The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1896-02-08

he took hold of her horns and shook them
called her by name, but it was to no pur-
pose. There was no response. The COW
was dead.
81 wouldn't "a bleeved it posserble fer
you to "a been took from me like this an
leave me erlone an 'thout any means o.
serport, Betty" said the old man, stoop-
ing over the cows PROSTATE body. You
wuz all | had. You wuz both my com.
p'ny an my livin', Besty. But then l
s'pose some good'll come out O. it Or
t'wouldn't "a happuned."
He Strengthened himself, turned around
and walked slowly out of the barn. AS he
was hobbling across his dooIyard on his
wooden ley a neighbor CHANGED to be pass
ing by. He stopped.
GERRY, | hear your cow is dead. y he
said
"Well, so it's" the old man re-
sponded
"That's too bad-too bad"' the neighbor
returned, sympathetically. at will be
great loss to you, won't it %
at pears that way now; but then s'pose
some good'll come come out o it some
way. But it's mighty hard to see it, since
the milk | sold wuz all had to live on.
It's erbout the hardest blow I've had since
my old woman died. tell you, | come
pretty near giving up my philoserfy then.
You see, Eve alters held strong to that
blief that some good comes out o. ev'ry-
thing that happuns; or, in flyer tive Ian
gage, ev'ry cloud has its silver linin'.
But couldn't see nuthin but the cloud
for a long time after that. But when | got
so | could reason it over, and thought how
ole Polly wuz gittin', how she suffered
from neuralgy, how her teeth waz all out
an we not able to git no more, how her
eyesight an hearin' wuz goin', an then
thought o. her bein' out O. all sech mz ry,
why, sir, saw the blessing plain enough
then"
The old man paused an instant, thrust
his wooden leg forward and continued:
''Now, like as not you wouldn't think
there wuz any bright side to a Teller
losin' his leg an havin to hobble Ground
on wooden stump like this. But there
wuz, with me. Fore that accident when
lost my leg, us't to suffer tur'bul pain
in it from rheumertism. When | lost the
leg lost the rheumertism. Can't you see
the silver linn' there? But erbout the
COW. | confess the cloud looks purity
black; an, as yet, there amt sign of a
linin' that can see. You see, | amt as
young as once WIZ. The fact is, an
nights well own it, I'm just erbout laid
on the shelf | amt good fer no kind o.
hard work. An Betty wuz all that stood
between me an the poor house. That trip
over there's been a starin' me in the face a
long time. I've put it off from year to
year, fer seems like t'would choke me to
eat dependent bread; hut, after all, Pm
afeared I'll have to go. Good evenin'."
Jerry turned abruptly and walked into
the house. quaver had come into his
voice, and he was to proud a man to let
the world see such weakness.
The neghbor, Henry Boone, a man of
middle years, watched the old man for
minute in silent pity then walked
away.
The unique originality of Jerry Duncans
character made him of peculiar interest to
his neighbors His hopeful, industrious,
independent nature commanded their sim
cere respect, which appreciation was prac
tcally evinced by generous patronage OF
the milk which was his sole dependence
for a living. The queer appreciation of
his quaint PHILOSOPHERS to the problems of
life was source of much entertainment.
He would permit no person to prefix
Mr.. to his name. He claimed that
God introduced Adam to the world as
Adam, not Mr., Adam and he wanted no
better authority on etiquet than that. So
he addressed all persons by their Christian
names, and in indulgence to his within
everybody called him Jerry. And it is in
Difference to the old mans feelings that
take the same liberty.
Jerry entered the house. took seat in
his great arm chair, where he remained for
some time in moody contemplation.
Perhaps my faith ain strong enough, I"
he reasoned to himself. "There may be
some good in Betty's death eff l only had
the penetration to see it. P'rhaps | will
see it in time. | don't know as twas in
tended for us to interpret the divine mys-
tries all to once"
The grief from great loss made him rest
less: so he got up and went back to the
barn. He had travelled back and forth
from the house to the barn all day. He
took seat on an old box by Bettys body
and stroked her stiff, white hair. AS Jerry
sat looking at his dead COW an idea flashed
through his mind that made him fairly
Jump to his feet. 1t came to him like an
inspiration. Jerry certainly accept it as
such.
"I'll do it-I'll do it!' he exclaimed.
'!I'll stuff Betty; I'll preserve her in that
way for me to look at It'll be sech q
comfort to me-"