Sandy

  CHAPTER VIII

  AUNT MELVY AS A SOOTHSAYER

  It was a crisp afternoon in late October. The road leading west fromClayton ran the gantlet of fiery maples and sumac until it reached thebarren hillside below "Who'd 'a' Thought It." The little cabin clungto the side of the steep slope like a bit of fungus to the trunk of atree.

  In the doorway sat three girls, one tall and dark, one plump and fair,and the third straight and thin. They were anxiously awaiting therevelation of the future as disclosed by Aunt Melvy's far-famedtea-leaves. The prophetess kept them company while waiting for thewater to boil.

  "He sutenly is a peart boy," she was saying. "De jedge done start himin plumb at de foot up at de 'cademy, an' dey tell me he's ketchin' upright along."

  "Wasn't it g-grand in Judge Hollis to send him to school?" saidAnnette. "Of course he's going to work for him b-between times. Theysay even Mrs. Hollis is glad he is going to stay."

  "'Co'se she is," said Aunt Melvy; "dere nebber was nobody come it overMiss Sue lak he done."

  "Father says he is very quick," ventured Martha Meech, a faint colorcoming to her dull cheek at this unusual opportunity of descantingupon such an absorbing subject. "Father told Judge Hollis he wouldhelp him with his lessons, and that he thought it would be only alittle while before he was up with the other boys."

  "Dad says he's a d-dandy," cried Annette. "And isn't it grand he'sgoing to be put on the ball team and the glee club!"

  Ruth rose to break a branch laden with crimson maple-leaves. "Was heever here before?" she asked in puzzled tones. "I have seen himsomewhere, and I can't think where."

  "Well, I'd never f-forget him," said Annette. "He's got the jolliestface I ever saw. M-Martha says he can jump that high fence b-back ofthe Hollises' without touching it. I d-drove dad's buggy clear up overthe curbstone yesterday, so he would come to the r-rescue, and heswung on to old B-Baldy's neck like he had been a race-horse."

  "But you don't know him," protested Ruth. "And, besides, he was--hewas a peddler."

  "I don't care if he was," said Annette. "And if I don't know him, it'sno sign I am not g-going to."

  Aunt Melvy chuckled as she rose to encourage the fire with a pair ofsqueaking old bellows.

  Martha looked about the room curiously. "Can you really tell what'sgoing to happen?" she asked timidly.

  "Indeed she can," said Annette. "She told Jane Lewis that she wasg-going to have some g-good luck, and the v-very next week her auntdied and left her a turquoise-ring!"

  "Yas, chile," said Aunt Melvy, bending over the fire to light herpipe; "I been habin' divisions for gwine on five year. Dat's what mademe think I wuz gwine git religion; but hit ain't come yit--not yit.I'm a mourner an' a seeker." Her pipe dropped unheeded, and she gazedwith fixed eyes out of the window.

  "Tell us about your visions," demanded Annette.

  "Well," said Aunt Melvy, "de fust I knowed about it wuz de lizards inmy legs. I could feel 'em jus' as plain as day, dese here little greenlizards a-runnin' round inside my legs. I tole de doctor 'bout hit,Miss Nettie; but he said 't warn't nothin' but de fidgits. I knowedbetter 'n he did dat time. Dat night I had a division, an' de dreamsay, 'Put on yer purple mournin'-dress an' set wid yer feet in abarrel ob b'ilin' water till de smoke comes down de chimbly.' An' soI done, a-settin' up dere on dat chist o' drawers all night, wid mypurple mournin'-dress on an' my feet in de b'ilin' water, an' delizards run away so fur dat dey ain't even stopped yit."

  "Aunt Melvy, do you tell fortunes by palmistry?" asked Ruth.

  "Yas'm; I reckon dat's what you call hit. I tells by de tea-leaves.Lor', Miss Rufe, you sutenly put me in min' o' yer grandmaw! Shekerried her haid up in de air jus' lak you do, an' she wuz jus' asputty as you is, too. We libed in de ole plantation what's done burneddown now, an' I lubed my missus--I sutenly did. When my ole man fustcome here from de country I nebber seen sech a fool. He didn't know nomore 'bout courtin' dan nothin'; but I wuz better qualified. I jus'tole ole miss how 't wuz, an' she fixed up de weddin'. I nebber willfergit de day we walk ober de plantation an' say we wuz married.George he had on a brand-new pair pants dat cost two hundred an'sixty-four dollars in Confederate money."

  "Isn't the water b-boiling yet?" asked Annette, impatiently.

  "So 't is, so 't is," said Aunt Melvy, lifting the kettle from thecrane. She dropped a few tea-leaves in three china cups, and then withgreat solemnity and occasional guttural ejaculations poured the waterover them.

  Before the last cup was filled, Annette, with a wry face, had drainedthe contents of hers and held it out to Aunt Melvy.

  "There are my leaves. If they don't tell about a lover with b-blueeyes and an Irish accent, I'll never b-believe them."

  Aunt Melvy bent over the cup, and her sides shook. "You gwine be afarmer's wife," she said, chuckling at the girl's grimace. "You gwineraise chickens an' chillun."

  "Ugh!" said Annette as the other girls laughed; "are his eyes b-blue?"

  Aunt Melvy pondered over the leaves. "Well, now, 'pears to me he'ssorter dark-complected an' fat, like Mr. Sid Gray," she said.

  "Never!" declared Annette. "I loathe Sid."

  "Tell my future!" cried Martha, pushing her cup forward eagerly.

  "Dey ain't none!" cried Aunt Melvy, aghast, as she saw the few brokenleaves in the bottom of the cup. "You done drinked up yer fortune.Dat's de sign ob early death. I gwine fix you a good-luck bag; dey sayef you carry it all de time, hit's a cross-sign ag'in' death."

  "But can't you tell me anything?" persisted Martha.

  "Dey ain't nothin' to tell," repeated Aunt Melvy, "'cep'n' to warn youto carry dat good-luck bag all de time."

  "Now, mine," said Ruth, with an incredulous but curious smile.

  For several moments Aunt Melvy bent over the cup in deepconsideration, and then she rose and took it to the window, withfearsome, anxious looks at Ruth meanwhile. Once or twice she made asign with her fingers, and frowned anxiously.

  "What is it, Aunt Melvy?" Ruth demanded. "Am I going to be an oldmaid?"

  "'T ain't no time to joke, chile," whispered Aunt Melvy, all thesuperstition of her race embodied in her trembling figure. "What Isee, I see. Hit's de galluses what I see in de bottom ob yer cup!"

  "Do you m-mean suspenders?" laughed Annette.

  Aunt Melvy did, not hear her; she was looking over the cup into space,swaying and moaning.

  "To t'ink ob my ole missus' gran'chile bein' mixed up wif a gallus lakdey hang de niggers on! But hit's dere, jus' as plain as day, de twopoles an' de cross-beam."

  Ruth laughed as she looked into the cup.

  "Is it for me?"

  "Don't know, honey; de signs don't p'int to no one person: but hit'sin yer life, an' de shadow rests ag'in' you."

  By this time Martha was at the door, urging the others to hurry. Herface was pale and her eyes were troubled. Ruth saw her nervousness andslipped her arm about her. "It's all in fun," she whispered.

  "Of course," said Annette. "You m-mustn't mind her foolishness.Besides, I g-got the worst of it. I'd rather die young or be hanged,any day, than to m-marry Sid Gray."

  Aunt Melvy followed them to the door, shaking her head. "I'se gwinemake you chillun some good-luck bags. De fust time de new moon holdswater I'se sholy gwine fix 'em. 'T ain't safe not to mind de signs; 'tain't safe."

  And with muttered warnings she watched them until they were lost toview behind the hill.