Books: Miss Minerva and William Green Hill
F >>
Frances Boyd Calhoun >> Miss Minerva and William Green Hill
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
7 |
8 MISS MINERVA AND WILLIAM GREEN HILL
BY FRANCES BOYD CALHOUN
MISS MINERVA and
WILLIAM GREEN HILL
CHAPTER I
A SCANDALIZED VIRGIN
The bus drove up to the gate and stopped under the electric
street-light. Perched on the box by the big, black negro driver
sat a little boy whose slender figure was swathed in a huge rain
coat.
Miss Minerva was on the porch waiting to receive him.
"Mercy on me, child," she said, "what on earth made you ride up
there? Why didn't you get inside?"
"I jest wanted to ride by Sam Lamb," replied the child as he was
lifted down. "An' I see a nice fat little man name' Major--"
"He jes' wouldn' ride inside, Miss Minerva," interrupted the
driver, quickly, to pass over the blush that rose to the
spinster's thin cheek at mention of the Major. "Twan't no use
fer ter try ter make him ride nowhars but jes' up by me. He jes'
'fused an' 'fused an' 'sputed an' 'sputed; he jes' tuck ter me
f'om de minute he got off 'm de train an' sot eyes on me; he am
one easy chile ter git 'quainted wid; so, I jes' h'isted him up
by me. Here am his verlise, ma'am."
"Good-bye, Sam Lamb," said the child as the negro got back on the
box and gathered up the reins. "I'll see you to-morrer."
Miss Minerva imprinted a thin, old-maid kiss on the sweet,
childish mouth. "I am your Aunt Minerva," she said, as she
picked up his satchel.
The little boy carelessly drew the back of his hand across his
mouth.
"What are you doing?" she asked. "Are you wiping my kiss off?"
"Naw 'm," he replied, "I's jest a--I's a-rubbin' it in, I
reckon."
"Come in, William," and his aunt led the way through the wide
hall into w big bedroom.
"Billy, ma'am," corrected her nephew.
"William," firmly repeated Miss Minerva. "You may have been
called Billy on that plantation where you were allowed to run
wild with the negroes, but your name is William Green Hill and
I shall insist upon your being called by it."
She stooped to help him off with his coat, remarking as she did
so, "What a big overcoat; it is several sizes too large for you."
"Darned if 'tain't," agreed the child promptly.
"Who taught you such a naughty word?" she asked in a horrified
voice. "Don't you know it is wrong to curse?"
"You call that cussin'?" came in scornful tones from the little
boy. "You don't know cussin' when you see it; you jest oughter
hear ole Uncle Jimmy-Jawed Jup'ter, Aunt Cindy's husban'; he'll
show you somer the pretties' cussin' you ever did hear."
"Who is Aunt Cindy?"
"She's the colored 'oman what 'tends to me ever sence me an'
Wilkes Booth Lincoln's born, an' Uncle Jup'ter is her husban'
an' he sho' is a stingeree on cussin'. Is yo' husban' much of
a cusser?" he inquired.
A pale pink dyed Miss Minerva's thin, sallow face.
"I am not a married woman," she replied, curtly, "and I most
assuredly would not permit any oaths to be used on my premises."
"Well, Uncle Jimmy-Jawed Jup'ter is jest nach'elly boon' to
cuss,--he's got a repertation to keep up," said Billy.
He sat down in a chair in front of his aunt, crossed his legs
and smiled confidentially up into her face.
"Hell an' damn is jest easy ev'y day words to that nigger. I
wish you could hear him cuss on a Sunday jest one time, Aunt
Minerva; he'd sho' make you open yo' eyes an' take in yo' sign.
But Aunt Cindy don't 'low me an' Wilkes Booth Lincoln to say
nothin' 't all only jest `darn' tell we gits grown mens, an'
puts on long pants."
"Wilkes Booth Lincoln?" questioned his aunt.
"Ain't you never hear teller him?" asked the child. "He's ole
Aunt Blue-Gum Tempy's Peruny Pearline's boy; an' Peruny
Pearline," he continued enthusiastically, "she ain't no ord'nary
nigger, her hair ain't got nare kink an' she's got the grandes'
clo'es. They ain't nothin' snide 'bout her. She got ten
chillens an' ev'y single one of 'em's got a diff'unt pappy,
she been married so much. They do say she got Injun blood
in her, too."
Miss Minerva, who had been standing prim, erect, and stiff, fell
limply into a convenient rocking chair, and looked closely at
this orphaned nephew who had come to live with her.
She saw a beautiful, bright, attractive, little face out of which
big, saucy, grey eyes shaded by long curling black lashes looked
winningly at her; she saw a sweet, childish, red mouth, a mass of
short, yellow curls, and a thin but graceful little figure.
"I knows the names of aller ole Aunt Blue-Gum Tempy's Peruny
Pearline's chillens," he was saying proudly: "Admiral Farragut
Moses the Prophet Esquire, he's the bigges'; an' Alice Ann Maria
Dan Step-an'-Go-Fetch-It, she had to nuss all the res.'; she say
fas' as she git th'oo nussin' one an' 'low she goin' to have a
breathin' spell here come another one an' she got to nuss it.
An' the nex' is Mount Sinai Tabernicle, he name fer the church
where of Aunt BlueGum Tempy's Peruny Pearline takes her
sackerment; an' the nex' is First Thessalonians; Second
Thessalonians, he's dead an' gone to the Bad Place 'cause he skunt
a cat,--I don't mean skin the cat on a actin' role like me an'
Wilkes Booth Lincoln does,--he skunt a sho' 'nough cat what was a
black cat, what was a ole witch, an' she come back an' ha'nt him
an' he growed thinner an' thinner an' weasler an' weasler, tell
finely he wan't nothin' 't all but a skel'ton, an' the Bad Man
won't 'low nobody 't all to give his parch' tongue no water, an'
he got to, ever after amen, be toast on a pitchfork. An' Oleander
Magnolia Althea is the nex'," he continued, enumerating Peruny
Pearline's offspring on his thin, well molded fingers, "she got
the seven year itch; an' Gettysburg, an' Biddle-&-Brothers-Mercantile-Co.;
he name fer the sto' where ole Aunt Blue-Gum Tempy's Peruny Pearline
gits credit so she can pay when she fetches in her cotton in the
fall; an' Wilkes Booth Lincoln, him an' me's twins, we was borned
the same day only I's borned to my mama an' he's borned to his 'n
an' Doctor Jenkins fetched me an' Doctor Shacklefoot fetched him.
An' Decimus Ultimus,"--the little boy triumphantly put his right
forefinger on his left little one, thus making the tenth, "she's
the baby an' she's got the colic an' cries loud 'nough to wake
up Israel; Wilkes Booth Lincoln say he wish the little devil
would die. Peruny Pearline firs' name her `Doctor Shacklefoot'
'cause he fetches all her chillens, but the doctor he say that
ain't no name fer a girl, so he name her Decimus Ultimus."
Miss Minerva, sober, proper, dignified, religious old maid unused
to children, listened in frozen amazement and paralyzed silence.
She decided to put the child to bed at once that she might
collect her thoughts, and lay some plans for the rearing of this
sadly neglected, little orphaned nephew.
"William," she said, "it is bedtime, and I know you must be
sleepy after your long ride on the cars. Would you like
something to eat before I put you to bed? I saved you some supper."
"Naw 'm, I ain't hongry; the Major man what I talk to on the
train tuck me in the dinin'-room an' gimme all I could hol'; I
jest eat an' eat tell they wan't a wrinkle in me," was the reply.
"He axed me 'bout you, too. Is he name' Major Minerva?"
She opened a door in considerable confusion, and they entered a
small, neat room adjoining.
"This is your own little room, William," said she, "you see it
opens into mine. Have you a nightshirt?"
"Naw 'm, I don' need no night-shirt. I jest sleeps in my unions
and sometimes in my overalls."
"Well, you may sleep in your union suit to-night," said his
scandalized relative, "and I'll see what I can do for you
to-morrow. Can you undress yourself?"
Her small nephew wrinkled his nose, disdainfully. "Well, I
reckon so," he scornfully made answer. "Me an' Wilkes Booth
Lincoln been undressin' usself ever sence we's born."
"I'll come in here after a while and turn off the light.
Good-night, William."
"Good-night, Aunt Minerva," responded the little boy.
CHAPTER II
THE RABBIT'S LEFT HIND FOOT
A few minutes later, as Miss Minerva sat rocking and thinking,
the door opened and a lean, graceful, little figure, clad in a
skinny, grey union suit, came into the room.
"Ain't I a-goin' to say no prayers?" demanded a sweet, childish
voice. "Aunt Cindy hear me an' Wilkes Booth Lincoln say us
prayers ev'y night sence we's born."
"Why, of course you must say your prayers," said his aunt,
blushing at having to be reminded of her duty by this young
heathen; "kneel down here by me."
Billy looked at his aunt's bony frame and thought of Aunt Cindy's
soft, fat, ample lap. A wistful look crossed his childish face
as
he dropped down in front of her and laid his head against her
knee, then the bright, beautiful little face took on an angelic
expression as he closed his eyes and softly chanted: "`Now I lays
me down to sleep, I prays the Lord my soul to keep, If I should
die befo' I wake, I prays the Lord my soul to take.
"`Keep way f'om me hoodoo an' witch, Lead my paf f'om the
po'-house gate, I pines fey the golden harps an' sich, Oh, Lord,
I'll set an' pray an' wait.' "Oh, Lord, bless ev'ybody; bless me
an' Aunt Cindy, an' Wilkes Booth Lincoln, an' Aunt Blue-Gum
Tempy's Peruny Pearline, an' Uncle Jimmy-Jawed Jup'ter, an'
ev'ybody, an' Sam Lamb, an' Aunt Minerva, an' alley Aunt
Blue-Gum Tempy's Peruny Pearline's chillens, an' give Aunt
Minerva a billy goat or a little nanny if she'd ruther, an'
bless Major Minerva, an' make me a good boy like Sanctified
Sophy, fey Jesus' sake. Amen."
"What is that you have tied around your neck, William?" she
asked, as the little boy rose to his feet.
"That's my rabbit foot; you won't never have no 'sease 't all an'
nobody can't never conjure you if you wears a rabbit foot. This
here one is the lef' hin' foot; it was ketched by a red-headed
nigger with crosseyes in a graveyard at twelve er'clock on a
Friday night, when they's a full moon. He give it to Aunt Cindy
to tie 'roun' my nake when I's a baby. Ain't you got no abbit
foot?" he anxiously inquired.
"No," she answered. "I have never had one and I have never been
conjured either. Give it to me, William; I can not allow you to
be so superstitious," and she held out her hand.
"Please, Aunt Minerva, jest lemme wear it to-night," he pleaded.
"Me an' Wilkes Booth Lincoln's been wearin' us rabbit foots ever
sence we's born."
"No," she said firmly; "I'll put a stop to such nonsense at
once. Give it to me, William."
Billy looked at his aunt's austere countenance and lovingly
fingered his charm; he opened his mouth to say something, but
hesitated; slowly he untied the string around his neck and laid
his treasure on her lap; then without looking up, he ran into his
own little room, closing the door behind him.
Soon afterward Miss Minerva, hearing a sound like a stifled sob
coming from the adjoining room, opened the door softly and looked
into a sad, little face with big, wide, open eyes shining with
tears.
"What is the matter, William?" she coldly asked.
"I ain't never slep' by myself," he sobbed. "Wilkes Booth
Lincoln always sleep on a pallet by my bed ever sence we's born
an'--'I wants Aunt Cindy to tell me 'bout Uncle Piljerk Peter."
His aunt sat down on the bed by his side. She was not versed in
the ways of childhood and could not know that the little boy
wanted to pillow his head on Aunt Cindy's soft and ample bosom,
that he was homesick for his black friends, the only companions
he had ever known.
"I'll you a Bible story," she temporized. "You must not be a
baby. You are not afraid, are you, William? God is always with
you."
"I don' want no God," he sullenly made reply, "I wants somebody
with sho' 'nough skin an' bones, an'--n' I wants to hear 'bout
Uncle Piljerk Peter."
"I will tell you a Bible story," again suggested his aunt, "I
will tell you about--"
"I don' want to hear no Bible story, neither," he objected, "I
wants to hear Uncle Jimmy-Jawed Jup'ter play his 'corjun an'
sing:
"'Rabbit up the gum tree, Coon is in the holler
Wake, snake; Juney-Bug stole a half a dollar."'
"I'll sing you a hymn," said Miss Minerva patiently.
"I don' want to hear you sing no hymn," said Billy impolitely.
"I wants to see Sanctified Sophy shout."
As his aunt could think of no substitute with which to tempt
him in lieu of Sanctified Sophy's shouting, she remained silent.
"An' I wants Wilkes Booth Lincoln to dance a clog," persisted
her nephew.
Miss Minerva still remained silent. She felt unable to cope
with the situation till she had adjusted her thoughts and made
her plans.
Presently Billy, looking at her shrewdly, said:
"Gimme my rabbit foot, Aunt Minerva, an' I'll go right off to
sleep."
When she again looked in on him he was fast asleep, a rosy
flush on his babyish, tearstained cheek, his red lips half
parted, his curly head pillowed on his arm, and close against his
soft, young throat there nestled the left hind foot of a rabbit.
Miss Minerva's bed time was half after nine o'clock, summer or
winter. She had hardly varied a second in the years that had
elapsed since the runaway marriage of her only relative, the
young sister whose child had now come to live with her. But on
the night of Billy's arrival the stern, narrow woman sat for
hours in her rocking chair, her mind busy with thoughts of that
pretty young sister, dead since the boy's birth.
And now the wild, reckless, dissipated brother-in-law was dead,
too, and the child had been sent to her; to the aunt who did not
want him, who did not care for children, who had never forgiven
her sister her unfortunate marriage. "If he had only been a
girl," she sighed. What she believed to be a happy thought
entered her brain.
"I shall rear him," she promised herself, "just as if he were a
little girl; then he will be both a pleasure and a comfort to me,
and a companion for my loneliness."
Miss Minerva was strictly methodical; she worked ever by the
clock, so many hours for this, so many minutes for that.
William, she now resolved, for the first time becoming really
interested in him, should grow up to be a model young man,
a splendid and wonderful piece of mechanism, a fine, practical,
machine-like individual, moral, upright, religious. She was glad
that he was young; she would begin his training on the morrow.
She would teach him to sew, to sweep, to churn, to cook, and when
he was older he should be educated for the ministry.
"Yes," said Miss Minerva; "I shall be very strict with him just
at first, and punish him for the slightest disobedience or
misdemeanor, and he will soon learn that my authority is not to
be questioned."
And the little boy who had never had a restraining hand laid upon
him in his short life? He slept sweetly and innocently in the
next room dreaming of the care-free existence on the plantation
and of his idle, happy, negro companions.
CHAPTER III
THE WILLING WORKER
"Get up, William," said Miss Minerva, "and come with me to the
bath-room; I have fixed your bath."
The child's sleepy eyes popped wide open at this astounding
command.
"Ain't this-here Wednesday?" he asked sharply.
"Yes; to-day is Wednesday. Hurry up or your water will get
cold."
"Well, me an' Wilkes Booth Lincoln jest washed las' Sat'day. We
ain't got to wash no mo' till nex' Sat'day," he argued.
"Oh, yes," said his relative; "you must bathe every day."
"Me an' Wilkes Booth Lincoln ain't never wash on a Wednesday
sence we's born," he protested indignantly.
Billy's idea of a bath was taken from the severe weekly scrubbing
which Aunt Cindy gave him with a hard washrag, and he felt that
he'd rather die at once than have to bathe every day.
He followed his aunt dolefully to the bath-room at the end of the
long back-porch of the old-fashioned, one-story house; but once
in the big white tub he was delighted.
In fact he stayed in it so long Miss Minerva had to knock on the
door and tell him to hurry up and get ready for breakfast.
"Say," he yelled out to her, "I likes this here; it's mos' as
fine as Johnny's Wash Hole where me and' Wilkes Booth Lincoln
goes in swimmin' ever sence we's born."
When he came into the dining-room he was a sight to gladden even
a prim old maid's heart. The water had curled his hair into
riotous yellow ringlets, his bright eyes gleamed, his beautiful,
expressive little face shone happily, and every movement of his
agile, lithe figure was grace itself.
"I sho' is hongry," he remarked, as he took his seat at the
breakfast table.
Miss Minerva realized that now was the time to begin her small
nephew's training; if she was ever to teach him to speak
correctly she must begin at once.
"William," she said sternly, "you must not talk so much like a
negro. Instead of saying `I sho' is hongry,' you should say,
`I am very hungry.' Listen to me and try to speak more
correctly."
"Don't! don't!" she screamed as he helped himself to the meat
and gravy, leaving a little brown river on her fresh white
tablecloth. "Wait until I ask a blessing; then I will help you
to what you want."
Billy enjoyed his breakfast very much. "These muffins sho' is--"
he began; catching his aunt's eye he corrected himself--"
"These muffins am very good."
"These muffins are very good," said Miss Minerva patiently.
"Did you ever eat any bobbycued rabbit?" he asked. "Me an'
Wilkes Booth Lincoln been eatin' chit'lins, an' sweet 'taters, an'
'possum, an' squirrel, an' hoecake, an' Brunswick stew ever sence
we's born," was his proud announcement.
"Use your napkin," commanded she, "and don't fill your mouth so
full."
The little boy flooded his plate with syrup.
"These-here 'lasses sho' is--" he began, but instantly
remembering that he must be more particular in his speech,
he stammered out:
"These-here sho' is--am--are a nice messer 'lasses. I ain't
never eat sech a good bait. They sho' is--I aimed to say--these
'lasses sho' are a bird; they's 'nother sight tastier 'n
sorghum, an' Aunt Cindy 'lows that sorghum is the very penurity
of a nigger."
She did not again correct him.
"I must be very patient," she thought, "and go very slowly. I
must not expect too much of him at first."
After breakfast Miss Minerva, who would not keep a servant,
preferring to do her own work, tied a big cook-apron around the
little boy's neck, and told him to churn while she washed the
dishes. This arrangement did not suit Billy.
"Boys don't churn," he said sullenly, "me an' Wilkes Booth
Lincoln don' never have to churn sence we's born; 'omans has to
churn an' I ain't agoing to. Major Minerva--he ain't never
churn," he began belligerently but his relative turned an
uncompromising and rather perturbed back upon him. Realizing
that he was beaten, he submitted to his fate, clutched the dasher
angrily, and began his weary work.
He was glad his little black friend did not witness his disgrace.
As he thought of Wilkes Booth Lincoln the big tears came into his
eyes and rolled down his cheeks; he leaned way over the churn and
the great glistening tears splashed right into the hole made for
the dasher, and rolled into the milk.
Billy grew interested at once and laughed aloud; he puckered up
his face and tried to weep again, for he wanted more tears to
fall into the churn; but the tears refused to come and he
couldn't squeeze another one out of his eyes.
"Aunt Minerva," he said mischievously, "I done ruint yo'
buttermilk."
"What have you done?" she inquired.
"It's done ruint," he replied, "you'll hafter th'ow it away; 't
ain't fitten fer nothin.' I done cried 'bout a bucketful in it."
"Why did you cry?" asked Miss Minerva calmly. "Don't you like to
work?"
"Yes 'm, I jes' loves to work; I wish I had time to work all the
time. But it makes my belly ache to churn,--I got a awful pain
right now."
"Churn on!" she commanded unsympathetically.
He grabbed the dasher and churned vigorously for one minute.
"I reckon the butter's done come," he announced, resting from
his labors.
"It hasn't begun to come yet," replied the exasperated woman.
"Don't waste so much time, William."
The child churned in silence for the space of two minutes, and
suggested: "It's time to put hot water in it; Aunt Cindy always
puts hot water in it. Lemme git some fer you."
"I never put hot water in my milk," said she, "it makes the
butter puffy. Work more and talk less, William."
Again there was a brief silence, broken only by the sound of the
dasher thumping against the bottom of the churn, and the rattle
of the dishes.
"I sho' is tired," he presently remarked, heaving a deep sigh.
"My arms is 'bout give out, Aunt Minerva. Ole Aunt Blue-Gum
Tempy's Peruny Pearline see a man churn with his toes; lemme git
a chair an' see if I can't churn with my toes."
"Indeed you shall not," responded his annoyed relative
positively.
"Sanctified Sophy knowed a colored 'oman what had a little dog
went roun' an' roun' an' churn fer her," remarked Billy after a
short pause. "If you had a billy goat or a little nanny I could
hitch him to the churn fer you ev'ry day."
"William," commanded his aunt, "don't say another word until you
have finished your work."
"Can't I sing?" he asked.
She nodded permission as she went through the open door into the
dining-room.
Returning a few minutes later she found him sitting astride the
churn, using the dasher so vigorously that buttermilk was
splashing in every direction, and singing in a clear, sweet voice:
"He'll feed you when you's naked,
The orphan stear he'll dry,
He'll clothe you when you's hongry
An' take you when you die."
Miss Minerva jerked him off with no gentle hand.
"What I done now?" asked the boy innocently. "'tain't no harm as
I can see jes' to straddle a churn."
"Go out in the front yard," commanded his aunt, "and sit in the
swing till I call you. I'll finish the work without your
assistance. And, William," she called after him, "there is a
very bad little boy who lives next door; I want you to have as
little to do with him as possible."
CHAPTER IV
SWEETHEART AND PARTNER
Billy was sitting quietly in the big lawn-swing when his aunt,
dressed for the street, finally came through the front door.
"I am going up-town, William," she said, "I want to buy you some
things that you may go with me to church Sunday. Have you ever
been to Sunday-School?"
"Naw 'm; but I been to pertracted meetin'," came the ready
response, "I see Sanctified Sophy shout tell she tore ev'y rag
offer her back 'ceptin' a shimmy. She's one 'oman what sho' is
got 'ligion; she ain't never backslid 't all, an' she ain't never
fell f'om grace but one time--"
"Stay right in the yard till I come back. Sit in the swing and
don't go outside the front yard. I shan't be gone long," said
Miss Minerva.
His aunt had hardly left the gate before Billy caught sight of a
round, fat little face peering at him through the palings which
separated Miss Minerva's yard from that of her next-door
neighbor.
"Hello!" shouted Billy. "Is you the bad little boy what can't
play with me?"
"What you doing in Miss Minerva's yard?" came the answering
interrogation across the fence.
"I's come to live with her," replied Billy. "My mama an' papa is
dead. What's yo' name?"
"I'm Jimmy Garner. How old are you? I'm most six, I am."
"Shucks, I's already six, a-going on seven. Come on, le's
swing."
"Can't," said the new acquaintance, "I've runned off once to-day,
and got licked for it."
"I ain't never got no whippin' sence me an' Wilkes Booth Lincoln
's born," boasted Billy.
"Ain't you?" asked Jimmy. "I 'spec' I been whipped more 'n a
million times, my mama is so pertic'lar with me. She's 'bout the
pertic'larest woman ever was; she don't 'low me to leave the yard
'thout I get a whipping. I believe I will come over to see you
'bout half a minute."
Suiting the action to the word Jimmy climbed the fence, and the
two little boys were soon comfortably settled facing each other
in the big lawn-swing.
"Who lives over there?" asked Billy, pointing to the house across
the street.
"That's Miss Cecilia's house. That's her coming out of the front
gate now."
The young lady smiled and waved her hand at them.
"Ain't she a peach?" asked Jimmy. "She's my sweetheart and she
is 'bout the swellest sweetheart they is."
"She's mine, too," promptly replied Billy, who had fallen in love
at first sight. "I's a-goin' to have her fer my sweetheart too."
"Naw, she ain't yours, neither; she's mine," angrily declared
the other little boy, kicking his rival's legs. "You all time
talking 'bout you going to have Miss Cecilia for your sweetheart.
She's done already promised me."
"I'll tell you what," proposed Billy, "lemme have her an' you
can have Aunt Minerva."
"I wouldn't have Miss Minerva to save your life," replied Jimmy
disrespectfully, "her nake ain't no bigger 'n that," making a
circle of his thumb and forefinger. "Miss Cecilia, Miss
Cecilia," he shrieked tantalizingly, "is my sweetheart."
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
7 |
8