第42章

"Yer all shuck up by the happenin's yesterday," she said with such tactful sympathy that his sensitive mettle was not offended."'Tis nateral ye should be.Hit's allers so.Folks kin say what they please, but fouten's terrible tryin' to the narves, no matter who does hit.My husband wuz in the Mexican War, an' he's offen tole me thet fur weeks arter the battle o' Buner Visty he couldn't heah a twig snap withouten his heart poppin' right up inter his mouth, an' hit wuz so with everybody else, much ez they tried ter play off unconsarned like.""Ah, really?" said Henry, deeply interested in all the concerned this woman, whose remarkable qualities were impressing themselves upon his recognition."What part of the army did your husband belong to?""He wuz in the Kentucky rigimint commanded by Kunnel Henry Clay, son o' the great Henry Clay, who wuz killed thar.My husband was promoted to a Leftenant fur his brav'ry in the battle.""Then this is not your first experience with war?""No, indeed," said she, with just a trace of pride swelling in the temple's delicate network of blue veins."The Fortners an' the Brills air soljer families, an' ther young men hev shouldered ther guns whenever the country needed fouten-men.Great gran'fathers Brill an' Fortner come inter the State along with Dan'l boone nigh onter a hundred years ago, and sence then them an' ther descendents hev fit Injuns, Brittishers an' Mexikins evr'y time an inimy raised a sword agin the country.""Many of them lose their lives?"

"Yes, ev'ry war hez cost the families some member.Gran'fathes Brill an' Fortner war both on 'em killed at the Injun ambush at Blue Licks.I wuz on'y a baby when my father wuz killed at the massacre of Winchester's men at the River Raisin.My brother---""father of the man I was with yesterday?""No; HIS father wuz my oldest brother.My youngest brother--the 'baby' o' the family--wuz mortally wounded by a copper ball in the charge on the Bishop's Palace at the takin' o' Monterey.""And your husband--he went through the war safely, did he?"The pleasant, mobile lines upon the woman's face congealed into stony hardness.At the moment of Harry's question she was beginning to count the stitches in her work for some feminine mystery of "narrowing"or "turning." She stopped, and hands and knittng dropped into her lap.

"My husband," she said slowly and bitterly, "wuz spared by the Mexikins thet he fit, but not by his own countrymen an' neighbors, amongst whom he wuz brung up.His blood wuz not poured out on the soil he invaded, but wuz drunk by the land his forefathers an'

kinsmen hed died fur.The godless Greasers on the River Grande war kinder ter him nor the CHRISTIAN gentlemen on the Rockassel."The intensity and bitterness of the utterance revealed a long conning of the expression of bitter truths.

"He lost his life, then," said Harry, partially comprehending, "in some of the troubles around here?""He wuz killed, bekase he wouldn't help brek down what hit hed cost so much ter build up.He wuz killed, bekase he thot a pore man's life wuth mo'en a rich man's nigger.He wuz killed, bekase he b'lieved this whole country belonged ter the men who'd fit fur hit an' made hit what hit is, an' thet hit wuzn't a plantation fur a passel o' slave-drivers ter boss an' divide up jess ez hit suited 'em.""Why, I thought all you Kentuckians were strongly in favor of keeping the negores in slavery," said Harry in amazement.

"Keepin the niggers ez slaves ain't the question at all.We folks air ez fur from bein' Abolitionists ez ennybody.Hit's a battle now with a lot uv 'ristocrats who'd take our rights away.""I don't quite understand your position," said Harry.

"Hit's bekase ye don't understand the country.The people down heah air divided into three classes.Fust thar's the few very rich fam'lies that hev big farms over in the Blue Grass with lots o'

niggers ter work 'em.Then thar's the middle class--like the Fortners an' the Brills--thet hev small farms in the creek vallies, an'

wharever thar's good land on the mounting sides; who hev no niggers, an' who try ter lead God-fearin', hard-workin' lives, an' support ther fam'lies decently.Lastly thar's the pore white trash, thet lives 'way up in the hollers an' on the wuthless lands about the headwaters.They've little patches o' corn ter make ther breadstuff, an' depend on huntin', fishin', an' stealin' fur the rest o' their vittles.They've half-a-dozen guns in every cabin, but nary a hoe;they've more yaller dogs then the rest o' us hev sheep, an they find hit a good deal handier ter kill other folks's hogs than ter raise ther own pork.""Hardly desirable neighbors, I should think," ventured Harry.

"Hit's war all the time between our kind o' people, and them other kinds.Both on 'em hates us like pizen, an' on our side--well, we air Christians, but we recken thet when Christ tole us ter love our inimies, an' do good ter them ez despitefully used us, he couldn't hev hed no idee how mean people would git ter be long arter he left the airth."Harry could not help smiling at this new adaptation of Scriptural mandate.