The Hired Man And Floretty

The Hired Man's supper, which he sat before,     In near reach of the wood-box, the stove-door     And one leaf of the kitchen-table, was     Somewhat belated, and in lifted pause     His dextrous knife was balancing a bit     Of fried mush near the port awaiting it.     At the glad children's advent - gladder still     To find him there - "Jest tickled fit to kill     To see ye all!" he said, with unctious cheer. -     "I'm tryin'-like to he'p Floretty here     To git things cleared away and give ye room     Accordin' to yer stren'th. But I p'sume     It's a pore boarder, as the poet says,     That quarrels with his victuals, so I guess     I'll take another wedge o' that-air cake,     Florett', that you're a-learnin' how to bake."     He winked and feigned to swallow painfully. -     "Jest 'fore ye all come in, Floretty she     Was boastin' 'bout her biscuits - and they air     As good - sometimes - as you'll find anywhere. -     But, women gits to braggin' on their bread,     I'm s'picious 'bout their pie - as Danty said."     This raillery Floretty strangely seemed     To take as compliment, and fairly beamed     With pleasure at it all.          - "Speakin' o' bread -     When she come here to live," The Hired Man said, -     "Never ben out o' Freeport 'fore she come     Up here, - of course she needed 'sperience some. -     So, one day, when yer Ma was goin' to set     The risin' fer some bread, she sent Florett     To borry leaven, 'crost at Ryans' - So,     She went and asked fer twelve. - She didn't know,     But thought, whatever 'twuz, that she could keep     One fer herse'f, she said. O she wuz deep!"     Some little evidence of favor hailed     The Hired Man's humor; but it wholly failed     To touch the serious Susan Loehr, whose air     And thought rebuked them all to listening there     To her brief history of the city-man     And his pale wife - "A sweeter woman than     She ever saw!" - So Susan testified, -     And so attested all the Loehrs beside. -     So entertaining was the history, that     The Hired Man, in the corner where he sat     In quiet sequestration, shelling corn,     Ceased wholly, listening, with a face forlorn     As Sorrow's own, while Susan, John and Jake     Told of these strangers who had come to make     Some weeks' stay in the town, in hopes to gain     Once more the health the wife had sought in vain:     Their doctor, in the city, used to know     The Loehrs - Dan and Rachel - years ago, -     And so had sent a letter and request     For them to take a kindly interest     In favoring the couple all they could -     To find some home-place for them, if they would,     Among their friends in town. He ended by     A dozen further lines, explaining why     His patient must have change of scene and air -     New faces, and the simple friendships there     With them, which might, in time, make her forget     A grief that kept her ever brooding yet     And wholly melancholy and depressed, -     Nor yet could she find sleep by night nor rest     By day, for thinking - thinking - thinking still     Upon a grief beyond the doctor's skill, -     The death of her one little girl.         "Pore thing!"     Floretty sighed, and with the turkey-wing     Brushed off the stove-hearth softly, and peered in     The kettle of molasses, with her thin     Voice wandering into song unconsciously -     In purest, if most witless, sympathy. -                  "'Then sleep no more:                  Around thy heart                     Some ten-der dream may i-dlee play.                  But mid-night song,                  With mad-jick art,                     Will chase that dree muh-way!'"     "That-air besetment of Floretty's," said     The Hired Man, - "singin - she inhairited, -     Her father wuz addicted - same as her -     To singin' - yes, and played the dulcimer!     But - gittin' back, - I s'pose yer talkin' 'bout     Them Hammondses. Well, Hammond he gits out     Pattents on things - inventions-like, I'm told -     And's got more money'n a house could hold!     And yit he can't git up no pattent-right     To do away with dyin'. - And he might     Be worth a million, but he couldn't find     Nobody sellin' health of any kind!...     But they's no thing onhandier fer me     To use than other people's misery. -     Floretty, hand me that-air skillet there     And lem me git 'er het up, so's them-air     Childern kin have their popcorn."         It was good     To hear him now, and so the children stood     Closer about him, waiting.         "Things to eat,"     The Hired Man went on, "'s mighty hard to beat!     Now, when I wuz a boy, we was so pore,     My parunts couldn't 'ford popcorn no more     To pamper me with; - so, I hat to go     Without popcorn - sometimes a year er so! -     And suffer'n' saints! how hungry I would git     Fer jest one other chance - like this - at it!     Many and many a time I've dreamp', at night,     About popcorn, - all busted open white,     And hot, you know - and jest enough o' salt     And butter on it fer to find no fault -     Oomh! - Well! as I was goin' on to say, -     After a-dreamin' of it thataway,     Then havin' to wake up and find it's all     A dream, and hain't got no popcorn at-tall,     Ner haint had none - I'd think, 'Well, where's the use!'     And jest lay back and sob the plaster'n' loose!     And I have prayed, whatever happened, it     'Ud eether be popcorn er death!.... And yit     I've noticed - more'n likely so have you -     That things don't happen when you want 'em to."     And thus he ran on artlessly, with speech     And work in equal exercise, till each     Tureen and bowl brimmed white. And then he greased     The saucers ready for the wax, and seized     The fragrant-steaming kettle, at a sign     Made by Floretty; and, each child in line,     He led out to the pump - where, in the dim     New coolness of the night, quite near to him     He felt Floretty's presence, fresh and sweet     As ... dewy night-air after kitchen-heat.     There, still, with loud delight of laugh and jest,     They plied their subtle alchemy with zest -     Till, sudden, high above their tumult, welled     Out of the sitting-room a song which held     Them stilled in some strange rapture, listening     To the sweet blur of voices chorusing: -             "'When twilight approaches the season                 That ever is sacred to song,              Does some one repeat my name over,                 And sigh that I tarry so long?              And is there a chord in the music                 That's missed when my voice is away? -              And a chord in each heart that awakens                 Regret at my wearisome stay-ay -                  Regret at my wearisome stay.'"     All to himself, The Hired Man thought - "Of course     They'll sing Floretty homesick!"         ... O strange source     Of ecstasy! O mystery of Song! -     To hear the dear old utterance flow along: -             "'Do they set me a chair near the table                  When evening's home-pleasures are nigh? -              When the candles are lit in the parlor.                  And the stars in the calm azure sky.'"...     Just then the moonlight sliced the porch slantwise,     And flashed in misty spangles in the eyes     Floretty clenched - while through the dark - "I jing!"     A voice asked, "Where's that song 'you'd learn to sing     Ef I sent you the ballat?' - which I done     Last I was home at Freeport. - S'pose you run     And git it - and we'll all go in to where     They'll know the notes and sing it fer ye there."     And up the darkness of the old stairway     Floretty fled, without a word to say -     Save to herself some whisper muffled by     Her apron, as she wiped her lashes dry.     Returning, with a letter, which she laid     Upon the kitchen-table while she made     A hasty crock of "float," - poured thence into     A deep glass dish of iridescent hue     And glint and sparkle, with an overflow     Of froth to crown it, foaming white as snow. -     And then - poundcake, and jelly-cake as rare,     For its delicious complement, - with air     Of Hebe mortalized, she led her van     Of votaries, rounded by The Hired Man.