The Carbon advocate. [volume] (Lehighton, Pa.) 1872-1924, 1889-10-12
PLEASED WITH 1AH cAIlLs.

Too lasy TO Entertain Hope and Not De-
sirouh OF Trying n New Tangled Disease.
Down in certain sections of the Mis-
sissippi river bottoms there is such an
air Of unconcern that the first thought
Of traveller is: "These people are too
lazy to entertain hope" 1t is, how
ever, not wholly condition Of laziness
that produces such an appearance of in
dolence. Laziness may play its part,
and, moreover, may play it well, but It
cannot hope to assume the leading role.
What, then, is the principal actor?
Chills. There are men in those bottoms
who were born with chill and who
have never shaken it off.
Some time ago, while riding through
the Muscadine neighborhood, l came
upon a man sitting on log near the
roadside. He was sallow and lean, with
sharp knob cheek bones and with hair
that looked like soiled cotton. The day
was intensely hot, but he was sitting in
the sun, although near him a tangled
grapevine cast a most inviting shade.
"Good morning." said l, refining up
my horse.
eli"
"You live here, I suppose"
"Jest about"
"Why don't you sit over there in the
shade2"
"Will when the time comes"
"What do you mean by when the time
comes?"
"When the fever comes on"
Having chills, are your"
"Sorter."
"How long have you had them2"
"Forty odd year."
"How old are your"
"Forty odd year"
"Been shaking all your life, ehY"
"Only half my life; fever was on the
other half"
"Why don't you move away from
here7"
"Becaze I've lived here so long that
I'm afeerd might not have good health
nowhar else."
"Gracious alive, do you mean to say
that having chills all the time is good
health?"
"Wall, health mout be wuss. Old Nat
Sarver moved up in the hills some time
ago, was tuck down putty soon with
some new sort of disease and didn't
live more'n week. Don't b'lieve in
swappin' off suthin' that I'm used to
for suthin' / don't know nothin' about
Old fashioned, every day chills air good
enough for me. Some folks, when they
git little up in the world, mout want
to put on airs with dyspepsia and bron-
kichus, and glanders and catarrh; but,
as lowed to my wife the other night,
old chills and fever war high enough
fur us yit awhile. A chill may have its
drawback, but it has its enjoyments,
too"
~ don't see how anything about a chill
can be enjoyable"
"Jest OWN to how you air raised, as
the Teller says, When have chill it
does me power Of good to stretch, and
tell you that fust rate stretch when a
feller is in the humor amt to be sneezed
at. I'd leave watermilion most any time
to have good stretch. High-o-hoop'
He gaped, threw out his legs, threw back
his arms and stretched himself across the
log, "It's sorter like the itch," he went
on. "The itch has its drawbacks, but
what power of good it does man to
scratch. Had uncle who cotch the itch
in the army, and he lay thar and
scratched and smiled and scratched agin,
In order to keep up with the demand of
the occasion he sprinkled a lot of sand
In his bed and tuck off all his clothes, 80
that every time he turned he'd be
scratched all over. He KEEP this up till
the itch killed him, but he died a-scratch-
In and a-smilin', and reckon he was
about as happy dead man as ever lived,
Wall, my fever is comm on now, and
reckon I'll git up thar under the shade. "
He moved into the shade and stretched
himself again.
"How long will your fever last?" l
ashed.
"Wall, I don't know exackly; three
hours, mebby."
"Then what"
"Wall, I'll funter around while, chop
up little wood to git bite to eat with,
swap hoss with some feller, mebby,
and then fix myself for another chill"
"Have you much of family"
"Wife and grown son. He's about
the ablest chiller in the country; wy,
when he's got rale good chill ON he can
take hold of tree and shake off green
persimmons. Wy, he wins all the
money the niggers have got, shakin'
dice. Wall, have you got to go?"
eyes"
"Wait till my fever cools down little
and I'll beaten you outen that nag you're
ridin',"
"No, don't care to walk"
"Good-by, then. When you git tired
livin' up thar among them new tangled
diseases come down here, whar every
thing is old fashioned and honest. "-Opie
p Reed in Arkansaw Traveller