Spirit of Jefferson. [volume] (Charles Town, Va. [W. Va.]) 1844-1948, 1893-02-28
LED BY FATE.

The train from Dundas stopped in the
midst of the open country while a gem
tleman with a small gripsack a1ighted,
Go directly across the field over the
hill yonder and you will strike the Dun-
das highway" said the conductor, hasti-
ily. in reply to the gentlemanas inquiry.
The gentleman addressed stood for
awhile watching the receding train and
then set out as directed. He reached a
narrow dusty road and turned west
ward, casting his eyes over the country
as he walked.
No rain had fallen for weeks and the
dust lay in deep drifts along the high
way and the withered grass by the side
of the road had taken ON pale, siclly
hue. From time to time an eddying
gust of wind carried clouds of powdered
earth across the fields and into the faces
+ of the passers by.
The same desolate region, only grown
worse with age, muttered the stranger
!" 1t was an insane impulse that prompted
me to leave my desk and seek this God
forsaken country. must have been led
ON by fate.
With manifest discomfort written upon
his grave features, he pursued his rumi-
nations Finally he halted and hesitated
whether he had not better retrace his
steps and signal the next train to Dun
das.
For some time he stood evidently alb
sorbed in bitter recollections.
There is the old tree from which
Uncle Zeke tore many switch to beat
me- he muttered, land it has grown
large and thrifty. There is the old house
where spent an unhappy childhood.
The fields where drove the oxen still lie
waiting for the plough and 1 wonder
what slave now holds the handles for
the old tyrant. have returned to the
home of my boyhood, yet feel no senn-
ments but those of bitterness. Uncle
Zeke must be either dead or broken with
age by this time, but owe him nothing.
The scars wear on my shoulders make
me almost hate him even now. Yeti
have come here"
He sat down by the roadside and
pressed his head between his hands and
mused. And as he mused there rose
before him one kind face, the only face
that ever inspired his boyish mind with
reverence. 1t was the face of young
girl. Uncle Zeke's bound girl Mile. 1t
was she who used to sympathize with
him in his affection; it was she who
used to caress his smarting wounds and
procure healing ointments, and now as
he sat, the face of this poor girl, moro
friendIess in her youth than himself,
seemed to smile upon him as of yore.
Her voice resounded again in his ears
chiding him for his bitter resentment
and urging him to forgive his uncle g
harshness.
After he became a prosperous man in
great city he sometimes wished that he
might learn of her whereabouts, and, IL
necessary. render her pecuniary assist
ance, but the letters which he wrote and
stamped were always on second thought
torn up and the project postponed lndefi-
nitely..
So the years ran by, and he forgot his
good intentions altogether; but this hot
summers day, against his inclinations,
with feelings of revulsion at his sur
roundings, ,-he sits and gazes across the
fields which many years before his weary
feet had trodden.
Even the thought that Mile might
still reside in the old farm house did not
lead him to rise and hurry forward. On
the other hand, he was about to turn
back toward the railroad when the sud-
den shrek of locomotive and flying
train more than half mile distant told
him that his delay had decided other
wise. Again he muttered: al must
have been led by fate.
He rose and pursued his way until he
came in front of an old dingy farmhouse
which stood back q little distance from
AI
houses in the rear looked bare and for.
saken. He pushed open the rickety gate
and followed the wagon track to the side
entrance of the house.
AS he was about to knock upon the
door he caught the loud complaining
voice of an old man. There was no mis-
taking those hoarse. rasping tones
{" Then Uncle zeke Is still alive, " thought
the stranger. as he dropped his suspended
knuclsles against the warped panels Of
the door and waited for an answer. But
no answer came. Again he knocked,
but there was no response. Well,
Uncle Zeke, guess you have not grown
sociable with age, muttered the gentle
man, as, with a look of determination
on his face, he dealt the door vigorous
blow.
This time savage voice growled
Come inf' and he pushed open the
door. In the middle of the room sat the
bent form of an old man about as de-
crepit and broken In appearance as the
incidentals of his environments.
The old man raised his head, from
which the hair hung in white snarls over
his ears, and darted fierce look from q
pair of bloodshot eyes upon his visitor.
Uncle Zeke, I guess you have for
gotten me, said the stranger,
The old man tottered to his feet.
am no uncle Of yours, you puppyi Who
are you7'
The gentleman flushed angrily.
al am sorry to confess the relation.
ship, ] am sure. said he, but ms
name is Adolph GrifHs. .
The old mans eyes biazed more fright
fully than ever and he shook from head
to foot.
Soye ran away because I whaled ye
when ye deserved It, did YET Right In th,
busy season. too, and lot of has
got spoilt. Oh. ye scoundrel I've no
forgotten yes and if ye only undel
me agi'n I'd whale ye within an inch o
| yer life. Ye comes back now with ye
fine clothes and yer pocket as empty q
an old boot; but yen have bad time
! here No, :" he roaredi zen neye