Crittenden press. [volume] (Marion, Ky.) 1879-1907, 1901-10-24

lie wanted to pay his benefactor for
the machine, but could only get him
to accept a tanned wildcat skin. Then
this angel entertained unawares got
into his blackboard and his team rap
idly carried him out of sight.
But Hanks case was different now.
At night he could wind up his little
photograph, and music and song and
oratory and laughter filled his shack
through the medium of the tin horn.
There was one record that he used
more thanany other and swathed more
tenderly in its protecting cotton, and
as time went on there were evenings
when this particular record was the
only one that he used. 1t started off
with a storm of handclapping. Then
the music of a single violin in a prelude,
and a woman's voice, strong and sweet
and clear, sang:
"Round my Indiana homestead wave the
In the distance loom the woodlands clear
and cool;
Oftentimes my thoughts revert to scenes
of childhood
Where | first received my lessons-na-
lures school"
Hank tried to imagine what she
would look like, and presently identi-
fled her with colored Autograph of a
girl feeding chickens, that had come
TO him with a months supply of plug
tobacco blue-eyed, flaXen-haired
maiden with round, white arms and
a preternaturally graceful form. And
so the singer grew very real to him,
and he thought about her as he watched
his flock and ever the refrain of the
song rang in his ears:
1.-The moon shines bright tonight upon the
Wabash,
From the fields there comes the scent of
new mown hay,
Through the sycamores the candle light is
cleaning
On the banks Of the Wabash, far away"
"Well, you don't seem to have suf-
fered none" said Bill Williams, when
he drove up to the camp two months
later. Fat and happy, by Jinks. And
1 wuz expectin' to need Jesus here to
haul you back into FL Paso. Reckon
you don't need no relief"
II sure do" said Hank. Jesus kin
tumble out an take hold, an I'll pack
my warSack an go back with you. l
may be all right, but / amt goin' to
take no chances until after I've taken
in the town fer awhile"
So the Mexican took hold" and
Hank went back to Ell Paso with his
phOnograph and drew his wages.
The second night of his relaxation
he and his friend William were at
tracted by the lights and the show bills
at the door of theater. They went in.
1t was about the usual programme
juggling, dancing, singing, dialogue
all the rest of it, and the two men en-
joyed it with the abandon of children.
But suddenly Bill was aware that Hank
was gazing with far more than ordi-
nary interest on a girl who had just
come on the stage-a blue-eyed and
extremely golden-haired young wom-
an. He nudged his friend and received
in return jolt in the side from Hanks
elbow that for the moment robbed him
of breath; for violin was playing the
prelude to THE Banks of the Wabas h,"
and the next moment the girl sang in
a clear, sweet voice.
Round my Indiana homestead wave the
cornfield
In the distance loom the woodland clear
and cool;
Oftentimes my thoughts revert to scenes
OF childhood.
Where I first received my lessons-na-
lures school.
1t was the voice of the photograph.
where you going?" asked William.
THE show amt over yet. Sit down."
I'm goin' ter see that GAL" said
Hank, determinedly. "You kin wait or
not, jest as you darn please" He
worked his way with some difficulty
behind and presently was confronted
with Miss Mae St. Clair.
"Well?" said the singer, not unkind-
ly, for Hank was well-looking man
and he showed something of the trepi-
dation he felt, though he had been
bluff and peremptory enough with the
men who had barred his way. "You
want me"
That's what" replied Hank, simply.
"What is it?"
II jest told you. 1 want you. Take
a good look at me, an see eff you think
I'll do. I'm stranger to you, but you
hain't ter me. You've ben with me
IN my shack, singin' ter me for two
months stiddy. I'd like the best kind
ter have you with me fer all Their rest
of the time there is"
Miss st. Clair looked al him for mo-
ment in amazement and then burst in
to a fit of laughter. "You must be
crazy" she said.
NO." said Hank, 81 hain't crazy,
nuther. You saved me from that. I'll
tell you" And he told her, with rude
that moved her strangely.
81 knowed when seen you an heard
you tonight that wuzn't mistaken"
he concluded. 81 knowed that Their
breath of Their new-mown hay come
to you right there, an you seen the
moon shinin' on Their ripples in ther
water an hankered after Their OF home
stead. You hain't satisfied ter paint
up your face this-a-way an sing ter
mob of whisky-soaking loafers-are