The Monster and Other Stories
Copyright© 2024 by Stephen Crane
Chapter 13
“You know very well that you and your family lived usually on less than three dollars a week, and now that Dr. Trescott pays you five dollars a week for Johnson’s board, you live like millionaires. You haven’t done a stroke of work since Johnson began to board with you—everybody knows that—and so what are you kicking about?”
The judge sat in his chair on the porch, fondling his cane, and gazing down at old Williams, who stood under the lilac-bushes. “Yes, I know, jedge,” said the negro, wagging his head in a puzzled manner. “Tain’t like as if I didn’t ‘preciate what the docteh done, but—but—well, yeh see, jedge,” he added, gaining a new impetus, “it’s—it’s hard wuk. This ol’ man nev’ did wuk so hard. Lode, no.”
“Don’t talk such nonsense, Alek,” spoke the judge, sharply. “You have never really worked in your life—anyhow, enough to support a family of sparrows, and now when you are in a more prosperous condition than ever before, you come around talking like an old fool.”
The negro began to scratch his head. “Yeh see, jedge,” he said at last, “my ol’ ‘ooman she cain’t ‘ceive no lady callahs, nohow.”
“Hang lady callers’” said the judge, irascibly. “If you have flour in the barrel and meat in the pot, your wife can get along without receiving lady callers, can’t she?”
“But they won’t come ainyhow, jedge,” replied Williams, with an air of still deeper stupefaction. “Noner ma wife’s frien’s ner noner ma frien’s ‘ll come near ma res’dence.”
“Well, let them stay home if they are such silly people.”
The old negro seemed to be seeking a way to elude this argument, but evidently finding none, he was about to shuffle meekly off. He halted, however. “Jedge,” said he, “ma ol’ ‘ooman’s near driv’ abstracted.”
“Your old woman is an idiot,” responded the judge.
Williams came very close and peered solemnly through a branch of lilac. “Judge,” he whispered, “the chillens.”
“What about them?”
Dropping his voice to funereal depths, Williams said, “They—they cain’t eat.”
“Can’t eat!” scoffed the judge, loudly. “Can’t eat! You must think I am as big an old fool as you are. Can’t eat—the little rascals! What’s to prevent them from eating?”
In answer, Williams said, with mournful emphasis, “Hennery.” Moved with a kind of satisfaction at his tragic use of the name, he remained staring at the judge for a sign of its effect.
The judge made a gesture of irritation. “Come, now, you old scoundrel, don’t beat around the bush any more. What are you up to? What do you want? Speak out like a man, and don’t give me any more of this tiresome rigamarole.”
“I ain’t er-beatin’ round ‘bout nuffin, jedge,” replied Williams, indignantly. “No, seh; I say whatter got to say right out. ‘Deed I do.”
“Well, say it, then.”
“Jedge,” began the negro, taking off his hat and switching his knee with it, “Lode knows I’d do jes ‘bout as much fer five dollehs er week as ainy cul’d man, but—but this yere business is awful, jedge. I raikon ‘ain’t been no sleep in—in my house sence docteh done fetch ‘im.”
“Well, what do you propose to do about it?”
Williams lifted his eyes from the ground and gazed off through the trees. “Raikon I got good appetite, an’ sleep jes like er dog, but he—he’s done broke me all up. ‘Tain’t no good, nohow. I wake up in the night; I hear ‘im, mebbe, er-whimperin’ an’ er-whimperin’, an’ I sneak an’ I sneak until I try th’ do’ to see if he locked in. An’ he keep me er-puzzlin’ an’ er-quakin’ all night long. Don’t know how’ll do in th’ winter. Can’t let ‘im out where th’ chillen is. He’ll done freeze where he is now.” Williams spoke these sentences as if he were talking to himself. After a silence of deep reflection he continued: “Folks go round sayin’ he ain’t Hennery Johnson at all. They say he’s er devil!”
“What?” cried the judge.
“Yesseh,” repeated Williams, in tones of injury, as if his veracity had been challenged. “Yesseh. I’m er-tellin’ it to yeh straight, jedge. Plenty cul’d people folks up my way say it is a devil.”
“Well, you don’t think so yourself, do you?”
“No. ‘Tain’t no devil. It’s Hennery Johnson.”
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