The Colfax chronicle. [volume] (Colfax, Grant Parish, La.) 1877-1981, 1885-05-02

"Well, as / said before, I've nOthln' ag1n
cats But don't understand any human
bein' with. an immortal soul a-settin' SO
much by one"
81 can't hear what you say" Ann could
usually hear Mrs. Stones high voice with
| out difficulty, but to day she seemed deafer.
81 don't understand any human bein'
with an immortal soul a-settin' so much by
q cat"
"You've got folks, Mis- Stone"
81 know hev; but folks is trials some.
times. Not that my children are, though.
I've got good deal to be thankful for, I'll
| own, in that way. But, Ann Millet, didn't
think you was one to sink down so under
Ilny trial. thought the Lord would be
comfort to you"
81 know all that, Mis- Stone. But when
it comes to it Pm here, an amt thar; an
I've got hands, an want somethin' kin
touch" Then the poor soul broke down,
and sobbed out loud, like baby: II amt
women their homes an their folks. l
thought-p'haps-I could git along better
| without 'em than-some; an the Lord
knowed it, an SEEM thar want enough
to go round, He gave 'em to them that
needed 'em most. l 'ain't-never-felt-as
| eff I'd orter complain. But-thar-was-
cats-enough. l might "a hed-that-
much"
"You kin git another cat, Ann. Mis-
Maxwell's got some real smart kittens, an
/ know she wants to get rid of 'em."
81 don't cant any of Mis- Maxwell's kit
"P'haps yourn will come back. Now
| don't take on So"
"What."
"P'haps yourn will come back"
"No he won't. I'll never see him agin.
| I've felt Jest that way about it from the
first. Somebody's stole him, or he's been
p'isoned an crawled away an died, or he's
been shot fur his fur. l heerd thar was
bow over the river maxim a cat-skin kerr
ridge blanket, an l went over thar an
asked him, an he said he hadn't never shot
a cat like Willy. But don't know. Boys
amt brought up any too strict. hope he
spoke the truth"
"Hark! I declar' thought heard a
cat new somewhat! But ! guess didn't.
| don't hear it now. Well, Pm sorry,
Ann. s'pose I've got to GO; thar's din
ner to git, am the baby's consider'bl fretty
to-day. Why, Ann Millet. whar's your
squashes?"..
"Where are your squashes?"
81 throwed 'em away out in the field.
Willy can't hev none of 'em now, an ]
don't keer about 'em myself"
Mrs. Stone looked at her in horror. When
she got home she told her daughter that
Ann Millet was in dreadful state of mind,
and she thought the minister ought to see
her. She believed she should tell him il
she was not out to meeting that night.
She was not. This touch of grief had
goaded that meek, reverential nature into
fierceness. The childish earnestness which
she had had in religion she had now in the
other direction. Ann Millet, in spite Of all
excuses that could be made for her. was
for the time a wicked, rebellious old wo-
man. And she was as truly so as il this
petty occasion for it had been q graver one
in other peoples estimation.
<xxt Aox orr,it, tSfav nA m aI
stimulated by Mrs. Stones report. He did
not find her so outspoken; her awe of him
restrained her. Still, this phase of her
character was a revelation to him. He
told his wife, when he returned home, that
he never should have known it was Ann
Millet.
In the course of the call rap came at
the kitchen door. Ann rose and answered
it, hopping nervously across the floor. She
returned to the minister with more distress
in her face than ever.
"Nothin' but little gal with a Malty
cat" said she. "The children hev got wind
of my losin' Willy, an they mean it all
right, but it seems as eff should fly! They
keep comm an bringin' cats. They'll find
a cat that they think mebbe is Willy, an so
they bring him to show me. They've
brought Malty an white cats, am cats all
black, an thar want one of 'em looked any
like Willy. Then they've brought kittens
that they knowed Want Willy, but they
thought mebbe I'D like 'em instead of him.
They mean all right, know; they're real
ender-hearted; but it most kills me.
Why, they brought me two little kittens
that hadn't got their eyes open, jest before
you come. They was striped an white, an
they said they thought they'd grow up to
look like Willy. They were the Hooper
children, an they knowed him."
1t would have been ludicrous if the poor
old woman's distress had not been so gen.
uine. However, Mr.. Beal, the minister,
was not a man to see the ridiculous side;
he could simply be puzzled, and that he
was.
1t was a case entirely outside his expert
ence, and he did not know how to deal with
it. He wondered anxiously what he had
best say to her. Finally he went away
without saying much of anything, he was
so afraid that what he said might be out of
proportion to the demands of the case. 1t
seemed to him bordering on sacrilege to
treat this trouble of Ann Millet's like u
genuine affection, though, on the other
hand, that treatment was what her state of
mind seemed to require.
Going out the door, he stopped and
listened q minute; he thought he heard a
cat NEW. Then he concluded he was mis-
taken, and went on. He watched eagerly
for Ann the next meeting night, but she
did not come. 1t is doubtful whether or
uO SUE ever Woulu udNc uOuc 81 IL BUG udu
not found the cat. She had a nature which
could rally an enormous amount of strength
for persistency.
But the day after the meeting she had
occasion to go down cellar for something.
The cellar stairs led up to the front part of
the house; indeed, the cellar was under
that part only. Ann went through her
chilly sitting-room-she never used it ex
cept in summer-and opened the cellar
door, which was in the front entry. There
was a quick rush from the gloom below,
and Willy flew up the cellar stairs.
"Lor' sakes!" said Ann, with a white,
shocked face. "He has been down thar all
the while. Now remember. He followed
me when 1 came through here to git my
cloak that meetin' night, an he wanted to
go down cellar, IAN 1 let him. thought he
wanted to hunt Lor' sakesw
She went back into the kitchen, her
knees trembling. The cat followed, brush
ing against her and purring. She poured
out q saucer of milk, and watched him
buu0rilv Ia v,uinp Ha did NOT lool ~ no