by Dave Mckay
They looked at each other, moving their heads, as much as to say, “What did I tell you?” Then one of them says, kind of soft and quiet: “I’m sorry. sir, but the best we can do is to tell you where he did live yesterday evening.”
Fast as you can wink that dirty old robber went and fell up against the man, and put his head on his shoulder, and cried down his back, and says:
“Oh no, oh no, our poor brother -- gone, and we never got to see him; oh, it’s too, too hard!”
Then he turns around, crying, and makes a lot of stupid signs to the duke on his hands, and I’ll be blamed if he didn’t drop a bag and break out a-crying too. If they weren’t the most low down lot, them two robbers, that ever I saw.
Well, the men come around and tried to make them feel better, and said a lot of kind things, and carried their bags up the hill for them, and let them lean on them and cry, and told the king all about his brother’s last days, and the king he told it all over again on his hands to the duke, and both of them took on about that dead leather maker like they’d lost the twelve disciples. Well, if ever I saw anything like it, I’m a slave. It was enough to make a body feel guilty just for being the same animal as them.
Chapter 25
The news was all over town in two minutes, and you could see people coming down on the run from every which way, some of them putting on their coats as they come. Pretty soon we was in the middle of a crowd. The windows and doors was full; and every minute someone would say, over a fence:
“Is it them?”
And someone running along with the gang would answer back and say: “You can be sure it is.”
When we got to the house the street in front of it was filled, and the three girls was standing in the door. Mary Jane was red-headed, but that don’t make no difference, she was most really beautiful, and her face and her eyes was all lighted up like glory, she was so glad her uncles was come. The king he opened his arms, and Mary Jane she jumped for them, and the youngest one jumped for the duke, and there they had it! Almost everyone, the women anyway, cried for happiness to see them meet again at last and have such good times.
Then the king he whispered to the duke secretly -- I seen him do it -- and then he looked around and seen the box with the body in it, over in the corner on two chairs; so then him and the duke, with a hand across each other’s shoulder, and t’other hand to their eyes, walked slow and serious over there, everyone dropping back to give them room, and all the talk and noise stopping, people saying “Shhh!” and all the men taking their hats off and bending their heads down, so you could a heard a needle drop. And when they got there they leaned over and looked in, and took one look, and then they broke out a-crying so you could a almost heard them to Orleans; and then they put their arms around each other’s necks, and put their heads over each other’s shoulders; and then for three minutes, or maybe four, I never seen two men cry the way they done. And everyone else was doing the same; and the place was that wet I never seen anything like it.
Then one of them got on one side of the box, and t’other on t’other side, both of them down on their knees and rested their heads on the box, and let on to pray all to themselves. Well, when it come to that it worked the crowd like you never seen anything like it, and everybody broke down and went to crying right out loud -- the poor girls, too; and every woman, nearly, went up to the girls, without saying a word, and kissed them, serious like, on the front of their head, and then put their hand on their head, and looked up toward the sky, with the tears running down, and then broke up and went off crying and rubbing their eyes, and give the next woman a show. I never seen anything so sick.
Well, by and by the king he gets up and comes forward a little, and works himself up and gives a talk, all full of tears and foolishness about it being a sore test for him and his poor brother to lose the man, and to miss seeing the dead man alive after the long trip of four thousand mile, but it’s a test that has become sweet and wonderful to us by the love and holy tears of the people there, and so he thanks them out of his heart and out of his brother’s heart, because they can’t do it out of their mouths, words being too weak and cold, and all that kind of crazy talk, until it was just making me sick; and then he cries out a holy goody-goody Amen, and turns himself loose and goes to crying loud enough to explode.
And the minute the words were out of his mouth someone over in the crowd started up a church song, and everybody joined in with all their might, and it just warmed you up and made you feel as good as a church meeting finishing.
Music is a good thing; and after all that soul-butter and pig feed from the king I never seen it clean things up so, and make it all sound so honest and good.
Then the king starts to work his mouth again, and says him and his brother’s daughters would be glad if a few of the best friends of the family would have a meal here with them this evening, and help sit up with the ashes of the one who has died; and says if his poor brother lying over there could speak he knows who he would name, for they was names that was very close to him, and ones he used often in his letters; and so he would name the same, that is, as follows, Reverend Hobson, and Lot Hovey, and Ben Rucker, and Abner Shackleford, and Levi Bell, and Doctor Robinson, and their wives, and the widow Bartley.
Reverend Hobson and Doctor Robinson was down to the end of the town a-hunting together -- that is, I mean the doctor was sending a sick man to t’other world, and the preacher was pointing him right. Lawyer Bell was away up to Louisville on business. But the others was on hand, and so they all come and shook hands with the king and thanked him and talked to him; and then they shook hands with the duke and didn’t say nothing, but just kept a-smiling and shaking their heads like a gang of crazies while he made all kinds of signs with his hands and said “Goo-goo, goo-goo-goo” all the time, like a baby that can’t talk.
So the king he went on and on, and was able to ask about pretty much everybody and his dog in town, by his name, and talked about lots of little things that happened one time or another in the town, or that happened to George’s family, or to Peter. And he always let on that Peter wrote him the things; but that was a lie: he got every last one of them out of that young big mouth that we canoed up to the river boat.
Then Mary Jane she got the letter her father left behind, and the king he read it out loud and cried over it. It give the house and three thousand dollars, gold, to the girls; and it give the leather yard (which was doing a good business), along with some other houses and land (worth about seven thousand), and three thousand dollars in gold to Harvey and William, and told where the gold was hiding down in the basement.
So these two robbers said they’d go and bring it up, and have everything square and open; and told me to come with a candle. We shut the door to the room behind us, and when the duke and the king found the bag they poured it out on the floor, and it was something to see, all them yellow coins.
My, the way the king’s eyes did light up! He slaps the duke on the shoulder and says: “Oh, ain't this great! Why, Billjy, it’s better than The King’s Foolishness, ain’t it?”
The duke agreed that it was. They pushed their hands through them yellow coins, and let them go through their fingers and fall down on the floor; and the king says: “It ain’t no use acting; being brothers to a rich dead man and foreign relatives that’s got money left to them is the line for you and me, Bilge. This here comes of trusting God. It’s the best way, in the long run. I’ve tried ‘em all, and there ain’t no better way.”
Most everybody would a been happy with all that money, and took it on trust; but no, they must count it. So they counts it, and it comes out four hundred and fifteen dollars short.
Says the king: “Blame him, what could he have done with that four hundred and fifteen dollars?”
They worried over that for a while, and looked all around for it. Then the duke says:
“Well, he was a pretty sick man, and likely he got it wrong. I think that’s the way of it. The best way’s to let it
go, and keep quiet about it. We can get by without it.”
“Oh, yes, we can get by. I don’t care nothing about that -- it’s the count I’m thinking about. We want to be awful square and open and honest here, you know. We want to carry this here money up the steps and count it before everybody -- then there ain’t nothing secret about it. When the dead man says there’s six thousand dollars, you know, we don’t want to -- “
“Hold on,” says the duke. “Let’s make up the difference,” and he started to pull out gold coins from his pocket.
“It’s a very good plan, Duke -- you have got a pretty smart head on you,” says the king.
“The King’s Foolishness is helping us out again,” and he started to pull out yellow ones and put them on top of each other.
It almost took all they had, but they made up the six thousand clean and clear.
“Say,” says the duke, “I got another plan. Let’s go up there and count this money, and then take and give it to the girls.”
“Good land, duke, let me hug you! It’s the most beautiful plan that ever a man come across. You have truly got the most wonderful head I ever seen. Oh, this is the best game, there ain’t no way around it. Let ‘em bring out their fears about us now if they want to -- this’ll put an end to them.”
When we got up the steps everybody crowded around the table, and the king he counted it and put it in lots of three hundred dollars -- twenty beautiful little lots. Everybody looked hungry at it, and moved their tongues over their lips. Then they pushed it all into the bag again, and I see the king start to build himself up for another talk.
He says: “Friends all, my poor brother that lies over there has done generous by them that’s left behind in such sadness. He has done generous by these here poor little lambs that he loved and protected, and that’s left without a father and mother. Yes, and we that knowed him knows that he would a done more generous by ‘em if he hadn’t been afraid of hurting good William and me. Now, wouldn’t he? There ain’t no question about it in my head. Well, then, what kind of brothers would it be that would stand in his way at such a time? And what kind of uncles would it be that would rob -- yes, rob -- such poor sweet lambs as these that he loved so at such a time? If I know William -- and I think I do -- he -- well, I’ll just ask him.” He turns around and starts to make a lot of signs to the duke with his hands, and the duke he looks at him stupid for a while; then at some point, he seems to catch his meaning, and jumps for the king, goo-gooing with all his might for happiness, and hugs him about fifteen times before he lets up. Then the king says, “I knowed it; I think that will be enough to tell anyone the way he feels about it. Here, Mary Jane, Susan, Joanna, take the money -- take it all. It’s the gift of him that lies over there, cold but in peace.”
Mary Jane she went for him, Susan and the young one went for the duke, and then such another hugging and kissing I never seen. And everybody crowded up with tears in their eyes, and most shook the hands off them robbers, saying all the time: “You wonderful good souls! -- how sweet! -- how could you!”
Well, then, pretty soon all hands got to talking about the dead man again, and how good he was, and what they had lost in him going, and all that; and before long a big man with a strong face worked himself in there from outside, and stood a-listening and looking, and not saying anything; and nobody saying anything to him either, because the king was talking and they was all busy listening. The king was saying -- in the middle of something he’d started in on -- “ -- they being special friends of the dead man, that’s why they were asked to be here this evening; but tomorrow we want all to come -- everybody; for he loved everybody, and so it’s right that his funeral orgies should be for everyone.”
And so he went a-talking on and on, liking to hear himself talk, and every little while he brought in his funeral orgies again, until the duke he couldn’t stand it no more; so he writes on a little piece of paper, “Obsequies, you stupid old man,” and folds it up, and goes to goo-gooing and reaching it over people’s heads to him. The king he reads it and puts it in his pocket, and says: “Poor William, sick as he is, his heart’s right. Asked me to ask everybody to come to the funeral -- wants me to make ‘em all welcome. But he needn’t a worried -- it was just what I was at.”
Then he goes on again, perfectly easy, and goes to dropping in his funeral orgies again every now and then, just like he done before. And when he done it the third time he says:
“I say orgies, not because it’s what most people say, because it ain’t -- obsequies being what most people say -- but I say it because orgies is the right word. Obsequies ain’t used in England no more now -- it’s gone out. We say orgies now in England. Orgies is better, because it means the thing you’re after more perfectly. It’s a word that’s made up out of the Greek orgo, outside, open, for all; and the Hebrew jeesum, to plant, cover up; as in bury. So, you see, funeral orgies is an open funeral for everyone.”
He was the worst I ever saw. Well, the hard faced man he laughed right in his face. Everybody was surprised and hurt. Everybody says, “Why, doctor!” and Abner Shackleford says: “Why, Robinson, ain’t you heard the news? This is Harvey Wilks.”
The king he smiled enthusiastically, and reached out his hand, and says: “Is it my poor brother’s very good friend and doctor? I -- “
“Keep your hands off of me!” says the doctor. “You talk like an English man, do you? It’s the worst English I ever heard. You Peter Wilks’s brother? You’re a robber, that’s what you are!”
Well, how they all took on! They crowded around the doctor and tried to quiet him down, and tried to tell him how Harvey had showed in forty ways that he was Harvey, and knowed everybody by name, and the names of the very dogs, and begged and begged him not to hurt Harvey’s feelings and the poor girls’ feelings, and all that. But it weren’t no use; he stormed right along, and said any man that said he was an English man and couldn’t do the language no better than what he did was telling lies. The poor girls was hanging to the king and crying; and all at once the doctor goes and turns on them.
He says: “I was your father’s friend, and I’m your friend; and I warn you as a friend, and an honest one that wants to protect you and keep you from being hurt, to turn your backs on that man and have nothing to do with him, this uneducated stranger, with his crazy Greek and Hebrew, as he calls it. He is the thinnest kind of counterfeit. He has come here with a lot of empty names and things which he picked up who knows where, and you take them for proof, and are helped to trick yourselves by these foolish friends here, who should know better. Mary Jane Wilks, you know me for your friend, and for your honest friend, too. Now listen to me; send this awful man away -- I beg you to do it. Will you?”
Mary Jane pulled herself up straight, and my, but she was good looking! She says: “Here is my answer.” She took up the bag of money and put it in the king’s hands, and says, “Take this six thousand dollars, and use it to make money for me and my sisters any way you want to, and don’t give us no papers for it.”
Then she put her arm around the king on one side, and Susan and the young one done the same on the other. Everybody clapped their hands and hit their feet on the floor like a perfect storm, while the king held up his head and smiled proud.
The doctor says: “All right; I wash my hands of this. But I warn you all that a time is coming when you’re going to feel sick whenever you think of this day.” And away he went.
“All right, doctor,” says the king, kind of making fun of him; “we’ll try and get ‘em to send for you when they do,” which made them all laugh, and they said it was a very good answer.
Chapter 26
Well, when they was all gone the king he asks Mary Jane how they was off for sleeping rooms, and she said she had one extra room, which would do for Uncle William, and she’d give her own room to Uncle Harvey, which was a little bigger, and she would go into the room with her sisters and sleep on a little fold-up bed; and up above the other rooms was a
little room with a mattress of dried grass in it to lie on. The king said the little room would do for his servant -- meaning me.
So Mary Jane took us up, and showed them their rooms, which was simple but nice. She said she’d have her dresses and other things took out if they was in Uncle Harvey’s way, but he said they weren’t. The dresses was hanging along the wall, and before them was a curtain that went down to the floor.
There was a big old chest in one corner, and a guitar box in another, and a lot of other pretty little things, like girls use to make a room look nice. The king said it was all the better for having these things, and so don’t move them. The duke’s room was pretty small, but good enough, and so was mine.
That night they had a big meal, and all them men and women was there, and I stood behind the king and the duke’s chairs and served them, and the slaves served the others. Mary Jane she sat at the head of the table, with Susan beside her, and said how bad the biscuits was, and how off the fruit was, and how hard the chickens was to chew -- and all that kind of foolishness, the way women always do for to force people to say good things about them; and the people all knowed everything was just right, and said so -- said “How do you get biscuits to brown so nice?” and “Where, for the good of the land, did you get these wonderful apples?” and all that kind of crazy talk, just the way people always does at a meal, you know.
