Crawford avalanche. (Grayling, Mich.) 1879-19??, 1896-06-04
BYER'S FOLLY.

What did We say yer name wa'?"
We stood outside the wire fence,
George and l, and looked at the old
man who leaned on his plow surveying
us, while the two shaggy horses at
tached to 1t languidly hung their heads
as IL intending furtive nap.
I'm Charline Boyd: this is George,
my little brother. We've come all the
way from Kansas City. We're your own
grandchildren. Mothers dead. Father
sent us here; he's gone to Arizona TO
work in NINE"
He looked dazed.
"Clarrissy dead, n you her children
Wal, 1t do beat all! An you SIGH big
gal, an him her livin' pictur, an l not
KNOWN she wa gone. Come in, dears
the gates beyant, but We kin crawl un-
der the wires. There! Nom femme
look at yer. Laws, child! don't try to
kiss me; my face amt none too clean"
He was pleasant-faced, blue-eyed
old man, with long, curling white hair
His teeth were gone, but otherwise he
seemed unlike old men, for he was
straight and tall, his arms brawny and
strong. His clothing was neat, but
neglected-looking, the buttons hanging,
with little tears widening into large
rents. l was only fourteen, but mother
had taught me to do grown woman's
work; beside, George was five, and
such baby made me feel older.
where's grandma 2" asked.
For answer he pointed his thumb at a
mound away at the end of the level
field, where rude wooden cross was
planted.
"She's thar She went a year ago.
I've lived alone sence, an it's the bless
in Of Providence you children is come
Oftentimes I've feared l might grow
desprat outer sheer lonesomeness m
sorrer. Maybe you didn't know't, but
Clarrissy m mother quarrelled in years
gone, m never got frenzy, witch was be-
cause yer ma married yer pa, witch
seemed to me a good man huff; but
,Wimmen Is queer, N mother looked
high for Clarrissy."
II SO hungryv' cried poor little
George, his lips quivering and his
round eyes filling with tears.
"Bless his little hearth said grand
father, recovering himself and patting
my cheek softly. Here you be, Jest off
long journey, m Inc a-keepin' yer in
the cold, an meanderin' ON as If thar
want no today, but all yesterdays.
How did yer Gomez he asked, unhar-
Messing the horses.
by rail to D.; then a gentleman
gave us ride here in his fine carriage.
We came in the train with his daugh-
ter, Miss Bessie Little. He owns a big
ranch near here"
"a fine young lady," broke in grand
father. "She was like a darter to yer
granma, an though she lived miles
away, she was over night an day A.
gallopin' cross the plains on a black
horse as is thoroughbred, an fine
specimen of horse1esh as is seen in
these parts. She kin ride, too, m amt
a feared o. nothin'. Mother set sight
by her."
We were now at the house, neat lit
tie one-story cottage, containing four
rooms. A comfortable barn and yard
for the cattle were near, and well
close by the door. There was a cosy
kitchen, a sitting-room, and two bed
rooms; one the spare room," grand
father said, proud. 1t looked neat and
precise, but was as cold and damp as
the tomb. The lonely old man had
faithfully swept and busted, and kept
everything as his wife had placed it,
even her work basket, with needle
sticking In the half finished gingham
sleeve.
George and took the spare room,
and L built n fire and aired the bedding.
In few days l grew competent to
take charge Of the house, put things
where she had placed them, and cooked
the simple meals-and these were very
simple, for grandfather was poor. Two
old horses, two cows and a calf COM
prised the stock.
II don't hev no luck WI poultry, Char
ley" he said. He called me Charley,
for CharlIne was too new tangled"
and Charley was the name of his dead
son. Mother used to raise sight, but
arter she went they begun dyin', an
what didn't die was eat by cayotes."
The last day of my first week on the
ranch Miss Bessie Little rode up to the
cabin on her coal black horse. She was
n sweet-faced girl, blue-eyed and vel.
low-haircd and rode beautifully. She
made herself Mt home. petted Georgia,
and I, shy as I was, found myself con.