Martinsburg herald. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1881-1920, 1891-10-17
THE GOURD BANK.
BY TOM P. MORGAN.

'Nick," said Mr.. Jim Conway, in
terrupting the tune he was whistling, to
address tine man who rode beside him,
''I hain't felt so much like boy in
years.
''Nor me either!" returned Mr.. Mich
olas Nickerson, also breaking off in the
mist of a whistled tune. ~ feel like
I'd just broke out of a cage"
They were rough-bearded, ;arelessly-
dressed men, with sun-browned faces
and toll hardened hands, but they were
as happy as kings in purple and fine
linen. They were going home.
For almost one-half their lives they
had called wherever they happened to
be in the West 'thome," but now they
were on their way back to the place
where they were born.
"Queer," said Conway, slowly, "that
the longer a man stays away from the
old home neighborhood, the better he
likes it. When left it l was so tired
of them simple old scenes that thought
l hated EN-. But, now
He paused, half-asbamed to tell his
C0mraue more.
"Yep," agreed Nickerson, "Atter q
while every old tree an rock an slope
an medder that he ort to have forgotten
long along, kinder-klnder seems like a
brother
"a man gifts kinder hungry to see EN-
again, said Conway.
''Yep, kinder hungry"
Presently Conway said, slowly, 81
seen a woman once who'd been driven
crazy by that hunger Youngish wo
man-moved out to the Panhandle
country from Ohio; used to the hills an
woods an rivers all her life | don't
know all of her story, but anyhow, she
couldn't take kindly to the prairie.
Finally, the baby died. After that
she'd stand in the open door most of
the time, an look off across the
prairie toward the east-toward home.
Her husbaud-wal, he was kept
busy tryin' to dig out Twin, an
thought it all foolishuess, anyhow, |
reckon. She didn't complain much, but
jest kept look n of across the prairie
tow ard the east, an CROWN thinner an
paler. Wal, when it was too late,
saw 'em at the depot; he was takin' her
to the asylum. She stood in the depot
door and looked out, and said, so far
So farn in the most hopeless voice |
ever heard. Prob'ly she didn't live an
suffer very long after that, for she was so
weak an worn that she could scarcely
stan without holdin' onto the door
posts. Her husband growled little
to somebody he knew, that the trip
was costin' him heap of money, an
takIn' him away from his crops jest
when they needed him most"
81 reckon you didn't get a chance t.
kick him.
mo, 1t d only made it worse fol-
the poor woman. But"
They said no more for some time aftel
that, but did not resume their whistling
Each realized in his heart something o
what the poor, home hungry woman hat
suffered.
'TWonder if anybody'l know us til
we tell EN- who we are2' said Nicholson
after a while.
Doubtful; mebby not then. Most o
the oldtimers are gone, an the younge
ones won't know us. But the old hill
an streams an crooks in the road won
be strangers. "
''No. Kinder queer, but I've though
more about them than about the people
none of mine are left now, you know"
''Nor mine, said Conway. Father
ga1Nfbar and l,r,fbnr I.,oI ,.aAo
married an gone"
Remember old Gran'p Watrous
who used to go dodderin' up an dow
the street, sellin' early garden truck iron
a basket with blue stripe around itl
asked Nickerson, musingly.
ayes. Remember how you could gi
him started to tellin' story, an max
HIM forgit in five minutes what he hat
come for?"
II should say so! Like TO see ole
gran'pap again. Wonder if he
"That was twenty-fv years ago,
interrupted the other, gravely.
"That's SOL"
The sun was dropping behind a banI
of heavy clouds, slowly rising from abov
the western edge of the prairie, whel
they reached a homestead claim, anC
rode along its fence of barbed wir,
toward a weather-beaten little house nea
the further corner-a house out of sight
tunless the day was very clear, of othe
human habitations.
The fence was overgrown in place
with last summers weeds, and here and
there a post Topped over, rotted off a
the bottom, but partially upheld by the
tension of the wire.
The field within showed that it la
received but scanty cultivation during
the previous season, and had probably
borne out meagre crop.
Yet in that weather. beaten little house
dwelt capitalst-the sole proprietor oil
bank and the treasure therein.
The bank, which sat beside crazy
old clock on a shelf made of the side oil
a soap-box, was a small pudgy gourd
that stood up on its larger end, and hat
slit beside its stem for the introduc
ton of deposits.
In it was a capital of eleven cents.
The capitalist was jackson Bascom,
over whose towey head almost four years
had passed. Ten cents of the money
had been tossed before him by a passing
horseman, who had seen the old man.
nish-looking baby perched on the low
top-bar that helped to fill a gap i'll the
wire fence, and wanted to see the little
fellow smile dimes WORTH" as he ex
pressed it,