The Arkansaw traveler., 1889-06-08

81 don't do any such OF an internal thing. That
fellows fool"
"He has given US four hundred and fifty pages OF
dry ROT which he call history of Shellcut county
IL Is the poorest work Of q frost bitten humorist
The compositors who put Il In type and the men
who read the proof have our sympathy"
Damned scoundrell" exclaimed the colonel
walking up and down the room striking his fists
together. "I could white on his liver and thank
God for the opportunity. Read the next one, sub. "
"Iere we have the New York Ere'tag Gossip"
"Go ahead with It,"
1--WE do not wonder at bloodshed In kentucky
County are sprung upon the people of that state
indeed we would rather commend the shooting OF
one Osbury who"
"Give me that Internal sheet I"
The old man snatched the paper, tore IL to pieces
threw II on the floor and stamped on 1t.
al wish to God, Phil we hadn't written the
Internal thing. Read another one. | am prepared
for anything now"
"This is the New York Uhireyse"
"Rattle ahead"
"sThe History of Shellcut County, written by
| Remington Osbury, is one of the most amusing
books that has, for many day, reached our table
1t is full of the richest of anecdotes softened with
true pathOs and Is, throughout gracefully written
The author has q happy knack of terse expression
and an admirable skill in character drawing. The
book is we'll worth reading"
"By George, sub, there is q sensible man and a
true gentleman" the colonel deightedy ex-
claimed. "Read that again"
did so. THAT man knows what he Is talking
about sub he's gentleman. oh, we're coming
out on top. Go ahead"
| l then read the following from the Chicago
Prairie: "sThe History of Shelcut County, by
Remington Osbury, of Kentucky, is one of the
most delightful books we have ever read. The
author is scholar, and Is, we see, most genial
and kind hearted gentleman"
"Good !" exclaimed the colonel. There's one OF
natures nobemen, sub. Phil, by George, we'll
write q book every year. | tell you, this country
is waking up to the necessity of good, strong
American work. We have stuffed ourselves with
English books long enough-we've had enough
foreign plum pudding, and what the people need
now is the hog and hominy of America. Wen
give 1t to them. Wen write book every year,
| subj"
There remained not trace of his anger ne was
joyous and lovable old man
CHATTER XIII.
At last l had found the work for which was
best fitted. Every detail of my employment was q
pleasure Hitherto every undertaking hah been
beset with anxiety the fear of failure had burned
the edge of pleasure but Low there fear, for
each day could see the approaching fulfllment OF
natures generous promise. The ripening wheat
and the heading OATS the young corn and the clover
land overspread with q rich mantle of purplish
green-each held sweet pleasure for me. At
morning, when the spider webs, dew-jeweled,
| caught the image of the sun, and at evening when
bull-bats beloved in the fading light, Lucille
would come out to the field. Sometimes she would
gather wild flowers and decorate me until must
have resembled q barbaric chief; and sometimes at
noon she would hitch old Tom to the buggy, and,
| bringing luncheon, would drive around into the
woods What picnics of enjoyment What bill
of farel One day while we were eating Isom came
up to the fence and standing with his arms resting
on the top rail, regarded US with keen interest
"Dat's de way l likes ter see white folks ack, ("
said he. "Yas, it is, Mr.. Phil; vas, 1t is, sab.
1 l.
grass an sets down dater way an eats wy, it's den
time fur me ter say dats de way ter ack An dat's
de way ter cut pound cake, too-in big pieces.
Oar amt nuthin' 1 hates ter see wust den little
pieces o. cake, Gaze l argys dat eff man gwine ter
feed de chickens let him feed de chickens but eff
gwine ter feed folks, wy den, let him feed folks.