HOW OLE WASH GOT RID OF HIS MOTHERS-IN-LAW
By John Trotwood Moore
I was telling ole Wash the other night that I thought the President was a great man and that if he didn’t make any break from now on, as for instance about knocking out states’ rights and undue blowing about the devilish little Japs who are itching to scrap with us, he would rank among the great presidents.
The old man was thoughtful for awhile, looking into the fire.
“Wal, boss, he sho’ is got all the year-marks—a senserble, dermestic wife an’ no signs of a muther-in-law. Now, sah, befo’ eny man kin be great he must fus’ ax his wife an’ arter he gits her consent he mus’ ax his muther-in-law. Now, sah, no man kin be great, don’t keer how much ’bility he’s got, if his wife is in society an’ his muther-in-law is in de house. You can look all down de line, sah, an’ when you finds dat combinashun you’ll find a man whose growin’ gourd of greatness is liable to wilt eny day, like Job’s, at de fus’ good jolt it gits. Wid both of ’em in society an’ both in de’ house, why, Lord, boss, his gourd will nurver even sprout!
“Did I urver tell you ’bout my ’sperience in dat line an’ how nigh I cum to missin’ greatness, all on account of a few muther-in-laws? It wuz a close shave an’ if I hadn’t seed de way de ship wuz headed an’ steered out from dat combernashun, instead of bein’ de gent’man an’ floserpher whose ’pinions you so highly values,” he chuckled modestly, “you’d a had a ole nigger fit only fur de woodpile an’ de blackin’ bresh.
“Boss,” he laughed as he bit off a chew of Brazil Leaf Twist, bred in the hills of Maury, “did you kno’ the ole man am a Only? The only man dat ever lived dat had fo’ muther-in-laws at unct—driv’ a fo’-in-han’ of ’em, so to speak! Oh, I kno’ what you ’bout to say, sah,—but mine wuz legitermates, de actu’l product of de law an’ matremony.”
“Nonsense,” I said, “you couldn’t have been married to four women at once, as sly an old coon as you are. Though I did hear Marse Nick Akin say that he knew of his own knowledge that you once had three wives but gave two of them to the preacher if he would make you an elder in his church, which bargain was duly consummated. Oh, I knew you were driving a very long string of tandems, old man, but four abreast? Tell about it.”
He laughed so loud the pointer jumped up from his bed on the rug and barked.
“Did Marse Nick vi’late de conferdence I composed in his veracity?” he laughed again. “Wal, I jis’ well tell it fur you’ll nurver guess how it wuz.
“Long in de fifties I spliced up wid a likely young widder dat wuz de sod-relic of Brer Simon Harris, a ’piscopal brudder up at Nashville. Befo’ dat she had been de relic of several gent’men of color. Fur a week or so I wuz so busy co’rtin’ her dat I wa’n’t very ’tickler jis’ whut her entitlements an’ habilerments wuz, nur jis’ whut mineral rights an’ easements went wid de property.
“I’ve allers noticed it’s dat a way in de co’rtin’ stage an’ hits a wise dispensashun of ole Marster to trap us all into matremony an’ make us blin’, like snakes in August; an’ eb’ry one of us, when he gits his seckin’ sight arter de entrapment, wakes up to fin’ dat in de deed to de state of matremony dar has been passed wid de free-hold a few hererditerments dat he didn’t cal’late went wid de lan’.
“Sum of us, of co’rse nurver gits dey seckin’ sight at all.
“But I ain’t talkin’ of dem. I’ve nurver writ a fool’s almernac yit!
“But I claims I am de only man dat urver got fo’ muther-in-laws, when I didn’t ’spec’ to git eny!
“Arter a breef but very pinted co’rtship, in which I done de usual close-settin’, low-layin’ an’ tall lyin’, I hitched up my team an’ driv’ up to Nashville an’ married Sally. Arter de circus I driv’ de team ’round to de door fur to carry her home an’ I went in fur to pack up her things. I got ’em all in one big box, fur Brer Simon hadn’t been very felicertus in passin’ round de hat, an’ when I tuck it out to de wag’n dar sot Sally an’ fo’ uther ladies all es cheerful an’ happy as fo’ ole tabby-cats in a hay loft.
“’Dese am my muthers, Wash,’ sez Sally sweetly, ’an’ of co’rse dey am all gwine to lib wid us.’”
“‘Look heah, gal,’ sez I sorter faintly, ‘I ain’t nurver heerd of enybody havin’ mor’n one muther.”
“‘Dese other three am jes’ as dear,’ seys she, p’intin’ to de three ole ladies, ‘dat’s Simon’s muther, dat’s mine, an’ dem two ober dar—’
“Boss, I nearly had a fit! Do you kno’ dat gal had de muthers of ebry one of her fus’ husbands dar an’ claimin’ dey wuz mighty nigh to her?
“Dar wa’n’t nothin’ to do but to git a divorcement an’ as I wa’n’t quite ready fur dat yit, I made de bes’ of it an’ driv’ off; but I knowed if dar wuz ever a day when I needed sum brains now wuz de time. An’ de three sod muthers,—dat wuz de entitlement I gib to de three muthers of Sally’s dead husbands,—dey wuz jes’ plain ole grannies, wid de usual tongue an’ de perviserty fer huntin’ up trouble dat wuz natu’lly predistined fur sumbody else.
“But Sally’s muther she wuz a fine lookin’ ’oman, jes a shade heftier an’ handsumer than Sally so I teched her mighty tenderly an’ gin her to onderstan’ dat I fully intended to fulfill to de letter de scrip’tul injunshuns of filial affecshuns. She wuz a hefty ’oman, boss, but she wuz es bossy es she wuz hansum, es I found out. De day she landed at home, sah, I seed she’d sot in to own de place an’ in two weeks, sah, sides ownin’ Sally an’ de sod-muthers, she owned de mules, de cow, de pigs an’ de farm, me an’ my ’ligious convicshuns an’ perlitical preferment.
“But es I wuz sayin’, boss, she wuz a han’sum ’oman!
“Now I’m allers willin’ to be bossed fur a while by a handsum ’oman, but when it comes to dat batch of ole sod-muthers dat looked like busted bags of dried apples, dat wuz a nurr thing. But I’ve noticed dar is allers a kin’ of communercashun ’mong women folks es to de bossin’ of a man. It jis’ travels by grapevine, or dis here wireless business in de air, to de end dat when one ’oman kin boss a man all of ’em think dey can do it.
“An’ dey think right, only in dis case de thinkin’ hadn’t all ben dun yit. So dey all jes’ put me down as dead easy.
“I let ’em hab free han’ till de honeymoon wuz over. I didn’ think I orter mix eny vinegar wid dat; but by dat time de whole tribe of ’em wuz needin’ sum of de salt dat Lot’s wife got, an’ mebbe sum of de fire an’ brimstone dat wuz de ’casion of her saltin’. Wal, sah, dey sot in fur infairs an’ didn’t do nuthin’ but eat fur two weeks. I had to give ’em three infairs myself an’ then they gin to nose aroun’ an’ git my naburs to have infairs. Fur two weeks mo’ dar wa’n’t nuffin but infairs fur de bride, an’ groom, fur my naburs wuz polite, all wucked up by dese sod-muthers, till dey wuzn’t a chicken or shote left in five miles of my home, an’ if dar had been a hard winter an’ de white folks’ chickens had-roosted high, we would a had a hard time of it.
“Wal, I stood dat, ’caze dar wuz a honeymoon an’ good eatin’ gwine on wid it, but ’long ’bout de thud week when de sod-mammies gin to tell me how I orter roach my hair an’ run my farm I gin to lay my plans fur acshun.
“Dey wuz all ’piscopaliuns, boss, es I wuz sayin’, an’ dey bleeved tarible in Good Friday; an’ ev’ry Friday wuz Good Friday wid dem when it come to eatin’. When I seed my chickens all gwine an’ de pigs an’ sich, I got so disgusted wid dese Good Fridays dat I wanted to be a jay-bird fur a while so I cud git off to hell ebry Friday myse’f! Frum dat dey begin to rub it in to me ’bout baptism an’ so forth an’ dat didn’t tend to make me change in de resolushuns I had fixed up. I went on fixin’ my plans an’ layin’ low, meek as Moses outwardly but inwardly full of wrath.
“By dis time dey gin to ax in all de bredderin of de chu’ch to he’p ’em eat an’ settin’ up by moonlight wid ’em a holdin’ han’s an’ prayin’. Now, boss, de hefty one nurver mixed up in dese small things—she wuz layin’ fur bigger game. She seed de sod-muthers wuz managin’ it all right an’ as she knowed she owned dem an’ Sally an’ dey all owned me, why she let it res’ at dat.
“Sides dat, as I sed, she wuz a han’sum ’oman!
“I let it run on till de time whut dey call Ash We’nesday come, when dey all had a feast an’ special prayers fur de souls of all who had died frum de beginnin’ of de worl’ till den,—or sumpin’ nurr like it. I had already spent all my money an’ dey had ordered lumber fur a new house, ’sides orgernizin’ a society to build de nigger preacher in town a rookery. Dey called it a pay supper—an’ I did all de payin’! It wuz all to cum off de night of Ash We’nesday.
“Now dat Ash biziness sot me to thinkin’. Here wuz my home turned into a karnival of noise an’ carousin’ an’ drinkin’ an’ hoodoo’in’, an’ me payin’ fur it.
“‘Wal,’ sez I to myse’f, ‘I’ll jes’ turn dis thing into a Ash We’nesday sho’ nuff, so I goes out an’ cuts down a ash tree an’ makes me a good, lithe stick dat would knock a bull down, an’ den bounce back into yo’ han’s. Dat wuz fur de bredderin. Den I broke up a good ash-bar’l an’ made de paddles handy fur de sisterin, an’ I sot ’em in de corner behin’ de cup’ard.
“De night cum, but by dat time dey didn’t keer enuff fur me to ax me into de feast. I wuz jes’ a common ole Baptis’ nigger. I waited till dey wuz all dar, de sod-muthers in white apruns, candles burnin’ an’ dude niggers an’ niggeresses frum town and ev’ry whar, all s’posin’ to be payin’ fur a thing dat finally cum outen my pocket. I walked in an’ sot down by de fire, but befo’ I got sot good, one of dem dude niggers put a insultment on me.
“Dat suit me all right. I didn’t want to start de fight in my own house—dat wa’n’t good manners—but soon es dat nigger put de insultment on me, I wuz reddy.
“‘Frien’s, sez I, ‘I am a plain ole Baptis’ nigger, but es I onderstan’ it, dis am Ash We’nesday.’
“‘You bet it am, ole Moses,’ sez one of de dudes, ‘an’ it ain’t a good place fur Baptists to eat—dey am liabul to hab de collect!’
“I didn’t see de p’int, but dey did, an’ all laf’d.
“‘Yes,’ sez I, ‘he mout, but he is mor’n apt to hab stumic enuff left to read de burial sarvices over a few dudes,’ an’ I lit in. I’d locked de do’ but fergot de winder; but I hearn tell arterwards dat only two niggers got out of dar wid a soun’ head, an’ dey didn’t stop runnin’ till Easter mo’nin’!
“I lit on de sod-muthers early in de game wid de staves of de ash bar’l till dey wuz meet fur repentunce, an’ de nex’ mo’nin’ I sent ’em back to town whar I foun’ dey all had husban’s livin’ dat dey had quit fur a easier job. Wal, dey had to take ’em back.
“Now, boss, I wuz keerful not to hurt Sally an’ her mammy—dey wuz both han’sum women, es I wuz sayin’.
“I wuz now rid of de sod-muthers, but how to git rid of Sally’s mammy wuz de nex p’int. I’d figured dat out too, case es I said, she wuz a han’sum ’oman. De tacticks I used, boss, is whut’ll s’prize you.
“Bout de thud night when I had her alone for a while on de little porch an’ we wuz waitin’ fur Sally to git supper, fur she had gone to wuck in earnest arter she seed how handy I wuz wid de ash bar’l, sez I:
“‘A good meny men hab muther-in-laws dat am homely. I’m mighty proud of mine,’ sez I, ‘she is so han’sum.’
“‘Why, Washin’tun!’ she sez, ‘does you really think so?’
“I seed it tickled her, an’ arter a while I slipped over closer an’ sed:
“‘An’ I nurver seed a muther-in-law wid sech b’utiful eyes as you is got,’ an’ I took her han’.
“Dat wuz mor’n she cu’d stan’ on a col’ collar an’ you orter seed her light out—light out an’ he’p git supper, too!
“I let it res’ at dat. I’ve noticed dat too many fo’ks plants dey truck too fas’ in de spring. An’ at de same time I’ve nurver let a late frost keep me frum believin’ it’ll be summer by an’ by.
“De nex’ night I sot out on de po’ch ag’in arter a hard day’s wuck an’ I tuck my stan’ whar I wuz de night befo’ fur I knowed de ole doe allers crosses de creek at de same place. Sho ’nuff, by an’ by heah she cum tipperty-tip—tipperty-tip.
“An’ all she wanted wuz to ax me if I thought de weather wuz gwine ter change! I sot up close ag’in an’ sed:
“‘Sum times a man makes a great mistake by marryin’ in too big a hurry.’
“‘How’s dat?’ she sed, tickled to death an’ nestlin’ up to me.
“‘Why,’ sez I, ‘he marries de gal an’ den he fin’s out dat whut ’ud suit him bes’ wuz de muther-in-law—shoots at de doe an’ kills de fawn,’ sez I, slippin’ my arm aroun’ her wais’.
“Up she jumps ag’in an’ goes up mad lak an’ big es a balloon.
“‘Ain’t you ’shamed of yo’se’f?’ sez she. ‘I’m gwine right in an’ tell Sally.’
“I knowed she wouldn’t an’ I set back an’ chuckled. It wuz all wuckin’ to suit me an’ I seed dar would soon be a complete separashun of de chu’ch an’ de state.
“Now, boss, you’ll wonder des why I’d play es hefty an’ han’sum a ’oman es she is sich a trick, but I ’cided dat one wife in de house am enuff in dat place.
“De thud night I had it fixed. I knowed she’d gone off mad, but I knowed a ’oman, arter one huggin’, is like a dog burryin’ a bone—he’ll leave it fur awhile, but he’s sho to cum back to it ag’in! I jes’ waited an’ let her cum back, fixin’ my plans. I tole Sally to set down in one corner of de po’ch in de dark an’ keep quiet—dat I had a s’prize fer her to sho’ how her virtuous husban’ wuz bein’ inticed by de Philistine.
“Dat wuz enuff—she sot.
“I waited till dark fore I cum an’ den I stomped aroun’, washed my face an’ han’s, an’ lit my pipe. An’ heah she cum tipperty-tip an’ all she wanted to kno’ wuz, if de moon had riz!
“Boss, I let her do de talkin’, fur she wuz ripe fur it, an’ ’bout de time she tole me dat she lubbed me frum de fus’ an’ dat I orter married her stead of Sally, I heerd a scufflin’ in de co’ner,—Sally riz up, dar wuz much excitement an’ scatterment of hair an’ when it wuz over dar wuz nobody on dat place but me an’ Sally, an’ I owned her.”