The Marrow of Tradition Read online

Page 11


  XI

  THE BABY AND THE BIRD

  When Ellis, after this rebuff, had disconsolately taken his leave,Clara, much elated at the righteous punishment she had inflicted uponthe slanderer, ran upstairs to the nursery, and, snatching Dodie fromMammy Jane's arms, began dancing gayly with him round the room.

  "Look a-hyuh, honey," said Mammy Jane, "you better be keerful wid datchile, an' don' drap 'im on de flo'. You might let him fall on his headan' break his neck. My, my! but you two does make a pretty pictur'!You'll be wantin' ole Jane ter come an' nuss yo' child'en some er desedays," she chuckled unctuously.

  Mammy Jane had been very much disturbed by the recent dangers throughwhich little Dodie had passed; and his escape from strangulation, in thefirst place, and then from the knife had impressed her as little lessthan miraculous. She was not certain whether this result had beenbrought about by her manipulation of the buried charm, or by the prayerswhich had been offered for the child, but was inclined to believe thatboth had cooperated to avert the threatened calamity. The favorableoutcome of this particular incident had not, however, altered thegeneral situation. Prayers and charms, after all, were merely temporarythings, which must be constantly renewed, and might be forgotten oroverlooked; while the mole, on the contrary, neither faded nor wentaway. If its malign influence might for a time seem to disappear, it wasmerely lying dormant, like the germs of some deadly disease, awaitingits opportunity to strike at an unguarded spot.

  Clara and the baby were laughing in great glee, when a mockingbird,perched on the topmost bough of a small tree opposite the nurserywindow, burst suddenly into song, with many a trill and quaver. Clara,with the child in her arms, sprang to the open window.

  "Sister Olivia," she cried, turning her face toward Mrs. Carteret, whoat that moment entered the room, "come and look at Dodie."

  The baby was listening intently to the music, meanwhile gurgling withdelight, and reaching his chubby hands toward the source of thispleasing sound. It seemed as though the mockingbird were aware of hisappreciative audience, for he ran through the songs of a dozen differentbirds, selecting, with the discrimination of a connoisseur and entireconfidence in his own powers, those which were most difficult and mostalluring.

  Mrs. Carteret approached the window, followed by Mammy Jane, who waddledover to join the admiring party. So absorbed were the three women in thebaby and the bird that neither one of them observed a neat top buggy,drawn by a sleek sorrel pony, passing slowly along the street before thehouse. In the buggy was seated a lady, and beside her a little boy,dressed in a child's sailor suit and a straw hat. The lady, with awistful expression, was looking toward the party grouped in the openwindow.

  Mrs. Carteret, chancing to lower her eyes for an instant, caught theother woman's look directed toward her and her child. With a glance ofcold aversion she turned away from the window.

  Old Mammy Jane had observed this movement, and had divined the reasonfor it. She stood beside Clara, watching the retreating buggy.

  "Uhhuh!" she said to herself, "it's huh sister Janet! She ma'ied adoctuh, an' all dat, an' she lives in a big house, an' she's be'n roun'de worl' an de Lawd knows where e'se: but Mis' 'Livy don' like de sighter her, an' never will, ez long ez de sun rises an' sets. Dey ce't'nlydoes favor one anudder,--anybody mought 'low dey wuz twins, ef dey didn'know better. Well, well! Fo'ty yeahs ago who'd 'a' ever expected tersee a nigger gal ridin' in her own buggy? My, my! but I don' know,--Idon' know! It don' look right, an' it ain' gwine ter las'!--you can'tmake me b'lieve!"

  Meantime Janet, stung by Mrs. Carteret's look,--the nearest approach shehad ever made to a recognition of her sister's existence,--had turnedaway with hardening face. She had struck her pony sharply with the whip,much to the gentle creature's surprise, when the little boy, who wasstill looking back, caught his mother's sleeve and exclaimedexcitedly:--

  "Look, look, mamma! The baby,--the baby!"

  Janet turned instantly, and with a mother's instinct gave an involuntarycry of alarm.

  At the moment when Mrs. Carteret had turned away from the window, andwhile Mammy Jane was watching Janet, Clara had taken a step forward, andwas leaning against the window-sill. The baby, convulsed with delight,had given a spasmodic spring and slipped from Clara's arms.Instinctively the young woman gripped the long skirt as it slippedthrough her hands, and held it tenaciously, though too frightened for aninstant to do more. Mammy Jane, ashen with sudden dread, uttered aninarticulate scream, but retained self-possession enough to reach downand draw up the child, which hung dangerously suspended, head downward,over the brick pavement below.

  "Oh, Clara, Clara, how could you!" exclaimed Mrs. Carteretreproachfully; "you might have killed my child!"

  She had snatched the child from Jane's arms, and was holding him closelyto her own breast. Struck by a sudden thought, she drew near the windowand looked out. Twice within a few weeks her child had been in seriousdanger, and upon each occasion a member of the Miller family had beeninvolved, for she had heard of Dr. Miller's presumption in trying toforce himself where he must have known he would be unwelcome.

  Janet was just turning her head away as the buggy moved slowly off.Olivia felt a violent wave of antipathy sweep over her toward thisbaseborn sister who had thus thrust herself beneath her eyes. If she hadnot cast her brazen glance toward the window, she herself would not haveturned away and lost sight of her child. To this shameless intrusion,linked with Clara's carelessness, had been due the catastrophe, sonarrowly averted, which might have darkened her own life forever. Shetook to her bed for several days, and for a long time was cold towardClara, and did not permit her to touch the child.

  Mammy Jane entertained a theory of her own about the accident, by whichthe blame was placed, in another way, exactly where Mrs. Carteret hadlaid it. Julia's daughter, Janet, had been looking intently toward thewindow just before little Dodie had sprung from Clara's arms. Might shenot have cast the evil eye upon the baby, and sought thereby to draw himout of the window? One would not ordinarily expect so young a woman topossess such a power, but she might have acquired it, for this verypurpose, from some more experienced person. By the same reasoning, themockingbird might have been a familiar of the witch, and the two mighthave conspired to lure the infant to destruction. Whether this were soor not, the transaction at least wore a peculiar look. There was no usetelling Mis' 'Livy about it, for she didn't believe, or pretended notto believe, in witchcraft and conjuration. But one could not be toocareful. The child was certainly born to be exposed to greatdangers,--the mole behind the left ear was an unfailing sign,--and noprecaution should be omitted to counteract its baleful influence.

  While adjusting the baby's crib, a few days later, Mrs. Carteret foundfastened under one of the slats a small bag of cotton cloth, about halfan inch long and tied with a black thread, upon opening which she founda few small roots or fibres and a pinch of dried and crumpled herbs. Itwas a good-luck charm which Mammy Jane had placed there to ward off thethreatened evil from the grandchild of her dear old mistress. Mrs.Carteret's first impulse was to throw the bag into the fire, but onsecond thoughts she let it remain. To remove it would give unnecessarypain to the old nurse. Of course these old negro superstitions wereabsurd,--but if the charm did no good, it at least would do no harm.