The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1889-04-10
Mr.. WILKINS SET O. GALS.
BY JACKSON BOYD.

the dust-laden lane. The weather was vet
warm. Mr.. Wilkin had no coat on his
broad back. His body seemed to be held
together by one broad home-knit sus-
pender, which supported a pair of
dusty, gray, jeans trousers. His coarse,
colored cotton shirt, ornamented
with heavy porcelain buttons, was
open at the throat and dis
played skin as red as a turkey gobbler's
snout approached close to the bars, for
his front fence did not enjoy the civilized
luxury of gate, and accosted him with a
pleasant good afternoon and the question;
''Is this Mr.. Wilkin ?"
That's my name. Who mout you be ?''
He looked at me as at horse he was buy
ing of a Gypsy.
"My name is Smith. I'm the new
teacher who is employed to teach the
Block school," He looked at me more
closely than ever.
"Yoo're not married ?"
"No, sir
"Whare We frum|
Maxwell"
"Eny kin to Billy Smith ?'
"a distant relative"
KNOW DOC SlaVenS
Eyes, sir. He is my neighbor."
"He cured Polly Jeemes OF the janders."
Mr.. Wilkin relapsed into study which
gave me an opportunity to count thirteen
children, six of them young women; all
were gazing at me from respectable points
of observation like cattle when they first
sight an approaching object.
you'll want some place to stopY
Eyes, sir. NY business is to arrange
for boarding place for the winter"
Wal, I'll try an 'commodate We for the
night" He turned and hallooed toward
the house: Amanda Jane, sit mother
plate. This is the new teacher"
There was hustling from the one win
dow, the open door and the other points of
observation as we directed our steps to-
ward the house. Disappearing calico
dresses and flaxen heads could be seen in
almost all directions. Just then large
cur dog of the color called "yaller," which
is by no means yellow, but muddy white,
came up shifting at my heels. Mr.. Wilkin
kicked the dog and exclaimed: "Coon, We
rascal, this IS the new teacher"
This was the only introduction l re-
ceived that day. The dog limped off on
three legs, yet l could see he was not hurt
but only pretending to be so as to avoid
further ill-treatment, a way all country dogs
have. The youngest and boldest child
met us at the door, the father stopped and
gathered it in his enormous arms and
remarked: John Sam, you toadI'
No one was in the front room, all OF its
occupants having scampered pellmell into
the back room. The ceiling was very
| low; one could scarcely stand erect. 1t
was upholstered and the broad boards were
smoked to a dark brown color. The floor
was of heWed oak planks. On the south
side of the room was a broad Fireplace.
with a chimney made of sticks and clay.
The hearth was of broad fiat stones.
There were two old-fashioned high bed
steads in the room with just enough space
between them and the ceiling for one to
crawl under and sleep. The chairs were
all split bottoms, but of different sizes
each chair looked like the last remains of a
former set. The bureau had enough timber
in it to make a half dozen modern
bureaus. The loOklng-glass was orna-
mented with a transverse crack which dis
torted ones image into harmony with the
surrounding circumstances. A new-made
maui was on the hearth seasoning; sew
eral pieces of ax-handle timber were in
the corner of the room; the gun was over
the door; bunch of long, snoot-like ears
of corn were hanging from the ceiling on
one side, while on the opposite side were
caught and suspended various strings of
dried apples. This is what l saw at my
first glance. Another glance at the beds
and l saw, almost concealed, the short,
stubby legs of two trundle-beds, which
looked odd, as the coverings of the upper
beds came just low enough to remind one
of short skirts. An old straw hat, with
y,,orlyc on tic aolinO liriorr
was living in the center of the floor; a kick
from the farmer made it disappear as if by
magic.
take a cheer, said Mr.. Wilkin, and he
placed for me his best chair, which was
covered with brown sleeps skin. "Tll
see bout supper"
He left me to my thoughts. AS the door
opened into the kitchen saw a very long
room filled with lodging faces, then the
door swung to with a machine-ike action.
The white hickory latch, like a single jaw
bone of some extinct reptile, caught in the
notched groove, shook like it was trying
its own fastening powers, then stopped
satisfied.
Several children were now peeping in
at the front door. One of them hit a large
hound, which rushed into the house with
spiteful hine, went to the warm hearth
and shut himself up as neat as coiled
rope. | could hear the sound of subdued
voices from the rear room, the rattle Of
pots and pans; then there fell on my ear
an unearthly sound, a rafting of chains,
a bump, bump, bump of some solid body,
then a squeaking sound like an old wagon,
after this the sound of pouring water. The
old man opened the kitchen door.
"Come in tur supper, Nancy, bring the
cheers"
rose. A large, very pleasant-looking,
modest young woman entered and took
the chairs, two at a time, into the kitchen
and placed them around the high trough
like table.
"Take that ar place"
He pointed and sat down. The kitchen
was very long and looked as though it was
made up of segments-a new addition at
the birth of each child.
''Dye We belong tur meetin' ?"
"No, SIR" replied; then / quickly re-
marked, "howeyer. have been raised
methodist" | did not know but what
"belongin' tur meetin'" was one of the
qualifications of a school teacher. The
farmer bowed his head and said grace so
low, that, as l had closed my eyes, they
were all eating before knew it. This was
a bit of accidental hypocrisy, for they
thought / was praying.
'Now, help yerself to what We see. We
live ter home hur."
The farmer, his wife, his youngest
child and two eldest daughters were at
the table; where the other children were