The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1906-10-12
"Six mile. =" he responded.

was going-seven thirty-six.
"May l sleep in your house tonight p
| asked.
"You can come in if you want to-" he
said, "and sleep if you can. House all
messy; mas been dead three year, and
dads away. Nolhin' to eat but buck
wheat -four and rusty bacon
"Tve plenty to eat, answered, pick
ing up hamper. ''Just take that hamp-
er, will your
"You can come in if you re mind
TO-, he said, but you got to carry your
own stuff He did not speak grutfly or
rudely, but appeared mildly stating an
inoffensive fact.
"All right" 1 said; "lead the way"
The yard in front of the house was
dark under dozen or more immense all
antus trees. Below them many smaller
trees had grown up, and beneath these
dark underwood of tall, rank suckers out
of the deep, shaggy, matted grass What
had once been, apparently, carriage
drive left narrow, curved track, disused
and grass grown, leading to the house.
Even here were some shoots of the ailantus,
and the air was unpleasant with the vile
smell of the roots and suckers and the in
sistent odor of their flowers
The house was of gray stone, with green
shutters faded almost as gray as the stone.
| Along its front was a veranda, not much
raised from the ground, and with no balus
trade or railing. On it were several hick-
ory splint rockers. There were eight
shuttered windows toward the porch, and
midway of them wide door, with small
violet panes on either side of it and fan
light above.
"Open the door," said to the boy.
"Open it yourself he replied, not un-
pleasantly nor disagreeably, but in such
tone that one could not but take the sug-
gestion as a matter OF course.
| put down the two hampers and tried
the door. 1t was latched, but not locked,
and opened with rusty grind of its hinges,
on which it sagged crazly, scraping the
floor as it turned The passage smelt
moldy and damp There were several
doors on either side; the boy pointed to the
first on the right.
"You can have that room" he said
l opened the door. What with the
dusk, the interlacing trees outside, the
piazza roof, and the closed shutters, [
could make out little.
"Better get lamp" l said to the boy.
''Nary lamp" he declared cheerfully.
"Nary candle. Mostly get abed before
dark
| returned to the remains of my con-
veyance All four of my lamps were
merely scrap metal and splintered glass.
My lantern was mashed fiat. [ always,
however, carried candles in my valise.
This l found split aud crushed, but still
holding together. | carried it to the
porch, opened it, and took out three can
dies.
Entering the room, where | found the
boy standing just where had left him, |
lit the candle The walls were white
washed, the floor bare. There was mil
dewed, chilly smell, but the bed looked
freshly made up and clean, although it
felt clammy.
With few drops of its own grease l
stuck the candle on the corner of a mean,
rickety little bureau. There was nothing
else in the room save two rushbottomed
chairs and a small table. | went out on
the porch, brought in my valise, and put
it on the bed. | raised the sash of each
window and pushed open the shutters, then
| asked the boy, who had not moved or
spoken, to show me the way to the kitchen.
He led me straight through the hall to the
back of the house. The kitchen was
large, and had no furniture save some pine
chairs, pine bench, and pine table.
I stuck two candles on opposite corners
of the table. There was no stove or range
in the kitchen, only a big hearth, the
ashes in which smet and looked month
old. The wood in the wood shed was dry
enough, but even it had cellary, stale
smell. The ak and hatchet were both
rusty and dull, but usable, and quickly
made big fire. To my amazement, for
the mid-Jun evening was hot and still,
the boy, wry smile on his ugly face, al
most leaned over the fame, hands and
arms spread out, and fairly roasted him
self.
care you cold?' inquired.
'I'm allus cold." he replied, hugging
the fire closer that ever, till thought he
must scorch
left him toasting himself while went
in search of water. | discovered the
pump, which was in working order and not
dry on the valves; but 1 had furious
struggle to fill the two leaky pals l had
found. When l had put water to boil l
fetched my hampers from the porch.
I brushed the table and set out my
meal-cold fowl, cold ham, white and
brown bread, olives, jam, and cake. When
the can of soup was hot and the coffee
made l drew up two chairs to the table
and invited the boy to join me.
~ ain't hungry" he said; "rve had
supper"
He was a new sort of boy to me; all the
boys knew were hearty eaters and always
ready. l had felt hungry myself, but
somehow when came to eat little appe-
tite and hardly relished the food. | soon
made an end of my meal, covered the fire,
blew out the candles, and returned to the
porch, where dropped into one of the
hickory rockers to smoke. The boy fol-
lowed me silently and seated himself on the
porch floor. leaning against pillar, his
feet on the grass outside.
''What do you do asked, "when
your father is away2
"Just loaf round" he said. "Just
fool round"
''How far off are your nearest neigh
bors ?'' I asked.
Don't no neighbors never come here,
he stated. "Say they're afeared of the
ghosts
| was not at all startled, the place had
all those aspects which lead to house be-
ing called haunted. l was struck by his
odd matter of fact way of speaking it was
as if he had said they were afraid of a cross
dog.
"Do you ever see any ghosts around
here? [ continued