Republican news item. [volume] (Laport, Pa.) 1896-19??, 1899-10-26
BROTHER TO NECESSITY.
BY HELEN HICKS.

it does mighty little good," he
drawled. "This new man Crawford
that's just bought the old Garrison
place has got potato patch over there,
and his bugs believes in reciprocity.
Line fences is no obstruction to them
fellers." Doesn't Crawford believe
in paris green?" he asked. 'No, nor
in hoein', neither, guess"
Alec laughed. 'Mr. Crawford
doesn't seem to be thriving farmer"
"Well now, Mr.. McPerson," Henry
said, briskly, as if entering on topic
that interested him, "Mr. Crawford.
he thinks himself gentleman, but he
don't own that farm no more nor l do.
The company owns it what holds
mortgage on it, and he's really just
workin' it for them. His crop amt
his'n; it's got to go to pay the interest,
and some says his horses and cattle
and implements is all chatteled for
moren't they're worth"
'That's a liel' Both looked up.
The man they were discussing had
risen from beneath clump of elder
bushes and was leaning over the fence
with battle in his eyes. He was lank
and cadaverous, with thin, goats
beard, protuberant blue eyes, and
wiry yellow hair. The man was plain
ly not in robust health, and he had
the look of having reached that point
in his cups when amiability is swal-
lowed up in growing desire to be
quarrelsome. "Well, maybe it is, Mr..
Crawford" Henry said, soothingly.
"Maybe it is." "And they say you're
regular gentleman" Crawford re-
marked, turning to Alec and looking
him up and down with scornful
amusement. ga regular gentleman
that never had his nose to the grind
stone and keeps money in the bank
all the time. Is that so?" moo,
guess is isn't So" Alec answered,
mildly. With surprising quickness
the man got over the fence that sepa-
rated them. "And you don't think
I'm thrivin' farmer, eh?" he queried,
thrusting forward his white, impudent,
face. ''Take that young upstart!"
And suddenly raising the switch in
his hand he laid it smartly across
Alec's face. The next instant he had
fallen forward with his face in the
grass, and his thin hands grasping
convulsively before him. They turned
him over, but though the muscles of
his face moved, his heart was quite
still.
The two men looked at each other
in CONSERVATION. "This is hard on
Lyddy," Henry said at last with
great sigh, pointing TO the PROSTATE
form. Hes a widower, and Lyddy
keeps things together, and there's two
little uns." They carried the dead
man up to his house, where little
Blanche Mary was helping Lyddy get
dinner, and Tony, the six year old,
stood washing himself with legs set
very wide apart at big basin on the
outside stoop. They were all thin.
elfn creatures with bright hair and
radiant eyes of corn flower blue.
"Well," said Mrs. Mcpherson,
when the funeral was over, "Lyddy
Crawford's got hard row to hoe.
She'd like to stay on the farm; it's
like home to her now, and they've got
to have roof over their heads some
where" But the mortgage" Alec
objected. ''They can pay the inter
est, and that's enough just now. And
she's going to make real, old-fashioned
preserves out of wild raspberries and
huckleberrries and long blackberries,
and sell them on Buxton market. Oh,
she may get quite trade!"
Alec was pleased. Gradually it be.
came his chief interest to watch
Lyddy's undertaking. Sometimes he
met her in the woods with the children,
gathering berries, Tony trailing long,
dead branch as a protection against
bears. He never saw Lyddy now
without sharp sense of the beauty
Of her hair, her small woman's figure,
her brown, small hands. 1t seemed
to him that she embodied all sweet,
country things-light and breezy days
and the fragrance of little underfoot
flowers. As for Lyddy, at night, at
bedtime, she wrapped thin, black
shawl about her head and shoulders,
and slipped out of the house and down
the hill to the bridge, to see if the
lights were still burning in Alec's
windows. She did it every night, and
it had assumed for her the sacredness
of rite.
When fall came, Alec was better.
He was less thin, his hand had firm
grasp, his skin was healthy brown,
his eye was steady. He had almost
forgotten his languid days and sleep
less nights in the buoyant pleasure
of rising up early in the autumn dawn
to feel himself the director of all the
activities of the farm.
1t was at supper one night that his
mother spoke to him. 'Alec, you
have been at home close on eight
months now," she said, and waited
for an answer. EYES," he said, brief
ly. ''And your health is ever so much
better than you ever thought it would
be again. You're almost as we'll as
you ever were. Isn't that SOP"
Yes" he said again. when are