The Jennings daily record. [volume] (Jennings, La.) 1900-1903, 1902-05-12

7 song. played with a fond dwelling son
the notes that brought a new feeling of
tenderness to the puncher He could see
the group inside now. and noted that it
was a fresh-faced girl who had been play
ing. The music ended. she twisted the
pegs of the violin. drumming. the strings
Gently as she loosed Them Old man
Weaver was yawning and the mother had
q child in her lap. long since asleep
my! it's awful late" Sandy heard the
girl exclafm she put away the violin
don't you stop me. dad. when I get to
playing at night like this? Nobody will
want to get up in the morning"
II don't reckon anybody'd want to stop
that kind of fiddlin'." Sandy remarked to
the steady wind that came down from the
north Then he stopped his pony-he had
ridden on unconscious1y when the family
inside the shanty had scattered-and
turned in his saddle to gaze back at the
black outline of the ugly, sharp cornered
farmhouse. He turned his gaze to the
north once more. where, two miles away,
Bill Seymour was waiting impat iently. 1t
seemed to the puncher that he had but
Just thought of the plan to steal the cat
tie; and the impression this fresh concep-
ton made upon him was different from
anything that he had felt before.
IT'S stealin'. that's what it ISL he
commented suddenly. and turned his
horse about to ride back But shucks
it amt never been nothin but stealin'
since we fixed it up" Sandy here re-
membered that the plan was two weeks
old and the impulse much older. The
melody of the "Gondoliers Song" rang
in his ears; the unaffected simplicity
and innocence of the girl who loved
her violin walked a doubt in his mind.
To do or not to do thing swiftly. I'M
hesltatlngly had been the puncherS way,
and now he rode straight back to the
ranch house and went to bed. Bill Sey-
mour waited until midnight. decided that
Sandy had been hindered in carrying out
the plan ana went home also.
AT the dance given by Buck Conner
two days later Sandy talked first to
Seymour. explaining briefly that another
puncher dropped in the other night an
knocked the scheme out"
I'll ride part way home with you to-
night an We'll fix it up for some other
time" Bill said.
But Sandy forgot the arrangement I'M
til he was almost home. Without a mo-
ments warming he had been presented to
the girl of the violin. whose name, she
told him, Kitty Weaver And they
call You Sandy don't they" the girl
asked with simple frankness that
seemed to belong to the ''hddln' girl"
Sandy had not danced often with girls
who expected their partners to take of
the spurs on their boothee and to keep
their voats on. He was nervous until
the dance was called, and when Mr..
William West the prompter, began call
ing the figures of the long and difficult
set known as The Girl Left Behino
Me he became hopelessly confused.
"A grapevine swing, ratuesnake twist
sang out. Sandy gazed about hopeless
ly. Kitty. knowing every Ratification of
the figure. tried braNely to drag the
puncher through the tangled maze. She
awkward attempts.
Sandy did not care to try another set.
and Kitty pleased him by suggesting that
they sit out dance and allowing him ia
fan her heated face. She asked him
about his work. about the way to hog
tie a wild steer. about how he did the
cooking at the camp when he had finished
ms day s work. She told him of her own
experiences on farm in Kansas. where
she had risen before daybreak every
morning for TWO years to milk dozen
cows and get the milk ready to send
away to the market town.
1T was awful cold winter mornings
ana awfdl hard work on the hands al
ways said she spreading her hands
before Sandy. SO that he could not but
admire their fine. large shapeliness. 81
expect you never did milk :, cow now
old you? You just know how to rope
them and brand them. so on round-ups
and such" She did not know the COW
boy kind we'll and frankly admired their
strength and Cash
No answered Sandy. ~ amt never
had no reason to milk any: an I reckon
the Mashed O COWS would have to be
tied down before they'd agree to that,
anyway! But milkin' amt spoiled your
hands, The puncher had never. with
in his recollection, turned genuine
compliment easily. Il reckon you
Ike music mighty well. don't vou?"
| Sandy questioned as he noted the girls
unconscious beating of the time of the
dance music with her foot, and remem-
bered her playing.
Music? Do You love it. too? | play
the td.ie in kind of way / learned
some things up in Kansas of girl that
came from out East. She mostly
! sick and played the fiddle a lot. and
I died from consumption in year
two.
she didn't play this kind of tune
| did she2" Sandy indicated the solitary
musician in a corner Of the dancing
floor. who played slcepilN and. mcChani-
Cally. She grew enthusiastic with him
over their common passion and asked.
him. she was claimed for later set.
If ne would not ride over on a Sunday
to her
lis that straight" qaeried Sandy i'm
pulsiveIy. then. flushing. amended: "Td
! be mighty glad to. when J can get off.
An I'll learn you how to rope.
And IN let you milk our old cow"
responded the girl. Yes. and play for
! you if you care to listen Sandy for
| got that the dance was not half over.
and rode home. thinking only OF the
girls last promise.
1t was after Sandy mad paid his first
J Sunday visit to Kitty and had pleased
/ her by his enthusiasm and awkward de-
( voton that he next met Bill Seymour
| sandy. you've put off seeing me long
! enough now" Bill began. "Clarke'S done
shipped one trainload of steers. and /
/ want to know whether you're going to
! carry this agreement out or not
We'll. | amt" Sandy replied briefly.
/ Why amt You? Is it that cow-faced
; Weaver girl that's making Sunday
/ school boy out of you?'
/ ITS that Weaver girl that1l make me
whip you till you swaller them words"
/ Sandy retorted. and sprang to the ground
a.Nyr~N ftlf