Shepherdstown register. [volume] (Shepherdstown, Va. [W. Va.]) 1849-1955, 1897-07-15
ED'ARD.

she said. 81 don t know how we're 60
ing to get along with him-I don't, for
the life of me She looked tragic,
weighed two hundred pounds, and
when gloom took possession Of her it
was a serious matter.
Mr.. Brush gave an uneasy chuckle.
He was plowing for winter wheat, but
he had come in for a drink Of milk, and
sat down. Out by the smoke-house
Edgar sat sprawled out, eating a large
slice of bread and butter spread with
warm apple-sauce.
whats the matter with him, Ma p
said Mr.. Brush. The Brushes had
never had any children, but to each
other they were Ma and Pa. "I've
seen worse looking children" Mr..
Brush asserted.
"Where ?" his wife demanded, and
he grinned feebly.
"T'other day he persisted, 81 was
looking at him, and-and seemed as
though he looked real kind o'pretty.
Mrs. Brush laughed shortly. Then
she fell to serious speech. "It's not
his looks" she said. II don't care
anything about that; I'm not over
burdened with beauty myself. It's
him. Oh, dear me" she hurst out,
shaken out of her customary calmness.
I'm most afraid we made an awful
mistake taking him p
"Pshaw Pshaw !" said Mr.. Brush.
Slow CONSERVATION sat upon him. "l
guess we did" "He's not like us, Pa
he isn't one of us. l don't know how
to take him, nor how to talk to him,
either. He's been here a month and
| haven't spoken natural word to
him nor he to me. feel as if he was
standing off from us and looking us
through and through with those eyes
of his. | don't know how to explain
it, Just, but I'm kind Of afraid Of him.
Mr.. Brush essayed a response which
did not come. The truth is, he too
was much afraid of Ed'ard.
"If that was all, Mrs. Brush went
on, "why, I could stand it, I hope I've
got some principle. But I've tried to
see some promising sign in him, and |
can't
Mr.. Brush regarded her. "You
aren't thinking of sending him back
Ma, are you?" he said. "What are
we going to do?' said Mrs Brush,
desperately. "If it was matter Of
duty-if we do him any good by keep
ing him-but l don't feel as if We
could do him any good by keeping
him. l declare l don't, Pa. We can't
influence him. We can't get at him.
l declare, feel as though sooner than
we'd make him good he'd be likely to
make us bad as he is.
Mrs. Brush made a solemn pause,
and then went on: 1--WE took him
thinking he'd be a pleasure and COM
fort to us, and he's not been. I've
thought it over. cant make it seem
best to keep him. And should think
you'd see it in the same light, Pa.
She was a faithful adherent to her
duty. She had upright principles and
a motherly heart. But she had like
wise the keen Judgment of a practical
mind, and capacity for decisive ac-
ton where action was needed. Her
husband, less acute, more given to tenn
porizing, deferred to her in matters IN
his own province-matters OF crops
and cattle-and never regretted 1t.
He lowered his chin into his hands
in the speechlessness of his helpless
condition, and cast sombre eyes on the
pleasant back-door view. The grass
was taking on its first yellow tlnge,
their motley leaves lay in broad circles
around the trees, the far blue hills
were lost against the blue sky. Ed'ard,
munching on the sunny side of the
smoke-house, seemed to Mr.. Brush s
troubled gaze to be the one blot on the
fair and peaceful landscape.
Ed'ard, when he had finished his
butter bread, settled back against the
sun.warmed bricks in stolid content
ment, with his hands deep in the pock-
cts of his trousers.
Mrs. Brush had made these trous-
ers. Ed'ard had come to her in disrep-
utable ragged garments. She had
never made any boys clothes, and she
had patterned Ed'ard's after the fash
ions of so years ago.
Ed'ard sat staring at the brightness
of the day. His state of mind was
such that. possessing it, another boy
would have run, yelled and whistled.