The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1899-03-19

the tracks Well, that was all right
enough, an then"
"Thatll do! Enough of that! I won't
hear it from your lips"
AN them
stop man! say stop, in the name of
what little regard for decency you've got
left! / won't hear from you! 1 didn't
| come out her to listen TO your boastn' an
| plumin' yourself about your reckless,
| senseless goin' on"
The deacon's bloOdless lips trembfed as
he fairly Numbered the command, and
| shook his clenched f1st in unbridled wrath.
Il won't have it made any worse by your
| goin' into all the details of what you did, "
he went on hotly. u wanted you to listen
to reason, an 1 wanted to talk to you like
brother. But there amt any reason left
| in you. It's gone too far, an Martha an
| I'm too late. You're proud of that
broader life you talk about, are you? All
right, then; now listen to what I've got to
| say. The ways still open for you TO turn
over a new leaf an come back an be one of
| us as you was before the Lowdens and
their tavern came to Quaker Church. It's
got to be one or the other an you've got
| to decide right now. Either you quit this
| new, broader life that you've been harpin
on or you must get along without Martha
an me from this day forardT
The deacon pronounced the sentence in
| excited. impassioned tones. The ways
open. which do you take?' he repeated,
| wiping away the beads of cold sweat that
| stood out upon his brow.
Joels flushed face turned pale at the dea-
| cons words. They cut him like a sharp
| knife and his brother knew it. But quick
! ly the scornful look returned, and he met
the issue squarely half way. Without a
tremor, he STEPPED close to his brother, and,
placing his hand gently on the others
shoulder, exclaimed William, William, If
| it was the last thing on EARTH didn't ex-
pect this of you If it was anybody else,
I'd a said he'd gone clean crazy. You an
mother never did circulate much around
| among the neighbors, but never once had
an idea either of you had anything against
| Miss Cook. can't understand it. Her
| husband S been dead for three years now.
an durin' that whole time she's hardly
been outside her dooryard. It's goin' to
be hard to tell her that this is our we'd
din present from you an Martha, but 1
can do 1t, an 1 will. One thing has got
| to be settled between you an me, how
| somever'-here Joels words became delb-
crate and foneboding-"I amt goin' to
| stand up an listen to anybody thrown mis-
| cradle slurs on the woman that's goin to
| be my wife-not even you, my own brother,
| an a deacon in the church. who ought to
| ne ABOVE SuCu d ln4AlS. want you ~
understand that if the Lowden boys did
build their tavern across from her house,
| she amt responsible nor the worse for it!
| An as far as that place is concerned, l
hate it worse than you do. It's hurt her
| property scand lous!'
Wedding bells often ring out in unex-
| pected places. Their notes are the sweet
er when they Sound above the din of
| discord. In vain the deacon, perpleXed
and confused, his excited mind in a whirl,
tried to interrupt Joe.s words. Then he
gave up the attempt and grasped weak
| Iy at the objects near him for support. He
| could only gasp Miss Cook-you mar
ry Miss Cook-the widow Cook at the
! rossin'-I-you-"
We've been thinkin it over ever since
the day the circus was in town. An last
night we fixed it all up an decided to
| hitch"
Lord save us an! Joel, l." 1t was
too much for the deacon and his strength
deserted him. His knees bent beneath his
weight and his voice dropped to an in
audible whisper He leaned upon the
sleigh and rubbed his eyes as if to bring
| back his scattered senses. Then he sud
| denly found his voice again. rs that
the meanin' of it all? Is that where you We
| been goin' evenin after evenin when
mother an me thought you was at the
| 1fONu6DSs say SOHleNHln man. Are you
struck clean dumb?'
The scornful look had left Joeps face
and the suggestion of a triumphant smile
! Played around the corners of his mouth as
he watched the successive stages of his
| brothers collapse. But malice was not a
part of Joel Birdsell's makeup. He an
swered the deacons question with ques-
ton; You amt forgot, William" he
| asked seriously, ''the day you an me
| ste ha ME hac IN vol
I've kept my share of it TO this day. But
1 never signed pledge not to get mar
| red"
but you didn't tell us"
II didn't have nothin for sure to tell
till last night. You know how courtin
is William. man don't like to speak
right out
Once again the deacon swallowed some
thing that seemed to choke his words
God bless you BOTH" he said, and his
voice trembled as he spoke. Then he add
ed quickly: Perhaps youll forget the
hard things I said You see"
ITS just the same as II you hadn't
ever spoke en-" Joel interrupted. AN
now perhaps there's time yet to go over
TO the creamery. Supposin' you tell Mar
tina about il while I'm gone"
The quavering notes of a song awaken
ed the deacon from a deep brown study. as
| he stood alone in the middle of the store
room floor Listening, he caught the words
Until they were lost in the rattle of the
wagon wheels
Bet my money on the old bay mare,
Somebody bet on the gray.
The deacon did not stir until the sound
had died away in the distance. Then he
left the barn and slowly walked up the
peth to the farm house As he reached
the porch he hesitated a moment. "Durn
my fool picture" he said 20 himself. 81
might have knowed III But it's a good
joke on mother anyhow"
Then he entered the kitchen, closing the
door behind him
louis Vincent DeFoe.