The Portland daily press., 1892-08-24
THE BLACK Dog.

Ihef6 was Co1SeleSS rumDlo IN Jno
air as the heavy rain drops battered
upon the laurel thickets and the matted
moss and haggard rocks beneath. Four
water soaked men made their difficult
ways through the drenched forest. The
little man stopped and shook an angry
finger at where night was stealthily fol-
lowing them. "Cursed be fate and her
children and her children's childrent
We are everlastingly lostw he cried.
The painting procession halted under
some dripping, dropping hemlocks and
swore in wrathful establishment.
at will rain for forty days and forty
nights" said the pudgy man moaningly,
land I feel like wet loaf Of bread now.
We shall never find our way out of this
wilderness until am made into por-
ridge"
In desperation they started again to
drag their listless bodies through the
watery bushes. After time, tho clouds
Withdrew from above them and great
winds came from concealment and went
sweeping and swirling among the trees
Night also came very near and menaced
the wanderers with darkness. The little
man had determination in his legs. He
scrambled among the tfickets and made
desperate attempts to find path or
road. AS he climbed hi1lock he espied
small clearing upon which sat desc
1ation and a venetable'house, wept over
by wind waved pines.
'Ho," he cried, 'shere's house."
His companions struggled painfully
after him as he fought the thickets be-
tween him and the 'cabin. At their ap-
proach the wind frenziedly opposed
them and skieled madly in the trees.
The little man boldly confronted the
weird glancss from the crannies Of the
cabin and raped on the door. A score
Of timbers answered with groans, and
within something fell to the floor with q
clang.
"Ho," said the littleman. He stepped
back few PAGES.
Somebody in distant part started
and walked across the floor toward the
door with an otninous step. A slate col
ored man appeared. he was dressed in
ragged shirt and trousers, the latter
stuffed into Ills boots. Large tears were
falling from his eyes.
"Hew d. do, my friend?" said the little
man affably.
"My Of uncle, Jim Crocker, he's sick
ter DEATH" replied the slate colored per-
son.
"Hor' said the little man. sis that sor'
The labter's clothing chung desperately
to him and water sogged in his boots.
He stood patiently on one foot for a
time.
"Cau you put us up here until tomor-
rowf' he asked finally.
eyes," said the slate colored man.
The party passed into a little un-
washed room, inhabited by stove, q
stairway, few precarious chairs and a
misshapen table.
''Fll fry yer some polk and make yer
some Coffee" said the slate colored man
to bis guests.
"Go ahead, old boy" cried the little
man cheerfully from where he sat on
the table smoking his pipe and dangling
his legs.
my oil uncle, Jim Crocker, he's sick
ter death" said the slate colored man.
''Think he'll der asked the pudgy
man gently.
.sNog
ssNo?"
"He won't die! He's an Of man, but
he won't die yiti The black dorg hain't
been around yiti'
'sThe black dog?' said the little man
feebly. He struggled with himself for
q moment.
whats the black dogT he asked at
last.
"He's sperrit, A" said the slate colored
man in voice Of somber hue.
"Oh, he ISL WellT'
''He ha'nts these parts, he does, an
when people are goin to die he comes
and sets and bowls"
sHo!" said the little man. He looked
out of the window and saw night max
ing million shadows.
The little man moved his legs nerv-
ously.
81 don't believe in these things" said
he, addressing the slate colored man,
who was scufiing with side of pork.
"Wot thingss' came incoherently frem
the combatant.
"Oh, these 'er' phantoms and ghosts
and what not. All rot, say"
"That's because you have merely a
stomach and no SOUL" grunted the pudgy
man.
"Ho, old pudgkinsr' replied the little
man. His back curved with passion. A
tempest Of wrath was in tho pudgy
mans eye. The final epithet used by
the little man was a carefully studied
insult, always brought forth at crisis.
They quarreled.
"All right, pudgkins; bring on your
phantom" cried the little man in con-
clusion.
Ills stout companions wrath was too
huge fox words. The little man smiled
triumphantly. He had staked his OPP
ponents reputation.
The visitors sat silent. The slate col