A Lesson From Pa

         
Spring had come early that year, with the warm quick rains that dewed the grass of Tara, and the sudden frothing of  pink peach blossoms across the field's that belonged to Gerald O'Hara. The shades and             tints of the Georgian sun bathed the three figures sitting on the porch of the whitewashed brick plantation home, set like an island in the middle of the rolling, lush green hills of the Georgian country.

           Sitting demurely on the front steps, surrounded by two of her beaus, was Scarlett O'Hara. Her chestnut hair was netted smoothly in a chignon and the skirts of her white prayer dress arranged carefully around her eighteen-and-a-half inch waist. But for the pretty picture that she painted of an obedient and docile young women, her cat green eyes which darted too and fro, gave away her true self. Her eyes showed her turbulent, willful, and headstrong self, hidden behind the reprimanding of her mammy and gentle scolding of her mother.

"Fiddle-dee-dee. War, war, war. This war talk's spoiling all the fun at every party this spring. I get so bored I could scream. Besides, there isn't going to be any war," she remarked as she waved a flower between her tiny hands.

         "Not going to be any war," cried the twins indignantly.

         "Why, honey, of course there's going to be a war," replied Stuart, trying to convince Scarlett, his efforts in vain.

         " Great balls of fire! If either of you boys says 'war' just once again, I'll go in the house and slam the door," remarked Scarlett decisively, her chin tilted in the air and her eyebrows raised.

        "But, Scarlett honey!," called Brent indignantly

        "Don't you want there to be a war?" added Stuart.

         Scarlett rose and started walking toward the door with her head held high, and the boys rose after her calling,
"Scarlett honey, please. We're sorry. We'll talk about something else. I promise we will."

Scarlett talking with the Tarelton's

         Scarlett settles back on the doorstep, pleased with her crafty manipulation, as the boys begin talking about the barbeque the next day at Twelve Oaks, the nearby Wilkes' plantation.

        "But you're giving us all your waltzes at the ball tomorrow night, aren't you? First Brent, then me, then Brent again, and so on?" asked Stuart nodding his head between himself and his brother.

        "Promise?" begged Brent.

        "Why, I'd just love to-," began Scarlett leading them on.

        "Whopee!" shouted the boys.

        "If only-if only I didn't have every one of them taked already," she finished with a demure smile.

        The boys promised to tell her a secret if she gives them the waltzes. "A secret! Who about?" she asked with her eyes lighting up, curiousily overcoming her.

        "Well," said Stuart. "You know Melanie Hamilton from Atlanta-

        "Ashly Wilkes' cousin? Well she's visitin' the Wilkeses at Twelve Oaks-", continued Brent.

        "Melanie Hamilton! That goody-goody! Who wants to know a secret about her?" said Scarlett with an obvious lack of intrest.

        "Ashley Wilkes is going to marry her," blurted Brent.

       "Now do we get all the waltzes?" asked Stuart.

       Scarlett's face registered shock, pale and drawn, her eyes burning and her lips slightly opened to reveal her mouth. "Of course," said Scarlett automatically and emotionless as she rose to her feet and started away.

      "Where're you going?" called Stuart.

      With a burning passionate intensity she muttered to herself, "It isn't true! It can't be true! Ashley loves me!"

         As she dashed away from the house she heard a familiar voice calling her, the harsh scolding of Mammy. "Miss Scarlett! Miss Scarlett! Where you goin' widout yo' shawl, and the night air fixin' to set in? And huccome you didn' ask the gempmum to stay for supper? You ain' got no more manners dan a fiel' han'- and after Miss Ellen and me done labored wid you. Come on in de house. Come on in before you get your death o' dampness."

            "No! I'm going to wait for Pa to come home from the Wilkeses," she called as she scurried into the woods.

Tara's Theme

          Gerald O'Hara rides his finely bred big white horse at breakneck speed toward the direction of the plantation, clearing a narrow stream and ducking expertly under the tree branches which he passes. He heads directly for the fence to the road and the horse takes off for the second jump and clears it with ease. "There's none in the county that can touch you, nor in the state," he laughed to the horse, as he smoothed his hair and cravat.

        All of a sudden a high-pitched laugh is uttered and Scarlett runs toward her father who pinches her cheek with a slight show of embarassment. "Well, Katie Scarlett O'Hara. So you've been spying on me! And like your sister, Suellen, you'll be telling your mother on me-that I was jumping again," he said.

 "Oh Pa," said Scarlett with disdain. "You know I'm no tattle-tale like Suellen. But it does seem to me that after you broke your knee last year jumping that same fence...

    "I'll not have my own daughter telling me what I shall jump and not jump. It's my own neck, so it is," he said reprimandingly.

         The conversation advanced to Gerald's visit to Twelve Oaks, him telling Scarlett that Melanie was visiting the family from Atlanta. "Melanie Hamilton! A pale-faced, mealy-mouthed ninny-and I hate her," replied Scarlett, her face dark and contemptuous.

       "Ashley Wilkes doesn't think so," said Gerald.

      "Ashley Wilkes couldn't like anyone like her," responded Scarlett flaring.

      With aroused suspicion Gerald asked, "What's your intrest in Ashley and Miss Melanie..Has he been trifling with you? Has he asked you to marry him?... I had it in strictest confidence from John Wilkes this afternoon that Ashley's going to marry Miss Melanie. It'll be announced tomorrow night at the ball."

"I don't believe it!" said Scarlett, runing off 

   Gerald ran after her and realized what her conflicts were. "Have you been making a spectacle of yourself? Running about after a man who's not in love with you when you might have any of the bucks in the county?"

   "I haven't been running after him," said Scarlett turning away from his eyes. "-it's just a surprise, that's all."

   "Now don't be jerking your chin at me," scolded Gerald. "If Ashley wanted to marry you, t'would be with misgivings I'd say 'yes.' I want my girl to be happy...and you'd not be happy with him."

    "I would, I would," rambled Scarlett.

    "But what difference does it make who you marry, so long as he's a Southerner and thinks like you?," asked Gerald.

    Gerald's opinion of marriage

    "And when I'm gone-I'll leave Tara to you-" continued Gerald.

    "I don't want Tara! Plantations don't mean anything when-"

      Gerald's Tara

     " Do you mean to tell me, Katie Scarlett O'Hara, that Tara- that land doesn't mean anything to you? Why, land is the only thing in this world worth working for, worth fighting for, worth dying for-because it's the only thing that lasts."

    "Oh, Pa, you talk like an Irishman," said Scarlett in a disgusted tone of voice.

    "'Tis proud I am that I'm Irish, and don't you be forgetitn', Missy, that you're half Irish, too- And to anyone with a drop of Irish blood in them, why, the land they live on is like their mother. Oh, but there, there now, you're just a child. It will come to you, this love of the land-There's no getting away from it if you're Irish.

    Later, Mammy scurries about trying to prepare the house for Miss Ellen's arrival. "Cookie! Stir up de fiah-Miss Ellen's home!" she calls, all the while muttering to herself about how Miss Ellen slaves all day over " dem low-down, po' white trash Slattery's.."

   Mrs. O'Hara has just returned form the bedside of Emmy Slattery, the mistress of Jonas Wilkerson, the overseer. Emmy has given birth to a child who died just as soon as it came into the world. When she arrived at the door Jonas Wilkerson called to her apprehensively. "Mrs. O'Hara, we finished plowing the creek bottom today. What do you want me to start on tomorrow?"

   "Mr. Wilkerson...." she said with a pause. "I've just come from Emmy Slattery's bedside. Your child has been born..."

   Wilkerson pretended shock at this and retailiated by saying, "My child ma'am? I'm sure I don't understand-"

   "Has been born and-mercifully-has died. Goodnight, Mr. Wilkerson," she finished coldly.

   Ellen makes her way into the den and requests that Gerald dismiss Mr. Wilkerson. "Dismiss him, Mrs. O'Hara? He's the best overseer in the county."

  "He must go tomorrow morning the first thing," said Ellen firmly, and Gerald agreed after she whispered the reason into his ear.

  Suellen and Careen flew down the stairs with Scarlett following closely behind them. At sight of Scarlett's drawn face Ellen took her hand and said, "Scarlett, you look tired my dear. I'm worried about you."

  "Oh, I'm all right, Mother," replied Scarlett soflty.

  As the family gathered together for prayers, Scarlett had an earth shattering thought. "But Ashley doesn't know I love him," she gasped at the sudden revelation. "I'll tell him. And then he can't marry her!

  When Ellen's sharp eyes spotted her daughter's unmoving lips, she cast her a sharp look and Scarlett continued her prayers, "-and all the Saints to pray to the Lord our God for me."

Onward....