Back Aa

Mothering on Perilous

Close

<h2><abbr title="Twenty-Eight">XXVIII</abbr> "KEEPS"</h2> <h3>Tuesday.</h3> Going to the village on an errand after breakfast, when I reached the deep mudholes where we always have to walk the fence some distance, I was delighted to see a gang of men at work on the road, and to recognize in them Blant and the other prisoners. They were picking the shale from the mountain side, and shovelling it into the bottomless holes, and all, save Blant, were hilariously happy to be out in the spring sunshine and fresh air, and talked gaily with me and other passers-by, the keeper, who leaned on his rifle, entering amiably into the conversation. He says that every spring the prisoners are brought out to work on the roads,—that it does them good, and the county too. I had not seen Blant for quite a while. It seemed to me that the sadness and sternness of his face were a little relaxed, and I rejoiced to know that time was doing something toward making his sorrow for Rich less poignant. I hope that the news I had Saturday about the babe,—that it is nothing but a feather, and must soon blow away—has not reached him. <h3>Wednesday Night.</h3> For two days the boys, especially Nucky, have made every excuse to run down the road and exchange words with the road-gang, who continue to work toward us. These frequent glimpses of Blant seem to maintain Nucky's spirits at the same high pitch manifested Sunday. While I am in the lowest depths over losing him in three more days, and while it seems to me his grief over Blant's trial and probable departure for Frankfort next week, and the almost certain loss of the babe, should hang more heavily than ever upon him, he is out shouting at marbles, or chasing the other boys about,—indeed, I never saw him in such spirits. <h3>Thursday Night.</h3> Nucky brought in word to-day that the mudholes are nearly filled, and the prisoners <ins title="Transcriber's Note: The original was missing the verb 'are'">are</ins> preparing to-morrow to blast out rock and widen the road at the narrow place where our school-grounds begin. What was my pained astonishment when, in the afternoon, the heads sent for me and said, "We have just heard down in the village that this school is a notorious gambling-place; that the boys do nothing but play keeps; and that some of yours are the ringleaders." After supper I called the twelve around the sitting-room table, and laid the matter before them. "To think," I said, "that you could deceive me in this way, and play this game for more than six weeks when you have been told over and over that all gambling is forbidden here! Now, are you all guilty, or is there by chance one who has had the self-respect and moral courage not to play?" All heads hung limp except Geordie's. Both his head and his hand went up. "I never," he said, "I haint toch my hand to a game of keeps this whole school." "Thank heaven," I said, surprised but grateful. But Taulbee was slowly rising in his chair, eyes glued on Geordie, finger pointing. "'F you never played no keeps, where'd you git all them marvles you been a-selling us right along?" he demanded. "I made 'em," replied Geordie. "I know you made 'em at first, in that mill we broke up for you under the stable-lot fence. But you sold all them out the first week,—I seed you sell the last. Where'd you get t'others you been selling sence? I bought four sets off of you, and Philip six, and Killis and Keats about nine apiece, and Jason I reckon a dozen, and all the rest of the boys and the day-schools has been running to you a month, and sweating to get money to pay you for marvles. Where'd they come from?" "Did you ever see me play ary keep this school?" inquired Geordie. "Don't know as I did; but I seed you hangin' round all the time." Geordie turned to Philip: "Didn't you see me git beat every time I played last summer?" he inquired. "Yes, I did," replied Philip. "Well, I haint played no more keeps sence. I know I can't play, and I haint fool enough to throw away good marvles." Convinced but not satisfied, Taulbee frowned darkly. "Well, dad burn your looks, where'd you git all them marvles you been selling this spring," he demanded, "they never growed on trees." The finger was no longer pointing, it was doubled up in a fist under Geordie's nose. <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/image23th.png" width-obs="182" height-obs="302" alt="Taulbee holding a fist under Geordie's nose. Nine other boys and Miss Loring are gathered around the table, interested in what Geordie has to say." title="'Well, dad burn your looks, where'd you git all them marvles you been selling?'" /> <q class="caption">'Well, dad burn your looks, where'd you git all them marvles you been selling?'</q></div> At last came the hesitating, reluctant answer: "Me'n' Lige Munn and Harl Drake and Benoni Somers went pardners." "You put up the marvles and them the fingers?" "Yes, and they's the best players in school, and allus cleans out t'other boys; and I'm right smart of a good trader, and git a better price than they could; so they puts in all their time a-winning, and turns all the marvles over to me to sell; and then I git the halves on every marvle." "And then you set up and tell her you haint played nary keep this school?" "I haint never played none," reaffirmed Geordie, in conscious innocence; "I never toch my hand to nary keep this whole school!" The whites of Taulbee's eyes were now red; he ground his teeth. "Dad swinge your ole grave-robber soul, I aim to kill you dead," he shouted, leaping across the table, and followed by every boy but Absalom in the direction of the unfortunate Geordie. It was ten minutes before I, with the assistance of Absalom and a broomstick, rescued a torn and bleeding victim from the howling, threshing mass under which he was buried, and sent for the trained nurse. I have sat here to-night wondering at the light my acquaintance with Geordie has shed upon the vexed questions of accumulation of capital, formation of trusts, cornering of markets, dealings in futures, and, last but not least, the perfect compatibility of sharp-practice and law-breaking with sincere piety and philanthropy. But alas, these are only surface thoughts,—deep in my heart is the sharp knowledge that to-morrow I must lose Nucky, and that he cares very little that he must go and leave me. <hr /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

1 of 2

2 of 2