The Dickinson press., 1891-07-25
A Sand Killers Logic,

Years ago two Georgia attorneys
were travelling on horse on the "cir.
cult" in that State. Their route lay
across the sandy hills that form the
northern boundary OF the Altamalla.
one of the dreariest streams in the
world. The hills about it are as bare
and desolate az the Arabian plains.
After this sweeping assertion it
would be "surplussage" to go any
further. 1t has been said, however,
that you "might pant q Yankee
there and he wouldn't grow" which
is more sweeping still. No effort OF
industry or ingenuity could coax q
blade of grass to rear its head above
the level Of the sterile soil.
. 1t was a rainy, gloomy day when
our friends struck this benighted
country, and after travelling many
long miles without seeing sign o lany-
thing human they were greatly re
joiccd to discover smoke gracefully
ascending from II chimney ola cabin
I'm i'll shapen, clnmsily constructed
affair, but nevertheless IL cabin.
The lawyers dismounted and
entered. a fire OF pinewood Tor
"lightwood MS the vernacular goes)
blazed cheerily on the hearth. In one
corner a bakers dozen ofyellow-faced
children where huddlcd. On the only
bed in the room sat IL woman, u tall,
gaunt female, with huge punches oi
uncombed red hair. On the only
stool the cabin boasted, before the
the grateful fire, the''load of crea-
tion' sat shivering under the malign
influence Of n tertian ague.
Good morning, my FRIEND" said
one OF the visitors, with his usualpo-
likeness and urbanity.
"Mornin'," was the laconic reply
of his host. The conversation which
ensued approached a rather sur
prising climax, when our friends fled
precipitately.
"Fine situation you have here"
resumed the nan oflaw, blandly.
"Fine HI! What's it fine fer?"
why, ! should suppose you would
find excellentsport here, hunting and
trapping"
",Then ye'd 'spose a dang lie,
stranger! le CANT hunt 'cep'n'
thar's somethin' to hunt at, kin ye?"
"No: that's IL very clear case; l
thought, however, that beingso near
the river youcould find plenty ofdeer.
Still, lift is notgoodhuntingg ground,
it is a fine place for cattle raising"
"She be, be she? Sposin' the::cuttle
getsintheswampsen en- the dangedriver
rises on 'em en- the cussed fools don't
git out of the way en- git drownded?
How We goin' to raise 'em then, hey?"
"That is certainly very bad" u.s.
sented the interchangeable attorney,
"but there is one comfortleft for you.
If you have not the richest
soil, nor the best hunting
ground nor the greenest pasturage,
you have what is better than a mon
arch's diadem or the highest niche
in the temple of Fame-you have
healthy"
"The douse I have, stranger! Do
you see them .yaller complacated
brats thar in the cornder? Them's
got health, hnin't they? The old
woman thar, now hain't she got it
down fine? En- look Mt me with this
here cussed ager a shakin' my bone
to Jelly; you call that health, don't
your"
"Look here, my friend, answer me
this. If you can't got anything to
grow here and nothing to hunt; if all
your cattle drown and your family
are sick all the while, why in the
name of common sense don't you
leave? Why do you stay?"
ooh, well-'case the light wood
knots are so 'mazin handy!''-N. Y.
Herald.