The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1885-08-12
BYEE'S FOLLY.
4 PRIZE STORY.

GeOTSlc ana j, anu loOhcu al TIE oll
man who leaned on his plow surveying
us, while the two shaggy horses attached
to it lansuidly hung their heads as if in
tending furtive nap.
'I'm Charlirc Boyd; this is Georgia,
my little brother. We've come all the
way from Kansas City. We're your own
grandchildren. Mothers dead. Father
sent US here; he's gone to Arizona to
work in mine"
He looked dazcd.
sClarrissy dead, n you her children
Wal, it do beat all, An YOU sich big
gal, an him her livin' pictur, an not
KNOWN she wa gone. Come in, dears
the gates bcyant, but yc kin crawl under
the wires. There. Now lcmme look at
yer. Laws, child! don't try to kiss me ;
my face amt none to clean
He was pleasant-faced. blue eyed old
man, with long. curling white hair. His
teeth were gone, but otherwise he SEEM
ed unlike old men. for he was straight
and tall, his arms brawny and strong. His
clothing was neat, but negected-look-
in :, the buttons hanging, with little
(, ,,rs widening into large rents. l was
only fourteen, but mother had taught
me to do grown woman's work; be-
side, Georgic was five, and such baby
made me feel older.
"Wheres grandma" I asked.
For answer he pointed his thumb at 4
mound awayat the end of the level field,
where rude wooden cross was planted.
''She's thar. She went year ago.
I've lived alone sence. an it's the bless
in of Providence you children is come.
Oftentimes I've feared | might grow
desprat outer sheer lonesomeness N sor
rer. Maybe you didn't know't, but
Clarrissy n mother quarrclcd in years
gone, m never got frcn'Iy. wich was be-
cause yer ma married ycrpa, wich seemed
to ME a good man 'nutf; hut wimmen is
queer, n mother looked high for Clar-
rissy,"
ii so hungry :" cried poor little
George, his lips quivcring and his round
eyes filling with tears.
'Bless his little hcavtw said grand
father, recovering himself and patting
my cheek softly. "Hcre you be, jest OFF
a long journey, N me a-kcepin' yer in
the cold, an mcandcrin' on rs if thar
want no to-day, but all yesterdays.
How did yer Gomez" he asked, unhar-
Messing the horses.
"By rail to D.; then gentleman
gave us ride here in his fire carriage.
We came in the train with his daughter,
Miss Bessie Little. lie owns big ranch
near here"
"a fine young lady" broke in grand
father. 'Shc was like darter to yer
granma, an though she lived miles
away, she was over night an day, a.gal'
lopin' cross The plains on black horse
as isa thoroughbred, an fine spcci.
men Of horscfesh rs is seen in these
parts. She kin ride, too, n amt
feared O nothin'. Mother set q sight by
her."
We were now at the house, neat lit
tic onc-story cottage, containing four
rooms. A comfortable barn and yard
for the cattle were near, and well close
by the door. There was cosy kitchen,
sitting.room, and two bedrooms; one
the "spare room," grandfather said,
proudly. 1t looked neat and precise,
but was as cold and damp rs the tomb.
The lonely old man had faithfully swept
and busted, and kept everything where
his wife had placed, even her work bas-
ket. with a needle sticking in the half
finished gingham sleeve.
Georgia and took the spare room, and
built fire and aired the bedding, In
o few days l grew competent to take
charge of the house, put things where
she had placed them, and cook tho sim
pie meals-aud these were very simple,
for grandfather was poor. Two old
horses. two COWS and calf comprised
the stock.
II don't hcv no luck WI poultry,
Charley" he said. lie called me Char
ley, for Charlinc was too ''new fangled,' v
and Charley was the name of his dead
son. 'AIother used to raise sight, but
arter she went they begun dyin', an
what didn't die was eat by cayotes."
The last day of my first week on the
ranch Miss Bessie Little rode up to the
cabin on her coal. black horse. She was
a sweet.faced girl, blue. eyed and yellow
haired and rode beautifully. She made
herself at home, pcttcd Georgia, and l,
shy as l was, found myself contiding 20
her all my troubles and hopes. She SYM
pathized with me and helped me, cutting
a frock for Georgia AND basque for me,
and when she rode off, she promised to
come often.
The next day wagon came from her
home, and in it was fine rooster and six
hens, and big bundle of clothing that
she had outgrown and that fitted me.
How dreary the hows of the cayotcs
were at night, especially when one of
their number was killed! They would
seem to unite in chorus of maledictions.
Miss Bessie rode up one day, ana at
erhecls was an ovcrgrown shepherd pup
py, with big paws and jolly little black
eyes.
"IIerc's cayotc cXterminator, Grand
father Byers," she said, as she jumped
from the saddle, and the black horse fell
eagerly to eating the short, crisp buffalo
grass, just as though he was not stuffed
at home.
She initiated the cayotc's cry; the dog
bristlcd, his eyes shot fire. he looked in
all points of the compass, and then, with
a fierce howl, tore madly around the
house.
Through Miss Dessic's kindness I found
a ready market for my eggs and chick
ems, and for the butter learned TO make :;
and she showed me how to ''lay butter
down" for winter use.
Though she never had to work, she
knew every task in y farmers wife's en-
istencc; and perhaps it was best, for
there was young man living near her
fathers ranch, who himself owned q big
ranch, and who took tea every Sunday
afternoon with her father, and went to
church down in the village every Sunday
evening with her.
About two miles from our ranch were
three low hills, Or mounds. Behind one,
in a sort Of valley, hedgcd in by the
hills and facing the pla MS, was a well
ninety feet deep, called, regret to say,
''Bycrs's folly" Poor grandfather had
had the we'll dug. hoping to obtain
the water to irrigatc his land. lie could
not sec ahead to the time when COM
pany of capitalists would intcrsect the
region with irligating bitches. and each
mans land could be benefited by paying
a small annual water tax.
Grandfuther's money gave out before
the well was finished, and the wide, deep.
black hoe, care 'essly crossed by rotten
boards, and big pllc of earth, was all
that was left of his labor and his fortune.
Not only was his money sunk in the
hole, but also large sums borrowed from
Mr.. Little, who, knew, had forgiven it,
and five hundred dollars borrowed from
Mr.. DAVIDSON, Of D., and to this man
our ranch was mortsagcd.
Grandfather grew gloomy and sad as
spring came on. lie frightened up a
little when | showed him my account
book,-Miss Bessie showed me how to
keep it, and proved to him how much
money had made with the hens and
the butter; but he sighed q moment after.
''Ef hadn't a done that, how COM
ferable we'd "a been. You're SIGH a
smart girl, q son more'n gal, Charley.
a IN,,,,o,n,*, l,,I dunno O