The star. (Reynoldsville, Pa.) 1892-1946, 1895-07-31
SCRAP"
by MATT GRIM.

ucclhle, its plulu ulBut uuu oehD
ain't here yet. do wonder what's
keopin' him. He's mighty nigh al
ways home fore this time when he
goes to Atlanty, on he took early
start yesterday. 1t can't be that he's
had any trouble a-sellin' that cotton.
No, it was as fine as anybody need
ask for"
"rhere' he's comm! hear him
scolding old Whiteface. 1 don't know
why that creetur can't work peaceably
in the yoke"
She left the door open while she
hustled cheerfully around, spreading
the cloth and slicing the bacon. The
frying-pan was over the fire when
Seaborn Heath unyoked the oxen at
the front gate and gave them their
feed.
"Humph, Jane, that smells good"
he declared, MS he stopped to scrape
iiS lctb Ol tuc
81 lowed you'd be hungry"
"That l am. HOWE you been get
tin on?"
"Oh, putty we'll. Miss Abemathy
came over and stayed all night with
me. Why don't you come in an shet
the door, Seab? I'd think you'd be
tired as well as hungry, an it amt
warm as it might be outside"
"Tis gettin' winterish, that is fact.
| fetched some company home with
me, jane" finally stepping into the
room.
Mrs. Heath had just taken the fry
ing pan from the fire to turn the rash
ers of bacon. She wheeled quickly
with it in her hand.
Comply, Seab? For goodness
sake, who is it
"Here it is, and he drew little
colored boy into the room, then re-
treated, leaving the child standing
alone in the full glow of the freight.
He was forlorn object, his ashy skin
dry and withered, his face as full of
wrinkles as an old mans. His clothes
hung upon him a mass of rags; bat
tered old straw hat, probably picked
out of ash heap, covered his head.
His bare legs were as thin as sticks,
and appeared all the more pitable
from the size of the rusty old shoes
upon his feet. Mrs. Heath sat down
with the pan of smoking meat still in
her hand.
"Well, / never! Where did you
find that creetur, an whatever per-
sessed you to bring it home with
you?"
"rll tell you just how it happened,
Jane. I didn't finish sellin' that cot
ton till this mornin', but 1 made a
right good bargain. AS was walkin'
along the street afterwards, feelin' so
proud that all my debts was paid an
l had some money in my pocket, this
little feller piped up an lowed:
Mister, won't you have a shine?"
81 looked at him, and 1 lowed that
I would, seein' that he 'peared to be a
sight poorer than me. l asked him
where he'd got his breakfast, an he
lowed that he hadn't got any at all.
Then 1 asked him where he lived, an
he lowed that he jest slept around
anywhere he could, that he didn't
have no homo. An Jane, he was
workin' away at them shoes o mine
till they shone like a lookin' glass. Z"
He paused and glanced at his big
shoes half pleased, half ashamed.
"Potlicker's always ben good enough
for me to put on 'em, but 1 didn't
grudge that dime. no i didn't. An
Jane, begun to think O. our own lit
tie Matthew an what might become o.
him if he'd lived an we'd died, an
the more 1 thought the sorrier felt
for this pore little chap, for if he is
black, he's human bein', an oughter
have somebody to take keer o. him"
''But don't think You need to be
comparin' your own child to little
negro, Seab," his wife remarked, wip-
ing her eyes on corner of her apron,
as she rose to put the meat back over
the fire.
He's a human bein, MS ] said, Jane,
an lowed I'd fetch him out home
with me to sorter be comp'ny for you
an help you bout the house when ]
amt at home.
! "You do beat oil. Seab; you GER