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

! smiled. he had never larry Iearheu
how. His lips had ever sort Of grim
sobriety.
What were his sensations? They
teemed within him, they uplifted his
heart in joyfulness and caused him lit
orally to blink his eyes with the stress
of SO great repression.
He looked wildly around at the green
sweep of the backyard, at the kitchen
windows, full of flowers in broken dish
es, the red pump, ard the clothesline
and the great black soap-kettle slung
over the ashes of yesterdays fire. 1t
was hard for him to believe that he
lived here, and that he was going to
90 on living here. Itwas too stipend
ous and glad and proud thing for his
comprehension.
But some things he realized very
keenly, that he was clean, that he had
all he wanted to eat, and that what he
ate was good-how good And he
slept every night in room with no
dirt in it anywhere, and with two win
dows through which fresh air blew,
and with white, clean, cool sheets on
the bed.
Nobody had spoken to him harshly,
nor whipped nor cufed him once since
he had been here, and the two middle
aged faces, which had been wholly
strange to him but a little time ago,
seemed to him the most beautiful he
had ever seen, because they were the
kindest.
They called him Edard. Nobody
had ever called him anything but Ted
before.
He saw Lawrence Henderson, who
lived next door, looking at him with
suspicious speculation over the top of
the fence. He and Lawrence had not
made much progress toward an ac-
quaintance Lawrence regarded him
as curiosity of a doubtful and alarm
ing order-an object to be examined
from a safe distance.
Lawrence dropped behind the pal
ings as suddenly as he had appeared
and Ed'ard sauntered off. He went
through the barnyard and down TIE
lane, and crawled under the fence IN
to the pasture on the brow of the hill
where the mushrooms sprung in white
clumps, and where in the early morn
ing dew lay thick and white.
All the COWS were off in the woods,
and one small calf had the pasture to
itself 1t cast a timorous look at Ed
'arl from its dull brown eyes, and sid
ed off as fast as its clumsy legs would
carry it.
Its uncouth antics struck Ed'ard hu-
morously, and he chuckled. He made
tilt at the calf and it plunged into
the corner of the fence. Ed ard fol-
lowed. The unwonted spirit of sport
possessed him. He flung up his arms
and squealed. The calf beloved, and
loped off in terror. It's stiff tail whip
ped the air, and its legs sprawled in
way that delighted Ed'ard's soul. The
twain tore round and round the field.
Ed'ard's wide mouth spread wider
his face grew red with the violence Of
his exertions, and damp. But the
calf was exhausted and dazed.
1t staggered, stumbled against the
fence with full force and crashed
through the time-rotted boards, and
rolled headlong down the steep hill.
Edard started after it, painting. He
saw where the little animal had lodged
against great stone near the bottom
of the hill. 1t lay still, and made no
movement.
Hurriedly he got himself down to
the spot. The calf lay with his head
twisted back. It's neck was broken.
1t was warm, and its limbs twitched,
but it was dead. Ed'ard, kneeling
beside it, felt it all over with his two
small trembling hands.
The calf was dead and he had killed
it! A cold terror struck his heart. He
was stiff with fright. Never in his
life, though it had been full of way
ward deceit and perverslty, had ne
done so fearful a thing. Yet he had
been whipped many time, and some-
times cruelty. What would happen
to him now? What?
He forgot that he had known moth
ing but kindness here; forgot that he
had not once been beaten or rallied at
or threatened. The atmosphere of
goodness and mildness and justice had
quiyered through all his being, and
warmed his starved soul but he for
got it now. The traditions of his hard
life were strong upon him. He was
sick with fear.