Vacation is just a little over a month distant now, and Keats and Hen are already making great plans as to the work they will perform for Nervesty during the summer, and all the others who have homes are looking forward eagerly. A few,—all my motherless ones, I hope—will remain here with me to attend to the gardening during the summer. I had of course planned for Nucky to stay with me; but pain takes the place of the pleasure I had anticipated.
First Sunday in April.
To-day Philip was a living monument to the transforming power of love. Very clean, very much combed and brushed and collared and tied, with a large handkerchief, soaked in my cologne, held prominently in one hand, and an expression as decorous and pious as any ever achieved by Geordie Yonts, he sat in church the very picture of elegance, the real direction of his thoughts being indicated by an occasional ardent glance across the aisle, where Dilsey, fairer, more saint-like than ever, kept serious eyes on the preacher. As I looked, I asked myself, Can this be the boy who a few short months ago declined to perform the most rudimentary rites of the toilet, gloried in tatters, declared that "when a man steps in the door, looks flies up the chimley", denominated "polite" a "lick-spittle", asserted that he would rather take off his hat to a cow than a woman, and pronounced the story of his chivalric namesake a "slander"?
This afternoon, however, came the grand climax. After the dish-washing, the cottage boys and ten wash-girls came quietly over to the cottage yard and seated themselves on back steps and walk. As Hen ran through to join them I inquired, "What's going on?"
"Philip he's aiming to give a treat, and done axed all us boys and wash-girls to it," he replied in an astonished voice, hurrying on. I, too, remembering the consistent selfishness following upon the declaration that "generous never put no bread in my belly", was astonished. A few moments later I stepped to the open window and looked out upon a surprising scene. Philip, as suave, knightly and beautiful as his famous namesake could ever have been in the days when he sighed for Stella and all other women for him, was passing around a large "poke" of crackers, and another of brown sugar, and saying with graceful flourishes and insistent politeness,
"Eat all you can, now, everybody,—I got more still when you git through this. There, Jason, wait till the girls is helped,—ladies first, son,—haint you got no manners? Take some, Nancy, eat a-plenty, Rosabel, don't hold back, Narcissa, here's a good lump, Dilsey. Now, boys, pitch in,—you little fellows, Iry, Hen, Jason, take your pick first,—the big boys waits till after you,—I don't aim to see you run over. Don't be afeared, take all you need! Now Taulbee, Killis, Hose, Keats, everybody,—dive in! Just eat all you can hold, and fill up your bel—stummicks. I love to see folks eat and enjoy theirselves. No thank you, I wouldn't choose none myself,—'druther see the rest eat! I spent thirty cents on them crackers, and thirty-five on that 'ere sugar,—dag gone, I reckon a man't works hard for his money's got the right to spend it to suit him! Some folks haint fitten to live,—wants to eat up all they git theirselves; but I like to pass around mine, I do,—it makes me happy. What's the use of livin' if you can't make folks see a good time? Gee-oh, I aim to make me a big grain of money this summer, so's I can give a treat onct a month come next school; and I want every man-jack of you, and ladies too, to come every time. Dad burn ole Heck, generous never ruint nobody!"
Almost unable to believe my eyes and ears, I stood, murmuring to myself, "And they say the day of miracles is past!"
Nucky alone was absent from the feast, visiting Blant. On his return, there was a surprising change in his demeanor. He appeared to have shed several years of age and care, played boisterously about the yard, got into two or three fights, and a short while after we began reading to-night leaped from his chair to the table, where he executed a wild war-dance. All of which distressed me not a little, and seemed perfectly unaccountable. The thought that he was sitting beside me, and leaning his head on my shoulder, for probably the last time, was eating into my heart; and his carelessness of the fact hurt me deeply. But of course parting means little to the very young.