The Manning times. [volume] (Manning, Clarendon County, S.C.) 1884-current, 1901-07-17
TIE STAGE
DR1 1VER'S Story
By Mary B. Sleight.

4sTaAT? Oh, that's old Squire
Homes place; at least, twas
his once, and mighty fine place 1t
is, too" said capt. Bob" the stage
driver.
I was the only passenger, and as
the day was fine I was sharing his
seat for a better view Of the country.
We were just then passing a large,
old-fashioned mansion standing well
back from the road and surrounded
with magnificent elms and naples.
Eyes, it's a mighty nice old place"
repeated the driver, "and it just does
me good to see them youngsters frol-
licking on that grass plot. Hullo!
there's the old squire himself" and
he pointed with his whip handle to
a shaggy-bearded old man who with
the help of crutch was hooblng
down the steps. Seems pretty bad
" broken up. And he used to be one
O. the halest, heartiest men in Stan
tonville. I know I used to look up
at him when was boy and think
that the giants I'd read about could
Mt have been much bigger. But the
trouble with hin was his inside
makeup didn't fit the outside. 1t
always seems to me when see some
O. them great gianty-lookin' men as
il the Lord meant 'em to have hearts
as big in proportion as their oodles'
but they don't always; or II they
were big once, they've. got so badly
shriveled up, some of them, that
should think they'd wabble round
like a dried kernel in a walnut she'll.
"My uncle Ben used to go to school
with the squire when he was
younester, and he says he was so
mean that he wouldn't so much as
give a fellow an apple core without
maxim him pay back in chewin' gum,
and when ycu see boy so stlngy
as that you can most gently tell
about what sort Of man he is goln
to make. But he was an only son,
and I s'pose that helped to spoil
him. He had one sister, and when
her husband died, leavin' her with
two children and scarcely money
enough to pay his funeral expenses,
she begged her brother to let her
come back to the old home; but she
might as well have asked that big
rock yonder to take pity on her.
And 'twasn't long before the poor
ladv, not being used to hardships,
broke down and died. Folks thought
then that maybe he'd be shamed into
doin' something for the two orphans,
seein' they were his own nephews;
and he was; he took 'em both out o
school and 'prenticed 'em to shoe
maker. Generous, wasn't he? And
he had but one child of his own, too,
and she was a girl that would have
been glad enough to have 'em for
brothers. Her own mother was dead
as nice a woman as you'd care to
meet; one o your real ladies, with
ALWAYS a smile and heartsome word
for everybody; a good prayln' won-
an, too. Folks that knew her inti-
mate use' to say that she was always
pravin' for the squire, and that
sometimes she'd send a note askin'
to have him prayed for in meetin'.
She didn't give in his name, but
everybody knew who it was. But
prayin' for a man like Squire Hone
always seems to me waste O.
breath. Anyway, the poor lady died
without seem any good come of It,
and 'twasn't more'n a year fore he
was married again. The second wife
was a good deal like himself, big and
handsome, with no more heart than
an oyster, and Annie, who was one
O. them soft-eyed little things that
always look as if they wanted lot
O. motherin', got to-pinin' so that
at last some of her mothers relatives
over in Waterbury sent for her and
KEEP her till she was grown up. l
remember as well as if twas yester-
day the day she came back; I'd just
begun drivin' the stage, and she was
one O. my first passengers, tall,
slin-built girl, with a forehead like
a baby's, and look in her eyes that
made you feel as if you wouldn't say
swear word before her no more'n
you'd cut off your hand; and that's
| the kind O. girl that I like to have
round when that off horse begins to
get balky. Hi, there, Jerry! None
o'.your nonsense!" But the off horse
was in mulish mood, and there was
long break in the story.
"The squire'd been sort O. ailin'
that spring." said Capt. Bob, when at
last the baker was conquered, "and
when Annie heard of it she hurried
home to see if she couldn't cheer
him up. And he was mighty we'll
pleased to have her there, for he and
madam didn't get on any too we'll
together; and no matter how mean
a man is, he likes havin' somebody
to coddle him all the same, specially
when he's sick. But when he found
cut that she was gettin' letters from
young teller in Waterbury, and
was expectin' some time or other to
marry him, he was madder'n March
hare, and swore that if she didn't
give him up he'd cut her of without
a penny. But Annie didn't take
that part of it much to heart, for the
young man was purity well to do, and
as he wasn't through college they did
mt feel in any hurry about marry
in. But as soon as he was ready to
start out for himself he went right
to her father, for he was a real
straightforward sort of feller, and
told him he'd come to ask for Annie.
For answer the squire ordered him
to go about his business and wait
till he was sent for. But at that
Annie braced up and said that she
had given her promise to marry him
as soon as he was through college,
and seein' she was of age she
thought it wouldn't be right for her