At Boarding School with the Tucker Twins Page 15

  CHAPTER XV.

  HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS.

  I could hardly believe that it was I, Page Allison, who had been off toboarding school. Bracken was so exactly as I left it and I dropped soeasily into my old habits and customs, that I felt as though I had onlydreamed I had been away. The dogs almost ate me up for joy, and MammySusan had three kinds of hot bread for supper. Father and I chatted awayfor dear life for a while, and then we just as naturally settled down toa quiet evening of reading, as though I had merely been over to Miltonto mail a letter. He was vastly pleased to have me back, and every nowand then looked over his glasses at me with a very happy smile on hisdear, old, lean, weather-beaten face; and I lay curled up in a bigSleepy-Hollow chair simply devouring the last "Saturday Evening Post"that I had bought on the train coming from Gresham, feeling that I hadabout the pleasantest home and the best father and kindest Mammy Susanand the finest dogs on earth.

  "Mr. Tucker tells me you have asked him down to hunt," I said as Isurprised a loving glance from Father.

  "Yes, yes, I thought it would be nice if he could come when his girlspay you their promised visit. He is mighty good company. I declare hecan keep a whole party in a good humor," and Father chuckled, evidentlyin remembrance of some witticism of Mr. Tucker's. "We are thinking ofgetting up a deer hunt over in the swamp. Jo Winn shot a good-sized bucklast month and I am told a great many persons have seen deer in thedistance lately."

  This was over in a corner of our county where many small rivers andcreeks formed a perfect network, making very inaccessible, marshy land.The hunting was as a rule pretty good and during the winter we feastedquite royally on wild turkey, partridge and rabbit. Deer, of course,were not so plentiful, but an occasional one was shot. It seems strangethat Virginia, the first state settled, should still be boasting biggame.

  "I wish you could take us. Dum and Dee would like it a lot."

  "And you, I fancy, would just go along out of politeness," he teased.

  "Well, you know I'd rather get killed myself than kill anything, but theTuckers have their own guns and often go hunting with their father. Ibelieve they are very good shots."

  "If you think they can stand the trip, we'll take them. I know you canstand what I can stand, unless boarding school has made you soft. Let mefeel your arm--ah, as hard as ever."

  "That's basketball and gym work. I'd have been soft, indeed, if I hadn'tgone in for athletics. I'm so glad we can go. I'll write to the twins tobring their guns and rough clothes."

  Christmas day came and went with plenty of good cheer and happiness, butnone of the hurry and bustle of the present-day Christmas in town. AtBracken we knew nothing about white tissue paper and Christmas seals andbolts of red and green ribbon. Our simple gifts to one another wereexchanged without much ceremony; and then Father and I got into hisbuggy, with the colt ready to run twenty miles if he could get the bitbetween his teeth, and distributed baskets and bags of candy, nuts andoranges to our many poor neighbors, colored and white. We always had abox of oranges for the holidays and simple candy and mixed nuts bywholesale quantities.

  "I'd like to take these things around on Christmas Eve and let thelittle children think Santa Claus brought them, but I know the motherswould give them their share right away and then there would be nothingfor Christmas day."

  "Well, I believe they think 'Docallison' is a kind of Santy, anyhow," Isaid, as we whizzed up to a particularly poor-looking cabin that seemedto be simply running over with little nigs. The grimy window was blackwith their dusky faces and the doorway was so full that the children infront were being pushed out onto the rickety excuse for a porch.

  "Howdy, Aunt Keziah! I hope you and your family are well this beautifulmorning," called Father, pulling in the colt and taking from between hisknees a large hamper literally running over with sweets.

  "Chris'mus gif'! Chris'mus gif'!" came in a chorus from all the littlemouths. Aunt Keziah hobbled out, smacking the little blacks as she camewith a very horny hand; but they seemed to take it as a kind ofpleasantry and bobbed up grinning from ear to ear.

  "Shet ep, yer lims er Satan! Cyarn't yer see Docallison's colt ain'tgo'nter stan fer no sich yellin's? Chris'mus gif', Docallison! Chris'musgif', Miss Page!"

  This last came with a voice as soft as the wings of a dove, while thetone in which she had admonished the little darkies had been as rough asa nutmeg grater. You could hardly believe the two voices had issued fromthe same lips. Aunt Keziah was the neighborhood "Tender": that is, sheminded the children whose natural guardians had gone away for one reasonor another,--sometimes to work in the cities, sometimes as houseservants for the county families, where such encumbrances as offspringwere not welcome. She was paid a small sum for each child and alwaysspoke of them as "bo'ders."

  Aunt Keziah had her charity, too, (as who has not?) and supportedseveral orphans. These she treated with especial kindness, and alwaysmade the "bo'ders" wait until the objects of charity were helped to"ash-cake an' drippin's."

  Father lifted out the heavy basket and the pickaninnies swarmed likeflies around a molasses barrel.

  "Git back, thar, you kinky-haided Gabe. You know you ain't nothin' but abo'der. You let dis here lil orphant Minnie git fust grab," and Gabe gotback and Minnie came proudly up and got her bag of candy and nuts. Wehad tied the treat up in separate packages so there could be no brokenhearts. Mammy Susan had reported that Aunt Keziah had two new ones,Milly Jourdan's twins, making fourteen in all.

  "What did you name the twins, your new boarders, Aunt Keziah?" I asked.

  Aunt Keziah demanded one thing from her patrons and that was that shebe allowed to name her charges. No matter what their names had been upto the time they entered her domain, they had to be rechristened. A bigboy who had been called Bill for eight winters was now known asClarence. Mary Banks was Chrystobel and Mump Davis, a raw-boned,fiery-looking boy, part Indian, seethed and chafed under the _nom deguerre_ of Fermentation. The charity orphans kept the names theirmothers had seen fit to give them, out of respect for the departed.

  "Well, Miss Page, I studied a long time 'bout them thar twins. Naming ismoughty important fer boys special, sence matrimony cyarn't in no wayimprove 'em, an' I done decided to call 'em Postle Peter an' PistlePaul."

  "Capital, capital!" laughed Father. "I hope Postle Peter and Pistle Paulare healthy. You raise the strongest children in the county, AuntKeziah."

  "Yassir, Docallison," said the old woman with a toothless grin. "They'sa right likely pair. The reason my bo'ders an' all is so healthy is'cause I make 'em wash theyselves. An' ev'y las' one er 'em is gotterhave two shuts or shifts to they backs er I won't tend 'em. An' whatthey ain't a wearin', I puts in a pot an' biles. De boys gits a bigwashin' on Chusdays an' Fridays, an' de gals on Wednesdays an' Sat'days.Sometimes whin de lil gals all gits washed of a Sat'day night, it lookslike it's a kinder pity to was'e all them hot suds what ain't ter saydirty, so I picks out a boy er so dat done got siled some, and makes himtake a extra scrub, jist fer luck. As fer eatin's, dey don't git nothin'but corn braid an' drippin's wif lasses on Sunday ef I kin make out tohave 'em, but dey gits a plenty of what dey do git and de victuals'grees wif 'em, an' I don't never have a nigger a month 'fo he's as fatas a possum."

  "Well, Aunt Keziah, you are doing a fine work, raising healthy citizens.I hope you will have a happy Christmas and a prosperous New Year. Thereare toys enough to go around in the bottom of the basket and here's apound of tea for you and some tobacco for your pipe and some chocolatedrops that are easy to chew."

  "Thank yer, thank yer. Docallison, specially fer de sof' candy. I alwaysdid useter have a sweet tooth but now I ain't got nothin' but a sweetgum, but I's got dat all right."

  Just then the colt, tired of standing, made a bolt and all we could dowas to wave good-by to the funny old woman and her fourteen charges.

  "Old Aunt Keziah is bringing up those children according to theteachings of modern science, even to sterilizing their shirts andshifts, and she doesn't know there is such a
word as germ. I fancy themany cracks in the cabin wall where you can see daylight are partlyresponsible for the health of the 'bo'ders.' I find more sickness amongthe colored people where their cabins are better built and airtight.Ventilation is avoided like the plague," said Father as he got the coltunder control and we went spinning off to some more "pensioners," as hecalled them.

  The doctor's buggy was finally emptied of its load and we skimmed backhome with the colt as fresh as ever, agreeing that we would not give uphorses for all the automobiles under the sun. There is an exhilarationthat comes from driving a good horse that I do not believe a car cangive one, no matter how fine the car or expert the driver.

  Mammy Susan had a dinner for us that was fit for kings and queens. Itseemed a pity to cook so much for just Father and me, but some of thatdinner found its way to many a cabin where Father felt it was mostneeded; and then on Christmas Day the dogs were given extra rations andnot limited to their one big feeding of corn meal and salt, scalded andbaked in a great pan until it was crisp. On this day of days they had abone apiece and all kinds of good scrapings.

  After dinner we settled ourselves to enjoy the Christmas books, of whichthere were many, as our tastes were well known. Father's patients wereconsiderate enough not to send for him all afternoon. Not a soul gotsick on this happy Christmas day. Even poor Sally Winn did not try todie.