The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1890-11-29

heart leaped as the shrill whistle re-
sounded among those laurel en-
ameled hills!
Her steps did not talter, however,
as she approached the track, waving
her shawl as a signal for them to
stop. The conductor saw her. stop
ped the train and helped her aboard.
He could not avoid motto ng how
neat she was, and thought she must
have been over 70 years old how
sprightly she was
Where to? he asked kindly, hav-
ing seated her comfortably in the
train.
Ter Pittsburg, she replied, taking
out an old ta-hioned reticule. Open.
ing it she disclosed her knitting and
clear, yellow cotton handkerchief,
in the folds OF which she kept her
money, the little sums which Jack
had sent from time to time from the
far west, and others which were the
fruits Of her own industry.
AT Pittsburg she bought through
ticket to Denver, Coo.
It's a long, tiresome trip for one
of your years, remarked the conduc-
tor, who had assisted her.
Yes, | reckon it be, she returned,
but thar be worse things ter endure
in this life than long trips on kyars
then | be mighty sprylike fur a
tol bic ole woman
! You haye friends out there?
! Yes; be goin' ter Jack.
And you're going alone' he asked
sympathiz ngly.
Their Lord, he be with me, she re-
piled with one of her dear, old
motherly smiles
He did not leave her until he had
| seen her sea,ed on the right train;
then he went home to his young
wife and baby, and, with tears in his
manly eyes, told OF the old lady
who was travelling all the long dis
tance from the Pennsylvania noun
tains to some wild place in the far
away west
At Chicago roughly clad, but
kindly natured, elderly westerner,
Sllas Carrick by name, boarded the
train for Denver. He became inter
estee at once in the little o.d fashion,
ed woman, who reminded him in so
many WAYS of hs own mother, long
since laid to rest in hillside bury
ing ground Of New Eng land
After travelling a short time Siias
Carrick, seeing her look said, said
to her:
guess, mother, ye be fur from
yer ole home, and ther change
makes yer feel sorter lonesome like.
Well, ther change has kinder up
sot me, she admitted. So difrunt
trum ther mountings whar l was
raised in Pennsylvania. l never
reckoned on Jacks being 50 fur off. |
Jack? Silas Carrick asked.
Yes. Jack-Jack Tompkins-he's |
my youngest, an / be goin' l out |
ter him, she answered.
What does he foller fur livin' in |
Colerader? Silas questioned.
He use ter herd sheep fur a man
erbout ther gulches and sich places,
an done tol' bic we'll ike out thar,
she said But its been two years
since | heerd from Jack myself, |
though Peter got letter from him
long this summer. So be sure as
Jack well; but Peter never showed |
me ther Litter, an | don't know
'zactly whar ter find my boy.
An who's Peter? asked the good
hearted, if inquisitive, Silas.
Peter? Wy, he's my oldest boy.
Peter an Jack be all ther childrun |
have livin'. Peter lives in Pennsyl-
vany, an he's married an got big.
family, 1t don't seem as | orto tell
yer my family troubles, but reckon
travelin' so fur tergether makes Us
not strangers to each other; then
talkin' over body's worries kinder
gi2s relief
Yer kin trust me- mother, said the
big westerner.
Peter was ther oldest O. ther boys |
| raised, an allus a mite bossy like |
ter pore Jack. Jack was all of a |
dozen years younger'n Peter an he /
was allus full O life an go, an jest a |
wee bet wild, with nothing very bad |
erbout him. His hearts a big one
an in ther right place. an | bel i'eve
ther Lord O all will rescue my lack |
yit. | hain't lost my faith rome.
Well, when Peter got married an
come ter live with Jack an me he
went ter bossin' Jack more'n he, so
high strung like, would bear. SO he,
ups an runs away out west, an ther
turst thing l knowed he wrote as he
was tendin critters on ranch in
Colerader.
Then gin in ter Peters persuad-
IN an made my property oyer ter
him, with ther understandin' as he
was ter keep me an keer fur me
durin, my natural life. But he
gr owed greedy an | reckon tired O.
me, though the good Lord knows as
l was spry in dom enough ter 'arn
my eatin' an close. An Peter
i