minmarn/Gone_with_the_wind · Datasets at Hugging Face

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"I shall come home early but drunk as a fiddler's bitch if I
please."

He did come home early thereafter, arriving long before time for
Bonnie to be put to bed. He sat beside her, holding her hand until
sleep loosened her grasp. Only then did he tiptoe downstairs,
leaving the lamp burning brightly and the door ajar so he might
hear her should she awake and become frightened. Never again did
he intend her to have a recurrence of fear of the dark. The whole
household was acutely conscious of the burning light, Scarlett,
Mammy, Prissy and Pork, frequently tiptoeing upstairs to make sure
that it still burned.

He came home sober too, but that was none of Scarlett's doing. For
months he had been drinking heavily, though he was never actually
drunk, and one evening the smell of whisky was especially strong
upon his breath. He picked up Bonnie, swung her to his shoulder
and asked her: "Have you a kiss for your sweetheart?"

She wrinkled her small upturned nose and wriggled to get down from
his arms.

"No," she said frankly. "Nasty."

"I'm what?"

"Smell nasty. Uncle Ashley don't smell nasty."

"Well, I'll be damned," he said ruefully, putting her on the floor.
"I never expected to find a temperance advocate in my own home, of
all places!"

But, thereafter, he limited his drinking to a glass of wine after
supper. Bonnie, who was always permitted to have the last drops in
the glass, did not think the smell of wine nasty at all. As the
result, the puffiness which had begun to obscure the hard lines of
his cheeks slowly disappeared and the circles beneath his black
eyes were not so dark or so harshly cut. Because Bonnie liked to
ride on the front of his saddle, he stayed out of doors more and
the sunburn began to creep across his dark face, making him
swarthier than ever. He looked healthier and laughed more and was
again like the dashing young blockader who had excited Atlanta
early in the war.

People who had never liked him came to smile as he went by with the
small figure perched before him on his saddle. Women who had
heretofore believed that no woman was safe with him, began to stop
and talk with him on the streets, to admire Bonnie. Even the
strictest old ladies felt that a man who could discuss the ailments
and problems of childhood as well as he did could not be altogether
bad.



CHAPTER LIII


It was Ashley's birthday and Melanie was giving him a surprise
reception that night. Everyone knew about the reception, except
Ashley. Even Wade and little Beau knew and were sworn to secrecy
that puffed them up with pride. Everyone in Atlanta who was nice
had been invited and was coming. General Gordon and his family had
graciously accepted, Alexander Stephens would be present if his
ever-uncertain health permitted and even Bob Toombs, the stormy
petrel of the Confederacy, was expected.

All that morning, Scarlett, with Melanie, India and Aunt Pitty flew
about the little house, directing the negroes as they hung freshly
laundered curtains, polished silver, waxed the floor and cooked,
stirred and tasted the refreshments. Scarlett had never seen
Melanie so excited or so happy.

"You see, dear, Ashley hasn't had a birthday party since--since,
you remember the barbecue at Twelve Oaks? The day we heard about
Mr. Lincoln's call for volunteers? Well, he hasn't had a birthday
party since then. And he works so hard and he's so tired when he
gets home at night that he really hasn't thought about today being
his birthday. And won't he be surprised after supper when
everybody troops in!"

"How you goin' to manage them lanterns on the lawn without Mr.
Wilkes seein' them when he comes home to supper?" demanded Archie
grumpily.

He had sat all morning watching the preparations, interested but
unwilling to admit it. He had never been behind the scenes at a
large town folks' party and it was a new experience. He made frank
remarks about women running around like the house was afire, just
because they were having company, but wild horses could not have
dragged him from the scene. The colored-paper lanterns which Mrs.
Elsing and Fanny had made and painted for the occasion held a
special interest for him, as he had never seen "sech contraptions"
before. They had been hidden in his room in the cellar and he had
examined them minutely.

"Mercy! I hadn't thought of that!" cried Melanie. "Archie, how
fortunate that you mentioned it. Dear, dear! What shall I do?
They've got to be strung on the bushes and trees and little candles
put in them and lighted just at the proper time when the guests are
arriving. Scarlett, can you send Pork down to do it while we're

"I shall come home early but drunk as a fiddler's bitch if I

please."

He did come home early thereafter, arriving long before time for

Bonnie to be put to bed. He sat beside her, holding her hand until

sleep loosened her grasp. Only then did he tiptoe downstairs,

leaving the lamp burning brightly and the door ajar so he might

hear her should she awake and become frightened. Never again did

he intend her to have a recurrence of fear of the dark. The whole

household was acutely conscious of the burning light, Scarlett,

Mammy, Prissy and Pork, frequently tiptoeing upstairs to make sure

that it still burned.

He came home sober too, but that was none of Scarlett's doing. For

months he had been drinking heavily, though he was never actually

drunk, and one evening the smell of whisky was especially strong

upon his breath. He picked up Bonnie, swung her to his shoulder

and asked her: "Have you a kiss for your sweetheart?"

She wrinkled her small upturned nose and wriggled to get down from

his arms.

"No," she said frankly. "Nasty."

"I'm what?"

"Smell nasty. Uncle Ashley don't smell nasty."

"Well, I'll be damned," he said ruefully, putting her on the floor.

"I never expected to find a temperance advocate in my own home, of

all places!"

But, thereafter, he limited his drinking to a glass of wine after

supper. Bonnie, who was always permitted to have the last drops in

the glass, did not think the smell of wine nasty at all. As the

result, the puffiness which had begun to obscure the hard lines of

his cheeks slowly disappeared and the circles beneath his black

eyes were not so dark or so harshly cut. Because Bonnie liked to

ride on the front of his saddle, he stayed out of doors more and

the sunburn began to creep across his dark face, making him

swarthier than ever. He looked healthier and laughed more and was

again like the dashing young blockader who had excited Atlanta

early in the war.

People who had never liked him came to smile as he went by with the

small figure perched before him on his saddle. Women who had

heretofore believed that no woman was safe with him, began to stop

and talk with him on the streets, to admire Bonnie. Even the

strictest old ladies felt that a man who could discuss the ailments

and problems of childhood as well as he did could not be altogether

bad.

CHAPTER LIII

It was Ashley's birthday and Melanie was giving him a surprise

reception that night. Everyone knew about the reception, except

Ashley. Even Wade and little Beau knew and were sworn to secrecy

that puffed them up with pride. Everyone in Atlanta who was nice

had been invited and was coming. General Gordon and his family had

graciously accepted, Alexander Stephens would be present if his

ever-uncertain health permitted and even Bob Toombs, the stormy

petrel of the Confederacy, was expected.

All that morning, Scarlett, with Melanie, India and Aunt Pitty flew

about the little house, directing the negroes as they hung freshly

laundered curtains, polished silver, waxed the floor and cooked,

stirred and tasted the refreshments. Scarlett had never seen

Melanie so excited or so happy.

"You see, dear, Ashley hasn't had a birthday party since--since,

you remember the barbecue at Twelve Oaks? The day we heard about

Mr. Lincoln's call for volunteers? Well, he hasn't had a birthday

party since then. And he works so hard and he's so tired when he

gets home at night that he really hasn't thought about today being

his birthday. And won't he be surprised after supper when

everybody troops in!"

"How you goin' to manage them lanterns on the lawn without Mr.

Wilkes seein' them when he comes home to supper?" demanded Archie

grumpily.

He had sat all morning watching the preparations, interested but

unwilling to admit it. He had never been behind the scenes at a

large town folks' party and it was a new experience. He made frank

remarks about women running around like the house was afire, just

because they were having company, but wild horses could not have

dragged him from the scene. The colored-paper lanterns which Mrs.

Elsing and Fanny had made and painted for the occasion held a

special interest for him, as he had never seen "sech contraptions"

before. They had been hidden in his room in the cellar and he had

examined them minutely.

"Mercy! I hadn't thought of that!" cried Melanie. "Archie, how

fortunate that you mentioned it. Dear, dear! What shall I do?

They've got to be strung on the bushes and trees and little candles

put in them and lighted just at the proper time when the guests are

arriving. Scarlett, can you send Pork down to do it while we're