The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1888-08-06

about the building of the little white par
sonage at the bend of the road leading past
the school house and the church. He knew
Ezra Days place when the house stood back
of the old cherry tree, and the blacksmith
shop occupied the present site of the house.
Frank was bachelor, and loved Liza Day,
the blacksmith's daughter. His pastime
was to walk in the dusty road to and from
''meetin' at the church" with Eliza, who
sang the loudest of all in the choir, ana
court her by reiterating a story of her obi
cations to him. Was not he the man who
one cold night in January, 1860, went for old
Doc Neesbit to attend her birtha There never
had been colder January than that of 1860,
and Frank allowed that the coolest night
was the one on which Eliza came to
bless her fathers home and clean the clink-
ers from his forge.
| The features of Franks career were the
persistency with which he chung to Vert
land, his invention of SPAWN cure, his
fund of traditions and prophecies, and his
ninety days service in the war. When
Frank came home from the army he had a
blue overcoat with a square-cut cape, which
might be used as hood, and a camp dis
ability. The coat and the affliction were
Franks inseparable companions. They ex-
hausted his vitality so that he could do
nothing more ardqous than carve his name
on dry goods boxes at Uncle Harry Cald-
wells grocery, put up his SPAWN cure, and
make predictions of the great prosperity
which awaited Vertland. He used to sit on
the grocery boxes with his elbows on his
knees, his chin in his hands, and listless
expression ON his face. He stopped so much
that the functions of his body were inter
rupted and its members became distorted.
His back, having been relieved by his hands
of the duty OF holding up his head, en-
gagged its energies at second growth, max
ing a large round hump between his should
ers.
Day in and day out Frank tarried at the
store to talk about his ''linnyment, in which
was some snake root fer limberin' up the
muscles, some burdock to make 'em grow,
and some white oak bark to give em
strength to make predictions that the
time would come when 'all these here
patches of dogfennel" would retire before
the home of the mechanic
Pap was water witch in Maryland be-
fore he KUN here" Frank would say. HE
learnt the bizness from the best man ut
ever told people where to dig well to find
water. Pap knew jist how a water fork
orter twist Ill a .witch's hands, an he never
failed till he kun here. But here there was
somethin' the matter with the forks. Pap
allus said as how they was sometbin' besides
water under the ground here, an Pap never
led
Franks home was a neat sawed-log house,
built flush against the highway half way
betwixt the railroad crossing and the black
smith shop of his friend, Ezra Day. There
we're three apple trees in the south side Of
Franks yard, and in the shade of the house
on the north, where hoeing was long in the
shadow, was a small garden spot, whose
picket fence was scrupulously whitewashed,
with everything else on the diggings, by
old Aunt Susan, Franks spinster sister.
The village boys always began to go bare
foot one month after Aunt Susan began
withdrawing, and they began patroniziug
the old swimming hole, below Mrs
Leaver's cslamus patch aud milk house,
six weeks later. Aunt Susan's pre-
dictions of the arrival of spring never
failed.
Franks only curse of labor was to burn
the caterpillars out of the apple trees. To do
it he tied wad of loose paper on a long
pole and then ignited the torch.
Two years ago natural gas was found here.
Standard oil pipe lines have plowed up
Franks little garden. Escape pipes align
the highways, and at night throw out huge
bazes, into which myriads of insects dash
I and are destroyed. Among these bugs are
those which sowed the seeds of curses in
Franks apnle trees. There are no caterpil-
| lars now The boughs of the trees are robust
in their verdure, and have to b. propped up
because their burden of fruit is 50 great.
How smooth and hearty are the apples,
which for years had been knotty from
| stingsl How proud of their new condition
are the farmers The fennel patches are
disappearing. Factories are going up, and
J money is plenty. Gorgeous family car
riages hitch at the old church rack where
the farm wagons used to stand. Franks
prediction has been realized. His curse is
gone. But the change was so slow in being
worked that many of the young men went
away into the far west. Those who re-
manned here are prosperous. They will take
care of Franks grave.