The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1888-06-20
A WILD RIDE.
BY SMITH H. BROWNE.


made counterpart.
Comm, pap, comin'!' answered the
girl; and hurrying along the sanded
4oor, she bent over the sick man,
''chirked" up the pillows, and smoothed
his long gray hair.
"'Pears like I'm powerful weak
ieelin'."
eyes, pap, Yer don't eat nothin', /"
sighed the girl; eff yer could only
think of somethiu' yer wanted"
'I've a hankerin' arter pone-bread
baked outen Cove meal. This yer
mounting corn amt no count, no how. !"
"fas, pap"
s'Them Hawkcnses hain't paid me fer
fhe tan-bark Iskinned last spring, con-
tinued the old man. "They mought
pay ye, Sairy; leastwise Bud mought." I"
"las," and her face Redeemed like the
buds of the mountain maple. ''He'd a
paid hit long go if that air clay-bank
hadn't caved in" 80, 3.
"Cant yer 60 this arternoons He
nought pay hit, an then ye could get a
turn at the mill"
"Why, hit amt long till candle-lig ht!
the suns more'n two hours past the noon
crack" and she opened the south door
and pointed to the noon-mark on the
aoor already deep in shadows.
''Ye aint afeared, be We, Sairy2"
"No; but hits more'n seven miles
round by Deer Head Cove, and the trail
Is mighty scatterin' now, with the leaves
s-blowin' every which way. I can't 60
this evenin', pap"
"My hearts sot ont, Sairy, an yer
the only one to do for the old man now.
Jest tuck in the kivers, an then be as
Peart as ye can bout goin'." ..,.
She fastened through the entry to the
eookroom, aud sank wearily into a
straight-backed, splint-bottomed chair.
Before her yawned an open -mouthed
stick chimney. The fire was nearly out,
and the half burned logs had fallen on
the hearth. Mechanically she put the
chunks together, and brushed the un-
even hearth with sage-broom; and then
began combing her long, wavy hair.
Overhead hung rows of sausages,
dressed in their corn-hu.k gowns; and
looped over these were strings of dried
spples and pumpkin. On the left was a
doorless cupboard, in which cleaned
some blue-aowered dishes ranged in mill
tary rows.
On the right stood loom, at which a
woman sat busily throwing the shuttle,
her head and face hidden by an indigo
eolored sun-bonnet. With every click
Of the shuttle came puff of tobacco
smoke, and the weaver's form kept time
with the sley as she battened up the
web.
t'Mother!" .-.
The sun-bonnet turned and showed a
face wrinkled and tired, but lighted by
b pair of kindly gray eyes. "Wall" she
answered, at the same time removing
the pipe from her mouth and putting out
cloud of smoke.
'tPap wants me to 60 to Deer Head
Cove and get grist O. Coye meal"
At this Mrs. Martin rose, pushed back
The weaver's bench, and sat down facing
her daughter.
g, ''sairy," she said, decidedly, s'we
can't Ak them Grays any favors; they
kaint the favorin' kind. Thar's nary
cent in the house, aud thar's no eggs
aceptin' three doing, and yell have to
change them fer coffee at the store"
tsl'm goiu' ter try ter git that money
Ne Haw, w,kenses have been OWN of US
Ter tan-bark ever since last spring."
said the girl, emphasizing every word
With jerk of her glossy braid. =
''Taint no use; ,Lige Hawkens is
mighty. onary since he's taken to peach.
brandy. Time was he 'peared mighty
friendly, an was a-speculatin' bout you
an Bud. Howsomever, that air clay
bank kind er turned his head, an made
him feel mighty bigity."
During this conversation Sara had
changed her dress, and was now tying
her bonnet, while her mother packed
the eggs in poke with salt.
,"Good-by mother; shall bring ye q
calico gownd or some store-thread outen
the Hawkenses' money!" Then, laugh
ing, she turned and walked down the
path to the bars.
Scope! Cope! Cope Nan !" she called,
m persuasive voice, at the same time
drumming ON the top rail. A whinny
answered from the wood-lot, and soon a
spirited sorrel colt came running up
with arched neck and distended nostrils.
She put forth her hand and coaxingly
stroked the long, glossy face. Then,
grssping the fore lock, she led the colt
to the stable, out of which both re ap-
peared, the animal saddled and bridled,
the girl holding up long cotton riding
skirt.
She nimbly climbed the horse-block,
and after carefully ad iusting the poke of
eggs, started down the rid dge, and soon
disappeared in the brown, leafess for
rSts.
Mrs. Martin stood in the doorway,
shading her eyes from the western light,
long after her daughter was lost to view,
gazing wistfully at the blue, shadowy
rim of the distant Cumberland Mount
aims. Somewhere in their purple depths
her oldest boy was clearing up farm,
and even now, while one hand shaded
her eyes, the other was in her pocket
grasping letter from him, bra gging,
manly epistle as full Of good cheer as it
was of bad spelling. With a sigh she
left the door and went back to her
weaving.
The sun was hanging like bra en-
h on the leaden vault of the sky, its
rim hidden by the mountains
Srest and fringed by the tai,
when Sara Martin drew rein
Awkens's door-yard. Half
>ran out to meet her, fol-
2 young man dressed