The western sentinel. [volume] (Winston-Salem, N.C.) 1887-1926, 1888-02-02

| ses from former meals 1t had even
gotten into their hair and matted it
up with feathers from pillows, and ov-
er all was coat of CRIME from the
evenings heated adventure.
On the centre of the bare table was
a tray of the inevitable "pie" and near
by pan of biscuit, each as big as a
saucer A little pot of sorghum and
the dish of stewed chicken keep these
| company.
The tow-heads had not awaited an
invitation. and already their faces
| were down over plates of molasses
which the dirty hands sopped into it
industriously. That is the larger
ones were so enjoyed. The smallest
three had been left in the struggle for
existence for the plate of biscuit on
that side of the table was exhausted,
while the third grabbed piece OF bis
cult that his neighbor had for an ms
tant laid down. But before it could
reach his mouth the other had seized
his hand and begun to pummel the
robber in the face One cup of milk
was overturned on the tobIe, a plate
of molasses went to the ground, then
the bench with the half dozen biats
upset on the dogs. But the combat
ants clinched on the floor. The affair
was growing interesting, and was
beginning to hope that each would ex-
pi e in the grasp Of the other when
the old woman turned and drove
them out of doors, where they howled
and fought unmolested.
Now having opportunity we turned
our attention to the chicken. But
the memory of that unfortunate fowl
recurred to me So strongly how that
pursued it had flown in vain to me
for protection. how it Huttered in ter
ror away, indeed its death squeak
seemed yet ringing in my ears, and
there on the doorstep cur was gnaw-
and crunching Its head could not
eat it. But accepted spoonful of
sour apples and requesting cup of
milk began to break open one of the
poured OUT the milk for US, admins
tering the while to her baby ccnssla-
ton of most material sort. At length
the biscuit was open. Heavy and
yellow with soda it was and the steam
that rose from it filled the room with
peculiar odor.
There was little chance to talk with
Silas, who sitting with head down and
elbows up was oblivlous to all else
but the plate before him. So we tried
to draw the woman into conversation,
bnt she "was mighty upset" and
would not talk.
"Now, where we live" said one
presently, thinking to interest her in
cooking, 1--WE use little soda in bread,
indeed you can't taste it at all"
"'.Vaal, now, whatten the use O.
putin sody in bread eff ye aint gwine
ter taste it % was the annihilating re-
ply.
Supper finished the woman pro-
ceeded to get the little children to bed
and watching her no longer wonder
ed that she could not make a crop in
addition to her other duties. 1t was
the old story of the fox, the goose and
would be put to bed and before aDoth-
er Joined them they were fighting.
But at length all were crowded into
two beds with the CRIME and molasses
still upon their faces. Then pointing
to one of the remaining she remarked:
''Thar's yo' bed, strangers, agin youins
is ready ter turn in."
The days work ended, at length the
poor tired creature sat by the fire and
smoked her pipe-the only solace Of
her life.
Silas' head had already dropped up
on his breast and he was snoring
heavily, and when presently the wo-
man knocked the ashes from her pipe
We knew it was bed time and disrob-
ing retired to our place. Without
embarrassment she prepared herself
for bed, the pine knots fickered and
burnt out and soon sleep was upon the
household.