Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1908-08-22

ed lands surrounded Immediately
by dark evergreens and the oc-
casional primeval oaks spared IN Inc
original telling of the forest. VIDE
and rambling galleries Of one height or
another crawled partially about the ex-
panses of the building. and again paused.
as though weary of the attempt TO cir
cumvent il. The strong white pillars. ris-
ing from the ground floor straight to the
third story, shone white and stately, after
the old southern fashion, th.t Grecfan
siyle. simplified and made suitable to pro-
yincial purses by those Adams brothers
of old England who first set the FASHION
in early American architecture. White
coated with wide cool green blinds. with
ample and wide-doored halls. and deep,
low windows. the Big House, here in the
heart of the warm southland, was ABOVE
all things suited to it's environment. 1t
was all safe and sure that there was
10 need for anxiety Life here was as
ii had been for generations, even for the
generation following the upheaval of the
civil war
But IL this were a kingdom apart and
self-sufficient. what meant this thing
which crossed the head of the plantation
this double line tenacious and cOntinu-
Gus, which shone upon the one hand
dark. and upon the other, where the sun
touched ii, cold gray in color? What
meant this squat little building at the side
of these rails which reached on out
clearing and vanished keenly in the for
est wall? This was the road of the iron
rails 1t chung close to the ground. at
times almost sinking in to the embank-
ment, now grown scarcely discerntbe
among. the concealing grass and weeds,
although the track itself had been built
but recently. This railroad sought to
efface itself. even as the land sought to
aid in it's effacement, as though neither
believed that this was lawful spot for it.
One might say it made blot upon this
picture of the morning.
Perhaps it seemed thus to the tall young
girl who now stood upon its long GAL
lery, her tangle Of high-rolled, red-brown
hair held back by the hand which half
shaded her eyes as she looked out dis
contentedly over the familiar scene. Miss
Lady-for thus she was christened by
the Big House servants; and she bore
we'll the title-frowned now as she tapped
a little foot upon the gallery floor. Per-
haps it was not much what she saw
as what she did not see that made Miss
Lady disconnected. for this white rim OF
the forest bounded the world for her; yet
after all, youth and the morning do not
conspire with discomfort A moment
more. light, fleet of foot, Miss Lady fled
down the gallery steps: through ne gate
and out along the garden walk. Beyond
the yard fence she was greeted r1otously
by a score of dogs and puppies. long since
her friends and devoted admirers: as. in
deed, were all jewellers, dumb or human,
thereabout.
Had Miss Lady, or any observer, looked
from the gallery off to the southwark and
down the railway track, there might thus
have been discovered two hgures just
emerging from the rim Of the forest
something like a mile away; and these
might have been seen growing slowly
more distinct, they plodded up the
railway track toward the. Big House.
Presently they might have been discover
ed to be a man and woman; the for
mer tall thin, dark and stopped; his
companion tall himself, quite as thin
and almost as bent. The garb OF the man
was nondescript, neutral, loose; MS nat
dark and Tapping. The wor IN wore a
shapeless calico gown, and on her head
was long, telescope sunbonnet Of faded
pink. from which she must perforce peer
forward. looking neither to the right nor
TO the left.
The travellers. indeed. needed not to
look to the right or the left. Tor the path
of the iron rails led them directly on.
They did not step to the gallery. did not
knock at the door. or. indeed, give any
evidences of their intentions. but seated
themselves deliberately upon pile of
boards that lay near in the broad ex-
panse of the front yard. Here they re-
manned, silent and at rest. fitting we'll
enough into the sleepy scene. No one in
the house noticed them for time. and
they. tired by the walk. seemed willing
To- rest under the shade OF the evergreens
before making known their errand. They
sat speechess and content for several
moments, until finally mulatto house
servant passing from one building to an
other, cast look in their direction. and
paused uncertainty in curiosity. The man
on the board pile saw her.
Here. jimmy! jimmy. he called. just
n odd md v,Nt Hyr~r 1fv,rP
toward her more than half way. Come
here"
'.Yessah," said the girl. and slowly ap-
preached
Get us a little melk jimmy" said the
speaker. Were plumb out o melk down
home
.'Yessah." said jimmy, and disappeared
leisurely, to be gone perhaps half an
hour.
There remained little sign OF life on
the board pile, the bonnet tube pointing
fixedly toward the railway station the
man now and then slowly shifting one
leg across the other. but staring out at
nothing his lower lip dropping laxay.
When the servant finally brought back
the milk pail and placed 1t beside him.
he gave no word OF thanks. To all ap-
pearance, he was willing to wait here in
definitely, forgetful of the pail of milk,
toward which the sun was creeping omi-
nously close. The way back home seemed
long and weary at that moment. His
lip dropped still more laxly. as he sat
looking out vaguely.
Not so calm seemed his consort. she OF
The sunbonnet Restored to some extent
bv her tarrying in the shade, she began
70 shift and hitch about uneasl.y upon
the board pile. At length e leaned
hi, TO one side, reached into pocket and
taking out a snuff stick and parcel
Of its attendant compound. began to take
a dip of snuff. after the habit OF GER
tain of the population of that region.
This done. she turned with a swift jerk
of the head. bringing to bear the tube Of
her bonnet in full force upon her lord
I'm RoVIes" she said, this here 10 q
shame, Hits q plumb shame!'
There was no answer. save an uneasy
h;tch ON the part of the person SO ad-
drassed He seemed to feel the focus Of
,be sunhonnet boring into his system. The
voice in the bonnet went on. shot straight
toward him. so that he might not escape.
Its plumb shame" said MRS.
BowIes again.
II know it. I know It," said her hus-
band at length. uneasily But, now,
Sar' Ann. how kin / help II? The cows
daid and / KANT help 1t. and that's all
about It, My God, woman.-this with
sudden energy-"do you think kin bring
a cow to life that's been killed by the
old railroad kyahs? I amt no VANCE
list. IL amt my fault old Muley got