The weekly register. [volume] (Point Pleasant, Va. [W. Va.]) 1862-1909, 1876-01-06

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81 az tplied = 90 lsun =
let it go. muse tl lQid over
that ~ oIlf'eii close
10 ie es eey hun
lifed feef i fough dslip-
pert tli sid lBp lpiys adget-
ting eeiiels tinutes ant elpnt
believe d AoFs can pull llli y y
ii Thought Of the llilie dten
wsliling Tor me yontlei & bit
fer d appointment if did 9pe.
Thcf1 said
n am very anxious to 81 I'D !
am willipg to pay vel being
Gre lapllprd, leanips oyer bar,
How rhuclis
tod him what INAa v ~ 8 70
.glYGT rett i -frtt' tt.t.
and rel tilest he
said. : i-,ts
ftaE al it was ei her
Iilce ne ilad )eeis tsl. "
FIVE minutes the stage i9Hs at the
door. It wassan ordinary box wagon,
on good, strong springs, having a
cotton cover, open in front. The
horse was q half-starved, jaded-look-
ing beast. | took all this in as |
stood on the porch waiting for the
driver. AT last, getting impatient,
| asked;
"Wherc is the driver?'
The landlord, without speaking,
pointed to an ill-clad boy standing at
the horses head. Hooked closely at
him. He might be, Thought, fifteen
years old, or he might be not more
than ten. His eyes were clear blue,
and he hearing my question, turned
them full upon mine with frank,
boyish smile, rebuking the distrust
my words implied, and lighting up
every feature of his delicate face
His complexion was like that of a
girl, his mouth small and tender his
hair yellow, and his figure slight and
sinuOus.
| looked at him, standing there
shivering with the cold, out through
the driving storm, along the snow
covered mountain road we were to
travel togethcri and asked:
care you not afraid to go?''
The landlord interrupted
at don't matter if he is afraid
He belongs to me. He shall 60"
"No," said, "ho shall not go if he
is not willing"
81 am not at all afraid,' She boy
replied, "and am quite wiling to
go. / have gone often and often
through worse storms than this.
There was an earnest, manly grace
even in the way he shook the gather
ed flakes from his tattered cap, and
in his voice there was such hearty,
CHEEKY ring, that from that,momcnt
/ trusted and loved the boy,
| JUMPED into the stage, took the
back seat, drew my great frieze coat
close about my legs, and VIC drove off
from among the gaping, sooty crowd
of miners into the lonely mountain
road, and into the crueIest storm Of
wind and snow that ! over saw.
The boy sat on the front seat, wait
ing to be spoken to, looking straight
ahead. When we were quite clear of
the Struggling huts of the miuers, on
the outermost limits of the town, |
asked him his name.
"Thcy call me Lewis Shivcly," he
said.
"How old are you, Lcwis?" was my
next question.
Fourteen next April, sir"
"Do you live at home with your
father and mother?'
"That man yondcr is all the father
or mother have, and his stable loft
is the only home ! ever had since he
took me from the poor house. That
was better than the stable, though,
for they taught me something there"
There was no complaining chords
in the tones in which these bitter
words were said, and while he was
speaking he was drawing the long
whip gently across the horses back
brushing off the snow that had fallen
on it.
"IIavc you been driving on this
road long?' l inquired.
"Going on three years; it will be
three years in March.
rs it cold out there? Colder than
in here, mean?'
| think it is" he replied; "the
wind and snow cuts so. But | don't
mind, sir; we get used to rough wealth
or up in these hills"
81 wish you would come in here;
my coat viii cover US BOTH"
mo, | can't he said. 81 must
watch the road now. We have to 60
pretty close to precipicos some
"IIow closc?" I asked
"Within a few inches l can't see
now five yards ahead, the snow falls
so heavily"
Uno ,,o,, tl,;,l. 70 :, soE, tko,, 20