Quaker Jim

Chapter I

As the gentle cows slowly wended their way homeward, picking a bit of grass here and there, as the old cock cooed his mates to their perch and as the little lambs on the hill top bleated their farewell to the parting day, there was heard a fierce growl from “Old Shep,” the faithful house dog, which always gave a forewarning that something was approaching foreign to the place. Could Shep be mistaken? John Fox came out on the porch glanced hastily up and down the road, turned on his heel and walked back into the house. No, if Mr. Fox had been a little more careful in his observations he would have seen, as old Shep saw, a man approaching across the field for the Fox homestead. John Fox had hardly closed the door when Shep gave another growl. “Dad burn the plegged dog, what does he mean anyhow? I jest looked out thar an saw nuthin’.” “John ye’d better look agin, Shep hain’t growlin’ fer nuthin, maybe some uv them Kirt>y chaps air out thar fer somethin’.” “No it hain’t Mandy; ef it wuz he would’ent growl at ’em. Ole stray sow got in here I reckon. I wush the Squire would keep his poor hogs at home.” Another growl and Shep bounded off of the porch barking ferociously, bringing John Fox and Mandy, his wife, both to the door. “Why John it be a stranger, I never seed that man afore as I knows on.” “Some ’fernal ole peddler wants to pester the daylights outen ye.” O ! ef he be a peddler, I meas ter git several things I need bad, fer instance : hair pins, curlin’ irons, tea towels an spoons an they tell me they make a sartin kinder powder so that when ye put it on yer face ye look ten yar younger.

Maybe he’s got some uv that.” “Tut, tut, ye don’t more’n see one uv ’em swindlers in sight afore ye commence about this, that, an tuther, ef ye need these things go down ter the store an git ’em, they cheat ye enuf, without havin’ every scalawag in the country doin’ it.” By this time Shep had ceased to bark and now began to rear upon the stranger in great joy, for it was evident that Shep recognized him. Mandy and John did not understand this as no stranger was permitted to come in the yard while Shep was there. The man walked slowly to the porch, gently patting Shep on the head with his left hand while in his right he carried a stick thrown across his shoulder at the end of which was tied a bundle in a red handkerchief. The man looked to be about fifty years of age, rather short and flashy; his hair was very gray and long, his face smooth shaven, with a penetrating blue eye and a smile which invited confidence and made you his friend at once. He wore a dark suit of clothes, coat long, and a broad brimed hat, which made him have the appearance of a minister. He had a low clear voice and he used the dialect of a Quaker. The stranger knew Mandy and John at once but he was not recognized by them. “Good evening to thee, does Mr. Fox live here?” “Good evenin’. Yes Sir this be him, any ’ticular business?” “I heard at the village thee would let me stay a night with thee and as this is on my way, I thought if thee would permit me, it would be more comfortable than stopping at the village hotel.” “Wa’al I reckon ye could bunk here fer the night ef it suits ye, 1 don’t lack ’em hotels any too well myself, fer the time the skeeters an ’em other critters gits a square meal offen ye thar hain’t much time fer sleepin’. Grub hain’t any too fine here, though what ye git sticks ter yer ribs, and I guarantee agin skeeters.” “I will assure thee I will be much pleased regardless of the misquitoes even though they should be here.” “I reckon ye may as wells ter come in, time ye wash up a bit Sarah'll have supper ready an a little snack won’t do ye no harm.” “I hav’ent eat a thing since leaving Louisville this morning.” “Very well, jest come right in an make yerself ter home.”

John showed the way into the parlor, Mandy following behind the stranger scrutinizing every step and action. “Shorely ter grecous I seed that man afore, his step ’pears fermillar, his face looks a great deal lack Jim Fox’s. Tain’t him though, kays Jim’s been gone ten yars an nuthin’ ever been hear’n on him. John says he’s dead an I reckon he be an the ole Nick done got him long go. The thing I can’t bring clar ter my mind is Shep makin’ up wuth him so quick. Shep never done nuthin’ lack that to a strange critter afore in all his life time, an it makes it ’pear mouty ’sticious I kin tell ye.” Depositing his stick and bundle, John took the stranger to a little passage which separated the house proper from the kitchen where there was a bench on which sat the bucket and pan with the soap in a little box tacked to the door frame and the towel, mirror and comb hardby.

Was this the first time the visitor had been here? Many was the time he had washed his face at the same place, time and time again he had sat in the same passage on summer nights and played his violin, till Nellie Gray, then a little girl, fell to sleep and many a time he had pulled his gun off of its rack to take a hunt with old Shep. He glanced up to where it hung and there he found it just as he had left it ten years before. He could hardly refrain from taking it down and calling Shep, but no he could not do it for that would tell who he was, so he bathed his face and returned with John to the parlor.

Whilst John and his guest was in the passage Mandy hurried to the kitchen where Aunt Sarah, the faithful old darky, was hastily engaged in preparing supper. ‘'Sarah fer goodness sake put on another plate an cook a few more biscuits, thars a strange here fer supper an I b’live in my soul he knows more ’bout this place than he lets on. Take that red table cloth off an put on a white one, we don’t want him ter set at the table wuth that old thing fer I don’t spect he be ust ter it.” “What’s dat mans name Misses?” “I don’t know what his name be Sarah, John would’ent have gumption enuf ter ax him ef he never told, mout be some un ’em lords er dukes ye hear ’em talk so much about in the paper got out here an lost hissef. Indeed he talks awful queer. John says its bad manners ter ax a stranger his name,” continued Mandy, ‘‘but manners er no manners he’d hafter mozy out wuth his name an that purty quick ef I wuz a man.” “Why did’ent yo’ ax him Misses?” “That’s no question ter ax a lady its all tergether outen place fer a lady ter ax a stranger their name so soon arter seein’ ’em.” “Ain't it jest as bad fo’ a man as a woman?” “Why its the mans place ye ijot, less he tole it hissef. I would ’er ax him anyhow ef John could ’er held his tongue a few minutes stider let it run ’bout bugs an skeeters.” “Fo’ de laws sake Marse John knows dars no mo’ bugs on dem beds dan de is on his ole shirt, kays I scawleded eber slat in dem beds no longer den las’ spring.”

Aunt Sarah was almost as broad as she was long and her face black as her eyeballs were white. She was a very active old darky despite her sixty years of age and enormous size. She had been with the Fox family from infancy, her mother being a slave of John Fox’s father and grandfather. Thus she acted the sole mistress of the Fox homestead when John or Mandy was not present. Aunt Sarah was one of those old darkies who took great pride in the neatness of her house keeping and no one dare utter a word against it lest they fall a victim of her ever ready tongue, consequently when Mandy told her of John speaking of the misquitoes, and bugs, though he was innocent of accusing Sarah, nevertheless, it started her off like a wound up clock.

“I don’t see what ole Marse John wants to say dat fo’,” thus she soliloquized, “he’s always showin’ off fo’ strange folks, thinks he’s smart. If dars any chinches in dis house he brung ’em hyar, dats what he done, got ’em outen dat ole buggy he’s been flyin’ ’roun’ in fo’ he las’ twenty yars. I tole him fo’ to git a new one ten yars ago dat dar ole thing looks chinchy, but pshaw ! he won’t do it he’s too stingy fo’ to buy a suit uv clothes let alone a buggy. Well Sar, ever time I sees him in dat buggy an dat little ole gray hoss, I jes’ nearly splits my bofe sides, he! he! an dat suit uv clothes, well, it fits him ’bout like one uv dem curcus fellers George Washington took me to see one time. Don’t reckon I ever will fergit de time he come home from de weddin’ an got in the rain wid dat suit on, she war drawed up so tight I thought ole Marse neber would git it off. I hear’n him gruntin’ an puffin’ up dar an I thought I would jes’ die, eber time old Marse would pull, you could hyar sumpin’ tare then uv all the gruntin’ and cussin’, Oh My! Scat outen dar yo’ black rascal yo’ jes’ lack ole Marse always meddlin’ ’roun’ I’ll take a stick an break yo’ black back, dats what I’ll do.” Sarah would take her spite out on the cat or Shep whenever she got her temper up and this time the poor cat was the victim.

The Fox homestead was one of those old fashioned country homes with the large porch in front and the vines twining around its long standing posts, the front door led you into a hall which ran through the center of the house. The right front room was the parlor, while directly opposite was the family room. The house consisted of twelve large rooms, with six down stairs and six above, every room had its wide fire place and tall mantel which was very stylish at the time the house was built. The house set about one hundred yards off the pike leading to Springfield, on a little knoll, the drive way entering the place was shaded by beautiful oaks, that had been there long before any of the present occupants. The walk way from the pike to the house was of fine gravel with large pointed rocks put into the ground on either side. It likewise was shaded with majestic oaks with an occasional rose bush planted here and there to add beauty to its graceful course. The yard was kept pretty with a carpet of Kentucky’s famous blue grass, and was always kept in order by Old Teebe who took an especial interest in the lawn. The farm had been left to John and James with the understanding that Teebe, their father’s youngest brother, should always have a home with them. Now Teebe did’ent have a mind that would entitle him to a seat in the United States Senate, on the other hand, he in his childish simplicity told things as they appeared to him and would often embarrass the family very much when least expected. Just what he thought about you, out it would come making no difference whether good or bad; so Teebe was kept out of the company room when ever possible. He did the light work around the house, such as milking the cows, gathering the eggs, and getting the fire wood. Teebe was a great lover of flowers and he would work among them for hours if left undisturbed.

It was very seldom he was permitted to pursue his favorite occupation, for Aunt Sarah kept him in continual “hot water.” She naturally had a dislike for him and on every occasion she had a chance to start a quarrel she was sure to take advantage of the opportunity. It was sometimes amusing to hear Teebe and Sarah into one of their spats. Teebe had a long whining voice that was’ent much above a whisper, while you could hear Sarah for quite a distance if she cared to let herself out.

John Fox or “Uncle Snort,” as he preferred to be called, was a large man weighing about two hundred and twenty pounds. Tall and slightly stooped shouldered with gray hair and light complexion. Although the secret laughing stock of his neighbors, because of his much boasted bravery by himself, nevertheless, being the most wealthy man of his neighborhood and of a very charitable disposition his opinions were always respected, except by Mandy, his wife, who was the sole mistress of the Fox household. It was with a story of his great bravery that we found him seemingly entertaining his visitor in the parlor. “What part uv the country did ye say ye come frum?” John asked the stranger. “I came here from Cincinnati, but my home is in Pennsylvania.” It made no difference whether he came from Africa or Indiana, Snort knew but little of any place except his immediate neighborhood so he promptly asked the question, “Any Injuns thar?” “No there are no Indians, the population is a mixed one but there are some classes working in the mines who are far worse than Indians.” “What sort uv people be they?” Snort asked. “Principally Pollocks some of whom are very nice people.” “They hain’t in it with Injuns kays I've seed both many times and had truck with ’em, an I kin tell ye I druther fight all uv Rooshie than one Injun, though I’m not sceared uv nuther one uv ’em furs that’s consarned, fer I reckon I’m ’bout the bravest man in these parts, least that’s what everybody says.” “If people talk of thy bravery thee must be a fearless man indeed. My bravery is not much boasted,” continued the visitor, “but if they crowd me too closely I can give them a splendid run either on pike or dirt road.” “Speakin’ ’bout Injuns,” Snort said, “when I was a poor boy I herded cattle out in the Injun Territory, an we would be gone fer months on ’em prairies without a house fer miles around er a shelter uv any kind ter pertect us frum the rain an winds an we hardly ever seed a human bein’ outside uv ourselves an rovin’ Injuns. So one night I was settin’ tliar by myself smokin’ my pipe an thinkin’ uv my folks in 'Ole Kentuck’ when I hearn a kinder uv a mutterin’ that I could’ent quite make out. I looked fust one side then tuther but could’ent see har ner hide uv nuthin’. Fust thing ye know I hearn ’em go hoof ! hoof ! oof ! I looks an thar wuz more’n a hundred Injuns chargin’ on me from the west, with their tomahawks glitterin’ in the moonlight an their teeth chatterin’ lack a wild cat fightin’. The boys had all gone ter a dance an thar I wuz by myself with nuthin’ ter hep me. 1 had my pistol, but bein’ so fergitful anyhow, I did’ent know what io Quaker Jim

on earth ter do. Bein’ naturally witty, I thinks uv a stratergem. I jest let ’em come purty close ter me an when they got in about ten steps, what do ye think I done?” “I could’ent say, though thee did run I am sure.” “No Saree I jest fell down on my knees an hands an commenced ter growl lack a bar.” “What did the Indians do?” “Wa’al Sar they tucked their feathers an skitted across ’em prairies lack so many whopped dogs an when the boys come back frum the dance, they said it wuz the greatest trick they ever hear’n tell on ter rid Injuns, so they took me over ter the tavern an we all had a drink uv the best stuff in the house.” “Well I declare, that is first rate,” said the stranger. “Say there was’ent a house for miles?” “No Saree, thar wuz’ent as much as a hornets nest let alone a house.” “Did thee not say thee walked over to a tavern and got a drink?” John scratched his head and gave a simple grin. “Wa’al ye don’t seem ter understand much ’bout prairies I kin see that very plain. The tavern wuz ter the north uv the plains I wuz speakin’ ’bout the south, east and west, not the north, moreover, I kin prove it wuz ter the north kays ye very seldom see a saloon ter the south uv a prairie on the account uv the tremenjus heat an cyclones, er on the east on the account uv the hot mornin’ sun absorbin’ all the liquors an wastin’ it as rain, er on the west on the same account uv the evenin’ sun because ye kin always notice when the sun’s goin’ down at night it gits much bigger an consequently has a good deal more power, ’specially out thar kays that place is closer ter the sun than we be.” Here ii

John gave what he thought a good example of the powers of the sun. “Jest lack a little baby when lie’s born he hain’t very strong is he? but when he gits older he’s a little stronger, an when he gits ter be a man he has his full strength hain’t he?” “Yes.” “Wa’al it’s the same thing with the sun an that’s why they always set the tavern ter the north don't yer see?” “Thee said they did not put them to the south because of cyclones, don’t thee think the cyclone could sweep across the prairie and destroy the tavern?” “My poor foolish man don't yer know that all cyclones comes direct by way uv the southwest an don’t ye know the time it gits across the prairie the hills an trees has got it all broke up?” After this explanation our friend gave it up it was evident to him that Snort was still handy telling stories and giving examples, so he simply said: “I really never thought of that.”

John was congratulating himself on his wit when Old Teebe who was out in the hall listening to the conversation came walking slowly into the room. He advanced to the visitor and viewed him from head to foot, finally he said : “Do ye

b’live what Snort tole ye be true ?” “I have no right to contradict him.” “Ye be a stranger ’roun’ here ain’t ye?” “Yes I am a stranger.” “Whar did ye come frum?” “Pennsylvania.” “Whar be that?” “In the East.” “Be the people thar very smart?” “Some are and some are not.” “Wa’al air ye very bright?” “I have seen a great many more intelligent,” the visitor said with a smile. “I jest wanted ter tell ye,” said Teebe, “I hearn Snort talkin’ ter ye ’bout fightin’

Injuns, now that be a mistaken he never wuz over a hundred miles away frum here in all his life time, an I know the Injun spot he’s talkin’ about must be at least a million an ’sides he won’t fight no how, Kays Bill Jones got atter him ’bout a ole cow month or so ago an Snort jumped in his buggy an jest flew home an he ain’t passed Bill's house sence ner hain’t agoin’ ter nuther.” When Teebe told this he left the room as he entered, leaving Snort in a fit of anger, and the stranger with all he could do to keep from laughing for how well he knew Teebe spoke the truth. John’s anger abated and the veins in his neck became normal, he told the man not to pay any attention to Teebe, that he was getting old and childish and he “wuz’ent very pwert anyhow,” as Snort termed it. The gentleman assured Snort he took no notice of what Teebe said, but merely pretended to be interested to please the old fellow. Snort was preparing to burst forth into another glowing tale of his bravery, when Mandy yelled at the top of her voice to “come to supper” much to the delight of the visitor who could have enjoyed a good meal much better than all the Indian tales Snort could have told in a life time. John showed the way through the wide hall and across the passage into the dining room. The blessing being over and likewise a dozen excuses from Mandy “not bein’ prepared” our friend fell to and ate a hearty meal so much so that Aunt Sarah who waited on the table declared, “she b’lived in her soul clat man jest got outen jail fo’ bof’ uv her hands war plum stiff frum handin’ victuals.”

Supper being served rather late they all retired shortly after. The stranger was shown to a back room up stairs and John told him that was his brother’s room when he stayed home. “Where is thy brother now Mr. Fox?” the visitor asked. “Lord only knows, I don’t, we had a little trouble, he left, and we ain’t hearn uv him since.” The stranger changed the subject by complaining of being tired and worn out. John pulled a bottle from the bureau drawer offering the man a drink, after he had indulged himself, but which he very politely refused. John placed the bottle back in its place, telling the gentleman not to mention it to his wife and bade him good night.

Chapter II

In a depot of New Orleans one night, there was seated an elderly looking gentleman supposedly interested in an afternoon paper. Directly in the rear of him were two young men. One looked to be about twenty-three years of age while the other was twenty-five or six The younger, a tall black haired handsome fellow, was telling the other of a trip to Kentucky he was preparing to take. “So you are going Leslie?” the senior gentleman said. “Yes, I intend to start to-morrow Bert. I don’t care what may happen, I am going and I will get some satisfaction for the mistreatment James Gray heaped upon me,” spoke the younger of the two. “Don’t you know James Gray is not in Kentucky, he is an officer, my dear boy, in the Navy and lie is as liable to be in China as any other place.” “I will get it out of his sister, at any rate.” “What good would that do you Leslie, to take revenge upon his sister who never harmed you?” “Just because the humiliation he caused me at college is too much to bear, it calls for satisfaction and I will have it or my name is not Leslie Bragge.” “How are you to get it from her?” “I am going up there and stop at a man’s house by the name of Kirby, he lives adjoining farms to this girl, I have written to the old fellow stating my health is not good and upon the advice of my physician I must go for a while to a cooler climate, and upon his advice I am going to Kentucky to regain my lost health — but not lost health Bert — -I am going to marry Miss Gray and humiliate her in every way I can and finally leave her and Mr. James to ponder over their enemies deed.” “Won’t she know you are her brother’s enemy?” “I have planned that long ago.” “How is that Leslie?” “I met her and Kirby at the commencement last spring and was introduced to them by the name of Henry Alten, so they don’t know my right name or they never will until 1 have left them.” “Suppose old man she won’t have you?” “Oh! I can mange that all right. You see she lives with an Aunt who is about a half idiot, a friend from up there told me so. I will get on the good side of her and things will sail smoothly for Mr. Alten.” “Maybe that fellow will tell them who you are?” “No he won’t because he left that place and moved to New Y r ork.” The two arose to go. Bert wished him success at the same time cautioned him to be very careful lest he get in trouble for he said: “Leslie you never know those

Kentuckians and if you think you have crazy people to deal with you are sadly mistaken.”

So you Mr. Bragge are going to try to wreck the life of Nellie Gray because her brother told the truth on you when you tried to get the honor of being the captain of the football team by crippling a fellow classmate because he was your master in the sport. You were expelled from college for it and now you i6 seek revenge upon a man’s weak sister whom you are afraid to meet face to face. Will you carry out your revenge? The pleasant looking old gentleman seated before you is not so deeply interested in the paper he holds before him as he appears; on the contrary, he is drinking bitterly every word you utter and every word you say is a pang to his good heart, because you are planning evil to his dead and only sister’s child, and because you are planning to take from that child the happiness and good name given her by one of the most noble women that ever put foot on Kentucky’s soil. Your ship of destruction may not sail so smoothly over that sea of revenge for like a bolt of lightning from a clear sky your ship will be destroyed and your bounty lost, then you will remember the gentleman who sat before you on that night of your highest ambitions in the depot at New Oleans.

After Bragge and his friend had gone from the depot James Fox arose and immediately went to his hotel. Fie walked hastily to his room, threw himself upon a chair, buried his face in his hands. There he sat, he knew not how long, for there was vision after vision arising before him. Fie saw his dear little Niece as an infant sitting on a fond mother’s knee, he saw her at the death bed of her mother make a solemn promise never to do a dishonorable act either before God or man. He saw her after that mother had passed into eternity, night after night, on her knees begging a good God not to let her fall into harm or disgrace, and now he sees the very man who is on the verge of departing to wrest from her the honor and good name that is so near and dear to every woman in this world. Rising to his feet he walked up and down the floor thinking of this loved one far away. “This is too much to bear. Forced to leave my home because of the unbearable disposition of my brother’s wife, forced I say to wander around the country from place to place with no where I can call home, and now to see my Niece whom I think more of than anyone, brought into this terrible man’s hands. No, no, I cannot bear it longer, I will go back to Kentucky and protect her like a man and Leslie Bragge or Henry Alten as you see fit to call yourself, if you do that poor innocent girl one bit of harm I will make you wish you had never seen a college or a football game in all your life. But I cannot return home. Mandy and I could not agree, besides she told me 1 could never stay there again for she would have nothing more to do with me as long as she lived.” A happy thought passed through James’ mind. “Couldn’t I return and reconcile her by showing her what this man is? I can at least try and that is what I shall do. Though I cannot let them know me for a while, because I am satisfied Mandy will take to this fellow Bragge at sight and all I could tell her about him would amount to naught unless she actually saw it or I made him acknowledge his purpose before her, that is what I am bound to do, and being in the defense of a just cause i8 Quaker Jim

I feel sure Divine Providence will find a way for me to show Mandy what Bragge really is before he gets revenge upon James Gray’s sister. How can I stay there without being known?” Accidentally glancing in a mirror, his eyes rested upon his silvery locks. “When I left home my hair was jet black, not a wrinkle was in my face, today my hair is white and my face shows what I have gone through in ten long and lonesome years. They will not recognize me. Not even Possum Boone, the Constable, as shrewd a man as he thinks himself to be. I must use some other manner of speech though. Let me see, I can’t speak broken English like a German, neither can I use the Irish brogue. Oh, yes, when I was in Pennsylvania some years ago I met a crowd of Quakers, they talk plainly except they use thee, thy and thine, at any rate I will do my best and if I don’t use the dialect properly they will never know the diffrence. So I shall just be Mr. James Pent until such time I may be able to let Mandy and Mr. Bragge know who I am. They say a Quaker never leaves his own settlement but they who know anything about them will think I am a stray sheep and gotten out of the fold and in case they do find me out there is one consideration, I know Nellie will take my advice about Bragge and she will assist me in trying to reconcile Mandy’s disposition and try to bring her back like the Mandy she once was.” The next morning found James on his way to his old home and while he would liked to have returned and be greeted by his brother, still he knew it was best to go as a stranger, and this is the Quaker resting in John Fox’s house tonight.