The Colfax chronicle. [volume] (Colfax, Grant Parish, La.) 1877-1981, 1880-10-16

she saw her that night take them
from the roost and secure them in a
wicker basket, she muttered to herself.
"Wen mornin' comes she'u let them
loose again. knows her,"
But Aunt Rebecca was mistaken TINS
time. The morning found Lilah gnlp-
ING down her tears over the sacrifice,
but determined to make it. As she tied
ON her sunbonnet, she said to her
mother:
81 ain't caught but six of the pullets.
The other two look sick and droopy,
and reckon I'd better let 'em alone
for while"
Her mother nodded her head. at
don't pay to sell sick chickens, honey.
De folks links you do it a-purpose.
You'll be passin' Granny Hynson's
house, and want you to stop and ak
how she is. hearn tell she was nifty
bad wild misry in her back and legs.
Pore ole critter, she amt got no kin
here, and de Lord above knows how
she Ibis! I reckon she's one OBJ de
Lords poor, and wot you does fur her,
you does fur him." i.ea 49,,
Walking along to Swamptown. which
was about mile from her home, Lilah
found that the picture of poor old gran
nv, sick, helpless and alone, would
keep thrusting itself before the beatific
vision of the rcd and yellow hat.
Granny had come to that part OF the
country about a year before, with q son
| who died soon after their arrival. The
lnfirm woman, over seventy years OF
l age, had come as pauper on the parish
for the pittance which kept life in her
worn-out frame.
Her CHEEKY patience and piety were
something remarkable. No one had
ever heard her complain under the Bit
terest circumstances.
But to Delilah this old cOlored wom-
ans lot seemed something terrible. "lf
| I was her." she muttered. Is reckon
I'd feel like KILN myself and gettin'
rite out of the world. When people
gets poor and helpless and nobody even
to give 'em drink of water, it's better
to be dead and out of it."
She had reached the cabin, rather a
lonely place, and on the outskirts OF
the village of Swamptown. Delilah
gently pushed the unfastened door open
and entered the only room the cabin
contained. 1t was not an uncomforta-
Bile room and the neighbors, who were
very poor themselves, had done their
| best to make it habitable.
There was a patchwork curtain at
the one small window. On deal table
/ in the corner was plate OF untasted
victuals, pitcher and cup. The bed
was covered with clean home-spun
sheet and the pillow-cases were Of the
same material
But what q wasted, dried-up, little
dark face lay on the pillow, with eyes
tightly closed? Lilah's heart gave q
frie htened leap. Was granny dead!
No; she moved and muttered and smiled
and then her eyes. dim eyes they were:
opened and fixed themselves on the
girl. !,
lis dat you, HannahP' she asked,
family.
"No, it me, Lilah Winters; 1 stopped
in to see how you was"
81 fought it was Hannah. She stops
wild me all she kin, but de good chile
is got to help her nanny. l tole hel
1 didn't need anybody. Yes, honey,
amt no wuss. 1 was asleep wen yOt
come in and at first didn't seem to know
you. De Lord did send me SIGH pleas
ant dreams didn't feel like wakin'.
thinks feel quite peart, but weak, hon.
ey, monstrous weak"
Z" You amt eat your breakfast, gran
n.y." Lilah said, with glance at the
untasted food.
No, honey. De folks is good ant
kind, and dey sends me bread ant
meat. Take It sometimes from der
selves and de chilluns, reckon. Blu
somehow, my stummick goes agin porl
and corn bread It's mean and Ongrate
full to feel SO; but den, you amt 'counta
BILE fur dem foolish ways in sickness,
reckon. Itries to eat, but amt teche'
nothin' sence yesterday mornin'.
"You see, honey, fore l coined here
I was cook in rich house, whar d
folks had turkeys and chickens cdr
day for dinner, and custards and pie
and ice-cream for dessert. ] reckone
it pampered up my stummick till
! want fit fur good plain victuals.
wasn't to say greedy, but was tickle
, bout my food. It's my fault can
|. ca. wa. ! gits' but Oh honey ain
,, "Iwish 1 had something nice for you
' granny" said Lilah. Her heart file
with the tenderest pity as she gaze
: at the wasted face and feeble move
ments of the old woman. Folks XII
starve with bread and meat in thei
hand, if they can't eat it."
: don't you worry bout me, chile.
/, A strange, wild smile lighted up he
face. ode Fader GIBBS me food you kno'
+. not OBJ. Fore went to sleep, l wa
: longin' for chicken soup. | amt ha
|. none sence lef my home, but SCENE
: to me eff 1 could git good bait OBJ it, a
: l used to make it, wild tomatoes an,
inions and parsley, it would make m
well. I neber said noting bout it t
: de folks when dey stopped in, fur chick
; ems Amt to be had, an eff dey was,
> amt gwine to glib trouble"
She fell back on her pillow. almOs