XXII The Letter from Lon

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.

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!”