The Union times. [volume] (Union, S.C.) 1894-1918, 1904-07-22

THAT I'd I,a 9eksa 9es a point TO ston nm taia
to i'm every day to see eff he'd notict
5 my face an speak OF It, but he didnt
I'vc started up to his office fifty timeS
an backed out, Jest beca'se I could
bear to be told that it was a canc<8
Howsomever,s one day, when 1t WI
more infamed thsn ever, L went to ID
ofhce-as weak as sick kitten, feelR
Jest like a man goin' to the scaffol&
1 went in an set down an waited fer
Inn to git through with somebody elS2
an when he turned to me said, 'DoS
want you to take a look at my face
He put on his specks an examined a;
then he laughed an said: I'm bet dhi-
lar you thought it was a cancer. Foiks
nowadays Is more anxious to raise cah-
GERS AN they are good taters.' But
amt 1t? 1 axed i'm. No. said he, it
hain't nothin' O. the sort. Eff you'll
quit rubin 1t every minute in the day
an stop thinkin' about 1t, it'll go away
In week felt as light as feather
when left him, but 1t wasn't twenty
four hours 'fore.I had some other all
ment
II was always lookin' fer the Lord
to show designs agin me. Fer one
thing, no children come to me m Mar.
tina, an 1 interpreted that as meanin'
that, sence I'd put life out O. the world,
I shouldn't fetch it In. Most married
folks worry when they hain't got some
offspring, but 1t worried me powerful
I never seed q happy child or proud
mother an father without feelin' the
Lords rebuke. Oh, George, George.
I've led the most awful life that was
ever led by human bein', 1T seems 10
mean 1 kept it all to myself, smilin'
along with the rest, an tryin' to find
some loophole Of escape. Now here's
whar you come In, an you'll think 1t
odd, but I've started in to explain in
full, an I'm goin' to do it. You know
1 used to pass yore pas place pretty
often, goin' to my river mill an farm.
an at the mill frequently seed you
comm on that swaybacked old mare,
a-straddle OF yore bag o. shelled corn,
barefooted even in winter, with yore
hands an feet cracked with the cold
1T was common report about how bad
you was treated by yore daddy an
what awful character he had. May
be you remember the talk me n you
had, an how you told me how anxious
you was to git schoolin' an books.
That was the fust day after my crime
that 1 got beam of spiritual light 1t
come all over me like flash that eff
could take you out'n yore degradation
an raise you to respectable, useful
place in life 1 could atone In part for
what I'd done. Do you remember that
day, George?"
George Buckley started, raised his
eyes from the floor in a sharp stare at
the haggard face before him and said:
Yes. sir, 1 remember that day."
well, 1 couldn't git away from the
dea. AS say, it was the fust bit of
light I'd had. The following winter
you remember my \ prona5s.s, }sss5 s,;s,,.S rs:
Dot you went of to school, AN then
the weight and bitterness of my heart
seemed to lessen, for every report had
was glorious. You stood head; you
made the best speeches; you had the
most friends among teachers an pupils.
Oh. George, George, you don't know
what 1t meant to me; you seemed to be
totin' me out Of Il rushin' rivera river
rushin' toward hell! Then you know
about the job give you here after you
graduated: every dollar you laid up an
properly invested was proof to me that
God had heard my long prayer an was
answerin' it In his own way. l was
putin into life a man fer one ! had
tuck out. Only one hitch occurred. an
that was when they threatened yore pa
with arrest fer pennin' up them hogs
Then you got desperate an started in ID
drinkin'. But we sQuaShed that, an ID
went on smooth again till this-this
late matter. And now-oh. George, Pnt
afeard-Pm afeard the Lord or thd
devil, or both combined, have been
leadin' me through all this road II
promise jest I'm order to let Inc fall thA
harder. I've come here tonight to prayi
to you-yes, to yOu--tO save me. If you'll
60 down, l do too. Now you see what
1t all meant an what it means to me.
I'm in yore hands, my boy. AS Gods
agent, you hold me in the palm o. yore
hand"
The old mans voice broke. He made
an effort to say something more, but
choked up, and, with his gaze on the
ragged rug in front Of him. he sat quite
motionlcss except for his heaving
shoulders. George Buckley bent for
ward, his hands tightly clasping each
other. Without word he rose and
went with steady step out into the
darkness of the warehouse. Hillyer
heard his crunching tread as he walk
ed back and forth over the grain
strewn floor, and he knelt beside the
bed and tried to pray the prayer that
had rung in his old brain for thirty
years, but somehow the worn words
refused to come George Buckley's 81
lence was against him. His long de-
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