The free press., 1895-08-15
"SCRAP."
BY MATT GRIM.

Mrs. Heath rolled up her knitting
and went to the door. The November
air was tinged with frost and she
shivered as she leaned out listening
for sounds of travel upon the road.
81 declare, its plum night and Seab
amt here yet. do wonder what's
keepin' 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"
s'There' he's comm! I hear him
scolding old Whiteface. I 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, as he stopped to scrape
bis feet on the doorstep.
81 lowed you'd be hungry"
"That am. HOWE you been get
tin on?"
ooh, putty well. 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
hred as well as hungry, an it amt
warm rs 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
Ms 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
solored 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
put 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
apor his feet. Mrs. Heath sat down
With the pan of smoking meat still in
her hand.
"Well, l neveri Where did you
ind that creetur, an whatever per-
'essed you to bring it home with
You?"
"Pll tell you just how it happened,
Jane. I didn't finish sellin' that cot
ton till this mornin, but l made q
hight good bargain. AS was walkin'
long the street afterwards, feelin' SO
proud that all my debts was paid an
had some money in my pocket, this
nttle feller piped up an lowed:
Mister, won't you have shine?"
II looked at him, and lowed that
would, seein' that he 'peared to be
sight poorer than me. / asked him
where he'd got his breakfast, an he
lowed that he hadn't got any at all.
Then l asked him where he lived, an
10 lowed that he jest slept around
anywhere he could, that he didn't
nave no home. An Jane, he was
workin' away at them shoes O. mine
nll they shone like lookin' glass. -
20 paused and glanced at his big
shoes half pleased, half ashamed.
Potlicker's always ben good enough
i ior me to put on 'em, but 1 didn't
Brudge that dime, no l didn't. An
Jane, l begun to think O. our own lit
Tie Matthew an what might become O.
nim II he'd lived an we'd a died, an
the more thought the sorrier / felt
rthis pore little chap, for if he is
black, he's human bein', an oughter
nave somebody to take keer O. him. >"