Wheeling register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1878-1935, 1900-11-12
THE DEBORAH OF LOST CREEK
BY Julia Truitt Bishop.

Ben caDln was at the upper end o.
Lost Creek valley; a log cabin with
a gallery in front The peg in the wall
under the gallery held the miscel-
laneous assortment of Ben's personal
property; saddles with frayed and knot
ted ropes for girths, pillow lines, trace
chains, names, horse collars, with oc-
casional punches OF seed corn held to-
gether by plated strips of husk. Be-
meath these articles, as beneath
grove, sat Ben's grandmother, Aunt
Ilsy, who kept sharp lookout up ana
down the road.
No one could pass the house without
seeing Aunt Ilsy, and every one who
saw her stopped for a moment to lax
de time O. day." Most of the white
people in the valley had been Aunt
Ilsys folks" in the old days. They
were either Robinsons or "kinfolks' of
the Robinsons; and it was Aunt llsy's
pride that she was pensioner OF de
ole Robson family" and that they Wis
tied her and kept her supplied with
food and clothing, all that she could
possibly need
Much obleeged, Miss Lie she
would always say to the pretty lady
who drove around once month with
/ the supply of provisions and the new
garments. Much obleeged to you and
Mas John bofe. Mas John sholy is
folledin' in his Mas footsteps. Ole Mis-
had her failin's, but dey couldn't no
body tromp on ole Ilsey's toes WHILST
ole Mis- was 'roun'; an Mas Johns
do al nj
what his ma did
But to-day Aunt Ilsy's face was trou-
bled, for disturbing rumors had been
going up and down the valley; and she
| waited eagerly for the coming of some
one who could bring her news. The
some one came at last; an old negro,
who paused with his hand on the for
lorn and dropping gate.
How do, Slst' Ilsy; how are We feel
| in dis mawnin'?" he asked.
"Jes' $3.50, much obleeged," was the
response, How're ye feelin' yeself,
! Martini"
"Oh, jes' $685." he replied with
| mournful JUNCTION. "Is still able to
trot along by jerks
What de news down de road?' was
the next tentative question.
Num- much, replied Martin, brim-
ming with news so that he stuffed his
corn-cob pipe full of 'home-riz'" tobac-
co and then tried to light it with his
riding switch instead Of match, so
| great was his perturbation. Muffin
| .cept dey tells me dat de whole crea-
TONS done gone slaunchways up at
| Mas Jcnns. Dat engineer man, he
sho is sot on Miss Liza, and Mas
| John, he sho is likewise an etarnally
| sot dat he shan't hab 'er; an he say
| dat onless dey draps dat foolishness he's
! gwinter git his shotgun an blow dat
man inter kingdom come. Dat mex
| Miss Liza mad, h 1t did, an dat gal
| Nancy, what's been cookin' dere, she
say dat Miss Liza riz up from de table
| dis mawnin when ner Pa was car'in'
| on lax mad, an she tell i'm dat she
| gwinter marry de man she LAX, in spite
| O. all de shot-guns in de kentry. An
| den, Nancy, she say dat Miss Liza walk
outen de dinin' room wild er haid up,
| an Mas John amt done muffin sence
| but set on de frunt gal'ry iookin lax
de ole Nick, till dey amt nobody kin
| go nigh i'm. When Mas John git to
| lookin' lax dat, hit mighty good time
| to keep outen de way
And having gone thus far with his
| disclosures, Martin emptied the un-
| smoked tobacco from his pipe and
| went his way.
Babe, tell you nanny to han me
my stick" called the old woman; and
in a few minutes Aunt Ilsy, who had
| not walked beyond the limits OF the
| yard in yetrs, was toiling down the
| lane, followed by the amazed stares of
! the younger generation. Never since
| his marriage had she dared to think,
| even, OF taking issue with Mas John,
| but at last the time had come. The
| happiness Of Miss Liza was at stake
! pretty little Liza, the youngest of the
| babies that had been laid in her arms
! to be cuddled and petted: her little
| one, her baby, the child THAT had been
given tosher care when the mother died
| and whom she loved for herself as well
as for the dead mother. With heart
that beat high with resolve the little
bent old negress went down the val
ley and into the big gate, and along
| the oak avenue
| Mas John sat in the gallery in a
large arm chair, his elbow on the arm
/ of the chair and his chin in his palm.
There was dangerous glitter in Mas
Johns eyes. but notwithstanding this
Aunt Ilsy climbed the steps and sat
| down with her back against one OF the
| fiuted columns.
How do, Mas John?" she asked
cheerily. How ye indin' yourself dis
( mawnin'?"
The man stirred impatiently. but
made no other reply. IS though he
| had spoken at great length. however.
Aunt Ilsy went on affably:
1T sho Is long time sence I been
here before. 4 never does see desesher
steps widout thinkin' o. de time when
| larned you to creep down EN- wild
out goin' down kaId foremos. You
was powerful sot in your WAYS. Mas
John, chen when you was a baby; an
you jes pun boun' you was a goin'
down haid foremos. You taken arter
ole Mis-, Mas John
There was another silence into which
Aunt Ilsy glided gaily.
eHit don appear lax TO me hit was
| more'n yistidday when you was a
| leetle mite Of a chap, foreyer'n etar-
nally gittin' into some meanness an
keepin' me an your Ma in hot water.
You recommended how you USE to 20
| trottin' 'roun wild dat big white dawg,
| a ~ bnfo ~ rrss Uferfpy sr~n All So \. a