The Austin weekly statesman. (Austin, Tex.) 1883-1898, 1888-11-08
ABRAMS SCHOOL MA'AM.
A ROMANCE FROM THE REAL LIFE
OF THE WESTERN PRAlRlES.
1t Deals, as Most Good Romances Do, with
the Love of Good Young Man and His
Sweetheart and Has Dramatic Passage
or Two.
Special Correspondence.l


GARNET, Kan, Oct 23.-There is much
unwritten romance in all this borderland
How could it be otherwise when the great
waves of emigration continually cast upon
US fragments of families, men of broken for
tunes and ladies of refinement suddenly re-
| duced to poverty; and when friends and even
| lovers long separated are suddenly reunited
| by the merest accidentl Out of many such
cases | select one that is told around the
cheerful hearth of thousand prairie homes.
Left an orphan, almost without friends,
and nearly pennileSs, but with liberal edu-
| cation, little Ivy Allen had struggled bravely
! with her strength of 10 years against the
| great world. Twas but a losing fight, and
soon she was weary and disheartened with
the struggle. She was almost without friends,
| have said; almost, but not quite. Harry
Herman, a young civil engineer, who had
great hopes for the future, but who, at the
time when we first meet him, was receiving
little but the hard knocks, was Ivy's dear
| friend and half declared lover. Soon he left
for the west, where the building of new and
great railroad offered him chance to rise in
his profession. And Ivy was to wait for his
return, when he would come back with
money amply sufficient for both, he said.
And then, he added, he would have some
thing to whisper in her ear that now poverty
forbade the telling. Ivy blushed and guessed
his meaning Alright, and he, seeing that she
| understood, turned away with his brave heart
full of the bright thoughts of the future. Her
little store Of money melted away, and the
specter Of want seemed not far away. Then
she turned toward the west
And this was the first day in her career as
instructor and director of the shooting pro-
pensities of the ideas possessed by the young
people Of "Sugar Holler," and, as she tapped
the little bell and glanced into the expectant
faces, her heart almost recoiled from the task
that lay before her.
A boy, whose yellow, broad brimmed
stop" hat covered a mass of light, almost
white, hair, and shaded a queerly puckered
face, paused on the threshold.
"Howdyl" he said with a queer ducking
of his white head, as Ivy turned toward him.
Several more figures appeared behind him.
Come imp Ivy said pleasantly, and he of
the puckered face and white head entered
gravely, and, with stare around the room,
seated himself on a bench directly in front
of the teacher He made no motion to re-
move his hat Slowly and solemnly five other
close as possible to the first conner. They all
bore enough resemblance to the first one and
to each other to proclaim the fact that they
were brothers. Each said "Howdym and
bowed very gravely at the door and seated
himself, with his hat still in position ON his
head. Ivy looked at the little row of lads,
running in size, by half head degrees, from
a 4-year-older to boy of II sitting be-
fore her as solemn as crows on limb, and
felt as if about to burst into peal of laugh
ter at the oddly of their appearance.
"What is your namer asked Ivy of the
oldest.
"Abe'm," answered the boy, not in the
least abashed by the half amused glance of
the pretty teacher.
"Abe whatp
"Abe-Brum.n
ooh! see; Abraham Brum.
"Naw," said the boy, with half snort Of
contempt at the teachers glaring stupidity.
Not Abraham Brum, but Abrum Hyson,
called Abe by them as don't put ON no frills
ter their talk"
ooh, excuse me; see-Abram Hyson."
oval, reckon I'll skuse ye Don't see how
l kin git out of hit" answered Abe, with
forgiving nod of his head, and the other
white haired lads nodded their heads as if
they didn't see how he could get out of it,
either.
Abe could or would do little but draw rude
pictures on his three cornered fragment,
called by courtesy slate. These, upon ex-
animation, proved to be always intended as
representations of engines, or something
connected with those machines. Abe had
been "to town" on a few remote occasions
and had fingered lovingly about the round
house and among the engines till his father
had been compelled to almost drag him away
bodily. 1t was Abe's all absorbing oesire to
become an engineer
One Saturday he tramped away down on
Onion creek, where the new railroad was go
ing to cross, and scraped an acquaintance
with Harry Herman, the young chief Of the
corps of surveyors, who were locating the big
bridge that would span the creek. Harry,
in a spare half hour, told the lad something
about engines and engine drivers, and by so
doing won the boys firm friendship After
the first few his letters eastward had mis-
carried, or, in the hurry of changing base,
he had often failed to write at all, and Ivy
soon lost track of him, and, of course, was
unable to inform him of her departure for
the 'rowdy west" She knew he was in the
west somewhere, while he did not even sus-
pect as much in her case.
Abe was the possessor of a long, sharp
pointed dirk knife, that he had traded for, at
some remote time, and whitfield sundry trap
sticks, fish hobs and kindred objects dear to
boyish hearts, and hacked the school desks
when Ivy's back was turned. This weapon
he could throw, plainsman fashion, for
several yards, almost as unerringly as an ex-
pert could fire pistol ball. An Indian, Of
unique outlines, had been chalked on the out
side of the building by the artist of the
school, and Abe would often stick the knife
point in the place where the warriors heart