"Han"some is that han"some looks I say," Mrs. Lukins continued with a dreamy look in her eye.
"I like a man that"ll bear inspection--up an" a comin" an" neat an" trim as a buck deer," Mrs. Ferguson confessed.
"An" the first ye know he"s up an" a goin"," said Mrs. Samuel Hill. "An then all ye have to look at is a family o" children an" the empty bread box."
"Wait until Abe has shed his coat an" is filled out a little. He"ll be a good-lookin" man an" I wouldn"t wonder," Mrs. Waddell maintained.
"If Abe lives he"ll be a great man, I think," said Mrs. Dr. Allen. "I forgot how he looked when I heard him talking the other night at the debate in the schoolhouse about the flogging of sailors with the cat o"
nine tails. He has a wonderful gift. If I were Ann I should be proud of his friendship and proud to go with him to the parties."
"I am," said Ann meekly, with her eyes upon her work. "I love to hear him talk, too."
"Oh, land o" mercy! He"s good company if you only use your ears," Mrs.
Ferguson remarked. "Mis" Traylor, where did you git your man?"
"At Vergennes. We were born in the same neighborhood and grew up together," said Sarah.
"Now there"s the kind of a man! Stout as a buffalo an" as to looks I"d call him, as ye might say, real copasetic." Mrs. Lukins expressed this opinion solemnly and with a slight cough. Its last word stood for nothing more than an indefinite depth of meaning. She added by way of drawing the curtain of history: "I"ll bet _he_ didn"t dilly dally long when he made up his mind. I reckon he were plum owdacious."
"What a pretty pattern this is!" said Sarah with a sudden shift of front.
Mrs. Lukins was not to be driven from the Elysian fields so easily and forthwith she told the story of her own courtship.
A bountiful dinner of stewed venison and chicken pie and tea and frosted cake was served, all hands turning in to help with the table and the cleaning up. While they were eating Sarah told of her long journey and their trials with fever and ague.
"It"s the worst part of going west but it really isn"t very dangerous,"
said Mrs. Dr. Allen.
"Nine scoops o" water in the holler o" the hand from a good spring for three mornin"s before sunrise an" strong coffee with lemon juice will break the ager every time," said Mrs. Lukins. "My gran" mammy used to say it were better than all the doctors an" I"ve tried it an" know what it"ll do."
"I suppose if you got ten scoops it would be no good," said Sarah with a laugh in which Mrs. Allen and some of the others joined.
Mrs. Lukins looked offended. "When I"m takin" medicine I always foller directions," said she.
So the day pa.s.sed with them and was interrupted by the noisy entrance of Joe, soon after candlelight, who climbed on the back of his mother"s chair and kissed her and in breathless eagerness began to relate the history of his own day.
That ended the quilting party and Sarah and Mrs. Rutledge and Ann joined Samson and Abe and Harry Needles who were waiting outside and walked to the tavern with them.
John McNeil, whom the Traylors had met on the road near Niagara Falls and who had shared their camp with them, arrived on the stage that evening.
He was dressed in a new b.u.t.ternut suit and clean linen and looked very handsome. Samson writes that he resembled the pictures of Robert Emmet.
With fine, dark eyes, a smooth skin, well moulded features and black hair neatly brushed on a shapely head he was not at all like the rugged Abe.
In a low tone and very modestly, with a slight brogue on his tongue he told of his adventures on the long, sh.o.r.e road to Michigan. Ann sat listening and looking into his face as he talked. Abe came in, soon after eight o"clock, and was introduced to the stranger. All noted the contrast between the two young men as they greeted each other. Abe sat down for a few minutes and looked sadly into the fire but said nothing. He rose presently, excused himself and went away.
Soon Samson followed him. Over at Offut"s store he did not find Abe, but Bill Berry was drawing liquor from the spigot of a barrel set on blocks in a shed connected with the rear end of the store and serving it to a number of hilarious young Irishmen. His shirt was soiled. Its morning-glories had grown dim in a kind of dusty twilight. The young men asked Samson to join them.
"No, thank you. I never touch it," he said.
"We"ll come over here an" learn ye how to enjoy yerself some day," one of them said.
"I"m pretty well posted on that subject now," Samson answered.
It is likely that they would have begun his schooling at once but when they came out into the store and saw the big Vermonter standing in the candlelight their laughter ceased for a moment. Bill was among them with a well filled bottle in his hand.
He and the others got into a wagon which had been waiting at the door and drove away with a wild Indian whoop from the lips of one of the young men.
Samson sat down in the candlelight and Abe in a moment arrived.
"I"m getting awful sick o" this business," said Abe.
"I kind o" guess you don"t like the whisky part of it," Samson remarked, as he felt a piece of cloth.
"I hate it," Abe went on. "It don"t seem respectable any longer."
"Back in Vermont we don"t like the whisky business."
"You"re right, it breeds deviltry and disorder. In my youth I was surrounded by whisky. Everybody drank it. A bottle or a jug of liquor was thought to be as legitimate a piece of merchandise as a pound of tea or a yard of calico. That"s the way I"ve always thought of it. But lately I"ve begun to get the Yankee notion about whisky. When it gets into bad company it can raise the devil."
Soon after nine o"clock Abe drew a mattress filled with corn husks from under the counter, cleared away the bolts of cloth and laid it where they had been and covered it with a blanket.
"This is my bed," said he. "I"ll be up at five in the morning. Then I"ll be making tea here by the fireplace to wash down some jerked meat and a hunk o" bread. At six or a little after I"ll be ready to go with you again. Jack Kelso is going to look after the store to-morrow."
He began to laugh.
"Ye know when I went out of the tavern that little vixen stood peekin"
into the window--Bim, Jack"s girl," said Abe. "I asked her why she didn"t go in and she said she was scared. "Who you "fraid of?" I asked. "Oh, I reckon that boy," says she. And honestly her hand trembled when she took hold of my arm and walked to her" father"s house with me."
Abe snickered as he spread another blanket. "What a cut-up she is! Say, we"ll have some fun watching them two I reckon," he said.
The logs were ready two days after the cutting began. Martin Waddell and Samuel Hill sent teams to haul them. John Cameron and Peter Lukins had brought the window sash and some clapboards from Beardstown in a small flat boat. Then came the day of the raising--a clear, warm day early in September. All the men from the village and the near farms gathered to help make a home for the newcomers. Samson and Jack Kelso went out for a hunt after the cutting and brought in a fat buck and many grouse for the bee dinner, to which every woman of the neighborhood made a contribution of cake or pie or cookies or doughnuts.
"What will be my part?" Samson had inquired of Kelso.
"Nothing but a jug of whisky and a kind word and a house warming," Kelso had answered.
They notched and bored the logs and made pins to bind them and cut those that were to go around the fireplace and window s.p.a.ces. Strong, willing and well trained hands hewed and fitted the logs together. Alexander Ferguson lined the fireplace with a curious mortar made of clay in which he mixed gra.s.s for a binder. This mortar he rolled into layers called "cats," each eight inches long and three inches thick. Then he laid them against the logs and held them in place with a woven network of sticks.
The first fire--a slow one--baked the clay into a rigid stone-like sheath inside the logs and presently the sticks were burned away. The women had cooked the meats by an open fire and spread the dinner on a table of rough boards resting on poles set in crotches. At noon one of them sounded a conch sh.e.l.l. Then with shouts of joy the men hurried to the fireside and for a moment there was a great spluttering over the wash basins. Before they ate every man except Abe and Samson "took a pull at the jug--long or short"--to quote a phrase of the time.
It was a cheerful company that sat down upon the gra.s.s around the table with loaded plates. Their food had its extra seasoning of merry jests and loud laughter. Sarah was a little shocked at the forthright directness of their eating, no knives or forks or napkins being needed in that process.
Having eaten, washed and packed away their dishes the women went home at two. Before they had gone Samson"s ears caught a thunder of horses" feet in the distance. Looking in its direction he saw a cloud of dust in the road and a band of hors.e.m.e.n riding toward them at full speed. Abe came to him and said:
"I see the boys from Clary"s Grove are coming. If they get mean let me deal with "em. It"s my responsibility. I wouldn"t wonder if they had some of Offut"s whisky with them."
The boys arrived in a cloud of dust and a chorus of Indian whoops and dismounted and hobbled their horses. They came toward the workers, led by burly Jack Armstrong, a stalwart, hard-faced blacksmith of about twenty-two with broad, heavy shoulders, whose name has gone into history.
They had been drinking some but no one of them was in the least degree off his balance. They scuffled around the jug for a moment in perfect good nature and then Abe and Mrs. Waddell provided them with the best remnants of the dinner. They were rather noisy. Soon they went up on the roof to help with the rafters and the clapboarding. They worked well a few minutes and suddenly they came scrambling down for another pull at the jug. They were out for a spree and Abe knew it and knew further that they had reached the limit of discretion.
"Boys, there are ladies here and we"ve got to be careful," he said. "Did I ever tell you what Uncle Jerry Holman said of his bull calf? He said the calf was such a _suckcess_ that he didn"t leave any milk for the family and that while the calf was growin" fat the children was growin"
poor. In my opinion you"re about fat enough for the present. Le"s stick to the job till four o"clock. Then we"ll knock off for refreshments."