The Opelousas courier., 1891-01-03
lRA'S FATHER.

LII
Country premises speak strongly Of
their owners tendencies. Marcus Win
chesterss barn was disproportionatelJ
large and good, and had a tin horse
hoisted from the ridge-pole. Stamping
and whinnyings were loud within, and
the pleasant barn odor was all-pervad.
ing.
1t was more like April than early win
ter. There was a warm wind, whose
dampness foretold a rain, beneath which
the dwindling remnants of snow would
vanish. 1t lay in melting, dirty drifts
here and there on grass of a vivid spring.
like green. Some belated frogs were
chirping somewhere near.
The largest drift was in the west cor
ner of the front yard, and Ira was play
ing in it. His method was to scrap to.
gether a large pile of it, and then, back.
ing to a considerable distance and re.
turning at full speed, to plunge head-frst
into it,and by violent efforts of his small
arms and legs, being flat on his stomach,
to scatter it ~riotously in all directions.
This he had been doing for an hour, and
wa not yet satisfied. He kept it up with
the enjoying solemnity of childhood, con
tent to play alone, because in the habit
of it; when some boys passed on their
way home from school, he paid no heed
to them. Ira had not felt like going to
school for several weeks, and had not
gone, therefore.
1t was five o'clock, and the fragrance
of coffee was filling all the outside air.
Ira's father shut the barn door and went
in.
'tSupper's ready now, Ira," he called.
There was in his tone an obvious effort
at careless c~heerfulness. Ira did not look
around.
His house-keeper, relative of the wife
be had married at twenty-one and lost
four years ago, was taking up the supper
in the warm kitchen where the table
stood. She looked harassed.
stIra's been out there in the wet a good
while, Marcus. He'll catch his death
cold Or have croop again" she said, and
Marcus stepped to the front door. His
head nearly grazed its top.
"Come in to your supper, Ira, he said,
and went back and drank his coffee for a
silent, strained five minutes. He and
Mrs. Paynter avoided looking at each
other. Then he stalked to the door
again. IRA" he called, sternly, ssyou
come right in here this minute and get
your supper"
Ira looked around. There was some
passing wonder in his serious blue eyes,
and there was distant regret or com-
miseration. He by no means disliked
his father; a certain quality of mildness
and sweetness which won other people
was plain enough to Ira's small percep-
tions. Turning back, he went on piling
up his dirty snow. His father stood and
looked at him, loath to go back to his
supper
HE hain't got his mittens on, has
he2" said Mrs. Paynter, in the alarmed
abstract contemplation which was theil
sole attitude toward Ira.
mo" said Marcus. He cleared his
throat before adding. "He's got his
coat off, too.
But his voice was choked. The poor
young father all at once sat down, and
leaned his head in bis hands.
The lines of his comely face
showed his disheartene7 depth oil
worriment. It was net for the first time.
He had wanted to do his duty by his
motherless boy, for whom his love was
strong, and had seen him growing more
froward and more, till now the utter
most limit of his ~foregone weak defeat
had long been reached. He had done
for him, anxiously if akwardly, all his
yearning heart had been prolific in
suggesting, and beheld him at eight
years old with an established reputatio \
for the worst child in town.
He comprehended that his own lacks
we're accountable. He was in some sort
afraid of Ira, whose self-ownership had
given him an uncanny oldness beyond
his years; and he had been timorous
where he should have been firm. A man
OF meaner parts, but ordinary self-assur.
ance, might have made of Ira a good
boy; Marcus had contributed to make
him the worst. He was self-reproach.
full, but he was powerless. He knew it
He knew Ira would go on serenely in
his habitual courses; would disregard all
but his own wayward guidance; would
60 on sitting up nights to such hours as
suited him, and eating when and what he
wanted to, and going to school when he
chose-which was seldom-and some
times disappearing entirely for varying
periods. And Marcus was helpless to dc
anything but to wonder dreadingly what
it would come to.
Ira remained in the yard, and at sil
o'clock his father, having done the barn
chores, went out to him with a warn
turnover. Ira, wet from head to foot,
his pale hair lying damp on his heated
face, took and silently ate it, sitting
down in the snow.
faint you coming in pretty soon, Iraa'
said his father. He doomed against the
fading sky, a powerful form standing
helpless as q baby.
ooh, I guess so,h said Ira.
sPut your coat on. Amt you coldth
his father imploreo.
Mop said Ira. He went on play
ing.
tsCome in, Ira. I'll crack some butter
nuts and bring up some apples
But Ira's tolerance was wearied. He
made no reply to this nor to his fathers
further appeals.
Marcus turned away. He wavered In
his course. Finally he went across lots
"a the nearest house. Until fhn naut