The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1889-06-20

was to split wood. These two men,
Uz Gaunt and Miles Overfeld, were |
master hands with an axe" as they |
promptly said of themselves. With
one foot resting upon the chopping-
block, and leaning upon his axe, Uz or
Miles twould critically examine what
ever had found; and then, after 81
lently gazing into the distance to recall
the past, with what an air of wisdom
would the information be forthcoming!
Nor would either of these old men
ever promptly resume his labor. Such
an interruption was sure to call up a
flood of memories, and delightful stories
of long ago made me quite forget my
play. Nothing that my own or another's
brain could suggest ever equaled in in
terest these old mems stories. l can
not clearly recall single one of them
now, but simply the effect they pro-
| duced, and the sad fact that. in their
estimation, the present never favorably
compared with the days when they
were young. And is it not ever SOP If
l have learned nothing else since then,
have learned this: that the glorious
future to which as child / looked for
ward has proved every thing but what
my fancy painted.
There was a comic side to my inter
views with the wood-ehoppers which I
recall even now with grim satisfaction,
for think it was right that outwitted
an unreasonably cross-grained aunt.
Often my heart was sorely troubled be-
cause, in the midst of most exciting
story, Aunt would call out: "Thee is
hindering Miles at his work; he doesn't
like to be bothered:n all of which
was in the interest Of the work being
done, and not Miles comfort Not
like to be bothered, indeed! Neither
he nor Uz disapproved of lettering, for
both were old, and Aunt knew this as
well as they. Before summer was over,
stratagem was devised that succeeded
admirably. l had merely to take my
place on the off side of the wood-pile,
where l was quite out of sight, and
Miles or Uz would work, oh, so dill
gently! at the light wood for half day,
which needed next to no exertion, and
all the while could talk as freely as
! when taking his incoming. Perhaps
it was not well, but young as then
was, [ learned that in human nature
the real and the apparent are too often
as widely apart as the poles.
The wild life that forty years ago
lurked in the woods and swamps of the
old farm was not different from what
! is still to be found there. but there has
I been a great decrease in the number
of many forms. The wildcat and fox,
perhaps, may be considered as really
: extinct although both are reported
at long intervals in the immediate
neighborhood. These, it is certain are
agglers-the former from the mount
aims to the north, the latter from the
pine regions toward the sea-coast. But
it has not been long since the raccoon
{ was regularly hunted during the moon
, lit winter nights, and the opossum
found security in half the hollow trees
, along the hillside. The dreaded skunk
was then abundant None of these,
however, can be said of common occur.
, renee now, and their discovery pro-
duces a ripple of excitement at present,
' while in my early days their capture
| excited scarcely a word of comment.
i Then the old woodpile was not infre-
: quently the hiding-place of one or more
[ of these ''varmints,n which raided
: the hen-roost, kept the old dog in a
fever of excitement. and baf1ed the
t the trapping skill of the oldest hands
; upon the farm. Now, at best, when
| the last sticks are cut and stored in the
| woodshed, the burrow of a rat is all
we find
{ With what glee do I still recall an
autumn evening, years ago, when the
| unusually furious barking of the old
mastiff brought the whole family to
t the door! In the dim twilight the dog
: could be seen dashing at and retreat
ing from the wood-pile, and at once the
| meaning of the hubbub was apparent.
/ Some creature had taken refuge there.
| A lantern was brought, and as every
man wished to be the hero of the hour,
| my aunt held the light. The wood-piIe
was surrounded; every stick was quick
J ly overturned, and finally skunk was
dislodged. Confused or attracted by
! the light, do not know which, the
| ''varmint' made straightway for the
J ample skirts of the old lady, followed
t by the dog, and, in a second. skunk,
J dog, lady and lantern were one undis.
tinguishable mass. My aunt proved
: the heroine of the evening, nor did the
| men object. l often pause at the very
: spot, and fancy that 'the scent of the
roses" doth '.hang around it still.'
A wood-pile, if it be not too near the
house, has many attractions for birds
t of various kinds, and l am at a loss te
know why the whippoorwill should, ol
t recent years, have forsaken it. Form.
t erly, the first of these birds heard in
} early spring was that which perched
r upon the topmost stick and whistled
| his friSvllable monOloo11a from darlr +r