Uncle Noah's Christmas Inspiration by Leona Dalrymple


Main
- books.jibble.org



My Books
- IRC Hacks

Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare

External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd

books.jibble.org

Previous Page | Next Page

Page 4

When at length he sought the barn it was quite dark and the velvet
stillness of the night was dotted thickly with snowflakes. With
trembling fingers he opened the great barn-door, lit a queer old
lantern hanging just within, and hung it high upon a projecting hook.
The dim light revealed an antique carriage-house, in one corner of
which upon a rude, improvised roost of shingles the tyrant Job slept
the sleep of the just and the unjust rolled into one. As the lights
flickered upon his ruffled feathers the turkey emitted a throaty grunt
of disapproval and moved cumbrously around to avoid the light.

Uncle Noah addressed him with great firmness. "Now see yere, Massa
Job," he said, "tain't no use yoh puttin' on yoh high and mighty airs
to-night. I'se come to interview yoh, sah! Understand?"

Job majestically tucked his head beneath his wing as if to intimate his
indifference to the proposed interview.

Uncle Noah surveyed his ruffled back feathers with increased respect.
"So," he said, "yoh refuse me an interview, Massa Job Fairfax. Yoh is
sleepy, sah, dat's whut's got into yoh." He stroked the turkey with a
gentle hand, and, Job, resenting the indignity, withdrew his head from
the sheltering wing and pecked at the brown fingers, turning around
with a stately movement and facing the light once more with a sleepy
blink of his bright, beadlike eyes.

"Now, sah, we can talk," exclaimed the negro in delight. Drawing up an
old box he seated himself before the roost and beamed benevolently over
his glasses.

"Colonel done say yoh gobble under de winder 'bout suppertime," he
began confidentially. "When ol' Mis' cry 'bout young Massa Dick de
Colonel he jus' gotta scold 'bout sumthin', and as yoh is de mos'
important person about he jus' naturally selects yoh."

The turkey held his head upon one side, apparently in critical
admiration of the darky's quaint old scarfpin which resembled a grain
of corn mounted on a needle.

Uncle Noah, who had always had a faint mistrust of Job's attitude
toward this ancient Ethiopian heirloom, promptly removed it to a place
of safety. Then with a sudden resolve that no thought of the coming
tragedy should mar his last visit with his old companion he rose and
sought a dim, cobwebby corner of the barn, whence he returned with a
box.

"Dese yere, Job," he explained, "is de flowers whut young Massa Dick
have sent to his mother ebery holiday since he done went away from
yere. Mornin', I specs, when de Colonel sees 'em at her plate, he'll
declare yoh gobblin' sumthin' fierce under de winder again; he always
do."

The old negro broke the string of the box and removed a glowing mass of
purple orchids--odd, transient tenants of the crazy old barn. Job
suddenly reached over and pecked a blossom from its stem, ate the heart
with the dainty air of an epicure, and discarded the remainder with a
noise akin to a gobble of disgust.

Uncle Noah rose in scandalized protest. "Yoh good-foh-nothin',
miserable, sassy turkey!" he scolded, hastily removing the orchids;
"you sartinly is de mos' scan'lous, no-'count bird I ever knowed. Eat
one o' ol' Missus's orchards! Laws-a-massy, Job, yoh goes mos' too
far. Now, sah, yoh be quiet and listen to dis note I gets from young
Massa Dick," and he carefully deciphered the written lines for the
listening Job.


_Dear Uncle Noah_: I have written Foster and Company as usual to send
Mother's orchids. They should get there Christmas Eve. Will you put
them at her plate in the morning? I find they are the only suggestion
of me that the Colonel will allow in the house. I tried another letter
this week, but it came back unopened. Uncle Noah, give Mother "A Merry
Christmas" for me. DICK.


[Illustration: Now, sah, yoh be quiet and listen to dis note I gets
from young Massa Dick]


Uncle Noah laid the letter on his knee and drew from a worn leather
wallet several newspaper clippings. They were glowing reports, gleaned
from a stray newspaper, of the success of a young architect in a
distant northern city, one Richard Fairfax, Jr. Uncle Noah proudly
read them aloud for the hundredth time, interpolating little
explanatory remarks to the turkey, who gobbled threateningly but failed
to intimidate his tormentor.

Previous Page | Next Page


Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Sun 28th Apr 2024, 13:16