XXII
The Letter from Lon
I.
I never seen a man more prouder ’n Bill
The mornin’ Lon’s first letter come from France.
He’d et ’is breakfas’ an’ was harnessin’,
An’ I stood at the trough a-wat’rin’ Babe,
When ’Viny come a-runnin’ from the road
A-wavin’ suthin’ white an’ screamin’ like
She’d be’n attackted by a bunch o’ bees.
Co’se Laury heerd ’er bawlin’, dropped a pie
Ri’t on the houn’ dawg layin’ by the door,
An’ started like a rabbit fer the yard.
The houn’ was scairt an’ come a-bell’rin’ out
All plastered up with messy strawb’ry dough;
The hens an’ geese an’ ducks got ri’t on aidge
An’ nigh screeched all the’r haids off ez they run
In ev’ry which way, ’n’ yew’d ’a’ tho’t the hull
Dum works was bust. But Bill he only grinned;
He knowed what ’Viny hed, fer he hed heerd
The pos’man’s car come chuggin’ up an’ stop
To our front gate. (Bill didn’t hev ter look,
Fer he kin sense by lis’nen’ ev’ry car
Thet goes by reg’lar—knows ’em by the’r rattle.)
“... D’ye notice, Laury, ’pears ter me like this
Envelop ’s be’n a-monkeyed with somehow;
They’s suthin’ plastered over it that sez—”
An’ then ’e eyed it closter, spellin’ out
The letters ’e hed cut threw with ’is ’nife.
When Laury heerd the words she fired ri’t up;
“Now who’d ye s’pose would be so mean ez thet!
He dassent give ’is reel name ’cos ’e’s ’feerd
He’d git suppeenylized fer tamperin’
With other fokeses letters; so ’e ups
An’ calls hisself thet or’n’ry Sensure thing!
Caint see no sense ter thet; tho’ p’r’aps yew kin.”
She laffed one them thar cuttin’ laffs o’ her’n,
An’ sez ter Bill she’s gotta hurry back
T’ the house an’ ’tend t’ some rewbarb she had left
A-stewin’ on the stove, an’ will ’e fetch
The letter in ez soon ’s ’e’s threw, an’ leeve
It lay whar she kin find it on her burer.
’Fore Bill could ans’er she was runnin’ up
The kitchin steps, an we could hear ’er tell
The houn’ dawg what a newsunce he hed be’n
Ter muss the floor all up with strawb’ry pie.
II.
Bill set a minnit quiet-like, an’ then
Begun t’ onfold the letter. Sich a mess
O’ scraps, an’ holes, an’ long black blots an’ things
Yew never seen. I couldn’t hardly keep
From snik’rin’. Bill smiled tew, an’ ’lowed it must
’A’ took more time an’ trubble tew unwrite
The letter ’n’ ’t did ter write it. Then ’e read,
’Thout skippin’ nuthin’ ’cept the blots and cuts:
“Deer Paw: Wal, here we be at (blank), ’n’ I got
Yoor letter ’n’ Maw’s, ’n’ I sure was mity glad
Ter hear thet yew all’s well an’ gittin’ ’long
Fust rate. Us boys is all a-feelin’ fine,
An’ say, we’re goin’ ter stick ter this ’ere job
Till some of us at enny rate sees thet
Ol’ Potsdam Crocodile throw up the spunge....”
(Thet’s Bill hisself all over ’gin, thinks I;
Them Anjelo-Saxtons jes’ don’t never quit.
Bill’s grate-grate-grampaw come from Summerset
Some years ’fore Jorge the IIIst. was kingin’ it
An’ riled us so ’t we hed ter revolute.)
Bill mumbled on a spell, but said they wa’n’t
No sense in’t ’cos’ so much hed be’n chopped out.
“I jedge,” he sez, “it’s places they come threw,
An’ ossifers he seen, an’ whar they’re goin,’
An’ sich.” Then he begun again: “They’s days,
Paw, when I git ter thinkin’ ’bout the farm,
Ol’ Whitey, Ben, the wood-lot whar me ’n’ yew
Cu’ down the bee tree Fall ’fore last an’ got
A ri’t smart mess o’ honey; ’simmon trees,
Sunsets from our back porch, the furrers I
Hev cut with our ol’ walkin’ plow—Oh Paw,
Yew git me, don’t ye!—then I come ri’t back
An’ look acrost ter whar them Boshes be,
An’ think o’ all the things they done an’ still
Ar’ doin’ ter make this airth a mizzery,
Mad, desp’rit things drove on by them ez knows
They’re in daid ’rong but never’ll give a dam
’Bout lyin’, killin’—then I know my job,
’N’ I’m glad I’m here, ’n’ I know yew be—”
Bill run
T’ the crib nigh whar we was, said he’d fergot
Suthin,’ ’n’ I knowed ’e never would come back.
I jes’ set thar an’ couldn’t move. He tho’t
I must ’a’ gone an’ couldn’t hear; I did
Tho’—God, how I did leg it out o’ thar!
I went an’ watered all the hogs fi’ times;
’F’ they tasted salt in what they drunk, I know
Whar’t come from. ’N’ all thet day I kep’ a-sayin:
“Them Anjelo-Saxtons jes’ don’t never quit!”