Richmond dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1884-1903, 1885-12-27
clcLYS STORY.

lars Rest, which Is the sole "ss"o''
az metropolitan importance bcienginl
"a sAs trade. forsakep, interior little wi
lsee Of Bayousille. had arrived iron
soms suli more interior depth OF tn
country and was prepared to posses
mv soul wi,h patience until such tim
a. the numbering old mail-cosch shou''
be ready 10 set out for the railway sta
ton twenty miles away.
The landlord Of the Rest, who ha'
been engaged In the triple occupation o
chewiac tobacco, whiting pint
single. and cooling his heels on tn
broken bslastradc Of the front porch
got down from his lazy perch and him
self ushcred the way into the parlor
Asve crossed the black entry, he said
in a whisper: "There's queer
character in there. She come from out
the swamp and says she's going dowr
TO Orleans. / can't &c, nothing out o.
her except that she wants to get shet o.
the hull country" With this he open
ed the door and ushered me into the
waiting-room.
The parlor was q clean, wholesome
apartment. The wide-plsnked floor
had been freshly rubbed with powdered
red brick, the gritty particles OF which
crunched uncomfortably under foot'
The fireplace was piled with pine logs
and the room smelled sweet as newly
,.no.a tur,ep,;ne-orchsrd. The win
dows, rafting in the wind, were cur
tain,css, except for the frostbitten
Madeira vines clinging to network OF
cords across the outer sashes.
The outlook was off straight into the
forest. where the pines grew so thick
that they almost seemed to be gray,
wooden curtain hung down from the
luminous skies.
At one of these windows, bolt up
right. on q splint-bottomed chair. sat
Young woman. Her coarse garb and
certain intangible environment OF man.
ner. denoted the backwoods woman.
Her face was turned forestward, and
deep, set. interpretive gloom orooded
In Der sombre eyes.
She was tall and fall Of figure, the
last q trait Of physical comliness not
common 10 the women of her locality.
Her face was noble one--large, firm,
full-featured. intelligent, with wide
gray eyes. black, straight eyebrows, and
a powdery busting Of brown freckles
on the bridge Of her nose and under her
eyes. Her chin was full and almost
square. A lot Of rumpled brown hair,
growing with plenty Of curly tendrils
ike a vine. was gathered in knot at
the back of her head. She wore a plain
blue cottonade gown, gathered at the
waist on q broad band, and in place of
a collar a blue bandanna handkerchief
was tied at her throat. From out its
loose dropping folds her throat, almost
too full, rose like short column OF
brown marble. The girl had a matron-
ly look about her, that indescribable
look that made one guess it was not
long since her large arms had Graded
young one Of her own. A Shaker bon
net lay on the floor at her feet, and
band Of black crepe was pinned
on her breast.
This was Cic'ly-Cic'ly, whose home
was twenty miles inward on the banks
Of Black-Snake Bayou, who had never
before in her life been to Bayouville,
" no had never seen stage-coach nor
heard the boot Of locomotive, and
who did not know that the wien, de-
rreui,, one-pedalled, and entirely-ante-
piano in the corner was piano,
but who. when the supreme tragedy
Of her life had faced and vanquished
her, had risen from her battlefield and
He'd. to lose herself forever in that I'M
somewhere that lay be.
yond the bewildering methods Of Bayou
vile.
Cic'ly sat motionless by the window.
and took no heed Of the oSc ipant OF the
room. Once she raised large brown
hand and drew it across her face, as if
bidding thought be still. She looked
being for whom all the emotions Of life,
like broken clock, had closed forever.
That Of her which must 60 on living
was just insensate clay. Her heart was
somewhere dead. Despite her fine face,
her statuesque throat, she looked the
essence Of commonplace forlornity, and
when she spoke her voice was sud-
den, sullen, nasal monotone. Yes"
said she once, in answer to question,
+" / hev been a settin' here aud settin'
here till I've most tuckin root, but /
Ieckin to git shet Of this place some
time or ruther.'
1t was not easy to imagine that this
hopeless woman, in the coarse country
garb, had touched the highest limits Of
10y and woe. and that now in getting
!" shet " Of this strange bit Of town,
she was turning from the ashes of de-
serted hearth to seek sanctuary and
ASYLUM in the world. This is the story
Of Cic'ly's life:
Twenty miles back Of the village Of
Bayouyille Black-Snake bayou winds
sluggishly in and out through a peren-
NAL wilderness that is only occasionally
chcckered by few fields Of feeble cot
ton. The soil over all this country.
where there is not too much water to
admit Of soil, is but thin, miry layer
Of yellow clay that resists the advances
Of emigrant agriculturists with a hos
tility no less potent than that exhibited
by the few sallow-faced individuals who
are indigenous to it.
1t is probable that the highly credit
able census returns have been mere
friendly guesswork on the part Of some
rural statistician, who, stumbling blind
on the sagscious idea Of always putting
the best foot foremost, favored the
county by . complement Of population
utterly incompatible with the dense
pine groves. the stretches Of black
swamp, the semi-occasional cotton
patches, and demi-semi-occasionsl log
cabins set here and there in small clear
iDgs.
In at Bsyouville, whose few resi-
dents, congregated by social instinct
rather than municipal authority within
certain prescribed limits, fondly i'm
agine themselves possessed of a dis
tinctly citifed air, imposed by an an
eular pantheistical meeting house, tn
post-office, grocery-store, and saddler'
.hoo al in ma and the before mi