Claiborne guardian. [volume] (Homer, La.) 1877-188?, 1878-05-15

YOUR iatc latncTs property! Ye
see" continued Capt. Rats, with
the glow Of successful authorship
mantling his cheek, "that kind of
letter neut be written 80 that by
the time she got through with it,
1t would seem as if she'd knew it
all before, and she couldn't get nary
soul to sympathize with her, aud
help her take on.' The feeling of
the majority was so strongly in ia.
vor of the last composition that
they NIL turned impatiently to the
only dissenter-Joe Fleet. But at
this moment knock on the door
checked further discussion.
1t was Jack Foster, expressman
alert, vigilant, familiar, and fate.
ful-ho1ding letter.
"For John Meritoe," said the 81.
erran Mercury, crisply. GAS We
don't have no offs nor agent at his
present address, we deliver at his
last residence He tossed the let.
ter on the table, winked, and was
gone.
1t was for the dead mantle
great first cause of their perplexity.
For few moments it lay there un.
disturbed, while tho men looked at
each other in silence. Then Cant.
Rats, with decision and independ.
ence new to him, took it up. others
no one, boys, hez a better right to
it than we has, he said. 81 pro
pose that we open it here afore
each other and read it."
GAS to opening it, l second the
notion said Joe Fleets voice. "but
we'll see who it's from before We
read it, added that honorable man.
The letter was opened. 1t was
signed "Fanny McritOe.,
"The girl herself said Fleet
promptly; tread it."
With a hesitating voice, that at
last seemed to almost simulate what
might have been the hesitating
youthful accents of the writer,
Capt. Rats began.
How shall / describe iti 1t was
simple, it was girlish, it was affec-
tomato, it was real. Against it's
candid frankness and simplicity,
poor Rats previous rhetoric as
sumed the appearance of the most
monstrous duplicity and 'deceitful
sophistry. 1t was evident that the
writer had seen but little of her
real father, and that the rather
common place, homely, often some.
what despicable figure known to
the men who now listened to her
ycarnings was not the ideal parent
OF her dreams. At last Capt. Rats
finished. There was slight husk.
mess in the Captains voice, a
slight dimness in his eye.sight as
he ended, and blur upon the fair
page that was not there when he
began.
The Colonel had dropped his
head between his two hands. Hor.
ton had never taken his eyes from
the paper. Fleet, who had walked
to the window and had been appar.
emily absorbed in staring at
the sunlight, suddenly turned,
advanced to the table, and held out
both his hands. In another mo-
ment they were locked in his com.
panions', and the four men, holding
hands, closed round the table and
the letter that lay in it's centre.
ave don't want no letter Of con.
dolence, Capt. Rats said Joe
Fleet, sturdily, "for there amt
anythin' to condole for. | don't see
just how it is, or how We can fix it,
but / knoc that that girls parents
aint dead, ez long, please God, as
we are living~
The men pressed each others
hands in silence, until Capt. Rats,
with burst of revelation, Olsen
gagged his, and suddenly brought it
against his right leg with resound-
ing emphasis:
Chats it-and it makes the
whole thing clar. We don't write
no letters of condOlence-for whyf
We goes straight on and writes ez
if we was the old man. He's let on
enough to me about hisself and his
affairs to make it as easy as fallin'
of a log. Wen just chip in whar
he let of. Wen take his hand as it
is, play out his little game, win or
lose, and if four sharps like us can't
make it easy for that child and
rake in the pot every time, we'll
leave the board. Yes, gentlemen
continued Rats, taking up the let
ter, an answer this tonight my.
self 1, Capt. Rats, late Meritoe,
Iocao ODD y