Fayetteville observer. [volume] (Fayetteville, Tenn.) 1850-1966, 1856-07-31

would have it, we spied a small cottag
not more than a furlong ahead, throug
a clump Of poplars. We made fo
this place, and reached it before W
got wet. There was a good sizet
barn on the premises. and Ion,
sheep shed connected it with tht
/, house. Beneath this shed we drove
and just as we alighted, an old maj
came out. We told him that we hat
got caught in a storm, and asked hin
ifhe could accommodate us over night
4 lie told us that We should have the
best his humble place could afford
and that if we would put up with thai
We should be welcome.
/ As sooD as the horses were taker
care Of, we followed the old man into
the house. He was a grey-headed
man, certainly on the down-hill side
of three score, and his form was bent
by hard work. His countenance was
naturally kind and benevolent, but
there we're other marks upon bis
brow than those of old age. The
moment I saw him I knew he had
Eseen much of suffering. It was a
neat room to which we were led, a
living room, yet free. from dirt and
litter. An old woman vas just build
ing fire for the supper, and as We
entered she aiose from her work.
''Some travellers, wife, caught in
the shower y said the old man. -
Surely, gentlemen, you're vel
come," the woman said, in a tone SO
mild and free that / knew she spoke
only the feelings Of her soul. "It's
a poor fare we can give, but the heart
.ofthe giver must cen make up for
that" = 'ea .2''
I thanked the good people, and
told them that I would pay them well
for all they did for us.
"Speak not Of pay said the old
woman, taking the tea kettle from the
hob and hanging it on the crane.
"Stop, wife" uttered the old man
TREMENDOUSLY. "Let not your heart
run away with ye. Ifthe good gen
tlemen have to spare out of their
abunda nee, it becomes not such suf:
ferers as we to refase the bounty"
I saw the woman place her apron
to her eyes but she made no reply
The door close by the fireplace stood
partly open, and I saw in the room
beyond, bed, and | was sure there
was some one on it. / asked the old
man ifhe had sickness.
Yes" he said, with a shake of the
head. "My poor boy has been sick
a long while. He's the only child /
have-the only helper on the little
farmland he's been sickall the spring
and summer. I've taken care of the
sheep, but I couldn't plant. It's
hard, but we don't despair. My good
Wife-God bless her shares the trial
with me, and / think she takes the
biggest share"
"No, no, John, don't say So" ut
tered the wife, "no woman can do the
work that you do.'' 4ss tfsls
81 don't mean to tell too much,
Margaret, only you know that you've
kept me up" !ssa .e4sqa aa SRA
A call from the sick room took the
wife away, and the old man then be-
gan to tell me, in answer to my ques-
tiens, some Of the peculiarities of the
great Plain, for We were on it now;
and found him well informed and
intelligent. Atlength the table was
set out, the clean white cloth spread.
and we were invited to sit up. We
had excellent white bread, sweet but
ter, some fine stewed damsons, and a
capital cup Of tea. There were no
excuses, no apologies-only the food
was before us and we were urged toI
help ourselves. While we were eat
ing the rain ceased falling, but the
weatherwas by no means clear, though
just we moved from the table al
CLEAN Of golden light shot through
the window from the setting sun.
1t may have been an hour after
this-it was not more than that %
when a wagon drove up to the door, in
which were two men. The old man
had just come ia from the barn. and
it was not SO dark but we could see
the faces Of the men in the wagon
They were middle aged men, one Of
them habited in q sort of jockey hunt
ing garb, and the other dressed in
black clothes, with that peculiar style
Of hat and cravat that marks the Off
Ger. / turned towards our host for
the purpoee of ssking If he knew the