The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1902-07-23
Observation-Disclosures
| Told I'm q
! Country Store

What the country store man can
not tell you Of every passerby and
pyery customer you are not likely
TO learn yourself.
That was what I was thinking,as
sat IN Bijah's store. with the
mingled odors Of calico print and
dried apples, coffee and the straw
that crockery. is packed in fighting
for supremacy in my notice.
Bijah's broad back was turned
10 me, and he was sorting the days
mail with comments that made me
as wise as himself regarding it's
contents.
"AIis' AIi-randy Beal," said Biiah.
"That'l be abaout her pension, I
guess. Ruthcr eficial lookin', that
IS. Mr.. Asy Fowler. His son John
gone down to Pochemouth-he
writes ter him nigh onter every
week, an a nice, clean hand he
writes, does John. Here's a letter
fur th' schulema'am. Now, there's
han'writin' fer ye! Putty as she is
an Jest as simple like"
The latch clicked, and the door
opened. Bijah looked over his
shoulder and grinaRd. was shut
out from sight of more than the Wis
itor's legs by slack line of dan
Cling towels, aprons and socks, bu
they were steady, reliable looking
legs, straight and strong, clothed in
heavy boots and blue overalls.
Bijah neither turned nor laid
down his letters. He stood there
grinning, and whether the person in
the doorway was grinning also or
plotting my assassination in pppto-
mime was none the wiser.
The heavy boots shuff1ed and
turned about, stepped outside, and
the door shut. Bijah chuckled to
himself and looked back to his let
tcrs again.
"Them papers is fur young
Thompson. He's tn editor Nv our
paper. He's alive-aliyc an kick
in. He's been out west fur spell.
an he thinks we're all dead an
buried. An he has made great
change in tn Bugler, 1 tell ye.
Folks say he'll be made ter smart
fur the way he muses. raound inter
peoples affairs; but it's lively, it's
lively"
The papers went into separate
box, and Bijah resumed the letters.
"Mehaly Hopkins, she's got
heap wv money. 'Mazin' haow fond
yer folks is Nv ye when yer got
pile an amt no heirs Nv yer buddy.
She's good fur 'em, though. She's
q cute un.'
81 suppose it is unusual for any
one to make much more than his
living anyway up here, isn't it,
Bijah?"
'Humphl Yes, fur any one, not
fur some Oh 'em, though. Some on
'em is smarter'n creased lightnin'."
He put his head on one side and
squinted at the letter he was hold
ing.
Him, now, Jeremiah Wilson,
hes keen un. Nobody ever got
tn best Nv tn ole man but Jim.
He saw Jim-come in here Jest
naow. Amt no later bugs on Jim. |
day"
Bijah gFinned and wagged his !
head.
Jeremiah - Wil-son!" he re-
marked I. and slapped the letter into |
its pigeonhole.
The latch clicked again, the door |
opened, and the same pair of legs
appeared in the very same spot |
where 1 had seen them before.
Bijah grinned.
Presumably the unseen grinned !
also, for there was too much of |
Bjah's grin not to be offensive, if |
it were otherwise. :
What we want?"
'Nothin'."
eve don't keep that, or eff we do
were jest aout Nv it."
The big boots turned about slow
ly. =.
a.. Sure s,u ss, ye don't want no lamps,
Goals go with 'em+?s
Not in this shop"
That settles it as fur as I'm
!" And he went away
and closed the door again. e
Bl!ah looked after him and