Virginia Royall sat in the back seat of
the carriage with Buckner Gowdy, and the darky, Pinckney Johnson--we all
knew him afterward--drove solemnly along wearing white gloves which he
had found somewhere. Virginia shrank away over to her own side of the
seat as if trying to get as far from Buckner Gowdy as possible.
The movers moved on, leaving me four of their cows instead of two of
mine, and I went diligently to work breaking them to the yoke. New
prairie schooners came all the time into view from the East, and others
went over the sky-line into the West.
4
And that day the Fewkes family hove into sight in a light democrat wagon
drawn by a good-sized apology for a horse, poor as a crow, and carrying
sail in the most ferocious way of any beast I ever saw. He had had a bad
case of poll-evil and his head was poked forward as if he was just about
to bite something, and his ears were leered back tight to his head with
an expression of the most terrible anger--I have known people who went
through the world in a good deal the same way for much the same reasons.
Old Man Fewkes was driving, and sitting by him was Mrs. Fewkes in a
faded calico dress, her shoulders wrapped in what was left of a shawl.
Fewkes was letting old Tom take his own way, which he did by rushing
with all vengeance through every bad spot and then stopping to rest as
soon as he reached a good bit of road. The old man was thin and
light-boned, with a high beak of a nose which ought to have indicated
strength of character, I suppose; but the other feature that also tells
a good deal, the chin, was hidden by a gray beard which hung in long
curving locks over his breast and saved him the expense of a collar or
cravat.
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