Semi-weekly south Kentuckian. [volume] (Hopkinsville, Ky.) 1883-1889, 1884-02-15
AUNT SUKIE'S LUCK.

spindling like; you amt hearty, be We,
misterH" The speaker was tall, gaunt
specimen OF woman, past middle age,
almost masculine in physique. Her
complexion made you think of russell
apple with the sunshine on it, so bronzed
was it, and the hair was too gray for &C
young woman. At first you thought
she was old, but nearer approach re-.
minded you that she could not have
passed 40. The calico dress was scru.
pulously clean, and, although not in the
mode, became her with striking grace.
The faded shawl seemed honored by it's
wearer. She looked at you sharply as
she talked, and shrewd smile crept ia
her lips as if she had some hidden foun.
tain Of content.
What striking and unique character
one meets in by-ways of New England
struck out Of the native granite. They
seem rough hued at first, until you find
them sufused with an inner grace, the
magic touch Of a divine artist. I was
waiting at q little station among the
hills for the through express. 1t was a
solitary place, only one house in sight,
the horizon outlined by darkened pines
and the sandy bluff, on which the desc
late structure stood, affording one q
view Of q still, flowing river, flashing
down through the evergreens. 1t was
In the month OF June and the hills we're
beginning to bum with strange fires.
Carmine, emerald and russell fickered
against stately backgrounds of dark
blue. The robin, the blue-bird and the
crow mingled their contented notes in
the sunny air. I had an hour and half
to wait, and, because had nothing bet
ter to do, I was strolling backward and
forward on the platform nursing my
own grief, which lay heavy on my
heart. The words of the woman halted
me in my self-imposed task and a care
less curiosity caused me to enter into
conversation. How often His angels
come to me in strange disguise.
"Yes, mister, what You say is true.
The Lord Almighty does shut us In
dreadful dark corners, I expect, without
e~en a star or nothing for a CLINT O.
night. 1t beats all how kind O. rough
He appears" "You know something
about it, auntiel" I called her so, for
although no older than I she had rich
experience saw at once. claw, yes,
I have" and her eyes took on far
away expression, as il she were looking
into the unseen and eternal. "You
won't believe it, mister, nohow. You'd
think was deceiving ye." "Tell US
all about it, if you will"
We seated ourselves on low bench,
in sight of the glowing woods, the sun
light fittering through. the clear morn
ing dir; fragrant with the fresh odors Of
the year. "You see I was just past 18
when Josiah married me. He was in q
powerful hurry. He had bought farm;
the mortgage was to be worked off, he
needed wife. They did say-you
wouldn't believe it-that l was hand
some. A Boston chap had asked me to
marry him before that, and the folks
ware rather anxious, for he was rich |;
but Josiah and I had loved each other
since We woro children, and I said no.
We'll, NC were married and the farm had
n mistress. I knew all about work,
was strong and hopeful. We didn't have
any such fxings as that city chap would
have bought, but we loved each other
and our poverty was no hindrance to
that. We made batter and fatted cat
tie. The next spring Josiah raised gar
den aass, and that first year we managed
to pay 5000 on the mortgage. 1t was
hard work, and we both were q little
tired. was not quite as strong as the
summer came on"
Here she stopped as if lost in reverie
her face took that distracted look again.
"And how was it next year q" I in
quired.
She gave a sigh. Mister, my luck
began then," and dawning smile fut-
tered on her thin lips "that is, I called
it so in my wrath. Little 'Siah came to
us the second winter. and from the first