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Mothering on Perilous

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<h2><SPAN name="chapter26" id="chapter26"></SPAN><abbr title="Twenty-Six">XXVI</abbr><br/> "MARVLES" AND MARVELS</h2> <h3>Thursday.</h3> <p>Yesterday, when the ground was hard and smooth, but not too dry, marbles struck the school like a lightning express. It appears that before school in the morning Geordie had "trusted" a few leading spirits (Taulbee and Philip among the cottage boys, Lige Munn and Harl Drake among the day-pupils) with sets of marbles, giving them three days' time in which to pay him the ten cents a set. At noon playtime I was surrounded by a mob of my boys, loudly demanding extra work, while the woodwork teacher was beseiged by day-pupils of all sizes and ages, demanding extra jobs in the shop.</p> <p>When Hen told me before supper that all the "day-schools" as well as the cottage boys were buying "marvles" from Geordie, I said, "Oh, you must be mistaken. Geordie has not more than the dozen sets he traded you boys out of after Christmas, and possibly a few others collected before."</p> <p>Hen looked wise. "You never knowed he had a marvle-mill a-running back yander in the branch, ever sence he got the stable-job?" he said.</p> <p>"What in the world?" I demanded.</p> <p>"Right there under the stable-lot fence, where the branch falls into Perilous, he took'n made him four little troughs, that takes streams out and draps 'em into four holes he's got hollered out in a flat rock underneath. All he's got to do is to put a chunk of sandstone in every hole, and the water keeps it a-whirling till first thing it knows it's a pure marvle; and then he puts in another chunk. He makes him twelve marvles a day thataway—it haint no trouble to drap in the chunks whilst he's watering the nags—and he's been at it stiddy for six weeks. I kotch him at it one time, and he give me a set not to tell t'other boys. Marvles! Gee-oh, he's got 'em!"</p> <div class="figcenter"><SPAN name="image20" id="image20"></SPAN> <SPAN href="images/image20.png"> <ANTIMG src="images/image20th.png" width-obs="263" height-obs="224" alt="Geordie is by the stream with a wooden contraption in the process of making marbles. Hen is nearby observing." title="'I kotch him at it one time.'" /></SPAN> <q class="caption">'I kotch him at it one time.'</q></div> <h3>Saturday Night.</h3> <p>Philip carries on his siege with characteristic vigor, leaving nothing undone to win the citadel of Dilsey's difficult affections, and enduring as best he may the painful moments caused by her too-great particularity in trifles. This morning I passed down through the back yard while the washing was in full progress. The girls were working and singing at their tubs under the big sycamore. A little to one side, Philip was energetically turning the wringer for Dilsey. He paused, as I passed, to blow his nose after the good old fashion of our first parents, to be cruelly reminded by her, "I allus blow <em>mine</em> on a handkerchief!"</p> <h3>Tuesday.</h3> <p>Blant's declaration that he has "shot his last shoot" has become widely known, and occasions a sensation. The boys are incredulous. Taulbee said this evening (Nucky being at the jail),</p> <p>"Of course he never meant it,—a hero like Blant to give up his life, or his freedom, or his land, for the lack of a shot? No, I'll bound you he said it to throw dust in their eyes so's they won't look for him to escape. If Blant could get his fingers on a forty-five, they'd soon see whether he'd shoot!"</p> <h3>Friday.</h3> <p>Excited groups dot the school-yard and cottage-grounds every recess and playtime, and cries of "No inchin's!", "My taw!", "Pickin's on me!", "No back-killin's!", "I beat, but you git the goes!" fill the air. Marbles is such a quiet and genteel game, comparatively speaking, and with so much less menace to life and limb than preceding ones, that I encourage and forward it in every way, and sincerely hope it will last out the term. The boys seem most unfortunate, however, about losing their marbles, and are constantly asking for extra work in order to buy more. I have already given Jason money to buy half a dozen sets.</p> <h3>Saturday Night.</h3> <p>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!"</p> <p>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!"</p> <p>"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!"</p> <p>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."</p> <p>"Well, I would, if I was you," murmured Dilsey, with decision, as she passed on.</p> <p>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.</p> <h3>Sunday.</h3> <p>Flour all gone,—no more biscuit from now on until the roads open—and no sugar for the little coffee that remains.</p> <h3>Monday Evening.</h3> <p>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.</p> <h3>Tuesday Night.</h3> <p>I was late going over to supper this evening, and had turned out the lights and was locking my door to leave when Nucky ran into the cottage. He did not see me in the shadow, and evidently believed the house to be deserted, for he flung himself down before the fire in a passion of fury and despair, beating the floor with hands and feet. I waited until the storm had subsided a little, then stepped forward into the firelight.</p> <p>"What does this mean?" I asked.</p> <p>"Mean!" he replied. "It means that Blant has took leave of his senses,—that he aint at himself no more,—that he has gone plumb back on everything!"</p> <p>"Explain yourself," I said.</p> <p>"I heared the Cheevers had set the fence back, and went over, and there it was, built good and strong, on our land. I knowed I couldn't do nothing myself; but I said, 'This will wake Blant; he will break prison and come back to us now, like I been a-begging him. He can clean out the jail and make his escape in ten seconds with his forty-five.' So I got it, and brung it over, and tuck it down to the jail this evening at the time I knowed Joe would begin to take the boys off to their cells for the night. I never went in, but talked to Blant at the window, and told him the Cheevers had the fence sot up, and how bad everything was at home. Then Joe he begun to take the boys off, and soon as he turnt his back, I slipped the forty-five through the bars to Blant. 'Shoot him down when he comes back,' I says, 'and take the keys and run out,—it haint no trouble at all!' Blant he sort of jumped when he seed it; then he heared Joe a-coming, and turnt around with his back again' the window, 'Joe,' he says, solemn, 'you and t'other boys here never believed me when I said I had shot my last shoot,—you thought I was just a-talking. Now I will prove it to you. Nucky here has just brung me word that the Cheevers has sot up the fence on our land again; he has begged me to make my escape and settle 'em; he has also brung me the means of doing it. Joe,' he says, 'when you stepped in the door there, I could have shot you dead with my forty-five.' He stepped aside from the window, where the pistol was laying. 'Take it, Joe,' he says, 'I refuse to touch it; I have shot my last shoot!' Joe come acrost the room white as a sheet. 'That's mighty fair of you, Blant,' he says, putting it in his pocket; 'you held my life in your hand.' 'If it was the life of my worst enemy,—if it was all the Cheevers put together—it would be the same,' says Blant; 'I am cured of killing; Rich's death has showed me the terribleness of it; I shoot no more!' And then seemed like I would choke if I looked at him another minute, and I run off. And now nothing haint no use,—Blant's lost his senses, and nothing can't bring him to 'em!" Again he beat the floor despairingly.</p> <div class="figcenter"><SPAN name="image21" id="image21"></SPAN> <SPAN href="images/image21.png"> <ANTIMG src="images/image21th.png" width-obs="169" height-obs="282" alt="Blant is facing away from the gun, gesturing for Joe to pick it up. Nucky who is looking in through the bars and Joe are both amazed. In the foreground there are a couple of chairs and a table with playing cards on it." title="'Take it, Joe, I refuse to touch it, I have shot my last shoot!'" /></SPAN> <q class="caption">'Take it, Joe, I refuse to touch it, I have shot my last shoot!'</q></div> <p>"So far from losing his senses," I said, "he has just come to them. It took the terrible death of his friend to show him the sacredness of human life, and the worthlessness of pride, freedom, or land in comparison with it. This is hard for you to understand, Nucky; but be sure that this evening Blant has done the greatest, most heroic act of his life."</p> <p>The storm of disappointment and anger was too great, however; it continued to sweep him until he heard the boys coming and hurried away to bed.</p> <hr /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />

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