The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1894-08-12
The STORY OF A
WAIF AND STRAY.
From the Westminster Budget,


Move on! We don't want sundowners
here. Go to the pub"
! "A sundowner" is a tramp who roves
| about the country from station to station
| begging food, but never doing any work
that he can avoid. Whatever distance he
may have travelled, he always manages to
/ time his arrival at station at shutdown,
when the hands are coming into their huts
| for tea. He shambles over to the huts, APP
| parently footsore and lame, and is al
ways sure of a meal, a shakedown and a
! breakfast in the morning, and generally
! a piece of mutton and a big slice of
! damper to carry him to the next sta
ton.
| The words were harshly uttered by a
! slatternly woman, standing at the door of
poor cottage on the outskirt of the set
| Element.
She stood with arms akimbo, regarding
the tramp with a look of angry sCorn
| She had not lost all traces of Comeliness,
f-6u6 now her face was -ndTd and -ctrreWorn
Her mouth was tightly drawn at the cor
ners and her great dark eyes were rest
less, dilatiug and vicious. Her face and
neck and bare, muscular arms were
DLpuLGu ny LuG sun. kDGG wore d
lu-htLlng gown, and white SunbOnnet
! covered her head. She had the face and
air of woman who had known much
sorrow and suffering
A man rode up and checked his horse at
the garden gate.
oh, MIR. Hicks" said the woman,
have you seen my Sally? / sent her
! away an hour ago to bring in the COWS
and she hasn't come back
! NNN0 Mrs Wilkins I haven't aUoe
on her. I've come from away yonder,
near Picton. My word, the roads are
| Just awful up to the girths in water, and
some of the bridges are carried away.
| Going to have more rain, too Good af-
! ternooni"
He plunged the spurs into his horses
| tanks and galloped away toward tile
| town.
The tramp had fingered irresolutely,
| gazing with a wistful look toward the
| cottage.
"Mel, didn't tell you to clear" said
| the woman. Toe nothing for you here
I It's as much as l can do to get enough to
eat for myself. Vamose, or I'll set the
He turned aside without a word, gazed
! for moment across the long treeless
! valley, covered with patches of coarse
/ tussocks, noted the gray watery mist
creeping down the distant hills. and with
an audible sigh, went on his way
! He was pitiable looking creature His
! tall figure was bent, his face wan and
| pale, his eyes bleared his beard matted
! and griZzled and his long hair. almost
| hidden heneatn the dropping brim of a
1 greasy "billycock' hat, unkempt A blue
Jumper pair of moleskin trousers,
/ and rusty bluchers, through which his
/ stockingless toes pTotruded, made up the
attire of a colonial tramp, He carried
all his lordly belongings in a ''swag" or
| rolled blanket, in the form of a huge
/ horse collar worn over his left shoulder
and across his chest and back, after the
fashion of a rtfleman's cartridge belt
AS he shambled away from the cottage,
/ dragging his feet painfully as though
they were lead, the woman continued to
watch him with look of suspicion
Another of those drunken, loalng
! tramps,n she muttered. Il fancy I've
seen him hanging round here before"
She shaded her eyes with her hands,
and scanned the own-tussocked plain
Feeling the patter of a few drops OF rain
/ she shifted her hands to her mouth fun
nel-wise, and uttered loud and prolonged
! "Coo-eai"
The man paused for an instant and
/ glanced back, but he knew the call was
not for him. There was no answering
/ cry. The woman repeated the signal
! ana the echoes died away in the distance,
! and only the dull roar and wrangie of the
/ flooded river was heard
Won't give it her, that's all, when !
/ get hold of the little hussy," growIed the
| woman, as she went in out of the shower
MRS. Wilkins was one of the numerous
class Of grass widows who abound
among the uomadic population of the
/ colonies. Her husband, a confirmed
| drunkard after dissipating their little
! property, had gone away years ago, and
/ had never since been heard Of The wife
| lived on the proceeds of the milk and but
| ter derived from few cows, and the sale
| of eggs She was sturdy, industrious
woman, and though her domestic troubles
! ana her constant struggle with poverty
/ had spoiled her temper, Mother Will
klns was generally respected by her
/ neigh bors.
| Down in the little town Of Blenheim
/ the people were stricken with the dread
/ OF Impending disaster There had been
/ heavy rain for several days, and now.
/ after a few hours of treacherous sun
| shine, the sky had again become dark and
/ threatening. The unpayed streets and
! toOtpaths were covered with a thick LAYER
of gluey mud The last storm had over
| flowed the cutters and cast up banks of
| yellow sludge at the very doors of the
stores and dwelling houses. The general
aspect of the town was dreary and melan-
choly. Many Of the country roads were
lmpassable, tae farmers We're cut off from
their market, business was at a stand.
sim. The people killed time with specu-
lations on the weather and discussing the
reports that had come In from the out
districts. Groups Of idlers sat on the
counters and played euchre or Yankee
Grab for drinks.
Blenheim was a squatter's town No
surveyor in his sane sense would have Sc
le. ted such a site as that for "A settlempnt
II lay in the hollow Of a valley. i'm the