St. Tammany farmer. [volume] (Covington, La.) 1874-current, 1901-12-07
The Lady or
| the Gospel ~
by GEORGE BEARDsLEY.
Copyrighted BY Daily Story Pub. Co.,
TsHERE is . girl I could love-I'll

'HERE is girl could love-I'll
bet could. And I'll bet !
never saw another girl in all my life
that I really could love, though I've
thought I've have many a time y
1t was Silver T. Sly, the young
gambler-bachelor editor OF the Platte
vile News, who silently formulated
the foregoing propositions. He sat
In church, in the back row. The girl,
with a blue ribbon tied exquisitely
round her throat, was at the little or
gan playing "Onward, Christian Sol
diers."
''These meetings." said the fat
preacher, twill continue for two
weeks, God willing, and we have great
hopes that many of you who have
como tonight as strangers and our
guests will be moved to come again
and again, and that before the end Of
the series you will come as one with
~. We hope this crystalline Febru-
ary weather will continue, that we
may make hay for the Lord and His
Gospel, that the spirit of the COM
munity may experis,=r :. new birth,
and that righteouszs may run down
our streets. We W. sing Onward,
Christian Soldiers e3d those who do
not care to remain for the after serv-
ice may pass out during the singing"
The little editor fingered, his eyes
upon the organist, until the final
verse. Then he heard his name whis-
pered from behind:
"Sly, come along to Fps"
It was Doc Gray's voice, and the
editor slipped out Of the pew and
Joined his pals.
"What'd you think of the preach
er, Sliver?" asked one. The new ed
itor was so short and slight that the
boys had transposed two letters in
his name and dubbed him Silver.
"The preacher?'' echoed the editor,
absently. Truth to tell, he had not
followed two consecutive sentences
Of the exhortation. He made an
equivoca1 answer:
'Must have been good" said he;
seemed awfully short"
Short Why we thought he'd de-
cided to preach the week out at q
sittin'. It's one o'clock"
Silver Sly was desperate to find out
the name of the little organist and
III about her. But he thought not
for an instant of asking that crowd.
He felt an Impulse to slip away from
them, and started Of, declaring he
had some writing to do. They knew
that was improbable; he had never
before hesitated to join their Sunday
game in the three weeks since he
came to Platteville.
sWhat's the i matter with you,
Sliver?" cried one, fmpatiently.
"Don't pike on the procession, old
man." said Doc, the EDITORS best
friend.
Sly reluctantly yielded. All that
glorious afternoon and nearly all
that moonlight night the five young
fellows sat round the table at
Epanetries, with hats drawn down
over tense, inscrutable faces, playing
poker.
Monday evening they all went to
the revival meeting again. Don't im-
agine they went to SCOT; they went
quietly and respectfully, to be enter
tanned. The hymn singing, the light
and warmth, tho faces, interested
them as much as they did the deacon
and the Sunday school superintend-
ent.
/ Just % line of young men had
fled into ! pew near the door bevy
of young women. passed up the aisle,
and one Of them wore blue ribbon
It her throat.
.sBess looks sweet as ever" said
one Of the fellows.
Sly, the editor, heard, and drew q
suick breath. He had heard "Bess
SWING spoken of from time to time,
iust as he had heard Of half dozen
sth.r girls. But he only knew one
s. two Of them by sight. he regard
"a himself rather blase on the girl
subiect, and had not been able to
take any interest in the Plattevillc
rosebuds, yho Ill seemed quite too
uoune for h;s0. This evening, when
a heard that remark: "Bess looks
.wcet as ever" something told kim
+ Was the organist wha vN vsfsred J