The comet. (Johnson City, Tenn.) 1884-1916, 1907-10-17
BY ALICE ANDERSON
CCopyright, BY Joseph b. Bowles.l


clothes she wore. which, to put 1t mod
erately. were not burdensome. Pro-
Visions they picked up on the way
Or went without, as was most con-
venient. E4
This is freedom; to be able TO
sling all ones personal property on
stick. over ones shoulder, and to walk
of on ones own two feet; to be
subject to no cenVentionalities requir-
ing ones shoes to be mates, and ones
hat to possess brim; to know not
the necessity of meals at stated hours,
and of roof to cover ones head at
night All! the tramp instinct trans
nitted from our nomadic forefathers
still breaks out now and then to show
that civilization has not yet spoiled the
race for freedom.
"Where'll we get somethin' to ate
next, daddy" asked Maggie.
We'll pick up bite some'er' along
Don't ye be afther thrubblin' yerself,
me darAnt," replied Mrke.
Faith, hope and love!
81 wisht had dhrink," said Mag
gle.
A thicket of young spruce grew be-
side the railroad, and the ground had
a moist look.
There's wather in there, I bet
ye. I'll go see," said Mike.
Now 1t CHANGED that forgotten
country road meandering dreamily
through the quiet woods, dropped un-
expectedly upon the hot path of the
rushing railway demon, leaped clear
across 1t, and SHE'D around the bend
OF the spruce thicket, where 1t ran
plump up to the doorstep OF an old
house. Mikes search for water
brought him through the thicket, and
into a tangle OF briers, growing up
through the ruins of what had once
been a cider mill The stone walls OF
the flume were still standing, with
ferns clinging into their crevices, and
q bit of brook trickled down over a
messy ledge, worn smooth by the flow
of the river which once had been
there.
Mike assured himself at glance
that the house was uninhabited.
Come on, Biddy; come on, Maggie.
There's wather. And there's blackber-
ries" he cried, and said no more, be-
ing too full for utterance.
Biddy and Maggie plunged through
the thicket and settled upon the black
berry hedge. There was silence for
q space, the silence Of absorption.
Then Maggie's growing sense of the
felicity of the situation expressed It,
self with sigh, drawn from the very
depths of her being, and a smile which
was unimpaired by the blackberry
stains about her lips.
Let us stay here tonight. Then
Mobodyll put us in tramp house" "
Ghe said.
"Roight ye are, me baby" replied
i Biddy. The door of the house hung
4 ajar on one hinge. Maggie peeped in
curiously. A bird fiuttered suddenly
from a nest over the window casing,
and flew out at broken pane There
were young ones in the nest.
"oh. myl" squealed Maggie.
"Shure, it's foine house" exclaim-
ed Biddy taking in the scene with
charmed eyes.
"Oh, nanny, don't we wish we
lived here?" said Maggie.
'Mebbe we'd best rint the place, an
take in dodgers" said Biddy, good-na
turedly.
"Will We PLACE to look over the
house an see IL We thinks it'll suit ye
ladies?" said Mike, opening one Of
the inside doors with flourish.
Through all the musty, dusty old
ruins they looked, up into the cobweb
by attic, into the queer little closets
around the big chimneys, and down
into the cellars, smelling of darkness
and mold and rotting timbers. Every
where they found treasures-two OF
three rickety, sDlint-bottomed chairs
Q table on three legs; half dozen ole
spinning-wheels and reels, clustering
together in an oak-paneled room, al
II rehearsing tales of days gone by;
q heavy wooden cradle, worn ON the
tops OF the rockers, where the moth
ef's foot had pressed; broken aceor
dion with a cracked and squeaky
voice; and hidden away in dark cor
ner under the caves, dusty moth-eat
en- rag doll. which Maggie seized witt
rapturous scream.
"Oh, nanny, niver had doll IL
al me loife," she cried.
"Bless the choild!" exclaimed Biddy
grinning broadly.
Mike brought the table and chairs
down into the bright west room.
"Will we set the table for tay, Mrs
Flanagan, whilst Just step out t
the market over beyant?" he said.
Where BIZ yez afther goin'? Ye',
betther kape an eye out ahead" warn
cd Biddy.
"Niver ye fret. Mike Flanagan
not the by to be caught nappin'.
hit me eye on carnfer bit back
, Pm thinkin' some roast earn 'H'd tast
raie good, Ell, Maggie? Do you re