The Manning times. [volume] (Manning, Clarendon County, S.C.) 1884-current, 1904-09-21


Hi. 'er started home. He pass
1 E ed the postof6ce, went into the
little building, looked absently
into his lock box, and then, taking
street that led past the town park
and several Of the most pretentious
churches, he soon reached his house,
which was two story brick building
with an old fashioned white veranda
and an l.. The house, like many others
in the place, stood on big lawn shad-
ed by large oaks, magnolias and null
berry trees. A wide walk bordered
with stunted rosebushes Of some cheap
variety and covered with gravel
reached from the gate to the steps.
Along the side fence was row Of bee
hives, and frisking about IL the yard
was young calf.
Mrs. Hillyer was in the sitting room
with her niece, rather plain girl Of
thirty, Miss Hortense Snowden, who
had been living with the Eillyers since
the death Of her parents, twelve months
before. They both rose at the sound
of the merchants step in the wide, IN
carpeted ball, and when he had enter
ed they stood waiting for him to sit
down before resuming their seats at the
open fireplace, in which some dry hick-
ory logs on old fashioned brass headed
dog irons were cheerfully ablaze, fur
nishinr the chief light Of the shaded
room.
"Well, anybody would know from
his looks how the case come out" said
Mrs. Hillyer as she sat down and
spread out her calico skirt. can eff it
had a. been dark I could "a read the
news in the way he put his feet down
in the hall" She was short, cheerful
looking woman past fifty. Her eyes
were almost black, very keen, and they
flashed at all times with a merriment
that seemed as much part of her as
electricity is part Of an electric bat
terry. Her hair was abundant and red
dish brown and fell in intractable
waves over her brow and ears.
'.Yes, it not only went clean agin the
old man, but Judge Moore pintedly re-
fused to cut it down to a fine" Hill
yers voice had a tone Of deep de-
lection as he said this, and he kept his
eyes on the fire.
"An' kin see you mighty nigh had
a spasm over it, replied Mrs. Hillyer.
"Lawsy me, eff I never found anything
to worry about till I worried over the
lust punishment leveled on the head
O. that old scamp I'd so to my grave
without a gray hair or a wrinkle.
That's the trouble with you an George
both. You are not carryin' out the
Scriptural injunction not to Kick aGln
the pricks. don't know exactly what
the good book says obout it. l d1sre-
member. In fact, ! don't know that
ever run acrost it in print myself, but
YOU bet it's thar. My father, who
eat an slep' with the Bible IN his
hand, used to always keep sayin', when
folks was continually a-complalnln'
Don't kick agin the pricks.' An he
was right. Eff you set down OF board
with a tack in it. the harder you set
the more tack you git, an that's SO
with life. It's full Of tacks, an don't
YOU forgit it. The Lord put old Buck
ley in Jail to keep i'm in bunch OF his
kind. so the devil wouldn't root around
among good folks so much to keep up
with i'm, but Oh, no! You amt
a-eoin' to put up with it, an right now
yore face is sour enough lookin' to
spile cream in the middle o Decem-
ber"
II was thinkin' about George" said
Hillyer softly. Its mighty nigh kill
in i'm"
"That's so, Aunt Martha spoke up
Hortense Snowden. Its awful on
him. Why, just think Of it The best
people in barley receive him and like
him. He was rising rapidly, but
thing like this, as proud and sensitive
as he is, will almost kill him.
You kin laugh an make sport as
much as you want to-" said Hillyer,
more boldly, ''an' you needn't kick agln
nothin' unless you want to, but III jest
like Hortie says. he won't be able to
face the music. He's all right When
he amt driy' too fur, but this mas al
ready started i'm to drinlin' ag in"
..oh, uncle, you don't mean it"'
"yes, it has," groaned the merchant,
"an' the Lord only knows whar it's go
in to end
"Huh. I say, then, George Buckley
hain't the man I tuck i'm fer" retorted
Mrs. dillyer. II wish I could ketch
i'm takin' q dram on account o this
thing. III give i'm talk that I'D make
'im"-
go cit blind, soakin' drunk" inter
rupted Hillyer as he rose and went out
through the kitchen to the stables TO
see if his fayorite horse had been at
tended to. When he was gone, his
wife got up and punched the fire with
the poker.
Il reckon you think I'm hard heart
ed" she said to her silent niece, "but,
Hortte, it's the only way to git on with
i'm. You don't know nothiE'. never
let yore folks know what I've been
through. I'd "a been crazy or dead
long ago ef the Lord hadn't showed. me
how to make light O serious things.
pye had heap o. tough times, but I
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