American citizen. [volume] (Canton, Miss.) 1864-1890, 1878-11-30
H.-NIGHT.
A TRAMP.


Farmer Thornley's stockings, wher
Baxter, the new farmland, came anG
sat down on the rude seat by the door
and hung his palm-leaf hat upon his
knee, and took his pipe from his mouth
lido you mind the pipep" he asked
Polly looked up in surprise; none OF
the farm-hands had ever consulted her
on the subject before; even Mr.. Thorn.
ley himself smoked and smoked without
a dream of asking her permission; that
is, whenever Miss Hannah was not neal
to reproach him with turning their sub.
stance into smoke. Every body de-
clared that Miss Hannah was the close
one, but that Mr.. Thornley, himself was
"mighty NIGH" They used to tell how
Miss Hannah had gone to the doctors,
once upon time, to have an aching
molar extracted, and how her heart had
failed her when he produced the instru-
ment of torture, till the impatient doc
tor was forced to say, "Come, now,
IN gire you a quarter to have it out and
done with, free of charged" and Miss
Hannah plucked up courage and con-
scented, and returned home quarter
he richer.
"Mind the pipe!" returned Polly.
"No; like it better than Mr.. Thorn
ly's."
"There's a difference in tobacco. /"
Polly, not being posted in the merits of
the staple, dropped the subject, and the
frogs filed the interval with melodious
pipings.
"What are you thinking aboutp'
asked Baxter, as she delayed her needle
and meditated.
ell was thinking that Mr. Thorn
ey's hand would make two of yours.
You weren't cut out for hard labor, Mr..
Baxter
"But the hard labor was cut out for
me, eha It's mighty fine night, Miss
Polly. Wouldn't you like to walk down
by the brook and find some violets?"
"Yes; but Miss Hannah might want
me.''
Miss Hannah has put on her spec
acles and gone to borrow Neighbor
Hooker's newspaper, and Thornley, is
stealing smoke in the orchard. It's
as good as a play to see him tuck his
pipe in his pocket, at the risk of setting
himself on fire, whenever he hears a
footstep." And then the two young
people strolled off to the brook, and
listened to a whip-poor-will making
pensive music in the edge of the woods,
and watched the evening star push the
filmy clouds aside and step forth.
Young Baxter had been on the Thorn
ley farm month or SO. He happened
one day to knock at the door and ask
for nights lodging; he had a small
bag slung across his shoulder, and a
sunburned counteHance, which quicken
ed Miss Hannah's pulses. "a tramp!"
said she. "Good gracious, Polly, shut
the door quickl No, no, we don't take
dodgers. Wen be murdered in our
beds-and the spoons my grandfather
left me! Didn't tell you to shut the
door, Polly? No, we don't take folks
in; you'll find 'commodation further
down the road, at Hooker's, or" But
Just then Mr. Ihornley came up, eau
tiously knocked the mud off his boots,
and said,
A tramp, Polly?"
"I've been tramping some distance"
said the stranger, with frank smile,
sand I'd like to put up for the night
somewhere. However, if your family's
uncomfortable at the idea, maybe you'd
let me sleep in the haymow?"
"The impudencel" cried Miss Han
nah, from within. "That would be
mighty handy for him to make off with
Lightfoot and the colt, wouldn't il, now?
Where's your wits, Hiram? Why don't
you say No. up and down?'
GAS to that, drawled Thornley,, ga
fellow must sleep somewhere; and then