Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1895-10-05
HIS LOAD WAS HEAVY
BY W. ]. HAMPTON.

Written Exclusively for The Evening Star.
AS I rode up out of the valley to the
west and came into the gap of the noun
tains the morning sun was flooding the
hills and dales to the east with fullness
of light which seemed to make the whole
world glad. While I sat on my horse,
drinking in the beauties OF the scene, the
music CT the birds, all about me, noun
taineer, driving a yoke of cattle to wag-
on, came slowly up the steep road through
the gap and when he had reached ME
epoke to him. He was a man of thirty five.
perhaps, powerfully built and Of better
color than the ordinary saffron complexion
Of mountaineers, and that far an improve
ment on the general run.
AS spoke he stopped his team and rest
ed his hand on the wheel, with his back
to the valley.
Good morning." said, cheerily, for the
morning made me feel that way. I've just
been looking at this fine view. and I want
to say that you people OF the mountains
have something to be thankful for, even If
big world beyond you. Just take look
behind you and see what glory of light
there is In the valley"
/ thought that might be talking over
the head of rude native, but l couldn't
help it. 1t was poetry, and I felt poetry
in the air. The mountaineer was evidently
rot impressed with it as 1 was, for he stood
with his back to the valley.
Its the valley Wv the shadder, mister,
to me-" he said with an effort, IAN don't
wanter see it no more.
His word and his manner threw a cloud
over the entire scene, and l turned to him.
"You seem to be in trouble l said, in
very different tone from that of my greet
Il reckon I am, mister. Mebbe thars
sunlight down thar. but mighty little Nv it
IL
ooh, YOU mustn't talk that way" said,
trying to cheer him up. When the world
is full Of sunshine everybody is bound to
get some Of it"
apologized but there wuz SO little Nv it
that it WIZ gone afore hardly knowed 1t
had been thar
Tell me what's the matter, and maybe
I can be of some service to you," VEN
tured and then told him who I was and
what my business was in the mountains.
Treasured by the information, he put his
foot on the hub of the wheel. rested his ell
bow across his knee and told me his little
story.
1T wuz this away mister" he said. I'VE
wuz pore enough in Tennessee, God knows,
an we thought we might do better up in
these parts. So rented a farm down thar,
on the sheers, and me and my wife and the
Children and the dog moved onto it. Thar
wuz two Children, the last Wv seven, one
four-yer-old little gal, an tother two-yar-
old boy. The mother wuz allus a sickly
sorter woman. an the boy tuck after her
and was mighty puny; but the little gal
tuck after her daddy, an wuz as peart ez
a chipmunk. 1t wuz four yer ago when we
come an it wuz dry yer, an the craps
didn't do no good a-tall. an we drug the
ground mighty clos't all that winter.
Things looked up some when the winter
broke, but It wuz too much fer my Oh wo
man, an she give 1t up in Aprile. That
left two Children fer me to take keer Nv
besides the farm, but 1 done the best
knowed how, an in the fall the boy fol-
Tered his nanny: I knowed he would
when she went, but 1 couldn't do nothin' to
stop it, an jist sot an watched him go.
The little gal WIZ comfort, though, an
her an me said ez how we'd run the farm
an git rich an she could go down to Loois-
vile to school an be fine lady some day.
II traded a shote fer some school books
an slate fer her. an every day when I
wuz plowin in the field she'd be right thar.
too, under a shade tree, lookn' over tn en-
books an tryin' to find out what the pic
tiers meant I knowed how to read, and
learned her, an it wuzn't long afore she
knowed a heap sight more'n her daddy did;
but didn't feel hurt fer that. An when
had to go away frum the farm all day, the
dog used to take keer NV her an, dern my
cats. mister and a faint smile lighted his