and I trust to your cleverness and skill to do it."
I got a very strong chair of white oak and had him saw off the back. "Now this is what I want you to use, and I want you to put it here," I said. Then I left him.
December 30.
This morning when I went to look at the progress of the little shelf behind the road cart, I found Bonaparte working with enthusiasm. The idea had suddenly taken him, but Gibbie was looking on with a face of woe, muttering steadily "risk my life—got wife and chillun—brek me neck"-I could only hear a word here and there.
"Gibbie," I said, "how many times were you thrown out of the road cart when Jim and you went with Marietta?"
"Only fo' time."
"Where did you sit?"
"Jim en me set on de seat; each one had a fut on de step so we could jump quick."
"Did Jim jump out?"
"Jim jump out 'eself ebery time we meet buggy, dat colt wunt pass a buggy, en de las' wud Jim say to me was, 'Fo' King sake Gib neber let um meet a w'ite hoss, kase 'e'll bruk up eberyt'ing.'"
"Well," I said, "now you will be perfectly safe behind here, for when anything happens you can step off without any trouble."
But Gibbie continued to grumble and mutter. As soon as the extraordinary little perch was adjusted I made him put Romola in the cart and took him behind for a six-mile drive. He nearly refused to go, but I kept my eye on him, and we started.
We had not driven out of the front gate before I heard sounds of satisfaction from behind—little grunts only at first, butat last he burst into speech. "My law, Miss Pashuns, you hav a good idea w'en yu fix dis seat! I too cumfutable! Jes' es easy es if I bin home een me rockin' chai'. Dis' de t'ing fo' me." I was greatly relieved, for as Gibbie has been going with Jim every day, with Marietta, it is important he should go along with me. One change at a time is enough and I cannot let him drive, because he has such a heavy hand, accustomed to handle oxen, but I could not take him if he was afraid or unwilling.
I was equally delighted with my seat, for the sheepskin made all the difference; one could sit home as on a saddle. I did not think the cart balanced just as I wished, however, and when I got home I told Bonaparte to get a heavy piece of iron from the old mill and fasten it where the dash-board is in a buggy; this cart has none. He did this and I got in and made Gibbie get behind while Bonaparte steadied the shafts and they stood level without his holding them. Then I was satisfied. Everything is ready now and to-morrow I will drive Marietta.
All the neighbors are making an outcry about it and my dear friend Miss N. to-day said all that could possibly be said to deter me, but I cannot see it as they do. My taxes are $100; they are due now. If nothing turns up I must sell something to pay them. Last year I sold a colt for that purpose. Now Marietta unbroken would not be salable, but broken she would bring a good price.
It will be a heartbreaking business to part with her. She is exactly like her mother and they would be a delightful pair, but I must try and get her broken if I can. She has made good progress in a month, I think, for she was not even halter broken the first of December.
December 31.
Started with Marietta at 12:25 to-day and drove eight miles, getting back at 1:35. It was truly exciting, but shewent wonderfully. All the way to Peaceville we were so fortunate as not to meet a vehicle on the road. Coming back a buggy turned into the narrow road ahead. I waved to the man to turn back, but he did not understand, for I would not speak to let Marietta know I was telling him to go back; but as soon as she saw him she made herself immense, and began to trumpet like an elephant, standing stock still.
The man needed no suggestion after seeing and hearing her, and rapidly got out and lifted his buggy around and fled into another road. After a while she quieted down and we went on. It is a great pity to have such a road; it is barely wide enough for two vehicles to pass and there is a deep ditch on each side.
We had gone about a quarter of a mile after this and she had steadied into a quiet trot, when two dogs, one white and one black, dashed from a house about 500 yards from the road, and rushed toward us, barking furiously. This was too much. She started at a full run and all my effort was directed to keeping her in the road, for those deep ditches so near on each side were a terror.
I talked to her as I put out my whole strength on the reins. I felt I could not stand it much longer, my arms were giving way and I wondered whether Gibbie was thrown off and what would be the end, when she slacked her speed and finally came down into a trot. Then I called to Gibbie.
He is stone deaf, which makes a difficulty, and I was too shaken and stiff to be able to turn around to look; but when at last he heard he answered with cheerful equanimity. Having once given me his faith, Gibbie did not appear to have the least anxiety.
My heart was filled with thanksgiving as I stepped down from the funny little cart at the stable door, Marietta dripping with sweat and blood streaming from each side of her mouth,but turning around to see what I had for her with a look of affection. I always gave Ruth a lump of sugar when she had been good, but this poor dear little hard times thing won't take sugar nor apple nor carrot—no, nothing but an ear of corn will she take.
This is the last night of the old year. For the first time since the tragedy I felt myself drawn to the piano, and I played Chopin's funeral march over and over, with its wonderful wail of sorrow, and then Beethoven's funeral march on the death of a hero. Such a contrast! No wail here. Rather "Gloria Victor":—
O Death, where is thy sting?O Grave, where thy victory?
O Death, where is thy sting?O Grave, where thy victory?
O Death, where is thy sting?
O Grave, where thy victory?
The old year is dead. God grant us grace in the new.
January 1.
The new year ought to fill one with bright anticipations and hopes, but somehow I am so weighed down by realities, in the shape of bills and accounts which should be paid and for which I see no wherewithal, that my horizon seems dark and cloud-capped. I try to keep myself hard at work, as that is the only way to get rid of anxiety.
I am having wool washed to make a mattress, as I need a nice single mattress, and the only way to get it at this moment is to make it. Chloe and Patty are to wash it to-morrow.
January 2.
Drove Marietta this morning for the second time. Jim always walked behind driving with long reins, while Gibbie led her as far as the front gate, so I followed his example and drove from behind until we got into the public road, when I got in. She fought a little, but went beautifully when once we were started.
I wanted to go to the post-office in Peaceville but did not wish to stop there, as we did that the last time, and with a colt it is so important not to let it form a habit of stopping at any one place. So I drove all the way up the village to the last house, and turning there came back to the post-office. Alack and alas! it was closed. If only I had stopped on the way up I would have got my mail, and I was hoping for a valuable letter. While I stopped talking, asking if it would not be possible to have the office opened for a moment, one of my dear Sunday-school boys galloped by on horseback, followed by his black dog.
Marietta just made up her mind to get rid of all impedimentsand pursue them, especially the dog. She reared, she plunged, she bucked, she whirled, she stood so long on her hind legs pawing the air that I thought she must fall back on me. Gibbie, however, held on to her manfully, although nearly lifted from the ground. Mr. R. was so excited that he jumped the high paling fence to come to my assistance, but there was nothing he could do. However, I was glad of his suggestion, made in his deliberate way: "I would turn her head the other way," which advice I gladly followed and drove rapidly up the village for the second time and on in that direction until she was somewhat quiet and then turned homeward, trusting Fred and his black dog had gone a long distance and would not return until I was safely at home.
One dangerous spot after another was passed and I began to breathe more freely when, as I reached the Clay gully, I saw in the distance the galloping horse and frisking black dog approaching. My heart was in my mouth, but I make it a rule never to call out in an alarmed tone, as a horse is so sensitive to the driver's feelings. I had taken her around a little side cut she was unaccustomed to so that she was so busy examining every root and stump that she did not see the approaching party. To my great relief Fred saw us, and with wonderful presence of mind called his dog, which had nearly reached us, and rode rapidly off in another direction. I was very thankful, and greatly pleased at the boy's prompt thought and action.
Got home without further trouble and did not give poor little Marietta the reward she was expecting—two quarts of oats. Gibbie was indignant at this and proceeded to argue with me, but I was firm and told him Marietta would understand perfectly.
January 6.
Have had the great privilege and pleasure of having our Bishop as my guest, on his pastoral visit to our strugglinglittle parish. The Bishop's visit is always a season of uplift and thankfulness.
January 7.
Drove Marietta to-day, and though she was nervous at first and it was hard for me to get in the road cart, she soon quieted down and went eight miles without any excitement, so that I had the pleasure of giving her the two quarts of oats mixed with soda and hot water which is the reward of merit.
Friday, January 8.
This morning I told Gibbie that we would drive down the road, as we have been up so often, because the bridge a short distance below has been undergoing repairs. Marietta went very quietly until we got out of the gate and turned her head down the road and I got in—then she wheeled sharp around and reared until I thought she must fall back—she plunged, she squatted until she broke up the harness entirely. Gibbie lost his nerve and instead of holding her by the bit, as he did the last time she fought, he held the end of a six foot halter, so that he had no power over her and was in danger of being pawed.
I held on to the reins, fortunately. She turned herself around in the shafts, having broken girth and crupper, until she faced me, and as I kept my tight grip on the reins she was nearly choked. Purposely I pulled tighter and tighter, and when she found herself entirely tied up in the harness and choking she was quiet and stood without moving while Gibbie and Bonaparte took off the remnants of the harness. Fortunately the head-stall and reins were strong and held. I found there was no hope of putting her back in the cart, as it would take days to patch up the harness, so I told Gibbie I would drive her down the road without any vehicle, he leading and I holding the reins behind. We had a great deal of trouble to get her started down the road, but she wentafter a while quietly enough until we came to the bridge, where she made a tremendous fight. When I was worn out with her wheeling and fighting I gave the lines to Gibbie and told him to stand perfectly still, not make any effort to get her over, but if she started to go, to follow her. Then I went across and stood a short distance from the bridge and willed her to come over, putting all my strength into the will. She put one foot slowly forward and then the other, apparently with the greatest reluctance, but once started she came straight to me, and then I took the lines and drove her three miles. She was just as quiet and docile as though she had never fought. She walked so rapidly, however, dragging me along at a most unusual pace for me, that I was completely exhausted when we got home.
January 8.
Started on mattress about 10 o'clock and worked steadily until I finished it at midnight. I made the tick on the machine just after breakfast and then had Bonaparte make me a frame just the size of the spring I wanted the mattress to fit. This was not finished until 10 and I was very much afraid I would not be able to finish, but I did by working, with only half an hour for dinner. I get so interested in anything I am doing, it does not matter what it is, for the moment, it is the most engrossing occupation in the world. The wool was beautifully washed, which made it pleasant.
When it came to sticking a needle a foot long through the mattress and tying with twine I had to get Jim's willing and efficient help, but that was not until after 9 to-night. I am so exhilarated by the success of my work that I am neither tired nor sleepy and have to make myself stop working and go to bed, when I hope to sleep serenely "clothed in the light of high duties done."
January 9.
Sewed nearly all day, which is a rare treat to me. The wood we are using burns out so fast, that I have been urging the men to cut enough logs from the live oaks (which I have at last got sawed down), to give each fireplace a back log; that makes such a difference in the permanence and heat of the fire. Joe Keit said the wood was too hard, might as well try to cut iron, and that it would take all day to cut one log, making it very dear wood. I was provoked, but never having sawed any wood at all, I did not know whether what he said was true or not—that always worries me—so I put down my sewing and got the big saw about 4½ feet long with one handle, which is comfortable to grasp, and went out to the four splendid live oaks which were killed in the storm, whether by lightning or otherwise I don't know, but they have stood there in melancholy naked grandeur ever since, till this winter I bought a fine cross-cut saw, and had Jim and Joe Keit to saw them down. It was long and laborious, but they had become a menace to the cattle, as the limbs rotted and fell. I selected a limb of suitable height for me to work on and began very awkwardly to saw. The cattle seeing so unusual a sight gathered round me, and Equinox, the bull, feeling sure I must be fixing food for them, came nearer and nearer in his investigations, so that I was forced to an ignominious retreat, before I had made much progress on my "iron" limb. I was not going to give it up, however. I went into the next lot where there was an even more indestructible oak tree, which various men at various times had refused to tackle, and began afresh with the saw. I was pleased to find myself already a little handier and worked with great satisfaction. I remembered Dickens' "'tis dogged does it" and my spirits rose as I got the knack of drawing back the big saw. Jim, who was engaged in cutting limbs from a green live oak, which is much less tough,and which I disapprove of entirely, some distance off, came and expressed great anxiety lest I overexert myself and said, "Let me finish it, Miss Patience, you'll be here till dark," but I proudly declined, and to his and my amazement I had the back log off in half an hour.
"Now," I said, "if I who have never handled a saw before in my life, can cut that log, seven inches in diameter, which has been here since the storm of '93, and rings like metal when you strike it, in half an hour, you and Joe Keit should be able to cut those logs of the same size from those oaks which are rotting a little, in ten minutes, and by giving a day to it, the house will be supplied with back logs for two months at least."
January 10.
I ventured to church in spite of rain which did not amount to much. A little stiff and painful from my prowess with saw yesterday, but would not for worlds acknowledge it to any one. Had my iron log brought in and set up in the piazza, and shall put a geranium on it as a pedestal. I am so proud of it I cannot think of burning it up.
I hear that Gibbie has moved off of the place, has left without paying his rent. He came on the 16th, and paid one dollar on his rent for October, the rent being $1.25 a month, and he says he gets one dollar a day for his work. He assured me that it was impossible for him to pay more until some mythical time when he would be paid off and pay the rest to date. Now he has slipped away without paying at all. I have written to see if I can get it from his employer. Now comes his brother David to tell me he is going—he pays me $2.25 which leaves $6.50 still due me. I made him give me his note payable by April first for that. I do not doubt April first was a most suitable date and that it will be a proper celebration of the day as April fool. Chloe's indignation is great for she knows how often I havehelped them in sickness and how patiently I have waited on them. She burst out, "De good yu do, de t'enks yu git, how yu help dem po' mudder tru' she long sickness an' tribulation! but w'at better kin you 'spec f'um run-way nigger fam'bly?"