Orange County observer. [volume] (Hillsborough, N.C.) 1880-1918, 1906-02-01

I'm going to give him up for the
church. He's been company and every
thing to me for years, and I'm giving
him to the Lord, and-and," she added
with culver of her old voice, don't
you think He will look out for him
and get him a good homer"
Il trust so, sister,
I'm going now. Don't you put him
In your barn till I'm out of sight,
She fluttered out of the side door.
thin little figure with her head bow
ed low and her eyes shining with the
light of remuneration.
The minister undid the halter and
led the old horse to his shabby barn.
wondering what he should do if his
sermon on personal sacrifice brought
forth many such answers.
Wasn't that Sister Scudder's horse
you were taking round?' asked his
wife as he came in.
Don't you know that old airship,
mother?" laughed q boy at the table.
---ss -sssEt-hStu.ser-+o--efzv-- ueUC, an
swered her husband, YEARLY; "she
left it to be sold for that purpose
sold! Is the woman crazy? You
couldn't get ten dollars for the whole
thing, provided you could find buyer.
Why in the world, Horace Trueblood,
didn't you come right out and tell her
so. I'm sure you have no hay to waste
feeding it,"
"My DEAR" said the preacher, with
sigh, thinking of the old woman's
drawn, white face, there are places
where angels fear to tread"
A week went by and Cynthy Scudder
seemed to grow older each day. The
kitchen curtains were never raised on
the side toward the barn, the eggs
were ungathered and the chickens
scratched in the hay unmolested.
She did not work much, though she
got out the braided rug she was MAX
ing, and sat with it in her lap.
Every evening at dusk she crecct
down to the village. She made excuses
to herself; now it was an errand at
the store, or visit, or a call at the
rostofice. She always came home af-
ter dark, through the little lane back
or the parsonage barn, and breathing
softly, like thief in the night, she
Laid her ear to the wide crack and lis
tened. Then murmuring, Eyes, he's
there; there's two horses" she would
turn and hurry UP the long way home
where every step was frought with ter
:rors for her timid soul.
A nasty spell of weather came on
the nightly pilgrimages became more
:d1mcult, and one morning she found
herself in the painful grasp Of rheu-
imatism.
Ann Pratt, an energetic spinster, was
sent for, and the old lady lay all day
IN her bed, her face turned toward the
wall. and her thin nps moving with
volceless prayer that had never left
them since Roger went away: "Oh
Lord. take care Of him, give him a
good home.'
One afternoon Ann brought her knit
ting and sat down to "chirp up Gym
thy"
Il saw the funniest sight the other
day., she chartered. Il like to have
7 died alaughing. I'd been down to the
store with my eggs, and coming along
by Slmpson's-you know that deep
mud hole that's sticky as all get out
! well, the preachers children and some
other 'un was driving with your ole
| rig, setting up the horse at a great
rate, and It the critter didn't fall
plump down, and them young 'uns sho1
into that soft mud like out Of a gun
| A nastier lot you never saw"
| Cynthy sat suddenly up in the bed
| but the horse, the horse" she painted
was he hurt?'
/ I'm sure / don't know; he limpet
some when they got him up; the bugg,
shaft was broken. What's that noise
/ wonder If the cats in the kitchen"
She hurried out, and when she cam
back Cynthy was dressing herself.
II You'd better not get up; it's
mighty cold day."
Ii Get my bonnet and shawl
- ''You amt going outside! You'll