Spencer's Mountain by Jr. Earl Hamner Page B

during the evenings, Clay would leave the supper table and go calling on his friends and neighbors.
    â€œMiss Lucy,” he said to Lucy Godlove, “I am not a man that keeps records, but just looken back I can count eleven times I’ve been over here to get your washen machine goen in the last two or three years.”
    â€œAt least that many times if not more,” agreed Lucy.
    â€œAnd in all that time I never charged you a penny nor sent you a bill, ain’t that a fact?”
    â€œYes, indeed,” nodded Lucy.
    â€œWell, I’m senden you a bill right now,” said Clay. “I’d appreciate it if you’d go back to the Baptist Church next Sunday mornen.”
    â€œThey’d expel me from the Ladies Aid, Clay,” said Lucy.
    â€œDon’t you worry about the Ladies Aid,” said Clay. “I’ve fixed enough washen machines and iceboxes and electric-iron cords for the ladies of this town without ever asken for a penny. Now I’m collecten in full and any lady that don’t show up next Sunday at the Baptist Church is goen to get a sizable repair bill from me on Monday.”
    Knowing that his mother-in-law Ida would be a more difficult case, Clay did not go to her at all but instead approached his father-in-law down at the mill.
    â€œSon,” said Homer, “I’d like to help you out, but I doubt if Ida ever sets foot in the Baptist church again. You know how dead set she is against drinken.”
    â€œI know,” said Clay, “but I was thinken maybe if you switched back to the Baptists, Miss Ida might feel like she ought to come with you.”
    â€œI’ll tell you the God’s truth, Clay,” said Homer, “I don’t set too much store in a preacher that drinks liquor myself.”
    â€œMr. Homer, that preacher had never touched a drop of liquor in his life before he met me that day,” said Clay, and then compounded his lie by adding, “Another reason I wanted you to get to know Preacher Goodson is he’s part Italian like yourself.”
    â€œI vow now,” said Homer, who was especially proud of his Italian ancestry; his forebears had indeed been brought to America by Thomas Jefferson, who had hoped with their help to start a wine industry in Virginia. It was one of Mr. Jefferson’s experiments that failed, but several of the Italians he had invited to Monticello stayed on.
    â€œIt was on his mother’s side,” lied Clay, “but he tells me he’s just as much Italian as you are.”
    â€œI never heard an Italian preach, that’s a fact,” mused Homer. “I ain’t promisen you a thing, Clay, but I’ll have a little talk with Ida when I get home tonight.”
    ***
    On the following Sunday morning Clay stationed himself on the front porch where he was able to see the little road that led off to the Baptist church.
    When Olivia had herself and all the children ready for Sunday school she herded them all out onto the front porch, where she found Clay grinning happily.
    â€œWhat are you laughen about, you old possum?” asked Olivia.
    â€œFrom the crowd I’ve seen goen by, the Baptist church is goen to have an overflow this mornen,” said Clay.
    â€œWell, I’m not taken my children down there to hear a drunkard preach,” declared Olivia. “We’re goen to the Methodists.”
    â€œHoney, I can save you a long walk up to that Methodist church,” said Clay.
    â€œWhat are you talken about?”
    â€œThere ain’t goen to be any service at the Methodist this mornen,” said Clay.
    â€œHow would you know?”
    â€œWell, I just happened to run into the Methodist preacher the other day and I remarked to him that it would be kind of neighborly if he’d come over and hear the Baptist preacher’s sermon this mornen.”
    â€œAnd he’s goen to do it?” asked Olivia disbelievingly.
    â€œAt first he didn’t