The Plymouth Democrat. (Plymouth, Ind.) 1869-1941, 1870-04-14

| Clcpsy. She's bOrned scholard, anC
always took to readin' naturally, partickl,
to noveltry. But gets mred every incl
| goes and on three sides of the paper
there amt no partickler connection it.
be OTIS and shoes. lard and lumber, hard
ware and dry goods, and all mixed. A
good many charikters in that ere play,
says to the wife But, then, wOman's
got more savey in them things than a
man, which is supposed TO work all the
time"
Won't you go out shooting with us
this morning?" asked the Colonel.
u rather guess not | hain't been much
on the shoot o late When l was young
er, was reckOned the best shot in our
town but them days is fled and gone for
ever. Ye'd better bear to the right, after
ye git up the canon, where it splits"
And VIC left him watching us rs we role
away.
Over the brown, bare hills, guiltless of
shrub or grass, rolling away TO the north in
resistlcss waves. Crisp and brittle the turf
under our horses hoofs, the little pulls of
dust rising at every step. Into their holes
tumble the nimble squirrels, throwing
quick glances over their shoulders Now,
a startled rabbit leaps into sight, and bowls
away, unhurt by the sharp "ping" of the
bullet. Warm pour down the rays of the
sun, burning and parching the earth, and
checking the haste of our horses.
Lo! deer is seen in hollow, raising
his head in the air, and shifting at the in
truders. Just one stroke of the spurs,
and away we skurry in quick pursuit. A
young one, scarcely showing horns, but
he bounds proudly on. Closer and closer
we come, till the painting animal turns.
Crack, goes the ColOners rifle, and, with
Il bound, the tired creature falls, with a
bullet in his shoulder Then the knife
and his life has fled.
Only one did we raise that day, and, to.
ward nightfall, were only too glad to re-
trace our steps to the house, and sup on
vcnison steaks.
"Not much luck today" said Com
passes. zone deer is little among so
many"
but the skill of your wife makes us
forget the scarcity"
"Well, gentleman, that ar wife is the
only comfort ever had Clepsy is mas
ter-hand at fiXin's. There's some as has
the doin's, and hasn't the knOw-howin's,
as many rich man can't set good table.
But, if your woman has the know.howin's
a very little doin's is enough. Which
words is found in the tenth pistlc to the
CalilOrnians, or, howsomeyer, ought to
be-"
What's that, Silas?" interrupted the
wife, catching the last words. You
quotin' Scriptur. I'm ccnamost aston
ished, but, likewise, pleased"
a. didn't so fur to let you hear it but
no harms done"
"Won't you say il again, old man."
"Its no use to sell your cabbagcs
twice, says |, and | never repeats"
Like Shakespeare" inserted FOsco.
81 dunno him. Is he in San Fran
cisco."
Hardly" was the reply, followed by
an explanation.
WAL" continued Compasscs, Gas /
amt no scholard, you must pardon me fur
not takin'.'
a man must have larnin' TO take them
things" said Aunt Clcpsy, rs she took up
a dropped stitch in her prospective stock
ing Not everybody can git an eddica-
tion, and read and spell like a steam en-
CINE, without KNOWN how to milk and
I've sometimes thought as how cddication
was like tunncling for blind lead yc
don't know how much it's going To help
yc And if every boy has got n trade, he's
got SOmcthin' what no drought can kill,
and no Hood wash away, but is his'n ctcr
nally."
Yer right, there, Clcpsy," followed
Compasses. "If l had thousand and
one boys, I'd give the odd one an eddica-
ton, and give some trade To the others !;
then they wouldn't rise up agin' me at the
last day. With his health and good
trade Il feller can fight his way along, par
tickly in II country like this"
We sat, in conversation, some hours,
and, ON breaking up the circle, announced
to our hosts our intended departure the
next morning.
We're sorry To have ye co." said Aunt
Clepsy, Tor We don't git many visitors
now. It's seldom where all the people
is"
" Eut we may come to see you. again,
some day" answered.
"Thcrc's nothing sure but death and
the taxes but well be CLAD to see you, if
you come"
A long, sweet sleep, after fatiSuing
day, such as is enjoyed on the hills, in the
invigOratng air, is n boon which we
thoroughly appreciated that night, and, at
early morning, were ready TO start and,
having partakcn of hearty breakfast,
badc adicu to the old couple, and proceed
cd homcward, wondering much about the
waves of circumstances that had thrown
together two such singular waits, and
borne them to that distant spot.
1t was in the summer of 1856 that my
law practice took me again into that dis
trict; and, as | sat in the hotel of The
county seat, glanced carclessly al an old
newspaper that lay on the table. Ny eye
fell upon the following item:
.sSuIcIpE Luke Grant formerly of Texas and
proprietor of the Mud Springs Hotel, committed
sulcdc yesterday, at a m by shooting himself
through the head. lie died instantly
The paper was month old. / could
but feel sal for Compasses, and for his
poor wife ; and after the term of court
was finished, rode over to the place The
old house stood as of old; the garden
bloomed still, and the brook babbed rs
cheerfully as when | first beheld
it. Leaving my horse at the fence,
/ knocked at the door, and Aunt
Clepsy met me-but, oh! how changed.
Sorrow had plowcd deep burrows in her
once smooth brow /; and, beneath her pure
white cap. / could see many silver line.
She did not know me at first, but when |
recalled to her our former visit, greeted
me warmly, though her hand was full OF
trembling.
"You know he's gone, then; gone and
left me behind, which never did | leave
him for single day. In the sun. and in
the storm, when the wheels run well, and
when we was mircd, we was always to
gcther, and never once did we have a
ha' 'sh word. We never sourcd on each
other onst"
The poor woman's sobs chokcd her ut
terancc.
"Tve sarched the Scriptur', and tried tC
git comforted, but il don't come" she con
tinucd. "Follar me, and III show you
where we laid him."
Out in the garden, among the fragrant
flowers, was Compasscs' gravc-a simple
mound. A row of violcts bordcrcd the
swelling earth, and the brook still sang III
| song.