Scarcely more than three days after, the children were in school and Mrs. Hillman was busy clearing away the dishes after lunch. Charlie was cleaning out the horse barn, and Mr. Hillman had taken Cliff to see about the windmill southwest of the house. It seemed that something needed repairing about it.
“We’ll swing around to the south field and take the shares off the plow I left out there. I want to try a little idea I have to improve that rig ’afore Spring. We might as well take along the shot gun in case we see one of them coyotes as has been after Mom’s turkeys this fall.”
Off they went. Not long after, Mrs. Hillman heard the unmistakable report of the shot gun. “Well, good enough! Maybe one less coyote! The pelt should be fairly good too with the animal’s winter fur grown in,” she thought.
Suddenly the door burst open. Almost tossing the gun on the table, Daddy exclaimed, “I knew it, Mom. I knew it! I had to shoot him this time! It was him or me!” His face was pale. Cliff came up panting.
Mamma was aghast. “Who – what did you shoot?”
“Cliff, hop in the car and try to get Joe. Swing around by Mercer’s and see if he can come and help us – and –.”
“Ned Hillman! What on earth have you done?”
“I’m sorry, Mom, but we’ve got to hurry. That big bull of Joe’s nearly got us – would have too, if I hadn’t learned to shoot from the hip!”
“You shot the French’s bull?”
“Well, of course. There was nothing around to climb or get away on! He was busting through the fence jest as we come up over the rise there. Soon’s he seen us, he charged. Dropped dead at my feet. It was as close a call as any I care to have! Whew! But I got work to do! I aim to offer to butcher him and buy half the meat, if I can get a little help, that is. Good job it happened with Cliff as a witness and on my own property. He’ll threaten suit, you’ll see.”
And Daddy was off to the barn to ready his butchering equipment. “This ain’t gonna be the most proper done job, but we’ll do our best,” he called over his shoulder.
Shortly after, Cliff drove up with a very irate Mr. French. Instead of waiting to address himself to Mr. Hillman, he began a string of profane abuse to a white-faced Mrs. Hillman.
Along with a lot of extra unrepeatable words, his main theme was, “I sue you for keeling my bull. He worth thousand dollah!”
Suddenly Joe became aware of the tall man with folded arms contemplating him from the doorway.
“Your business is with me, not my wife. I do not permit such profanity to be used in her presence. Step outside and we’ll conduct this business alone!” Mr. Hillman’s piercing steel gray eyes never seemed more penetrating and his voice was as cold as the color of his eyes.
“Yah sure, Meester Heelman. Sure I come!”
He obediently agreed to all the terms and sent his brother Jules to help with the butchering job.
So it was that the family enjoyed some slightly tough steaks soon thereafter.
“I’d eat this steak no matter how tough it was!” Robbie grinned. “Mostly out of spite. And after what you told Jules, Dad, I’ll bet Joe French gets his next bull dehorned!”
“Well, I hope you acted like a Christian should,” sighed Mamma. “I’m so thankful he gave in to your terms,” she went on. “There was such a chill in your voice, I was afraid you might forget –.”
“Now, Mamma. You just have to call his bluff, that’s all. I guess I was pretty sore, though. Nothing gets my Irish up more’n some coward abusin’ a woman–– ‘specially mine!” And he kissed a flustered little Mamma.
The weather had turned unseasonably warm and beautiful.
“If this weather keeps up we’ll have a whoppin’ drought for sure,” Daddy observed. “Makes a guy lazy though. We worked hard cleaning up the barns and spreading the manure out this mornin’. What d’ya say we knock off for “siesta,” boys? I feel a nap coming on,” and he yawned widely.
The dishes done presently, Mamma and Daddy resting, and Robbie hunting rabbits, the girls sauntered upstairs to their rooms. No one wanted to sleep.
They had the catalogs and for a change Clara generously invited them into her room (on the north of the house and consequently cooler). Jennie and Lori and Clara were stretched sideways across the bed enjoying the styles of Montgomery Ward and Mary Jane and Ellen were sitting on the floor with the Chicago Mail Order. Enthusiastic remarks such as, “What a cute coat!” “Oh, I like this one!” – “When I sell my steer, I’m going to –.” and so on, and so forth. Suddenly a strange sound, a snorkel perhaps it could be called, caused them all to pause.
“What’s that?” everyone asked at once.
“It’s outside the window!” and three heads peered out.
Below in the shade Daddy had placed four or five extra planks of pine. Each was about 10 inches wide. There was old Charlie stretched out in the cool shade on a wide plank, his old jacket rolled under his head for a pillow. The snorkels were snorkeling at regular intervals and Charlie was having a nap with his mouth open, and the offending pipe sliding onto his chest. It was seeing the pipe that did it perhaps, but impish thoughts began to form.
“We could just drop an old shoe down beside him and watch him jump. He deserves a good scare,” someone suggested. The girls all tittered, imagining the look on his face.
“I’ll run and get one of Cliff’s – they’re big and heavy,” Clara said.
It was a thoughtless, naughty deed, but it produced such funny results that they rolled on the floor with laughter, that is, until Daddy’s stern voice called them all down on the carpet. His mood wasn’t helped any by having had his nap disturbed. The excited, angry Charlie charged, “Your girls, dey tro shoe on my head while I sleep!”
Although one young lady vowed she was too old for a spanking, they all got one. Poor old Charlie cried throughout the ordeal: “No! No! Don’t spank them, Meester Heelman! Please don’t spank them!”
“You were all distinctly told not to harass Charlie any more! I just can’t let you keep disobeying me like this!” was the opening line to the lecture that followed.
Charlie must have felt hopelessly incompatible, because he left soon after. He was one of the few who worked and lived in the Hillman household and did not receive the Lord – at least not to all appearances.
“I don’t feel very good about the way we treated Charlie, Mamma,” Jennie said after he was gone. “I do hope we children didn’t ruin our Christian testimony completely with him.”
“Well, honey, it’s a very sobering thought. I trust not. The Lord is gracious and perhaps someday when he needs it most the Lord can bless some scriptures to his soul that he heard here. I think, however, of Ecclesiastes 10:1 which says: “Dead flies cause the ointment of the apothecary to send forth a stinking savor, so doth a little folly him that is in reputation for wisdom and honor.”