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Rose of Old Harpeth, Page 3

Maria Thompson Daviess


  CHAPTER III

  AT THE COURT OF DAME NATURE

  "Well, Rose Mary," said Uncle Tucker as he appeared in the doorway ofthe milk-house and framed himself against an entrancing,mist-wreathed, sun-up aspect of Sweetbriar with a stretch ofProvidence Road winding away to the Nob and bending caressingly aroundred-roofed Providence as it passed over the Ridge, "there areforty-seven new babies out in the barn for you this morning. Bettercome on over and see 'em!" Uncle Tucker's big eyes were bright withexcitement, his gray lavender muffler, which always formed a part ofhis early morning costume, flew at loose ends, and a rampant, grizzlylock stuck out through the slit in the old gray hat.

  "Gracious me, Uncle Tuck, who now?" demanded Rose Mary over a crockof milk she was expertly skimming with a thin, old, silver ladle.

  "Old White has hatched out a brood of sixteen, assorted black andwhite, that foolish bronze turkey hen just come out from under thewoodpile with thirteen little pesters, Sniffer has got fivepups--three spots and two solids--and Mrs. Butter has twin calves,assorted sex this time. They are spry and hungry and you'd better comeon over!"

  "Lovely," laughed Rose Mary with the delight in her blue eyes matchingthat in Uncle Tucker's pair of mystic gray. "I'll come just as soon asI get the skimming done. We'll want some corn meal and millet seed forthe chirp-babies, but the others we can leave to the maternalministrations. I'm so full of welcome I don't see how I'm going tokeep it from bubbling over."

  "That's jest like you, Rose Mary, a-welcoming a whole passel ofpesters that have deluged down on you at one time," said Uncle Tuckerwith a dubiously appreciative smile at Rose Mary's hospitableenthusiasm. "Looks to me like a girl tending three old folks, onerampage of a boy, a mollycuddle of a strange man, and a whole pettingspoiled village has got enough on her shoulders without thisfour-foot, two-foot landslide."

  "But it's in my heart I carry you all, old Sweetie," answered RoseMary with a flirt of her long lashes up at Uncle Tucker. "A woman cancarry things as a blessing in her heart that might be an awful burdenon her shoulders. Don't you know I don't allow you out before the sunis up good without your muffler tied up tight? There; please go onback to the barn and take this crock of skimmed milk to Mrs.Sniffie--wait, I'll pour back some of the cream! And in just a fewminutes I'll be ready to--"

  "Rose Mary, Rose Mary," came a wild, enthusiastic shout from up thepath toward the Briars and in a moment the General appeared around therow of lilac bushes through which the milk-house trail led down underthe hill to Rose Mary's sanctum of the golden treasure. Stonie hadtaken time before leaving the seclusion of his apartment to plungeinto his short blue jeans trousers, but he was holding them up withone hand and struggling with his gingham shirt, the tail of whichbellowed out like a sail in the morning breeze as he sped along. Andin his wake came Tobe with a pan in one hand and a cup in the other."It's two calves, Tobe says, with just Mrs. Butter for the mother andSniffie beat her with three more puppies than two calves. It's sixteenchickens and a passel of turkeys and we waked up Mr. Mark to tell himand he said--" Stonie paused in the rapid fire of his announcement ofthe morning news and then added in judicial tone of voice, as ifgiving the aroused sleeper his modicum of fair play: "Well, he didn'tquite say it before he swallowed, but he throwed a pillow at Tobe andpulled the sheet over his head and groaned awful. Aunt Viney wassaying her prayers when I went to tell her, and Aunt Mandy was takingdown her frizzles, but she stopped and gave Tobe some corn-bread forthe chickens and some pot-licker with meat in it for Sniffie. Can'tyou come with me to see 'em now, Rose Mary? It won't be any fun untilyou see em!" The General had by this time lined up in the doorway withUncle Tucker, and Tobe's black head and keen face peered over hisshoulder. The expression in all three pairs of eyes fixed on hers wasthe same--the wild desire to make her presentation at the interestingcourt Dame Nature was holding in the barn. A most natural masculineinstinct for feminine interpretive companionship when face to facewith the miracle of maternity.

  "Just one more crock of milk to skim and I can go," answered Rose Maryas she poised the skimmer over the last yellow surface down the lineof huge, brown, earthen bowls that in Harpeth Valley were known ascrocks. The milk-house was cool and clean and smelled of the freshcream lifted from the milk into the stone jars to be clabbered for theto-morrow churning. And Rose Mary herself was a fresh, fragrantincarnation of the spirit of a spring sun-dawn that had come over theRidge from Old Harpeth. Her merry voice floated out over the hillsideas she followed in the wake of Uncle Tucker, Stonie and Tobe, with theprovender for the new arrivals, and it made its way as a faint echo ofa dream through one of the vine-covered, gable windows of the Briarsand the effect thereof was well-nigh instantaneous.

  Everett, after a hasty and almost as incomplete toilet as the one madeby the General in his excitement, arrived on the scene of action justin time to witness the congratulatory interview between Mrs. Sniffieand the mistress of her undying affections. The long-eared, plumy,young setter-mother stood licking the back of Rose Mary's neck as shesat on the barn floor with all five of the young tumblers in her lap,with Tobe and Stonie hanging rapturously over her and them, whileUncle Tucker was expatiating on some points that had made themselvesevident even at this very early stage of the existence of the littledog babies.

  "They ain't not a single stub nose in the bunch, Uncle Tuck, not a oneand everybody's of thems toes stick way apart," exclaimed the General,his cheeks red with joyous pride.

  "Watch 'em, Miss Ro' Mary; watch 'em smell Sniffie when I call herover here," exclaimed Tobe as he held out the pan to Mrs. Sniffer andthus coaxed her from the side of Rose Mary and the small family. And,sure enough, around squirmed every little white and yellow bunch andup went every little new-born nose as it sniffed at the recession ofthe maternal fount. One little precocious even went so far as toattempt to set his wee fore paddies against Rose Mary's knee and tostiffen a tiny plume of a tail, with a plain instinct to point thedirection of the shifting base of supplies. Rose Mary gave a cry ofdelight and hugged the whole talented family to her breast, whileStonie and Tobe yelled and danced as Uncle Tucker turned with evidentemotion to Everett to claim his congratulations.

  "Never saw anything like it in my life," Everett assured him with thegreatest enthusiasm, and, as he spoke, he laughed down into RoseMary's lifted blue eyes that were positively tender with pride overthe puppies in her arms. "It's a sight worth losing the tale of adream for--taken all together."

  "And all the others--I'll show you," and, gathering her skirtsbasketwise, Rose Mary rose to her feet and led the way across thebarn, with Sniffer snuffing along at the squirming bundle in herskirts, that swung against the white petticoat ruffling around herslim ankles. With the utmost care she deposited the puppies in anoverturned barrel, nicely lined with hay, that Stonie and Tobe hadbeen preparing. "They are lovely, Sniffie," she said softly to theyoung mother, who jumped in and huddled down beside the babies as hermistress turned to leave them with the greatest reluctance.

  And it was well that the strata of Everett's enthusiasm lay near thesurface and was easily workable, for in the next half-hour there was agreat demand of continuous output. Mrs. Butter stood switching hertail and chewing at a wisp of hay with an air of triumphant pridetinged with mild surprise as she turned occasionally to glance at theoffspring huddled against her side and found eight wobbly legs insteadof the four her former experiences had led her to expect, and felt twolittle nuzzling noses instead of one.

  "Which one do you guess was the surprise calf to her, Rose Mamie?"demanded the General.

  "Shoo!" said Tobe in answer to the General's question. "Old Butterhave had them two calfs to purpose, boy and girl, one to keep and oneto kill. She got mixed about whether Mr. Tuck keeps heifers or bullsand jest had both kinds so as to keep one sure."

  "Well, Aunt Viney read in her book of a place they kills girls andkeeps boys. At this place they jest gits it mixed up with the cows andit's no use to tell 'em," answered the General in a disgusted tone ofvoice, and with a stem gl
ance at Uncle Tucker, as he and Tobe passedon over to the feed-room door, to lead the way to the display of thelittle turks and cheeps for Everett's further edification.

  And just as the introductions were all completed two deep notes of themellow old farm bell sounded over the hill in a hospitable andreverent summons to prayers and breakfast ensuing. On the instant twopairs of pink heels were shown to the company as Stonie and Toberaced up the walk, which were quickly followed by Uncle Tucker, intenton being on hand promptly for the assembling of his household. Moreslowly Rose Mary and Everett followed, walking side by side along thenarrow path.

  "Rose Mary, have you let me sleep through such exciting scenes as thisevery morning for a month?" demanded Everett quizzically. "What timedo you get up--or is it that the sun waits for your summons or--"

  "No, not my summons--old lame Shanghi's. I believe he is of Frenchextraction from his elaborate manner with the hens," answered RoseMary, quickly applying his plagiarized compliment. "Let's hurry orI'll be late for prayers. Would you like--will you come in to-day, asyou are already up?" The color rose in Rose Mary's cheeks up under herlong lashes and she gave him just one shy glance that had a tinge ofroguishness in it.

  "Thank you, I--I would like to. That is, if I may--if I won't be inthe way or--or--or--will you hold my hand so I won't go wrong?" hefinished in laughing confusion as the color came under the tan of hischeeks to match that in hers and the young look lay for a moment inhis eyes. "It'll be my debut at family worship," he added quickly tocover his confusion.

  "Don't worry, Uncle Tucker leads it," answered Rose Mary as theyascended the front steps and came across the front porch to thedoorway of the wide hall, which was the living-room, as well as theartery of the Briars.

  And a decorous and seemly scene they stepped in upon. Uncle Tucker satback of a small table, which was placed at one side of the wide openfireplace, in which crackled a bit of fragrant, spring fire. His Bibleand a couple of hymn-books rested in front of him, his gray forelockhad been meekly plastered down and the jocund lavender scarf had beenlaid aside to display a straight white collar and clerical black bowtie. His eyes were bent on the book before him as he sought for thetext for the morning lesson. Aunt Viney sat close beside him as ifanxious to be as near to the source of worship as possible, though thestrain of refraining from directing Uncle Tucker in the conductingthereof was very great. The tradition which forced silence upon womenin places of public worship had held with Miss Lavinia only by theexercising of the sternest and most rigorous self-suppression, whichat any time might have been broken except for the curbing of her ironwill.

  But even though silent she was still dominant, and over her glassesher eyes shot glances of stern rebuke at two offenders in a distantcorner, while Uncle Tucker fluttered the leaves of his hymn-book,oblivious to the unseemly contention. The General and Tobe, who cameas near to living and having his being at the Briars as was possiblein consideration of the fact that he was supposed to have his bed andboard under his own paternal roof, were kneeling demurely beside asmall rocking-chair, but a battle royal was going on as to who wouldpossess the low seat on which to bow the head of reverence.

  Little Miss Amanda from across the room, in terror of what mightbefall her favorites at the hands of Miss Lavinia in a later hour ofreckoning, was making beseeching gestures of alarm, warning andreproof that were entirely inadequate to the situation, which was fastbecoming acute, when the two tardy members arrived on the scene ofaction. It took Rose Mary one second to grasp the situation, and,motioning Everett to a chair beside the rocker, she seated herselfquickly in the very midst of the scuffle. In a half-second Tobe's headwas bowed in triumph on the arm of her chair, while the General's wasducked with equal triumph upon her knee as Uncle Tucker's sweet oldvoice rose in the first words of his prayer.

  But after a few minutes of most becoming reverence Stonie's eyesopened and revealed his surprise at Everett's presence as he knelt bythe chair across from Tobe and almost as close to Rose Mary'sprotective presence as either of the two combatants. With a welcomingsmile the General slipped the little brown hand of fellowship into thestranger's, thereby offering a material support to the latter's agonyof embarrassment, which only very slowly receded from face anddemeanor as the services proceeded.

  Then as across the crackle of the fire came the confident word ofDavid the Singer: "_The earth is the Lord's and the fullness thereof;the world and they that dwell therein_," intoned in the old man'sreverent voice, something led Everett's glance out through the opendoor to see the bit of divine dominion that spread before him with neweyes and a newer understanding. Harpeth Valley lay like the tenderpalm of a huge master hand with the knuckles of rough blue hillsknotted around it, and dotted over the fostering meadows werecomfortable homes, each with its morning altar fire sending up opalwreaths of mist smoke from the red brick or stone chimneys. Long creeklines marked their way across the fields which were growing tendergreen with the upbringing of the spring grain.

  "_Who hath measured the waters in the hollow of His hand_," dronedUncle Tucker. "_The hollow of His hand_," assented Everett'sconscience in artistic appreciation of the simile.

  "_And stretched out the heavens as a curtain, and spreadeth them outas a tent to dwell in_," came as another line of interpretation of thepicture spread before the strangely unshackled eyes of the bowed manwith the little boy kneeling beside him. Quickly he turned toward RoseMary with almost a startled glance and found in her eyes the fact thatshe had been faring forth over Harpeth Valley on the wings of UncleTucker's supplication as had he. The wonder of it rose in his eyes,which were about to lay bare to her depths never before stirred, whena fervent "Amen! I beat you that time, Tobe!" fairly exploded at hisear as the General took the final word out of Uncle Tucker's verymouth in rival to his worshipping opponent.

  "I said it first, but it got blowed into Miss Ro' Mary's sleeve,"avowed Tobe with a flaunt at his competitor.

  "If nobody he'r'n it, it don't count," decided the General withemphasis. And in friendly dispute he escorted his rival down the frontwalk, while Uncle Tucker, as was his custom, busied himselfstraightening hymn-book and Bible, so leaving the family altar inreadiness for the beginning of a new day. And thus the primitiveceremonial, the dread of which had kept Everett late in bed everymorning for a month, had resolved itself into what seemed to him butthe embrace of a tender, whimsical brotherhood in which the old mysticboth assumed and accounted for a stewardship in behalf of the othersassembled under his roof-tree.

  But in the eyes of Miss Lavinia all forms of service were themarshalling of the hosts in battle array and at all times she wasenlisted in the ranks of the church militant, and upon this occasionshe bore down upon Everett with banners unfurled.

  "We are mighty gratified to welcome you at last in the circle offamily worship, young man," she declaimed, as reproach and cordialityvied in her voice. "I have been a-laying off to ask you what churchyou belonged to in New York, and have a little talk with you over someof our sacred duties that young people of this generation are apt--"

  "Rose Mary," came Miss Amanda's cheery little voice from the doorwayjust in time to save Everett from the wish, if not even a vainattempt, to sink through the floor, "bring Mr. Mark right on in tobreakfast before the waffles set. Sister Viney, your coffee isa-getting cold." Little Miss Amanda had seen and guessed at hisplight and the coffee threat to Miss Lavinia had been one of thenimble manoeuvers that she daily, almost hourly, employed in themanagement of her sister's ponderosity. Thus she had saved this day,but Everett knew that there were others to come, and in the dimdistance he discerned his Waterloo.

  And as he worked carefully with his examining pick over beyond thenorth pasture through the soft spring-warm afternoon, he occasionallysmiled to himself as the morning scene of worship, etched deep on hisconsciousness by its strangeness to his tenets of life, rose again andagain to his mind's eye. They were a wonderful people, these Valleyfolk, descendants of the Huguenots and Cavaliers who had taken thewilderness t
rail across the mountains and settled here "in the hollow"of old Harpeth's hand. They were as interesting scientifically from aphilosophical standpoint as were the geological formations which laybeneath their blue-grass and clover fields. They built altars to whatseemed to him a primitive God, and yet their codes were in many casesnot only ethically but economically and democratically sound. The menhe had found shrewd and as a whole more interested and versed instatescraft than would seem possible, considering their shut-inlocation in regard to the places where the world wheels seem torevolve. But were there larger wheels revolving, silently, slowly, butjust as relentlessly, out here where the heavens were stretched "_as acurtain_," and "_as a tent to dwell in_?"

  "_'The earth and the fullness thereof,'_" he mused as he raised hiseyes to the sky; "it's theirs, certainly, and they dedicate it totheir God. I wonder--" Suddenly the picture of the woman in the barnrose to his mind, strong and gracious and wonderful, with the young"fullness" pressing around her, teeming with--force. What force--andwhat source? Suddenly he dropped his pick behind a convenient bush,shouldered his kit of rocks and sand, climbed the fence and trampedaway down Providence Road to Sweetbriar, Rose Mary and her cold milkcrocks, thither impelled by deep--thirsts.

  And under the hospitable eaves of the milk-house he found Rose Maryand her cooling draft--also Mrs. Caleb Rucker, with small Pete in tow.

  "Howdy, Mr. Mark," the visiting neighbor answered in response to hisforcedly cordial greeting. If a man has walked a mile and a half witha picture of a woman handing him a glass of cool milk with a certainlift of black lashes from over deep, black blue eyes itis--disconcerting to have her do it in the presence of another.

  "I just come over to get a bucket of buttermilk for GrannySatterwhite," he found Mrs. Rucker saying as he forced his attention."She won't touch mine if there's any of Rose Mary's handy. Looks likeshe thinks she's drinking some of Rose Mary's petting with everygulp."

  Everett had just raised the glass Rose Mary had handed him, to hislips, as Mrs. Rucker spoke, and over its edge he regarded the rosesthat suddenly blushed out in her cheeks, but she refused to raise herlashes the fraction of an inch and went calmly on pressing the milkfrom the butter she had just taken from the churn.

  "Granny knows that love can be sent just as well in a glass ofbuttermilk as in a valentine," she finally said, and as she spoke aroguish smile coaxed at the comer of her mouth. "Don't you suppose apiece of hemp twine would turn into a gold cord if you tied it arounda bundle of true love?" she ventured further in a spirit of daring,still with her eyes on the butter.

  "Now that's something in meaning like my first husband, Mr.Satterwhite, said when we was married," assented Mrs. Rucker withhearty appreciation of the practicality in Rose Mary's sentiment. "Hegave me two sows, each with a litter of pigs, for a wedding presentand said they'd be a heap more to me than any kind of jimcracks hecould er bought for half the money they'd bring. And they was, for, indue course of time, I sold all them hogs and bought the plushfurniture in the front room, melojeon and all. Now Mr. Rucker, he giveme a ring with a blue set and 'darling' printed inside it that costfifty cents extra, and Jennie Rucker swallowed that ring before shewas a year old. I guess she has got it growed up inside her, for all Iknow of it, and her Paw is a-setting on Mr. Satterwhite's furniture atpresent, speaking still. Sometimes it makes me feel sad to think ofMr. Satterwhite when Cal Rucker spells out, _Shall we meet beyond theriver_ with two fingers on that melojeon. But then I even up myfeelings by remembering how Cal let me name Pete for Mr. Satterwhite,which is a second-husband compliment they don't many men pass; and itpleased Granny so."

  "Mr. Rucker is always nice to Granny Satterwhite," said Rose Mary withthe evident intention of extolling the present incumbent of thehusband office to her friend. But at the mention of his name a momentearlier, young Peter, the bond between the past and present, hadsidled out the door and proceeded to sit calmly down on the ripplingsurface of the spring branch. His rescue and retirement necessitatedhis mother's departure and Everett was left in command of thetwo-alone situation he desired.

  "Hasn't this been a lovely, long day?" asked Rose Mary as she turnedthe butter into a large jar and pressed a white cloth close over itwith a stone top. "To-night is the full April moon and I've got asurprise for you, if you don't find it out too soon. Will you walkover to Tilting Rock, beyond the barn-lot, with me after supper andlet me show you?"

  "Will I cross the fields of Elysium to gaze over the pearly ramparts?"demanded Everett with boyish enthusiasm, if not a wholly accurate useof mythological metaphor. "Let's cut supper and go on now! What do yousay? Why wait?"

  "I'm afraid," laughed Rose Mary as she prepared to close up the widewindow and leave everything in shipshape for the night. "A womanoughtn't to risk feeding a hungry man cold moonbeams instead of hothoecake. Besides, I have to see everybody safely tucked in before Ican leave. Aren't they all a precious houseful of early-to-bedchickens? The old Sweeties have forgotten there is such a thing as themoon and Stonie hasn't--found it out--yet." And with a mischievousbackward glance, Rose Mary led the way up the lilac path to the Briarson top of the hill just as the old bell sounded two wobbly notes,their uncertainty caused by the rivalry of the General and Tobe overthe pulling of the ropes.

  And it was quite two hours later that she and Everett made their wayacross the barn-lot over to the broad, moss-covered Tilting Rock thatjutted out from a little hackberry-covered knoll at the far end of thepasture.

  "Now look--and smell in deep!" exclaimed Rose Mary excitedly as shepointed back to the Briars.

  "Why--why!" exclaimed Everett under his breath, "it's enchantment!It's a dream--am I awake?"

  And indeed a very vision spread itself out before the wondering man.The low roof and wide wings of the Briars, with the delicate traceriesof vines over the walls and gables, shone a soft, old-brick pink inthe glow of moonlight, and over and around it all gushed a very showerof shimmering white blossoms, surrounding the house like a mist aroundan early blooming rose. And as he looked, wave on wave of fragrancebeat against Everett's face and poured over his head.

  "What is it?" he demanded breathlessly, as if dizzy from a too deepdrinking of the perfume.

  "Don't you know? It's the locust trees that have bloomed out sincesunset!" exclaimed Rose Mary in as breathless a tone as his own. "Fora week I have been watching and hoping they would be out in the fullmoon. They are so delicate that the least little cold wind sets themback days or destroys them altogether. I wanted them so very much thisyear for you, and I was so afraid you would notice them before we gotover here where you could get the full effect. I promised you lilacsfor being good, but this is just because--because--"

  "Because what?" asked Everett quietly.

  "Because I felt you would appreciate it," answered Rose Mary, as shesank down on the stone that still held a trace of the warmth from thesun, and made room for Everett beside her with one of her ever-ready,gracious little gestures. "And it's lovely to have you here to look atit with me," she added. "So many times I have sat here alone with themiracle, and my heart has ached for the whole world to get the visionof it at least. I've tried sending my love of it out in little locustprayers to folks over the Ridge. Did you ever happen to get one anyspring?"

  "Last April I turned down a commission for a false test for thebiggest squeeze-out copper people in the world, fifty thousand in itto me. I thought it was moral courage, but I know now it was just onaccount of the locusts blooming in Harpeth Valley at Sweetbriar. Doyou get any connection?" he demanded lightly, if a bit unevenly.

  "To think that would be worth all the loneliness," answered Rose Marygently. "Things were very hard for me the first year I had to comeback from college. I used to sit here by the hour and watch ProvidenceRoad wind away over the Ridge and nothing ever seemed to come or gofor me. But that was only for a little while, and now I never get thetime to breathe between the things that happen along Providence Roadfor me to attend to. I came back to Sweetbriar like an empty crock,with just
dregs of disappointment at the bottom, and now I'm all readyevery morning to have five gallons of lovely folks-happenings pouredinto a two-and-a-half-gallon capacity. I wish I were twins or twice asmuch me."

  "Why, you have never told me before, Rose Mary, that you belong to thenew-woman persuasion, with a college hall-mark and suffragistleanings. I have made the mistake of putting you in the home-guardbrigade and classing you fifty years behind your times. Don't tell meyou have an M.A. I can't stand it to-night."

  "No, I haven't got one," answered Rose Mary with both a smile and alonging in her voice. "I came home in the winter of my junior year.My father was one of the Harpeth Valley boys who went out into theworld, and he came back to die under the roof where his fathers hadfought off the Indians, and he brought poor little motherless me toleave with the aunts and Uncle Tucker. They loved me and cared for mejust as they did Uncle Tucker's son, who was motherless, too, and afew years after he went out into the world to seek the fortune he feltso sure of, I was given my chance at college. In my senior year histragedy came and I hurried back to find Uncle Tucker broken and oldwith the horror of it, and with the place practically sold to avoidopen disgrace. His son died that year and left--left--some day I willtell you the rest of it. I might have gone back into the world andmade a success of things and helped them in that way, from adistance--but what they needed was--was me. And so I sat here manysunset hours of loneliness and looked along Providence Roaduntil--until I think the Master must have passed this way and left meHis peace, though my mortal eyes didn't see Him. And now there lies myhome nest swung in a bower of blossoms full of the old sweetie birds,the boy, the calf, puppy babies, pester chickens and--and I'm going totake a large, gray, prowling night-bird back and tuck him away forfear his cheeks will look hollow in the morning. I'm the mother bird,and while I know He watches with me all through the night, sometimes Ising in the dark because I and my nesties are close to Him and I'm notthe least bit afraid."

  "I hope you feel easy in your mind now"]