American citizen. [volume] (Canton, Miss.) 1864-1890, 1874-07-25
QUALITY HILL.

chair and her fingers in her ears
g like to hear thunder well enough
] don't know but what / do. L am moi
any afraid of that But be some scarf
of the lightning" said she, starting as the
heavens blaZed over with sheet OF
flame in instant glory, with a crash and
roar that found its way through her fat
fingers anil through two wads of cotton
bursting her ears like the trump OF
doom.
Mercy on mer shrieked Mrs Wood
cock, THAT struck. Now you may rely
upon it, as true as you are a living Great
ure, that struck
Mr. Spofferd's old sorrel horse, the
only living creature in sight, made no re-
ply, but kept on nibbling away at the
white clover on the green before the
door, He only turned his back to the
driving rain, that flew from the west to
the east so fast and so heavy that it was
more like bank of fog than moving
drops of water; and gave passing SILVER
when the rainfall changed to hail, and
ratified down in stones as large as birds
eggs.
But Mrs. WoOdcOck was above the
blind trust >of the beast; SO, pale and
trembling, she pressed her hands tighter
over her ears, and looked at a spiders
web in the darkest corner OF the room as
steadfastly as if she was sitting for her
photograph.
The thunder growled itself to sleep at
last, the lightning flashed its life away
and the sun broke out like a sudden
smile on baby's face. Still the uncon-
scious Mrs. Woodcock held on to her
ears and gaZed at the spiders web until
the outer door was flung open, and the
chore boy shuffied in. He was a hempen-
haired, buttermilk- eyed lad of fifteen,
who was either half-witted or half
Ix-I ,,t1,
HO, Aunt Prissy," he cried, what
are you keeping Independence for, the
day after the Fourth. 1t has all come
off as clear as new cider, and you are
wasting your time sitting there like a
statue. You better be mending my
pantaloOns.
As he spoke sudden sunbeam darted
through the western window and flashed
athwart the corner.
IF there isn't a cObweb right in my
Kitchen quoth Mrs. Woodcock, deliber-
ateiy putting down her fingers and her
feet, and going for wing-a gray goose
wing that hung by a strip of red calico
on a nail behind the door.
"Oh. YOU come, OrsOn? Where did 1t
striker" she continued, appearing to dis
cover the grinning boy.
The hail struck everywhere, particu:
1arly on DIR. Seacrest's grape-vines.
haven't heard as the thunder struck at
ALL not even on some folks ears re-
turned Orson, who was mainly composed
of a pair of Overgrown bare feet, blue
cotton frOck and overall, set of broad,
white teeth and weather beaten hat,
with wide, slouching brim.
You don't mean to say the doctors
grape-vines are hurt essentially, do your"
queried Mrs. WOodcOck, deaf to the I'M
pertinence as she had been to the thun-
der.
Don't know nothing about no es-
sences," replied OrsOn, who was fond of
long words, but not clear as to their use.
but l can tell you one thing, though.
You ought just to see the doctors new
grape-vines he sets so much by. The
tendous and young grapes are fairly
chewed to bits. Yes'm. / don't expect
it was an hour ago"
"How you talkr' gasped Mrs. Wood
cock, who liked to have things happen,
and the worse they happened the better
she liked it. She was very kind
hearted soul, but something to talk over
was worth as much as her dinner.
But is it sO." she continued, doubt
fully. Really and truly, Orson? Now
speak the truth just exactly as it is"
Orson had as much idea of the truth
as he had of geology.
g Yes'm," said he, getting holder. % The
doctor said to me, 'OrsOn Larely,' said
he, Il wouldn't have this Management
done to my vintonage not if you had Of
fered me a five hundred-dOllar bill right
in my hand And then he looked as
sober anything and walked straight
into the house / saw Mrs Seacrest
through the OriOl window, and she was
crying like fury You ought to take a
look at it yourself Aunt Prissy, if you
don't believe me-" he concluded in an
aggrieved tone
Mrs. WoodcOck did not believe him en-
tirely, to be sure, but there might be
something worth seeing; so, after a lit
tie rejecting, she decided it would be
handy to have dose of salts and SIENNA
in the house, and she might as well step
up to the doctors and get it then as any
time
There was no need to wait for the
grass to dry, for Mrs. Woodcock's chOco-
late and white calico, guiltless of pan
Ter and innocent of trail, did not even
brush the broad plantain leaves and the
firry speedwcIl blossoms bordering the
well-trodden foOtpath that led from her
doorstep straight into the world. And
her heavy calf-skin shoes squeaked to
scorn the idea of wetting through
So she tied on her log cabin sunbonnet
that had pert calico bow prospecting
from the top, took her crooked handled
gre en- Bingham umbrella, to act the
double part of supporter and protector,
and set out-not to seek her fortune, but
seek somebody's misfortune.
The way to DIR. Seacrest's was across
the green away from the black cotton
mills down by the river; away from the
street Of stiff white cottages, where the
mill operators lived; away from the
commonplace, two-story dwellings clus-
ter1ng around the church, the store, the
blacksmith's shop and the postoffice, to
bit of level slightly removed from
"The Hollow" by sloping hill. Here
was scattered group of houses where
the doctor, the mill-owner, the minister
and two or three prosperous farmers
lived Lived, so the Hollow people said,
." stuck up" and apart from their neigh
bOrs.
But the aristocratic isolation was all
the work of the Hollow, for, as Mrs
Woodcock often said:
Folks can choose their own place in
the world. If they have mind to hold
up their heads and be something they can
be, or they can be nobody or nothing
Either one"
Accordingly she held up her head and
made herself somebody, equally in the
kitchen of Mary Duffy, the Irish laun-
dress in Speck Lane, at the lowest dip of
the Hollow, and in the parlors of the spa
cious mansion that crowned the top of
Quality Hill.