National Baptist world., 1894-09-28
MANDY'S TRIUMPH.
After Many Years It Was Hers
for a Moment.

it WsS a summer afternoon. Th,
rich, red gold Of the sunshine wa
broken only by few futtering leaf
shadows as light breeze stirred tht
trees. mocking-bird overhead riot
ed and reveled in showers of ecstat ii,
song. It was day when life seemed
90 burn and tingle everywhere.
Except at the little cabin near the
spring. There was no sound, no sigr
OF any occupant until the sun was low
and the long shadows almost touched
the doorstep with pointing fingers. Al
last woman entered hurriedlv, push.
ing off her sun bonnet, and showing a
pretty, coquettish face, flushed with
excitement and ready to break into
smiles. She began to get supper,
klnldling the fire with fat pine kno.s
that blazed quickly. AS she brought
cat the incvitable frying-pan Of the
south she sang short snatches of song.
often breaking off abruptly and glanc-
ing over her shoulder at the open door.
Suddenly she uttered little cry. In
the shadow Of the doorway stood a
mana dark, rugged fgure-with a
child asleep in his arms When he
saw she had noticed him he walked in
and laid the child softly on a low
couch, then sat down by the rouo h
pine table He did not once look at
her or speak
She had held out her arms to the
child, but seeing him SO sound asleep.
went back to her cooking.
Presently she looked at her husband
and said timidly, but in probitiatory
tone:
'Yore late tonight, Nathan"
He gave her so harsh a look that
she drew back as if afraid, and bent
over the child to see if he had
awakened.
Presently she looked again toward
her husband, as if she fancied she had
misunderstood him and said:
"Yo' seem out O. sorts, Nathan. Did
the child poster yo' while yo' wur
workin'? Yo'd better leave him with
me mex time
he laughed sneeringly. "Yo' wanted
him, didn't yo'?" He paused moment
and went on as if with difficulty.
II was plowin' on the ridge, an |
seen yo' an that feller tergether
amt no need ter say mo-"
why, Nathanr' voice was
raised little, as if with excitement.
He broke in roughly
stop. Don't tell no lie. | seen yo'
BOTH an thet man'd been dead, but I
amt kearin' ter tell the neighborhood.
Henceforward yo' amt no wife of
mine"
Il don't suppose yo'9ver keared fur
me, anyhow. Yo'lever said vo' loved
me since the day we was married"
There was half passionate ring in
her childish voice
''Ther' warpt no call fur me to say
anything. Iwus 70 husband
She began again eagerly, this time
returning to his accusation. "-Yo' don't
understan', Nathan
n He, stopped her, her whole face work
ing convulsively. Il do understan'
well enuf, an don't want no lies
Her face changed its pink to white,
its soft contours hardening into
curious rigidity. She made no at
little shawl down that hung on a nail,
and spread it over the child's bare
feet. He was pretty boy Of four and |
his long dark lashes lay without a
culver against his rosy cheeks She
caught her breath quickly, but she
made no appeal. Her sunbonnct had |
fallen on the floor-a sign pregnant
with tragedy in this rude life-she |
picked it up, and moved toward the
door as her husband repeated huskilv:
''Yo' amt no wife o. mine.n
Out Of doors it was very dark. The /
cabin stood in the clearing. and close
around were the woods, black, full of |
strange sounds. full of moving shadows
cast by one knew not what. Inside.
the circle Of light thrown BY the pine
knots, and the child's soft breathing
promised safety at least. For one sec
ond she stood, irresolute, on the thres-
hold. Her lips were set, but her mem
Dry cenjured up distorted images,
'ha'nts'' and wolves, or ''painters, p
which was it cried like child?
. The man spoke sternly: 'Yo' seem
Ter forgit the baby and yo' duty ter
aim. Ifyo' amt my wife, yo can't un-
10 bein' his mother
Mandy's head dropped, the bonnet
ell from her hand, and she turned
'ack to the hearth.
Was it rescue? Was she guilty?
she did not utter another word Prirni-
i've natures are like children; the
pring of confidence once broken it is
to restore it. Question. re-
roach, accusation, elicit nothing;
henceforth they are dumb.
The man who had told her good-bv
vas gone. The uneventful mountain
Ife closed over him as still water over {
stone. He was a confederate soldier
nth q wounded leg, who had asked s
helter until he was able to rejoin his S
egiment Mandy knew nothing more c
him except that he was young like /
erself, and ready to jest, and the t
abin for the first time was lively. t
ut Nathan had quickly disliled him. g
Mandy felt as if life had closed over e
er also. Nathan did not speak to her,
or in anywise notice her She fan a
ed herself like ghost, un- il
zen, unheard, by the living-except b
hen the child was with her. Before h
lis he had run after his father all day D