by
Nzie
Disclaimer: The characters and situations of the TV program
"Big Valley" are the creations of Four Star/Republic Pictures and have
been used without permission. No
copyright infringement is intended by the author. The ideas expressed in this story are copyrighted to the author.
(*All utter archaisms defined at the end. )
“Well, madam, you
are no rigmutton,” said the gentleman in a rather superior, educated, mannered
tone after assisting the lady to the ground from the stage.
“Well, I never! Insulting me the whole trip with them fancy words!” She huffed
away. Jarrod looked about and awkwardly stepped forward, looking at the man he’d
been asked to entertain for the afternoon between the legs of his journey.
“Excuse me, sir?”
“Yes?” the stranger answered disinterestedly.
“Sir, are you Mr. Witherspoon? Mr. Abel Witherspoon?”
“I would that I am, yes. And who addresses me?”
“Barkley, Jarrod Barkley. I was wired to pick you, er, fetch you to the house
from the stage. I hope your ride was enjoyable.”
“I daresay it was no basket of chips. Oh, well. Shall we disembark?”
“Yes, of course. The surrey is this way, May I take your bag?” Witherspoon
handed it to him they were soon on their way.
Jarrod tried to point out the beautiful features of the ranch on the ride, but
his guest had not said much, and when he did say something it invariable was
negative. Or atleast Jarrod thought it was. Generally, his own vocabulary was
the largest in the area, but this man’s stunned him. He couldn’t understand
just about any word longer than six letters. It was beginning to unnerve him
and he was never so relieved to see the big white house looming before them.
“Well, here we are at the house. My mother is waiting for us, no doubt.”
“It seems to me that you have a great many ox-skins here,” he said as he
dismounted.
“Yes.... it seems we have, haven’t we.” The front door opened and Victoria
walked out. SHe approached them and noted Jarrod’s seeming discomfort.
“Hello,” she began brightly. “You must be Mr. Witherspoon. Please, come in.”
“At your behest, madam, I shall alight.” If Victoria was puzzled by his ornate
language, she hid it well as she led him inside and offered him refreshment.
After they had settled, she tried to engage in conversation, casting glances at
Jarrod to join them.
“So, have you been to a working ranch, before, Mr. Witherspoon?”
“No, Mrs. Barkley, I have not. Shall I be treated to a hippomachie?”
“No, I am sorry, but it takes a great deal of time to operate a ranch this size
and we can’t spare it for hip-po-ma-chies.” She tried pronouncing it carefully.
“I noticed how large it is. Mr. Barkley, perhaps you can explain to me how you
manage the cow-sharen?” Jarrod was at a loss again.
“Uh, manage it?” he stumbled. “Well, I guess... that is, there’s only one way
to manage it.... and that is, to, well, simply, you just have to manage it.”
His words became quicker as he went along. Something wasn’t right. How could
his mother handle it so well? There was little chance she understood it any
more than he did, but she was definitely more at ease. Who ever heard of a
hippomachie? Witherspoon looked disappointed at his response. “Perhaps you
might ask one of my brothers. They run the ranch and are better suited to
explain it to you. They should be in shortly.”
“Well, I shall just have to remember to ask them. I was hoping for an amusing,
even dungeonable response, but I see it is not to be had at this time.”
Nick and Audra came walking in after an uneasy moment of silence. They were
laughing and Audra was dressed in a lovely blue day dress, having just returned
from the orphanage. They saw the guest and walked into the den.
“Heath’ll be in in a minute.”
“That’s fine, Nick. Nick, Audra, this is our guest, Mr. Witherspoon.” Nick
extended his hand.
“Pleased to meet ya.”
“The sentiment is reciprocated. You would not mind were I to kiss the hand of
your lovely copulative?” Jarrod thought he knew what that meant and inserted
himself to save Nick.
“Of course you may kiss her hand, though you may send our sister into flights
of fancy at such gallantry.” Heath chose that moment to walk in.
“So I take it you are the other rancher brother?”
“Yes, sir. Name’s Heath.”
“So I’ve been told. I’ve also been told that you and your brother may be able
to answer a question of mine.”
“Shoot.” Jarrod was amazed at Heath’s ease in dealing with someone like
Witherspoon.
“Ah, shoot..... Well, I was wondering what you do with all the cow-sharen.” He
looked to Nick.
“Well, Heath knows more about that than I do.” Witherspoon shifted his gaze.
Jarrod looked at Heath, trying to figure out what he was going to say. Heath
looked down and, after a moment, he replied.
“Not a problem. The ranch is very large.”
“Of course! I should have thought of it. You are much more intelligent than I
believed initially.” Heath glared at him for a moment before returning to
silence. Victoria broke the ice.
“Well, I believe lunch should be ready now. Why don’t we all eat?”
“I do hope you have a lithermon’s load of sustenance, madam.”
The meal was barely tolerable for Jarrod. The other family members put up a
good front, but the man was incomprehensible. Jarrod dreaded the thought of
another ride with the man. It bothered him so much as to give his face an
almost grey appearance. Towards the end of the meal, Victoria took note of it.
“Jarrod, are you feeling well? Perhaps it would be best for you to rest. I can
get one of the hands to take Mr. Witherspoon back to town. Is that acceptable?”
“No need, Mother; I’ll take Mr. Witherspoon to town,” Heath volunteered.
Everyone tried to hide their shock at his offer. He was always uncomfortable
with strangers, and this man was downright odd. Jarrod welcomed an opportunity
when he saw one.
“That would be great, Heath,” Jarrod thanked. “I do feel a bit peaked. Please
excuse me.”
Jarrod watched Heath depart with Witherspoon and felt little guilty over his
shy, quiet, considerate brother taking the most singularly annoying guest he
could remember. He’d have to find a way to make it up to him.
* * * * * * * *
He handed his friend
a twenty-dollar gold piece and shook his hand.
“Good work, Abel. That was priceless.” He chuckled
“Well, next time you want to play with his mind, it just might cost you a
little more, buddy. That lawyer looked so sick by the time I finished talking I
almost burst out laughing.”
“Me, too. Thanks.”
“See you around, Heath.”
The END!
WORDS-found in “Forgotten English- A
365-Day Calendar” by Jeffrey Kacirk This little thing is a gem and good for
many laughs. I’ve shortened and sometimes adapted the definitions to take up
less space.
rigmutton- n. a wanton wench that is ready to ride upon men’s backs, or else
passively to be their rompstall. ----Frederick Elworthy’s [i]Devonshire
Glossary[/i], 1879
basket of chips- an enjoyable experience
ox-skin- the equivalent of a hide, which was five square yards of land.
hippomachie- A fight on hors[ e ]-back. Edward Phillips’ [i]New World of English
Words[/i], 1658
cow-sharen- The leavings of a cow.. .--John Brockett’s [i]Glossary of North
Country Words[/i], 1825
dungeonable- Shrewd, or as the vulgar express it, devilish.--from the same as
above.
copulative- created by Shakespeare; used usually in the plural to refer to a
couple which is courting.
lithermon’s load- a load that is too large but that is undertaken to save the
bearer from making another trip.