The home journal. (Winchester, Tenn.) 1858-188?, 1881-11-02
"a woman who speaks her mind-and a

| I'''N''NA
erty and social position. she was allowed
10 exercise her privilege to her hearts
content. A tongue like forked light
ming, when occasion required, but n
heart o'erfiOwingwith love for the strug.
Cling and suffering. Cyrus Deaue shift.
ed his hoe uneasily. 81 don't see Leow
you make it eout thet Pm a.goin'
any EASTERN other folks. / hain't done
nothin' to disobleege you thet | know
"Yon know what | mean. | was I'M
to Jerry's last night" She gave him
another steady look from those Rhada-
manthus-hke glasses. His gaze fell be.
fore hers.
81 haint pizened none o Jerry's cri:,
ters, nor set his barn atirc, hev II"
You've pizened his peace o. mind.
You've worn him ont with worry, till
he's walkin' ghost / set great store
by LOUSY Ann, | do, and when | see
her a-gittin that fit o high-stercks last
night, all along o your hardness and
scrinchin meanness, | como as nigh
bilin' over as ever | did in my life
Your own brother. Cyrus Dcane The
little, curly-headed chap that like
enough, slept on the same pillow with
you many night. What would your
mother ha' thought, eff she'd ha' knowed
hcow different you'd turn out?"
Cyrus Deane drew down his bushy
eyebrows, and gave an energetic kick to
a small bowlder.
"Jerrys he'd ez good a chance to git
along e2me. We started even. It's lis
own lockout He haint no hand to
managc-never was-never could git
fore handed in his born days !"
1.-The more reason why you ought to
| be merciful. He hain't he'd eA good a
chance cz you. The year that your
barns was groanin' an runnn' over, his
wheat got the wecvil, an his corn
kctrhed the miIdew. His cattle died,
an his tools was stole He laid sick
with rheumatic fever, and he'd doctors
bill of $50 to pay. Do you call tibet cz
good chance c2 yours? LOUSY Ann
works e2 hard cH any womau-cookin' au'
clpanin' an gruhbin an never had the
fust scrap O hired help, 'ccpt for eleven
days wen Cissy was a baby--an' She
never gifts II ride in a bran-new buggy,
nuther" casting keen glance toward
the wagon she'd
Cyrus mopped his beaded brow with
red cotton handkerchief, and took up
his hoe with a determined air, aS ii to
end the conference.
"I hain't been harf AZ hard on him ez
some folks would ha' been. I've gin him
time, and gin him time, till NV patience
Eo clean tucIcrGd eout, an he keeps
a-Tallin' behind instid of gittin' forrard.
He's younger'n he, he kin go West !"
Miss Mahala took of her "shakcr, "
and shook ont the cape, Strengthened out
thc bow, and SGT it on her head again,
then said, in slow, measured tones
May tho Lord hev mercy os your
soul, Cyrus Deane Ef He measured 1t
cont to you cz You do to other folks,
you'd hey precious little to be thankful
for"
She walked slowly down the road, and
Cyrus went on with his hOcing. He
didn't consider himself hard man.
Honest outwarlly, he was, as Jerry had
said, but d" war to the knife to get his
own" In two short weeks he could
foreclose the mortgage, and Jerry little
place would he his own. Would he do
it? Mss Mahala's words were verlulce
to his conscicncc-fOr u bricG minute
nobler feelings strove with his greed OF
gain, then, dashing down the hoe:
"No! Jerrys got to look eout fer HIM
self. He's grown man-not II baby!
Why carn't tibet old vinegur-faco mind
her own business
In the afternoon he drove to the next
town in his new buggy. A little tlossy
haired girl ran out from a nook IL the
woods, and cried:
"Man- -man-take little ride, do,
please"
He reincd up the horse and helped
the little creature in. Cyrus Denne had
one soft spot in his heart-it was for lit
tie tiny children. No prattling lips had
ever called him "father." 1t would
have been better for those no had to
deal with bad it been otherwise.
"And whose little gal be you, pray,
out here III the woods alonc?' ho
asked.
"Tm Cissy Dcane, and mamma lets
me 90 to the big rock by myself, cause
] know the way" She looked up and
gnye a little howl. "Let me out !! Oh,
let me out You're bad, dreadful
mani You're the nan that made my
papa crf
She scrambled down, andshaking her,
tiny fist ut the buggy, stamped her
foot, and ran away.
A bitter look came into Cyrus Deane's
face. "My own brothers youngster-
an / never would ha' knowcd her ef
she hadn't told me her name. She'll
hate me too, Ike as not "
He whipped up his horse and drove on
rapidly. Fate seemed determined to
thrust the mortgage business III his face,
at every turn. He had two weeks be-
fore him. He could change his MUD
whenever lie chose. Should he do it?
Cyrus Deane and his wife We're eating
tnerr early breakfast next morning, wnen
Miss Mahala gave short knock ut the
kitchcn-dOor. then. according to the pre-
vallmg custom, opened 1t and walked IN.
With rather grim "good morning to
CYRUS, and stitlsh nod to Mrs. Deane !
Number Two, who handed her chair,
she proceeded at once to the business
that had brought her there.
"Heow much ill YOU give fer that |
Ing blackberry lot o nine, Cyrus Dcanc,
south Of Anthony Woods placc?'
Cyrus looked surprised. "Why, what
he YOU wantin' to sell that blackb'ry lot !