The Monitor. [volume] (Woodstown, N.J.) 1884-1892, 1889-07-19
A TAR HEEE
"a Pathetic sketch of SORROW and Ar
n~ieff0n.

four mules hitehed to the fence. Itlooked
as if the family might be in trouble, and ]
was passing on, when Morgan himselfc came
out and stopped me and said:
81 couldn't let you 60 by nohow. Deed,
but I'm glad you've come"
lyon seem to be in trouble"
and that's one reason why you must
stop. My Poll is dead. She was bit by a
RATHER early this morning on yam hill.
Come in and ehirk the ole woman a Bit"
1t was a specimen mountain cabin, and
they were specimen mountaineers. The
mother sat rocking, with an apron cover
ing her whole head, and a boy of ten sat in
a corner wiping his eyes and nose with inn
partiality on the family towel. Such of
the n%eighbors as had come in were awed
to silence by the presence of the corpse on
the bed. Poll was a girl of IS, poor and
serawny, and her face having that pinched
look which the face Of every mountain fe-
male bears as something natural to it. It
appeared to be a great relief to all to haye a
stranger arrive, and after a few minutes
Mrs. Morgan uncovered her head and ex-
planned.
''The Lord jist brung it about hisself.
lie said to Poll: Yon go up yam hill and
git some sassafrax root for coffee and she
went. Then lie said to the snake. When
| Poll Gums you bite her in the calf of the
left leg and he bit her. 1t was the Lord
and nobody else"
Eyes, that's so. Jenny" said the hus-
band.
.I'm sartin it's So" chorused all the
Others, while the boy added:
t'Yes, but what did the Lord want to
hev Poll bit fur9 Was he'nn down on
she'un2s
Cause he'un wanted Poll to be an
angel, and she couldn't be an angel till
she was done gone dead answered the
mother.
"That's just it, sighed the father.
sit is hard for you to lose her, but she is
better off, l said, to break the long silence
that followed.
sReckon she ar replied the mother.
"Poll was a good gal, an she'd hev bin
mar'd this fall and the fellar she was to
hev mar'd has got Z mewl an three hogs
an a gun, but the Lord knows best. When
He wants anybody for an angel they has
got to go somehow. Stranger, do You
know about heavenf"
..Ihave read about it,"
"Do they hev rich dads and good Twin
up thar92n
'fThe best, Mrs. Morgan"
'Tm glad ont. Poll never had nothin
bettern cheap calico to war and pene an
bacon to eat, an Hope she'll now git as
good as anybody. Iiev angels got to be
eddicated?"
"No ma'am. All are alike"
That's powerful. right. Poll never
ven to skule but two days, an if the Lord
should Ak her how fur it was to Green's
boro, or whar the Tennessee begun, he'd
hev her up a tree. Yes. that's powerful
right"
IAN gwine barfut an smokin' n pipe or
dippin' snuff wouldn't connt agin her,
would it?n asked the father.
81 think not. There was nothing evil in
that"
mot a bit. Poll was a powerful good
gal. It's like losin' teeth to lose her.
The deceased was dressed in her Sunday
calico, placed in a rude coffin, which one
of the men had spent the night in making,
and the grave was dug on a knoll about
forty rods away. About twenty-five peo-
pie were in attendance, and every one was
a genuine sympathizer. Each man, as he
shook hands with Morgan, said:
I'm powerful sorry, Dan, but it had to
be-"
And each woman sought t o comfort Mrs.
Morgan by saying:
''She's better off. poor thing-a heap
better off nor we who ar left in this shuck-
less woridi''
When the tune came for the preacher to
step forward and ~ofieiate his nerve failed
him, and he arose and said:
''IIe'un is from the moth, and he'un
kuuNs bGlbtI NHat u sly t%t hN us y,
ahead"
Stranger, might AK ye to obleege?"
queried Morgan. I'VE is pore an humble
critters, bat we try to live in sich a way as
not make the Lord ashamed of us. Ye
might not be a psrlessed Christian, but We
are sure your heart is right"
| tried TO comfort them in their sorrow;
they were all fervent singers, and some
how we got along all right. When the
mother took her last look at her dead
child she held up her hands and said:
"Oh, Lord, I'm dependin' on We through
all my tribulationsl I'm only a pore crit
ter in the mountains, and ! can skeercely
spell your name in print. but don't desart
me now when heaps of trouble press me
down. Let Poll into heaven, and when the
rest of us die let US in, too, and We will
praise Thy name forever. Amen"
When all had taken a last look every eye
was wet with tears. Rough, uneouth, nm
educated, living scarcely like civilized be-
ings; but their hearts were as tender as chill
dren's and their words were honest. As
the coffin lid was being screwed down an
old woman spoke up: