The Arkansaw traveler., 1888-01-21
Written for The ArkdnsdW TrdUeter. Aunt BlalCle'S Buckeyes.
BY EFFIE NJ. HUDDLESToN.

Some of my friends belong to that interesting society "The Shut lns." but I, myself am an active member ot another society called the "Get Outs" Not long since received an invita- tion to attend one of this clubs inter- esting convocations,-not on creamy cardboard in script or old English, but plainly printed upon the face of the scented wood, where the gum and grape leaves like great green hands beckoned me, where the golden throated thrushes called appealingly, and the tan-gloved fingers of the cat kined twigs waved welcome.
 For companion I seized little lass of five, one of Raphael's cherubs An carnate, whom found digging in the sand, her face all wet with perspira- ton, sweet as dewy pansy. Hand in hand we hurried along the path way paved with pine, brushing the hem of natures rustling robes, while the impressions made upon us were as different as those made upon wood and wax. The common violets which 1 carelessly trod upon, were "blue u SO DC tSh- derly stepped over; the quails, march ing like sentinels through the wheat fields, she gravely informed me cried "All right, all right; ;" she tried to catch the bright butterflies, opening and folding on every flower, calling them "gold pocket -books.'
 The Towering flame of the buckeye, which crimsoned the woods along a little stream where we wandered, re- called pleasant pastime of childhood -that of stringing the rcd corrollas of the buckeye, which we called "bugle beads" Soon we found pleasant place, and seating ourselves under the bushes commenced string ing the flowers into long crimson chains
 Near by was little cabin from which we could see the white smoke curling up in cirrus clouds and could hear a monotonous voice singing like a complaining spirit. This was where an old black woman lived who did washing and ironing for the. village folks. Sometimes through the bushes we could see her as she moved about her work, while the voice kept sing ing in that complaining, yet inclined to- be- resigned tone:
 "Dere is brighter Ian kno'
 Beyon' de sunsets greedy oh greedy oh" After a while the singing ceased, and Aunt Blanche, as she was called, came out to pull bark from the rough rail fence. Thrusting her head, turbaned like Turks under the limbs of a scrawny black jack, she spied us among the buckeyes.
 "La, honeys, doan pull too many yo' Aunt Blanchey's buckeyes. Dey ain't a-goin' to be none too many dis yere, no how," said she holding out her fat arms to the child who was a great ia vorite with her, and who had run to her at the sound of her voice.
 Soon we were inside the little in- closure, where, under the shade of the trees Aunt Blanche had her snow- white clothes spread out ironing. The yard was hard and smooth, and had been swept clean of every pebble and grain of sand. Over the doorway aud roof a full-leaved and towering Ar kausaw Traveller vine clambered in al- most visible growth, its tiny trumpets crimsoning the ground around us. A fireplace had been built at the back of the chimney on the outside where the irons were kept hissing hot. Aunt Blanche informed us, as she smoothed out the crinkled clothes that she was making ready to attend "fun'al," and that it would be grand occasion, as one of the "pillows O de church" had died. At table near by tall yellow girl assisted in the ironing. "Close Communion" as she had been christened, called Clo' for short, had an expression as sour as sumac, on her face, and looked to be continually gloating over some misfortune. How ever ridiculous her name may appear, it possessed the good quality of fit- ness. She seldom raised her eyes or spoke.
 Upon a shelf over the fireplace were long rows of brown buckeyes which, with their weak, lidless eyes, seemed staring in every direction.
 sHoney, Pse gwine to show you some O yo' Aunt Blanchey's buck eyes she been a-sabin' am a. keepin' till de next uns grows,r said the old auntie, placing her cold iron to the