The Monmouth inquirer., 1897-02-25
THE TRAMP'S RETURN

the road. A small, we'll kept lawn sur
rounded the house and was shaded by
large trees, which seemed to watt re-
freshing GOODNESS to the travel stained
wayfarer. No one was visible, and the
stiffness, pierced only by the shrill,
metallic music of the locusts down in
the fields. seemed to oppress him He
entered the yard, and after standing ir-
resolutely few moments walked across
the lawn.
AS he rounded the corner of the house
a little terrier rushed at him, yelping
shrill defiance and calling to the door
Of the kitchen tall woman of perhaps
so years Of age. Her iron gray hair,
brushed straight back from her fore
head, was caught in a knot at the crown
Of her head and held in place by steel
comb. AT the first glance she might
have been called an angular" woman.
which expression usually conveys the
impression of an angular disposition.
but the severe plainness Of her appear
ance was relieved by her eyes. Soft gray
they were, with kind little wrinkles
around them, and they looked now at
the strange figure before her through
spectacles, with twinkle of quizzical
sympathy.
| Ouieting with sharp word the zeal
Gus dog, which was still yelping around
the tramp, she leaned against the door
post, drying her hands on coarse towel
and surveying with slight smile of
pity, shaded with contempt, the ragged
specimen of humanity who stood there
awkwardly, the battered remnant of
hat grasped in one hand and gazing at
her with look which might have in
dicated sul1enness or respect.
"Well, what dye want, my man?
reckon somethin to eat an drink'd about
suit ye, Ell? Jest ye set down on the
step there, an I'll see what can do fer
We. never could scare up much affec-
ton fer tramp somehow, but | try to
follow the Scriptural advice bout the
cup of cold water, an mebbe that was
meant to include pie, eff any was handy.
Not noticing the gesture of dissent
from the tramp she turned into the
kitchen and presently came back with
bowl of milk and an immense piece OF
dried apple pie, which she placed before
her guest, telling him to set down an
pitch i'll. !"
The wanderer, though evidently not
suffering from hunger, ate and drank
with apparent but not unrestrained en-
joyment The woman sat down on the
step above him and watched him eat
with an amused, nearsighted expression.
another thing makes me kinder feel
fer We tramps is my boy bein gone. Nigh
on to eight years now since / kissed him
goodby down by the gate yonder, an he
started off so brave an hopefull1ke.
Lord, how proud was of him, goin
away to make fortune fer his mother,
but thought my heart would burst as
I seen him disappear round the bend in
the road up there, a-wavin his hand to
me, standin lookin over the gate!"
Where did he go?" asked the tramp,
who was crouching on the step with
bent head The woman $ eyes were fixed
on the blue hills in the distance, and
she did not notice him.
"Out west. Got it into his head he cd
make pile of money out there, an
thought SO, too, cause Tom was right
letters was hopeful, too, but haven't
heerd from him now these six years.
His fathers dead, too-died three year
ago from horse kick-so I'm alone. "
Her voice grew tremulous, but she
frightened again
Sometimes, settin out there in front
Of the house after tea, doze off, kinder
dreamin, an then think can see Tom
comm up to the gate, back to his old
mother, him grown man. An when
wake up always feel cold, an have a
little cry to myself an then I'm all
right again. fer know I'll meet him
up there when -
Maybe he's not dead He might
have gone wrong, said the tramp with
out raising his head.
My Tom go wrong? Why, man, eff
my boy was alive today I'm sure he'd
be as honest an good az I am settin
here You're down in the world; but,
not KNOWN the facts, amt sayin but
what it mightnt "a been all your
fault. But eff you'd known my boy as
do you'd never believe he cd go
wrong It's all have now-my faith
in my religion an my faith in my boy
AN if anything shook either I'd rather
not live"
For several minutes they sat silent,
struggling with the thoughts that came
upon them.
Slowly the wanderer rose.
THANK you for the meal, missus.
I'm goin on. And he turned and
walked slowly toward the gate, the lit
tie terrier. unnoticed, barking at his
heels.
Passing through the gate, he latched
it carefully, and without turning his
head started up the road at his old
slouching gait, his hands thrust deep
in the pockets of his trousers, his head
bent forward, his shutting feet kicking
! up clouds of dust, which settled behind
him as he passed, as through to obliter-