The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1893-10-13
THAT PICKET FENCE.
How Samuel Cierk's Mother Final
" Got It Built

It was warm May morning, and the
sun beat down with ardent suggestions
/ OF summer on the gray head or Samuel
Clark as he bent, laboriously, painting
his new picket fence. The picl1ets
slowly assumed dark red color under
the tren bling motion Of his witiered
hands As a fence, It was beautiful.
straight and even. cutting the green
sward beyond into narrow paraliclo-
grams. The dark red was rest to the
eve in all that wilderness of greeI,.
Samuel Clark pausea from time to time
| and looked at it, sighed, and shook his
head. 1t was plain that he worked un-
der protest
"'Tain't no use" he nuEnbled.
'sMight jest as well have built this
fence years ago." He rubbed the paint
| in with vicious vigor. partly 70 relieve
his feelings, and partly for the economy
of the paint. ''If a Ean can't run his
own farm, he might as well be dead
or a woman-a heap sight better be a
woman. There AMT no way but their
way. / ought to have guv up long
ago"
His knowledge of women was not
wide, but deep-deep and varied One
small woman, in her short eighty
| years, had held for him all the myster-
| les Of her sex. She had died ere time
had exhausted her infinite variety, and
! he, plodding away in the hot sun, felt
her coercive presence very near. He
took off his hat and wiped his fore
head. His face wore harassed, badg-
cred look. Then, just to be sure that
she still slept peacefully, that she was
not listening to his complaining on the
| sly, he turned and sent a furtive
glance down the straight row OF apple
| trees to where the orchard ended in a
tangle. Beyond, a gentle knoll brought
the village graveyard into sight. There
stood her headstone. tall and white,
| just as she had planned it years before.
Samuel had looked at it approvingly
after she was laid to rest, and declared
it "a mighty pretty stone-so sort of
peaceful" Yet now, not three weeks
later, as he eyed it itfurtively, there was
no approval in his glance. Tho SUD-
hight was shining warm upon it, and
Pickering shadow leaves We're caress-
ing the grave. Oddly enough, it looked
to his dimmed eyes like herself, with
her cid shawl pinned around her head,
all bleached to dazzling whiteness.
"She needn't be a-peekin','' he mum
bled; 'I'n a-buiidin' of it!'' He turned
again to the fence. working more slow
ly, for he was weary; more steadily,
for he was watched
When had he not been watched?
From the day his young stepnother
vowed to do her duty to Little Sam
uel," the sense of being taken care of
had weighed upon him.
He was a queer combination Of au-
thority and servility, obstinacy and DO
cility. Samuel is all right" his step
mother was wont to say, 'if you come
up on his deef side" For Samuel had
a ''deef side" and it was on that side
that his servility and docility dcvel-
oped themselves. Authority and OBJ
stinacy had been born in him. He had
not been born deaf, but it came to him
when he was quite young, with its
meek attendant handmaids 1t had
made him shy with strangers, halting
in his speech, slow in his thought. And
Mary Clark, born to protect and rule,
put her motherly arms around him, aud
protected and ruled him ever after:
while Samuel, born to rule and to be
served, chafed against her authority,
but his dumb lips could not voice his
protesting thoughts. 1t took him so
long to frame and utter them that they
were drowned ere half finished in tor
rent of exclamations. among which was
always the one he never had chance
to answer: "Well, Samuel, what are
you driving at, anyway?' He wished
with it One sweet and daring pan
to run away-had frightened the
monotony of his existence, but the
great world Of silence had always beat
en- him back. Against his viii he had
grown into the habit of turning his
eyes to her for interpretations when
ever anyone spoke, for she had culti-
waited peculiar, distinct enunciation,
which he could understand with COM !
parative ease. What would he do when !
she was not near? This did not make (
him grateful. however. He must use
her. and his silent rebellions were more |
fierce in consequence.
They were both old when Samuels |
father died and left twothirds of his /
small property to Samuel and the
other third to her. She was not averse /
to this arrangement She was willing
that Samuel should have everything, if /
only she might manage it for him. She |
was anxious to labor, to slave for him.
All she asked for herself was to be
followed, to be obeyed implicitly-for
the followers own good And 10. the
day after his fathers funeral, Samuel.
the grave, the silent, began to assert
hiu.Self-and that with long-latent
He had long ago learned
from his father that man is divineiy
constituted to be obeyed and served
Even his mother. that wonderful, cspa-
ble woman, had obeyed her husband
Samuel commenced the new regime
By taking his fathers place al the head
of the table before she tod him to- He
also put two spoon falls of sugar in his
tea. instead OF one, as was his custom,
and absolutely refused TO eat bread
with his sauce. Moreover, he met her
look oe astonishmcnt with q defiant
grunt, and his little gray eyes gieane d
in way that showed he had made up
his mind He would be bass ID his own
house. he took sauce twice.
Mary Clark felt the foundations sink
ing beneath her feet She, too. had
been counting on season OF freedom
she scrsped some butter from the