The Quare Women by Lucy Furman

The Quare Women by Lucy Furman

Author:Lucy Furman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The University Press of Kentucky
Published: 2019-10-15T00:00:00+00:00


VI

Devil’s Ditties

THE day following the widow-man’s disastrous visit to the women on the hill, Aunt Ailsie came in, as she had planned, to get her first taste of learning. She had also planned, of course, to bring Jeems in and engineer his courting; and her disappointment was keen as she rode along on old Darb, meditating pensively upon the tragedy of the day before.

“They throwed away as good a chanct as ary old maid could look to have, and all because not a single one of ’em was able to milk a cow. I’m clean out of heart, and hain’t aiming to trouble my mind to hunt up nary ’nother husband for ’em. Hit would n’t be no use if I did, there not being a living man in this country would marry a woman that can’t milk. May be that’s the reason they hain’t kotched ’em a man down in the level land.”

Before Aunt Ailsie reached the tents on the hill, she saw her “pieded” heifer picking around up near the timber line, and sighed deeply.

“Pore creetur, I’d never a-lent you to ’em if I had knowed; hit’ll be your ruination having that air little Billy Lee feisting round you.”

When she reached the tents, the cooking class was over, as was also the sewing lesson, and the singing was just beginning in the largest tent, where even more young folks than usual were gathered.

Amy was playing the baby organ, but Virginia, who stood near her, straightening up the book-shelves, saw Aunt Ailsie and beckoned for her. As she approached the two, she sighed deeply again.

“Pore gals, they don’t know what they missed yesterday; they don’t know how nigh they come to being tuck off the cull-list!”

Her attention was immediately drawn from them to the newcomer of whom Fult had spoken the day before—a lovely young girl who led the singing, and sang as spontaneously and joyously as a mocking-bird, and whose example was contagious, for the more timid young people, who had sung haltingly before, now poured their whole souls into the delight of it. Fult’s voice was the best among the young men, and blended well with that of the new singer.

Aunt Ailsie sat down on a bench and listened, somewhat critically, for half an hour. “Fulty was right,” she said to herself then, “she can outsing me when I was a young gal. But I misdoubt if she knows as many song-ballats as I knowed.”

There was so much enthusiasm that the usual half-hour of singing lengthened into an hour, and was ended only by the ringing of the dinner-bell below.

“We’re so glad you came,” said Amy, as the two started down the hill; “we want to tell you how very grateful we are for the cow.”

“Yes,” said Virginia, joining them; “nothing could be a greater blessing to us.”

“I heared not nary one of you was able to milk her,” said Aunt Ailsie; and she could not keep all reproach out of her voice.

“No, but Billy Lee can,



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