The Houma courier. (Houma, La.) 1878-1939, 1897-07-24

around my share if everything comes
plum handy and ~conyehieht. But I
Mont hunger and thirst and pant for
the fruit of the vine like I use to back
there in my boyhood days. Sometimes
/ do raley wish that I could git as
hungry and eat as much, and then feel
as snug and comfortable and happy
about it as / did when 1 was nothin but
a plain and healthy human boy.
He Didn't Have the Heart.
One long and hot and sweltry sum-
mer day some six or seven years ago,
1 was maxim a trip through the coun-
try somewheres clost along about the
border line between the states of Ala
bama and Mississippi. The road was
tremendous rough and lonesome, but
along towards noon I rid by one Of the
most loveliest little valley farms 1 had
ever seen in all my born days. / was
so busy lookin at the CROWN crops
and the coy fxments around the place
till I rid right up in ten feet of a yea
lin boy before 1 knowed there was such
a human bein in all them parts. There
want anything particlar notorious
about the boys general a~ppearments.
With his homespun breeches and his
home-knit galluses on, and a wool hat
which had long since went to seed
he was a fair sample of the hundreds
and thousands of country boys who are
comm along with the risin generation
to fashion the future and shape the
destiny of this great country.
But in other ways that boywas a plu-
perfect picture of sufferin and sorrow,
and I couldn't help from slowin up
long enough to find out what was the
matter with him. He was Numbered
down in the cotton patch, jest over the
fence-in the brilin hot sun-cryin and
blubberin and goin on like his heart
would break, and sweatin forth great
drops of perspiration as big as glass
marbles. He was so busy with his
troubles he didn't see me till 1 helt in
my horse and spoke-which / never
saw him till 1 heard his sobs and signs
and moanin just over the fence.
Hello there, Busteri" says I, speak
in as bright and cheerful as 1 could.
what seems to be the matter with
you this large and lovely summer day p
he was a fair sample of the hundreds
'Hit's a plenty the matter, mis-
ter, a Gods plenty" says the boy,
as he turned around and squeezed the
back water out Of his eyes with the
knuckles of his left hand.
'Well, out with the tale of woe"
says I. Tell me your troubles, and
then if you don't see what you want
ask for it."
"You see this here cotton patch,
mister?"
Yes, 1 saw the cotton patch.
"Well the old man turned me in here
day before yistiddy mornin to chop out
this cotton. Hit was in the general or
ders that I must cut up every water
melon vine in the whole two acres, or
take a lickin for every one l left. Hit
has been worse than sheddin eye teeth
to carry out them orders, and / have
been achin all over from that minnit
till now. Down there by that old gum
stump I found one orful pritty vine.
: Hit was sorter hid out amongst the
! bushes, and consequentially 1 left
t it, thinkin maybe the old man wouldn't
: find it. But he come put here this
r mornin nosin about and pirootin
2 around, and by hokeys he found it.
5 which he didn't do a blame thing to me
hard lickin a white boy ever toted out
of these woods.
, 1--WE have got q regular watermelon
patch over there on the hill, and if the
seasons but right l reckon we will have
' dead coolies of 'em when they git ripe.
But they do grow so rank and rapid
/, down here in the bottom, and it don't
, look to me like it would hurt nothin to
, leave a few here and fling them in for
good measure.
"You can see I am not done chopin
the cotton, and here is the last and
longest and the finest watermelon vine
in the PATCH" the boy went on, be-
tween his sobs, as he pointed out a par
ticlar promisin vine. Look at the
/, blooms and young uns On it, won't
you? Hard and unreasonable amt the
! words, mister, but / have got to do one
of two things to-day-chop up that
watermelon vine OF stand and take an
other licxin. Which would you do, mis-.
ter, If you was me?"
"spit in my hands and shet my eyes
and chop it up" says 1.
"'Tain't no use in talkin', mister, ]
jest simply amt got the heart to do
that. Two lickins amt but twicst as
bad as one, though 1 know the next one
: is bound to be a shirt-scorcher. Hits
orful, orful, orful, any why you take
it. Say, mister, if you amt in too much
hurry, would you mind to dismount and
J chop it up for me? You can take my
5 hoe and do the bloody work whilst ]
look tother way"
. So, as nothin else would answer,
dismounted and got down and took the
3 hoe. The poor, unhappy boy turned his
t back and wept whilst l chopped up that
"lovely watermelon vine.'
Then as mounted and rid o N towards
the sunset hills the boy breshed the
tears away and resumed.