Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1893-05-03

III was WHcA DcA ~ hCs
and Abner Corbin, returning from an
all-night hunt. stopped at the gate OF
the Corbin place. Early as it was,
Abs wife had breakfast ready. The
odor of broiling bacon came, deli
ciously appetizing, through the cabin
door when Abe's wife opened it mo-
ment to bid Ben ''come in an have
bite of warm vittels along of Alb.
But Ben declared he must go on, and
was about to do so, when the sound OF
childish laughter made both men turn
and look where the boys, Burke and
David, were coming down the road.
holding to old Stars tail, and shouting
as they came.
I In response to their shouts the cabin
door opened again, and two tangled
tow heads appeared IN the light OF the
misty morning. Polly and Docie, their
frocks unbuttoned, their faces IN
washed, but with their tiny tin cups,
bright and clean, came bounding ont
at the first sound of old Stars coming.
Within the cabin another ear had
caught the familiar tinkle of the COW
bell, and Baby Bess turned in her
trundle-bed.
Another turn, and the bare feet
kind of swift, rlgbt-about movement,
a half pull, halt crawl, that brought
her to the cabin door, where she sat
waving her hands and calling, '"roo
Tow" as Justify as the rest.
Ben Sykes watched the little ones
gathered about the docile animal.
Burke was the real mixer. and he sat
with the piggin between his knees,
| ,f IL
safely through the tiny cups that were
thrust now and then between his hand
and the piggin, when the younger
mixers found their own efforts tritle
slow. Close to Burke's side crouched
David, ostensibly excepting off the
calf''-in reality, waiting his turn on
the miiking-stool. Polly and Docie
crouched close to old Star upon the
I than once Burke called ont, -
"GIt back ther', Polly, else yen be
tromped ter deathr' Or else, "Move
back, Docie, afore ye upset the pig
ginw
The two men at the gate watched
until one tiny cup was full, and Polly
ran to fetch 1t to the baby Growing de.
J lightedly in the cabin door.
Il
of Your air plumb pretty sight; an
ole Star air wonder fur gentleness."
| "Yes," said Alb, ''them youngsters
would find it mighty dry livin' without
the cow" And then Ben said ''good-
dav," and Abner Corbin went in to his
. breakfast, and his family grouped
about the modest table.
| A frown darkened Ben's brow as he
trudged home ward No CHEEKY well
come and happy children awaited him
at the cabin IN Bear Cove. A bit OF
broiled bacon and corn bread seasoned
with his wife's i'll temper, was the best
he could hope for.
"No wonder they-uns kin talk so
| cheerful" he muttered. "Not q chick
nor a chill missin'. No wonder granny
| finds things 'ali right alters. Wait
| till trouble comes ter they-uns, soy;
/ Jest wait till it comes"
1t came-swift and sharp and ter
rible. One of those blows before which
reason itself falls in the grasp of de.
spair.
Ben himself tottered with weakness
when a messenger went through the
cove at sunset telling the awful story
of the milksick poison that had ap-
peared, with terrible fatality, in
Granny Corbin's cabin.
1t was noon of the next day when
Ben Sykes visited the stricken house.
He could not bring himself to go SOON
er; he felt somehow as If he had ex-
pected the calamity until expectation
had become wish for it. 'But not
this" ne told himself, ooh, my God,
not all this.
He had not expected patience and
forbearance in the face of this terrible
trial; it was too much to ask of the
human heart amid such dire misfor-
tune.
The nelghbors had shrouded the dead
when Ben arrived, and made them
ready for their humble burial. David,
Polly and Docie lay Oh the little trun-
dle-bed, fast-locked, pretty, sinless
lambs, not in tie sweet sleep of rest
less childhood, but in the old, old
sleep of death-that sleep which locks
alike the lips of childhood and of age,
! and seals alike the laugh or sigh upon
the lips of grave or gay-that old, old
sleep of death.
Under the white sheet on another
bed, Bess, the baby that had crowed in
the sunshine on the cabin doorstep,
lay still and white,-a little frozen
mountain flower, poor little dead babe
by the side of grandad.
AS for him, the old man upon who's
silver temples death had lali
a gentle hand, the smile upon his fac
might have been the smile of childhoo
} come again, or, perchance, the smil
J of knowledge gratife1, when deatf
l made clear the mystery that had
, baffied science, and led the old man tC
the light through that self-same riddle
the milksIck poison.
> Burke crouched in a corner, sobbine
, beside the bed where Abner watched
, the conrse of the pOison throbbing IL
his wife's veins.
1 Granny moved from bed to bed
4 where lay the living and the dead, min
r istering to one, tenderly stroking tn
3 dead brows of the other. The blow
d had fallen heavily, mercIlessly. Nor
than once the assembled neighbor
s sought to speak their sympathy, bu
words we're choked by sobs. She, in
deed, the stricken and afflicted, wa
g the calmest of them all. 1t seemed a
e if she needed sympathy of none, no
0 asked for it. Put they understood
e those simple folk, she leaned on
stronger arm than theirs
e Once she stopped beside the be
Il where grandad lay, and lifted up tn
S sheet, and gazed down at the calm
t dead face of him who had travelled g
S her side for half a century.
o While she stood thus, fearless an
t heartbrOken, shadow fell upon tn
y doorstep. 1t was Ben, the scof1er, bu
- silent now and full of shame.
v Granny turned to him, and lifted n
her face, pale with grief, and SCARE
r full deep with age. The memory {
y his words awoke in the poor brain
e words spoken when his own heart la
4 crushed and bleeding:-
It "Wait till trouble stops at yer o1O
door, then say ez it's all right. an L
n believe ye."
J, The words came back with startlin
o meaning; her faith was in the balanc,
r She who had preached confidence mu'