A Woman Rice Planter

by Elizabeth W. Allston Pringle

Jack ran ahead and Jim followed with Dan, I walking by him patting and shaming him by turns, and assuring him that he had lost his potato for that day. The wagon was halfway up the steep ascent in the avenue, the only little rise for miles in this flat country. It is hard to believe that those two men had put a genuine load of wood on that wagon, but they had, live oak, which is heavy and strong as iron.

To make things worse, the horses were all loose in the park, and Dan whinnied after them and they answered. While Jim was putting Dan in I called Mollie and had her halter put on and kept her near Dandy. He stood quietly until Jim took up the reins and clucked to him, then he reared and plunged and bucked, but I made Jack push behind, so that gradually the top of the hill was reached, and then I led Mollie ahead in the direction of the stable yard as though I had forgotten all about Dandy, but told Jim to use the whip freely if necessary, for that wagon had to be brought into the yard by him or he would be ruined. Jack must push behind with all his might so that the pony should not be strained, but come he must.

Jim and Jack both pleaded to leave the wagon till afternoon and then put him in, but I said: "You went against my orders in putting the load on, but having started it you have got to carry it through." Dan proceeded to do all that a kitten would do under similar circumstances—he doubled himself up, he threw himself down, he stood on his hind legs and pawed the air, but finally he leaped forward and took wagon, Jack, Jim, and all up the avenue and into the stable yard at a full run. Mollie and I just cleared the road in time, but nothing was broken, and Dan was in the sweetest humor and no harm was done, for I drove him in double harness the next day and he was quieter than usual; but I have not allowed him put in single harness again, for I want him to forget this episode entirely first.

To return to my trip to Gregory—I started at 12:30, Dan and Ruth in fine spirits and quite playful. When we reached the ferry the man in charge begged me to take the horses out and let him roll the buckboard in and have the horses led in, but I was not willing for that. I have to cross the ferry whenever I drive to the railroad, and my horses must learn to go in quietly, for I often cross without a servant. I had Jim walk ahead and stand in the flat at the point where the horses should stop and then I drove in. The water showed between the flat and the shore, a moving streak of light, which Dan examined carefully, and then snorted. As I touched him lightly with the whip he made a flying leap into the flat and stood perfectly still for a moment, nostrils distended, ears erect like a bronze horse. Before he had time to realize the situation and that we were moving, I slipped out and went to him with an apple and a few sweet potatoes, which he loves. As he smelled them in my hand he relaxed his tense aspect and in a few seconds he was eating as contentedly as though he had been accustomed to a flat daily.

On our return trip he went quietly into the flat and turned his head at once to see if I was coming with a potato, and I do not think he will ever give any trouble at the ferry in future. It was wonderful to see how Ruth did all she could to assist in getting him in quietly. I think she remembered her own first trip, how frightened she was and how I calmed her in the same way with sweet potatoes.

I got through all my business and got back to Cherokee at 5:30, which was, I think, doing well for Dandy's first long drive, thirty miles and the ferry, and he was just as gay in the last mile as he was in the first.

December 19.

Punch came to-day to ask me how much he still owed me. It was hard to tell, for two years ago I sold him a fine plough horse for $50. He had just moved on to my place; wanted to rent land and plant corn and cotton. I heard he was a fine ploughman and his wife a good hoe hand, and I was quite cheerful when he said instead of hiring an animal if I would give him a chance to pay for it out of his crop he would like to buy this horse from me. I had more horses than I needed and readily consented to omit any cash payment and wait until the end of the year.

At first the new broom swept very clean. Punch worked hard and his wife was very stirring and I was delighted; but as the spring ripened into summer and the days grew long and the suns hot, and I moved to the pineland, Punch and Judy began to rest in the shade of the big trees in the pasture, and the weeds grew apace in the crop, so that when the autumn came the results were pitifully small, and I did not exact the payment of the debt, but told Punch, as he was an expert at shingle making, he could cut shingles in my swamp, where there was plenty of cypress, and pay his debt in that way. This proposal seemed to delight him, and he promised to go to work at once. But at the end of two years he had only paid $27 on his horse, and no rent at all for the land he had planted, and he ceased to feed his horse during the winter, so that it died.