The Montgomery advertiser., 1901-11-30
THE ADVERTISERS DAILY SHORT STORY

II | He sat by the roadside, his elbows on his knees. his face in his hands, gazing at the sunllt hills before him. The af. ternoon was hot. and he was tired and hungry. He had walked many miles since morning, and the dirty face beneath the | torn hat-brim was streaked and smeared with precipitation. It was @ careworn, and privation had left marks, face which childish pleasures had hurried by; but In the eyes there was an expression | of defiance, mingled with uncertainty. southward; behind him rose the rugged hills, with their scanty covering of oak and pine trees and meagre sprink- ling of scattered houses.
 Moving uneasily, he glanced anxiously over his shoulder at the clay-daubed house in the clearing, halfway up the hill behind him.; then his eyes wandered back to the hills again.
 T dunno what ter do," he muttered. at last Tt were bad afore Nanny went away, but cts worse since Liza Snow an tn new baby come. Yestiday her knocked me over, an tn day afore I'm a-goin'"
 His hand cIinched and the shrill, child ish voice had defiant ring. The sun was sinking in the west, flooding the hills with gold, while from somewhere out of the pines came the. tinlxie of a COW bell. The boy shuddered.
 T dun tn best I knowed fur youns, Nanny" he, whispered; but fur little
 His voice ended In sob, and tears trickled unheeded down the dirty little face. The hills, the houses and the trees faded away. He saw again the room in the house on the hill behind him, with It's few battered cooking utensils, it's splint-bottomed chairs and worn deal table. Living on a bed in the corner was woman, her eyes bright with a fever nr fAh fno .f,nsNf fraxrr nrd the window. through which she watched the settling sun.
 'Joe," she said at last. wearily turn ing. her head. Pm a-goin' Home ter go thet yer'll take care O little Tildy Ann. l dun the best I could fur ye," she continued. brokenly; though, Cord knows, twan,t much. Yer dad won't he'll take ter beatin' ye, when he ain't got me-" She looked yearningly at the child beside her. "So I wants yer ter promise , thet yer'n allus stan atween
 And, kneeling there in the gathering darkness, he gave promise to the dying woman. That night all was over, and ithe clay-daubed house perched on the which comes only when life has flown. Early the next day he had helped his father and some of the neighbors bury her, in the grove beneath the hill. where O withered oak leaves moaned through the long winter nights. For two years he had been faithful to his trust; for two years, and now
 T dunno what ter do," he sobbed; "I dunno what ter Go?' He had lost sight of the ugly clay-daubed house and the familiar hills that morning for the first time in his life. Long before sunrise he had crept from the house and follow ed the road as it would around the hills like some great snake in the purple morning light toward the distant town. He walked until the rugged mountains rising above his home grew hazy and indistinct; until strange scenes and new faces met him at every turn. Once or twice he had been given & lift by some friendly mountaineer. to whom he boldly flowed he were a-goin ter tn circus" But when he reached the town, with its unaccustomed sights and sounds, he felt alarmed and uncertain as to what to do. Hesitatingly he followed the hurrying crowd toward the circus tent; but as he neared 1t the strangeness of the scene, the music and the noise frightened him. Pushing his way through the crowd he looked anxiously about for some means of escape. when suddenly he determined to run around to the back of the tent, for there all seemed quiet.
 Cnnoticed and alone he crouched in the grass until, gaining courage with the passing moments, he crept nearer the tentst Looking timorously around, he cautiously raised corner and proceeded to crawl under the canvas. Succeeding
 Sundays story. THE RAG COUPLES s