The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1876-12-13
JOHNS PROMISE.
An Incident of Western Pioneer Life.

An Incident of Western Pioneer Life
Sumner was mushroom city which
had sprung up On the banks of ravine
that cut through the western bluffs OF
the Missouri. In thicket of oak sap.
ings, high up on the side of one OF
; those bluffs, stood q hastily built house,
sided with rough, upright cottonwood
boards, rusty stovepipe sticking
through the roof small window, cur
tanned by a scollop edged newspaper;
and white door taken from sunken
steamboat, whose nicely finished panels
contrasted strangely with its surround
:ngs, completing the exterior.
80 One pleasant May evening, just as
the shrill whistle of steamboat echoed
among the hills, this door was opened
bya pleasant young woman, who was
followed by crying child.
"Oh, Sammy, quit your noise; that's
pappy's little man; see the great boat
way yonder )" lifting him up; "don't
you see2 look right sharp now, close
ag'in' the bank. Does Sammy want to
70 down town and see the big boat, and
see pappy2" The willing feet toddled
down the path; but the mother called:
"Wait a bit, and nanny II pack
Sammy" and, tying on pink sunbon-
net, she took him in her arms and start
ed down the steep, crooked path.
She reached the steep main street to
find it filled with wagons that had been
turned crosswise of the street, to rest
the teams. But, edgiDg her way close
to the clay bank, she reached the river
Just as the steamer was leaving the
wharf. The srorting of the engine and
the shouting of the deck hands, togeth-
or with the putting of the mill near by,
was too much for baby bravery, and
Sammy's lip begun to quiver. Catch
ing him in her arms, his mother sat
down on a sawlog, saying "There,
there, honey, don't be afeared, be
pappy's man, now"
The tide waves of the receding boat
sunk lower and lower on the sand; the
gay crowds that leaned over the guards
grew indistinct, and she peered more
and more eagerly in among the tall cot
tonwood trees on the opposite shore. At
length four men came out of the woods,
and, entering q skiff, started across the
river. She watched the skiff an1iously,
for it frequently disappeared between
the waves which were raised by the
strong south wind.
Four rough looking men, in red
wooden shirts-for lumbermen did not
pretend to wear coats, except IN the
coolest weather-jumped out of the
skiff, and, with boisterous laughter and
rude jests, entered the mill. Presently
one of them spies her and came to-
ward her saying, boisterously =:
"Hoorah for you, Nancy Whatever
brought you'un down ERE this time
of evenin'! Mighty fine doin's, when
you oughter be to home gettin' your
old man bite O supper Packed that
young nm down, too, I'll bet Reckon
you'd as well get back right quick,
now!" He snatched the baby from her
and tossed him on his shoulder, shout
ing: "Hoorah for pappy's man
Peertest boy in this ERE town! Mighty
prond to see his pap!" Poor Nancy I
Her husband was drunk again.
She hurried up the street, pinning
her deep sunbonnet more closely
about her face, that the passers might
not see the tears that would come. He
had kept sober 80 long that she had
hoped he would come home sober again.
She had anticipated 90 much pleasule e
OF meeting him, aft his weeks alb
sence. How often she had thought Of
it in those long, lonely nights, when
sho had only her child and hel thoughts
for company.
It took but few minutes to put sup
per on the table. Then she sat down on
the doorstep to watch for her husband,
worrvin. all the time lest he let some
thing happen to Sammy. When at last
he cnme the effects of the liquor we're
wearing off, and he ate his supper and
emoked his pipe in sullen silence. She
could not eat mouthful, but she dared
not let the tears come, for she knew
that it would make him angry. So she
fed Sammy, laying her face on his little
head once in while, to force back the
choking lump that kept rising in her
throat. Then she fastened to rock him
to sleep, lest his fretfulness should dis
turb his father.
The first peep of dawn found her
busily preparing breakfast, for she
knew that John wanted an early start.
The sound of the coffsemill woke him
from his heavy sleep, and he lay quiet
~ watching her by the light of the dim
lamp, as she moved quickly back and
forth from table to stove from thence to
the little row of shelves, in lieu of cup
board, setting on the dishes, Watching
the bacon, and taking the crisp corn
dodger from the oven. "She is dear,
good wife" thought he; "what scoun
lrel was to make her feel SO badly"
He knew that he had been rough to her
the night before. He wished that he
could remember what he said. OF
course he never got dead dunk, but he
wished that be could forever let whisky
alone.
His breakfast was just TO his liking,
and bis wife as cheerful as if he was the
best man in the world. He wanted to
say something pleasant to break the
awkward silence, but he did not know
how to begin. He had an uncomfort-
able feeling that he ought to beg her
pardon but, being man, of course he
did not condescend to that. At length
be begun by saying &" You was right
peart about your breakfast this morn
ing, Nancy"
"Oh, | allowed most likely you'd
want to get off soon, she answered.
Eyes, Jones wants MS there agin sun
up. It's only fifty-log raft; reckon
we can get it down to Leavenworth ag' IN
the night train starts, and I'll get right
on, and be back to Atchison afore day.
Don's catch me foolin' away another
day round that old fort.
"Oh, John ! I'm so proud l-she
paused abruptly. for his eyes dropped
with look of conscious shame. What
mood Was he ins Would it do to speak
then2 He had showed back from the
table. and there was serious, far-away
look IN his eyes, but nothing sullen or
forbidding.
She went around, and dropping on
her knees beside him, slipped her arms
about his neck, saying "Oh, John, I
wish you'd promise me you'd never
drink any more whisky"