Part 22 (1/2)
”Why, Mrs. Owsley!” an accusing voice cried from the window. ”He made us promise not to tell who he was!”
”'N' I don't kyeer what he done!” the imperturbable one answered. ”I want ye-all ter know I don't take nuthin' underhand from n.o.body, less'n hit's my man, Bill!”
The accuser ducked from sight.
”Do you mean,” Jane asked, ”a man about twenty-four, or five, or six, or maybe seven--with sort of brown or grayish eyes, and--and rather handsome?”
”I don't know nuthin' 'bout all them colors in his eyes. I don't know nuthin' 'bout that,” she repeated, ”but I do 'llow he smoked them vile cigarettes till a body couldn't breathe!”
Jane's eyes left the mother of nine, swept past Nancy whom she saw still bending over her work, and finally rested in the shadows of some cool ferns. This somewhat unexpected announcement sent a wave of pleasure--evanescent, perhaps hardly perceptible--sweeping over her.
Rather abruptly she said:
”I think your gingham looks very well, but you might get a nice print--if you'll have time to make it!”
”That's jest what I war a-thinkin' t'other day,” the impa.s.sive face replied. ”Red, with white dots on hit, sez I ter Mother Owsley, is jest the nicest thing! 'N' I sez ter Mister Bowser as how I hankered fer a dress like that; but he sez he done quit keepin' hit no moh. He sez he did hev a sight of hit onct, but so many of the wimmin folks come in ter buy hit, 'n' hit war sech a sight of trubble gittin' up 'n' settin' down agin, cuttin' off pieces 'n' waitin' on 'em, that he jest th'owed out what he had left 'n' allowed he wouldn't buy no moh.”
This was all very serious to Mrs. Owsley and Jane replied in the same vein:
”Then a blue polka dot. I know he has that, and maybe I can help you make it up.”
”Thank-ee,” she turned to go back, ”but I reckon Mother Owsley's Cyantha kin help some.” She stood a moment, hesitating, then faced around, asking: ”Ye hain't got a primer, or sumthin', I kin take ter Mother Owsley, hev ye? She's been hankerin' so ter larn a mite of readin' 'n'
writin' since I went thar, 'n' can't git out ter come down hyar!”
”Is she too feeble?” Jane sympathetically asked.
”No, she hain't feeble; but she's got the c.r.a.ps ter look arter. Mother Owsley's right peert, but with sech a sight ter do 'tween sun-up 'n'
dark holds her 'round home right tight. Her man's been crippled 'n'
pohly fer a spell.”
”Could she leave him to come here to a moonlight school?” Jane asked; an idea that had been forming for sometime now suddenly receiving fresh impetus. ”Maybe even your Bill could come, and the children, too!”
Mrs. Owsley's hesitation showed her to be on unfamiliar ground, and Jane, who had spoken impulsively, added: ”I'll talk to you about it this afternoon,” whereupon the mountain woman this time went in.
”Now!” Nancy exclaimed, holding up her paper of long division. ”It's come out even!”
”Good!--it's a hard one, too!”
”You bet it's a hard one,” Nancy straightened her shoulders.
”We won't work any more today,” Jane said and, after a pause, asked: ”Did you hear what Mrs. Owsley and I were talking about?”
”I was tryin' to,” Nancy laughed. ”But this last old thing wouldn't come out even so I had to bring down two moh noughts, an' that sort of mixed me up! Is her husband out of the pen?”
”Mercy! I didn't know he was there!”
”I don't either, but she said somethin' 'bout a trusty, an' I just supposed it was him.”
Jane began to laugh, somewhat immoderately for a teacher, and several heads appeared at the window in giggling surprise. She had become quite suddenly and thoroughly happy.