Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1894-10-03

to a chair and declining the implied invi
tation.
Old man Bangs sat down and refreshed
himself with pull at the bottle.
"It's a nice sort of night at the Four
Corners" he said cheerfully. II guess,
If the river keeps on risin, old Hutchinson
will be drowned out afore mo rnin."
"Mebbe," said Jake
"There' s a sort Of yarn, when the rivers
that HIGH" said old man Bangs, lighting
a pipe, there's SORT Of yarn when the
river rises suddenly it carries away soul
with the mornin light. But I reckon you
mont take no stock in such dunn foolish
dess?''
Reckon I do" said Jake, still speak
ing without sign of resentment "Reck-
on do. That's why I've come down"
'Jusso," said old man Ban gs, putting
away with undiminished composure.
| .'Jusso. What's up, Jake?"
Jake carefully laid his revolver on the
table. Old man Bangs realized that his
visitor meant business and had him at a
disadvantage.
Some folks at the Four Corners allow
ez this yere paper Of yourn amt high
toned, said Jake carelessly. You don't
put on frills enough"
OlO man bdll2S lOokcu lOuglH5i ou lLlo
table drawer Guess could put more
tone into the conversation if I'd the usual
seat" he said significantly and went ON
smoking.
"Mebbe, said Jake, "mebbe." He laid
the papers he had brought with him on
the table Some of tho folks at tho Cor
ners was wishful of little native talent
| in this one boss paper of yourn. They al
/ ,,,ahI,n nrtpr fnEa moro stock
| in poetry and native produce, such ez strad
| die bugs and chipmunks ard things
"All the fools at Corners amt dead
| yet" said old man Bangs savagely.
"Mebbe," said Jake II lowed ez they
was wrong Yer don't give old man
| Bangs chance, SEE to 'em. He's well
meaniD, is old man Bangs but yer don't
| give him chance. Now, if was to sort
| or drop in on him permiskuslike and ask
| him to give native talent a show, seq,
| why, old man Bangs would be right
| thar So they lowed I'd better try"
Old man Bangs, with studied compo-
| sure, stretched out his hands and took up
! the papers on the table. He recognized
| note in his own spidery writing, which
Jake had pinned on the top.
Il kinder told EN-" said Jake speak
| ing with slow insistence, II kinder told
| 'cm ez I'd only to take old man Bangs
| down some native produce and he'd rear
| up on end and print it straight off.
Old man Bangs rose without o word,
| walked to the composing case and rapidly
| began to ''set up the verses which Jake
had brought his fingers flying with all
| the precision of machinery. After half an
| hours hard work he screwed up tho type
| in FORM" took 'pull' and brought
| it to Jake, who laboriously spelled through
| the words, still keeping one hand on his
! revolver and criticising the spelling with
l sublime disregard for conventional meth
| DDS.
| "Will that dor" growlcd old man Bangs,
| with sullen resentment at his enforced Ia
Dor.
| Jake gazed admiringly at the poem SO
| rapidly called into being. 'Sorter pretty,
| amt it2 I'll tell the folks at the Corners
| you amt no SLOUGH when you get chance
| at native produce" he added admirngly.
Ho tucked tho printed paper carefully
away into his vest pocket and sprang for
| the door Old man Bangs rushed for his
revolver in the drawer of the distant table,
and, with dexterity acquired by long
| practice, took flying shot at Jake as he
disappeared, then blew out the light and
/ WllUtu lOT TcI)TlSilS, Duu IoIio I'ihO.
The brown mare scented her master as
he crawled slowly through tho darkness
| and hauled himself with difficulty into the
saddle Gently, Winny. gently" he said.
Guess you'd better crawl sorter keerful
Old mans planted bullet in my arm.
| He alters shoots straight when he's blind
| drunk
The marc walked with her burden as it
swayed from side to side. Something
| warm ran down her flank and made her
start For three hours she paced slowly
| along the narrow PATH hating every now
| and then when her rider chung to the sad
| die and groaned, for he was faint from loss
of blood The wind fell as suddenly as it
had risen. Through the straight trunks
of the pines the swollen river glimmered
here and there with faint streaks of light.
A rift in the sullen sky betollened the
coming dawn. With careful steps the
marc plodded onward, hating now and
again to look round at her master, who
motioncd her on with o feeble wave of his
hand.
When they reached the clearing, Jake
slid out of the saddle and crawled into
the hut, leaving his mare standing at the
door. Selling a whisky BOTTLE he drank
long and eagerly, then propped himself up
on his stool by the boys bunk and tight
ened his sash. Its sorter lucky that old
coon missed the papers, " he muttercd and
waited. I'm all right now my arms
stopped blecdin."
Presently ray Of sunlight stole into
the hut and the shadows fled away before
the cheerful singing of the birds.
The boy awoke, with a glad little cry.
"Jake, where arc you? Jake, I've had
such dream"
Something white glistened on the rude
blanket.
"Ja- Why, snakes alive, Jake, how
did this come here?''
He fell to reading the verses with de-
lirious enjoyment. A soft pink flush came
into his cheek.
why, Jake, they're printed! Song to
Chipmunk, by our gifted fellow towns
man, the Shelley of Muskrat Swampn"
A fit of coughing interrupted him. Jake,
leaning back so that the boy could not see
his face, lied with tranquil indifference:
"Oh, old man Bangs come up after
you'd dropped OFF,
Eyes, Jake, yes?"
"Ho printed 'em and brought 'om over