Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1895-02-20
And that. old man was bright ano


would never again rise up and walk.
Life, even to him, had not lost all its
joy and beauty. Upon Ida he rested for
almost all aid, for the younger sisters
were too small to render much assist
ance. Into her mind and soul he in
stilled love for the beautiful, discern
ible in so many varied forms in the
wild mountain scenery around their pic
turesque though humble home. Like
the sunfiower which grows so luxuri-
antly in this southern cline, his bed
was always wheeled around SO that he
could see the morning sunlight as it
streamed in through the door facing tho
east, aud again, when the sun went
down behind the mountain in the west,
he loved for the last rays TO fall in all
their golden glory upon his head Often
when the moon was flooding noun
tain and stream and valley with mel
low light he would asi; Ida to wheel
his bed near the open door, and then,
with her hand in his, they would look
down the beautiful valley and see the
winding streamlet, with its banks lined
with Towering ivy and laurel, looking
like ghostly sentinels keeping silent
watch over their mountain home. And
they thanked God for it all.
Captain Hall had done what he could
with his imperfect education to give Ida
some knowledge of books, as the well
thumbed volumes on the shelf testified.
While her language was rude and i'm
perfect and her information very linn
tied, yet aspirations had been kindled
which she herself scarcely knew. Her
life of toll, SO hard for one of her sex
and tender years, was sweetened by
those longings which had begun to
spring in her soul. She drew inspiration
from all the objects around her-the
grand old mountains, the thickly wood
ed forests, the cooling dove and the frisk
ing squirrel, the bubbling spring and
the running brook.
Mr. Slade had fastened his horse to
the vehicle and was ready to depart as
Ida came down to the ford of the brook,
and whistling for the OK was preparing
toreturn to her plowing on the hillside.
"Ida," be said, chow would you like
to go to school and learn
go to schoolr' she interrupted. Her
blue eyes kindled as she continued,
''Ask me if 1 like to drink out of this
spring when l am athirst, or to eat
bread and honey when I am a-hungry.
Go to school! But
''But what?''
"What's the use of talkin, mister?
Are you schoolkeeper?"
Eyes. I am teaching school across the
mountains, down in the Hiawassee val
ley. If you would like to co.
'Tain't no use to talk about it,
and her voice had ring of sadness in
it-'I can't leave pap and Old Spot.
Mr.. Slade bade goodby to the moun-
tain girl, but his mind was made up
Providence was opening the way.
The first opportunity after his retur1
home he paid visit to DR.. B;ik, =, liz
kind hearted physician who h b.
friended the Hales in their sickAcs.i ;
distress. Of his scanty means-sc;:uiy
for family of 12-he had given Liberal
ly to the stricken family. His profos-
sional services and the needed medicines
were never charged for, and under the
righteous pretense of selling the baskets
and mats made by the feeble fingers OF
the old paralytic many a dime and
quarter found their way over the noun
tain to the little cabin by the spring.
''Never have I seen mortal being
bear his sufferings more patiently than
Captain Hale He's always as cheerful
az cricket, no matter if there isn't
crumb of bread nor scrap OF meat in
the house, said DR.. Baker in explain
ing the situation Of the family to Mr.
Slade
Gas to Ida,' he added, "she's as
bright and as pretty as picture. If she
had the chance Of q good education. pro-
fessor, she would be Il queen among wO-
men. or my name is not Billy Baker, -
81 intend to give her the chance"
said Mr.. Slade, with decision.
1t was soon arranged. One of DR..
Bakers tenants was to so over and take
care of the little farm and the helpless
family, while Ida was to be taken into
Mr. Slade's school and given the best
opportunities of obtaining a finished
education Good Mrs. Baker volun.oer-
ed to fit her up with wardrobe which
would answer for present emergencies.
Ten days after his first visit Mr.. Slade
was again drinking from the gourd
which hung on the broken twig by the
side of the mountain spring.
AS Ida Game across the brook. follow
fo1l cla or
him.
"Howdy, Mr.. Slade?" she joyfully ex-
claimed. ''What you come for?"
"For you.
"For me? What for, Mr.. Slade?"
''To carry you back with me to
school,
''But can't go. 1 can't leave pap
and Old Spot and the children.
Her lips quivered, and the tears came.
eyes, you can, said Mr.. Slade, ''for
a man has come with me for the pur-
pose CT renting the farm. He will stay
and take care of Old Spot and your fa-
ther and the children. y
Hor whole face shone with joy.
ga kind friend" he continued, "has
pICF1uSu Il psAAI VI oLO0S, q III Ono "a WV
and some other things for you in that
trunk in tho wagon
''Thank God!''
"Will you go?"
"Yes, if pap is willin."
"He is not only willing, but anxious
I must tell you, however. before you
make up your mind that l am a
Yankee -
''The Lord has forgiven you for that. "
''But was soldier at Chickamar-
ga"
''The Lord will forgive you for that.
too, if he will forgive me for hatin of
you Yankees what shot and crippled
pap. I've done asked him to forgive us
all"
''Then you'll soon be ready?'
"Yes. And Mr. Slade-I can t tell it
but want to say thanky. am only
poor mountain girl, but if the good
Lord lets me 1.-Two will thank you, and
I'll work my fingers to the bone to pay
you back every cent you spend for me. "
IL all hour she had kissed her father,
her sisters-and the truth must be told
old Spot, gcodby, and was gone.