The Paron's Proxy

Front matter

by- KATE W. HAMILTON author of " rachbl's share of the road" LONDON: ANDREW MELROSE 16 Pilgrim Street, E.C. CONTENTS CHAP. PAGB I. "a kinder weddin'" ..... 7 II. "not on the squar'" . ... 27 III. BY WAY OF REPARATION . . . . .42 IV. BERRIES AND NAPOLEON . . . . .56 V. THE BIG MEETIN' ...... 69 VI. " I B'LONG TO HIM " . . . . . .82 VII. A DAY AT THE CAMP . . . . .92 VIII. BY WAY OF THE TRAM ..... 109 IX. A QUEER CUPBOARD ...... 122 X. WHO SHALL HAVE JIM ?..... 135 XI. A KIDNAPPING PRESCRIPTION .... 147 XII. A QUESTION OF INCIDENTALS .... 161 xtii. "a-womanin"' ...... 175 XIV. IN THE MOONLIGHT . . . . .188 XV. OBEYING ORDERS ...... 200 XVI. BEHIND THE CUPBOARD ..... 211 XVII. MORNING AND AFTERNOON ..... THE PAESON'S PEOXY

Chapter I

"A KINDER WEDDIN'." ABP.OAD-BKIMMED hat with a pair of twinkling eyes beneath it appeared at the open doorway, and a voice that gravely endeavoured to contradict the eyes announced — " Here's an invitation for you, Mrs. Sterling." " An invitation ? In this wilderness ? " Mrs. Sterling, a delicate, blue-eyed little woman, dropped the long ends of ribbon she was looping on a baby's sleeve, and looked up wonderingly. " From whom ? Where ? " " Two young men sidled up to the fence a few minutes ago, while I was trying to cultivate the virgin soil in our potato-patch, and each seemed so possessed by an insane desire to hide behind the other that I couldn't help looking at them. When they had satisfied themselves that their experiment was an impossibility, and moreover that they had attracted my attention, they inquired if I might be the Parson."

"Well, you might be," admitted Mrs. Sterling, criti cally surveying the gardening costume from the flapping straw hat to the coarse overalls, " but you certainly don't look like it." " They accepted my word for it, however, without proof — no, not altogether, perhaps, for they said they ' sorter s'posed I might be by the way I hoed.' My dear, did you ever observe anything clerical in my manner of hoeing ? " " Excepting the long intervals between sixthly and seventhly in your strokes, and the reaching of rather slim conclusions," suggested Mrs. Sterling. " H'm ! " Mr. Sterling reflected and waived the point. " They informed me that there was to be a ' kinder weddin' out to our place,' and that they would like to have me ' come an' do the job.' Then, when they were half across the road, and I was stumbling back over the potato-field, they turned and shouted that they ' 'lowed the women-folks would be mighty sot up to have Mis' Parson come too.' That was your invitation, madam ; it was cordial."

" And charmingly unconventional. You must go, for there may be a fee ; but I shall not be fee'd, and you may carry my regrets," laughed the lady. " How your sister would enjoy going if she only were here ! " " Nelson ? Ye-s." The slow assent had a note of doubt in it. In the "A Kinder Wedain" 9 depths of his heart, Bev. John Sterling was not sure that the prospect of his sister's visit here and now was an unmixed satisfaction to him. Nelson liked odd people and places as a study, but he had a feeling that his relation to these natives was, or ought to be, some what different from the mere curio-seeker's. Besides, Nelson would view them as his surroundings, and this only sister had anticipated great things for him, and a place which assuredly was not this one. It might have been that a lurking disappointment in himself lay at the root of his fear that she had been disappointed in him, and that he should read it in her eyes.

He was here only temporarily, because his health had failed, and this wild hilly region had been selected as best suited to both physical and financial conditions. He reminded himself of this, and yet there was a vague disquiet in the retrospect of his three years of city work. His wife knew nothing of such doubts and question ings. Having given him the " terrible indorsement " of marrying him, she believed that his wisdom and ability were sufficient for any position, and it had not occurred to her that anyone might doubt it. "Yes, Nelson would enjoy this," she repeated very heartily. " I do wish she were here to go with you, John." " Without an invitation ? " laughed John. " How can you think of such a breach of etiquette ? " Nevertheless, he not only thought of it, but promptly carried the plan into effect the next day, when, crossing the railroad track, he came unexpectedly upon a brown robed figure standing helplessly by the little box-like station.

Rumbling along in a vehicle of decidedly rheumatic tendencies, he had failed to notice the sound of a passing train, and when, half an hour later, he reached the narrow iron track, he would have driven abstractedly across it had he not been stopped by an eager cry — " Oh, John ! " He stared at the brown vision blankly for a moment before he fully comprehended its identity — a vision fair to look upon, with slender, erect figure, grey eyes alight with sudden pleasure, and little rings of brown hair wind-tossed over a pretty forehead. " Nelson Sterling ! How on earth " — " Oh, I'm so glad you are here ! " she interposed, with a sigh of relief. " It seems to me I have waited hours at this miserable little place, and I began to fear my telegram hadn't reached you. I couldn't find anything in the shape of a conveyance.

Why were you so late ? " " Late ? telegram ? " repeated the bewildered listener. " Why, you poor little dupe of civilisation, did you really try to send a despatch to this outer edge of creation ? The only wonder is you did not wait here for days instead of hours. You might have done so if kindly circumstances had not led me in this direction." " Or if there had been any possible place to stay in," added Nelson, with a decisive little nod which seemed to say that she was not one to tamely wait for circum- '" 11 stances. "Well, what will you do with me?" she questioned, when the situation had at length been explained. " It will not do to delay a wedding-party while you turn backward two or three miles to take me home." So, as the only alternative, — one in truth that she was not unwilling to accept, — it was decided that she should accompany her brother.

" Only I am in travelling-dress, and scarcely present able," she murmured in natural feminine protest. There was a misehievous light in the Eeverend John's eyes as he surveyed her for a moment, but he vouchsafed no more comforting assurance than that he fancied the people would not be critical. It was a wild, lonely road over which they travelled, passing but few dwellings, and these of the poorer sort. Sometimes from an elevated point they caught a glimpse of what in the distance looked like comfortable farm houses, but for the most part signs of human habitation were rare. Nature amply atoned for all such defici encies, however, by the beauty of the rugged hillsides, while the chattering of mountain streams and strange, sweet bird-calls broke the forest stillness. Another sound, not so harmonious, forced itself upon Nelson's notice in one of the pauses of conversation.

" How this waggon does groan, John ! — or do you really call your equipage a waggon ? " " Its former owner recommended it as a ' cross betwixt a kyart an' a kerridge, an' powerful light runnin'.' The The Parson s Proxy 12 latter quality may have existed only in his poetic imagination," answered Mr. Sterling, with a doubtful glance at the wheels. " I have a suspicion that such must have been the case." The road that had been winding in and out through little valleys and over low hills now began a steeper ascent, and presently seemed but a shelf cut in the towering hillside. On one hand rose the rugged wall, with patches of bare rock showing here and there between its hardy trees and clambering vines, while on the other hand was a sharp descent to the stream that flowed far down in the ravine below.

" The natives call this ascent the ' Backbone,' " explained Mr. Sterling. " It makes the chills creep up mine to think what would happen if we met another vehicle," answered Nelson, with a laugh that was a trifle nervous. No other traveller was in sight, but the road grew narrower still as it curved around a rocky projection. Little rills from mountain springs trickling across it here and there had worn furrows in their course, and the varying colour in Nelson's cheeks betrayed how anxiously she noted every unevenness or tilting of the wheels. But she did not " belong to the screaming, fainting sisterhood," as she often proudly assured herself, and her only audible comment was one of pleasure when she saw that the perilous stretch of road was almost ended. It was just there, however, that, on the sidling ledge with its bed of moist leaves, the treacherous wheels slipped, and in a moment the outer ones were on the crumbling edge of the declivity.

A quick flash of the whip caused the startled horse to spring forward, and the waggon swayed so swiftly to the other side of the road that it struck against the bank. They were safe ; but an effort to drive forward speedily revealed the fact that the sudden turns and violent wrenching had been too much for the rheumatic vehicle. " A broken bolt, I think," commented Mr. Sterling, when with constantly increasing jolting and groaning it had been dragged slowly forward to level ground, and had come to a full halt. " And a loosened tire," he added, after he had alighted and made a closer scrutiny. " Now what are we to do ? " Nelson pointed out a thin column of smoke arising at a little distance, and suggested that the clump of trees probably concealed a house. " If it were only a blacksmith-shop !

" said Mr. Sterling ruefully ; but he unfastened the horse from the stranded waggon, and led him in the direction in which Nelson was slowly advancing. A low log cabin, with rude chimney built outside, presently met their view. The door stood invitingly open, as doors of its class are sure to do except in the most bitter weather, and as the travellers reached the threshold, the only occupant of the place turned toward them with the customary " Howdy ? " as calmly as if they had been expected. She was an old woman, tall, thin, and wiry, with a wrinkled brown face, which reminded Nelson of the hickory-nut dolls of her childhood. The white hair, which contrasted so oddly with the dark face, had evidently been twisted up with the sole idea of disposing of it as expeditiously and entirely as possible, and was drawn into a tight knot at the back of the head.

Only the sharp black eyes under the grey brows and a certain swiftness of movement refuted the story of age. Some thing was cooking in the wide, open fireplace, and a sinewy brown hand swung the kettle to a safe place upon the hearth while Mr. Sterling explained his mishap. " Bruk down ? Ye might 'a' done wuss 'n that ; it's a pow'rful bad bit o' road. We 'ns don't travel it now. No, thar ain't no blacksmith 'round yere — not nigher 'n Kodd's Corners. The boys might patch up yer wheels so's ye could git on, I reckon, but they ain't yere ; all skedaddled to the weddin'. They ain't wuth shucks when there's any foolishness goin' on, an' thar giner'ly is." The minister and his sister looked at each other in dismay, and then the former laughed. " Our accident will disappoint others still more than ourselves, I fear, for we too were going to the wedding, and I am expected to do the marrying."

" Ye be ? " The old woman bestowed a glance of awakened interest upon her visitors. " Then I 'low ye must be that new parson I've heerd 'bout ? Well, ef one of yer kind was ever needed anywheres, it's right round yere. I kin tell ye that. Sakes ! I dunno 's ye kin do any good, though — dunno 's Nebycanneezur himself could. It's a mighty bad place. Come in an' rest a bit." She placed chairs uncomfortably near the fire, and at the same time routed by foot and word two great dogs who were lying there. " G-it out, Tige ! Hist yer bones, Jowl ! Set, won't ye ? " The last sentence was addressed to her callers, but Mr. Sterling declined the invitation. He must keep his appointment if possible. Could he obtain a waggon anywhere in the neighbourhood ? Was there any conveyance ? " I hain't no conveyer — ef that's what you call a kerridge," interrupted the old woman ; " but I hev got a beast, an' I laid out to ride over to that weddin' myself.

If yer lady " — " My sister, Mrs. — " began the gentleman in broken introduction. " Slocum — Granny Slocum all round yere calls me," supplemented the hostess promptly. " If yer sister kin ride your hoss, — I'll hunt some kind of a saddle fer her, — I kin ride mine, an' 'tain't more 'n two miles crost kentry. I reckon ye kin walk that fur ? " " Oh yes," assented Mr. Sterling, greatly relieved. Mrs. Slocum looked relieved also, as if she had not been quite sure what amount of incapacity might have fallen upon her hands. " Though I kin do it myself when I hev to," she concluded in audible comment, " an' 'twasn't nothin' 'fore I took this miz'ry in the spine of my back." " Can we reach there in time ? " asked Nelson, still with visions of eastern weddings flitting through her brain, and with an idea that the promised guide still had a toilet to make.

The bright eyes under the grey brows flashed a look of grim humour upon her. " Oh, we 'ns air bound to be in time. I reckon thar can't be no marryin' 'fore the Parson gits thar." With this view of the case she moved about composedly, though by no means slowly, arranging her few domestic affairs. Nelson had leisure to look about her — at the long, low room, tolerably clean despite its rude furnishings, at the fowling-pieces on the wall, the bunches of herbs depending from the rafters, the skins drying at the door. She had begun to wonder what could be the meaning of the short stick which protruded from the old woman's mouth, " exactly matching her face in colour, and looking almost like a stem to the hickory nut," the girl decided; when it was removed, thrust into a box that stood on the high mantel, and then, with an end of it still in her hand, its owner suddenly turned upon Nelson with a question — " I reckon yer don't scrub ?

" The grey eyes of the visitor opened wide in bewilderment. Was she really so travel-stained as to suggest the need of a bath ? or did the old woman want some help in putting her house in order ? "Dip, I mean," answered Mrs. Slocum, seeing her perplexity. " I reckon you 'ns don't never dip 1 " UA Kinder Weddin" 17 " Oh, — immerse ? " began Nelson faintly, with a glance at her brother to see whether he understood his denominational proclivities to be called in question. " Sakes, no ! I mean snuff," said Mrs. Slocum, growing explicit in the presence of such ignorance. " Some calls it scrubbin' snuff, and some calls it dippin' snuff, but it's all one. Don't ? Well, some folks don't, but we 'ns is mos'ly ravenish fer it." And she deposited a ladle full of the brown dust, ladle and all, in her mouth.

Then she vanished through a low doorway into an inner room. But the young guest, who had expected to await a protracted toilet, was disappointed; for she speedily reappeared, arrayed in a black shawl and slat bonnet, with a faded green calico skirt fastened over her dress for a riding-habit. Over her arm hung another limp skirt, which had lost through many washings all resemblance to its original colour, and this she offered to Nelson. " 'Tain't noways fancy, but I reckon it'll save yer gownd." Nelson gravely donned the garment, and as demurely mounted her steed ; but when the cavalcade was fully under way, with the slat bonnet and flapping green calico a trifle in advance, she flashed back a mischievous glance at the reverend brother on foot, and sang a couplet heard at a camp-meeting years before — " If you get there before I do, Oh, tell 'em that I'm coming too !

" The horse in front slackened its pace a little, the bonnet was pushed back from the white hair, and the dark eyes bent a searching but not unkindly glance upon the fair face opposite them. " I reckon them words don't mean much to ye, child ? Thar's a pow'rful sight o' meanin' fer me, — words I says to kinfolks up yon," and she pointed skyward with one ungloved hand. " ' I'm comin' too,' sorter chirks me up. Sometimes 'pears like I'd never git thar." The last sentence was soliloquy evidently, and ended in a sigh. Nelson stole a furtive glance at her in the silence that followed, and recognised for a moment the common humanity — weary, burdened, aspiring ■ — ■ that was quite distinct from all accidents of dress and surroundings. The two miles which Mrs. Slocum had mentioned as a trifling distance seemed rather long ones to the other members of the party, but they were traversed in safety.

The number of horses, mules, and carts fastened to a straggling fence announced their destina tion, and indicated what the guide called " a pow'rful smart getherin'." It was evident that at least one of the new-comers had been eagerly expected, for, as they appeared, some loungers near the fence raised a cry. " He's comin' ! Tell Ar'minty the Parson's comin' ! " Other voices nearer the door took up the call with variations. " Yere's the Parson ! Tell Bill to yank hisself inter that bes' coat ! " The house, to Nelson's surprise, differed little from the one she had lately left, except that it was somewhat larger, its logs more weather-beaten, and its outside chimney surmounted by a barrel. She had no leisure for observing externals, however, for she had scarcely dismounted before hospitable hands hurried her horse away, and the throng of outsiders closed around her and her party, and fairly crowded them into the house.

A motley assemblage it was. There were men in their shirt-sleeves, men with pantaloons tucked into the tops of heavy boots, women in slat bonnets, girls with a wondrous display of gilt earrings, and not a few bare footed children. In most cases there had been some attempt at gala attire, but the bride elect was easily distinguished by her stiffly-starched pink gingham and narrow blue sash. She was in an inner room, sitting on the side of a bed which, apparently, was expected to serve as a divan for as many as chose to occupy it. A number of the young friends of the bride were with her, and their nudges and remarks kept her in a con stant titter, which provoked periodic reproof from her mother. " Ef I was goin' to get merried, Ar'minty, I'd b'have an' git merried ; I wouldn't be so miser'ble triflin'."

But the " triflin' " continued with unabated vigour, and reached its climax when a sound of steps in the unfinished loft above, followed by a pair of gigantic feet upon the ladder, announced the approach of the bridegroom, who had been putting the finishing touches to his toilet. He had not been eminently successful, however, for when half-way down the ladder some part of the unfamiliar finery gave way, and with an explosive exclamation regarding a " busted button," he scuttled aloft once more amid the shouts of the onlookers. Araminta's friends began their delicate raillery again. " He's skeered, Ar'minty, that's what's the matter of him ! He don't dast to come down ! " The poor girl's giggles and blushes and asseverations that she " didn't keer " aroused the solemn-faced matron to another protest that she wouldn't be " so redic'lous triflin'."

Then she raised her voice in warning to the occupant of the dressing-room above — " Be keerful 'bout trompin' on that thar short board, Bill." If her caution was heard, it was speedily forgotten in the exigencies of the occasion ; for after a brief interval, in which his heavy tread could be heard as he moved to and fro, there was a sudden clatter of boards, a shriek from the girls in the back room, and the groom had descended without the aid of a ladder Fortunately, the short board had been directly over the bed, and the fall wrought no more serious results than a little additional confusion. After the luckless groom had been rescued from among the quilts and pillows, he announced himself ready for the business in hand. " Come on, Ar'minty ; 'tain't nothin' ter be skeered of," he observed encouragingly.

And after much persuasion, some pushing, and a final admonition from her mother, — " Ef I was goin' ter git merried, I'd git merried," — Araminta was induced to take her place, and the brief ceremony was concluded. Then the hilarity waxed high. Nelson, from the quiet corner where she had been first ensconced, watched proceedings with interest. Her few attempts at conversation had been, in truth, rather noticeably condescending, and she had been for the most part left to herself, greatly to her own satisfaction. She was storing up items for future rehearsal; but the light in her eyes and the curve of her lips told her thoughts more plainly than she was aware. One at least read them. A frank, manly face, browned by sun and wind, was turned toward her with an expression half amused, half regretful.

Its owner, Cade Barrow, had been watching her almost unconsciously. " With that look and that feeling back of it, she will undo all the sermons her brother can preach in this region, if she makes no more mischief. I wish I dared tell her so ! " he thought. Possibly his desire was not so philanthropic as he imagined, for there was a fascination in the graceful poise of the brown head, the droop of the long lashes, and the contour of cheek and throat, that constantly drew his gaze back to them. His eyes presently attracted hers by some mysterious magnetism, and involuntarily she flashed upon him a glance full of mirth at the scene before her, and received a keenly appreciative one in return. But this ocular telegraphy was resented the moment it was accomplished, and her face grew grave and cold.

She had been " made 'quainted," in the phraseology of her hostess, with " Mr. Barrow, the boss of that there new track what's layin' up yere," — whatever that might mean, — but she had noticed that he made himself comfortably at home in this, to her, astonishing assembly ; that he greeted genially all who chanced to be near him ; and that his workmen familiarly called him by his first name. :' Besides, he is merely one of these people, or why would he care to be here ? " she reasoned, ignoring with lofty inconsistency the fact that she was there herself. So it happened that when, a little later, chance or his own inclination brought Mr. Barrow near her, Nelson was only frigidly courteous, and her replies were so exceedingly brief that she was speedily left to her own devices again. The defeated party retired in good order, however, — rather too calmly and easily for one of his class, Nelson thought, — and her cheek flushed at the scarcely perceptible lifting of his eyebrows, and a flitting smile which the dark moustache did not quite conceal.

" He's good, he is," said a timid voice at her side. Nelson turned quickly, but all haughtiness vanished at sight of the speaker, a little hunchbacked girl with a pale face, shy and sweet, that drooped flower-like under the gaze it had attracted. Nelson could but smile down upon it, and ask gently — " Who is good ? " " The boss — him what talked to ye ; he's mighty good to me." It was a strong argument in his favour. Nelson looked after the well-knit, square - shouldered figure disappearing in the crowd, before she answered — " I should think everyone would be good to a little girl like you." " Ye - s." There was a doubtful note in the slow assent, a wistful questioning in her face, as if already life had held problems that perplexed her. " They don't be like him, though. He kerries me places, an' he won't let nobody tech me.

I'll be pow'rful sorry ef they gits him 'way from yere. He ain't skeered of nobody, not if they've been a-drinkin'. Do you be skeered of drunk folks?" A shiver ran through the childish frame as if at some dread memory. What dark experience had her few years known ? Nelson wondered. She tried to suggest a less painful topic. " Why do you think Mr. Barrow will go away ? " " I dunno ; mebby he won't." The child hesitated, and lowered her voice as she added, " I 'low we 'ns don' want no railroad up yere. They says they'll drive 'em out ; they fights his men, Slocums an' some of 'em." She looked about her uneasily, as if to see who might be within hearing, and concluded more hopefully — " He don't be skeered." " But why don't the people want a railroad ? " asked Nelson. This wild and benighted corner of a great State seemed strange and pitiable enough, but that the people should really try to bar out civilisation when it knocks at their doors was amazing.

The little hunchback's brown eyes were lifted with a quick, startled look, as if she feared some covert design might lurk behind the question, but a moment's scrutiny seemed to satisfy her, though her answer appeared to Nelson wholly irrelevant — " You 'ns don't be like we 'ns." But her eyes, as they lingeringly surveyed the fair face and soft, tasteful dress of the stranger, betrayed an admiration so nearly worshipful that her words were scarcely noticed. Nelson smiled into the uplifted face, and said — " You haven't told me your name." " Viney Crangel." " Nor where you live ? " pursued Nelson suggestively. " Up the run a piece — 'long of pap an' Dan. I ain't got no mother down yere. Granny Slocum says she 'lows I'll hev her when I git to heaven. I reckon you 'ns knows all about up yon ? " It seemed to the child, with her starved, beauty-loving soul, that the world from which Nelson came must surely be nearly akin to paradise, and a look of disappointment crossed her face as the young lady shook her head.

" I fear I do not live so near to that country as you think," said Nelson, with a sudden contrition born of the thought of what life in her world had really been. " I think you and I must learn to know each other better, Viney. Shall I come and see you some day ? " She expected the dark eyes to brighten with pleasure " 25 as they did for an instant, hut then the child looked troubled. " I — I don't know fer sure. Some time — mebby." Fortunately, a diversion was created by the announce ment of the host — " Dinner's ready, gentlemen and ladies ! Them as wants it had better come out inter the yard." There was an immediate rush, a deal of good-natured jostling and chaffing in the doorway, which, in their festive mood, quite convulsed Ar'minty and her com panions, and called from the mother a final reminder that " 'tain't sittin' fer a merried woman to be so continu'l triflin'," and then the room was cleared, so that Nelson and her brother found themselves able to view the " hospitable board."

It was literally a board, or rather boards, spread over an array of trestles in the yard, carefully propped to suit the inequality of the ground, and covered with muslin sheets. Whatever the table lacked in elegance, it held food in abundance — great pans of doughnuts, marvellous pies, " poun' cakes," breads, meats, and vegetables, numberless and nameless, all served at once. The guests, seated on long benches, chairs, up turned kegs, or anything that could be utilised as a seat, were cheerfully requested to " make a long arm " and help themselves. The careworn hostess had reserved a special place of honour for the minister and his sister at a comparatively secluded corner, and she pressed upon them all the viands of the table with a solemn hospitality so oppressive that The Parson '. Proxy 26 they were glad when the ordeal ended.