Edgefield advertiser. [volume] (Edgefield, S.C.) 1836-current, 1899-11-22
BROTHER TO NECESSITY.
By HELEN HICKS,


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The company owns it what holds
mortgage Oh 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 lier' 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 cadarerous, 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
n>his cups when amiability is swell
lowed up ina growing desire to be
quarrelsome. ''Well, maybe it is, Mr..
Crawford" Henry said, soothingly.
"Maybe it is" ''And they say you're
a regular gentleman Crawford re-
marked, turning to Alec and looking
him mp and down with scornful
amusement. ga reg'lar gentleman
that never had his nose to the grind
stone. and keeps money in the bank
all the time. Is that so?" moo, I
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, ana 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. s'This is hard on
Lyddy," Henry said at last with
great sigh, pointing to the PROSTATE
form. ''He's q widower, aud 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 siy-year-old,
stood WASHING 1tnnaeif legs set
very wide apart at q big basin on the
outside stoop. They: were all thin.
elfn creatures with bright hair and
radiant eyes of corn-aower blue.
j! "Well,;" j,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 come
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 outsof wild raspberr;es and
huckleberrries and long blackberries,
and sell them en- Buxton market. Oh;
she may get quite trader "
Alec was pleased. Gradually it be-
came. his chief interest to witch
Lyddy's undertaking. Sometimes he
met her in the woods with the children,
gathering berries, Tony trailing long,
dead branch as protection against
bears. He never saw Lyddy now
without sharp sense of the beauty
of,her hair, her small woman's tignre,,
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.
It 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. 'tYes, 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 so?"
eyes," he said again. '.When are
you going back to, the law?" He
went on crulnbling his biscuit, and did
not meet her eye. 'sG am not going
back. MOTHER he. said lat last. 'I
am determined-to stay here" "This
is no place for a. young man of your
education" she expostulated.
"Thats what thought once,
mother, but everything seems differ
ent now. 7 can be.iust as useful here.
It's better to be good farmer than "a
poor lawyer" ttYou needn't be a
poor lawyer. Besides I'd rather be
that than farmer, I hate the name
of farmer.i None of my relations were
ever that. There isn't any excuse for
such low. tastes He was nettled.
'Let US take some cases we know off,.
he. said quietly. There's Walters,
the sharpest young lawyer in Buxton,
and the best pleader; he was in Jail "a.
hours for voting twice at an election.
There was Barr. who started poor and
died rich; he lost his seat in Parlia-
ment and was disqualified for open
bribery, and, there was things in his
private life far worse. No profession
is going to make mans life, honor
able. I'd rather be man like my
father, mother, than be Barr or Wal
ters." :,
He Ind tho imnnIse IN burst iutc