JIM TOM BOGGS; OR, LOVIN' YOUR NEIGHBOR AGIN ODDS.
By Priscilla Ann Baker
Hain't some folks the curiousest anyways! There's Jim Tom Boggs as lives onto Monford's farm across the road an' a little ways north of ourn that jest beats all. We all hev' our trials in this vale of tears an' I tell Baker that it's my firm belief that that feller's ben sent to live onto that place by us just to show us our weaknesses an' shortcomin's. You never see a friendlier, politer man livin' nur dead; an' that makes it fur worse to live by him. Why, he'll come over of an evenin' an' lift his hat an' bow purty nigh double to me an' then to Baker an' set fur two or three hours stiddy askin' me about the gardin sass an' the sewin' circle, an' Baker about polyticks an' how his crops is doin', an' inquirin' how all our folks is he's ever heard us speak of, an' knowin' jest what to do if anythin's the matter with 'em. An' then he'll tell an' tell about farmin' in Maryland an' bein' to Washington, D. C., an' what he saw to Nebraska till it 'pears like we hain't got nothin' to Bean Blossom. He's right good-lookin' an's got a soft, low voice an' looks a body in the eye as honest an' meek like, an' listens to every word you say like it wus a oncommon priviledge to hear you speak. My, but he's winnin'! After he's been here that a-way sometimes Baker'll say: “Well, mother, I must say that man's got a heap of good in him, after all. We hadn't orto be so hard on him.” An' jest like as not the very next day he'll up an' do somethin' that'll make Baker dancin' mad. One day a big swarm of our bees come off an' lit onto the gable end of the barn right smack up agin the ruff. I called Baker from the corn field an' he got all the things out there to hive 'em but every time he'd go up on the ladder a ways he'd be dizzy an' hev' to come down ag'in. Fin'ly he went an' got Boggs to come. He hived 'em all right in about a half a hour an' they left 'em settin' agin the barn so they'd be sleepy an' not fly when they'd be moved. Baker didn't think of offerin' to pay him fur doin' it fur he'd ben over an' doctored a colicky horse of Boggses time an' ag'in jest like a neighbor had orter. We had supper airly that night an' Baker cut off to town fur the mail sayin' he'd tote them bees over to the stand when he come back. After he was gone awhile I see he hadn't brung no cobs to kindle fire with in the mornin' so I went to the barn fur some. I seen to a settin' hen or two an' come out with my apron full of cobs when there stood Boggs a-smilin' to himself. When he see me he wus surprised but as perlite as ever, askin' where wus Baker an' wantin' to carry the cobs to the house fur me, which I thought a little extra an' tol' him I wus able fur it. Then he says: “Well, you see I've got my wheelbarrer, Mis' Baker. I thought it wus dark enough to move my bees.” An' he jest lifted that hive onto his barrer an' started along towards the gate talkin' a streak about a money machine he'd seen to the state fair an' branchin' off into how much honey they find in one bee tree to Maryland. He opened the gate for me an' invited me to come over an' make 'em a visit the corjolest kind, an' all I got said wus, “Farewell,” an' that I said to the bees. He hain't overly perlite to his wife, though. I wus there one day when he come home in his buggy, an' becuz she wus a little slow about runnin' out to open the big gate fur him to drive in he begun an' swore at her. Old rascal! as if he'd any right to sich waitin' on frum her. She's a mighty good woman, Mis' Boggs is, an' I'm amazin' sorry she has to live with such a old varmint. Last fall the Widder Lambert put a horse into Baker's woods pasture for a couple of months. Her young boys had rode an' drove it around town a sight an' it wus purty badly lamed up so she wanted it to hev' a rest. Fur two or three weeks we had a heap of rain an' the crick bottom beyant Jim Tom Boggses wus nigh about hub deep fur a spell. One day while it wus the worst some folks come along movin' in two big covered wagons an' they plum stalled down there by the bridge. It's a half mile off but I could see 'em we're so high. They put both teams onto one wagon but they wus so tired out they couldn't make it. 'Fore long I see one of the men come up to Boggses an' I thought him an' him crossed over to our side the road but couldn't tell sure. The teams stood there so long I got the fidgets an' clappin' on my sunbonnet an' a clean apron I went down there to see what wus goin' on. The woods an' knolls shut off my view of 'em till I wus purty nigh up to 'em, and what do you reckon that Boggs wus at? If you'll believe me that rascal had Widder Lambert's horse an' our bay Caesar hitched on with theirn a-pullin' like all possessed. They had one wagon nearly over an' then they took that team back fur the other one. I wus that riled it's a big wonder I didn't say somethin' to be sorry fur; but Mis' Boggs wus standin' there to the gate an' tol' me she'd said all she dared to hev' him take his own team that wus standin' in the barn but he'd jest tol' her to shet up. I kep' still till they wus about ready to go on an' one of the movers asked Boggs what his he'p wus worth, sayin' they 'lowed to pay him what wus right. “Well,” says Boggs, “it's been a mighty tough pull, but I'll be satisfied with $3.00 I reckon.” “Three dollars!” says I, “you ole thief! If you had any heart you'd a he'ped 'em fur nothin' an' used your own team too.” An' then I grabbed Caesar's bridle-rein outer his han' an' jest moderately tol' them men that that horse belonged to Baker an' tother one to the widder an' that wus our woods pastur' across the road there, “an',” says I, “don't you give him a red copper fur his meanness.” Mis' Boggs said I wus right (though I expect she got a thrashin' for it), an' them men yanked off his ole harnish frum them beasts. I tol' 'em where we live, so they tied them on behind one of the wagons an' he'ped me in by their wimmen folks an' sailed up to our house. 'Peared like they were powerful sorry about hevin' used them horses an' Baker gone. They washed the mud offen 'em an' waited till he come home an' wanted to pay him fur 'em.10But he didn't take nothin'; maybe we'll want a lift some day. I lowed we'd be shet of Boggs fur a spell, but I missed my count, fur the very next evenin' he come over huntin' fur a gobbler of theirn that had run off, an' wus as frien'ly as ever an' wonderful sympathisin' about a bile Baker had onto his neck, an' talked so kinder meek an' confidin' Baker couldn't screw up the courage to say the first thing about that movin' scrape. But we wouldn't mind a incident like that now an' ag'in if it wusn't fur bein' pestered continual by his live stock. He lets 'em run onto the road an' one ole cow of hisn kin open a gate an' lay down bars an' rail fence jest as good as I kin. She's a little slower at it but powerful perseverin'. Well, sir, it don't never exceed two days between times that that cow an' the hull pack at her heels is in Baker's corn or wheat or medder or truck patch one or other or two or three of 'em. Boggs has got a little peeked, spindly-lookin' boy as herds 'em onto the road an' if they go to workin' at their fence the boy runs like the wind an' tells him, but 'pears like whenever it's ourn that boy's sure to be to the house fur a piece or under the willers asleep. He's never failed yet. Baker thinks its curi'us since he's heard Boggs jawin' him when he'd be up there, but says I, “Jawin' hain't lickin' an' he's been tol' when's the best time to eat an' sleep,” says I. We har'ly dare leave the place long enough to go to meetin' an' don't fur anythin' else, 'ceptin to tear over to Bean Blossom with butter an' eggs an' tear back with mail an' groceries. Yes, an' there it is ag'in! That Boggs will hev us to bring his mail whenever we go, an' Baker says its like carryin' blackmail, fur he never har'ly has a thing but a ole blood an' thunder story paper an' a pack of duns (on postal cards an' everyway) frum men he's a-owin'. Baker sleeps with one ear out of the winder of nights a-listenin' fur the fence to crack, an' we might as well be livin' onto a island fur all we see of our fellow-bein's except when they jest come here a-purpose to see us, all along o' that cow of hisn. We're goin' to worry along with him till spring, when he's to move away. Baker's mendin' up his cribs good an' tight an' 'lows to hire help an' crib his corn jist as fast as its ripe enough an' save what he kin from them ole holler cows. I'll own frank an' free that I never knowed Baker an' me had so much fire an' brimstone inside of us as that feller has stirred up; but I believe he's a blessin' to us, a reg'lar blessin', an' lookin' at it all roun' I'm ruther glad he's lived here by us an' we've foun' out what's into us so as we kin git rid of it, fur it'll never do to let it hev sich a holt onto us. My, no!