Western Kansas world. [volume] (WaKeeney, Kan.) 1885-current, 1890-07-19
A BACKwOeDs SUNDAY.
~ Described BY OhIe r. Bead In the
ArkAnsaW Traveller.

A Sunday in the backwoods of Ten
nessee, viewed by one whose feet rarely
stray from the worn paths of active Life,
may hold nothing attractive, but to the
old men and women-the youth and
maiden of the soil-it is q poem that
comes once a week to encourage young
love with its soft sentiment and soothe
old labor with its words of promise.
In the country where the streams are
so pure that they look like strips of
sunshine, where the trees are so ancient
that one almost stands in awe of them,
where the moss, 80 old that it is gray,
and hanging from the rocks in the
rayine, looks like venerable boards
growing on faces that have been hard
ened by years of trouble-in such q
country, even the most slouching clown,
walking as though stepping over clods
when blowing where the ground breaks
up hard, has in his untutUred heart q
love Of poetry. He may not be able to
read-may never have heard the name
OF son of genius, but In the evening,
when he stands on a purple @knob,"
watching the soul of day sink out of
sight In far-away valley, he is a roet.
When the shadow of Saturday night
falls upon backwoods community in
Tennessee, quiet Joy seems to lurk in
the atmosphere The whippoorwill has
sung unheeded every night during the
week, but tonight his song brings a
promise of rest. The tired boy sits in
the door, and, taking off his shoes,
strikes them against the log doorstep to
knock the dirt out, and the cat that has
followed the women when they went
to milk the COWS, comes and rubs
against him. The humming- bird,
looking for late supper, buzzes among
the honeysuckle blossoms, and the
tree-toad cries in the locust tree. The
boy goes to bed, thrilled with an expecta-
ton. He muses.: Il will see somebody
tomorrow"
On the morrow the woods are full of
music. The great soul of day rises
with burst of glory, and the streams,
bounding over the rocks or dreaming
among the ferns, laugh more merily
and seem to be brighter than they were
yesterday. Horses neigh near an old
church and a swelling hymn is borne
plowboy, sitting near the spring, needs
not the sacred music, but gazes intently
down the shady road. He sees some
one coming sees the futter of gaudy
ribbon and is thrilled. A young woman
comes up the road, coyly tapping an
old mare with dogwood switch, and
eager lest some one else may perform
the endearing Office, he hastens to help
the young woman to alight. He tries
to appear unconcerned as he takes hold
of the bride rein, but he stumbles
awkwardly as he leads the animal
towad the horse-block. When he has
helped her down and has tied the horse
it is his blessed privilege to walk with
the girl as far as the church door.
whats Jim a-doin'?" he asked as
they walk along, under the embarras-
sing gaze of score of men.
"Plowed yistidy; amt doin' nothin'
to-day"
BE here to-day, l reckon" he re-
joins.
"No, went to preachin' at Ebenee-
zer
What's Tom a-doin'?"
went to mill yistidy; amt doin'
nothin' to-day"
"Be here to-day, reckon"
HE lowed he mout, but don't know
whether he will or not"
What's Alf a-doin'?"
"Cut sprouts an deadened trees
yistidy; amt doin' nothin' to-day"
BE here to-day, reckon"
eyes, lowed he was a comm with
Sue Prior"
Anybody goin' home with you,
Liza?"
"Not that I know of.
wall, if nobody else amt spoke I'd
like to CO."
We'll see about it." she answers and
then enters the church. He saunters
off and sits down under q tree where q
number of young men are wallowing on
shawls, spread on the grass. The
preacher becomes warm in his work
and the plow-boy hears him exclaim:
What can a man give In exchange for
his own soul;" but he is not thinking of
souls, or of an existence beyond the
horizon of this life; bis mind is on the
girl with the gaudy ribbon, and he is
asking his heart if she loves him. The
shadows are now shorter and hungry
men cast chances at the sun, but the
preacher, shouting in broken accents,
appears not to have reached the first
mile stone of his text and it is evident
that he started ont with the intention
of going Sabbath days journey"
One young fellow places his straw hat
over his face and tries to sleep, but
some one tickles him with a spear of
grass. An old man who has stood it as
long as he could in the house, and who
has come out and lain down, gets up,
stretches himself, brushes a clinging
leaf off his gray jeans trousers and
declares: "a bite to eat would hit me
harder than a sermon writ on a rock.
Don't see why man wants to talk all
day."
Thought you was mighty fond of
preachin', Uncle john" some one
remarks.
"Am, but don't want man to 90
over an over what he has already dun
said. If my folks want In thar I'd mosey
off home an git suthin' to eat"
Good book says man don't live by