Nancy Knapp tells her side of a bitter family quarrel. She and her husband bought a farm with his inheritance, and his siblings accused him of turning their father against them. After that, nothing goes right: disease kills the cattle, crops fail, lightning hits the granary, and the couple has to mortgage the farm just to keep going. The neighbors take sides, and Nancy loses the small comforts she once relied on—an old friend, a short trip to Decatur. Her husband goes silent with worry. When foul smells fill the house, she does not weep or pray. She sets the beds on fire and dances in the yard as the place burns, while her husband cries like a freezing steer. Her voice is flat, resentful, and finally wild. The mood is dark and claustrophobic, a rural story of bad luck and isolation tipping into madness and revenge.
Nancy Knapp — Summary
Well, don’t you see this was the way of it: We bought the farm with what he inherited, And his brothers and sisters accused him of poisoning His father’s mind against the rest of them. And we never had any peace with our treasure. The murrain took the cattle, and the crops failed. And lightning struck the granary. So we mortgaged the farm to keep going. And he grew silent and was worried all the time. Then some of the neighbors refused to speak to us, And took sides with his brothers and sisters. And I had no place to turn, as one may say to himself, At an earlier time in life; “No matter, So and so is my friend, or I can shake this off With a little trip to Decatur.” Then the dreadfulest smells infested the rooms. So I set fire to the beds and the old witch-house Went up in a roar of flame, As I danced in the yard with waving arms, While he wept like a freezing steer.