Savannah morning news. [volume] (Savannah) 1868-1887, 1886-09-25

Dave Williams had never heard OF the
Rev. Bascome Bond. If he had known
that at White Bone church, which was
within a stones throw of White Bone
school house, the Rev. Bascombe Bond, a
Young but powerful" Methodist
preacher, was conducting revival meet
ing, he would have kept John at
home. While 1t was true that his neigh
bors said Dave Williams believed ''W hat
ever is to be will be, whether 1t do or
not" he believed the saying by trying,
sometimes, 10 prevent certain ills. He
had tried prevention when he moved into
the wilderness. Had he been warned he
would have tried it again when John
asked permission to attend the summer
sessions of the public school. But, fore
ordained or not, the school was not In
session the day John appeared at the
school house door, ready to begin his
studies. The students were all in the
church, listening to the fervid eloquence
of Rev. Bascombe Bond. John followed
them. What he heard upset all the re-
ligious teachings of his father, and
emancipated him from the bondage of
traditions. He returned to his home in
the afternoon literally "new man."
That night Dave Williams asked John
what he thought of the school.
~ can't tell" john" replied, "school
was out to-day"
"OutY
ayes, sir; there was a meeting at the
church."
"What sort o. meetin'"
"Preaching."
s'Who was the preacherW
''Rev. Bascombe Bond"
81 never heard o. him. Does he live
hereaboutsr' ~4,,t.s ,f5at,t
''No, sir; he's helping the circuit rider
I'm nrofrQntad -
Dave Williams looked at John mo-
meDt In amazed silence.
SIS this-thfs Bond Meth dis'?'
eyes, SIR"
Another moment of silence followed.
John could see that his father was striv-
ing to repress his anger, but the new life
to which be had suddenly awakened made
him strong to bear with equanimity
whatever his father should say. When
Dave Williams had succeeded In CONTROL.
ing his anger. he said; with emphasis not
to be misunderstood:
"Yo' don't 20 ter school no mo-"
Then they separated, the father still
struggling with his anger and the son In
sorrow.
At the dinner hour, next day, John was
not at home. His mother and sisters re-
marked his absence, but his father said
! nothing. After awhile, no left the table
and went away among the pines. He
did not hear the melancholy swish and
sough of their long leaves. He was toe
full of angry establishment to be touched
by the soothing influence Of the solemn
sound. He said to himself, over and
over:
Johns got will; he couldn't be my
son 'thouJ havin' will; but my Willis
right am his Willis wrong"
Suddenly he turned toward the road
leading from White Bone. He waited al
its edge until the sun went down in the
west. A little later John, who was re-
turning from White Bone, was startled
by his fathers stepping into the road and
saying:
'Whar yo' be'nY
Recovering himself, John replied:
''To White Bone"
"Did yo' hear that Bond ag'in~
"Yes, SIR"
''Then," exclaimed Dave Williams,
his face distorted with rage, "yo' lied ter
me yO' lied ter meP'
81 did notl" replied John, his new
found faith barely preventing him from
using harsher words.
Didn't tell yo' not ter go ter White
Bone no more?"
''No, sir; you told me not to 60 to school
any more"
"But yo' knowed what meant, an, yo'
can't sneak out o. yo' lieP'
John refused to reply, and walked to-
ward the house slowly followed by his
father.
Father and son saw each other no more
that night. Each was afraid to trust him.
self with the other.
Dave Williams could not rid himself OF
his anger. Indeed, he did not try. Like
all bigots, religious or otherwise, his in
tolerance led him, when opposed, to some
form of violence. He loved his son, but ne
worshiped his religion. To him 1t was
the embodiment of God. What he re-
garded as his sons apOstasy caused him,
for the time, TO nate him.
The two met upon the steps, next
morning, as John was leaving the house.
"Whar yo' gwine ?" asked the father.
"To White Bone" replied the son.
'To hear that Bond ag'inw
'Yes, SIR"
"Is yo' min made up"
sit is, but oh, my father"
"Ef yo' go," exclaimed the father, ''yo'
ain't my son, am hope the Lord II strike
yo' dead fore ever set eyes on vo' ag'inp'
1t was thus that they separated, for
John walked out into the road without re-
plying.
At nightfall, seated upon his white
mule, Tom Larribee bore sad news To
Dave Williams house In the wilderness
"Yo' sons Dead" he bluntly told the
father; "throwed out o. a wagon ridin'
from meetin' at White Bone. Doc
Matherson said be busted his skull"
Dave Williams uttered but a single
word:
"Dead?"
II seed him myself" Tom replied.
'sThey's bringin' him here, now"
In the asylum at Milledgeville there is
a man who spends all his waking hours
repeating:
'John's got Will; he couldn't be my
son 'thOut havIn' will; but my Willis
right am his Willis wrong"