Fleda would have known it anywhere, from its extreme peculiarity. It never either rose or fell much from a certain pitch; and at that level the words gurgled forth, seemingly from an everbrimming fountain; he never wanted one; and the stream had neither let nor stay till his modicum of sense had fairly run out. People thought he had not a greater stock of that than some of his neighbours; but he issued an amount of word-currency sufficient for the use of the county.
"He'll run himself agin a post pretty quick," said uncle
Joshua, in a confirmatory tone of voice.
Fleda had a confused idea that somebody was going to hang himself.
"He aint a-workin' things right," said Douglass; "he aint a- workin' things right; he's takin' hold o' everything by the tail end. He aint studied the business; he doesn't know when things is right, and he doesn't know when things is wrong; and if they're wrong, he don't know how to set 'em right. He's got a feller there that aint no more fit to be there, than I am to be Vice-President of the United States; and I aint a-going to say what I think I am fit for, but I ha'n't studied for that place, and I shouldn't like to stand an examination for't; and a man hadn't ought to be a farmer no more if he ha'n't qualified himself. That's my idee. I like to see a thing done well, if it's to be done at all; and there aint a stitch o' land been laid right on the hull farm, nor a furrow driv' as it had ought to be, since he came on to it; and I say, Squire Springer, a man aint going to get along in that way, and he hadn't ought to. I work hard myself, and I calculate to work hard, and I make a livin' by't; and I'm content to work hard. When I see a man with his hands in his pockets, I think he'll have nothin' else in 'em soon. I don't believe he's done a hand's turn himself on the land the hull season!"
And upon this Mr. Douglass brought up.
"My son, Lucas, has been workin' with him, off and on, pretty much the hull time since he come; and he says he ha'n't begun to know how to spell farmer yet."
"Ay, ay! My wife she's a little harder on folks than I be I think it aint worth while to say nothin' of a man without I can say some good of him that's my idee; and it don't do no harm, nother; but my wife, she says he's got to let down his notions a peg or two afore they'll hitch just in the right place; and I wont say but what I think she aint, maybe, fur from right. If a man's above his business, he stands a pretty fair chance to be below it some day. I wont say myself, for I haven't any acquaintance with him, and a man oughtn't to speak but of what he's knowing to; but I have heerd say, that he wa'n't as conversationable as it would ha' been handsome in him to be, all things considerin.' There seems to be a good many things said of him, somehow, and l always think men don't talk of a man if he don't give 'em occasion; but, anyhow, I've been past the farm pretty often myself this summer, working with Seth Plumfield; and I've took notice of things myself; and I know he's been makin' beds o' sparrowgrass when he had ought to ha' been makin' fences, and he's been helpin' that little girl o' his'n set her flowers, when he would ha' been better sot to work lookin' after his Irishman. But I don't know as it made much matter, nother; for if he went wrong, Mr. Rossitur wouldn't know how to set him right, and if he was a- going right, Mr. Rossitur would ha' been just as likely to ha' set him wrong. Well, I'm sorry for him!"
"Mr. Rossitur is a most gentlemanlike man," said the voice of
Dr. Quackenboss.
"Ay I dare say he is," Earl responded, in precisely the same tone. "I was down to his house one day last summer to see him. He wa'n't to hum, though."
"It would be strange if harm come to a man with such a guardian angel in the house as that man has in his'n." said Dr. Quackenboss.