Fort Worth weekly gazette. [volume] (Fort Worth, Tex.) 1882-1891, 1890-04-03


they only crossed the green between the
little white schoolhouse and old man
Jobson's patch and waited under the
great black walnut tree until they saw
the hack coming with Bess and Ma y
trotting fast, their tails and names in
the air.
In Arkansas a hack is merely spring
wagon, probably so named because of
the hard usage to which such vehicles are
exposed IN Arkansas roads.
Already the hack was splashed with
mud. The spirited horses wore their
natural winter coats.
Col. Seyton sat, alone, on the front
seat Of the wagon and the other seat was
empty.
Every little darlley on the plantation
would grin at the sight of Col. Seyton s
tanned, smiling face, and bright blue
eyes. They were Scotch, the Seytons, a
hundred years ago, and the southern sun
might stain their fair skins, but it could
not darken their clear blue eyes or fade
out the red dash in the brown OF their
curly hair.
Col Dick Seyton's left sleeve was
pinned TO his breast, but with the reins
about his neck, and with his strong
right hand he guided his horses perfectly.
Re had lost his arm on the same battle
field which gave him his colonel's eagle.
4 score Of times had the old soldiers in
his fathers regiment told Alan that
story, until he seemed TO see the red and
white flag falling and his father with his
shattered arm springing from his horse,
catching the cOlors with the sound hand,
waving them, beating down the Yankee
gunner with the staff itself, and then
sinking, but even as he dropped, clutch
ing the staff so that 1t still could float
above his pTosUTate body.
'And we won the fort, didn't we?''
Alan would cry with sparkling eyes,
Zone of the men hollered Don t
leave the major and the flag, and then
they went flying up the ramparts, didn I
they?''
Not until long afteTward did the boy
understand why Old Cobbs gave quiet
sort OF sigh as he answered; 'Oh, yes,
boy, we wOn-that time? ''
To-day, however, Alan 5 brain had
other matters for digestion. He Clipped
away with his broken bladed pocket
knife at the edges of the big sign nailed
on the walnut tree: but il was purely
from the boyish instinct to be destroying
something, for his thoughts were far
away. So were Sally's. ''Do you
reckon he VIII look like his picture,
AlIy?''
''No, said Ally, sorrowfuny, "do
we look like our pictures that we sent
him.
1--WE do little, - Sally suggested
meekly; sometimes people look like
their pictures.
Well, l don't care, if he is nice.
daresay he can't shoot AIan's
thoughts had left the unimportant sub
ject OF appearance and gone 10 the real
business of life-''I IN going 10 lend him
my gun and show him.
''And III show him how TO row, -
said Sally. ''Say, Ally - ism t it lucky
we got all those peoans drying? Course
he likes pecans. -
"How do you know? But everybody
likes pecans. Northerners don't like
persimmons; that's what they don
like. -
ellis room is all ready" The chill
dren were pursuing different lines of
thought, although they converged on the
same subject. al finished the pin cush-
ion yesterday, and he's got the silk
quilt. Sally's tones were reverentiaI.
Mamma says he g going to have it all
the time. And she e put in the dressing
case. -
1.-THE one he sent her last Christmas
from London, with all the ivory
things?'