Jarius. Hold on. Don’t git into a sweat. I want to tell yer about that air boy. Yer see, about a year ago I came across a poor chap, who’d run down hill awful fast; he’d got into temptation, and tripped. A good deal like your boy, Mrs. Nutter.
Hannah. My Will? He was a good boy. He’s a man to-day.
Jarius. Jes’ so. Wal, this here chap wanted work. He was as penitent as could be; so I set him to work among agricultural implements, as a sort of salesman, paid him fair wages, and a smarter chap you never see. I noticed he never spent much, and so one day I asked him what he did with his savings. He didn’t like to tell at first; but arter a while he told me that his daddy had a kind of saving-up place—a sugar-bowl, or a coffee-pot, or a jug, somewhere, and he used to walk off every Saturday night ten miles, creep into the house, and put it away in the old ju—savings bank. Wal, I had a reapin’ machine that I had a patent onto, that I thought a heap on; but, somehow, it wouldn’t work. When they got the horses in, and a boy on top of it, and started the thing off, for a little while ’twould go first rate; when, all at once, there’d be a h’ist and spill, and machine, and horse, and boy would all be mixed up in a heap. It was a bust. Wal, that air boy would look, and look, and look at that machine, and one day he says to me, “I’ve found what’s the matter.” And I’ll be hanged if he hadn’t. I was so tickled that I jest drew my check for a thousand dollars, and made him a present of it; and I’ll be bound that air check is in the old gentleman’s little brown jug.
Mary. (Outside.) O, father! mother! (Runs in, L., with jug, followed by Sally.) The jug! the jug! It’s heaped full of bank notes. (Emptying it upon table.)
Sally. Heaps and heaps!
John. Bank notes, and—What’s this? (Takes up check.) A check! “Pay to William Nutter, or order, one thousand dollars.” Signed, “Jarius Jordan.” Jordan, is this your work?
Jarius. Look at the back.
John. (Reads.) “William Nutter.” My son!
Hannah. Our Will! My boy! O, Jarius Jordan! what does this mean?
Jarius. It means glory! Halleluyah! Fourth of July! Kingdom come! It’s a grand emancipation jubilee. The boy I’ve been telling you about is the same boy that villain, Henry Douglas, led into temptation, whom he charged with forgery, whom I took in hand, set straight, and who to-day is a man indeed—your son Will, Mrs. Nutter.