The Milan exchange. (Milan, Gibson County, Tenn.) 1874-1978, 1884-11-01
JIM'S WIFE.

/ never saw his face, nor hers. But
I sometimes saw his hands, long and
thin and white, with that pallor pecul-
lar to plants grown in the dark and
human beings shut out from light and
air.
1t was midsummer, and the broad
street, that ran down into the open
plaza around which Comanche is built,
was white with dust, and already re-
tlected back the hot glow of scorching
sun, although it was yet early when 1
drew back the curtain that draped my
little window and look out, on the
morning after my arrival. The heavy
shadows of an immense live-oak cooled
all the front of the low. i,regularly-
built log house. into which l had come
as summer guest, but the big, square
county Jail, nearly opposite, stood naked
and bare to the light, absorbing the
heat into its solid white stone walls and
casting it out again in quivering rays
that thrilled all the breathless air.
Everything was so still just at that
moment; she herself was so motionless
standing in the middle of the street
with the child lifted in her arms, his
little bare legs showing white against
her rusty black dress and his head al
most hidden beneath the faded yellow
sunbonnet that covered her face; the
sky was of SO deep and strange blue
and the shadow of the single scraggy
mesquite beyond her lay so sharp and
black upon the dazzling sand, that
had curious sensation as if | were
looking into picture. But only for q
moment. A Gathering group OF horse
men, booted and spurred, rode past
she moved a step or two out of their
way, stopped and placed the child upon
the ground, then stood erect and lifted
her face again toward the dark, narrow
upper windows of the jail. And /, too,
looking up, saw for the first time those
long, pallid hands folded about the rus
ty iron bars
l dropped the curtain and turned-to
be smothered in morning Kisses, rs the
children, glowing, rosy, bright, came
troOping in from their early breakfast.
Toward noon of the same day i
stepped out upon the vine-hung gallery.
A glad, life-giving wind was blowing
down from the great, purple, fiat
topped mountains, just over beyond the
bright sweep OF open prairie set about
the little town, and the mesquite-groves
UP Ou luO lllllSluC N6J0 DOSSlnO lH6lI
feathery branches in it joyously. The
wonderful lapis-lazuli blue sky was
tlecked with white masses of slow-mov-
ing clouds; one of these laid half the
village square in shade, in the midst oil
which could see the town well, with
its broad stone curbing. and the knot Of
men and boys grouped about it, theil
hats off and foreheads barred to the
mind how in
tune came riding across the sun lit hal
'of the plaza. and his gay laugh fioateG
on to me ms he answered mellow hal
loo from far off in the distance. 1t was
q pretty scene, and | stood reaching fol
the Flower that swung above my head
and letting my gaze wander in delight
from purple mountains to golden val
ley and back again until it fell suddenly
upon black spot in the street close by
and realized with shock that she
was still there. The child lay at he
feet, apparently asleep. little whit,
heap in the dust; the hands had disap
peared from the window-bars above
but just where / had seen her first sh,
stood. straight, slender, silent, motion
less. The flower fell from my hanC
and the heart seemed all at once to o,
out of me.
She was always there When LITE,
my curtain in the wan gray of earl
morning, / found her there, or 1 saw
her trudging down the sandy road, witt
the child in her arms, toward her drear,
post
Day after day the pitiless August SUI
beat down upon her as she kept her sta
- tion before that gloomy facade. Some
times but not often, she sat dow
prone in the dust, but always in th
same spot-the spot whence she hes
could Gee those clinging hands. PEG
pie went up and down the street, tn
tide of labor flowed back and forth
men rode in to the various courts an
rode out again; wagons creaked by
covered with white canvas, from be
meath which the curious eyes of sallo'
women and shock-headed childre