Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1888-12-22
AT THE STATION.


From scribnsr's Magazine.
Nothing could well be more commonplace o,
ignoble than the corner Of the world in which
Miss Oily now spent her life.
A waysids inn, near station on the railway
which runs from Salisbury, in North Carolina,
up to the great Appalachian range Of noun.
tains: two or three unpainted boxes Of houses
scattered along the track by the inn; not a tree
or blade Of grass in the ''clarin';" few gaunt
long-legged pigs and chickens grunting and
cackling in the muddy clay yards; beyond
swampy tobacco fields stretching to the en-.
circling pine woods. For Sewer Station lay on
the lowland; the mountain rose far to the west
like blue haze on the horizon. The railway
ran like q black line across the plain, and
stopped at their foot at hamlet called
Henry's; thence an occasional enterprisine
I traveller took ''the team" up the PERCEPTIONS
mountain road to Asheville, then q sleepy vii
lage unknown to tourists.
| Nothing too, could have been more COM
monplace or ignoble than Miss Oily herself;
a pudgy old woman of sixty, her shapeless
/ body covered with a scant blue homespun
| gown, with a big white apron tied about
| where the waist should have been; face
like that of an exaggerated baby, and round,
| innocent blue eyes, which, when they met
| yours, you were sure were the friendliest in
the world Miss billy always wore a coarse
white handkerchief (snowy white and freshly
ironed) pinned about her neck, and another
tied over her ears, for she had occasionally a
mysterious pain, commonly known to us as
| neuralgia, but which the Carolinian noun
taineers declare is only caused by being
| overlooked" by some one who has an evil
eye.
"They tell me it must be So" Miss Dilly
would say; but of course, my dear, it was done
| by accident. Nobody would hurt person
thataway, meanin' it. An it's mighty tarrible
| thing to have that kind of an eye! hope the
good Lord don't let any poor soul know that he
| has it,
Miss Oily had had this pain only since
she had lived in the lowland. 1t had almost
disabled her. She was born in the mountains
| up the Old Black-and she fancied if she could
| go back to them she would be cured. But her
| younger brother, James, owned the farm and
1 inn, and when their mother died. twenty years
ago, he had agreed with Preston Barr that
he should have both, rent free, if he would
give Dilly home and the yield of one field of
| tobacco yearly. James then set off to the
west to make his fortune. Letters at first
| she had heard from him.
Nobody ever heard groan from Miss billy
when the attacks of pain came on. when the
good Lord gives you a load to carry, reckon t
| arn't the clean thing to lay it on other folks
| shoulders" she would say, laughing. She shut
herself up, therefore, in her own chamber, and
would let nobody in. though everybody at the
inn. from Squire Barr himself to Sam. the
black cook, hostler and chambermaid besieged
the door.
gloom like that of funeral overhung the
whole clarin' when Miss Dilly had one Of her
spells. After the passing of the two trains q
day 1t was the one topic of interest.
I've knowed wimmin as was younger" old
Colonel Royal would say. solemnly wagging
his head and winking his bleared ewes, sbut
Aunt Oily is the jokingest and most agreeable
OF her sex in this part of Cahliny, to my
thinkin'.''
Yes" Squire Barr would answer, nodding
gravely: And how any human fend can lay
the devils look on her, passes mer'
When the attack was over she would come
down, pale and pnched about the jaws, but
smiling. kissing and shaking hands all around
as II she had come back from long journey.
The Squire invariably addressed her with
pondrOus gravity, after this fashion:
'Ef it be sc, Aunt billy. 'syou think goin' back
to yer home on tn Old Blackd give you ease,
say the wohd canht pay you rent in money,
fob I've got none. But in traffic, tobacco cohn,
an millet-itll be all sent up regular. Though
what we'd do without you all passes me!''
At which Mrs. Missouri Barr would look at
Miss billy with tears on her gaunt cheeks and
the girls would hang about her, patting her,
and the colonel would declare with an oath that
THE whole clarin' had been powerful inter-
| rupted while you all was gone.''
These were the happiest moments of Miss
| Dillys happy life. She would explain care
fully to them for the thousandth time her
feeling on the matter. 1T seems to me eff
was in the old place, facin' Old Craggy. n the
Swanannoa runnin' past the door. n could go
set by father n mother every mornin'. whar
| they're lynn among the rowan trees. I'd get
young agin n pse this torment But then
what d James think eff he'd come back hyar
| ready to cahry me to his home in Colorado or
them Turin countries? Me gone, after my
IN > =
leave you. Preston. n Mssoury, n the girls, n
Sam, n all-very hard!"
The girls always surprised Miss Oily with a
good supper ON these recOveries, and the colo
mel and Squire Preston felt it their duty to go
to bed drunken than usual, in sign of low
At other times life at Sewer station was stag
nant enough. Miss billy sewed or knit in her
own room sitting at the window where she
could see the six men of the village sitting in
row in the gallery of the inn, smoking She call
ed them her boys and when one CHANGED to have
the rheumatism or tooth-ache, or q snake-bite
clucked about him like an old hen over an all
ing chick. All the children in the hamlet were
free Of her room; there was always one at least
with her, listening to her old Bible stories
Neither they nor Miss Dilly were at all sure
how far exactly Palestine was from Carolina:
indeed, Dilly had dim conviction that the
mountains on which her Lord walked and suf-
fered and died as man were part of the noun
tains yonder, which were all the world that
she knew.
The no church near the station; there
were not even the monthly ''pra 'ars' which
keep up the religious and social life of the
mountains. Miss billy. with her Bible and her
incessant innocent talk of 1.-The good Lord"
was all the pope or preacher known to these
people. the Only messenger sent to show them
how to live or to die.
In the morning the train passed the station.
going up to Henry's in the afternoon it came
down; it halted for five or ten minutes each
time. These brief pauses were the end of life
for the population Of Sewer station; the whole
twenty-fOur hours merely led up to them.
When the train came in sight, the six men, the
women. children. pigs, and chickens
dropped the work they had in hand
and waited, breathless. 1t came up out of
the great busy world and swept down into
it again--a perpetual miracle-leaving them
in silence and solitude. Miss Oily was always
at her post by the window to see it go by. The
conductor and engineer had learned to watch
for the wondering old baby face, and often
| threw her a little package of candy or a news
paper. Her heart thumped with terror and
delight as the wonderful thing rushed past her.
II she could only ride on the cars once, only
for mile! This was the one secret ambition
Of her life.
Sometimes, but very rarely, the train was
beiated and stopped long enough for the pas
sengers to take supper. Then excitement rose
to fever height. Mrs. Barr. the girls, Preston,
even the colonel were busy in the kitchen,
cooking and scolding Sam. Miss Dilly. who
could do nothing, hurried to the par
lOr. in fresh apron and handkerchief.
It was a stuffy little room with plated rugs on