The Montgomery advertiser., 1905-01-14
A Safe Medicine for Children.
Our Daily Sport Story

had to make the living fur him and our lit- l tie gal"
 She sat for some moments in deep ab- straction.
 Tt wuz hard, but somehow I managed to keep our heads above water, and when Losy growed up. everybody lowed she wuz the pirtiest gal in Knox County. Eyes as blue as beads, skin as white and saft as a baby's, and hair as yaler as them merry golds out wander. needed her at home to help me. and only sent her to two schools.
 but it wuz a sight to the world how the child larnt! I kin see her now. settin' by
 her paps bed readin the scriptur to him all erbout Norer and the ark and Joner swallerin' the whale"
 Again she paused, Her eyes had become tender childs
 When she had turned into her fourteenth year." she finally resumed. thar come along one day a stranger. He looked like them men down thar at the hotel in his dressing, wuz good looking, we'll hammered 1 and had voice like woman's. And how he did dress! His pockets Jest bulged with ! money. He wuz a artist, and nothing would do but he must paint Losy's pictur. He l lowed ef he could paint face like herp his reppytation would be made. My old man bed rid with drapsy of the heart: the last payment on the place wuz nearly due; l needed the money and so r tuck him to board. When I giv in fur Losy
 
 fifty dollar bill in my hand. felt like drappin on my knees and thanking him. God! Elf I could have seed his black heart. I'd a sunk knife through and through it afore placing my little gal in sich danger!" Again she paused and the visitor broke in: Pray go with the story. I'm partic- ulary interested in artists. for my husband belongs in that category-ah! such an ons as he is Two continents delight to do him honor
 The mountaineer appeared not to hear. but continued her narrative as talking to herself:
 "The night alter him and Losy run away my man died-calling for our little gal with his last breath-and then I wuz left in the old home alone"
 And Losy-your daughter-what be- came of herr"
 Mighty nigh a year passed and no word come, though something 'peared to tell me shed come back. On Christmas Eve l settin' afore the fireplace. thinking Of the happy days that wuz gone from me for ever All at onct I sensed that some one at the winder looking in at me. I turned and seed her. my little gal, but O. so pore, pitiful and sorrowfull With a cry of joy I flew to the door, throwed 1t open and ketched her to my breast jest as her little body fell faintng in her mammie's arms! Pore little gall Pore little Losyi She went away & child, and come back
 broken hearted womanl I brung her in and somehow got her to bed, and soon's could leave her I called to Bob Strunk to go fetch doctor quick. We worked with her all night but 'twarn't no use! I'd found her 1eYt to lose her aginl Jest as the sun come up over Indian mountain she breathed her last-died in my arms thank God fur that No word passed her lips but thar wuz a look on her face that makes me know my little gal is at rest"
 Tears coursed unrestrainedly down the kVVk N0wz1 WE.a firm, set lips. The little woman in white giided forward and threw her arms impul- siveIy around the elder womAn's neck
 Poor dearr' said she in a voice full of sympathy. How you have suffered. You were quite right. I have not as yet learned the meaning of the word sorrow"
 There were tears in her eyes as she stood stroking the woman's coarse hair.
 sI buried her by her pap under the big chestnut tree on the hill. The old place never 'peared the alter that. Some how I couldn't content myself no more, fur everything put me in mind of her so, the flowers she'd planted. her books and the old trees vvhar she used to swing. felt like I'd shorely go deranged lessen I went way off summers, so l sold the place and cut out. They air sleeping side by side way over on van side of that range of mountings-full fifty mile from here It's bean ten years ago. and all that time I've watched and waitedi I brung jest two things away from the old home-my old mans shotgun and the partly finished pie tur of Losy. The pietur is mine. it's all I've got left of my little gal, but the load in that lar gun is fur him-the devil that wrecked my home-and as shore as God sets on the throne. I'll send him to Kingdom come ef he ever crosses my path. The blood of my man and Losy cries out fur vengeance"
 The visitor shuddered as her eyes inad- vertently sought the rack in which the gun rested.
 And the picture she said with a rising infection.
 The mountain woman walked to the wall opposite and drew back Q lowered calico curtain
 cry of admiration came from the vis- itor's lips as she went over and critically the half finished canvas Truly the woman had spoken the truth the face depicted was beautiful as an angels. incom- parably lovely-a veritable Madonna--a face fs-As@sra about.