The Laurens advertiser. (Laurens, S.C.) 1885-1973, 1901-08-28
THE PATH : =
TO PERDITION
BY LOUIS VINCENT
DE FOE.
Copyrie&t, 1901, by Louis Vincent De Foe.

country d w!..eh led
III to the right, past the old
l.-.-...-,..1 Quaker meeting house,
and, to the left, through
the worldly and iniquitous village call
ed into existence only year before by
the coming Of the new railroad.
This little cluster Of houses, mush-
room growth Of implanted boards, In
cluded, besides Il blacksmith shop and
general store, both welcome enough In
their way, tavern conducted on wide
open principles under the name of
Lowden's Halfway House, which had
speedily brought the locality into gen
eral disrepute. No one had discovered
toward what goal 1t marked the half
way point, unless 1t was that goal Of
torment which Is the ending Of every
career Of Incorporate profl'sacy.
In the dining room, which served like
wise as sitting room, the deacon was
carefully cleaning stray scraps Of wis
dom from the columns of the Michigan
Agriculturist, the silence of the house
disturbed only by the loud ticking of
the farm clock on the shelf In the cor
ner and tho busy click of the knitting
needles in the deft fingers Of Mrs.
deacon that he always postponed his
study Of The Agrlculturist until after
the harvest, when the information he
might gain was sure to be of least
value to him.
Presently the clock tolled the hour
Of 8, lingering long, 1t seemed. upon
the final stroke. Deacon Birdsell
started suddenly
Mother" he said, "don't you know
It's gettin pretty late?"
Mrs. Birdsell paused In surprise and
dropped tho half finished sock in her
lap.
"Eight and after. an it's high time
folks was abed," said the deacon. did
you shut down the back window an
bolt the kitchen door2 An Joel-of
course JoePs in"
AS If in answer to the deacon's QueS.
ton, the Quavering, uncertain notes Of
song sifted through the ceiling from
the chamber above.
"Shp' Mrs. Brdsell said, holding up
her finger in warning.
The song from the chamber above
gradually became more distinct until a
word could be understood here and
there in its uncertain rhythm. 1t bore
a distant resemblance to one Of the pop.
ular songs of the day heard with great
frequency In the nelghboring town, but
justly abhorred for It's worldly insinua.
tons in the peaceful Quaker church
neighborhood.
"William," exclaimed Mrs. Brdsell In
trembling voice, "somethln must be
done right away. It's gettln just awful
It's been weighin on my mind until
sometimes get that nervous"
Tho deacon gathered his shaggy gray
brows and stroket his angular unshav.
en- chin In silence for moment. 81
hate to think 1t Of JOEL" he observed
thoughtfully, "but I guess 1t must be
true. Have you been noticin anything
else lately, Martha?" The deacon sci.
dom addressed his wife by her given
name except on occasions Of great so.
lemnity.
"Anything! Good land allvew Mrs.
Birdsell swept her hands around her
head as If she was warding off a swarm
of impending evil. "It's gettin worser
an worser every day." she exclaimed,
with great earnestness, "an the worst
part of 1t all Is he's gettin that brazen
about ito think, too, William, that
he's your own brother!" The song be.
gan again in the chamber above, this
time accompanied by the unmistakable
sound Of shuffling feet.
"Just listen to that now" she went
on. with mournful emphasis. "I guess
you can hear 1t for yourselfp'
"Yes, mother, you're right" pro.
nounced the deacon refectively, slowly
nodding his head In nhe affirmative.
"Poor Joel Is certainly goin srralgnr 10
the-I was almost goin 40 say devil, an
here we are, you an me. sittin with our
hands folded, not doin a blessed thing
to put him right"
ut didn't get real bad till the middle
Of June-leastwise Joe9 didn't take to
goin out nights till theA." Mrs. Bird
sell squinted thoughtfuay through her
glasses as IL to look intD the past. "I
,hrst suspicioned him circus day over
an the town, when bs spent all that
money for box of colf8rs an them red
an green neckties. He seemed right
ashamed Of 'em, too-tSat IL to say, at
first he did,"
when was it he spdlEe to you about
erssSihn has aeap pant ms ,eas ypv o,nt ,oroot+.r
That, have you? 1t wae the very same
10y ho coue out from poWn DrlnRin bis
teil coat I'll never fesget that! He
HHas precious careful b keep that ri.
e6sc..o-a thing out Of my sight. an when
hasSpoke about the pants he blusbed
(iike,a boy. He says b me: Martha,
some tfmo when you've got a flatlron
on / wish you'd press out nv prov
pants an leave 'em creased before nm
behind. Folks say nowadays it kceps
'em from wearin out so quick, I nj.
most gave him piece of my mind
r1ght then an there. I says: Joel Bird.
sell! An Mt your time In life too He
didn't say another word, but went off
up stairs that ashamed-an that very
night was the first time In the 20 yeors
ne stald out till after midnight!
Deacon Birdsell clasped his long fin.
gers around his bony knee and bowed
his head.
III do say 1t, I watched him from
kne window when he went out" Mrs. |
birdsel! earnestly continued, ian |
seen him tiamp straight off toward the
Tavern. 'Twasr't the last time I'VE
seen him either"
The deacon suddenly started up and
49,