Sharp County record., 1881-03-24
You don't know what

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could she not see!-that he was very i'll, and
weak ami nervous; aud he seemed to guess
her thought, for in the next breath he said
81 don't mean the sicliness;n and then, point
ing finger in the direction of the mother and
child, he added: That's my baby, yender
'Cindy.n
He waited for her to reply; he loOkedup into
her face implOringly, but she said not word.
Surely she had heard him; did she not under
stand| He waited moment longer. Then
he glanced again at her face, again pointed to
the mother and child, and suddenly, with woe
begone but blunt and cruel force, exclaimed:
"'Cindy, I-rve-got another wife"
She did not scream, poor woman, nor faint
nor stir. The voice of the child broke the still
ness, at length, with quick, impatient call,
like the chirp of hungry bird. And then
Aunt 'Cindy carefully released her arm from
about his neck and turned her head away, and
hid her face with her hands and sobbed:
80, Aaron, Aaron, AarOnW
The sight was not one for strange or accl-
dental eyes and We retired, my companion and
|. to respectful distance. What more was
said we could not know, but they conversed
there to Eether for several minutes, the three
of them-not angrily nor loudly but very ear
neStly-andtwo or three times we detected the
shrill voice of the child's mother above the
Others, as if in special entreaty. Our hearts
involuntarily went out to Aunt 'Cinda, and
set there was the shrinking mother with her
babe, and there was the SOrely beset and help
less Aaron, also. The stars glittered sharply
but coldly; the advancing night made the
landscape sinister and spectral. we did not
notice the sick man get out of the wagon, but
presently he came moving towardus. On either
side of him walked one of the women, sup
porting him-and Aunt 'Cnda carried the
child. 1t was group that Millet would have
liked to paint; it seemed a blended part
of the grotesque and tluctuating shad-
ows. Their talk had ceased. Their
thoughts we could not catch, of course. But
as they drew nigh us, they halted; and in an
anxious, coaXing tone, Aaron said: " Kemem-
ber, though, that one or t'Other of you must
90 on with me tomorrow The women gave
their assent, we inferred, for he added, as II in
answer, "That's bracin'." Then they re-
sumed their way, in silence again, and slowly;
and looking after them, we saw them reach
the cabin and enter at the open door-Iust as
the stage came rafting up, an hour late,
crowded with passengers.
The supper was delayed that night but its
quality made ample amends. We had never
before seen Aunt 'Cinda's table so lnvitlng1y
spread, particularly as to canned fruits and
unsuspected tumbers Of jelly and preserves;
and there was buttered toast, too, and Jumps
of Old-time loaf sugar for the coffee One
guest said the feast was good enough for a
wcddng-at which Aunt 'Cinda colored, and
sighed forlornly, and they all laughed. All,
they did not guess how that suggestive word
wounded her But Aaron was not to be seen,
nor the woman with the baby; they had eaten
by themselves, before we were called, as was
proper ana were waiting for Aunt 'Cinda in
''the extry room," as she had named it, the
room so long sacredly kept for Aaron'S coming.
And so the merriment around the table went
on unchecked. The guests were blameless, 10
be sure; nevertheless, their jokes and laugh
ter were eXasperating; their very presence
had the effect of an intrusion. We .felt su-
preme relief, know, when it was over at last
and the stage had departed, and the secret
was safe; and then we ventured to inquire
after the sick man, and to tender our services
should he need or desire them.
"He's weakern he lets on" Aunt 'Cinda
informed us, "an' he don't pear to have no
appetite. felt so sorry for him, a-tryin so
hard to eat when he couldn't. 1t was sech a
nice supper, he said. | could "a cried to see
him a-lookin' so wishin at them picked tama-
tases-like l used to make 'em back yender.
| He is Aaron, you know" and she turned from
us, rather abruptly, we thought, and left the
| room.
We lit our pipes, and sauntered out to look
after our ponies. 1t had grown much darker.
We could not see the shallow, crawling river.
The wagon still stood by the roadside, the
loosed cover tapping like some great fateful
wing; the oxen were grazing cOntentedly q
few rods away. From the far-off mystery of
spaceand yagueness came an echo of coyote s
spiteful challenge. The daily yellow of the
| stone corral was subdued to the tone Of an
cient and crumbling ruins; for moment, we
felt as if we ought to find moss and vines
there. Our ponies lay reclined upon the trod-
den feeding ground, and did not so much as
prick up an ear when we talked to them and
patted them, with accustomed familiarity In
vain we tried to chat of pleasant things, OF
other scenes. The solitude would not be dis
turbed; and somehow the smoke from our
pipes, instead of floating upward, was waited
| back into our faces, and confused our sight.
When we returned to the.cabin, finally we
were surprised though not displeased, to
learn that Aaron was to share our sleeping
room. They had kindled a blaze for him in
the big Fireplace, and made him a generous
couch of blankets, clean and white with aston
ishing sheets and pillowslips, that were
full of deep creases, and must have
been a long time folded That bed
looked more like home than anything we
had seen for months, albeit there was no bed
|
barrassed in it; he would have rested better
we fancied, had they given himless of softness
and dantiness and brought him his frontiers
mans saddle with sheep-skin top for pill
! low: droll hint Of the kind came over his
| face, and gave it a downcast expression. We
aimed to avoid conversation with him, know
| ing how fatigued, unstrung and in need OF
sleep he was; but he talked in spite of us, and
regardless whether we responded or not. In.
deed, he seemed morbidly resolute to tell us OF
himself and his affairs-not as one reaching
out for pity, but rather as one offering an ex-
planation. We could not but listen.
81 was fool he said, frankly, i" but
meant right, an what a man means ort % be
sot down for him. 1t wasn't my fault lat |
didn't git along down ther' among the greas-
ers. Luck was ag'in me from the very jump.
Sometimes | axed myself if may be it wasn't
iedgment onto me; an may be it was-may
be it was. | was crazed to git rich you under
stand" And he paused to indulge mocking
smile.
"But meant all the time to go back, y he
continued, :" only wanted to git ahead first.
1t would IA groun me in an inch o. my life
to "a had 'em a-naggin' me all over Boone's
Lick about comm home dead broke after allmy
fine talk about gittin' rich. So jist hell on,
an KEEP a-sayin' to myself, 'Ole man, play
your ham out, trumps or no trumps.' Did |
think much about 'Cindy3 Well, rather cal
kilate my head was full of her. That was the
pizenest part of it." He hesitated a moment,
refectively, and then, " She don't know how
much hankered for her," he said, under his
breath.
"rll never git done despisin' myself
thought he resumed, "for not sendin' letters
to her. But | wasn't a-doin' bit % good an
l thought what was the use o. worryln herr
I'd orter "a sent letter anyhow; it