Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1902-05-03
SLEEPY CREEK FOLKS


whisked around the curve and with it dis
appeared all reminders of the strenuous
life. With a sigh of relief the passenger
who had just stepped from the train tilted
his SLOUGH hat on the back of his head
and his face lit up with a smile of pleasure
and anticipation as he turned to the coun-
tryman who stood by his side watching the
disappearing train.
We'll, Mac. how are the folks? he
asked.
"All right, sir, and they will be very
spring chickens and I've saved you a fine
jowl from one Of them Berkshires to boil
with your greens tomorrow
That's bully. Have you any bait, and
Is the water in condition."
eyes, Jake spent the forenoon seinng
for minnows and got hundred beauties
and the water never better. Jim
Mosely caught eight bass before breakfast
this morning"
The two had been walking slowly up the
cinder path by the track side as they talk
ed, and now reached the little group which
had gathered about the small station in
front of which the forward coaches had
stopped. Sleepy Creek wasn't much Of a
place, just two houses and small freight
shed, painted red, on the platform of which
rested an odoriferous bag of fertilizer, two
plows and a couple of slabs of "sdemeat."
On the ground beside the freight shed was
a group of residents, headed by Ben Holli-
day. who kept the general store and. as
the mail pouch slung across his shoulder
indicated, also was postmaster.
A chorus of "howdys" and cordial hand
shakes greeted the passengers salutation.
after which he walked toward the river to
get the boat ready, while his guide fingered
until the mail was opened. Depositing his
grip in the boat he sat in the stern and
filled his pipe, and after the first long
Whit settled back with a grunt Of salts
faction as he took in the scene.
To the eastward Old Broadback stretched
away across the landscape, massive and
ponderous. his rugged heights touched by
the last rays of the departing day, while
the shadows already were darkening in the
ravines below To the westward, in the gap
in Sideling Hill. the sun was sinking, clear
and red. promising a fine day for the NOR
row. Up that way the river flowed in
narrow channel of molten gold. ripping to
the line of shadow cast by the mountain
on the water.
Nearer by the river went deep. silent and
dark. With the going down of the sun the
air had turned suddenly chill and came
favored with a little tinge of forest smoke
that betokened a fire In the mountains.
Once the passenger caught a Whit of bacon
that was more stimulating to the appetite
than cocktail. Wood smoke, bacon and
mountain air form a combination of out
door odors that once smeied can never be
forgotten.
Soon old man Mac came trudging down
the path with the mail and his purchases
lEOll the store anu showed the BOAT II. AS
they rowed across the river they heard some
fellow along the towpath singing that
quaint country song, "Old Joe Bowers"
From farm house near the river a chorus
Of frantic squeals and grunts indicated
feeding time for the hogs. The jangling Of
cow bells in several different keys was
evidence that little Hank was getting the
cattle in for the night The odor of bacon
in the night air was unmistakable now. and
with it came a flavor of coffee and hot
bread The passenger getting mighty
hungry.
The unpretentious frame house on the
hillside, just above the river. looked very
inviting, with Its lights and a little wood
fire glowing in the fireplace to keep off the
dampness in the night air Old Macs
daughter was fitting about the room set
ting the table when the two went in and
were greeted by Mrs. Mac and little Hank
and the rest of them.
After supper the men folks sat on the
porch to smoke. being joined by Jake and
Jim Mosely and Pete Hawkins. neighbors
who knew there would be visitors when
they saw the limited stop at the station
1t was beautiful out there on the porch
one seemed very much closer the sky than
in town The great arc of the heavens
was studded with stars shining brilliantly
IN the clear mountain air. A whppoorwill's
mournful cry came from the dark hillside
across the river. while the night sounds of
the forest nearer by filled the air
odd Mrs. Purdy died this week" said
mac after pause which had followed a
desultory discussion of the prospects of
nshifg FOR the next day. "Old man Purdy's
mighty mig badly broke up. They lived out on
me Ridge just where you turn off the
pike to go to Haines Mills
We all went to the funeral, of course
She was buried in the graveyard at Mt
Plsgah church, and Parson WEIGH preached
a powerful sermon. Old Man Purdy seemed
TO KIND of lean on me In his hour of trib-
ulation and 1 brought him back to his
mouse In my buggy. l wanted him to come
MI lN,,fI - IA
up to his little place all alone. the other
folks having turned off at different roads
1T was late in the afternoon, just before
SHUTDOWN when the sunshine has that lone
some, melancholy look, you know The
little house looked mighty forlorn because
We knew there was something missing in
it. The chickens stood around the back
door step, kinder detected, as if they sus-
plcloned there was something wrong and
that FEEDING time might be missed Old
MIS- Pudry's cat was stretched out on the
Kitchen window sill. and am sure the crit
ter knew what had happened.
I'VE went into the back sittin' room.
There was old Mrs. Purdy's specs on the
table by the window, and one of his socks
she was darning the night she took to bed
He would allow nobody to touch II when
they were settin' up with her The sickly
looking sunshine fell in a square patch
on the frayed rag carpet. which Mrs.
Purdy had made when she and the old man
were a heap younger. I stayed with him
until his niece, Sarah Jennings, came over
to get him his supper and then 1 started
home.
"As 1 drove over the hill looked back
and saw Old Man Purdy settin' on the
back door step, his head in his hands The
cat was rubbing up against him and the
chickens stood around. with their heads
cooked up one side. looking at him, but he
didn't seem to see them. 1 reckon he must
have been crying"
The passenger knocked the ashes out of
his pipe on the porch railing.
I'M in 70 Il fhnv,, ID
pigs, this fall that you thought was so
purity" said Jim Mosely. breaking the 81