The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1889-11-14

She enters, radiant as the morn.
When soft the perfum ed zephyr blows
And rosy ttnts the skies adorn,
And dewdrops sparkle on the rose.
The youth for whom she thus is armed
Is by her loneliness abashed;
He stares, is fascinated charmed,
In short, incontinently masked.
boston Courier.
KILDEE'S LOVERS.
A Tale of Vale Cruois, as Told by
an Old Mountaineer.
During the summer of 1888, it was
the writer's pleasure to accompany the
Democratic Gubernatorial candidate OF
North Carolina on his canvass through
the wild. mountainous country in the
western portion of that State. The trip
was made by private conveyance, and
everywhere We were received with that
rough but hearty cordially peculiar to
this mountain people. At night, when
we tarried at some lonely. wayside
cabin, nestled in the heart of the great
Blue Ridge, every thing was done for
our comfort and enjoyment. The finest
game the mountains furnished, the
sweetest honey the bees made, the rich
est milk the COWS gave, were set be-
fore us
At night, sitting around a blazing log
flre' we were often entertained by tales
OF mountain life told by the mountain
GERS in their own inimitable way. The
experience with the ferocious animals
that once infested the country were o.
citing, the recitals of scenes when the
red man ruled supreme were harrow
ing and blOod-curdling; but the follow
ing little history of the life of one OF
these mountain people, usually 80 free
from any thing like romance, told us
at the little place called Vale Crucis.
in Mitchell County, was especially in.
teresting to our party.
THE TALE.
''Jedge," said an old mountaineer,
apparently eighty years of age. address.
ing the Gubernatorial candidate, "thr's
ar leetle grave up Their mountain-side
which I'll take yer ter arter risin'-time
ter-morrer. 1t hev been ar mighty
long time ergo since it war made; but
even now when sits down an thinks
bout Their life of Their one that lies
in that lonesome place. whar thor
wolves howl an Their wind blows so
cold, l can't keep back Their tears; no,
Jedge, I can't. An Their amt none of
this here stuff what yer read bout in
books in this what I'll tell yer nuther;
Their whole thing is true, sho' as the
Lord made me. ev'ry word, an ez nigh
ez can tell it ter you.
'When was ar boy long. long time
ergo, ole Squire Smith he lived at Pig
Pen Gap. bout ten mile down Their
creek. He had ar leetle gal named
Mary. She had them great big black
eyes what 'ud shine like ar bucks on
ar dark night, an them long curls that
'ud fly in Their win. She wuz ar mighty
spry creeter. She could run an CHM
ar tree wus'n ar squirrel with ar dog
AFTER him. An cause she could do all
SIGH. we-uns allus called her Kildee.
"Ole Squire Pearson lived up Their
branch not so mighty fur. He'd come
thar ar good many years afore, but
nobody didn't seem to know nothin'
much bout him. He had ar chap
named Bill. Me an Bill was pardners,
but, ledge, we warn't no more like
than ar pig an ar puukin. Bill he
war Their best Teller you ever seed. He
wouldn't hurt nothin'. If we'd start
out huntin' and fin some game, Bill
wouldn't want ter shoot it. An then
he didn't take no intrust in things
like me. When we'd go ter git chest
nuts an SIGH, he'd furgit all bout
what he cum after an go set down on
ar log; he wouldn't say nary ward but
look right at Their ground. Pear'd like
he war thinkin' bout somethin' way
off. An 'ther he'd set till I'd chuck
him with ar burr m say: Wake up
I'd allus be askin' him what allied him.
an he'd say 'Nothin'.' But thought,
an ! knowed Their was; an 80 one day
when we were out fishin' an Bill was
settin' on Their bank, dun forgot bout
fish an was lookin' in Their water,
went an set down right close ter him
an SEE: Bill, we-uns have been tighten
good chums nearly ever since we wuz
whimperin, but yer hain't never
tor me what in the worp tits you
air allus studyin' bout. Now come,
ole Teller, an tell me what tbs. 'Pullin.
hisself tergether, turnin' roun' and
lookin' me spang in the eye, he sed:
Ike. Dad has allus tole me this yer is ar
great big worl', an that he ulster, way
long time ago, live in one of them big
things what yer call cities, whar thar s
mo- folks lives tergether than thar be
in Mitchell County two times big. An
Their folks what live thar have got
larnin'. amt got no min as to what
Their thing be, but Dad SCI it am mighty
good. It's gittin' gumption in yer
head. Now I'd jes' like ter go to one
of them places and git ar peep-but
you is Their fust creetur ever toll, an
Say. fellers, hev found a new
cave ter make ar house in. Come right
on!' Lookin' up we seed Kildee. When
Bill seed her his eye begun to shine
(mine too, speks, ledge, said the old
man, laughing). Me an Bill both
liked Kildee like she were our sister;
it were Their only thing me and him
was like in. .Jedge, yer bet we three
had Their biggest time round this yer
ole settlement you ever hearn of. We'd
play like we wuz growed up an 'ud
keep house an all SIGH things. Course
Kildee 'ud be Their ole oman an keep
house. Me an Bill did Their huntin'
and she'd do Their skinnin' an cookin'
'ceptin' oncet in ar while when we
didn't kill enough to suit her. she'd
grab the ole flint rifle, go in Their woods,
an when it banged somethin' allua
drapped. WAL, yer bet she could shoot.
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