For many years there had scarcely been a ripple on this placid life of June’s, save when a “puppy-shark” would occasionally make away with his bait, sending the whiting line whizzing through his fingers and almost upsetting the little craft with his impetuous rush, or when, two or three times a year, the itinerant preacher would visit his cabin to swap ecclesiastical platitudes for fresh fish.
On a bright day in early summer, old June sat at his doorstep basking in the sun and watching the glistening waters as they hurried by. Occasionally, a kingfisher would leave his station on a dead limb and, zig-zagging in his flight, would swoop down on some small fish that showed on the surface, and, having swallowed his prey, would leisurely return to his perch with a harsh note of triumph. The “preechuh on de sukkus” had just arrived to pay his periodical visit, and, scattering a group of half-naked children who were playing around the door, June brought out another three-legged stool and extended the hospitalities of the establishment.
“Reb’ren’,” said he, “I berry glad you come teday.”
“Why, bredduh, ’smattuh mekso?”
“Well, suh,” said June, whose philosophical patience and faith might put to the blush many who quarrel with their lot, “I yent min’ ’bout me myself, suh, ’cause I tengk Gawd fuh life en’ de bre’t’ w’at Him lef’ een dis body. My lady, w’ich dead een las’ Augus’, had de consumpshus en’ de remonia alltwo, en’ him en’ me alltwo nyuse to smoke de same pipe befo’ him dead, en’ I berry ’f’aid dat I gwine likeso fuh ketch de consumpshus en’ de remonia frum dat same berry pipe, en’, den, I got mis’ry een de back, en’ I sen’ dat leetle gal ’Riah—dat is my gran’—to de cross road sto’ fuh git fibe cent’ wut’ ub tup’mtime, but de buckruh tek de fibe cent frum de gal en’ t’row water een de tup’mtime, en’ w’en I rub de back wid de tup’mtime de tup’mtime couldn’ specify, en’ de mis’ry keep on jes’ de same, en’ I git so po’ly now dat I kin sca’cely git een de crik fuh ketch swimp en’ t’ing, en’ bittle git berry sca’ceful dese days, suh; but tengk Gawd fuh life, suh, tengk Gawd fuh life, en’ I berry glad you come, ’cause I want’uh ax yo’ ’pinion ’bout my gran’, Sooky. You know’um, suh, him is uh ’leben yeahs ole gal chile, en’ ’e git sick een de two week een las’ Jinnywerry done gone mek one yeah, en’ Doctuh Baa’nwell t’row one dollar en’ sebenty-fi’ cent’ wut’ uh med’sin een de gal, but somehow I don’t t’ink de Doctuh exceed so well wid de gal, ’cause, een de fus’ week een dis same Jinnywerry—befo’ de yeah well out—de gal tek wid mo’ mis’ry een ’e lef’ han’ foot, en’ w’en I sen’um back to de Doctuh ’e want’uh chaa’ge anodduh dolluh en’ sebenty-fi’ cent’ fuh t’row mo’ physic’ een de gal, en’ dat mek me bex, ’cause eb’rybody know ’tis too soon fuh t’row’way anodduh dolluh en’ sebenty-fi’ cent’, en’ likeso eb’rybody know dat Doctuh Baa’nwell couldn’ be exceed so well wid de gal, en’ ’e med’sin couldn’ specify, elseso ’e wouldn’ haffuh cyo’ one en’ de same gal two time een one en’ de same yeah!”
THE LADY COULDN’T “SPECIFY”
The Rev. Nepchun Kinlaw, the “locus pastuh” of a Colleton County flock, sat in the sunshine at the door of his cabin, drawing from the sights and sounds around him inspiration for his next Sunday’s sermon.
Although he could not read, an open Bible was on his knee, and his head was bowed reverently over the well-thumbed pages. His only knowledge of their contents was acquired from the circuit preacher whose quarterly sermons furnished the “class-leaders” and local preachers with scriptural data wherewith to conduct the campaign against Satan until his next round. These Bible truths “Pa Kinlaw”—as the female members of his charge delighted to call him—instilled into his flock by homely illustrations. Out in the yard before him, a little ridge of earth, which gradually increased in length, indicated the presence of a ground-mole that was burrowing through the hard ground. “Dat gru’mole hab fait’,” said he. “’E yent gots no eye een ’e head, en’ ’e cyan’ see de wurrum een de eart’, but ’e hab fait’, en’ de Lawd lead’um ’long to weh de wurrum does lib, en’ de gru’mole ketch de wurrum en’ eat’um. Same fashi’n, man en’ ’ooman gots to hab fait’ een de Lawd, elsehow dem ent able fuh specify w’en Gabrull blow ’e hawn en’ de great day come. Ef you ent got fait’, please Gawd, oonuh nebbuh ketch de wurrum ub Salwashun!”
His reflections were rudely interrupted by the advent of Jim Green, the colored constable of a neighboring trial justice, who, mounted on a razor-backed rat of a Texas pony, rode up to the door and, in the name of the State of South Carolina, demanded from the “Reb’ren’” a dollar and a quarter, the balance due on a two-dollar marriage ceremony performed in October last by the aforesaid trial justice, “who did then and there, at the time and place aforesaid, unite one Nepchun Kinlaw to one Minda Manigo.”
Not a red flag flaunted before a bull—nor a rival’s becoming Easter bonnet before a society woman—could have been provocative of more wrath than was the constable’s demand upon “Pa Kinlaw.” Rising from his seat, with the natural color of his face deepened by anger until it was as dark as the hinges of Hades, he said: “Green, you kin go back to de Trial Jestuss en’ tell’um dat de lady, w’at him renite me to een de two Chuesday een las’ Octobuh, cyan’ specify. Tell’um dat de only reason w’ymekso I hab dis lady is bekasew’y my fus’ wife dead een las’ June. Dat ’ooman w’at dead wuz de fait’fules’ ’ooman I ebbuh come ’cross een dis wull’. I g’em praise fuh dat! De only fau’t I had wid’um, is ’cause ’e gone en’ dead een June! Ef de ’ooman had’uh dead een de fall w’en de crop done lay by, I wouldn’ uh min’ summuch, but ’e gone en’ leddown en’ dead een June, please Gawd, een June munt’, w’en de grass duh grow, en’ w’en de time haa’d, en bittle berry sca’ceful, en’ ’e lef’ seb’n chillun een de house, en’ lef’ de cawn een de fiel’ befo’ ’e gitt’ru hoe’um two time, en’ de jaybu’d flew een de fiel’ en’ nyam de cawn, en’ de redbu’d flew een de fiel’ en’ nyam de cawn, en de crow en’ de rokkoon en de ’possum en’ all de odduh’res’ waa’ment nyam de cawn, ’cause I yent gots nobody fuh min’um out’n de fiel’, en’ stillyet dat ’ooman gone en’ dead een June! Now, w’en I see all dese chillun, wid ’e mout’ open same lukkuh chuckwilluh’ mout’, en’ I yent gots no bittle fuh pit een ’um, I mek up my min’ dat I gots to git anodduh lady, en’ sistuh Minda en’ him fus’ husbun’ paa’t, en’ I quizzit de fus’ husbun’ ’bout’um en’ ’e gib de lady uh berry good cyarrictuh, so I tek’um to de trial jestuss en’ marri’d’um, but w’en I marri’d’um I t’aw’t ’e could specify, so I pay de jestuss sebenty-fi’ cent’, en’ owe’um dolluh en’ uh quawtuh on de ’ooman, en’ I tek de ’ooman home en’ t’row’um een de fiel’ fuh done lay by de crap en’ plant peas een de cawn, but, please Gawd, soon ez I lef’ de ’ooman ’e leddown flat ’puntop ’e back en’ gone ’sleep een de sunhot, en’ ’e ’low de crow en’ t’ing fuh spile eb’ry Gawd’ crop een de fiel’ eenjurin’ de week day, en’, w’en Sunday come, de lady put one high brustle ’puntop ’e back en’ gone chu’ch same lukkuh him duh buckruh! En’ w’en I fin’ all dese gwinin’ en’ gwinin’ bout de ’ooman, I kinduh git disgus’ wid, de ’ooman, en’ I yent feel like pay out no mo’ money fuh de ’ooman w’en ’e cyan’ specify. W’en I ’gree fuh pay de jestuss two dolluh’ fuh marri’d dis lady, I t’aw’t ’e could specify, en’ I didn’ min’ ’bout payin’ two dolluh’ fuh uh smaa’t ’ooman, but sence I tek de ’ooman home en’ try’um, I fin’ dat de ’ooman cyan’ specify, en’ ’e yent wut’ mo’ den de sebenty-fi’ cent’ w’at I done pay on’um; en’, ef de jestuss ent sattify wid dat—befo’ I pay de odduh’res’ ub de money—befo’ I pay’um de dolluh en’ a quawtuh w’at I still jue on de ’ooman—him kin tek de lady back!”