was open, the heat of the day rushing into the house through the
screen. A young boy ran past on the other side of the door. He stopped and
stared as Daniel dropped the gunnysack on the porch and carefully placed the
banjo beside it.
The
youngster, about five years old, turned and ran yelling through the house.
"Mama,
Mama, there's an old tramp on the front porch!"
A
dark heavyset woman in a print dress hurried through an arch beyond the front
room. She scowled as she came to the door, wiping her hands on her apron.
"Shush,
Edward, you mama got a headache."
The
child pointed to Daniel. "But Daddy said no more bums, Miss Anna. No more
damn beggars."
Daniel
flinched. If any son of mine cussed, he'd get a good shellacking behind the
woodshed and his mouth washed out with laundry soap.
But
he put the thought behind him and touched the brim of his cap.
"Howdy,
ma'am. I wonder if you—"
The
maid thrust the boy behind her skirt and sized up the stranger through the
screen. She glanced behind him at the gunnysack, which lay on the porch like a
tired old hound.
"We
don't give handouts. Mr. Cornwallis, he say no more beggars, tramps, thieves,
or preachers."
Daniel,
not to be turned away before he'd stated his purpose, nodded politely.
"That's
very wise, ma'am. They'll eat you out of house and home if you let 'em."
"I'm
glad you understand," the maid replied as Edward peeked out from behind.
"Now you better—"
"Yes,
yes, of course," Daniel said. "I better introduce myself. I ain't no
ordinary tramp or bum, ma'am." He indicated the tools in their various
places in his overalls. "As a matter of fact, I'm just a simple tradesman.
A cabinetmaker looking for work."
She
shook her head. "We got cabinets."
"Of
course you do. But I ain't selling cabinets. I'm not just a carpenter, but an
all-purpose handyman. You got anything broke? I'll fix it for a drop of milk, a
sandwich, or a cold spud."
"No."
She backed away from the door. "Nothing broken here."
"Much
obliged, then. Sorry I bothered you."
As
he turned to go, he kicked the screen door and the top hinge fell out.
"Look
what you did!" cried the woman.
Daniel
removed his cap.
"I'm
sorry, ma'am." He shook his head. "You better have the mister look at
it when he gets home."
He
stuck his cap back on, picked up the gunnysack and banjo, and started down the
steps. Smiling to himself, he placed a foot exactly so on a certain board, just
enough to tip it.
"This
here step needs fixin', before someone breaks his neck."
"Wait!"
Anna called as he started down the walk.
He
turned around.
"You
could fix it," she said.
"Reckon
I could. But you already said you don't need nothing fixed."
Anna
stepped onto the porch to inspect the damage, then went back inside. "I'll
make you a bite to eat while you fix the door and step."
She
disappeared, going back toward the kitchen as Edward ran after her.
"But
Miss Anna, Daddy said no more damn tramps."
"Hush
up, child. You wake you po' mama. She spank you little britches for talking
nasty."
"But
Miss Anna, he—"
"Shhh!
I gotta tell you again, you get the switch."
Daniel
set down his gunnysack. He laid the banjo against it and reached in his bib
pocket. He grinned as he pulled out the nails and screws he'd removed from the
step and screen door earlier.
When
Edward came outside to watch, Daniel said, "You can help me if you want,
sonny." He laid a nail in the boy's hand. "You just hold that there
nail till I want it again. Don't dare let go of it."
Edward
clutched the nail in his fist and climbed up in the swing. "Yes, sir, I
won't lose it."
Daniel
went to work, humming to the squeak of the noisy swing as he reached for his
hammer and screwdriver. He held the door in place and positioned a screw in one
of the hinge holes.
"What's
in your sack?" Edward asked.
Daniel
glanced at the boy.
"Dead
chickens."
Edward
eyed the gunnysack. "What are they doing in there?"
Daniel
screwed the screw in the wood and got another from his pocket,
screen. A young boy ran past on the other side of the door. He stopped and
stared as Daniel dropped the gunnysack on the porch and carefully placed the
banjo beside it.
The
youngster, about five years old, turned and ran yelling through the house.
"Mama,
Mama, there's an old tramp on the front porch!"
A
dark heavyset woman in a print dress hurried through an arch beyond the front
room. She scowled as she came to the door, wiping her hands on her apron.
"Shush,
Edward, you mama got a headache."
The
child pointed to Daniel. "But Daddy said no more bums, Miss Anna. No more
damn beggars."
Daniel
flinched. If any son of mine cussed, he'd get a good shellacking behind the
woodshed and his mouth washed out with laundry soap.
But
he put the thought behind him and touched the brim of his cap.
"Howdy,
ma'am. I wonder if you—"
The
maid thrust the boy behind her skirt and sized up the stranger through the
screen. She glanced behind him at the gunnysack, which lay on the porch like a
tired old hound.
"We
don't give handouts. Mr. Cornwallis, he say no more beggars, tramps, thieves,
or preachers."
Daniel,
not to be turned away before he'd stated his purpose, nodded politely.
"That's
very wise, ma'am. They'll eat you out of house and home if you let 'em."
"I'm
glad you understand," the maid replied as Edward peeked out from behind.
"Now you better—"
"Yes,
yes, of course," Daniel said. "I better introduce myself. I ain't no
ordinary tramp or bum, ma'am." He indicated the tools in their various
places in his overalls. "As a matter of fact, I'm just a simple tradesman.
A cabinetmaker looking for work."
She
shook her head. "We got cabinets."
"Of
course you do. But I ain't selling cabinets. I'm not just a carpenter, but an
all-purpose handyman. You got anything broke? I'll fix it for a drop of milk, a
sandwich, or a cold spud."
"No."
She backed away from the door. "Nothing broken here."
"Much
obliged, then. Sorry I bothered you."
As
he turned to go, he kicked the screen door and the top hinge fell out.
"Look
what you did!" cried the woman.
Daniel
removed his cap.
"I'm
sorry, ma'am." He shook his head. "You better have the mister look at
it when he gets home."
He
stuck his cap back on, picked up the gunnysack and banjo, and started down the
steps. Smiling to himself, he placed a foot exactly so on a certain board, just
enough to tip it.
"This
here step needs fixin', before someone breaks his neck."
"Wait!"
Anna called as he started down the walk.
He
turned around.
"You
could fix it," she said.
"Reckon
I could. But you already said you don't need nothing fixed."
Anna
stepped onto the porch to inspect the damage, then went back inside. "I'll
make you a bite to eat while you fix the door and step."
She
disappeared, going back toward the kitchen as Edward ran after her.
"But
Miss Anna, Daddy said no more damn tramps."
"Hush
up, child. You wake you po' mama. She spank you little britches for talking
nasty."
"But
Miss Anna, he—"
"Shhh!
I gotta tell you again, you get the switch."
Daniel
set down his gunnysack. He laid the banjo against it and reached in his bib
pocket. He grinned as he pulled out the nails and screws he'd removed from the
step and screen door earlier.
When
Edward came outside to watch, Daniel said, "You can help me if you want,
sonny." He laid a nail in the boy's hand. "You just hold that there
nail till I want it again. Don't dare let go of it."
Edward
clutched the nail in his fist and climbed up in the swing. "Yes, sir, I
won't lose it."
Daniel
went to work, humming to the squeak of the noisy swing as he reached for his
hammer and screwdriver. He held the door in place and positioned a screw in one
of the hinge holes.
"What's
in your sack?" Edward asked.
Daniel
glanced at the boy.
"Dead
chickens."
Edward
eyed the gunnysack. "What are they doing in there?"
Daniel
screwed the screw in the wood and got another from his pocket,
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