The Redwood gazette. [volume] (Redwood Falls, Minn.) 1873-1940, 1878-02-14
IN AUNT MELY'S CABIN.

TWELVE O'CLOCK and a starless night
the sky bending so close to earth that
one might fancy the very steam of tn.
worlds passions condensed in the black
clouds that rolled heavily across it; nc
sound save the ceaseless soft FLASHING
of the Mississippi waves. Suddenly 4
light wind rose: a piercing shaft OF
moonlight struck through the clouds,
falling on the black letters over beer
shop. and idealizing to purple and fine
line2 some tluttering rags that hung
from dingy tenement-housc. The wind
grew stronger: the clouds We're blown
into wild shapes: the shaft of moon
light melted out into broad sheet OF
silver
\ steep bluff overhung the river:
sloping away from it were the long.
curving streets of 4 Southern city. 4
flight of stone steps led from its highest
point TO 4 flat level. where new work
shops, ruins of burned houses and long
cotton-sheds were crowded together.
1t was damp. dirty place. People
called it "Hells Half-Acre," and in
the day it justified its name. But the
moon denies her Gift of beauty to
naught. and tonight this most melan-
choly half-acre seemed to have better
right to be. One noticed then twenty
four slim white pillars. Corinthian in
design. that fire had left standing from
some stately public building. The
moonbeamS broke into 4 thousand
different shapes in the little inlets where
the river had pushed its way in. The
shapeleSs ruins were imposing in the
half-light. and heavy-scented flowers
grew above them. mingliug their odors
with the sweet, fresh smell of new TIM
Der at the planing-mill. And the river
by daylight vulgar. muddy stream
how flowed in wide, mysterious
grandeur. with distant CLEANS of silver
on its slow waves.
Across the river. on the line of am
other State. was little town, so white
and simple and still that it might
have been the home of moths and
shadows. But as the moon S
light grew clearer keen eve
might have seen a III ms form standing
at the waters edge. and a keen ear
might have heard the sound of body
falling into water. The river was mar
row at this point. and man could
easily swim across it, as this one was
doing. His body undulated under the
waves like snakes. His head, barely
visible above the water, was small. and
the wet hair chung closely about it like
a cap. When he had landed he stood
for a moment shivering with cold and
casting quick, nervous chances around
him as if he had been pursued. Then
he walked irreSolutely toward a cotton
shed. and throwing himself on the
ground, partly sheltered by bale of
cotton, he fell asleep.
The sun rose gloomily. and in its
light the place that had been almost
poetic the night before showed all
its squalid ugliness. The street
near the river, once 4 fine and
fashionable promenade, now seemed
built of the very skele ons of
houses, so busily had decay been at
work and so little had been done to
stop its advance. The very flowers
had lost their purity. and hung heavy
with little particles of cotton that had
blown upon them from the wagons
continually passing, and blackened in
the coal-dust. 1t had caught in the
delicate lily-cups; it weighed down the
roses: and in the broad foliage of the
arbor-vit;e it had woven itself in and
out until each piece was like fan.
With the sun awoke noisy life. The
cotton-drays raced along Front Row,
their black drivers standing in them
hatless, shoeless and ragged, urging on
their mules with discordant cries. The
bleating of goats was heard from the
colored settlement on the side of the
cliff as queer old aunties and uncles
hobbled out to milk them. Down on
the flat the whir of machinery began;
grimy men flung Oaths or rough jests
at each other; fatboats appeared on
the river: and the air grew dense with
smoke from the mills.
Through all, the man sleeping under
the cOtton-shed did not stir; a deep ex-
haustion seemed to hold him hand and
foot. The sun found him out and dried
his jeans clothing, warmed his bare feet,
and even tried to pierce through his cold
body to the dark, soggy earth on which
it rested. 1t beamed on his close hair
until it blew from his face, light in
color and curling at the ends. The face
was one common enough in q mails
rious country-a yellow, lean, sharp
face; besides this, it was q young,
weak, passionate face. The sunbeams
We're kind and did not wake him. The
eyelids pressed close upon the eyes, and
the lashes lay motionless on the thin
cheeks.
After time a negro passed near the
cotton-shed-One of the kind called
roustabouts" in that part of the cOun-
try-people who live in happy-go-
lucky sort of way, dependent from day
to day on stray jobs or stray thefts, never
losing flesh or vivacity, never appearing
otherwise than supremacy content with
life and their lot. This one had his work
for the day. A bag was hung over his
shoulder, and he was picking up the
loose cotton that had fallen from burst
bales preparatory to cleansing it for the
gin. He saw the sleeping man, and
became instinct with the natural hostil-
ity that the negro seems to have for the
poor white.
"Git up from dar, you lazy trampr'
he shouted, and, seeing that the man
did not stir, he picked up bit of coal
and threw it with such precision as to
hit the sleeper on his sun-burned neck.
He started up and stared around him.
with a CLEAN of ferocity in his eyes.
The negro laughed loudly. 3What
gyardin did you come outen?' he said.
T" You's enough to skeer de crows, you
is"
The man took no notice of his gibes.
but, staggering to his feet, walked
slowly across the fiat and up the stone
steps. Now and then he put his hand
to his head, in confused way. IL
must git across the city, he muttered;
there's good hiding in sum o. the
slums round the bayou
He turned up Promenade street,
walking with slow, dragging steps.
Seems TO me I'm powerful weak" he
muttered. Has it been longer'n a
day sence TUX my food?"
"Chickee! chick! chick! chick!'
He stopped at the sweet sound of a
ehild's voice, and, looking over q
broken gate, saw q little, blus.sysd