Weve had a reglar tussle this mornin, Rose, he said. The logs are determined not to move. Ike Billings, thats the hansomest and fluentest all-round swearer on the Saco, has tried his best on the side jam. Hes all out o cuss-words and there haint a log budged. Now, stid o dog-warpin this afternoon, an lettin the oxen haul off all them stubborn logs by main force, were goin to ask you to set up on the bank and smile at the jam. Land! she can do it! says Ike a minute ago. When Rose starts smilin, he says, there aint a jam nor a bung in me that dont melt like wax and jest float right off same as the logs do when they get into quiet, sunny water.
Rose blushed and laughed, and drove up the hill to Mite Shapleys, where she put up the horse and waited till the men had eaten their luncheon. The drivers slept and had breakfast and supper at the Billings house, a mile down river, but for several years Mrs. Wiley had furnished the noon meal, sending it down piping hot on the stroke of twelve. The boys always said that up or down the whole length of the Saco there was no such cooking as the Wileys, and much of this praise was earned by Roses serving. It was the old grandmother who burnished the tin plates and dippers till they looked like silver; for crotchety and sharp-tongued as she wasshe never allowed Rose to spoil her hands with soft soap and sand: but it was Rose who planned and packed, Rose who hemmed squares of old white tablecloths and sheets to line the baskets and keep things daintily separate, Rose, also, whose tarts and cakes were the pride and admiration of church sociables and sewing societies.
Where could such smoking pots of beans be found? A murmur of ecstatic approval ran through the crowd when the covers were removed. Pieces of sweet home-fed pork glistened like varnished mahogany on the top of the beans, and underneath were such deeps of fragrant juice as come only from slow fires and long, quiet hours in brick ovens. Who else could steam and bake such mealy leaves of brown bread, brown as plum-pudding, yet with no suspicion of sogginess? Who such soda-biscuits, big, feathery, tasting of cream, and hardly needing butter? And green-apple pies! Could such candied lower crusts be found elsewhere, or more delectable filling? Or such rich, nutty doughnuts?doughnuts that had spurned the hot fat which is the ruin of so many, and risen from its waves like golden-brown Venuses.
By the great seleckmen! ejaculated Jed Towle, as he swallowed his fourth, Id like to hev a wife, two daughters, and four sisters like them Wileys, and jest set still on the river-bank an hev em cook victuals for me. Id hev nothin to wish for then but a mouth as big as the Sacos.
And I wish this custard pie was the size o Bonnie Eagle Pond, said Ike Billings. Id like to fall into the middle of it and eat my way out!
Look at that bunch o Chiny asters tied on t the bail o that biscuit-pail! said Ivory Dunn. Thats the girls doins, you bet women-folks dont seem to make no boquets after they git married. Lets divide em up an wear em drivin this afternoon; mebbe theyll ketch the eye sot our rags wont show so bad. Land! its lucky my hundred days is about up! If I dont git home soon, I shall be arrested for goin without cloes. I set upbout all night puttin these blue patches in my pants an tryin to piece together a couple of old red-flannel shirts to make one whole one. Thats the worst o drivin in these places where the pretty girls make a habit of comin down to the bridge to see the fun. You hev to keep rigged up jest so stylish; you cant git no chance at the rum bottle, an you even hev to go a leetle mite light on swearin.
BLASPHEMIOUS SWEARIN
Steve Watermans an awful nice feller, exclaimed Ivory Dunn just then. Stephen had been looking intently across the river, watching the Shapleys side door, from which Rose might issue at any moment; and at this point in the discussion he had lounged away from the group, and, moving toward the bridge, began to throw pebbles idly into the water.
Hes an awful smart driver for one that dont foiler drivin the year round, continued Ivory; and hes the awfullest clean-spoken, soft-spoken feller I ever see.
Theres ben two black sheep in his family aready, an Steve kind o feels as if hed ought to be extry white, remarked Jed Towle. You fellers that belonged to the old drive remember Pretty Quick Waterman well enough? Steves mother brought him up.
Yes; most of them remembered the Waterman twins, Stephens cousins, now both dead,Slow Waterman, so moderate in his steps and actions that you had to fix a landmark somewhere near him to see if he moved; and Pretty Quick, who shone by comparison with his twin.
Id kind o forgot that Pretty Quick Waterman was cousin to Steve, said the under boss; he never worked with me much, but he want cut off the same piece o goods as the other Watermans. Great hemlock! but he kep a cussin dictionary, Pretty Quick did! Whenever he heard any new words he must a writ em down, an then studied em all up in the winter-time, to use in the spring drive.
Swearin s a habit that hed ought to be practiced with turrible caution, observed old Mr. Wiley, when the drivers had finished luncheon and taken out their pipes. Theres three kinds o swearin,plain swearin, profane swearin, an blasphemious swearin. Logs air jest like mules: theres times when a man cant seem to rip up a jam in good style thout a few words thats too strong for the infant classes in Sunday-schools; but a man hednt ought to tempt Providence. When hes ridin a log near the falls at high water, or cuttin the key-log in a jam, he aint in no place for blasphemious swearin; jest a little easy, perlite damn is bout all he can resk, if he dont want to git drownded an hev his ghost walkin the river-banks till kingdom come.
You an I, Long, was the only ones that seen Pretty Quick go, want we? continued Old Kennebec, glancing at Long Abe Dennett (cousin to Short Abe), who lay on his back in the grass, the smoke-wreaths rising from his pipe, and the steel spikes in his heavy, calked-sole boots shining in the sun.