The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1903-02-11
JHE RETURNED
* 7 RAM p 81

+he wornout livery coat with epau-
lets. even the leathern strap sus-
nending from his shoulder his box
If knayish wares, affected a military
o;r and countenanced his lies and
deccptions.
The face was not repulsive even
low. Some distinction a%ppertained
10 the heavy mustache; andthe hol-
low beneath the high cheek bone,
the crows :eet around the eyes, the
tanned, weather beaten ruddiness OF
his complexion, might have beto-
kencd honorable service in poison
Gus swamps or under burning skies
instead Of shifty, footsore wander
ines with alternate hours of want
and wickedness.
lie dragged himself to the dusty
grass beneath the Give Ashes" at
the tour crossroads. he was faint,
for the hill had tried him, and sat
PAINTING with his back against a tree.
Then he opened his box and began
rolling infallible pills between his
filthy finger and thumb. Their
composition was a secret, but doubt
less they did some people a lot of
good.
For twenty years his heart had
never softened with q sentiment, his
soul never quiekened with an inspi-
ration, and now his wandering eye,
resting on a finger post across the
road, mechanically read: "Upton.
Leigh. Sutton-D Darcy"
All SO familiar once, and the last
his birthplace!
4 strange impulse, absolutely un-
reasonable, for recognition might
still be dangerous, took possession
of him, an irresistible desire to see
the place again, even though it were
by stealth at night. From the
bougils above his head: came the
"pink, pink" of a chafinch, and
through the filth and fog Of a quar-
ter Of a century Of evil, indistinct in
the fumes Of drink and smothered
in its own futility, cleaned a rem
;nisccnce clear and sharp as the
birds note:
An old farmhouse matched and
stone built, with mullioned win
dows; in the garden a tail pear tree,
with yellow buds g~listening in. the
early spring, and beneath a youth
with a gun peeping to get q shot;
then q man in breaches and hose,
elderly, but hale, drawing half hui
morously, "Why, Jack, my bwoy,
thy shots do het off more buds than
all the chafingers."
The old people must be gone now,
for Jack was the youngest and the
favorite five and thirty years ago.
Muttering against his own folly,
he slung On his box and Emped
along the Sutton road.
At evening he entered the Cups,
an inn on the outskirts of Sutton.
Everything was as formerly-the
same bench and stools, the same oak
settle by the hearth. Two laborers
playing ct shove!boaTd called each,
other familiar names, and the sing,
song of their voices brought back
the past.
"What parish may this be,
please?" he asked.
"zutton," replied both Abs and
Abe.
GA large village?"
""Tidden 20 terrible large"
"Small?"
""Tidden 20 wonderful small"
Satisfied with the subterfuge OF
these questions he sat down and
continued eagerly:
"Any O. the name Of Craddock
live here now?"
~Craddock, Ell" grinned Abs.
What dost gay, Abe?"
"Noo fear,' said Abe.
He hesitated, but the longing to
know overcame his judgment like
the craving Of a vice.
and the farm at the foot Of the
hlll-who lives there?"
Mr.. Craddock, be sure-varmer
William"
when I came this way before,
somebody people called Sand
ford"- n
"Ha, hap laughed Abs. SThen
you be q woldish bird, not Matched
last summer. Why, the old man
have a-bin dead these twenty year,
an the maid married Warmer VIII
liam, an he took on the farm. But
years avore she thought to "a mar
rled one Jack. But he took to hose
racen, SO ties said, am signed some
6ody's name an bolted. Never did
den hear no more o. he. But you be
a old file. What dost gay, Abe?"
Moo fear!" said Abe.
John Craddock n~ervously rose,
Strengthened his hank md foil into