The Prophet of the Great Smoky Mountains | Page 2

waving about her shoulders, her blue skirts fluttering among the blades of corn, a winged shadow sweeping along as if attendant upon her, while a dove flew high above to its nest in the pines, he raised his hand with an imperative gesture, and she paused obediently. He had flushed deeply; the smouldering fire in his eyes was kindling. He leaned across the few rows of corn that stood between them.
"I hev a word ter ax right now. Who air under conviction hyar?" he demanded.
She seemed a trifle startled. Her grasp shifted uncertainly on the plough-handles, and the old ox, accustomed to rest only at the turnrow, mistook her intention, and started off. She stopped him with some difficulty, and then, "Convicted of sin?" she asked, in a voice that showed her appreciation of the solemnity of the subject.
"I hev said it," the young man declared, with a half-suppressed irritation which confused her.
She remained silent.
"Mebbe it air yer granny," he suggested, with a sneer.
She recoiled, with palpable surprise. "Granny made her peace fifty year ago," she declared, with pride in this anciently acquired grace, - "fifty year an' better."
"The boys air convicted, then?" he asked, still leaning over the corn and still sneering.
"The boys hev got thar religion, too," she faltered, looking at him with wide eyes, brilliant with astonishment, and yet a trifle dismayed. Suddenly, she threw herself into her wonted confiding attitude, leaning upon her plough-handles, and with an appealing glance began an extenuation of her spiritual poverty: "'Pears like ez I hev never hed a call ter tell you-uns afore ez I hev hed no time yit ter git my religion. Granny bein' old, an' the boys at the still, I hev hed ter spin, an' weave, an' cook, an' sew, an' plough some, - the boys bein' mos'ly at the still. An' then, thar be Mirandy Jane, my brother Ab's darter, ez I hev hed ter l'arn how ter cook vittles. When I went down yander ter my aunt Jerushy's house in Tuckaleechee Cove, ter holp her some with weavin', I war plumb cur'ous ter know how Mirandy Jane would make out whilst I war gone. They 'lowed ez she hed cooked the vittles toler'ble, but ef she had washed a skillet or a platter in them three days I couldn't find it."
Her tone was stern; all the outraged housekeeper was astir within her.
He said nothing, and she presently continued discursively, still leaning on the plough-handles: "I never stayed away but them three days. I war n't sati'fied in my mind, nohow, whilst I bided down thar in Tuckaleechee Cove. I hankered cornsider'ble arter the baby. He air three year old now, an' I hev keered fur him ever sence his mother died, - my brother Ab's wife, ye know, - two year ago an' better. They hed fedded him toler'ble whilst I war away, an' I fund him fat ez common. But they hed crost him somehows, an' he war ailin' in his temper when I got home, an' hed ter hev cornsider'ble coddlin'."
She paused before the rising anger in his eyes.
"Why air Mirandy Jane called ter l'arn how ter cook vittles?" he demanded, irrelevantly, it might have seemed.
She looked at him in deprecating surprise. Yet she turned at bay.
"I hev never hearn ez ye war convicted yerself, Rick Tyler!" she said, tartly. "Ye war never so much ez seen a-scoutin' round the mourner's bench. Ef I hev got no religion, ye hev got none, nuther."
"Ye air minded ter git married, D'rindy Cayce," he said, severely, solving his own problem, "an' that's why Mirandy Jane hev got ter be l'arned ter take yer place at home."
He produced this as if it were an accusation.
She drew back, indignant and affronted, and with a rigid air of offended propriety. "I hev no call ter spen' words 'bout sech ez that, with a free-spoken man like you-uns," she staidly asseverated; and then she was about to move on. Accepting her view of the gross unseemliness of his mention of the subject, the young fellow's anger gave way to contrition. "Waal, D'rindy," he said, in an eager, apologetic tone, "I hev seen that critter, that thar preacher, a-hangin' round you-uns's house a powerful deal lately, whilst I hev been obleeged ter hide out in the woods. An' bein' ez nobody thar owns up ter needin' religion but ye, I reckoned he war a-tryin' ter git ye ter take him an' grace tergether. That man hev got his mouth stuffed chock full o' words, - more'n enny other man I ever see," he added, with an expression of deep disgust.
Dorinda might be thought to abuse her opportunities. "He ain't studyin' 'bout'n me, no more'n I be 'bout'n him," she said, with scant relish for the spectacle of Rick Tyler's jealousy.