San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1892-01-09

from monotony by certain pastoral
peacefulness and look Of careless plenty,
which with thrift might have become
abundance. In the meadows the grass
grew rich and riotous between the tall
stacks of cured hay, and the fields of
corn and tobacco gave vigorous promise
of noble harvest. The water also
teemed with life and shiftless, out-at-
elbow energy. Shabby looking fishing
smacks, with dirty white wings, like
birds too indolent to plume themselves,
passed constantly, and fat bottomed
canoes, manned by good humored negro
oystermen, piled a lazy, thievish trade
with passing steamers.
Presently gate slammed somewhere
IN the regions back of the house, and
there was sound of neighing and
trampling. Pocahontas leaned far out,
shading her eyes with her hands, to
watch the colts career wildly across the
lawn, with names and tails and caper-
ing legs tossed high in air in the exuber-
ance of equine spirits. Following them
sedately came q beautiful black mare,
stepping high and daintily, as became q
lady of distinction. She was Kentucky
born and bred, and had for sire none
other than Goldenrod himself In an
swer to coaxing whistle of invitation
she condescended to approach the
window and accept sugar and caresses.
Pocahontas patted the glossy head and
neck of the beauty, chattering soft nom
sense while the little heap of sugar she
had placed on the window sill vanished.
Presently she laid an empty palm against
the nose pushed in to her and dealt it
gentle blow.
"That's all, Phyllis; positively all this
morning. You would empty the sugar
bowl if I'd let you. No, take your nose
away; it's all gone; eleven great Jumps
have you had, and the feast of the gods
is over"
But Phyllis would not be convinced;
she pushed her nose up over the window
ledge and whinnied softly. AS plainly
as horse can beg, she begged for more,
but her mistress was obdurate. Placing
both hands behind her she drew back
into the room laughing.
mot another lump" she called. eleven
are enough. Greedy Phyllis, to beg for
more when you know I'm in earnest. Go
away and play with the colts. you'll get
|, no more today"
You'll never make Phyllis believe
that, my DEAR" remarked tall, gray
haired lady, in pretty muslin cap, who
had entered unperceived.
"Oh, yes, mother. She understands
quite well. See, she's moving off already.
Phyllis knows | never break my word,
and that persuasion is quite useless, re-
piled Pocahontas, turning to give her
mother the customary morning kiss, to
place her chair before the waiter for her
and to tell her how becoming her new
cap was. The Masons never neglected
small courtesies to one another.
The branch of the Mason family still
resident at the old homestead of Lanarth
had dwindled to four living representa-
tives-Mrs. Mason, who had not changed
her name in espousing her cousin Tenn
pie Mason, of Lanarth, and her son
Berkeley, and daughters Grace and Po-
cahontas. There had been another son,
Temple, the younger. whose story form
ed one of those sad memories which are
the grim aftertaste of war. All three of
the Masons had worn gray uniforms; the
father had been killed in a charge at
Malvern Hill, the elder son had lost his
good right arm, and the younger had
died in prison.
Nf A.. +x,,o laro,taro Groca hoH oarlv
fulfilled her destiny in true Virginian
fashion by marrying distant connection
of her family, Mr.. Royal Garnett,
who had been playmate of her broth
ers, and whose plantation lay in an ad-
joining county. With praiseworthy
conservatism, Mrs. Garnett was duph-
eating the uneventful placidity of her
parents early years, content to rule her
household wisely, to love and minister
to her husband, and to devote her ener-
gies to the rearing of her children ac-
cording to time honored precedent. Po-
cahontas, the Youngest of the family,
was still unmarried, nay, more-still un-
engaged.
They had called her "Pocahontas" in
obedience to the unwritten law of south
ern families, which DEGREES that an an
cestor's sin of distinction shall be visited
on generations of descendants in the per-
petuation of name no matter what its
hideousness. 1t seems a popularity of
distinguished persons to possess names
singularly devoid of beauty; therefore,
among the burdens entailed by pride
upon posterity, this is grievous one.
Some families, with the forest faint in
|. their blood, at an early date took refuge
in the softer, prettier "Metoaca;" but
not so the Masons. 1t was their pride