The Beaver herald. [volume] (Beaver, O.T. [Okla.]) 1895-1923, 1899-01-19

'hS puN 'hdA udgs IL was 80 COlu, anO Oiu
Charlie was so slow; but she saw that
Aunt Tempy had guessed her thought
and was intriguing against il. DO you
think you can hold him 2" she asked.
Aunt Tempy drew down the corners
OF her mouth so that they might not
twitch even when her mistress was not
looking. "Mebbe kin, IL give my feet
good brace agin de dashboard" she
said, but you-alld be mighty helpless
If he was onct to take de bit in his teef
an go tearin' off into de woods"
1T would be dreadful" little Miss de-
clared, opening her eyes and laughing;
"but IL old Charlie ever runs away and
kills me, have it marked on my grave
| stone, please, that died happy. Go
along and harness him. want danger
| and excitement. / want to feel as IL
the snails were after me full gallop!"
Aunt Tempy chuckled softly. DE
pends IL ken catch him." she said,
starting for the door. ITS a mighty
| hahd mattah to catch fresky hawse."
She was still chuckling when she
| went downstairs. She felt that little
Miss was an innocent child, who was
| easily circumvented. II she could only
manage old Charlie as easily, and make
him show a little of the youthful fire
she had claimed for him, she would
keep little Miss out driving for hours
along some sheltered pine-woods road
where the sun would beat down and
draw spicy, resinous odors from every
leaf of underground or twig of pine;
| and little Miss would lie back breathing
deep with JOY until gracious memory
of pink would steal into her cheeks. But
if Charles head dropped and his knees
were stiff, she knew how il would be;
they would turn back almost before
they started, and little Miss would look
pallid and weary, and would say to-
morrow that driving tired her too
much. Aunt Tempy's mood changed,
and she was angry at Charlie in ad-
| vance. "0nfeelin' ole beastl" she NUT
tered. 81 don't nevah drap my haid an
| go creepin' roun' de house like brok-
en-winged fly. l jes' let's on dat gifts
CANT sca'sely hole mysef down ter
| walk"
Nevertheless, she stirred up a hot
bran mash and went outside, calling:
Coop! coop! Coop, Chawlie! Coop!
C-o-o-p!"
The old horse heard, and, as if in
spired to please her, pricked up his ears
and came charging toward the house
at a sort of stiff-kneed, headlong gal
lop. Aunt Tempy set down the bran
bucket and patted her hands together
in delight. Didn't l tell you how he
was cavortin"" she cried, as if still ad-
dressing little Miss. Suddenly her
hands dropped apart. The old horse
had stumbled over furrow and had
fallen. For moment Aunt Tempy
stood half-paralyzed with dread, yet
hoping to see him scramble to his feet.
He struggled moment and then rolled
over on his side, giving a shrill cry of
pain.
The tears sprang into Aunt Tempy's
eyes and rolled down her cheeks as she
ran to him. He did not seem to her n
shirking servant now. He was her old
comrade in the care of little Miss. The
blood was gushing from deep wound
in his breast where dry, beheaded sap
ling had pierced him as he fell. She
tore great piece from her skirt, and
pressed it into the wound, and knelt
beside the old horse, holding ii in place
and sobbing. He looked at her as if
he knew that she was trying to help
him, but kept giving long, sharp groans
that tore their way into her heart.
"Po' Chawlie! good Chawlie!" she
gasped between her sobs. "Po' Chaw-
lie, good Chawlie, l CANT do muffin mo-
fGw you, case If don't hole dis whar
! got it you gwine to bleed ter def. Po'
Chawlie, l wisht somebody'd come by
dat could holler to! l wisht could
git de doctah faw you. / nevah see
such lonesome spot wheah nobody
come at de right time! An you, de
hes old hawse dat evah lived, you
was jes' a-cavortin' to please me, and
now you have to lie hyah wild on'y one
miserable ole niggah to kyah faw
you" She broke into fresh sobbing,
and her eyes were blurred with tears.
For the first time since the day when
little Miss fell out of old Homer" Aunt
Tempy forgot that she was in the
house.
Little Miss had heard the cry and had
lain on her pillows with horror settling
upon her like a physical weight, until
she could scarcely breathe. She rang
her bell, and rang it again and again,
but Aunt Tempy did not come. The
anguish of the cry would not leave her
ears. The silence after it was suffocat-
ing She pictured Aunt Tempy lying
dead outside, in the direction of the
cry, and sometimes she fancied a soft
step approaching her door as if the
same mysterious means of death were
coming close TO her. She lay with
hands clenched and with wide-open
eyes fixed on the door. Whatever might
be coming, she did not feel afraid; she
only wished that il might come quick
ly, because then perhaps she would
know what had happened in the yard.
And then her sharpened senses caught
the sound of groaning. She clasped her
hands, first in thankfulness and then
in the htterest despair. Aunt Tempy
was not dead; but they might lie there
for days, Aunt Tempy in the yard and
she in the house, and not soul would
know that anything was wrong.