This afternoon, after the arduous labors of the day, and an hour of play, Philip was sitting on the back cottage-steps eating a huge chunk of "sugar-tree-sugar" he had just bought in the village, the other boys leaving their marbles and gathering about him like flies as he drew forth the great, sticky lump, though with but faint hope in their eyes. Sure enough, he made no motion to break it up or pass it around (Taulbee, with whom he usually shares, is at home for the week-end). So Philip sat and licked and crunched in solitary state. Just at this juncture, four of the wash-girls, including Dilsey, suddenly appeared round the corner of the house, on some unexpected errand. Dilsey stopped in her tracks, and took in the situation. Then walking on, she remarked casually to the peach-tree, "I'd sooner die as to marry a greedy man!"
Flushed and angry, Philip sprang to his feet. "You needn't talk, missy,—I give you more'n I kep',—more'n you could eat!"
"Yes, and I give very near all of mine to the girls; but you haint never give them boys nary grain of your'n, that I can see!"
Philip wavered a bare instant, then, "'Cause I haint had time yet," he said, "I was just a-fixing to break it up with this-here rock, and give 'em some."
"Well, I would, if I was you," murmured Dilsey, with decision, as she passed on.
As Philip smashed angrily away with the rock, I marvelled at the vast power in women's hands, and wished there were more Dilseys with the courage to use it.
Sunday.
Flour all gone,—no more biscuit from now on until the roads open—and no sugar for the little coffee that remains.
Monday Evening.
To-day the rumor is flying that the remaining Cheevers set the fence up again on the Marrs land Friday and Saturday, taking their time, in known security from interruption. Nucky disappeared at noon,—of course he has gone home.