Marrying Stone by Pamela Morsi Read Free Book Online

Meggie," Jesse explained proudly with emphasis on the new word he'd learned. "Just like I tole you. He's come from a college named Hazard."
    Onery Best looked at his guest keenly. "Kentucky? My wife's folks got family in Hazard County, Kentucky."
    "No, not Hazard, Harvard," Roe correctly quietly. "It's in Massachusetts, the Bay State."
    "The Bay State? Woo-eee, Lordy, you've come one fer piece. Your people from there?"
    "My people?"
    "Your family."
    "Oh, actually I don't have much family anymore. Just some cousins on the maternal side. They live in Philadelphia. I have a fellowship from Harvard."
    "What's fellowship?" Jesse asked.
    "It sounds like some kindy religious fal-de-ral," Onery said.
    "No, not at all. The college supports my efforts to collect and catalogue folk songs of Celtic origin. I believe I will find some here in the Ozarks."
    "What's folk songs?"
    "Why it's just music," he said. "The music of the people. The kind of music you play, Jesse. Do you play music, too, Mr. Best?"
    Jesse grinned proudly and spoke up before his father could. "It was Pa what taught me to play fiddle. I'm the best around these parts now. Even better than Pa and he used to play
itinerant
for a living."
    Roe's eyes widened with interest. "I'd be very interested to hear both of you. It's my conjecture, and I hope on this mission to prove it, that many of the ballads and play-party songs that are popular here can be traced directly to songs in the highlands of Britain and Ireland. These songs and their history are already lost in their native lands, through wars and assimilation. But since the Ozarks are so remote, the songs may still be sung. If they are to be saved at all, they must be saved by those of us in the current generation. Folkways are passing quickly and we must document all that we can."
    Onery's brow furrowed. "And you think me and Jesse and the folks 'round here can help you
document
these old songs?"
    "Yes, sir, I do."
    "Well, it seems to me— "
    'There is no playing nor singing when food's on the table," Meggie interrupted sternly. "That's just plain bad manners." She was as intrigued as her father and brother, but deliberately managed to break the spell that Roe's words cast.
    Onery Best nodded in agreement. "That's true. The table's no place for music," he said. "But when Roe here's got some soup in his belly and the rest of us have eaten our fill, they'll be time for visiting and singing and the like."
    Roe smiled. "I'd appreciate that, Onery. It would be a great help to me."
    "A help you say?" Onery grinned big and broad. "Well, it's just like I tole you, this family owes you some making up. If just playing some good music and singing some songs be helping you, it seems like a right smart idea to me."
    Jesse, Roe, and Onery were all smiling.
    Meggie was not. Helping J. Monroe Farley
document
his  folk songs would mean his continued presence at the cabin. And Meggie wanted the man as far away from her and her family as earthly possible. Farley was a music man like her father and brother. She knew all about men like that. Playing a couple of tunes could turn into a day-long concert. Once the music was started and the men were playing, it was hard to get them back to the plow.
    Meggie was not musical. She loved music and would catch herself singing a tune now and again. But it would never be for her the excuse for wasting a day's work that it was for them.
    Clearly Roe Farley was to stay for a good long while. Meggie didn't want that. She'd embarrassed herself and felt humiliated. But worse, she still felt drawn to the dark-haired city man. It was only force of will that kept her at her distance now. And she didn't know how long her will could hold out.
    "Jesse, say grace if you will," Meggie ordered.
    The three men looked at her startled. They were already halfway finished with their meal and now she was calling for them to pray over it.
    Onery cleared his throat and lay his cornbread back on the table. "Guess we did