Rock Island daily Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1886-1893, 1892-02-20

more than kitten can pan ore. They
run 10 extremes and hit the best part of
their ticks in tie wrong place"
He finished trimming his stick thought
fully, handling his knife dexterously
cutting with firm capable strokes, and
making every cut further his design.
The grain of the wood was close, its
fiber tough, but he worked on persist
entity, without hurry or waste, and
when he had completed the job TO his
satisfaction he closed the knife with a
sharp snap and returned it to his pocket.
The newInade cane was stout, and he
balanced it in his hand and then struck
it slnartly against the rail to test its
strength.
I've known the time when a good
Virginia hickory would have been a
mighty pleasant thing to handle out
yonder," he thought That night in
OHara's saloon when | caught Neal
cheating at draw poker and pinned his
hand to the table with my knife, stick
! like this would have been a handy play
| thing to amuse the roughs with. Lord!
how long ago the old time seems when |
remember what's come between"
There was slight rustling among the
dead leaves and grass of brier patch
near. The man turned his head instant
ly, as one accustomed to note the slight
est noise, and peered down into the
tangle. At first he could distinguish
nothing. but soon two long brown ears.
! crowniug a soft brown lump materialized
| from the uniform BROWNIES of its sur
roundings, and two black eyes, big and
| startled, regarded the intruder specu-
! latively. evidently trying to determine
| whether ms intentions were friendly or
the reverse. A sharp whirring sound as
| the hickory stick left the strong hand
| settled all doubts in the rabbits mind,
and with terrified bound she left her
| form, as the missile came Gathering
among the bushes
Anthony leaped from the fence and
| stopped for stone, which he sent whiz-
zing after the little beast, causing its
heart to jump in unison with its terrified
| legs, bat doing no other damage. An
thony trampled about among the briers
until he found his stick again, a trife
nettled by the futility Of both throws.
He revolted against failure of any kind.
The evening was drawing in, and the
air was heavy; from the river mists rose
and mustered in thick, vaporous masses
which rolled across the low grounds and
storuned the heights: the atmosphere was
dense with chill and moisture. Away
in the distance a COW lowed with long
| drawn insistence, and from nearer a calf
answered. Along the road at the foot
of the hill the form Of a woman passed
slowly, her steps so deadened by the
dampness that she appeared to drift
rather than walk. Anthony leaned for
ward, scanning the road through the
| gathering dusk. Only a negro woman
returning to her home from an errand
to the village, but so magnified by the
shifting fog, so etherealized by the illu-
sive mists, that she seemed an apparition
rather than thing of human mold.
| With hand appraised she steadied the
burden on her head and passed on,
singing, her voice rising and falling
with the wild, pathetic cadence of her
race. And the burden of the refrain
was disappointment and sorrow and
WEAKNESS, and the air, as it fioated back
TO the listener, was weird and sweet and
infinitely alluring.
| % BE CONTINUED