get at Handsome some more. Suddenly one of the older woodpeckers, a big cock with a long white shirt-tail, got up enough nerve to come down where we were, and he lit on top of Handsome’s head. He started pecking on Handsome for all he was worth. Handsome yelled so hard people all over town must have heard him.
“My sakes alive!” Ma cried out. “Just look at poor Handsome’s head!”
We had been so busy watching him slide down the tree that we had paid no attention to the way he looked. His clothes were all pecked to pieces, and his overalls and jumper hung around him in rags. But his head looked the strangest of all.
There were four or five big round spots, like woodpeckers’ holes in the sycamore, where every bit of Handsome’s hair had been pecked away.
Pa walked around Handsome in a circle, looking at him all over. Then he went up and felt two or three of the bald spots on Handsome’s head.
“Why didn’t you stay awake and keep those ’peckers off you, Handsome?” Pa said. “It was your own fault for climbing up there and going to sleep like that. It wouldn’t have happened if you had attended to your business up the tree like I told you. I didn’t send you up there to go to sleep.”
“You didn’t mention to me that you wanted me to stay awake, too,” Handsome said, shaking his head. “All you said was to go up there and keep them peckerwoods from making noise, Mr. Morris.”
My old man turned around and looked at Ma. They didn’t say anything to each other, and in a little while she went around the corner of the house towards the kitchen. We followed, but Ma didn’t say anything. She just put our plates down in front of us and helped me to grits and sausage.
VII. My Old Man and the Gypsy Queen
A THUNDERSTORM THAT HAD been threatening all morning came up while we were eating dinner, but it only sprinkled a little after all. As soon as the shower passed over, my old man got his hat and went down the street to the stores. The sun had come out now again, and in a little while it felt as if there had never been a drop of rain.
While I was sitting there waiting, I heard horses and wagons not far off. It sounded as if there were a lot of them, and the thud of their hooves and the creaking of harness leather came closer every minute. I got up and went out to the middle of the street where I could see better. About halfway to the next corner I saw my old man walking up the middle of the street, waving his arms almost every step, and right behind him were five or six two-horse teams pulling wagons with canvas-covered tops. My old man was waving his arms and trotting a little, and looking back over his shoulder every few steps.
When they got in front of our house, Pa stopped and waved his arms at the drivers, and they pulled the teams over to the side and hitched to the fence posts. During all the time they were tying up the horses, Pa was waving his arms and urging them to hurry. Then the drivers came running behind Pa while he led them around the corner of the house to the backyard. There were a lot of women and kids inside the covered wagons, and they began piling out, too. Soon it looked as if there were about twenty or thirty people coming towards the house. The women were dressed in long bright-colored skirts that touched the ground, and every one of them wore a red, or yellow, or bright green scarf over her head. The men were dressed like anybody else, except that they wore unbuttoned vests without coats. The kids didn’t have on much of anything at all. The grown people and the kids were as dark as Indians, and all of them had long black hair.
The men followed Pa around to the backyard, and the women scattered in all directions, some going up on the porch and some hurrying around to the backyard. All the kids, though, dived under the house right away. Our house, like everybody else’s in Sycamore, was built high off the ground so the air could circulate under the rooms and cool them off
“My sakes alive!” Ma cried out. “Just look at poor Handsome’s head!”
We had been so busy watching him slide down the tree that we had paid no attention to the way he looked. His clothes were all pecked to pieces, and his overalls and jumper hung around him in rags. But his head looked the strangest of all.
There were four or five big round spots, like woodpeckers’ holes in the sycamore, where every bit of Handsome’s hair had been pecked away.
Pa walked around Handsome in a circle, looking at him all over. Then he went up and felt two or three of the bald spots on Handsome’s head.
“Why didn’t you stay awake and keep those ’peckers off you, Handsome?” Pa said. “It was your own fault for climbing up there and going to sleep like that. It wouldn’t have happened if you had attended to your business up the tree like I told you. I didn’t send you up there to go to sleep.”
“You didn’t mention to me that you wanted me to stay awake, too,” Handsome said, shaking his head. “All you said was to go up there and keep them peckerwoods from making noise, Mr. Morris.”
My old man turned around and looked at Ma. They didn’t say anything to each other, and in a little while she went around the corner of the house towards the kitchen. We followed, but Ma didn’t say anything. She just put our plates down in front of us and helped me to grits and sausage.
VII. My Old Man and the Gypsy Queen
A THUNDERSTORM THAT HAD been threatening all morning came up while we were eating dinner, but it only sprinkled a little after all. As soon as the shower passed over, my old man got his hat and went down the street to the stores. The sun had come out now again, and in a little while it felt as if there had never been a drop of rain.
While I was sitting there waiting, I heard horses and wagons not far off. It sounded as if there were a lot of them, and the thud of their hooves and the creaking of harness leather came closer every minute. I got up and went out to the middle of the street where I could see better. About halfway to the next corner I saw my old man walking up the middle of the street, waving his arms almost every step, and right behind him were five or six two-horse teams pulling wagons with canvas-covered tops. My old man was waving his arms and trotting a little, and looking back over his shoulder every few steps.
When they got in front of our house, Pa stopped and waved his arms at the drivers, and they pulled the teams over to the side and hitched to the fence posts. During all the time they were tying up the horses, Pa was waving his arms and urging them to hurry. Then the drivers came running behind Pa while he led them around the corner of the house to the backyard. There were a lot of women and kids inside the covered wagons, and they began piling out, too. Soon it looked as if there were about twenty or thirty people coming towards the house. The women were dressed in long bright-colored skirts that touched the ground, and every one of them wore a red, or yellow, or bright green scarf over her head. The men were dressed like anybody else, except that they wore unbuttoned vests without coats. The kids didn’t have on much of anything at all. The grown people and the kids were as dark as Indians, and all of them had long black hair.
The men followed Pa around to the backyard, and the women scattered in all directions, some going up on the porch and some hurrying around to the backyard. All the kids, though, dived under the house right away. Our house, like everybody else’s in Sycamore, was built high off the ground so the air could circulate under the rooms and cool them off
Similar Books
