The Montgomery advertiser., 1904-01-08
BY FRANK H. SWEET.

Copyright. 1908. by Daily Story Pub. Col
 Gabe was lying on his back. his hands clasped under his head, gazing un- thinkingly at the sky. He was 9 years old and barefooted.
 Overhead a buzzard foated upon mo. tionless wings, and Gabe's eyes followed 1t so far as they could without causing
 his head to move. If he had any thought that was strong enough to be called an ambition. it was to be buzzard, for a buzzard was not forced to flap its wings to fly.
 Times had been going somewhat hard with Gabe of late. For one thing. he had had to think. and the prospect was that before long he might have to do. Coon er's daughter was now of age, and the understanding bewteen the families had been that sometime. after Mary Bet was old enough. these two should marry, in order to save the seven acres on one side of the slope being separated from the nine acres which joined and swept over and dewn the other side. Cooner was abitrary, and Gabe's father, under the influence of Cooner, would be just as despotic. Then Mary Bet was pret- ty, there was no denying that, and more than once Gabe's heart had thumped tiresomely in her presence. In that state he had looked about her cabin critically, 1t may be hopefully.
 But Mary Bet did not like work her self He had found the axe lying be- side three or four uncut branches which her father had dragged in. and the sew en or eight chickens peclring about with out a sign of coop or shelter. By that time his heart was again beating tran quilly, and he had viewed the scene with fn~akhnaro.1,f- rVAaA Mary Bet he would have to cut wood. and perhaps make chicken coops, and 1t might be he would even have to plant corn and potato patch. The thought made permanent by the persistent hints of Cooner and his father, has harassed him for days past, and this morning. feeling the need for absolute, minimizing rest, he had come out to this sunny spot where he could lie in his favorite atti- tude, with his hands clasped under his head.
 floated slowly beyond view. and the uIl- thinking eyes following It began to grow dreamy and heavy, there came sud- den rasping interruption. It was Cooner admonishing his father.
 q tell ye," the strident voice was say ing, this thing is gOin' on too slow. Fust we know somebody'n be steppin' in, an then where'n our two estates be? Divided. There's that Bill Tanner, al- ready comir' up to see Bet an she lowin' him. Phaw! He'd be for carryin' her way down to his cabin in the valley, an likely's not they'd be for sellin' my seven acres some day. I tell ye, Nose, ye must be stirrin' up Gabe He's good boy an won't never be goin' off; an if he's got a single wicked habit I've never heered on 1t. I'll see the preacher this very day, an have him come up in two weeks. We'll have 'em ready by that time. I'll have to get Bet some. new shoes an you must see bout Gabe's gettin' his hair cut. It's pretty toler ble long an untidy for a weddin'. An wed better be askIn' all the folks to come
 Gabe had forced himself as deep as possible into the leaves, and he lay with bated breath until the voices and foot steps had died away toward Cooners cabin. Then he groaned and removed his hands slowly and despairingly from beneath his head. He must think, ana think quickly and hard, or he would be lost.
 Bil Tanner was peeling bark in the valley. He was a worlSer-not in the ordt- nary acceptance of the word, perhaps, but from the Slope" point of view. Cabe went to him there
 ''Hullo, Bill, he pegans anaDiy. Get- tin quite a heap. ain't yer"
 Bill nodded gruffiy. He had no obJec- ton to Gabe personally, only that he was welcome at the Cooner cabin. But that was enough.
 'Hullo," he responded. "But Tow ye'd better come some other day. I'm too busy to talk now"
 That's all right" graciously. 'I don't mind seein' folks work. Comin' up to- night?"
 ''Where?''
 Boomers, of course" with grin. "But there's no need to get mad. Bili, at the look on the others face; Il ain.t here to plague ye. I came down to sell my tater patch. whatn ye gtve?"
 It was Bnlis turn to grin
 'I've heered bout that tater patch, he said. Its two acres, an old Cooner plowed it with his mule, an your dad planted 1t all by himself. an you was to do the hoein' an diggin'. dSn't b'lieve we've struck Q lick in 1t yet"
 "I don't b'lieve I have" acknowledged Gabe. frankly. "But what'I1 yp give?''
 ''Why, thought they was your wed- din taters," said Bill. wonderingly. 'I hesred Cooner say there'd be forty bush- els an' that ye could sell twenty and have twenty for winter put by"
 "Yes, heered him say that myself" smiled Gabe. "But see here, Bill. I ain't a henderin of nobody. Bet likes you bet tern she does me. an you likes her, an