Oscar Micheaux - The Homesteader - Epoch I, Chapter VIII: An Enterprising Young Man lyrics

WHEN JEAN BAPTISTE had found the papers belonging to Barr, and had come to understand that it had been Barr's intention to destroy the same, natural curiosity had prompted him to read into and examine what was in his possession. But after having read them, and realizing fully to return the same then, would be to have Barr know, at least feel, that he was in possession of such a grave secret, would make their, up to this time agreeable, relationship rather awkward, he was at a loss as to what to do. So in the end he laid the papers away, and waited. If Barr should make inquiries for them, he would try to find some convenient way to re- turn the same. But on after thought, he knew that Barr would hardly start an inquiry about the matter even if he did come to realize he had lost instead of destroyed the papers. A few days later he saw Peter Kaden in the village, and this time observed him more closely than had been his wont theretofore. Always sad, he so remained, and down in Bap- tiste's heart he was sorry for the wretch. It was after he had returned home and lingered at the fire that he heard a light knock at the door. He called " Come in." The door was opened and Augustus M. Barr stood in the doorway. Baptiste was for a time slightly nervous. He was glad then that it was dark within the room, otherwise Barr must have seen him give a quick start. "Ah-ha," began Barr, cheerfully, coming forward and taking the chair Baptiste placed at his disposal. "Quite comfortable in the little sod house on the claim." "Quite comfortable," returned Baptiste evenly, his mind upon the papers so near. He didn't trust himself to com- ment. He waited for whatever was to happen. "Suppose you are thinking about the big crop you will seed in the springtime," ventured Barr. "Yes," admitted Baptiste, for in truth, the same had been on his mind before Barr put in his appearance. "Suppose you will put out quite a crop yourself in the spring," he ventured in return. "Well, I don't know," said Barr thoughtfully. "I fear I'm getting a little old to farm - and this baching!" Baptiste thought about Christine who was not so far away instead of in England. . . . He marveled at the man's calm nerve. It did not seem possible that a man of this one's broad education could be so low as to resort to fallacies. "No," he heard Barr again. "I don't think that I shall farm next summer. In fact I have about decided to make proof on my claim, and that is what I have called on you in regard to. I suppose I can count you as witness to the fact?" Baptiste was relieved. Barr still thought he had destroyed the papers. He was smiling when he replied: "Indeed, I shall be glad to attest to the fact you refer to." "Thanks," Said Barr, and rose to go. "No hurry." "I must go into town on a matter of business," said Barr from the doorway. "Well," he paused briefly and then said, "I am applying for a date, and when that is settled I shall let you know." "Very well. Good day." "Good day, my friend," and he went over the hill. Baptiste was thoughtful when he was gone. He looked after him and thought about the papers. He marveled again at the man's calmness. . . . Then suddenly he arose as a thought struck him, and going to his trunk, lifted from the top the last issue of the Dallas Enterprise. He glanced quickly through the columns and then his eyes rested on a legal notice. He smiled. "Old Peter is going to make proof. . . . So is Barr. The eternal triangle begins to take shape. . . ." He got up and went to the door. Over the hill he saw Barr just entering the town. . . . "This is beginning to get interest- ing. . . . But I don't like the Kaden end of it. ... I wish I could do something. . . . Something to help Kaden. . . ." Saturday was a beautiful day. To Gregory from miles around went almost everybody. So along with the rest went Jean Baptiste. He fostered certain hopes, had ulterior purposes in view. Firstly, it was a nice day, the town he knew would be filled; and secondly, he was subtly interested in Kaden. He had seen by the paper that he was advertised to make proof that day on his homestead. . . . Another thing, whenever he thought of Kaden, he could not keep Barr, and Syfe, and lastly, Christine, out of his mind. . . . He found the little town filled almost to overflowing when he arrived. Teams were tied seemingly to every available post. The narrow board walks were crowded, the saloons were full, red liquor was doing its bit; while the general stores were alive with girls, women and children. A jovial day was ahead and old friendships were revived and new ones made. There is about a new country an air of hopefulness that is contagious. Here in this land had come the best from everywhere: the best because they were for the most part hopeful and courageous; that great army of discontented persons that have been the forerunners of the new world. Mingled in the crowd, Jean Baptiste re- garded the unusual conglomeration of kinds. There were Germans, from Germany, and there were Swedes from Sweden, Danes from Denmark, Norwegians from Norway. There were Poles, and Finns and Lithuanians and Russians; there were French and a few English; but of his race he was the only one. As a whole the greater portion were from the northern parts of the United States, and he was glad that they were. With them there was no "Negro problem," and he was glad there was not. The world was too busy to bother with such: he was glad to know he could work unhampered. He was looked at curiously by many. To the young, a man of his skin was something rare, something new. He smiled over it with equal amusement, and then in a store he walked right into Agnes, the first time he had seen her since the morning at the sod house. He was greatly surprised, and rather flustrated, and was glad again his skin was dark. She could not see the blood that went to his face; while with her, it showed most furiously. As the meeting was unexpected, all she had thought and felt in the weeks since, came suddenly to the surface in her expression. In spite of her effort at self control, her blush- ing face evidenced her confusion upon seeing him again. But with an effort, she managed to bow courteously, while he was just as dignified. They would have pa**ed and gone their ways had it not been that in that instant another, a lady, a neighbor and friend of Baptiste's, came upon them. She had become acquainted with Agnes that day, and was very fond of Baptiste. Although her name was Reynolds, she was a red blooded German, sociable, kind and obliging. She had not observed that they had exchanged greetings did not know, obviously, that the two were acquainted; wherefore, her neighborly instincts became a**ertive. Coming forward volubly, anxiously, she caught Baptiste by the hand and shook it vigorously. " Mr. Baptiste, Mr. Baptiste!" she cried, punctuating the hand shaking with her voice full of joy, her red, healthy face beaming with smiles. "How very glad I am to see you! You have not been to see us for an age, and I have asked Tom where you were. We feared you had gone off and done something serious," whereupon she winked mischievously. Baptiste understood and smiled. "You are certainly looking well for an old bachelor” she commented, after releasing his hand and looking into his face seriously, albeit amusedly, mischievously. "We were at Dallas and got some of the coal you were brave enough to bring from Bonesteel that awful cold day. My, Jean, you certainly are possessed with great nerve! While that coal to everybody was a godsend, yet think of the risk you took! Why, supposing you had gotten lost in that ter- rific storm; lost as people have been in the West before! You must be careful," she admonished, kindly. " You are really too fine a young man to go out here and get frozen to d**h, indeed!" Baptiste started perceptibly. She re- garded him questioningly. Unconsciously his eyes wan- dered toward Agnes who stood near, absorbed in all Mrs. Reynolds had been saying. His eyes met hers briefly, and the events of the night at the sod house pa**ed through the minds of both. The next moment they looked away, and Mrs. Reynolds, not understanding, glanced toward Agnes. She was by disposition versatile. But she caught her breath now with sudden equanimity, as she turned to Agnes and cried: "Oh, Miss Stewart, you!" she smiled with her usual de- light and going toward Agnes caught her arm affectionately, and then, with face still beaming, she turned to where Bap- tiste stood. "I want you, Miss Stewart," she said with much ostenta- tion, "to meet one of our neighbors and friends; one of the most enterprising young men of the country, Mr. Jean Bap- tiste. Mr. Baptiste, Miss Agnes Stewart." She did it gracefully, and for a time was overcome by her own vanity. In the meantime the lips of both those before her parted to say that they had met, and then slowly, understandingly, they saw that this would mean to explain. . . . Their faces lighted with the logic of meeting formally, and greetings were exchanged to fit the occasion. For the first time he was permitted to see her, to regard her as the real Agnes. There was no embarra**ment in her face but composure as she extended her small ungloved hand this time and permitted it to rest lightly in his palm. She smiled easily as she accepted his ardent gaze and showed a row of even white teeth momentarily before turning coquet- ishly away. He regarded her intimately in one sweep of his eyes. She accepted this also with apparent composure. She was now fully normal in her composition. That about her which others had understood, and were inspired to call beautiful now seemed to strangely affect him. Was it because he was hungry for woman's love; be- cause since he had looked upon this land of promise and out of the visions she had come to him in those long silent days; because of his lonely young life there in the sod house she had communed with him; was it that he had imagined her sweet radiance that now caused him to feel that she was beautiful? She had looked away only briefly, as if to give him time to think, to consider her, and then she turned her eyes upon him again. She regarded him frankly then, albeit admir- ingly. She wanted to hear him say something. She was not herself aware of how anxious she was to hear him speak; for him to say anything, would please her. And as she stood before him in her sweet innocence, all the goodness she possessed, the heart and desire always to be kind, to do for others as she had always, was revealed to him. His dream girl she was, and in reality she had not disappointed him. If visionary he had loved her, he now saw her and what was hers. Her wondrous hair, rolled into a frivolous knot at the back of her head made her face appear the least slender when it was really square; the chestnut glint of it seemed to contrast coquettishly with her white skin; and the life, the healthy, cheerful life that now gave vigor to her blood brought faint red roses to her cheeks; roses that seemed to come and go. Her red lips seemed to tempt him, he was captivated. He forgot in this intimate survey that she was of one race while he, Jean Baptiste, was of another. . . . And that between their two races, the invisible barrier, the barrier which, while invisible was so absolute, so strong, so impossible of melting that it was best for the moment that he forget it. While all he saw pa**ed in a moment, he regarded her slenderness as she stood bu*toned in the long coat, and wondered how she, so slight and fragile, had been able to lift his heavy frame upon the bed where he had found himself. And still before words had pa**ed between them, he saw her again, and that singularity in the eyes had come back; they were blue and then they were brown, but withal they were so baffling. He did not seem to understand her when they were like this, yet when so he felt strangely a greater right, the right to look into and feast in what he saw, regardless of the custom of the country and its law. . . . And still while he was not aware of it, Jean Baptiste came to feel that there was something between them. Though infinite, in the life that was to come, he now came strangely to feel sure that he was to know her, to become more intimately acquainted with her, and with this con- sciousness he relaxed. The spell that had come from meet- ing her again, from being near her, from holding her hand in his though formally, the exchange of words pa**ed and he gradually became his usual self; the self that had always been his in this land where others than those of the race to which he belonged were the sole inhabitants. He was re- lieved when he heard Mrs. Reynolds' voice: "Miss Stewart and her folks have just moved out from Indiana, Jean, and are renting on the Watson place over east of you; the place that corners with the quarter you purchased last fall, you understand." "Indeed!" Baptiste echoed with feigned ignorance, his eyebrows dilating. "Yes," she went on with concern, "And you are neigh- bors." "I'm glad honored," Baptiste essayed. "He is flattering," blushed Agnes, but she was pleased. "And you'll find Mr. Baptiste the finest kind of neighbor, too," cried Mrs. Reynolds with equal delight. "I'm a bad neighbor, Miss Stewart," he disdained. "Our friend here, Mrs. Reynolds, you see, is full of flattery." "I don't believe so, Mr. Baptiste," she defended, glad lo be given an opportunity to speak. "We have just be- come acquainted, but papa has told me of her and the family, and I'm sure we will be the best of friends, won't we?" she ended with her eyes upon Mrs. Reynolds. "Bless you, yes! Who could keep from liking you?" whereupon she caught Agnes close and kissed her impul- sively. "Oh, say, now," cried Baptiste, and then stopped. "You're not a woman," laughed Mrs. Reynolds, "but you understand," she added reprovingly. Suddenly her face lit up with a new thought, and the usual smiling gave way to seriousness, as she cried: "By the way, Jean. We hear that you are going to hire a man this spring, and that reminds me that Miss Stewart's father has two boys - her brothers - whom he has not work enough nor horses enough to use, so he wishes to hire one out." She paused to observe Agnes, who had also be- come serious and was looking up at her. At this point she turned to Baptiste, and with a slight hesitation, she said: "Do you really wish to hire a man - Mr. - a - Mr. Baptiste?" Saying it had heightened her color, and the anxiety in her tone caused her to appear more serious. She had turned her eyes up to his and he was for the instant cap- tivated again with the thought that she was beautiful. His answer, however, was calm. "I must have a man," he acknowledged. "I have more work than I can do alone." "Why, papa wishes to hire Bill." It was natural to say Bill because it was Bill they always hired, although George was the older; but since we know why George was never offered, we return to her. "I should say William," she corrected awkwardly, and with an effort she cast it out of her mind and went on: "So if - if you think you could - a - use him, or would care to give him the job," she was annoyed with the fact that Bill was halfwitted, and it confused her, which explains the slight catches in her voice. But bravely she continued, "That is, if you have not already given some one else the job, you could speak to papa, and he would be pleased, I'm sure." She ended with evident relief; but the thought that had confused her, being still in her mind, her face was dark with a confusion that he did not understand. Hoping to relieve the annoyance he could see, although not understanding the cause of it, he spoke up quickly. "I have not hired a man, and have no other in sight; so your suggestion, Miss, regarding your brother meets with my favor. I will endeavor therefore, to see your father today if possible, if not, later, and discuss the mat- ter pro and con." He had made it so easy for her, and she was overly gracious as she attempted to have him understand in some manner that her brother was afflicted. So her effort this time was a bit braver, notwithstanding as anxious, however, as before. "Oh, papa will be glad to have my brother work for you, and I wish you would would please not hire any other until you have talked with him." She paused again as if to gather courage for the final drive. "You will find my brother faithful, and honest, and a good worker; but – but - " it seemed that she could not avoid the break in her voice when she came to this all em- barra**ing point, "but sometimes he - he makes mis- takes. He is a little awkward, a little bunglesome in start- ing, but if you would could exercise just a little patience for a few days a day, I am sure he would please you." It was out at last. She was sure he would understand. It had cost her such an effort to try to make it plain with- out just coming out and saying he was halfwitted. She was not aware that in concluding she had done so appeal- ingly. He had observed it and his man's heart went out to her in her distress. He remembered then too, although he had on their first meeting forgotten that he had been told all about her brothers, and had also heard of her. "You need have no fear there, Miss Stewart," he wil- fully lied. "I am the most patient man in the world." He wondered then at himself, that he could lie so easily. His one great failing was his impatience, and he knew it. Because he did and felt that he tried to crush it, was his redeeming feature in this respect. But the words had light- ened her burden, and there was heightening of her color, as she spoke now with unfeigned delight: "Oh, that is indeed kind of you. I am so glad to hear you say so. Bill is a good hand everybody likes him after he has worked a while. It is because he is a little awkward and forgetful in the beginning that worries my father and me. So I'm glad you know now and will not be impatient." In truth while she did not know it, Jean was pleased with the prospect. He had not lived two years in the country, the new country, without having experienced the difficulty that comes with the usual hired man. The cla** of men, with the exception of a homesteader, who came to the country for work usually fell into the pastime of gambling and drinking which seemed to be contagious, and many were the griefs they gave those by whom they were em- ployed. And Jean Baptiste, now that she had made it plain regarding her brother, had something to say himself. "There is one little thing I should like to mention, Miss Stewart," he said with apparent seriousness. She caught her breath with renewed anxiety as she returned his look. In the next instant she was relieved, however, as he said: "You understand that I am baching, a bachelor, and the fare of bachelors is, I trust you will appreciate, not always the best." He paused as he thought of how she must feel after having seen the way he kept his house, and hoped that she could overlook the condition in which she knew he kept it. But if he was embarra**ed at the thought of it, it was not so with her. For her sympathy went out to him. She was conscious of how inconvenient it must be to bach, to live alone as he was doing, and to work so hard. "It is not always to hired men's liking to forego the meals that only women can prepare, and for that reason it is sometimes difficult for us to keep men." "Oh, you will not have to worry as to that, Mr. Bap- tiste," she a**ured him pleasantly. She caught her breath with something joyous apparently as she turned to him. "You see, we live almost directly between your two places, and my brother can stay home and save you that trouble and bother." She was glad that she could be of a**istance to him in some way, though it be indirectly. With sudden im- pulse, she turned to Mrs. Reynolds who had not inter- rupted: "It will be nice, now, won't it?" "Just dandy," the other agreed readily. "I am so glad we all three met here," she went on. "In meeting we have fortunately been of some service to each other. You will find Mr. Baptiste a fine fellow to work for. We let our boys go over and help him out when he's pushed, and we know he appreciates it to the fullest." She halted, turned now mischievously to Baptiste and cried: "We are always after Jean that he should marry. Why, just think what a good husband he would make some nice girl." She had found her topic, had Mrs. Reynolds. Of all topics, she preferred to jolly the single with getting married to anything else, so she went on with delight. "He goes off down to Chicago every winter and we wait to see the girl when he returns, but always he disappoints us." She affected a frown a moment before resuming: "It is certainly too bad that some good girl must do without a home and the happiness that is due her, while he lives there alone, having no comfort but what he gets when he goes visiting." She affected to appear serious and to have him feel it, while he could do nothing but grin awkwardly. "Oh, Mrs. Reynolds, you're hard on a fellow. My! Give him a chance. It takes two to make a bargain. I can't marry myself." He caught the eyes of Agnes who was enjoying his tender expression. Indeed the subject appealed to him, and he had found it to his liking. She blushed. She enjoyed the humor. "I suspect Mrs. Reynolds speaks the truth," she said with affected seriousness, but found it impossible to down the color in her flaming cheeks nevertheless. "Oh, but you two can jolly a fellow." He became seri- ous now as he went on: "But it isn't fair. There is no girl back in Chicago; there is no girl anywhere for me." He was successful in his affectation of self pity, and her feelings went out to him in her words that followed: "Now that is indeed, too bad, for him, Mrs. Reynolds, isn't it? Perhaps he is telling the truth. The girls in Chicago do not always understand the life out here, and cannot make one feel very much encouraged." She won- dered at her own words. But she went on nevertheless. "Even back in Indiana they do not understand the West. They are seem to be, so narrow, they feel that they are living in the only place of civilization on earth." Her logical statement took away the joke. They became serious. The store was filling and the crowd was pushing. So they parted. A few minutes later as Baptiste pa**ed down the street, he saw Peter Kaden coming from the commissioners' office. Across the way he observed Barr and Syfe stop and ex- change a few words. The next moment they went their two ways while he stood looking after them.