The Lexington dispatch. [volume] (Lexington, South Carolina) 1870-1917, 1905-03-22
The Lexington Dispatch.
Wednesday, March %, 1905.
His Mothers HOPE.

year, stands an old RUN, known to
everybody as ''she castle, and 'hough
it has no roof to speak of, ard every
wall full of cracks, it is inhs b ted by
old Mother Kobes and her 500. A
striking figure is this old womsn,
With face which would deiit hs any
artist; the lips are only two thin,
blush strips, unable to conceal her
two lonely teeth, and her shin looks
like plougbed field; but her great
steel grey eyes are as clear IS those
OF baby, but in spite OF ber l02
years she is able to read without
glasses, and her back is still strai ight,
and she scores the use Of cane.
She performs her daily work in
house and field, as she has done for
more than eighty years, never for a
minute considering that she is no
longer as strong rs when she was 3
girl of twenty.
Beside her son is working. The
''boy," as she calls him. can hardly
lay claim to that name any longer,
as be is more than seventy years old.
But to her he is always the young
boy: She cooks for him, mends his
clothes aud makes bis bed every day,
though she must admit that che is
no longer able to catch as many feae,
which infest the ''castle " She keeps
him on the straight and nsrrow path,
az far as possible, and Often trots a
long distance to the wayside inn to
draw him away from bad companions.
But hers had been hard task.
No amount of care has been able to
prevent him from becoming con.
firmed d.unkard, and anyone who
sees his bloated face, with the dull,
expressionless eyes and blush red
nose, can for minute doubt that
he loves the bottle much more than
he loves work.
During the last fifty year the poor
mother has probably half carried,
half led him home from the inn more
than two thousand times, and every
time be has promised that be will
leave liquor alone.
People laugh at her, but she still
believes in his good intentions when
he swears that he will never touch q
drop, and is firm in the belief that
her seventy-year.old boy will come
time become man who will be able
to earn his own living.
In the evening, when the clock has
struck nine on the village steeple and
her son has not yet returned, the old
woman jumps out of her bed, puts
on her old coat and starts out to.
wards the inn.
Many night I have been sitting
there, watching her as she came by,
her cid eyes looking for her wsyward
boy all over the room, which is filed
With the smoke of cheap tobacco and
reeking with the stencil of bad liquor.
And when she has caught sight of
him her thin lips grow still thinner,
an expression of determination set.
Ties on her old, wrinkled face, and
slowly she walks over towards the
table at which he is sitting.
When she has come within two
PAGES Of him she stops, mods her
head and commences staring at him
for minutes without saying e word.
The boy" at first tries to make be-
lieve that he does not sse, but when
he sees that this has no effect he
commences to tumble through all his
pockets for the change with which
to pay for bis drinks. The eyes of
his old mother, piercing, as it were,
his every soul, seem to cause him
physical pain.
''Yes. yes mother, I am coming. I
was just getting ready to go when
you came in. I only wish you would
stop scoldipg me when there are 80
many people around"
And all the time the woman has
never said q word. But she never
removes her eyes from him, and this
is more than her son can stand.
In few seconds he has found the
money, and gets up from the table.
The moment he stands up the old
woman pounces upon him like q
chicken hawk, catches him by the
nspe of the neck, and commences
pushing him towards the door.
"Don't pinch me 30, mother. lam
ready to 60 IS soon as I can find my
hat"
"You miserable. good-for-nothing,
your hat is on your head and with
this she gives him push in the back
that makes him tumble out Of the
door.
Outside I hear her talking to him
in her quiet, motherly manner.
my BOY, you make me spend many
nights on the dusty roads when I