Sonny, a Christmas Guest Part 12

I had felt obligated to swaller a few spoonfuls o' the salted custard when she'd be lookin' my way, an' I felt like ez ef I was pizened, an'

so I thess took the painkiller ez a sort o' anecdote.

Another way Mary Elizabeth shows sense is the way she accepts discipline from the ol' n.i.g.g.e.r, Dicey.

She's mighty old an' strenuous now, Dicey is, an' she thinks because she was present at Sonny's birth an' before it, thet she's privileged to correct him for anything he does, and we've always indulged her in it, an' thess ez soon as she knowed what was brewin' 'twix' him an' Mary Elizabeth, why, she took her into the same custody, an' it's too cute for anything the way the little girl takes a scoldin' from her--thess winkin' at Sonny an' me while she receives it.

An' the ol' n.i.g.g.e.r'd lay down her life for her most ez quick ez she would for Sonny.

She was the first to open our eyes to the state of affairs 'twixt the two child'en, that ol' n.i.g.g.e.r was. It was the first year Sonny went North. He had writ home to his ma from New York State, and said thet Mr.

Burroughs had looked over his little writings an' said they was good enough to be printed an' bound up in a book.

Wife, she read the letter out loud, ez she always done, an' we noticed thet when we come to that, Mary Elizabeth slipped out o' the room; but we didn't think nothin' of it tell direc'ly ol' Dicey, she come in tickled all but to death to tell us thet the little girl was out on the po'ch with her face hid in the honeysuckle vines, cryin' thess ez hard as we was. So then, of co'se, we knowed that ef the co'se of true love could be allowed to run smooth for once-t, she was fo'-ordained to be our little blessin'--an' his--that is, so far as she was concerned.

Of co'se we was even a little tenderer todes her, after that, than we had been befo'.

That was over five year ago, an' th' ain't been a day sca'cely sence then but we've seen her, an' in my jedgment they won't be nothin'

lackin' in her thet's needful in a little wife--not a thing.

Ef they's anything in long acquaintance, they've certainly knowed one another all the time they've had.

Of co'se Mary Elizabeth, she ain't to say got Sonny's thoughts, exac'ly, where it comes to sech a thing ez book-writin', but he says she's a heap better educated 'n what he is.

She's got all her tuition repo'ts du'in' the whole time she attended school, an' mostly all her precentages was up close onto the hund'eds.

Sonny never was no hand on earth to git good reports at school.

They was always so low down in figgurs thet he calls 'em his "misconduc'

slips."

But they ain't a one he's ever got, takin' 'em from the beginnin' clean up to the day o' his gradjuatin', thet ain't got some lovin' remark inscribed acrost it from his teacher--not a one.

Even them that wrastled with him most severe has writ him down friendly an' kind.

An' little Mary Elizabeth--why, she's took every last one of 'em an'

she's feather-st.i.tched 'em aroun' the edges an' sewed 'em up into a sort o' little book, an' tied a ribbin' bow acrost it. I don't know whether she done it on account o' the teacher's remarks or not--but she cert'n'y does prize that pamphlet.

She thinks so much of it thet I been advisin' her to take out a fire insu'ance on it.

In a heap o' ways she thess perzacly suits Sonny. Lookin' at it from one p'int o' view, she's a sort o' dictionary to him.

Whenever Sonny finds hisself short of a date, f' instance, or some unreasonable spellin' 'll bother 'im, why, he'll apply to her for it an'

she'll hand it out to him, intac'. I ain't never knew her to fail.

You see, while Sonny's thoughts is purty far-reachin' in some ways, he's received his education so sort o' hit an' miss thet the things he knows ain't to say catalogued in his mind, an' while he'll know one fac', maybe he won't be able to recall another thet seems to belong hand in hand with it. An' that's one reason why I say thet little Mary Elizabeth is thess the wife for him.

She may not bother about the whys an' wherefores, but she's got the statistics.

It's always well, in a married couple, to have either one or the other statistical, so thet any needed fac' can be had on demand.

Wife, she was a heap more gifted that-a-way 'n what I was, but of co'se hers wasn't so much book statistics.

She could give the name an' age of every cow an' calf on the farm, an'

relate any circ.u.mstance thet has took place within her recollection or mine without the loss of a single date or any gain through imagination, either.

I don't know but I think that's a greater gif' than the other, to be able to reproduce a event after a long time without sort o' thess techin' it up with a little exaggeration.

Th' ain't no finer trait, in my opinion, _in man or woman_, than dependableness, an' that's another reason I take sech special delight in the little daughter, Mary Elizabeth.

If she tells you a thing's black, why you may know it don't lean todes brown or gray. It's thess a dismal black.

She may hate to say it, an' show her hatred in a dozen lovin', regretful ways, but out it'll come.

An' I think thet any man thet can count on a devoted wife for _exact.i.tude_ is blessed beyond common.

So many exac' women is col'-breasted an' severe. An' ef I had to take one or the other, why, I'd let my wife prevaricate a little, ef need be, befo' I'd relinquish warmheartedness, an' the power to command peacefulness an' rest, an' make things comfortable an' homely, day in an' day out.

Maybe I'm unprincipled in that, but life is so short, an' ef we didn't have lovin' ways to lengthen out our days, why I don't think I'd keer to bother with it, less'n, of co'se, I might be needful to somebody else.

Yas, doc', I 'm mighty happy in the little daughter--an' the book--an'

the blessed boy hisself. Maybe I'm too talkative on the subject, but the way I feel about him, I might discuss him forever, an' then they'd be thess a little sweetness left over thet I couldn't put into words about him.

Not thet he's faultless. I don't suppose they ever was a boy on earth thet had mo' faults 'n Sonny, but they ain't one he's got thet I don't seem to cherish because I know it's rooted in honest soil.

You may strike a weed now an' ag'in, but he don't grow no pizen vines in his little wilderness o' short-comin's. Th' ain't no nettles in his garden o' faults. That ain't a bad figgur o' speech for a ol' man like me, is it, doctor?

But nex' time he stops an' tells you I'm sick, you thess tell him to go about his business.

I'm failin' in stren'th ez the days go--an' I know it--an' it's all right.

I don't ask no mo' 'n thess to pa.s.s on whenever the good Lord wills.

But of co'se I ain't in no hurry, an' they's one joy I'd like to feel befo' that time comes.

I'd love to hol' Sonny's baby in my ol' arms--his an' hers--an' to see thet the good ol' name o' Jones has had safe transportation into one mo'

generation of honest folks.

Sonny an' Mary Elizabeth are too sweet-hearted an' true not to be reproduced in detail, an' pa.s.sed along.

This here ol' oak tree thet gran'pa planted when I was a kid, why, it'd be a fine shady place for healthy girls an' boys to play under.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Seem like a person don't no mo' 'n realize he's a descendant befo' he's a' ancestor."]

When I set here by myself on this po'ch so much these days an'

think,--an' remember,--why I thess wonder over the pa.s.sage o' time.

I ricollec' thess ez well when gran'pa planted that oak saplin'. My pa he helt it stiddy an' I handed gran'pa the spade, an' we took off our hats whilst he repeated a Bible tex'.