Southern standard. (McMinnville, Tenn.) 1879-current, 1881-06-11


run and what roar they make. 1t was
just awful that day. l never saw any
thing like it. 1t was reported that the
Tram Hollow fire was accidental, and
that the fire started from some sparks
that had been smoldering in a stump
pile. That's all nonsense, for | started
the fire myself and had to run for life to
keep out of its way. Like crazy fool
l ran down the valley, with the wind and
the fire following mo like monster
ready TO avenge itself. There were
some houses down in the valley and they
used to call the place Oil Centre, and
when l reached the first house the fire
had caught up to me and jumped into
the creek and ran down in safety out OF
the reach of the fire.
Pretty soon | came to house that
belonged to woman, and it was all she
had between her and poverty, and / saw
her trying to carry out some things, but
before she could do anything the fire
swooped down and caught up that house
like a whirlwind. That woman turned
to me, gave one unearthly, heartrending
scream and tainted away. | took care
of her until she was able to walk, and
then put her in charge of some of her
friends. Oh, that awful scream! have
heard it many times since, and | heard
it tonight while you were here. 1t has
haunted me day and night; it has given
me no rest. l sometimes think that the
pauper | killed was relative of hers,
and that her scream comes to ME in
punishment for the deed. You know
the result of that Tram Hollow firep
Scores of people thrown on the world
homeless and penniless; thousands upon
thousands of dollars lost; children cry
ing for bread about the skirts of their
heartbroken mothers. | have since done
what l could in feeble way to see that
those homeless people did not suffer for
the necessaries of life; but, oh, the re-
morse that has gnawed at my heart
since that fatal day Why, oh, why did
ever touch the accursed whisky that
made me fiendP Why, oh, why did
the woman l loved drive me to thisp'
He stopped as if stricken dumb, his
eyes glaring wildly from their sockets,
his face picture of horror and fear.
"My God" he shrieked; "that
scream again! Did you hear itP No,
how could you, for it comes only to me.
feel that I'm going very fast now, and
oh, l hope God has forgiven me. Come
closer. Here, take the picture and keep
it, and-some-day show ito the
woman it represents-and tell her-and
tell her-I-I-loved her to the
the-last"
The galight came struggling through
the cracks in the rough cabin and fell up
on an upturned face, from which had
faded sorrow and care and hate and
fear, and all things earthly, and which
as the angel of death released the suf
fering spirit, reflected from its cold form
the look of peace and love of the dead
but unforgotten past. Slowly, rever.
emily, l closed the door of the rude
building and left the dead alone with
the changing shadows under the moan
ing pines. Out into the wintry night
down the little valley to the test-well,
walked as in a dream, and as | opened
the door of the derrick and stood before
the giant form of Big Jack Sanford, tina
lTge-hearted man gazed at me in sur
prised silence.
'The man up at the shanty-" be
gan, and lump seemed to come int
my throat all at once.
"Yesp" said Jack, interrogatively.
"He is is-dead!" and l sat down
on the anvil in sheer despair.
"What! Jim BartonP Torpedo
JIM"
l could only nod assent.
"Dead Torpedo jim dead! Poo
JIM" And great sob shook the burl,
form of the driller as he CROPPED blindl,
for the throttle wheel.
Softly we entered the little cabin ant
stood in the presence of the dead.
seemed so strangely that death shoulC
come down and lay his hands on the sicI
man under the health giving pines;
didn't seem like other haunts of death
like funerals in churches and gran,
houses, where Borrowing friends crow
around the silver-trimmed casket an
take a last look at the tenement of clay
There it was pomp and worldly sorrow
here it was poor, unfortunate Jane
Barton, Torpedo jim, lying in his bun
, so cold and still and silent. We sat i
the little cabin long while in silence
: each man busy with his own thought
and strangely affected by the presenc
of death in the lonely forest. The nigh
wore on apace and after awhile Big JAG
Sanford, the driler, rose and went OF
, of the room into the early morning
closing the door carefully, as if afrai
he might disturb the corpse of his frienC
, Hours passed and as one by one the stan
faded away and the sun came gleamin
, through the tree-tops the tool-drosse
and ! dropped off to sleep, and when W
were awakened by the sound of footSter
on the frozen snow we saw Big JAG
/, coming toward the cabin with roug
= hemlock box shaped like coffin.
! 1t isn't so nice as | could wish,
a said Big Jack, as he deposited his bu
, den on the board table; but it is til
, best we can do"
With the loving tenderness of n fl
Their, Big Jack gathered the inanimpt
form of Torpedo jim in his strong arm
= and laid him gently in the narrow coffil
: : And then he and the tooldresser LITE
! ! the remains and carried them throug
\ the doorway and down the path leadir
u past the well. 1t was the most sorrow
) full funeral procession | have ever seer
it wasn't mnch of procession, to
S sure. Jack and his fellow-worker le
e the way with the body and followe,
e Yet there was sorrow there; sorrow fl
e the dead and aching hearts and broke
Il signs joined with the moaning pines
g chanting requiem for one to who
fate had been bitter enemy. Dow