Watch Yourself Go By. Al. G. Field
of the wall paper suit was scattered over the saw-dust ring. Joe started on the second revolution but when he got under the bar he hung there swinging backwards and forwards. Lin said: "He jus' clung thar doubled up like a toy monkey on a stick, jus' swinging like the pendulum of a stoppin' clock."
The red flowered belt and a sort of collar around the neck remained. Joe had on very white stockings; however, they only reached below the knee. As he had lost his hat at the beginning of his stunt he was almost devoid of clothes. The vast audience giggled and shouted "accordin' to their raisin'" as Lin expressed it afterwards.
Joe, through shame or stage fright, made no effort to release himself. The situation became embarrassing to the few grown ones present. Mothers took occasion to look down at their children, smoothing their hair or straightening their clothing. The big girls looked another way but the greater part of the audience yelled with delight.
Lin "jus' couldn't stan' it any longer." Dropping the children, she rushed to poor Joe's rescue. She was compelled to unclasp Joe's hands from the bar. In his fright and confusion he had a vise-like grasp on it. In the position in which he hung his face was hidden. Lin said that "his old wall-paper duds was all off him" and she reckoned "long as his face was kivered he'd hung thar 'til he fainted or fell."
When Lin stood the poor fellow on his feet after relieving him from his perch, he was confused. Instead of going into the dressing room where all the boys were yelling with laughter, poor Joe ran out of the tent across the commons and crawled into Jeffries' coal house.
The door-keeper, Win Scott, hurried his regular clothes to him, but Joe left for home and never thereafter did he essay to become an actor. Every child carried home as a souvenir a remnant of Joe's wall-paper show suit.
Meanwhile, Alfred was changing the clown suit for Lacy Hare's military uniform in which he always appeared as Davy Crockett and Daniel Boone.
Someone called to him: "Alf, here comes all yer grandpap's family."
Alfred peered through a hole in Mrs. Evans' rag carpet and his blood froze in his veins. Heading the procession was grandpap, wide flowing, white collar, hat in hand. He appeared to Alfred an avenging nemesis. Following closely, came Uncle Ned, stern, and solemn Aunt Sarah. Cousin Charley and old Tommy Moorehouse brought up the rear of the advancing column.
Alfred felt the tent swaying as if in a gale. The tent swayed again. Lin sat the children down quickly, "thinkin' it was some of the tarnel brats that had pestered the show tent ever since Alfred started it." At the door she came face to face with the angry grandfather.
"You're more to blame than the boy" was all Alfred remained to hear. Half naked, half dazed—for Alfred feared his grandfather's wrath greatly—down the big hill the boy fairly flew, through the Jimson weeds, their prickly pods stinging his bare breast and arms until the blood flowed. Nor did he slacken his pace until the old coal road was reached. Then along the dusty road to Krepp's coal bank; into the dark tunnel penetrating the hill, nor did he stop until so far under ground that the opening to the coal mine, although large enough to admit a horse and cart, appeared to the sight as a ring of daylight no larger than an eye.
Realizing that the white and red clown paint Lin had smeared on his face would be difficult to explain to the miners should he encounter them, Alfred endeavored to remove it by washing it with the yellow sulphur water standing in the cart tracks where it had dropped from the damp sides of the old mine. He only spread it with the yellow water; his face presented a sight similar to an Indian's in full war paint.
His fears subsiding, he retraced his steps towards the entrance. The opening darkened and he could discern a figure standing out against the sky beyond.
Hastening on he whistled shrilly. The answering whistle he recognized as that of his treasurer, Win Scott. When they met, Win gave Alfred the particulars of the wrecking of the tent by Uncle Ned and imparted the information that all Grandpap's family, with the linen sheets, had gone home excepting the grandmother, and he had a message requesting that Alfred come to her at once, with the assurance that he would not be punished.
The grandmother had frequently interceded in Alfred's behalf and he was greatly pleased to receive her message. He felt so good over the turn of affairs that he could scarcely walk up the long hill so weak was he with laughter over Joe's wall-paper circus clothes, nor did his good humor forsake him until they approached the spot where the tent, the work of many weeks, lay on the ground teetotally wrecked.
Win gave Alfred a graphic description of Uncle Ned's wrecking of the tent, the escape of the audience, of Lin's offering to pay for the sheets and her subsequent anger. Lin endeavored to appease Uncle Ned's wrath. "But the more she talked the wuss he raved."
When Alfred entered the kitchen, Lin's face was still red from anger and weeping. Looking angrily at Alfred, she began:
"Why did ye run? By golly, I'd stood my ground ef they'd all piled on me. Ef it hadn't been fur grandmother, I'd licked Ned myself."
Alfred explained that if he'd been dressed he'd stayed, but being "mos' naked he jus' knowed Uncle Ned would pull the tent down caus' he always wants to tear things up by the roots. I didn't want to be ketched naked like Joe."
At the thought of Joe's mishap his laughter broke out again. Lin's good nature began to assert itself. Suppressing her smiles she placed her fingers on her lips which implied silence. Jerking her head toward the sitting room door she informed the boy his grandmother was "thar waitin' fer ye," adding: "Ye needn't be skeered, she's got more religion and more sense than the whole caboodle of 'em put together. Go on in."
Softly approaching the door leading to the room he heard voices, his father's among them. He was half inclined to flee again. Timidly rapping on the door he heard footsteps leaving the room. Lin took him by the arm and led the boy into the large room.
It was growing dark. His grandmother sat alone. They halted in front of the gentle lady, Lin addressing Alfred in an encouraging manner, said: "'Al-f-u-r-d,' tell grandmother the truth. Don't stan' up and lie like Cousin Charley does, caus' he allus gits ketched up in it."
The boy looking into the kindly face of the quiet old lady felt no fear; however, his shame was most intense. Drawing the abashed boy nearer to her, she put her arm about him, softly saying: "I greatly fear you have been led by those older than yourself to do things you would not have done had you had proper advisors. I fear you will get into serious trouble if you do not follow your father's and mother's advice. Now, Alfred, listen to every word grandmother says to you. You will not be punished for taking the sheets more than your conscience reproves you. You are a good boy and everyone loves you. It is only your father's love for you that influences him to be severe with you at times. Your playful spirit, your mischievousness leads you into many actions that pain us all greatly but I am sure you do not intend to be bad. You are not vicious, only mischievous. Now tell me, Alfred, who prompted you to take the linen out of the chest?"
"No one. I was all to blame. Lin has sixty-eight cents and I have nearly three dollars Uncle Joe gave me and I'm going to give it all to Uncle Ned to pay for any tearing of the sheets and Lin will wash and starch them. They'll be as good as new."
With this speech the boy broke down completely. Kneeling, he buried his face in the old lady's lap. She stroked his head gently, and in a tone more soft and quiet than heretofore, she asked the contrite boy if he was aware of the reverence in which the family held the linen contained in the old chest.
The boy assured her that he supposed the old chest and its contents were cast off or unused articles the same as other goods stored away in the garret.
When the grandmother informed the boy the family held the contents of the old chest as almost sacred, that the linen was the last winding sheets of those of his family who had gone to the great beyond, his shame brought a flood of tears that nothing the grandmother could say would stop.
It was the custom that persons who died in those days were covered with whitest linen and this linen was ever afterwards preserved by the family as sacred.
The grandmother in gentle tones reminded the boy of loved ones whom he held in sweetest remembrance,