Read Online Spencer's Mountain by Jr. Earl Hamner - Free Book Online

Clay-Boy. “I thought maybe I’d do some studyen if you didn’t need me.”
    â€œYou had better study then,” said Clay. His mind was on a pile of fieldstone he had noticed at the foot of the mountain, and he was eager to collect it with the idea that one day they might become the fireplace and chimney of the house.
    But after breakfast, as he stepped out of the back door and looked up at the sky, his mind was filled with the vision of a certain fishing hole he frequented on Rockfish River. He could see the slow strong movement of the deep slate-coloredwater, dappled with sun and shadow and fairly jumping with carp and bass and catfish. The fact that he had announced that he would work on the house nagged him for a moment, but then he answered the voice of his conscience with the excuse that a nice mess of bass for the supper table would please Olivia. Besides, he had worked hard all week and deserved a few hours of peace and rest in some quiet place.
    In the end he compromised and decided that he would take his rod and reel and stop by the river until he had rested and then continue on to the foot of the mountain and the fieldstone.
    On the back porch he went to the shelf where he kept his fishing equipment and took down his rod and reel.
    â€œYou are the first man I ever saw build a house with fishen tackle,” teased Olivia through the screen door.
    â€œWhat do you know about builden a house, woman?” Clay laughed.
    â€œI don’t know much,” replied Olivia, “but every one I ever saw built was put up with hammer and nails. This must be a right funny house you’re slappen together up there on the mountain. I’ve never seen you carry hammer or nails away from here yet.”
    â€œThere ain’t a thing to nail together yet, old woman,” he said. “I been spenden all my time on the basement. You want a place to keep your canned goods, don’t you?”
    â€œI got me a place to store my canned goods, and sometimes I think you’d be smarter to work on this place than spenden all your time on that castle up there.”
    â€œThat’s what it’s goen to be all right,” he retorted. “A castle fit for a royal-butted king. And you’ll change your tune once you see it.”
    â€œYou watch how you talk, Clay Spencer. There’s innocent young children around this place, and I’m doen my best to make Christians out of them.”
    â€œNobody ever made me into a Christian, and look what a tall dog I turned out to be,” Clay teased her.
    â€œHumphf!” she said with pretended disgust and turned into the house. Clay laid down his fishing tackle, eased the kitchen door open and grabbed Olivia up in his arms. Shestruggled with pretended anger, but he held her so her feet could not reach the floor. Her cries of outrage mingled with the children’s howls of delight as Clay danced Olivia around and around the room, alternately kissing and tickling her. Finally, out of breath, he put her on the floor again and she rearranged her clothing and her hair.
    â€œYou old fool,” she cried.
    â€œThat woman is plumb crazy about me,” Clay laughed. “I wish I had twenty more just like her.”
    â€œPick her up again, Daddy,” the children cried.
    Clay started after her, but Olivia ran out of the room.
    â€œY’all be good babies,” Clay called to the children. He kissed them all and went up through the back gate. As he came out on the road, he met his mother-in-law, Ida Italiano.
    â€œWhere you gallivanten off to, Miss Ida?” he called.
    â€œUp to the Baptist parsonage, Clay,” she replied. “The Ladies Aid Society is cleanen it up for the new preacher.”
    â€œThat’s a fact?” said Clay, falling in step with Ida. “Livy did mention there’s a new preacher comen in.”
    â€œThey tell me he’s a powerful good speaker,” said Ida. “You ought to come