The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1885-01-08
GRANDMOTHER'S STORY.
How She Made a Hiding-Place of
a Brass Kettle.

1t was stormy day, and the children
were popping corn over the glowing
Goals in the CRATE.
Grandma sat with her knitting work
near the fire, and the kitten was chasing
great white fluffy kernel around the
room with her frisky paws.
''When | was little girl and lived at
the West, said grandma, ''my broth
ers and | used to pop corn in the
ashes.n
..How could you do thatP'' said Tom.
81 shouldn't think it would have
popped at ALL
30, we didn't use coal ashes, but
scraped clear place in front of the
great wood fire, put the corn down in
little heaps, and then covered each heap
carefully with hot ashes, placing live
coal or so on the top, and in little
while they would come popping out all
over the floor.n
"What fun!" said Meg. .T wish we
had fireplace and wood fire.
Grandma, " said Bess, who had been
reading frontier stories, and was more
Interested in Indians than popping corn
at present, having become somewhat
tired of the occupation, .'did you ever
see any Indians in those days?n
81 saw one, and he frightened nae
nearly out of my senses.
80, do tell us about it!'' cried all the
children in the same breath. s'The
corn ie a II ,1o,,,ad ,,e,x, o,,I - ill l.. -
nice to hear story while we are eating
it."
s'Wait till count the stitches on my
needle, and then, if you viii promise
not TO ask me to tell it over again for a
month at least, / will tell you the
story"
They promised, and seating them
selves in a row, each with dish of corn
IN his or her lap, waited impatiently for
the stitches to be counted.
.When our family moved to the
West" began grandma, II was only
eight years old. 1t was a pretty, but
lonely spot where our little log house
was built, in a clearing not far from the
edge of the prairie. If you went far
enough into the woods or across the
prairie, you could hear the wolves howl
ct night.
"Ihere were no roads for great dis
tance, only a path or trail, as they called
1t, and our nearest neighbor lived nearly
mile away.
WI hen we first went there, we had a
great dread of Indians-or at least
mother and we children had, though
.atller used to laugh at US, saying that
shere We're no hostile Indians in the
Sion, and the remnant of a copper
o1t9i';. n,otsu uioe' which still fingered on the
rnn a,sa,t's tha OF The State, would have to
n,aa .ne gauntlet OF ldon't know how
many blockades to get at ds.
e.. nat 10 was only a very few years be-
..;.3. oie that 1hey were scalping and com
ilelhS al sorts of depredations within
I.i' = in'ie OF TWO OF the spot where we were
s' ana my mother was continually
oh the lookout for them, though she was
serg careful not to say ANYTHING to
ulghten us children.
AS Tor me, | was a neryous. del;cata
1lilio' ana there was not a day during
ehe iifst SIX months of our life in thiS
ne" country that didn't imagine that
'm one. Il a tuft of leaves stirred
uue IN the still twilight, l was sure that
Iva, + was .he feather in an Indians cap. If
neard the cattle tramping about in the
lpuuerprash, / was sure that a whole
nolue OF indians were coming to ran
~ ss'eA the house. If | looked out into
'he moonlight, every shadow took the
grim shape of a chief, tomahawk and
sa al, II | peered up the wide chimney TO
see see ehe sparks from the fire fly up to
tn;5a5 sa'g stars on winters night, never
taasa .aS 70 encounter twinkling, sly and
Nsfloie eyes gazing down into mine.'
t''a Youl tralyG" inquired little Joe,