Rensselaer Union, Volume 9, Number 46, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 2 August 1877 — MARY ANN’S MIND. [ARTICLE]

MARY ANN’S MIND.

The lobster lovea the lobater-pot. The mackerel lovea the aea, Aud I, I love but thee, Mary Ann; Mary Ann, Mary Ann; Mary Ann, Mary Ann; Mary Ann, 1 love but theel Jake Hazard shouted out this snatch of sea song at the top of his pleasant voice, ss he pushed his old whale boat off the beach, on the reluctant rollers, and at last launched her in the water. “That’s tellm’, ain’t it?” inquired Hosy Long, with a comic cast of his eye across the boat at Jake, as he shoved at her other side with brawny shoulders and deep breaths of effort. “Haw, haw!” roared Jake. “Ain’t you smart, Hosy ? 1 ’xpcct you can see through a millstone’s quick’s the next manl” nosy grinned horribly; he was not a brilliant creature, but he could catch fish better than any man on the shore, and when you go blue-fishing that’s the sort of companion you want. Now, everybody in Sandy Creek knew Jake Hazara was mortally in love with Mary Anu Tucker; he had made no secret of it, and she, being a born coquette, treated Jake in cat-and-mouse fashion, till he was as nearly crazy as a hard-head-ed young fellow with no nerves and a mighty digestion can possibly be. If 1 said Mary Ann was the prettiest girl in the town I should do her great injustice; for she was the only pretty girl there; the two or three tannea, freckled, good-natured daughters of the Hazards, and Tuckers, and Conklins, who were “the girls” of Sandy Creek, never pretended to be pretty; they went their way in peace, dug clams, baked short-cakes, made chowder, and darned stockings,' undisturbed by lovers or rivalry; in due time somebody .jp&rried them, because everybody couldp marryHary Ann, and ffiefeaffer they lived their lives out as they might, but at Mary Ann’s feet, sooner or later, every young man in the town bowed down and fell. And then she was “everlastin’ smart.” Nobody kept so clean a house as she did for her father, nobody made such sea-pie, chowder, or clam-fritters. She fried fish to such crisp perfection that the lighthouse people always wanted to stop at Sam Tucker’s when they had city company and took them out fishing, but Miss Mary Ann did not approve of “ keepin’ tavern,” she said, so the light-keeper had thereafter to try his own nsh. Then she was exquisitely neat; o virtue rare among a fishing people, familiar with the unsavory produce of their nets, as heads, tails or shells lie about the doors, fiavorous, if not ornamental, till the very hens’ eggs have a fishy flavor. Old Sam’s clothes were patched with such neat patches, the buttons so invariable, the red shirt always so bright, that he was a matter of wonder and admiration all along shore. Aud if Mary Ann did her housework, and scoured her tins and floor and weeded her posy bed, protected by a big crash bile apron and a slat-sided sunbonnet, when the apron came off and she sat down to knit or sew, or strolled on the beach in the afternoon, then she was always arrayed in a neat and pretty calico gown, or a deep-blue gingham; always with some white tiling about her round throat, not the least shade of fashion, to be sure, but a clean and pure ruflie, or a queer old collar clear-starched to perfection, or a strip of coarse lace tied in such a trim bow. No wonder Mary Ann had so many loveis. Perhaps no wonder that she did not choose one. It is pleasant as well as provident to have a good many strings to your bow, and when Jake Hazard had to go blue-fishing in earnest, not for fun, she did not want to be crowded with dead fish and wet lines and two or three men, into a dirty boat all day long, there was always Joe Tucker or Ephraim Conklin to go after berries with her, or Borne other Conklin, or Tuckeror Hazard, to take her crabbing, or shoot peeps for her, rewarded thereafter by a supper of crabs, or peep pic, savory meats which Mary Ann perfectly understood preparing. So she really never seemed to care about marrying anybody. She had her father to look after, and time enough to enjoy her youth and herbeauty and her adorers. But all this profited the adorers nothing. She eluded any grasp that mighf fix her anywhere, like a sagacious swallow that will wheel and flit about your head if you sit still enough, but if you move hand or foot darts off into space with a derisive twitter, and is seen no more. So the lovers gradually dropped off. They would have given their very best possessions to move her careless heart, but it was evident that all the inducements they could offer were useless. They were practical beings, men wanting a home and a wife to keep the home and them tidy and thrifty. Sentiment being put out of the ?luestion, they turned to the creed of “ the at-faced curate Edward Bull:” A pretty face 1* good, and this la good To have a dame Tudoore that trims us ap, And keepe as tight, finding plenty of good honest girls in the scattered village, less coy and scornful than the beauty of Sandy Creek. But Jake Hazard remained faithfhl; his nature was strong and true. The quips and cranks of his fun and good-humor were but tho crest of foam bells on a forceful and persistent depth, a constant and mighty tide setting toward one shore. Perhaps Mary Ann did not perceive this fact {.perhaps, she thought him gay and - careless, as young men are apt to be. It certainly never crossed her mind, as a real ana earnest question, whether she meant to marry Jake; or even if he meant to marry her, but on his part the matter was thoroughly settled, though till to-day he had never spoken of it. “Ginger! this here’s sport, ain’t it?” sung out Hosy Long. “Pretty good, t” Jake shouted book to him, setflßg his teeth together in a short, sharp contest with the biggest blue fish of the haul, who in another minute lay flapping and bouncing at Hosy’s feet — — . ..... “ Dang it all! that’s a most monsterous fish, Jake.” That’s the sockdolager, old feller.” “ Well, naow,” said Hosy, keeping the boat trimmed carefully while Jake rebaited his lino, “ that are oie would bp tasty for supper, I tell you, briled on the coals, ’nd buttered up, long o’ a good shortcake ’nd some store tea.” Hosy passed and gloated on the fine fat

fish with blinking grpen eyes and broad red face, that waa the picture of good humor. Thau he took to speech again: “Es you’d got an ola woman now, Jake, to your house, I expect you an’ me would have a fust-rate supper for one time, wouldn't we?” “ I reckon,” answered Jake,' feeling on his taut line to see if it were stretched by the ebbing tide or a pulling fish. “An’ what’s more, Hosy, I’m goto’ to hevahouse ’n home afore I’m gray, I tell ye.” “Well, now! you bes What does Mary Ann say to thet sarcumstancef” “ Bhe’s got to say somethin’ afore long. I’m tired o’ foolin’,” muttered Jake between his teeth, giving a vicious jerk to his line, that was raging up and down at the mercy of another fish, which, however, he speedily hauled in and added to the flapping heap. “I say, Hosy, ’tain’t no good to flounder roand on' a hook. I’d get off on’t es I tore my jaw out, soon’s I found ’twss for sport folks was ketchin’ me; biznoss’s another matter.” “Wall, wall, she’s a young cretur. Mebbe she dono what she does want.” “That ain’t my sitovation. 1 know what I want enny way, and I’ll hev it or let it go, smack ana smooth, afore new moon comes agin, or my name ain’t Jake Hazard.” Hosy’s simple soul quivered at the stern and almost fierce energy of Jake’s declaration. Not that he was afraid himself, but he saw breakers ahead as he would have phrased it, storms of passion and excitement, an end to quiet fishing bouts with Jake, lazy, pleasant strolls alter blueberries with Mary Ann, and cosy suppers at Bam Tucker’s. But Hosy’s lazy longing for peace could find no work, no wreck or woe in Jake's affairs, though he made an effort to “save the pieces,” in an interview with Mary Ann that very night, being deputed, as soon as they came in with their spoils, to carry the big fish up to Bam Tucker’s as a present from Jake. Mary Ann met him with beaming eyes. “ Well, I declare, thet’s jest what I wanted, for Aunt Bemanthy’s come to supper, ’nd Uncle Royal, and I hadn’t a special thing for ’em, bread, ’n butter ’n sass, ’n dried halibut, that’s all.” “ This is the king o’ the crowd,” said Hosy, looking at the beautiful silver-bel-lied, blue-backed creature with honest admiration. “ I guess he made ’em fly down below. He come up with a rush now, I tell ye, but Jake was too much for him. Jake’s a masterful critter as ever I see. Bay, Mary Ann,” and here his voice fell into an ominous whisper, “you look out for Jake. Counsel with me now. Es Ibe a poor feller I’ve got sense into me. You let Jake hev his head gifier’lto. ’Twill be a vast better for you es you do.” - • “ What air you a talkin’ about, Hosy Long?” retorted Mary Ann, with an air of genuine astonishment. “ Oh, nothin’, nothin’ much, nothin’ pertikler, only ’f I was you I wouldn’t be the one to get ath’art o’ Jake’s hawse, not es ” “ I’d jist hev you to know, sir,’’ snapped Mary Ann, the quick color rising, “angry and brave,” in her glowing cheeks, “ I’d jist hev you to know that J&keHsrsft}'# Debts' to me, nor I ain’t goin’ to cotton to no man because' fie'!? masterful. 1 guess I can be masterful myself, if I’m a mind to, so there.” With which shake out of her flag she slammed the door in Hosy’s face, and that dejected being bewailed himself plaintively enough. “Oli, my! I’ve gone an* done it now, es I never did afore. I hope to glory ’n goodness she won’t never tell Jake. I’m darned to thunderation es I don’t believe she will 1 Oh, J eerus’lem 1 ” And Hosy betook himself to the fish house, scratching his sandy poll ruefully as he went, but resolved to say nothing to Jake, and to doing everything he might be asked thereafter with wholesale and persistent denial. Yet after all he had;done Jake an unconscious service, for Mary Ann was fully and fairly brought to ask herself if what she had just now said in her sudden anger was really the truth. Suppose Hosy tola Jake what she did say, and he took it for granted that she really did not care for him at all? It was a small point to rankle in Mary Ann’s mind, but it was the point of a wedge. She cooked the big blue fish for supper with her usual skill, aud while its crisp brown surface and creamy flakes of flesh were being disposed of with sundry flattering remarks both to fisherman and cook, she fretted inwardly a little, whiie she was pleased enough with the commendations. But Mary Ann was not metaphysical —there are some benefits after all in a want of education; it you do not know how to analyze your emotions, and take your "inwardness” to pieces as a botanist does a flower, you are spared much futile speculation into profitless subjects, much soul-wearying nnd unhappy consciousness, and may live and die even as a blossom in simple trust and peace. Mary Ann went about her work with no special self-torment after the first uneasy idea of Jake and his possibilities had entered her mind. If she thought of him a little oftener and remembered what Uncle R’yal had said about “ them Hazards,” as a family, and how Aunt Seman. thy had eched “ Yis; they’re dreadful reliable folks, aUers was; Gran’ther Hazard was one of the smartest men ever ye see. Good for a fishin’ bout up to ninety year old; spry as a cricket; didn’t hey no sickness so to speak durin’ his lifetime, an’ filed of a shockanum palsy to the last.” Why, all this was what she knew before, so she thought no more about it the next day, but hurried her work over, and putting on her hat, took a basket and set her face inland toward a hill where wild strawberries grew thick and sweet. There was a long walk before her across the fields, and the sandy lanes were too heavy to choose as a path when the short turf lay crisply in the lots, so Bhe stepped over'the low wall of loose stone, ana thereby came within the range of Jake’s vision just as he dragged his boat up the beach, having been across the bay to the lighthouse. He overtook her soon with his long strides, and Mary Ann was glad enough to have company. With a certain native tact, Jake forbore to intrade his passion on her notice till the basket was filled with fragrant berries, and they sat down a moment for rest on a fallen tree. Jake’s heart burned within him. It was not. his way to put off a crisis, to.mince matters; he was full of curt courage and resolve, and now he had business of mortal import to him to settle with Mary Ann, he neither could nor would delay it, so he broke the silence somewhat abruptly: “ Mary Ann,” said he, “I suppose you’ve seen quite a spell that I like you fust rate. I’ve spoke it loud enough, in actions, but I know folks has got to use words sometimes es they want answers, and I do want one the wustway. Will you marry me, Mary Ann ?” The hot color rushed up to the girl’s face. She was startled, and a traitorous echo in her own heart startled her more than Jake’s words. She had a bunch of sweet fern in her hand, and she began to pull the odorous leaves off one by one, as an excuse for keeping her eyes cast down. “ Will you? Say!” repeated Jake. “We—ell, I dono’, Jake. I haln’t thought o’ such a thing.” The coquettish nature, was uppermost now. Her lips curled at the corners with a wicked little smile, her eyes sparkled, and her voice grew arch. “ Time you did,” retorted Jake. " I’ve been a bangin’ round ye this two year, ’s though the sun rose ’nd sot in your face, ’nd I can’t stan’ it no longer. I want to k»ow suthln’ for saartin, Mary -Ann.” “Well—you aee,” slowly"pulling the

fern leaves, “ I don’t—know—l haven’t made Up—my mind yet—about marryin’." “ Make It up now, then.” “ Mercy to me, Jake Hazard. What an idear—no, sir; I ain’t a goin’ to hurry for nobody. I can llvo ’thout gettin’ married I guess, efyou can’t.” " I didn’t say I couldn’t,” growled Jake. “ I don’t calkerlate to ale tor nobody: but I sh&’n’t marry nobody but you, Mary Ann Tucker, and I want to know es I’m goin’ to do that.” Mary Ann gave a little laugh. It was not heartless, though it seemedso to Jake, who was An dead earnest. It was merely an outlet of the inner excitement she really felt, and she followed it up with the truth, though she spoke it with a certain levity. “ I don’t see how you’re going to know when I don’t know myself. I told ye I hadn’t made up my mind.” “ Well, how long is it goin’ to take ye to do it?” ventured the wrathful lover, who longed to shake her soundly for her naughtiness, thoroughly misunderstanding her, as men will misunderstand women till the day of judgment, especially if they are in love with them. “ I don’t know that,” she answered. Jake controlled his rising rage manfully. “ Well, then,” said he, rising, and looking down at her, “ I give ye notice, Mary Ann, I shall keep askin’ till I find out; onless I’m onlucky enough to b’lieve you don’t want to know yerself.” Bhe laughed again, but made no answer. They waited silently down the hill together, and parted at her door. Mary Ann meant to have asked him in to tea, for she was about to prepare that barbarous dainty, a strawberry shortcake, for supper, Aunt Hemanthy having brought down from her farm a pail of cream the day before. But Jake had unwittingly deprived himself of the feast; and even if Mary Ann had not been too disturbed to ask him, both luscious berries and unctuous shortcake would have been gall and bitterness to his lips, for he was terribly disappointed. Perhaps he would not have been so miserable if she had said “ No,” finally. There are some natures to whom suspense is worse than despair; and his was one. Mary Ann, fortunately for herself, had an absorbing object in view, beside her housework. There was to be a clam-bake at Point Peter od the Fourth of July; at which all the Village of Bandy Creek, even to the babies in arms, expected to be pres ent; and long ago she had promised Jake to go in his boat; not alone, for Hosy Long and Anny Hazard, and Joe Conklin and his wife, were of that boatload, as well as her father; so that her late interview with Jake need not embarrass her on this occasion. But she had to make a new dress, and some fresh ruffles, both necessitating a drive to Natick Pier, the nearest village; and then the shaping and sewing of the festive attire at home, after it was bought, occupied her head and hands for at least two weeks, in the intervals of housework. But Jake thought of her all the time, on sea and land; dreamed of her by night, and sung about her by day—when he was alone, and far enough from shore to be unheard. Nor did he leave her quite at peace; for once, as she sat on the aoorstep busily stitching at her gown, the sunset guifi'E*-fcw Jburnished hair, and deepening the hue of her brigiW .cheeks and lips, Jake came up from the shore, and suddenly darkened those level western rays with stern and sad aspect. “Have you made up your mind, Mary Ann?” he asked her distinctly and sorrowfully. Mary Ann was vexed; this was too much. Bhe snapped back pertly enough, “No, I haven’t! and I shan’t never if you’re a goin’ to pester me so!” “ Yes you will,” was the deliberate reply, much iu the tone of a school-master to a naughty boy, and Jake walked away. If he had tamed to look back he would have seen her crying bitterly, half with rage, it is true, but at least half because he walked away. Another week went by, and one hot afternoon Mary Ann and three or four of her friends baa gone down to bathe. The girls at Sandy Creek knew how to swim, as well as the boys; and these extempore mermaids liked to splash about in the fresh coolness of the water almost as well as it they had been the genuine kind, though there was nothing siren in their aspect. They had bathed and dressed, and were going home from the retired little cove which was set apart for their use, when Jake Hazard appeared, carrying an armful of fishing tackle, bait, scoop and lines, and a big basket of fish. His way home lay by Bam Tucker’s door, while the rest went further down the beach. Mary Ann walked on a little before him, her long, dripping tresses hanging to her knees, coiling and curling, as the salt breeze blew them abont her,ln a thousand darkly shining rings, and her white, shapelv ankles betrayed by the short skirt she wore, for the day was so hot she had gone barefoot to the beach. They went along in silence, till, just as they reached the door, Jake said, in a low voice, perfectly audible, however, to this one hearer: “ Mary Ann, have you made up your mind?” Mary Ann was exasperated. Who would not have been? She faced Jake with the look of a creature at bay in her dark eyes. “No, sir I and I never’ll find it till you stop pesterin’; therel” Jake looked at her, toll-faced, with a determined expression that almost daunted her. “I never shall stop —till I know,” he answered gravely; and went his way. Mary Ann was angry; but she was also scared. When a man falls back on his masculine supremacy, the eternal fitness of tnings demands that a woman shall give way. And she does, though she does not always show it. Mary Ann began to feel, rather than to think, that Jake was, in her fashion of speech, “the biggest,” and from that moment began to find out that she loved him. But ao you think She told him so? The Fourth of July came at lastbright, hot, beaming, as holiday weather should be—and at nine o’clock Mary Ann’s fire was out; her house was in order ; her big basket of bread, butter, cold coffee and pickles neatly packed, her father sitting on the doorstep, and she beside him, waiting for the boat. A pretty picture they made—Bam in his Sunday clothes, with his coat over his arm, his spotless shirt-sleeves scarce whiter than the silvery hair that showed under his brown felt hat, and his wrinkled, kindly face and keen, dark eye pleasant as the day itself; and Mary Ann, in the new pink-and-white caiico, her pretty head rising from a full, soft ruffle, clear and snowy, and her old black hat smartened up with a white mnaltn scarf about tile crown, and a bunch of pinks from the posy bed fastened in the bow, their clean, spicy breath perfuming the air about her. Jake Hazard looked at her with adoring eyes. His mind was made up even more than usual, if that were possible; for he had devised a plan, to be carried out that very day, whicn should, once for all, end his suspense; since he too had concluded, in the spirit of the old distich: He either fear* hit fete too much. Or hit desert te email. Who fears to put it to the touch, __ To win or lose It all. Certainly Mary Ann would not have gone toward her fate—as well as the boat —with such a happy and smiling face, had she known what was before her. The journey over to Point Peter was delightful. A fight breeze filled the sail, and flapped the long red pennant above it. There was plenty of fan and laughter; Jake himself seemed aa gay as tne rest: and Mary Ann owned to herself, as she looked at him furtively from under her broad hat, that he waa “ awful good-

looking I” And leaa prejudiced observers might agree with her. They landed at Point Peter in the best of humors; and immediately the preparations for the clam-bake began, for the rest of the company were there before them. For a wonder sll went right; there were no mishaps, no vexations. *nm simple fisher-folk. In their Srimltive fashion, enjoyed the rare holiay to the top of thtelr bent. After dinner, Jake proposed to Mary Ann that they ahould take a row-boat ana go up Natick Bay to Blueberry Island, where the low blueberries, already dotted the turf with dwarf brush loaded with turquoise spheres. “If Hosy and Anny will go,” said. Mary Ann. Bo Hosy was sent after Anny, and Mary Ann walked down to the boat with Jake, and sitting down on one of the seats, with her face shoreward, to watch for the others, Jake, being behind her, silently put the oars in place, and with one sudden sweep of his powerful arms 'drove it off. Mary Aon cried out. “ well,” tranquilly replied Jake, “ we might as well be rowin’ round till they some.” But Mary Ann observed that, instead of “ rowin’ round,” the boat headed straight for the mouth of the bay, and remonstrated accordingly. “ Well, well, Mary Ann, I’ll just putye ashore ou the Rock, ’nd go back and fetch ’em along, es you say so. You’ve always hankered to go onto the Rock, you said, when we was cornin’ over.” The Rock was a little bare islet, with one dwarf cedar on it, stunted and spread by driving rain and furious winds into the rough shape of an umbrella, and commonly reputea to be a wonderful place for pretty pebbles. Mary Ann cared less for the pebbles than for getting out of a tete-a-tete with Jake, so she jumped at the proposition. Now the Rock was quite out of sight ot Point Peter, and full a mile away. Jake drew his prow close to the abrupt edge of the islet, where one upward step safely landed his passenger, drove the boat a single stroke’s length off and then, deliberately drawing in his oars, spoke as follows: “ Now, Mary Ann, I’ve bobbed at the end of your string as long as is reasonable ; I can’t do it no more. There you be, and here I be; and here both of us ’ll stay till you’ve finally made up your mind." Mary Ann was dumb. She was stunned for a moment; then she was angry. “How dare you, Jake Hazard!” “Well, you see, I’ve got to a pitch where I darst do a’most anything.” Mary Ann looked at his set mouth, his steady, resolute eyes, his air of stern selfpossession, and felt that he spoke the simple truth. But it was not in her to give up. She saw, or rather felt, very plainly, that she did not want to lose him; that she liked him venr, very much; but not the less did she feel rebellious and outraged by this extraordinary proceeding. “It’s fair to tell you one thing, Mary Ann,” he began again. “If you fln’lly make up your mind ag’inst me, I shall never fault you for ’t. I shall clear out o’ these parts for the future. I couldn’t stay here.” An unconscious tremor and sadness was in these last words; and Mary Ann felt it. Bhe saw, in a flash of imagination, what Sandy Creek would be without Jake. Indeed, all her own life! But eCfiff-JfeMLjlid not move her outwardto: she sat quite'sfrft-'flA the stone; she forgot all about the pebblef] she only thought of Jake’s demand, and resolved" never to yield to it, if she sat there a week. And she miglithave sat there long enough to discomfit her jailor and herself both, had not a certain sound apEhed her ears—for the wind had sudveered round to the east—a dip of y-pulling oars. And in a deep, nasal voice, which she recognized as Hosy Long’s, sounded a ’long shore ditty, coming nearer and nearer, from the direction of Point Peter. Women are “ cur’us creeturs,” as Hosy was wont to remark; whether it was the terror of approaching observers, or the ludicrous drawl of Hosy’s song, or the weary waiting and heat, or some fierce and subtler influence she knew not how to name, suddenly Mary Ann’s heart gave way without her will or wish—she broke down utterly, and, with an unconcealed sob of agitation, stretched out both hands to Jake. “ Come!” she said, and when Jake took her in his strong arms and lifted her into the boat like a big baby, he knew from the soft, shy look in her beautiful eyes and the lingering of her arm upon his shoulder, that Mary Ann had made up her mind at last, and that he needn’t go away forever. But before either of them could speak, Hosyappeared round the corner. “ Wa’al,” shouted he, “ this is kinder upsettin’; why couldn’t ye wait for a fel ler?” “ We- did wait a minute,” laughed Jake. “We was cornin’ back for ye. Mary Ann wanted to land on the Rock to look for somethin she lost t’other day.” “ Did she find it?” asked the interested Hosy. “No—l did,” dryly replied Jake, and Mary Ann looked over the gunwale into the water. She has always professed to Jake that she never did or would forgive him, but Jake only laughs, knowing very well that there is no happier or sweeter wife and mother on all the shore than Mary Ann Hazard, and that in her secret heart she is very glad he made her know her own mind, however he did it!—Rase Terry Cooke, in Galaxy.