In about half an hour a neighbor passed and offered to help me, so I asked him if when he passed Cherokee he would drive in, and tell Bonaparte to bring Nana in the old buckboard and to tell Chloe to send by him the horse physic from behind the dogs on the mantelpiece in the dining-room. He seemed very glad to do it and I felt relieved, knowing I would not have to spend the night on the road. I always keep a bottle of aconite behind a very beautiful pair of bronze hounds by Isidore Bonheur and Chloe knows just where to find it, for I have kept it there for years.
Romola continued in great distress. I had a bottle of almond oil with extract of violet in my valise which I fortunately thought of. I got it out and told Gibbie to rub her, but finding that he didn't seem to know how to rub, I just took it myself and rubbed her well. I had to be quick in getting out of the way when she flopped over or I would have got mashed; but I stood behind her and, leaning over, put my whole weight on my hands.
As the sun was dropping below the horizon in the west she got up and shook herself. I led her about a little and felt sure the attack was over, so I told Gibbie to harness and put her in. He had been kept busy by Ruth, who as feeding time approached was eager to break away and get to her stable. We moved off slowly, and in half a mile we met Bonaparte with Nana and the other buckboard and he took the trunk. I gave Romola a dose of aconite and she plucked up a little spirit; but she did not pull, she simply walked beside Ruth, who took the whole load.
It was after dark when we reached the house. I gave her three quarts of hot water with soda in it and another spoonful of aconite. I was truly thankful when I finally dragged my weary limbs up the front steps and found a bright fire, nice supper, Chloe, Don, and home.
Sunday, November 11.
My blessed mother's birthday. I am too stiff and ill to attempt to go down with flowers to her resting-place as I usually do; a great disappointment. Bonaparte asked for a private interview, so I went to one end of the piazza, though there was no one within hearing. He told me after a long and mysterious preamble that he was engaged to be married.
I was distressed when I heard he had selected a comparatively young woman from Gregory. When I expressed my anxiety, saying a woman from the country would suit him better, he said that when I saw Jane I would have no objection to make, as she bore a fine character with white as well as black. Of course I can do nothing now but give him my good wishes.
Two or three months ago when I saw his restless, miserable frame of mind, I knew he was thinking of replacing his good, faithful wife and I tried to help him. After a careful survey of the matrimonial field, I concluded that good little Jinny would be the best person for him. She is an industrious, smart woman, who had been a faithful wife and mother and is now a widow. One day I said to him that whenever the time came that he felt he needed a companion I thought Jinny Robinson would make him an excellent helpmate. To my surprise he answered quickly, "Jinny too old for me, Miss Pashuns."
She is twenty years younger than he is. My mother was always appealed to for advice and suggestion by those left desolate, and I never knew an instance when her selection was rejected or the match turned out badly, so I was quite unprepared for this rebuff.
Jinny lives on her own farm and all her children are married, so that she would have suited him well.