Seth and the Barbarian
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Seth II - CarolineChapter 17: More Decisions free porn video
1872
Two late snowstorms blanketed the area and gave Robert Williams plenty of time to read his borrowed law books as business all but disappeared. He found that he enjoyed it, completely lost track of time some days, and by March had struggled his way through most of the Maryland code, at least those parts he found interesting and relevant. In the back of one of his ledgers he had accumulated several pages of notes and, with lawyer Anderson's help, a list of Latin terms and their meaning.
As his wife's condition became more obvious and her morning sickness faded away, they discussed the possibility of Robert giving up store keeping and becoming an apprentice to Mr. Anderson with the aim of attempting to join the local bar. Then, he assured his worried wife, he could either hang out his shingle or seek government employment in the city. The well-known lawyer, now in an office by himself, had offered Robert the position of clerk with a guaranteed hundred a month. His father-in-law was then paying him twenty dollars a week plus a bonus if business was good.
"With three children." Robert said in one of a series of after-supper discussions when Johnny and Patricia were both abed, "we will need both a bigger home and a better income."
"But Rockville is full of lawyers," Caroline said, looking up from her endless mending. "Must be a score. They swarm around like May flies."
"Mr. Anderson assures me there is always room for more hard working young attorneys. He'll sponsor me, take me into his office and offer a partnership in due time while I learn to do wills and contracts, things like that."
"I don't know. Have you talked to father?" Caroline's smooth brow grew lines of worry as her silver thimble reflected the lamplight. She did not want to discourage her husband's ambitions, but she felt the need for security rather than an unsettled, if hopeful, future. Unending lists of things-to-do and self-nags about unfinished chores cluttered her memory. Some mornings she was still surprised to find that she was a mother and no longer a child.
Robert shook his head. "But Mr. Anderson is willing to have me read the law with him in my spare time and learn many of the ins and outs while I decide. He'll introduce me around, pave the way."
"Isn't he having some sort of fight with Judge Bouic?" Caroline asked, squirming in her chair in an attempt to find a comfortable way to sit. Her ankles were painfully swollen and her belly huge. She rested her mending on it and rubbed her eyes.
"Something happened. He won't talk about it, but they have dissolved their relationship. They are no longer partners." Robert flipped open a copy of the Sentinel. "Did you see this letter?"
"Yes," she said, resuming her darning. "He certainly sounds angry just because they left his name off some list. It's as bitter a letter as I've seen."
"He was proud of being Rockville's Justice of the Peace. He's taken this very personally, says old Judge Bouic favored his nephew for the job. He's really mad, hurt and angry."
"Do you think the way Mr. Anderson helped you might have caused this?" She bit her thread and held her work up to the light.
He shook his head. "I doubt it. I suppose it's possible. There are some very deep wounds out here and some have labels on them like Sharpsburg and Gettysburg and Appomattox." A flickering image of stiffened bodies in the prison camp's endless mud passed behind his eyes.
All through the spring both the weekly Sentinel and the Washington dailies had run stories about the railroad to Point of Rocks, the branch of the B&O that was going to bisect Montgomery County and, according to the pundits, open up the scrubby waste land to cultivation and the flourishing markets of Baltimore to industrious farmers. Several promised dates for the completion of the much-anticipated line had passed by the time summer arrived with a drumroll flourish of thunderstorms. Soon fields of waving corn nearly inundated the county, but still no hoped-for trains chugged on the hazy horizon.
Caroline's fourth child arrived right on schedule, a dark-haired boy that they named Daniel after a long and laugh-filled discussion of other possibilities. Robert's mother came to help with the delivery and stayed to care for the older children until Caroline was back in her kitchen. She was slow in recovering from her long labor, but by the 4th of July was ready to travel and to enjoy a picnic and celebration at her father's home with all of her in-laws.
Annie brought her current suitor, a beefy young man who was some kin to the Bealls, surely one of the county's largest and most prolific families. His prosperous father was the owner of several large farms. His name was Philip, and he had cultivated a drooping blonde mustache in the style of George Armstrong Custer.
"Seems odd that there's no local celebration of the Fourth," said Caroline, her new baby soundly sleeping in a net-covered basket while her two older children romped around, chasing a noisy flock of guinea hens with the help of an old hound.
"In the city there are parades and illuminations and all sorts of things going on. Ought to be enough hot air spouted down there to lift the Capitol's dome." Mr. French smiled and poured more lemonade for his guests.
"By '76," Robert said, "we may have some sort of local to-do. It will be the centennial after all. I can't believe they will ignore that."
"I doubt it," Seth said. The girl he had invited to the picnic backed out at the last moment, pleading dyspepsia.
"Hard to forget a hanged brother," said Mr. French, straightening the creases in his white, linen trousers.
"Every agriculture association meeting I've been to," Seth told them, "is dominated by the former rebs even though Mr. Bradley is very reasonable. They didn't even mention the 4th of July, not once."
"You involved with the fair?" his brother asked, watching his children with half an eye.
"Plowing contests," said Seth. "I'm a judge, one of the judges."
"Well, that's very impressive. And how are your apple trees doing?" Robert grabbed his son as he ran past and held him on his lap briefly, a squirming bundle of kinetic energy, bare feet flailing.
"Mother is very proud of them although there was not much of a showing this spring. Those wet snows helped although they did take off a few branches here and there. There certainly won't be enough fruit to talk about, not this year."
"We planted twenty crabapples this March," said young Beall, his wide chest stretching the seams of his seersucker jacket. "My ma's a great jelly maker."
"Sounds like a good idea," Seth said. "I'm thinking on some pear trees too." The two young men went off with Mr. French, in the company of several loping retrievers, to look at his small orchard with its wizened trees.
"What's this talk of the law," asked the senior Mrs. Williams of her older son after she returned from discouraging her grandchildren's attacks on their feathered quarry. She was tired of hearing the irate guinea fowls' strident "go-back" cries.
"I've been reading with Mr. Anderson for some time now, off and on," Robert said, stretching out his legs. "We haven't made any decision yet."
"You and Thomas Anderson or you and your wife," asked Robert's mother, smiling down at her sleeping grandson.
"Both," Robert said with a rueful smile.
"You really should talk to father," said Caroline, rocking the baby's surrogate crib with her toe. "He's in a very good mood since his railroad shares are doing so well. Ask for a raise."
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