Shepherdstown register. [volume] (Shepherdstown, Va. [W. Va.]) 1849-1955, 1905-01-05
A SON OF BELIAL.

The brasses shone like gold, and the
beds were made in smooth mounds,
covered with gay quilts, All the
work was over until Monday morn
ing. In this house Saturday was a
day of holy preparation, and no work
was done after high noon whereas
there were homes in the neighborhood
that were content to settle down after
sunset into the Sabbath peace and
calm.
On the spotless pantry shelves
stood loaves of rye and Indian bread,
a bowl of mush and dish of baked
beans, for no fire could be made for
cooking purposes until Monday, not
even in cold weather. All winter
long the household lived on cold vict-
uals from Saturday noon nnhl Mon
day morning, although on very bitter
days the mush was sometimes thawed
out upon the hearth.
1t was many years ago, of course;
before the Revolution, before meeting
houses were churches ; in the days Of
tlthing men and candles and pewter
plates and warming pans when the
country was yet very young and the
inhabitants very set in their ways.
But, outside, the birds were in full
chorus; the trees plumed the hillsides
with blossoms the brook gurgled
over its stony bed, glistening like a
jeweled ribbon beneath the gold-green
droop of newly leaved bows. There
were May odors in the air, May Ouz-
zing and whirring and chirruping
around, the linpid blue of a May sky
overhead.
Enos Judkins slipped from the long
cabin end of the rambling farmhouse
and walked listlessly to the barn,
and from there down through the or
chard, and thence on to the brook that
gurgled away into the forest. There
was no work to be done, and heliked
work and he had on his Sunday
clothes, and above all things he dis
liked to be dressed up"
There were those who said that
Enos Judkins was not "sll there, ="
that part Of him-the best part-had
been left at the meeting house where
his parents had been killed by the
Indians, and where his own scalp had
been all but removed. Around his
head, Just under the edge Of hair, a
livid line still showed where the knife
had circled.
But all there or not, Deacon White
found him the best boy-or mamie
had ever hired, though Enos was yet
to finish his seventeenth year. The
boy never grumbled at work, and he
never spoke unless spoken to; and
those were attributes which the thrift
ty deacon could thoroughly appre-
ciate. No matter what the task, the
boy was always ready for 1t, day or
night rain or shine; and his manner
of doing it was as sturdy as il was un-
ostentations. The only things he ap-
peared to shrink from were new
clothes and gatherings OF people they
seemed to bring up unpleasant mem
ories to his clouded mind.
So now he moved listlessly along
the brook, kicking discontentedly at
pebble or broken stick from time to
time. Gradually he increased the
distance between him and the house,
until, at length, he had approached
very near the forest. Then sudden
ly he paused and gazed straight ahead
his eyes losing their vacancy aud be-
coming round and fierce.
But whatever he saw, the effect Of
it seemed to pass away almost instant
ly, for he turned and began 10 retracs
his way along the brook, walking slow
ly and stopping even more frequently
than before. AS he neared the orch
ard be even sat down upon a fallen
tree and idly swung his legs. At
length he arose and sauntered into
the orchard.
Scarcely had the intervening fOli-
age shut in between him and the for
est, however, when his whole manner
changed. Dropping his head and
pressing bis elbows close to his sides,
he sped like deer through the orch
ard and on past the barn TO the house.
And yet all he had seen had been
footprint in the moist soil but the
toes were turned toward the forest
and water was still oOzing into the