Free Patrick Henry and the Frigate’s Keel: And Other Stories of a Young Nation by Howard Fast Page A

East stumping for votes was becoming popular, and Pa had read about it in newspapers, usually a month or two old.
    But what really decided him to go stumping was Jenny. My sister Jenny had turned eighteen then, and both Ma and Pa were after her to find a man who would make a good provider. She was a catch, all right, even though I didn’t think so; people said Squire Burton’s daughter would know how to run a home and a man. But, every time a boy was calling, Jenny had this or that to say about him. Even though Ma told her that in no time at all she would be an old maid.
    Well, Pa began to have his doubts when more and more people turned off to our house to speak about the new lawman. They were so full of bits of law he had let drop about that Pa got good and nervous, so nervous that even his gathering good, clear water in the new well didn’t cheer him any. And then, when the well was almost finished, the lawman himself came calling.
    He rode up one day on a sleek brown horse, with fat saddlebags, such as any proper lawman might carry. Pa was working on the well, but when he heard the hoofs he h’isted himself up. Then he saw the strange face, knew right off it was the lawman, and dropped back. Pa didn’t want any truck with him.
    The lawman dismounted and called to me, “Sonny, what’s your name?”
    I didn’t answer, but spat over my shoulder. If Pa had been there he would have whacked me; but Pa was down the well.
    The lawman smiled. “Squire Burton around?” he inquired.
    â€œI don’t see him,” I said.
    â€œHe lives here, doesn’t he?”
    â€œTimes when he does,” I said. It was hard to stand up against that lawman. He had a nice, square face and blue eyes that sparkled with interest as they looked at you; but I had made up my mind not to like him, and Pa had always said I would grow up into a stubborn man.
    Just then Jenny saw us from the house, and she came running out.
    The lawman said, “How do you do, miss? My name’s Elmer Green. I rode up here to pay my respects to Squire Burton. He lives here, doesn’t he?”
    â€œHe lives here,” Jenny nodded; but her eyes narrowed when she heard his name.
    â€œIs he here?”
    â€œHe was a moment ago. Jess, you seen your Pa?”
    â€œNot lately,” I said.
    â€œThen he isn’t here, and you needn’t wait,” Jenny snapped.
    The lawman turned his hat over and over in his hands. “Miss, I’m sorry if I offended you in any way. I aim to make friends here, not enemies.”
    â€œWe don’t need new friends. My father had enough friends until you came. It’s people like you who ruin this land, coming here where my father worked all his life, to tear down what he built.”
    â€œThat was not my intention, miss,” the lawman said softly. “This is a democracy we live in. And the great and necessary thing to any democracy is free election with more than one candidate.”
    â€œMy father judged this district well enough.”
    â€œWell enough, I agree with you,” the lawman said. “And he’ll continue to, probably. Only, this time people will choose between two of us—” They began to walk away from me, slowly. I stayed by the well.
    Pa whispered, “Jess, did that lawyer go yet?”
    â€œNot yet, Pa.”
    â€œWell, keep an eye peeled.”
    Pa stayed down that well at least an hour and a half. And it was drawing water, mind you. And all the time Jenny and the lawman sat in the shade of the house, talking. Jenny brought out some cold milk and some cake. Then the lawman mounted his horse.
    â€œTell Squire Burton I’ll be around again,” he called.
    After he had got out of sight in the woods I said to Pa, “You can come up now.”
    Pa crawled up out of the well, muddy and soaking wet. Jenny came over and said, “My goodness, Pa, what were you doing down there all this