. WOLFPEN
Harlan Haicher
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CHAPTER X—Continued
—12—
Then she heard his voice pitched
In the oratorical tones of the I’ike
vllle lawyers and reciting:
“ ‘All children born before matri
mony are bastards by our law: and
so it is of all children born so long
after the death of the husband,
that, by the usual course of gesta
tion, they could not be begotten by
him. But this being a matter of
some uncertainty, the law is not
exact as to a few days, forty weeks
being the time allowed. , .
“Now why in the world is Jesse
saying all that for up here in the
hollow with nobody around to hear
him but the mule and its drowsing
like a sleepy old Judge on a bench.
It must be Jesse’s law book.”
Jesse went on, stumbling over
the unusual words:
“ ‘But, if a man dies, and his
widow soon after marries again, and
a child is born within such a time,
as that by the course of nature it
might have been the child of either
husband; in this case he is said to
be more than ordinarily legitimate;
for he may, when he arrives to
years of discretion, choose which
of the fathers he pleases.’ ”
hhe could not see Jesse from
where she sat. What would he look
like in the role of orator? The im
pulse to lay eyes upon him over
came her. She went a little far
ther up the ridge overlooking the
hollow and climbed down the rock
behind a clump of redbud.
Jesse was standing under a pine
tree before a moss-covered rock
which had broken away from the
cliff. He held the yellow bound
Blackstone in his left hand, polnt
t Ing with his right forefinger at the
page, tapping it for emphasis, and
making his voice vibrate w'ith his
Imitation of a mountain lawyer cit
ing a point of law:
*“. . . restraints upon marriage,
especially among the lower classes,
are evidently detrimental to the
public by hindering the increase of
the people; and to religion and mo
rality, by encouraging licentious
ness and debauchery among the sin
gle of both sexes; and thereby de
stroying one end of society and
government, which is concubitu
prohibere vago.’ ”
She was fascinated by his zeal
and the reality of the performance,
but after he had halted In the pas
sage, stumbling seriously over the
Latin words, the illusion was bro
ken and she felt ashamed at the
thought of spying on Jesse from be
hind a bush and listening to some
thing not meant for her ears. She
would go down to him at once.
“But then he will see by my face
and the direction I come from that
I have been listening. I will go
back and come across the field.’’
She climbed back up the rock, and
went down the gully through the
cleared space to the plowed field,
and came down the young corn rows
approaching Jesse directly face to
face. He saw her coming, not dis
pleased.
“1 looked for you at the sweet
potato patch,” she snid as a greeting.
“I was Just giving the mule a
rest and I got to looking at the pic
ture of Blackstone here . .
He showed her the yellow-tinged
engraving of the enormous-appear
ing man, solid and legal behind the
ample contours of his ermine robe;
under the careful twistings of the
curled fleece wig stood out the
bushy black eyebrows, the big eyes
that had faced with the confidence
of knowledge and experience, judges
and juries.
"They wear runny clothes in kng
land,” Cynthia said.
He still kept his finger In the
page where he was reading.
"Have you read clear over there?”
“Well, not exactly. Only I got
tired of the chapters on the King’s
Titles, and the King’s Prerogative,
and his Revenue, and of the Clergy.
It didn't seein like it meant any
thing in this country. So I kind of
skipped to this part, 'Of Husband
and Wife’ and it’s right Interesting.
It says a man has to stand good
for his wife’s debts as long as she
buys necessary common supplies,
but not for anything besides nec
essaries.”
“Is that what law is?” Cynthia
asked.
“Well, that’s just one little part.
/ There are so many things here. It
' makes a body wonder if people
really do all the things this book
says they mustn’t do, and how many
people had to do an evil before a
law was made about it. It takes a
lot of study, and a man needs help
on some of it.”
“You’re going to read with Tandy
Morgan, Jesse?”
“That’s waat I aim to do this
fall.”
“We’ll have ready money, too, and
I can go to Pikeville, Mother says.”
“The book lays down law on that.
It says here, ‘The last duty of par
ents to their children is that of giv
ing them an education suituble to
their station in life; a duty point
ed out by reason, and of far the
greatest Importance of any. For
... It Is not easy to imagine or
allow, that a parent has conferred
any considerable benefit upon his
child by bringing him Into the
world; if he afterwards entirely
neglects his culture and education,
and suffers him to grow up like a
mere beast, to lead a life useless
to others and shameful to himself.’
This fellow talks straight words
like a lawyer ought.’’
"You'll be a great lawyer your
self some day,” Cynthia said.
"I aim to if I can.”
They sat, each with their own
thoughts, for a minute In silence.
“Is Reuben a great surveyor?"
she asked, Interrupting the silence.
“Why, yes. He seems to know u
right smart."
"Is he ns nice out In the woods
as he is about the house?”
“I don't see any change in him.”
"I like his way of talking about
the Ohio river and things,” she said.
Then, rousing from the dream In
which he was still partly sub
merged, he said, “I guess you like
him a right smart, don’t you?”
The directness of It made her
self-conscious and she blushed. She
retreated Into herself a little way
in defense, “I think he’s right nice.”
“You’re in love with him. You’ve
been different since that night he
came and you put flowers and a
white cloth on the table.”
“Why, Jesse, I . . . Why do you
say that?”
“Oh, Reuben is a nice fellow. I
don’t blame you any.”
Cynthia had not meant to speak
to Jesse about Reuben. She had
merely sat there with her own
thoughts but they had moved so
quietly and rapidly that the pres
sure of the undersurge had sudden
ly escaped into words. “What do
you do or say about it to another
person, anyway? Would even Jesse
understand? A body doesn’t do or
say anything but lets it have its
own way. It sparkles in your heart
where no one sees, and it lights up
the so.; and changes the look of
the whole world. You hold it there
like It was star vapor from anoth
er world or the first green mist of
leaves sifting between the willow
limbs on Wolfpen and it trembles
Inside of you with wonder. Maybe
if you let it alone and believe in
it ’»
Cynthia changed the subject skil
fully back to Jesse.
"You’ve sure read a right smart
in such a hard book.”
"I guess I’ve been getting along
right well."
"I came out to lay some of the po
, tato vines up on the ridges for you."
“You don’t need to do that; you
got plenty to do. It don't look like
we’d have much time for House
Field this evening, anyway."
“There’s never enough time in the
day any more. Can I carry your
book back with me if you’re not go
ing to use it?”
She took the book, and Jesse
roused the mule. It was too late
for Cynthia to help in the sweet-po
tato vines. She went on to the
house and got the water bucket and
went to the well as the sun slipped
off of Saul’s headstone, drawing
alter it a veil of dark. She saw
Shellenberger and Mullens coming
down the path from the I’innacle.
It was almost dark when the oth
er men came in. Cynthia could see
them from the kitchen, a bustle of
men around the wash rock rolling
up their sleeves, opening their
shirts, soaping and splashing and
sputtering; thinking how funny men
folk were when they washed. Reu
ben had come into the kitchen.
"I hope we haven’t put you out,
Cynthia, being so late. I had this
instrument set up and I wanted to
finish off a line before I pulled it
up.”
“It Isn't any trouble at all," she
said.
"It was slow going and made us
late.”
The men were unusually talkative
at the table and on the porch after
supper. Cynthia sometimes listened.
"Yes, we got around all right,"
Shellenherger was saying. "We’ll
cut in through Dry creek and work
back. We may have to put in a
splash dam to give them a start
down Gannon.”
"Are you actually going to float
logs down Gannon?" Abral asked.
“We certainly are.”
"In rafts?”
“\res. Small ones.”
“Can 1 take one down?” Abral
demanded. /
“You certainly can,” Shellenher
ger said. “Hut we have to cut the
logs first. Do you think we can get
good men along the creeks here?’
“There’ll be plenty out of these
hollows,” Sparrel said. "The coun
try Is filing up fast and plenty of
them have not mad enough to keep
them busy."
“We’ll have to put up a camp
there. If you'd rig up a saw on your
mill we could rip out boards pretty
quick."
The saw ought to be In now any
time," Sparrel said.
So the talk went on while Shel
lenberger explained about the su
periority of oxen over mules In lum
bering because they draw heavier
loads, require no expensive harness,
stand rougher treatment, eat less
and cheaper foods and graze at
night; and of the number of wedges
and wooden mauls and cross-cut
saws and axes and spike poles and
adzes and peaveys required; and of
blacksmithlng and the hazards of
logging and the carelessness of men
even where their necks are In danger.
Cynthia had finished the dishes
and was moving the lamp from the
table, it Hashed agninst the pol
ished brass of Reuben’s compass.
“That was the tirst time he ever
called me anything. Cynthia. He
says it so nice. ‘I hope we haven’t
put you out, Cynthia . . .’ I don't
reckon many a man would say it
about keeping a supper waiting for
them. ’It was slow going and made
us late.’ You're in love with him.
You’ve been different since that
night he came and you put on flow
ers and a white cloth ... 1 guess
things just happen to a body. They
happen deep in you when you don't
know it, and then one day, like
this, suddenly they come out and
there they are."
The coming of Shellenberger had
not yet destroyed the singular dis
tinction of mood the Sabbath
brought to Wolfpen. Since the days
of Saul Pattern It had been set
apart by the ceremonial of peace
and rest from dniiy toil and elevat
ed above the other days by n touch
of solemnity. Church services were
rnre. Possibly for that reason the
She Was Fascinated by His Zeal
and the Reality of the Performance.
Patterns had been at pains to keep
alive In their isolation the sense of
Its difference. This weekly pause
between periods of labor, when the
mill was silent and the churn and
the loom were still, gave to their
life some of the ancient dignity
which the religions of quiet self
discipline have always conferred
upon pastoral peoples.
Sparrel would read In his books
and ponder a passage from the Bi
ble. He would go to the barn to
look over his stock, or walk Into
his fields and lean over the topmost
bar looking off into the hills which
seemed to be affected by the day.
But today the thought of his new
saw, which he had just brought over
from the river ou a mule’s back,
tilled the place of a more quiet con
templation. He took Iteuben and
the boys down to the mill to look
over the plan for the new circular
saw.
Kparrel’s pride in his Improve
ment was stimulated by the days of
absence from it In the woods. He
told Reuben of the earlier Pattern
mills and of their gradual trans
formation into this modern power
unit. Reuben listened with the at
tention of one who found in the
recreation of earlier modes of life
an enthralling realization of the
continuity of the generations and
tile growth of a culture.
They examined the new saw and
the shaft which turned the mill
stones.
Then the hoys proposed that they
go on into Dry Creek Hollow where
Shellenberger and Mullens had
gone, and see where the lumbering
operations were to begin, lteuben
excused Himself with the plea that
lie wanted to go over his notes ou
the last lines of the survey and
check them against the deeds to
see where he was going before the
party proceeded on Monday. He
went back toward the house, leis
urely, thinking of this place into
which lie had come, of the native
refinement of the people who lived
here, and of the fair-skinned girl
who had weeks ago made him wel
come under conditions so embar
rassing to herself. He had said lit
tle to her, and she had said per
haps even less to him. But her
few words were adequate symbols
for revealing to him a dream
touched soul who clothed the com
monplace with the radiance of po
etry. He had seen this in her face,
in the bend of her arm. in the play
of her eyes and mouth when she
looked at him. He had sensed It in
the natural ease of manner which
she carried In the presence of these
men, and In the slight deference
with which she greeted him. He
thought of Julia, with her grace
and quiet competence, as the beau
tiful portent of the future years of
Cynthia. And so thinking, he came
through the barnyard gate. His
eyes were ou the house, trying to
fee through it the kind of men
whose foresight and energy had
built it in tlds removed place.
Julia had Just come to the porcli
ou her way to her flower-beds.
“You are back early, lteuben.”
“Yes. I wanted to have a look at
the last lines we ran yesterday. The
others all went to Dry Creek."
He sat at the table plotting the
lines and sketching in tlie creeks
they hud crossed and the trees at
the corners. Then he Journeyed in
his mind over the course he had
re contracting it again to the scale
ot ,ne map and thinking how oddly
tlie mind can get turned around,
and be unhappy until its map and
tlie one on paper coincide. He exam
ined the yellowing deeds and drew
lightly tlie course to be followed
for tlie next day.
Cynthia came Into tlie kitchen.
She was surprised to And herself
looking immediately into Ids eyes,
"Oh! Kxcuse me," she said.
“Not at all."
“Surveying? And on Sunday?”
“There are so many tilings to be
surveyed here, you have to use ev
ery day and Sunday too."
“It’s a good day for surveying."
“It’s too good to be long indoors.
I have Mulshed anyway. I was try
ing to get yesterday straight in my
mind, and projecting tomorrow."
Cynthia stood by the table look
ing at him and at his map, with nn
artless and unconfused silence,more
becoming than speech. She had a
way of lifting her head and offer
ing a simple smile that flushed del
icately over her face and into her
eyes, and became radiaut under the
coil of rich dark Hair.
In this Isolated privacy he felt
that he was seeing her for the first
time. He thought quickly over the
weeks he had been here. Always
there had been other people, put
ting strains on relationships sim
ply because they were physically
present. When he had seen her
and been affected by her, the con
sciousness of Sparrel, or Julia, or
the brothers, or the other men, had
been there, too, and there was no
telling what part of the completed
effect was provoked by the grace
ful and sensitive young girl. Now,
Julia was in the garden, beyond
this new aura, and all the men were
far away on Dry Creek, leaving
this moment to Cynthia.
“Do you like it up here?’ she
asked. But even before she spoke
she felt how irrelevant to the rich
and powerful underllow of feeling
between them was the convention
that nothing reully exists until it
lias been dragged forth from its
privacy and trimmed, distorted and
then sewn up into words.
And there began two movements
through time: the significant but
unvoiced understandings and the
commonplace of talk.
“I never liked a place better,” he
said. “Do you like It?"
“It’s my home. A body Just nat
urally likes home.”
“Well, not always. People do a
lot of moving about. Do you ever
wish to go out In the world?”
“I’ve been to Pikeville. And I’m
going over there this fall to the
Institute for the winter. Someday
I’m to go down the river to the Ohio."
“My people live right on the Ohio
river. You cun see the mouth of
Sandy and the big bend in the Ohio
from our porch. And see the big
steamboats come around it. In the
night-time, when there is a moon,
they look like a great swan with a
black neck and a string of red and
green heads around it. I guess
that sounds kinds of funny.”
“Oh, no. I like to think that way
about things."
They both felt suddenly confused.
“It’s a fine day," Iteuben suid.
“Could we walk, or sit somewhere
a while?”
“Let’s do,” she said.
They strolled across the yard to
the path along Julia’s garden fence.
Julia was among her sweetpeas
pulling off the faded blooms.
“You certainly have a fine gar
den, Mrs. Pattern,” Iteuben suid.
“It’s not quite so good this year,’
Julia replied.
’I’lie soft part of the -fternoon
lay quiet over the valley.
“We’re going to sit a little while
up there on the rock by the syca
more,” Cynthia said.
"Well, don’t go far,” Julia said,
following them with her eyes to
the shaded spot by the creek in full
view of the house and garden.
They felt strangely happy to be
removed from all places where they
had been in company with other
people, and to he alone together in
a new place whose only associations
were those they were now making.
"We found some nice spots back
in the woods," Iteuben said, “I like
the way the hollows fork off on
each side of Wolfpen, like ribs on
a wahoo, leaf.”
(TO BE CONTINUED)
P*ychology in Busines*
A young woman In the fur depart
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