The Opelousas courier., 1895-08-10

M R1 H1oNASN pAS OAhoAAS
~4 Loafer, W h s
NEx&S seated on the steps
Of the stone porch in
the little town in a backwoods section
of Pennsylvania, gazing vacantly down
the road.
jest thinkin',' replied the Miller,
closing his knife and placing it in his
pocket. Then he leaned back against
the window and repeated: Huh!
Thinkin'w
''Thet's unusual" grumbled the
Loafer.
The storekeeper was sitting on a
crate of eggs, which was awaiting the
arrival of the stage for shipment. He
leaned toward the occupant OF the
bench and asked: "Now, what is anus
in you?"
II was jest thinkin' about how Bill
Pumpledink was reformed" replied the
other. grinning. "Him as seen the
time he'd a-give his farm fer a drink OF
hard cider. Amt you never heard
about it?'
81 know he used to do a power of
drinkin'," said the Loafer, AN ohet
now he's allus goin' ter church an
bush meetin', but 1 never heard how ct
come"
Don't you ever tell I told you, fer l
wouldn't hev it git out fer a farm" be-
gan the Miller. "Pumpledink, he's a
friend of mine, an 1t was him as told
me. with the assistance of his boy
Barnabas. Bills mind Is jest a leetle
hazy on the subject, but the pints he's
mixed on Barnabas an good common
sense reasonin' hes supplied. 1t hap
pened jest this time last year an"
SIN the ides Of june" ventpred the
School-Teacher, who was on his Way to
the parsonage, but had stopped at the
store for a little gossip.
Eyes, in June; the hides of June"
continued the Miller. bill Pumple-
dink has a place over in the gut. You
UNI knows how to git there. You folly
the road tibet crosses the mountains
through Smiths gap tell you come to
Larker's sawmill; there you switch off
to the right, keeping along the gut
between the ridge and the mountain
fer half a mile, and you come to his
pl&NCs "A AOAVAy 0HVN WV "OOAo oAA
round exceptin' a few 1el's as hes more
stones an soil on EN-.
II know his place WE'LL" interposed
the Loafer. II used to pass. it on the
way fshin'. A lawg house an a slab
barn in the middle of a few acres of
clesrin'. Lonely? Sightsr"
"Pumpledink used to belong to our
lodge of the Knights of the Maltese
Star, an was regular at the meetin's
up In West Eden. Sam Miller had a
license in them days, an as soon as the
meetin' was over Bill Pumpledink
made right fer the hotel, an how he
ever got home at all afterward I could
never wee They was three bridges fer
him ter git ~acrosst, but only once, rs I |
knows on, was he picked out of a |
creek. That was next day after our
county convention, when his son
Barnabas foun' him sleepin' in the
wotter, jest on the edge OF tibet deep
sucker hole, where the road crosses
Windy creek.
THE first meetin' in June was the
last one Pumpledink ever tended. He
went to the hotel thet night As usual,
and ut twelve o'clock he began to pick
his way home. How he ever got over
them three miles ] don't know, nor be
doesn't himself. He reached the clear
in MI right and then set down on a
stump ut the side Of the road. 1t was
. clear night. They was a half moon
overhead, shinin' down quiet-like
through the trees; a little breeze wal
the leaves. He felt kind Of
an creepy like an got up to
70, aimin' toward the house out in the
He sails he must hev ben
wa1kin' about five minutes, but when
he set down to rest, there he was on
the same stump, and he was plumb
He SGT . minute, an then
tried 1t again, but it wasn't no use, fer
he sails no matter how fer he walked
u seemed like thet stump kept right
along side fer him to set on.
THAT riled him like, an he picked
up . stone an tossed 1t acrosst the road
Jest TO case of his feelin's. He didn't