The News Which Came to Asher's [pp. 120-126]

THE NEWS WHICH CAME TO ASHER'S
carriages and let my farm go to the dogs,
just now."
"If you mean to intimate that my
farm's going to the dogs," said Pettibone,
his black eyes snapping, "I can assure
you I ain't intending to let you have it.
You're always standing with your mouth
open ready to snap up any piece of land
around. I'd rather see my family decently circumstanced, if I was you, than
to be heapin' up what I could n't take
with me."
"You can't take nothing you've got
with you, I bet," exclaimed Asher, hotly.
"And for all the airs of some people in
this neighborhood, my daughter will be
better fixed than any of them-after
while."
"She's her father child," said Pettibone wvith a sneer. "Looking out for
the future and sparing no pains to help
herself to all she can. Do you know,
sir," cried the fat farmer, giving way to
the wrath boiling within him, "that your
girl has got my boy to promise to marry
her?"
The lean farmer struck his rake on
the ground.
"That is n't so, sir. My daughter
would n't take up with none of the Pettibone set!"
"I tell you it is so, sir; and it's got to
be stopped!"
"And I tell you, sir, that your son can't
have my daughter; and if he comes
'round here I'11 set the dogs on him."
"Set the dogs on my son, sir! I'll
horse-whip you if you do, sir!"
"Get off my place, sir!"
There was a pause in the threshing,
and the threshers, winking and nodding
to each other, drew nearer this conference.
"You're a contemptible, narrow-souled
snail," hurled Pettibone, perspiring plentifully, as he began to turn his horse's
head; "you're in the same little shell
that your grandfather started in. If a
son of mine ever dared mention to me
that he wanted to marry your girl, I'd
cut him off without a cent; so that's
your warning, sir. Tell her that she'11
get nothing by that transaction, if she
tries to carry it out."
"And your warning, sir, is the same
old warning," shouted Asher. "Your
dog came and killed my sheep once, and
the whole tribe of you have been trying
to prey on me ever since. Your dog'11
be shot like that un was afore, so keep
the puppy at home."
"That's a way for Church brethren to
commune!" observed one thresher to
another.
Pettibone started out of the farm-yard
gate, even his sorrel horse seeming to
shake the Asher dust off his hoofs, but the
way was blocked by a messenger bringing a warning different from those which
the two men had been sending to each
other. This was Abijah Pence; his nag
was dripping, and the tall, lean colt behind it looked but the spirit of a colt.
"My gracious!" cried Ablijah Pence,
shaking two fingers at the farmers,
"have n't you heard the news?"
Now, Abijah being always as full of
news as a walnut is of meat, nobody felt
startled by this introduction; but when
he proceeded, Pettibone drew his lines
with a spadmodic grip, and Asher ran
up and down like an insane man.
"The two-twenty train from the East
off the track down here-hundreds of
passengers smashed in the wreck-a
burning axle caused it-and the whole
on fire!"
"What are you saying, Abijah Pence?"
called Pettibone, hoarsely. That's the
train my son's on!"
"That's the train my daughter's on!"
cried Asher, jerking one of the horses
insanely. "unhitch this beast this minute. The threshing'11 have to wait, men.
I've got to go over there, and see to my
daughter!"
"What's the matter?" cried Mrs.
Asher, coming down to the barn lot, with
her kitchen sun-bonnet on.
Pettibone had lashed his horses; but
he paused and stood up in his carriage.
"Get in with me, both of you," he
called, his face white and stiff. "Get in
Job Asher; our children's burning to
123
1876.]