And the ruffle on her cap did not deny it.
“Nate air twenty-one,” she reiterated. “An’ I s’pose he ’lows ez I hev no call nowadays ter be his mother.”
“Hain’t ye got no guess whar he be gone?” asked Birt, dismayed by this strange new complication.
“Waal, I hev been studyin’ it out ez Nate mought hev rid ter Parch Corn, whar his great-uncle, Joshua Peters, lives - him that merried my aunt, Melissy Baker, ez war a widder then, though born a Scruggs. An’ then, ag’in, Nate
mought
hev tuk it inter his head ter go ter the Cross-roads, a-courtin’ a gal thar ez he hev been talkin’ about powerful, lately. But they tells me,” Mrs. Griggs expostulated, as it were, “that them gals at the Cross-roads is in no way desirable, - specially this hyar Elviry Mills, ez mighty nigh all the boys on the mounting hev los’ thar wits about, - what little wits ez they ever hed ter lose, I mean ter say. But Nate thinks he hev got a right ter a ch’ice, bein’ ez he air turned twenty-one.”
“Did he say when he ’lowed ter come back?” Birt asked.
“‘Bout two or three weeks Nate laid off ter be away; but whar he hev gone, an’ what’s his yerrand, he let no human know,” returned Mrs. Griggs. “I hev been powerful aggervated ’bout this caper o’ Nate’s. I ain’t afeard he’ll git hisself hurt no ways whilst he be gone, for Nate is mighty apt ter take keer o’ Nate.” She nodded her head convincingly, and the great ruffle on her cap shook in corroboration. “But I hain’t never hed the right medjure o’ respec’ out’n Nate, an’ his dad hain’t, nuther.”
Birt listened vaguely to this account of his friend’s filial shortcomings, his absent eyes fixed upon the wide landscape, and his mind busy with the anxious problems of Nate’s broken promises.
And the big red ball of the setting sun seemed at last to roll off the plane of the horizon, and it disappeared amidst the fiery emblazonment of clouds with which it had enriched the west. But all the world was not so splendid; midway below the dark purple summits a dun, opaque vapor asserted itself in dreary, aerial suspension. Beneath it he could see a file of cows, homeward bound, along the road that encircled the mountain’s base. He heard them low, and this reminded him that night was near, for all that the zenith was azure, and for all that the west was aglow. And he remembered he had a good many odd jobs to do before dark. And so he turned his face homeward.