The Bennington banner. [volume] (Bennington, Vt.) 1858-1894, 1888-04-05
THE FERRY WOMAN.


together and married each other. Each
room had curious mud chimney built
outside and looking as il it might have
been a mud tower thrown up in the
night by some gigantic crayfish; also
each had door and window opening
with a wooden shutter that swung out
ward on hinges made OF old bits OF
leather, and when the shutter would be
closed, which was seldom, it was fasten.
ed by means of rough wooden button
that turned on a screw. The way these
two rooms had been brought together
was by means of plank porch, and be-
tween the two roofs the red and yellow
poles of young pine trees had been laid
evenly and neatly and matched over
with crisp dead pine needles. When the
wind blew or the pigeons walked over
this thatched roof, the needles knit
busily one against the other, giving out
shap little cracking noises that were
comfortable to listen to.
A few chickens picked about the porch
or cackled down in the straw under an
old shed in the corner of the lot, and an
old yellow COW grazed out on the bare
yellow hills. The hut and garden were
lIClObtu ny a lull lOllNCs anu III luO kai
den, under some plum trees, a few cab
bages and beets and onions were grow
ing.
The garden was pretty to look at, and
made one think, as a neat vegetable gar
den always makes one think of com
Portable country home. and midday
dinner of pink boiled bacon, golden corn
bread, and by way of relish plateful of
silvery onions, tender and crisp and with
such gay green tops.
All about were the forests with the
wind forever moaning in the tree tops,
the frogs forever croaking in the dark
hollows, the jly birds forever tap, tap
ping on the roIted trunks OF old dead
trees. Not another sign of human life
was visible, the little hut had no rivals
in this grand and lonesome domain.
An ugly, oily river, deep, dark and
still, flowed through the woods near the
hut, Its waters were bitter and black,
stained with steepings of millions OF
fallen rotted trees. Nothing was ever
seen floating on this rIver-no dead
leaves. nor logs of wood, nor carcass of
any drowned animal, and il was said
that such things would not float but
were always sucked down into the
quicksands.
Anyhow, be that as it may, the name
of the river was Wolf, and sometimes IN
the night. when storm came up and
water moiled by with bowling cry, the
little tow-headed children in the hut on
the bank would tuck their heads down
under the pink and white log cabin quilt
and cry out to each other with little
shivering thrills in their shril treble
voices that now the wolf was coming
after them for sure.
A road came out of the pine forest and
ran down through the shining white
sand to the brink of the river The sand
was so white hereabouts that the child
rem used To call it the VOLTS fangs. But
fangs are cruel and so this was not true,
for the sand was soft to lie in,and pleas
ant to play in, and to build grand castles
in, and to dig cool wells in, and above
all, graves for the little birds that died
Of old age out in the forest. The road
began again on the other side of the riv
er. and, like lonesome traveller who
might perhaps be way ylaid and murdered
when night came on, plunged off direct
y into dismal swamp where the trees
were hung with moss and where the
alligator holes were eight or ten feet
deep.
TO cross this river there was a ferry
and the woman who lived with her lit
tie children in the cabin on the bank
was the ferry woman. The ferry wac
only huge, flat bottomed raft. made OF
pine trees and planks. large enough to
carry an OK team loaded with cotton, OF
wool, or chickens, and the way the ferry
woman got the ferry over the river was
by pulling with all her might on rope
that was tied across stream from one
side to the other.
Sometimes at evening when the wo-
man sat in her porch scratching the lit
tie fat red back Of the youngest child
who had been playing in the forest and
was full of little red woodticks that hur.
rowed under the tender skin, she would
hear a wagon creaking along the road
1t had a cheerful sound, the body grOan-
ing, the rude wheels twisting noisily
with a wiry, rusty tweak in their unOil
ed sockets, and then she would roll the
child out of her lap and go down to the
ferry so as to be ready when the wagon
came up to ferry it over.
The driver would pass the time of day
with her. but rarely did she ask hun
what might be going on in town. She
took no interest in any life or goings. on
away from the hut by the ferry. When
he would be safely over, the traveller
would pay the ferry woman the fee ol
two bits, and his wagon would creak of
until lost in the forest. Sometimes ht
would look back at the row of bowleg
ged, pinkfrocked, towheaded children
standing in the white sand by the river,
or at the woman bending her back as
she strained heavily at her huge ferry.
pulling it back to shore. And the wagon
would go out of sight the creaking fade
away, falling off as if down hill into
silence.
Sometimes party Of hunters came
the ferry way, or the village doctor in
his buggy, or a tramp preacher who of
fered 10 mend her shoes if she would
ferry him over for nothing. Then the
woman would laugh and put out bare
foot, hard and solid and brown, bul
shapely and ask him how he could mend
that, but when she ferried him over she
would shake her head and take no fec
from him at all.
1t was generally supposed in the sparse
settlement down by the crossroads
store, and by the semi-Occasional travel
ere, that the womans husband wal
dead. Some time ago he had been want
ed by the sheriff, had disappeared, anC
then she took to ferrying, living on with
her young ones in the cabin, and If they
or any others asked any questions of thu
missing man she would say sharply anC
shortly, dead. Her cabin was clean. .sht
cut her own wood, the children tisheC
in the river and she worked her garden
MIXED her COW, ran the ferry when j
was needed, which was not more thai
two or three times a month, and some.
times sent her two Oldest children to tn,
crossroads store after meal, coffee, anC
little sugar. AS for herself she woulC
not leave the ferry. She watched it dal
and night IN an eager expectant wal
that was, perhaps, born Of her lonesom,
and unusual situation,
What a life was hers! A tall sallov
woman who worked in a garden anC
pulled OK wagons over a river in raj
ferry, who cut her own wood, and duI
her potatoes, who could neither read no
write, who lived on catfish and swee
potatoes, and knew nothing about tn
value of being refined and intellectual
But she was a good mother. She wa
like hen, scratching and picking TO
her young ones and sheltering them un
der her wings,or like COW staying clos
beside her weak and bleating calf, o
like gentle doe regarding with fon'
eyes her tlmid, hungry fawn. Oh, tn
mother is, or ought to be, beautiful
whether she is in brute's skin, under
robe of feathers, or whether she is in tn
image OF Mary kneeling in alteration be
fore her babe.
One. day the woman was down on he