twenty-seventh year,and she was a wonderful woman, though she did have three girls and onlyone son. There is a section of her notes devoted to cows and theirdiseases, and Sam might be interested to hear how she managed them sothat even then her cows sold for enormous sums. Suppose you look over itand tell him about it."
"Oh, I will. Thank you, mother!" I answered, as I took three littlebrown biscuits, to Eph's affectionate delight, and also as a shock tohis proprieties.
I had planned to open the bundle and begin my work for Peter right afterdinner, but I sat down and devoured whole that note-book of my maternalancestor's. I never was so thrilled over anything, and the chapter ongardening really reads like a beautiful idyl of summer. It changed myentire nature. As I read I glowed to think that I could go right toSam's wilderness and try it all out. I didn't own any land, and it mighttake a little time to force daddy to buy me some, and the plantingseason and fever were upon me. There is a wide plateau to the south ofSam's living-room, and I had in my mind cleared it of bushes, enrichedit with all the wonderful things grandmother had directed, beginningwith beautiful dead leaves, and I was planting out the row of greatblush peonies in my mind as I intended to plant it in Sam's garden whenthe tall old clock in the hall toned out four long strokes. Then Iremembered that I wanted to go down to the post-office to get my mailand to see everybody and hear the news. So with the greatest reluctanceI tucked the garden idyl in the old desk which had been that veryGrandmother Nelson's, and heaved Peter's heavy manuscript in on top ofit.
No mass-meeting, no picnic, and no function out in the great world, evenNew-Year's reception at the White House or afternoon tea at the Plaza,could be half the fun that going to the Hayesboro post-office for theafternoon mail is. I think the distinct flavor is imparted by the factthat all our forefathers and foremothers have done it before us. TheHayesboro resurrection will be held right there, I feel sure.
And if mail-time is fun usually, it is great when all the news is aboutyou and your friends all swarm around you with interest. Everybody hadheard about Peter and his play, though neither Edith nor Tolly thoughtthey had told, and that he was soon coming down to visit me, and, ofcourse, that meant to visit all of Hayesboro. Miss Henrietta Spain, whoteaches literature from spelling to the English poets, in the HayesboroAcademy, had read Peter's new poem--the one the _Literary Opinion_ hadcopied last month--and she was pink with excitement over the prospect ofhaving such a genius in our midst,
"Look out that you don't get put in the play on the other side of thefootlights, Hayes," said the mayor, slapping daddy on the back. "Becareful how you have a poet sitting around your house."
"The South has long waited to have a genius come down and write afitting epic about her Homeric drama of Civil War, Elizabeth," said oldColonel Menefee. "Let your young friend come, and I can give himmaterial, beginning with that Bedford Forest charge just beforeChickamauga that--"
"And just remember," interrupted Mrs. Winston Polk, "how Elizabeth'smother, Betty's own Grandmother Nelson, rode fifty miles and back intwenty-four hours to get Morgan to send wagons for her barnful of cornto feed his soldiers, though she and her negroes were dependent on whatshe could grow between then and frost. She never faltered, but--"
"The Nashville and Louisville papers all wrote up the way Clyde Tolbotswam Salt River and stopped the L. & N. express from going down in thecut during the storm last year," Edith hastened to say when Mrs. Folk'sbreath had given out. Tolly's ugly good face was beautiful to see whenshe spoke of him thus, though Edith didn't notice it.
When you start a Harpeth Valley town to telling how wonderful it is tothe third and fourth generation back, it is like a seething torrent andcan go on for ever. I glowed to think of all the wonderful things Icould write Peter, and we all started home from the post-office as lateas supper hour would admit.
After I got home, escorted by the reunited Edith and Tolly, as well asby Billy Robertson, who wants to be Peter's hero, though he wasn'tdirectly saying so, I sat down determinedly to write to Peter atinspiring length and make him feel how I valued his confidence in me,also to mention the war drama. Just then I raised my eyes and thatwonderful notebook had pushed a corner of itself out of the desk fromunder the manuscript. I couldn't use my mind advising between a modernepic and a war drama while it was plowed up ready for peonies, so Idecided to wait and ask Sam's advice about advising Peter, and I readthe rest of the peony pages in comfort. Right then, too, I made up mymind that I was going to get ground bone to plant at the roots of allthe peonies if I had to use my own skeleton to do it and would only seethem bloom with astral eyes.
I was still reading when the supper-bell rang, and was only interestedin reminiscences of Grandmother Nelson during the meal.
"No, ma'am, Miss Caroline, you got it wrong. Ole Mis' didn't divideclover pinks 'cepting every third year 'stid of second. _Hers_ bloomed,they did," Eph interrupted mother to say, indulging in perhaps his firstspeech while waiting on the table during the long and honorable life asa butler which that grandmother had started at his sixth year. He thenretired in the blackest consternation, and his yellow granddaughter, thehouse-girl, brought in the wine-jelly.
One thing is certain--I must contrive some way to get Sam back and forthto me from The Briers in less time than it takes him to walk five miles.He has got just one old roan plow mare and he won't ride her after hehas worked her all day, and I am afraid it won't do for me to go afterhim with Redwheels every time I want him. I can go about two-thirds ofthe time, but he must be allowed some liberty about expressing hisdesire for my company. Of course a tactful woman can go nine-tenths ofthe way in all things to meet a man she likes, and he'll think shehasn't even started from home; but she ought to be honorable enough notto do it at that rate. I believe in liberty for men as well as women.
Still, I can't express the strain it was on me to wait until after eighto'clock for Sam with Grandmother Nelson's farm-book on my knee, and Idon't want to do it ever again, especially if the Byrd or Mammy or thecows or any of the other live stock might be sick. I felt that it mustbe midnight before I got Sam seated by me on the deep old mahogany sofain front of one nice April blaze in behind the brass fender, and underanother from Tolly's power-house. He was pretty tired, as he had been upsince daylight, but the cows were all right and on feed again, Mammywasn't any stiffer than usual, and he had promised the Byrd the firstchicken that the old Dominicker hatched out to stay at home and let himcome to see me. Mammy had sent me five fresh eggs, and Sam presentedthem with a queer pod of little round black seeds, and a smile thatwouldn't look me in the face.
"Hollyhocks! I climbed over the Johnson fence about two miles from townand stole them for you," he said, as he squirmed around from me andpicked a brown burr off the leg of his trousers.
"Aren't they sweeties?" I exclaimed, not noticing his entirelyunnecessary bashfulness. "And that is just what I want to talk to youabout." With which I produced my ancestral treasure, and with our headsclose together we dove into it, didn't come up until after ten o'clock,and then were breathless.
"Oh, Sam, can I do all these things out at your farm?" I exclaimed, andI fairly clung against his shoulder while his strong, rough hand foldedover mine as the husk did over the hollyhock seeds I had been holdingwarm and moist in my palm.
"All of them, and then some, Betty," he answered, blowing away a wisp ofmy hair that he had again roughed up instead of shaking hands ingreeting, despite my reproof. "I'll plow up that southern plot for youjust after daylight to-morrow, and every minute I can take fromgrubbing at the things I have to work to make the eats for all of usI'll put in on the posy-garden for you."
"I'm much obliged to you for the plowing, but I'll be out at about nineo'clock and I'll bring my own spade and hoe and rake and things. I thinkI'll take those two young white lilacs that are crowded over by thefence in the front yard to start the garden. Don't you think lilacswould be a lovely corner for a garden like my grandmother's, Sam?"
"I--I think it would be nice to--plant the hollyhock s
eeds you have inyour hand the first thing, Betty," answered Sam, with the gridironsmolder in his eyes which snapped up into a twinkle as he added, "Couldyou help me set onions for a few hours later on?"
"Oh, I'd adore it!" I answered, enthusiastically. "Of course, I mean tohelp plant all the eat things, too. I may like them best. Let's see whatgrandmother says about onions." And I began to ruffle back the pages ofthe book that Sam held in both his hands for me.
"Good gracious! Betty, couldn't the old lady write!" exclaimed Sam, ahalf-hour later, after we had finished with onions and many otherprofitable vegetables.