Courier Democrat. (Langdon, N.D.) 1891-1920, 1908-09-03

~ YER ridge and swamp and
along the reaches Of the Bar
~ raclaw the buds were swelling
on the topmost branches of
oak and cypress, and the lush grasses
that stand up straight and tall in the
dark red pools later on in the year be-
gan to send their first green shoots to
herald the spring. There was a trou-
blesome rumor going the rounds, omi-
nous and dread. Men said that the
new levee was treacherous, that 1t
might hold, but all knew that q mighty
river was sweeping down from the
north, jealous Of its ancient preroga-
tives over the valley. Would the mar
row line Of earth hold out against it?
Jake Alders heard the news when he
was doing his trading down at Wash
Evans store. On the way home he
fell in with little groups of men who
logged along discussing the probability
Of an overflow, not that 1t was a new
thing on the Barraclaw, for many
times and often had the Father of
Waters swept his royal way across the
land, but their little holdings had been
heavily taxed to build the levee that
was to protect them, and now, thanks
to the gods Of red tape, Father Mes
sasable had challenged it and the levee
was not.
Jake rode along slowly. He was
turning a problem over in his mind.
Amanda, his wife, had been one of the
annual victims to the dread swamp
fever, dying in the early winter. She
had made him promise to have her fu-
neral preached in the spring when the
woods is a-gittn' green an things is q
little mite more cheerful" Jake had
just made arrangements for the fu-
neral and that day had received a
message from the parson to the effect
that he would be on hand the follow
ing Sunday, and now, If the water
came, there was no telling when the
funeral could be preached.
Jake swung along the yellow ribbon
Of road. around the big bend and
across the long bridge owe the bayou
thinking deeply. The first bluebird of
the year futtered ahead of him into q
nearby cotton field. Over his head a
robin wheeled, chatterlng to his mate.
Against the dark gray green Of the
winter woods the red bud blazed it's
crimson banners and the nipping wind
ruffled the brown breast of the river to
scales Of golden armor. He gathered
himself together, gave the mule a
sharp cut and began to whistle-he
had made up his mind.
Miss Josie Derr whisked the broom
sharply over the steps, shook out her
starched purple calico skirt and settled
herself on the gallery to enjoy the
morning sunshine. There was some
little appearance of thrift around the
comfortable little log cabin Of two
rooms and the lean-to kitchen at the
back, it's we'll fenced yard and clap
boarded outbuildings. Miss Josie her
self, spare, gray haired and active as a
we'll intentioned hornet, was known
throughout the B%arraclaw as a "hus-
tin woman. If she is an old maid
Her sixty acres Of land were we'll man
aged, and, though contrary to custom,
she never worked in the cotton her
self, at the end of the year she was
usually ahead Of those who did.
AS Jake Alders came in sight, a limp
and detected figure astrlde Of the pa.
tient mule, she stood up and peered
under her hand. why don't the fool
s%traighten up and use the back his God
give him? He'd be right decent lookin'
If it want for his slouchy ways" And
Miss Josie pulled her own shoulders a
trihe straighter as she walked slowly
down the path.
"Howdy, Jake? How's the children
and what's the news from the water?'
The mule came to a halt. well
now, Miss Josie, l was jes' a-sayin' tc
myself as how l vas a-goin' to ask
your advice this very mornin' along OF
the children. You heard tell how Man
dy was q wantin' her funer'l preached
in the spring? Sorter foolish. Lord
Wimmen folks has their notions, an
I'm q man what believes in humorin
'em, dead or alive. Parson Arms, he
lowed he'd get here a-Sunday, an we
was a-layin' off to have the funer'
preached down at the bayou; but, Miss
Josie, them kids amt got one rag
what's decent to wear to their mas
funer'l, an what I'm a-goin' to DE-
'twixt now an then God knows!'
Jake paused and looked hopefully a
Miss Josie; then he went on, "Seein
as you be such q fine manager, l wa:
a-thinkin' you might kinder help m,
out, and IT,
"Now, see here, Jake Alders! D,
you think I'm a woman or a Christ
mas tree? How do you reckon I cal
make clothes grow on them six kid!
'twixt now IN Sunday, an this heah'
Tuesday? Man, you've plum lost you
senses"
Jake fdgeted with his rope birdie
II didn't know but what you was"-
"Shut up, Jake Alders. You know
you've been plannin' all along the roat
as how you was a-goin to dump then
kids an their ixin's on my conscience
an nov you've been an gone an don