The county record. [volume] (Kingstree, S.C.) 1885-1975, 1905-10-19

GA4 left no sign. One morning
III August, 1865, at the age OF twenty
TWO, this young farmer had gone to his
cornteld TO top stalk" the corn. He
( was seen to enter the field. but no one
In that region saw him afterward.
What became of him remained an un-
solved mystery.
1t was hinted among neighbors and
relatives that Ansel had found his life
too hard for him. His young wife,
Lois, was known to be more ambitious
Tor thrift and money getting than he.
Ruulor had it that she had set for them
the stint Of laying up $500 a year off
their little farm, come what would;
that she scrimped their table to the
last degree of frugality, and that she
was constantly urging Ansel on to Ia
boz, early and late, without holiday
from January to December.
This gossip may have beer true, or
true in part. From generations of New
England thrift such economical
young housewives have sometimes
sprung, but the fact remained that An
eel had gone away and said nothing.
Lois version of it to her friends was
that Ansel had proposed that morning
s that they should attend a camp meet
Ing then in progress-not very riotous
form Of recreation, certainly-but that
she had urged him to top-stalk the
corn. She thought that he would come
back when he had "got over his odd
1T"
Lois remained upon the farm, which
was unencumbered, and she carried it
on herself after fashion of her own.
She kept cows and poultry, and pros
pered as such frugal soul naturally
would. 1t is said that she came near
laying up her stint" every year. More
over, she obtained six per cent for her
money on mortgages, and in twenty
eight years became the wealthiest
woman in that rural community. But
she still lived alone. and had cautiously
avoided all entangling alliances.
On her forty-eighth birthday, as she
sat eating her frugal supper alone, the
outer door opened and Ansel walked
in. drew up chair on the other side
OF the table, and sat down in his old
place opposite her. Lois knew him in
staltly. although a beard now over
spread his formerly boyish, smooth
face.
well, Ansel Sanderson, I suppose
h0Uo honl- IN lot, %ha
farm" she said, after a silence of some
moments duration.
mo, Lois. don't want the farm"
replied Anscl. Il had enough Of it
twenty-eight years ago. But I should
like some supper. / want four boiled
eggs and sheet of warm biscuit and
butter"
Eggs are going up, Ansel," replied
Lois.
That was about the last thing you
said 10 me in 1865" Ansel remarked
"But l will pay for my supper, Lois
IL have anything here. I'll pay cash
for it, Only won't be scrimped again.
Lois
AAN SUI lLS 1Oul UOllcu SSsS ouu luS
sheet OF warm biscuit and butter, and |
during the evening they compared |
notes ard talked matters over. Both |
had preSpe:ed. Lois had accumulated |
about $4,000, and Ansel was able to
make a display of Government bonds
and bills 10 the amonnt of nearly S20.-
900.
{ Between them they then came to a
new agreement, protected by express
stipulationS Oil both sides. Ansel was
to pay 81 week for his board, but was
ito have just what he called for each
day. He had that put down in black
and white. He had no claim to tie
farm, admitting that his rights to it
were "outlawed." He agreed to work
for Lois whenever he pleased, and not
otherwise, at $3.50 a day in summer
and 81 a day in winter. No other
claims or obligations on either side
were to be allowed or admitted!
Thus, after twenty-eight years, An
sci at fifty and Lois at forty-eight, re-
sumed life at the farm again.
On the whole. it was not an unfair
arrangement. Both were satisfied. 1t
was certainly no ones business but
their own, and I am far from presum-
ing to criticise it. mention it only as
the prelude to the story Ansel Sander
son told me of his wanderings during
the twenty eight years he was "lost,"
and of the singular manner in which
be accumulated his $4,000. For it was
q matter of no little wonder among his
former neighbors and acquaintanceS
how rolling stone" like Ansel could
have done so we'll, and brought home
20 much money.
When he went away, with nothing
but the coarse clothes he was wearing,
he walked to another county fifty miles
distant, where he worked on a farm for
a fortnight. Then he walked on again
to the vicinity OF Albany. n. Y. where
ne worked for month. Then he took
a weeks holiday, and walked on again,
always westward.
Tor four years he alternately worked
and tramped through Pennsylvania,
Ohio, Indiana, Illinois and Missouri. to
Kansas always working on farms, gen.
orally about q month in place. earn
ing enough to pay for his clothes and
the holidays he allowed himself. His
habits were unusually correct.
from Kansas he made n datour into