The Milan exchange. (Milan, Gibson County, Tenn.) 1874-1978, 1880-06-03

from somewhere. | viii say for him he
always carried his freight fair an
square, an, as | say, might made an
honest livih' if he'd liked.
This time I'm cellin' about was
sweet-corn time and plenty of nice
roasting ears, an Old Dunning calkila-
ted to live pretty easy. He was half
way up the lake, nigh a tirst-rate gar
den patch he hadn't never been to, be-
cause the man was pretty stuffy an had
said he'd fog 'em all, and give them a
ducking too, if they meddled with him.
1t was dark night and a pretty stiff
breeze, an the sloop came along after
nightfall an cast anchor. The boys
went ashore an filled a sack with sweet
corn an going back they Just wrung
along. They see the wind was goin'
down some, but they concluded it
would be all right, so they just hoisted
anchor an went below. First, though,
they shucked the corn and picked the
geese an threw the shucks and the
feathers overheard, an then they lit
fire an had a royal supper; eat Just like
them Frenchers, an then got ready to
turn in. Went on deck an cast anchor
Il guess we're far enough out now to
keep 'em from lookin' us up says old
Dunning, and they went to bed.
They slept pretty heavy, and it
wasn't till late the next morning that
they reused up. Old Dunning woke
first, an started up on deck with
goose's drumstick in his hand. He
rubbed his eyes when he got there and
wasn't sure but what he was dreaming.
The sloop hadn't stirred one inch. 1t
was a dead calm, and there they were
not thirty rods from shore, an them
shucks and feathers jest lynn on the
water tellin' their own story. An be-
fore he could make up his mind what
he'd better do he see the man pulling
off from shore and the Sheriff along
with him.
They say the devil helps his own,
an it does look that way sometimes.
What do you think? Old Dunning went
forward an helped them aboard, an
he points to them shucks an feathers,
an he says:
a. Ye see, I've Jest lain in right here.
| told them boys when they come
aboard with that corn an them geese,
| said to them, Boys, SEE |, you was
hungry, an we hadn't lain in enough to
last, an there's some excuse for you,
bein' boys, but | tell you this, cook
what you've got, but here l stay, an in
the mornin' Pm going ashore to pay
for every mite you've taken. Robin
sons fair man, an when he sees I'm
fair he won't want to prosecute, but, by
the Lord Harry! I'll give you to the
Sheriff mysel fif ever catch you at such
doings again" That's what said to
the boys
" For a moment Robinson looked at
the Sheriff, an the Sheriff looked at him.
They was master hands for joke, an
they see through this one well enough.
They bIrst out laughing, an Robinson
says, We'll, Dunning, We'll let it 90
that way this time. Hand out your
money
"Old Dunning kind of WINGED, but
he took out his wallet and paid two dol
lars and fifty cents.
"'Call again, Dunning,' the Sheriff
says, as they pulled off. I've got some
pretty good geese myself, and I'll trade
all you like on the same terms
Cunning grinned, but he looked
pretty black; an them boys of hiS'n was
black and blue too, whenhe got through
with 'em. First thing they knew he
had 'em out on the cabin floor an was
given It to 'em with ropes end. Still,
they was used to that, an it soon passed |
over when they found out what he was
at them for. They was reasonable !
enough to see ioggin' 'em was the only
thing to ease his mind. Anyhow, that's |
the way | account for their always stick |
in together. The house burned down |
one night in one O. their frolics, or after |
it, when they was both drunk, an one |
o. 'em was burned pretty bad, an died. |
Then the rest come down here-Pete |
Dunning an what children there was.
That's their place half way up the east
bank as you 90 down towards the island"
Then these boys are not old Dun !
ning's boys at alp"
mo, not his'n, but Pete's. There !
amt but two boys; but there's four or
five gals all livin' in them two rooms,
an how, the Lord only knows. They |
don't beg, that's one good thing about |
them; but they're wilder than hawks, |
an they amt as civilized as heather. l |
don't suppose one of 'em can read; an
them two boys, Antoine and Pete, they |
ravage round in all the gardens, an
they've got all the cutenesS of their ia |
Their an their grandfather, too. and you
can't catch 'em. Eve knowed folks |
with grapes sit up three nights running |
with shot-guns, an no sign of 'em; an
the fourth night there wouldn't be a
bunch left Now what l say is: What |
you goin' to do with 'em? If they'd !
been this side the line, they'd had to
earn to read, anyhow; but even when
hey were burned out they hung on, for
hem French are clannish, and faint |
ong that they've been here. Some
.hin's got to be done soon."
Old Hiram hobbled away as the
5welve O'Clock horn sounded from the
Just across the river and
Ruth walked out to the gate and stood
ooking down the village street toward
he Fork" and the little library build
NO. That at least was an accomplished
act, but how many could it influence?
What power could touch this strange
hybrid population over on JOhnnycake
Hill, or down in the valley beyond East
Lowgate?
She walked slowly up and down the
ong piazza as she thought. These
Boys had been on her mind long
line, and she knew them far better
han Hiram supposed. From the be-
ginning, in spite of their reputation,
here had seemed more in them
han the majority, even of those bet
5er born. She had met them often,
.o,,n ntirnnS nnrnnit,r 1..ith q St1.ircr of fish