A Knight of the Cumberland [8]
sour-looking, disgruntled--a distinctly hostile crowd. The Blight and my little sister drew great and curious attention as they sat on a bowlder above the spring while I went with the Hon. Samuel Budd under the guidance of Uncle Tommie Hendricks, who introduced him right and left. The Hon. Samuel was cheery, but he was plainly nervous. There were two lanky youths whose names, oddly enough, were Budd. As they gave him their huge paws in lifeless fashion, the Hon. Samuel slapped one on the shoulder, with the true democracy of the politician, and said jocosely:
``Well, we Budds may not be what you call great people, but, thank God, none of us have ever been in the penitentiary,'' and he laughed loudly, thinking that he had scored a great and jolly point. The two young men looked exceedingly grave and Uncle Tommie panic-stricken. He plucked the Hon. Sam by the sleeve and led him aside:
``I reckon you made a leetle mistake thar. Them two fellers' daddy died in the penitentiary last spring.'' The Hon. Sam whistled mournfully, but he looked game enough when his opponent rose to speak --Uncle Josh Barton, who had short, thick, upright hair, little sharp eyes, and a rasping voice. Uncle Josh wasted no time:
``Feller-citizens,'' he shouted, ``this man is a lawyer--he's a corporation lawyer''; the fearful name--pronounced ``lie-yer''--rang through the crowd like a trumpet, and like lightning the Hon. Sam was on his feet.
``The man who says that is a liar,'' he said calmly, `` and I demand your authority for the statement. If you won't give it--I shall hold you personally responsible, sir.''
It was a strike home, and under the flashing eyes that stared unwaveringly, through the big goggles, Uncle Josh halted and stammered and admitted that he might have been misinformed.
``Then I advise you to be more careful,'' cautioned the Hon. Samuel sharply.
``Feller-citizens,'' said Uncle Josh, ``if he ain't a corporation lawyer--who is this man? Where did he come from? I have been born and raised among you. You all know me--do you know him? Whut's he a-doin' now? He's a fine-haired furriner, an' he's come down hyeh from the settlemints to tell ye that you hain't got no man in yo' own deestrict that's fittin' to represent ye in the legislatur'. Look at him-- look at him! He's got FOUR eyes! Look at his hair--hit's PARTED IN THE MIDDLE!'' There was a storm of laughter--Uncle Josh had made good--and if the Hon. Samuel could straightway have turned bald-headed and sightless, he would have been a happy man. He looked sick with hopelessness, but Uncle Tommie Hendricks, his mentor, was vigorously whispering something in his ear, and gradually his face cleared. Indeed, the Hon. Samuel was smilingly confident when he rose.
Like his rival, he stood in the open road, and the sun beat down on his parted yellow hair, so that the eyes of all could see, and the laughter was still running round.
``Who is your Uncle Josh?'' he asked with threatening mildness. ``I know I was not born here, but, my friends, I couldn't help that. And just as soon as I could get away from where I was born, I came here and,'' he paused with lips parted and long finger outstretched, `` and--I--came --because--I WANTED--to come--and NOT because I HAD TO.''
Now it seems that Uncle Josh, too, was not a native and that he had left home early in life for his State's good and for his own. Uncle Tommie had whispered this, and the Hon. Samuel raised himself high on both toes while the expectant crowd, on the verge of a roar, waited--as did Uncle Joshua, with a sickly smile.
``Why did your Uncle Josh come among you? Because he was hoop-poled away from home.'' Then came the roar-- and the Hon. Samuel had to quell it with uplifted hand.
``And did your Uncle Joshua marry a mountain wife? No I He didn't think any of your mountain women were good enough for him, so he slips down into the settlemints and STEALS one. And now, fellow-citizens, that is just what I'm here for --I'm looking for a nice mountain girl, and I'm going to have her.''
``Well, we Budds may not be what you call great people, but, thank God, none of us have ever been in the penitentiary,'' and he laughed loudly, thinking that he had scored a great and jolly point. The two young men looked exceedingly grave and Uncle Tommie panic-stricken. He plucked the Hon. Sam by the sleeve and led him aside:
``I reckon you made a leetle mistake thar. Them two fellers' daddy died in the penitentiary last spring.'' The Hon. Sam whistled mournfully, but he looked game enough when his opponent rose to speak --Uncle Josh Barton, who had short, thick, upright hair, little sharp eyes, and a rasping voice. Uncle Josh wasted no time:
``Feller-citizens,'' he shouted, ``this man is a lawyer--he's a corporation lawyer''; the fearful name--pronounced ``lie-yer''--rang through the crowd like a trumpet, and like lightning the Hon. Sam was on his feet.
``The man who says that is a liar,'' he said calmly, `` and I demand your authority for the statement. If you won't give it--I shall hold you personally responsible, sir.''
It was a strike home, and under the flashing eyes that stared unwaveringly, through the big goggles, Uncle Josh halted and stammered and admitted that he might have been misinformed.
``Then I advise you to be more careful,'' cautioned the Hon. Samuel sharply.
``Feller-citizens,'' said Uncle Josh, ``if he ain't a corporation lawyer--who is this man? Where did he come from? I have been born and raised among you. You all know me--do you know him? Whut's he a-doin' now? He's a fine-haired furriner, an' he's come down hyeh from the settlemints to tell ye that you hain't got no man in yo' own deestrict that's fittin' to represent ye in the legislatur'. Look at him-- look at him! He's got FOUR eyes! Look at his hair--hit's PARTED IN THE MIDDLE!'' There was a storm of laughter--Uncle Josh had made good--and if the Hon. Samuel could straightway have turned bald-headed and sightless, he would have been a happy man. He looked sick with hopelessness, but Uncle Tommie Hendricks, his mentor, was vigorously whispering something in his ear, and gradually his face cleared. Indeed, the Hon. Samuel was smilingly confident when he rose.
Like his rival, he stood in the open road, and the sun beat down on his parted yellow hair, so that the eyes of all could see, and the laughter was still running round.
``Who is your Uncle Josh?'' he asked with threatening mildness. ``I know I was not born here, but, my friends, I couldn't help that. And just as soon as I could get away from where I was born, I came here and,'' he paused with lips parted and long finger outstretched, `` and--I--came --because--I WANTED--to come--and NOT because I HAD TO.''
Now it seems that Uncle Josh, too, was not a native and that he had left home early in life for his State's good and for his own. Uncle Tommie had whispered this, and the Hon. Samuel raised himself high on both toes while the expectant crowd, on the verge of a roar, waited--as did Uncle Joshua, with a sickly smile.
``Why did your Uncle Josh come among you? Because he was hoop-poled away from home.'' Then came the roar-- and the Hon. Samuel had to quell it with uplifted hand.
``And did your Uncle Joshua marry a mountain wife? No I He didn't think any of your mountain women were good enough for him, so he slips down into the settlemints and STEALS one. And now, fellow-citizens, that is just what I'm here for --I'm looking for a nice mountain girl, and I'm going to have her.''